#I would quite love that actually and then my spirit would wander around the ocean

[truetogaia]

Hi just wondering if you would be open to writing a headcanon with some of the male avatar characters where their female mate is insecure about her chest?

featuring: Tsu’tey, Jake, Quaritch, Tonowari.

genre: headcanons

warnings: mentions of body dysmorphia, insecurities, like strong language??, quaritch is a dick because he doesn't understand but he eventually realizes!!

notes: HI OF COURSE I WILL!!! Also, If this is a request based on you, I'm so sorry you have to feel that way. You are a creation of earth herself, one of many beautiful beings wandering this planet of life. I know it might not be of much help, but you are quite literally stardust, created in a supernova explosion billions of years ago. Your skin was formed out of the cosmos, your soul is a domain of the universe and your body is the divine fortress of the galaxies and the heavenly bodies littering the sky, molded specifically for your spirit. Humanity has completely turned away from their mother and have created the concept of unbelievable beauty standards, which, by the way, do not even align with the laws of nature?? Don’t listen to social media. Think of yourself as a star, a celestial being, because that's what we all are, that is what you are. 

okay, now for the actual request!! SORRY

JAKE

Jake is absolutely obsessed with every single part of you. And sure, he is a very sexual man, always goofing around intimately, but regarding matters like these, he can be extremely serious. He loves every inch of blue skin covering your body, and adores every curve that gives shape to it. There is not one thing that he would change about you, he wouldn't dream to design you any differently if he got the chance to. So when you finally opened up about your insecurities regarding your chest, he was baffled. Never in a million years did he think you could carry these insecurities about something so indescribably perfect. 

He spent every following day trying his utmost best to make you forget those absurdities, drowning you in reassuring and loving words, making sure you knew exactly how jaw dropping you truly are. 

“y/n, listen to me.” Your gaze shifted uncomfortably around the room, not daring to meet your mates eyes. “Hey,” he gently grabbed your hands, placing them against his chest, “this heart,” you felt it thump wildly beneath your palms, “its purpose is to love you, and It serves its purpose every day, without fail. You are undoubtedly the most beautiful being this world has created, there is not a single error on your beautiful body.” 

You had him wrapped around your finger, he would do whatever was needed for you to feel as loved and beautiful as you are, and he was gonna make damn sure you knew of it.

TONOWARI

Wari could not believe his pointy ears. His main priority had always been to make sure you were completely aware of the immense love he held for you in his heart. The words that left your mouth were nonsense, and his brain was trying to puzzle it together. There was absolutely no reason for such an astonishing, ravaging person as yourself to feel that way. His heart ached as your eyes darted to the floor at his expression. His eyes told of the utter confusion he experienced, and you felt stupid. 

“I’m sorry, I know It’s stupid and all but.. I can’t help but feel this way sometimes.” You finally managed to meet his gaze, and when you locked eyes, his features immediately softened. 

“My beautiful girl, you are as ravaging as the ocean, and as heavenly as the cosmos. Your mere presence is enough to send a million men to their knees, enough to make me never want to forget a single thing regarding you. Even after death, I want every trivial, petty detail to stay with me until the end of time itself.”

Your smile makes his heart tingle slightly, a warm sensation spreading in your face. He gently cupped your jaw, lifting your face to look up at him. “Oel ngati kameie, y/n.” Your foreheads pressed together as you closed your eyes, reveling in the gentle affirmations before repeating his words back to him.

QUARITCH

Quaritch is a man who doesn’t enjoy being emotional. He isn’t emotionally available at all, physically and mentally recoiling at the mention or thought of being openly affectionate on an emotional level with someone. But when you came into his life, something switched in him. He tried his best to be at least.. somewhat open and supportive. He tries his best, I promise. 

But, when you opened up to him about your insecurities, his brain malfunctioned. He couldn't connect the dots you so desperately gave to him. The two of you were in bed when you told him, your head was propped up on his bicep as he laid on his back. His tail nervously flicked around, he was trying to come up with a solution, like the strategist that he is, but he turned up empty handed.

“Sorry, sweetie, but what the hell are you talking about?” He turned his face to you, eyes slightly narrowed as he tried to make sense of your words. You twisted and squirmed uncomfortably.

“I don’t know.. S’ just that sometimes I feel like.. You know.. It's not as beautiful as you think it is.” He almost laughed at that, snorting as he tried suppressing the itching laughter. When his little fit of chuckles ended, he looked down at you again. You were frowning, lip slightly quivering as your face was turned away. He realized his mistakes, a slight panic settling over him as he shifted his body towards you and softly placed his hand on the side of your face, turning you to him again.

“I’m so sorry, bunny. I didn’t mean to make you upset, you know that.” You looked up at him, sensing a genuine apologetic aura from him. “You’re my finest, most amazing prize, pumpkin. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with you.” A smile spread on your face as your dear mate tried his best to comfort you. You knew he didn’t have a way with words, but him trying meant so much.

TSU’TEY

Tsu’tey is such a sweetheart when it comes to his mate. He showers them in praises and compliments, love and adoration. His heart swells with pride each time the two of you go out, reveling in the jealous looks from the other males. He knew something was off the minute you started doubting yourself. He didn’t even give you a moment to think about it.

“Yawne, is something wrong?” The two of you were sat in your shared home, nuzzled together in front of the head of the fire. You shook your head, locking your gaze on the flames eagerly licking the wood. 

“I know when you're lying.” He was right. He always knew, right from the start. Even before the lies had formed on your tongue. “I’ve noticed the way you look at yourself in your reflection.” Your head shot up at that, turning to him. “Whatever it is, stop. Yawne, you are so mesmerizing, truly. There is no better mate, I mean it.” 

You placed your head on his hard shoulder, sighing while fiddling with your hands. Tsu’tey grabbed them with his unoccupied hand, and brought them to his lap. “Tell me, ma tsawksyul, what is eating you?” 

A tiny tear almost went unnoticed by you, until tsu’tey calmly wiped it away with his thumb. You finally opened up, spilling your heart out to him. His heart twinged with the knowledge that you had felt this way all this time, and he hadn’t known. 

“My sweet girl, you are the omaticaya’s most beautiful woman. I did not mate with you just because of your amazing personality, the clan's most fierce warrior has his standard high, you know.” A giggle left your lips and it soon turned into a fit of laughter. He smiled, heart warming with each wheeze that left your lungs.

[drunk-poets-society]

If I was an immortal I would simply walk into the ocean, and then come back after a few decades or centuries having explored all of it, and befriending all the creatures of The Deep

[ackasamii--archive]

just as he wanted

summary: with love comes sacrifice

pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: angst

note: so this is a repost of my one shot from other blog i impulsively deleted so i hope you enjoy this!!

When was the last time she laughed? A full wholehearted laugh from the core.

Ah, it was in her small New York apartment located in the quiet part of Brooklyn. It was rare to catch a quiet moment in New York, but home was the place Y/n always went. And this time, she brought a friend who was in dire need of it. Someone who carried the world on his shoulders quite often, someone who needed a day or two to relax for once.

With a grin on her face, Y/n handed the last of the dumplings to Steve, who sat comfortably on her worn couch that she had brought at least two or three years ago. The couch had seen better days, the green color was faded, some tears here and there, but she couldn’t find herself to complain. After all, it had many nights of long and thoughtful conversations from five years ago, and she couldn’t bring herself to give that up. If her memory were to vanish at an older age, what else could remind her of the time spent with Captain Steve Rogers?

Steve stared at the two dumplings left and shook his head, “Take them, I’ve had enough of those for one night.” He smiled and let a short chuckle escape his lips, but lately, she’s started to notice how his smile never reached his eyes. Which is why she persisted he have the last of the two dumplings. He looked Y/n in the eyes and assured, “Really, I’m fine.”

Y/n sighed at his stubbornness but let it go as she set the box down on the coffee table and settled down next to him, leaving just enough space between them. She couldn’t help but stare at the man before her with an adoring smile while he was lost in his own wandering thoughts. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

He blinked and turned to stare back at her, “What are you thinking about?”

“I asked first.”

Her heart fluttered once another smile broke out onto his lips. Steve leaned forward, clasping his hands together and sighed. “Honestly…” Y/n scooted closer to hear him better, their shoulders nearly touching. “What my life would’ve been like if I hadn’t been on that plane.”

With a thoughtful look, Y/n shrugged, “A lot different, man. I mean if you weren’t on the plane, I wouldn’t know that one story Bucky told me about you and a trash can lid.”

Steve laughed lightly, his muscles flexing slightly with every movement he made, and then his blue eyes met hers.

“Peggy and I, we…” Steve stopped short, looking down at his hands and hadn’t noticed the frown now on her lips. Or the fact that her heart sank at the mention of his old flame. He looked back at Y/n, who quickly made her frown disappear as he asked, “Have I ever told you about the time we met?”

She shook her head but remained silent, letting him continue. Something ugly within her tickled her heart as he passionately talked about that woman. That woman she would possibly never be able to compete with. Eventually, she had to come to this conclusion one way or another without avoiding it. As the spark in his eyes grew brighter and brighter, she knew that his heart still sat in the palms of that woman’s hands.

It hurt her to no end. It hurt her that she wasn’t good enough for him, it hurt her that he may never see her the same way he saw Peggy Carter. Perhaps she was nothing like her, but at times, she wished she could be. But could she blame the woman? No. It was Y/n that just couldn’t compete or even be compared to such a brilliant and strong woman.

Steve told her time when he first got his shield. And how Peggy shot at him. The scenario was so entertaining, that Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along with him. Laughing at that point in time would’ve been so foreign, but not between the two. It was almost natural, as if they were old friends. Which was exactly what Y/n knew he saw her as.

Now, Y/n had no idea why this memory came to mind. Maybe she needed one semi-happy moment to lift her fallen spirits while cladded in black. It was the black clothes. She wanted to change out of them quickly and that’s what she was about to do right after Tony’s funeral. After paying her respects, Y/n was ready to return back to her small apartment alone and possibly take in everything that has happened.

But no.

She stood stiff in front of the time machine transporter or whatever the hell Banner called it, with Steve on her right. Somehow, she didn’t know how, Y/n had gotten wind that Steve was going to travel back and return all the stones. Alone. Normally, she would protest to such a horrid plan only because she was worried about his safety. But this time, she was in too much shock to even utter one word. She wandered how Bucky or even Sam was okay with this. Or why she wasn’t told about this. Maybe because of this very reason, Y/n would try and stop him, and then it would be her fault that time would be screwed up.

So, that’s why she stood silent and stiff to the side while Steve was giving Bucky a hug as if he won’t be coming back. Y/n hoped Steve wouldn’t be that stupid to try something. Finally, he had turned to her, Y/n tried relaxing her shoulders and sending him an encouraging smile, but he could see right through her façade and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“It’ll be fine, stop worrying.”

She shrugged with a defeated look on her face, “Can’t help it.” Impulsiveness was strong today. Y/n pulled him into a hug and buried her face into his shoulder. Her hold was tight as if he was disappear in mere seconds. After a few seconds, she finally let him go and mumbled a, “sorry.”

He only chuckled as he walked towards the platform. What if he doesn’t come back, those thoughts kept nagging at the back of her mind and her mouth suddenly became dry as she wondered if this was her chance just to say it. It three words she’s been ready to say ever since he first came over to her apartment. If she tells him before he leaves, maybe he’ll come back, maybe there would be something more than just friends..

Her moment would pass if she didn’t say anything now. She doesn’t hear Banner count down as she nears the platform, blurting, “Steve—”

But she was a second too late.

His figure was nowhere to be seen and Y/n fiddled with her fingers anxiously. ‘No, I will tell him,’ she assures herself, ‘when he comes back I will tell him.’

Y/n closed her eyes and quietly counted down to five along with Banner. Her heart pounded against her chest excitedly as she got to three. Her fingers became shaky and clammy as she reached four.

She opened her eyes at five.

Only, he wasn’t there.

It was like there was no breath in her lungs and her heart had fallen out of her mouth. With wide eyes, she whipped around to face Banner who was frantically looking at the tech set up before him.

“What happened? Where is he?” Her questions came out rushed and frantic while she looked from the platform and to Banner. After receiving no answers from the green giant, her voice became strain as she shouts, “Bruce, where is he?!”

“I don’t know!” Banner said with his eyes still focused on the contraption.

She was too late. The realization dawned on her as she stared at where Steve once stood. What if he was stuck somewhere, please don’t be stuck somewhere. Y/n’s heart was beating so fast, she was pretty sure it could run a marathon right now. Where the hell was he?

In the corner of her eye, her state of panic shifted as she spotted Sam walking away from the scene and Bucky standing further away. She watched the two, wandering why they weren’t showing the appropriate reaction to this situation. But Y/n kept watching, Sam walked past Bucky and towards an occupied bench. She doesn’t remember seeing that bench, overlooking the lake. Was that always there or did she never pay any mind to it before now?

Y/n trudged to Bucky’s side, she studied his face and the scene ahead of her. Sam was speaking to the figure on the bench, the tension soon shifted, and it finally dawned on her. Her mouth hung open as she watched the two. How…? Time travel was quite the complicated topic for her and in this moment she couldn’t understand what the hell had happened.

“Is that…?” She wanted to be sure, but the answer was already settled deep within her.

Bucky only nodded in response, not once his eyes had wavered from the two. From the back, she could definitely feel that it wasn’t the same Steve. Which meant…

He went back for her.

She should’ve realized it sooner and stopped him. But she was too late. Y/n was too late because she was a coward to say anything then and all the other times where she had the opportunity. This was what she got for being so fearful of rejection. Her eyes welled but she willed herself not to cry, she couldn’t and won’t cry. It was her fault for missing her opportunity.

A few minutes pass as Sam comes back with the shield in his hand. But Y/n’s remained on the figure on the bench. Seconds pass and Bucky isn’t by her side anymore, only her, slowly moving towards the bench in curiosity and caution.  Maybe she should’ve prepared herself for what she would find, or maybe she shouldn’t have approached him. No matter, she was already next to the bench looking at an older version of Steve Rogers.

There were always jokes about Steve acting like such an old man. But now, he was right there. Sitting on the wooden bench with a relaxed smile on his face, his blue eyes facing the ocean. After hesitating back and forth with herself, Y/n sat down at the end of the bench to stare at the view with him, only she caught sight of a silver object around one of his fingers. The same ugly thing bubbled within her as she glared at the ring until his hands shifted and she finally looked at him.

Actually looked at him.

Steve was smiling. No, it wasn’t forced. It wasn’t a simple smile. This was his happiness. She could see it in his eyes as they lit up. In all her life, she had never seen someone so at peace and happy. So blissfully happy.

The brutal truth hit her in the face right then and there. She had been selfish. Y/n had wanted Steve to stay and be with her so they could both live a happy life. But that was not what he wanted. He was taken from his time and forced into this new one without having the normal life that he desired and deserved. She wanted him to stay somewhere he wasn’t meant to be. Now she understood the saying, the truth hurts. Maybe she knew the truth already and just denied it.

Y/n knew there was no way of stopping him. Why would she stop him from gaining his happiness? What kind of person would that make her?

“You kids didn’t get into too much trouble, did you?” She teased lightly, trying to smile.

There, his chuckle was throaty but warm. “You’ll never know.”

An amused smile curved onto her lips.

Then she was back. Back on that couch, during that night, next to Steve who had trailed off in his story telling and deep into his sinking thoughts. She noticed how much he did that whenever they talked about either Peggy or the forties. Her envious heart blinked back tears as she looked away from him bitterly, her jaw clenching and unclenching as she glared at the box of dumplings.

Maybe she should eat them.

Only she didn’t make a move for the box, she turned to stare back at his side profile, still in adoration. She couldn’t help herself. But it hurt that he would stare at her the same way.

“Do you still love her?”

His eyes twinkled as he stared back at her. There was no answer but you knew and he knew. It was unspoken, but they knew.

A tear rolled down her cheek as she stared at the older man in content. She sighed and wiped the rogue tear away from her cheek and turned her gaze to the view before them. He doesn’t return her feelings, this was her first love, and she knew now that love meant sacrifice, thanks to Tony. Maybe the best way to love Steve Rogers…

Was to let him go.

[rosie-with-knives]

I am asking you about deretima! it sounds very interesting! what's it about? I've only seen Rae talking about it occasionally and that's about the extent of what I know.

first off, congratulations on being the first person on tumblr to actually ask me about it. I may have freaked out for a bit. It's very exciting for me

Short answer, I'm working on A Book and Deretima is the world it is set on. Rae (as well as a handful of others) know a lot about it because I bounce ideas off of them in our discord server. I create best with people to soundboard for me. Occasionally they come up with cooler things than I would have ever thought of and they're so nice to let me take those ideas and run. Shout out to @raeofsunshin for the art in particular. They make that of their own free will and choice and it quite nearly makes me cry every time.

Very very long answer under the cut.

I'm going to organize this the best I can but I do get very excited and tend to ramble a bit. Apologies in advance.

A Brief History Of Deretima

The world of Deretima was created by four gods, a family, who came to this universe and shaped it to their whims. The Father, The Mother, The Son, and The Daughter willed it into existence by sheer belief and consequently, belief is a quantifiable thing in this world that can, and has, changed reality. After The Daughter created humans, the Old Gods (as they became known) went to war. This event is later known as the Great Breaking and left The Daughter as the sole ruler of this world. I've posted a short story of this here.

Unfortunately, full godhood responsibilities are really too much for one person. Too much for 4, even. So The Daughter, now known as The Bloody One, sought to create more gods to help her out. The first one she created was The Spider (front and center in Rae's art here. They have more, too, though I'm not sure if it's been posted.) I love the Spider. She's the god of manipulation and lies and truth and death and the bonds between everything and also she holds reality together. There's a full pantheon of about 15 gods, known in different cultures by different names and with varying sets of powers and strength. The ones most believed in are the ones most powerful. Also featured in Rae's art are The Friend (top right), The Bloody One (top left), The Siren (bottom left), and the Pirate (bottom right). This art by @mrs-brightside00 features The Keeper (red) and The Dancer (blue) and links to a different short story I wrote based on a tumblr prompt. I hope to finish it someday.

A list of the gods and a short description of their domains: -The Spider (truth and lies, manipulation, death, bonds. By far the most powerful god) -The Engineer (life and creation, creativity, the patron god of the Sunborn and inheritor of the Son's powers) -The Keeper/Living Hearth/Protector (god of protection, and of hearth and home. Known mainly as The Keeper to the Mer and as The Living Hearth among land dwelling races, short story here) -The Archivist/Knowledgeable/Lost (god of teaching and learning and knowledge, also of wanderers and loss of memory, patron to many nomadic tribes and also has the most extensive church system. It makes sense with the story I promise) -The Blacksmith (god of fire and stone, patron of the Forged and inheritor of the Mother's powers. See short story here) -The Dancer (god of sailing and navigation, also music and dance, primarily known among the Forged of the island of Levk) -The Siren (god of the sea, betrayal, and romantic love, patron of the Mer and inheritor of the Father's powers) -The Pirate Queen (another god of sea and sailing and war, fairly limited powers as she is not well known but not a force to be reckoned with) -The Warmonger (god of war) -The Spirit (god of revolution, alcohol, and parties) -The Friend (god of friendship and platonic love and the bonds between people specifically) -The Doctor (god of medicine) -The Devourer (god of destruction and needless violence) -The Grower (god of farming and harvests and feasts) -The Betrayed (god of revenge, anger, and spite)

The Races on Deretima

In the Great Breaking, some groups of humans turned away from the Daughter, their creator, and sought the protection of the other Old Gods in order to survive. There are still humans on Deretima, but there are 3 other races as well.

The Forged -Most simply put, they're a weird mix of tolkien-esque dwarves and elves -This race pleaded with the stones of the mountains to save their lives and turned themselves into living statues. See the short story linked under the Blacksmith in the list of gods. -They have skin of literal stone, hair that is metal, and eyes and fingernails of real gemstones -Forged tend to live for 500 years or so. A 'baby' Forged is carved by a master craftsman in an adult body (they do not grow) and brought to life by ritual. They mature more slowly than humans, taking about twice as long to develop, which isn't much but due to their culture are not really considered adults until about age 100 -Rae's art that drew you here has a Stoneborn named Lazuli in the middle left panel

The Sunborn -Simple explanation, dryads or Ents. Literal plant people -A baby Sunborn is created when a parent (can be any race) picks a plant they love and carries it around for a year and a day, loving it and caring for it and believing in it until it becomes a child -Sunborn can be any variety of plant. Sedentary village communities tend to be composed of 1-3 varieties. The nomadic tribes are a different story -Lifespan tends to be comparative to humans but there are a few outliers due to choice of plants. Things like specific kinds of trees can live as a Sunborn up to 200 years, but come with their own drawbacks and are rarely chosen for children.

The Mer -fairly standard mermaids/mermen -Mer come in many water creature species, with not much pattern or rhyme to it. The belief is that each person is born with the form that most suits their personality. The most common ones are reef-fish and other shallow ocean varieties, though both freshwater and deep sea varieties pop up on occasion -lifespan is usually equivalent to a standard human with the exception of the deep sea Mer, which can live 200-300 years

The Book

I haven't titled my current book yet, but it follows a young man named Kesil on his journey to figure out why an angry god slaughtered his town, leaving only him behind. It's a journey of self discovery and overcoming biases and becoming a better person. It's also a story of a dude who is a bit of a dumbass becoming a champion of the god of Knowledge unwittingly. It's also a romance between said dumbass and a wonderful capable woman named Kahani who is a badass in her own right and I love her (the romantic sub plot is really just a sub plot, and may take multiple books to complete, but I love their relationship a lot). I really thought I had posted more about them on here but I can't find any of it. Here's some short answers about Kesil, Kahani, and another character named Tasma.

I'm really hoping to have finished writing this book by the end of this year, but life is nuts and I can't promise any timeline. I'm not sure if I'll be able to get it published traditionally or if I'll need to self-publish but I WILL have books about Deretima in my hands. Someday.

Thank you so much for asking!! I've probably overwhelmed you a bit and I apologize but if you're curious about anything or want to know more just hit me up!!! I love to talk about my world

[whiteheartlight]

Wrote a bit of an intro for my au where the Toa Mata are made into Toa Hagah for different Makuta. don't know if I'll go anywhere with it but figured I'd type it up. Krika-centric. enjoy

.

In the time before time...

That's how Matoran start their stories, right?

Gathered friends, listen again. In the time before time...

What? What was there? A Great Spirit? A Toa?

All their stories sound the same, in his opinion. Toa-heroes and Matoran-heroes and the Great Spirit watching, benevolent, over all of it.

Those are not how his stories go. In the time before time... he wonders when the Great Spirit stopped watching. It must have been recently, he supposes, but then again he thinks this bitterness has been festering in Teridax's heart for a long time.

The stories, after all, are not about Makuta. The stories are about Toa. Or at least the ones that Matoran tell.

Then again, who really gives a fuck?

(All of them do. That's the big secret. Krika, for all he speaks of unknowable destinies, is pretty sure that this could all have been avoided if Teridax was a little bit less glory-hungry. But ah, well. What does he know?)

“He won't really try anything,” he tells Antroz, on a day where they are out on the sea, and the ship rocks beneath their steady feet, and they know each other as brothers. “He wouldn't really challenge Miserix or whisper about plots against the Great Spirit. He's all talk.”

Antroz just looks at him. His eyes are deeply crimson. Fire is life and destruction. He shrugs.

“I think he will, Krika,” Antroz answers. “I think he will, in fact, try something.”

That is all it takes. Hearing it from Antroz's mouth, Krika knows it to be true.

“Well,” he says. “I guess we start finding our place in the new order.”

Antroz snorts.

“What?” says Krika.

“By the Spirits,” says Antroz, with a voice that says he is well aware of his own irony. “I tell you a coup is coming and your first instinct is to start re-assessing your political standing?”

“Well, are you going to do anything about it?” Krika returns, standing straighter, turning his whole body towards him.

Antroz says nothing. He is devouring a pear. It turns grey beneath his claws. He drops it overboard and watches it fall into the water and disappear from view.

“Yes, a new order is coming,” says Krika, turning back to the horizon. “But both Teridax and Miserix are foes with whom I have no desire to be involved. I'll keep my mouth shut, and if you're wise, you'll do the same. All I want is to be left on my island to build my Rahi in piece. I do not wish to be either a pawn to Teridax or protective fodder for Miserix's already over-developed sense of power. Let them fight things out on their own. We will still be standing, my brother, as we always have been.”

Antroz squints out at the sun. “And if it doesn't end up like that?”

“How else could it end up?”

Antroz shrugs again.

“I just think,” he says, “that someday – well. Someday we might be called upon to fight battles we would not otherwise have fought. And on that day, Krika, I wonder if you won't wish you had chosen a side you believed in.”

Krika gazes at him. Antroz look out at the sky. The birds are circling overhead.

“You're so full of shit,” says Krika abruptly, and it makes Antroz laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He rolls his eyes and turns around to pick up another pear, digging his claws into the ripe body of the fruit and letting the juice run out. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Hey, what's this about Teridax finding those Toa Mata that are meant to guard the Spirit?” adds Antroz, almost thoughtlessly.

“Don't know,” answers Krika, shrugging his shoulders. “Apparently they're waiting for the day he needs them. But you know Teridax. Probably has his own plans.”

“Yeah,” laughs Antroz. “Yeah, probably does. Oh, look, Tarakava! They're new in this part of the world – that's how you know they're a hardy species, migrating to new places...”

Those short sentences are all they speak of the Toa Mata at that time and, what's more, all they bother to think of them. They don't much care. They were not, then, enemies of the Great Spirit. And Kopaka, Tahu, Gali, Lewa, Onua, and Pohatu – the names meant nothing to them.

But they would.

That's how the stories go, right? That's what they're about. Toa.

Krika will watch it happen. He does not intend, at the time, to be a part of the story.

The rope of his destiny, however, is already closing around his white throat.

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

Krika hears the news of Miserix's death two weeks later. He knows then that he was wrong. Teridax was not all bark and no bite. Teridax bit.

Krika says nothing. Miserix is not the only Makuta who dies that week. He suspects that the ones who join him are the ones who asked too loudly: “Who did this?”

He knows. They all know.

But these are days of survival for the Makuta, and Krika is a survivor, so he keeps his goddamn mouth shut, and rises quietly through the ranks of Teridax's Brotherhood.

And when the calls for better protection come, Teridax offers one solution to his five closest allies, and suddenly those names - Tahu, Gali, Onua, Lewa, Pohatu, and Kopaka - mean something.

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

“I don't want one,” says Krika, and, at the time, he expects that to be the end of the matter.

Antroz looks up at him. His eyes are irritated. Krika crosses his arms over his chest and looks right back.

“Krika,” Antroz begins.

“It's stupid,” says Krika. “What the hell do I need a single Toa for? Maybe it made sense when Miserix and Teridax took teams. At least they might be able to actually take out a couple threats to them - not that Miserix's little team did him any good in the end. But one lone Toa? It's not going to be able to protect me from anything I can't already protect myself from.”

“Krika, I'm quite busy here,” says Antroz, turning back to his latest creation. “Can't you just do what you're told for once? You should be pleased. My pair is already entertaining. They spar all day and the red one yells every time he speaks.”

“I don't want one,” repeats Krika, feeling the small, feathery protrusions on the back of his spine raise with irritation. “I don't need one. It's asinine. I'm going home to my work and I wish to be left alone.”

Antroz looks up at him again. In these days, he is a sight to behold. Clean red colors with sweeping black lines, his mask painted with soft, noble markings, his body strong and tall and sure of itself.

Back in these days, they have nothing to fear. The present is thousands of years away. Today, they are young, and the Swamp has not changed them. And hatred and cruelty and despair – well. These are things that have only begun to change them.

Antroz turns back to his Rahi, stroking its stomach as he takes a sample from its side. “Krika, let's not pretend to be fools. Not you and I. We both know that this is not about protection. They are status symbols. You are rising in the ranks of the Makuta, my brother. Now that you have inherited your new country, you are almost as powerful and respected as I. And so, while Miserix and Teridax take six each for themselves, I take two, and you, like some of our other siblings – ”

“Fools the lot of them,” snarls Krika.

“Take one,” says Antroz coolly. “Take one like you were told. Because with each Toa we make into a Hagah, the more the Matoran come to see us as greater than the Toa. We are becoming, Krika, the most powerful species in creation. And these Toa are special. That is why Teridax had them dug from the ocean. Take one. Just the one. Command a legend and watch as the Matoran transfer their love for the Toa to their love for you.”

“I don't care,” says Krika, “about the love of the goddamn Matoran.”

“Then you are not playing the game right today, brother,” answers Antroz quietly, tinkering with his Rahi, his eyes already distracted by his passion for his creation. “That's not like you. Don't be foolish. Go. I've had enough of you... and I am technically in charge of you, aren't I, Krika?”

He digs his claws into the wall for a second, aching to say more. Aching to protest. He doesn't take orders from anyone but Miserix himself. Or Teridax now, he supposes.

But Antroz is right.

Krika is someone who is learning how to play these games right.

So he does what he always does: he takes what comes at him and he lies in wait.

Just for now. Just for now. He lies in wait.

“Fine,” he says, stalking out of the room. “But I don't want one. I'm not going to be nice to it.”

“Noted,” answers Antroz, already forgetting what they were talking about as he loses himself in his experimentation and building. Ah, he is a creature of passion in these days, and he does not know the taste of real fear.

Krika wanders into the other room, where silver canisters await him in silence, still as dead things.

He brushes condensation from the surface of the one closest at hand. The sleeping face of a Toa Mata looks back at him.

No, check that.

Not a Toa Mata. Not now. Not anymore.

“Looks like you and I are stuck with each other,” murmurs Krika, releasing the lid of the tomb where this Toa has slept for thousands of years, disturbed only by Teridax's command. “Wake up, then, Toa Hagah.”

And Mata Kopaka opens his eyes.

[cluelessgurl]

Hey guys, this is like my first fic ever so I hope you like it. I’d love any feedback as it always helps. Enjoy :)

This was requested by the lovely @jedicatt

You and Him

Pairing- Anakin Skywalker X Female Reader

Summary- You are the outspoken representative of Alderaan and the sister of Bail Organa. When you are under threat, you are put under Jedi protection by no other than Anakin.

Warnings- None :)

Words- 2.7K

The luscious green, peaceful world of Alderaan had been your home since birth. Growing up under the success of your brother Bail meant you always wanted to follow his footsteps, and as you grew older your passion for politics was apparent. You were well-spoken but people would always describe you as fiery, you knew you had to stand up for what you believed in and sometimes that got you in trouble. Like the time, when you as a representative of Alderaan beside your brother Bail spoke out against malicious ways of the Trade federation quite blatantly, so much so, your brother swore he heard hundreds of gasps echoing through the senate. This was definitely one of the times you caused yourself trouble, but this time you swore you'd never take it back because this time, you met him.

‘I don't understand why there's any need for this!’ you gasped out you as scurried to catch up to Bail who was currently huffing down the corridors of the senate, ‘Of course you don't, you never understand when I tell you anything, like when I told you to not associate politics and your rather explicit personal view of the Trade federation together yet here we are’ he exclaimed. Smiling up at him ‘Uh yes, however, they deserved everything I suggested about them and you know it Bail and so do hundreds of other delegates. But Jedi protection? That's highly unnecessary and hyperbolic’, he looked down at you sternly but you could see the amusement in his eyes ‘ Well your suggestions have now got us on the tracks of bounty hunters and assassins,we are in danger, and by ‘we’ I mean you specifically. So I suggest this be the time you do listen’ you sighed in defeat, your brother had always been protective of you, he claimed it was due to your ‘outlandish’ ways but you knew it was because he cared for you. As you made it to the docking bay stepping into your yellow speeder, Bail spoke out ‘We’re heading back to the quarters and there we’ll meet our Jedi representative, please try and be polite or say nothing at all, both are fine’ he chucked, you looked up at him with an unamused expression as he turned the speeder around mid-air , why must he always treat you as if you were a child you thought frustratedly,but then proceeded to smirk the way you always did ‘Of course brother, when have I ever disappointed you’ he managed to give you smile before you sped off.

This is my mission, why must Obi-Wan escort me there as if I am a mere youngling, my master is a wise man, but his misunderstandings about my abilities are frustrating to say the least, Anakin’s mind rushed with thoughts as the elevator bolted up towards the quarters when his thread was broken by Obi- Wan ‘You seem a little on edge, nervous for your first mission?’ Anakin turned swifty ‘Not at all’ he replied a little unconvincingly ‘Are you sure? I haven’t felt you this tense since we fell into that nest of Gundarks’ Obi -Wan chipped amused, “Of course” thought Anakin, rolling his eyes, ‘You fell into that nightmare Master, and I rescued you remember?’ Obi-Wan pondered ‘Oh, yes’ followed by a hearty chuckle, this made Anakin smile. He did appreciate all that he and his master had been through, and after all he did care for him, as this thought passed the padawan’s mind,the elevator came to a halt, and the doors opened. Obi-Wan strode into the quarters, Anakin at his heel, if he was being completely honest, this was not the most thrilling first assignment , Aayla told him that she went ventured into the the notorious streets of Corellia as her first mission without Master Tholme, that all changed though, it all changed when he set his eyes on you. You stood there tall, confident with the most mesmerising smile he had ever seen on any species, it made his heart soar even though he’d never met you, though your eyes said different, they shone bright like the suns on Tatooine, like they’d known him for a thousand cycles with a sense of mischief clear, your hair framed your face perfectly like everything about you, perfect that’s what you were to him, perfect. Anakin was lost in you, so much so that he didn’t hear any of the conversation that was taking place, he only came to his senses when Obi-Wan gave him a rather harsh nudge ‘Anakin!’ he muttered. You chuckled softly looking up Bail.Anakin blinked ‘My apologise Senator Organa, and -uh..’ ‘Y/N, Y/N Organa representative of Alderaan’ you replied gleefully ‘Pleasure to meet you Master Kenobi and Anakin’, you must admit to yourself, when you thought you were going to be under Jedi protection, your imagination took you to the likes of Master Yoda,you did not expect men like Obi-Wan and Anakin who were quite frankly, far too dashing. Maybe this would be fun after all.

After brief discussion, it was decided that you were to be escorted back to Alderaan to the family country house under Anakin’ protection. Following a small , private bicker with Bail about sending you away from the Senate, you gave in and said your goodbyes to him and Master Kenobi and waited for Anakin to do the same. ‘I have faith in you Anakin, keep Y/N safe and don’t do anything without discussing with me or the council first’ Obi-Wan spoke somewhat tense himself ‘I assure you, I will master’ Anakin replied with a strange determination in his eyes, ‘Well then,you best hurry’.

As you two settled down in the surroundings of your passenger starship, covered by unknown faces, Anakin took it upon himself to get to know you. ‘So, what is a lady like you doing as a representative in the senate?’ he quipped, the smile you gave him yet again brought warmth to his heart, ‘Well, I have a tendency to speak my mind, so I thought why not put it to good use?’ you noticed how Anakin’s face sweetly scrunched up as he let out a most sincere chuckle ‘How about you? What is a flyboy like you doing at the Jedi temple’ you asked out of genuine curiosity ‘I was found in Tatooine at a very young age, the temple is all I’ve known since then.’he replied plainly ‘Must be difficult, having sworn your life to the Jedi, not being able to visit the places you like or do things you like’ ‘Or be with the people that I like’ he interrupted with a expression you couldn’t quite decipher, he was proving to be more and more alluring, you decided to let it pass. Changing the topic, you spoke mischievously ‘What do you like to do , apart from being the mighty defenders of the Republic?’ Anakin grinned he found you rather humorous, it lifted his spirits ‘We don’t have much time for hobbies but I'm good at fixing things I always have been , I used to pod race back in Tatooine’ he observed that you seemed to perk up that ‘What?’ Anakin inquired smiling with curiosity, you replied with a proud smirk ‘I pod race too actually, I have since I was little’ Anakin was pleasantly surprised, his earlier interpretation of you being perfect was only proving itself to be true ‘Really? I’m impressed, your talents only add to your ravishing beauty’ Anakin replied with the same mischievous grin that adorned your face earlier. You replied with a quaint smile, trying to disregard the heat rushing to your cheeks, nobody had ever spoken to like that, not in the way he spoke to you.

As the starship was just about to land, you stared out of the window you couldn't lie, you did miss home. Anakin stared at you whilst you peered out the window with a smile reaching high up to your cheeks. He must admit, Alderaan was an exquisite planet but to him, nothing compared to your bewitching beauty. Anakin knew he shouldn’t let his mind wander to thoughts such as these, he was a Jedi, he was supposed to be void of attachments. Y/N turned around, her hair gliding across her back ‘Come Anakin, I’ve got lots to show you’ stripping Anakin of his thoughts ‘ Of course Milady’ he smirked through his reply.

Y/N and Anakin spent most of the morning discussing, and jesting around about their strict lives back in Coruscant. Y/N showed Anakin her pod racer that she had previously built, Anakin seemed more and more invested in her life, slowing getting lost in the way she talked, smooth and resilient, like she believed in everything she said, even if she did say some questionable things which only made him laugh like he hadn’t in years. Currently, they were sat down at the table, feasting on some Starblossom fruit, an Alderaan speciality. Just as Anakin made the fruit float your mind also floated to a thought ‘Are you allowed to love?’ I sputtered out, Blast! What was that Y/N?, this was the first time you regretted being so vocal, this was sure to make things awkward ‘I mean, isn’t it forbidden for a jedi?’. You were surprised when he simply just smiled at you, his eyes looking straight into your own, they were blue and deep like the oceans of Mon Calamari, completely mesmerised ,you sighed softly, ‘Attachment is forbidden. Possession is forbidden. Compassion, which I would define as unconditional love, is central to a Jedi’s life’ he smirked ‘So you might say that we are encouraged to love’ if you weren’t already completely lost in him, you were now, nobody had ever left you speechless like he had now, silent at his fingertips. Just by using a number of words, there was something so special about him.

The next morning Anakin was woken with the bright sun rays shining upon his eyes and by the roar of your pod racer, pod racer? Anakin quickly changed and jogged out towards the sound, it seemed to be taking him in the direction of the Alderaanian flame-rose fields you had shown him yesterday. There he saw you, standing under the warm sun, you looked ethereal. Your skin glowing, your lips appeared so soft, so comforting, he swore he had never seen anything more beautiful. He noticed it wasn’t just one pod racer that was stagnant by your side, but a second one, now he matched the smirk jeweled on your face. ‘You said you used to pod race so I thought, why not test your skills?’ he smiled so fully, his face felt tight as a tied rope ‘Oh really? I wouldn’t want to undermine your abilities, Milady' ‘Don’t you worry about that Anakin, you don’t want to underestimate me’ ‘Of course, I wouldn’t dare’ he laughed content. Ah that laugh, it made your heart want to jump out and fly away, it made your day already. You both buckled up into your pods, making sure all the dials are at the correct calibration, gave each other one last glance and a signature smirk and sped off, you both doing unnatural speeds to the passing eye, dipping under trees and spinning to reach higher altitudes. Anakin was staying right beside you, almost harmlessly mocking you, you recalibrated the ignition switch and sped off, Anakin raised his eyebrows in surprise, he was genuinely impressed but his competitive side got the best of him, soon he met your speed. The finishing line by the trees was dangerously close you both looked at each other, eyes locked with determination and lips spilling with playful laughter, however, as you and Anakin were lost in each other,you failed to notice the flock of Nerfs herding around grass, you spotted them at the last second and tilted your racer up towards the sky. The finishing line was right ahead, Anakin was mere inches away and you were adamant on winning so, you jumped out of your pod. You steered towards the line and crossed it seconds before Anakin, landing on a patch of flame roses. Anakin’s eyes widened, he abandoned the pod and dashed towards you figure, laying face front ‘Y/N!, Y/N’ he rolled you over, only to hear you burst out laughing, he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in ‘You should have seen your face! Your soul left your body, I swear’ you let out holding your stomach ‘Of course I was! Obi-Wan would have killed me if I let anything happen to you’ Anakin spoke out between chuckles, trying to hide his anxiety ‘Hmm I think not,I think you're terrified at the thought of anything happening to me’ you smirked. Anakin started into your eyes, shook his head and said nothing, but he started tickling your sides which only made you giggle further, you both rolled down the field, roaring with laughter. Anakin had never felt this happy and untroubled before in his life, as you both laid on the grass, the scent of roses brimming in the air, basking under the sun, you and him both letting out sighs of contentment, hands intertwined.

It was late at night, you were restlessly tossing and turning in your bed, your mind was whirling with thoughts of him, his smile, the way he spoke to you and only you, his golden hair glowing in the heat of the sun, his Padawan braid that you’d twirl between your fingers, you giggled yourself; you never had feelings like these sitting in the center of your heart, but it didn’t feel wrong. Your heart took you to the place it always took you when your mind was wandering like this.

Anakin felt your restlessness, his concern grew and grew until he had to come find you, you were right, he was terrified at the thought of anything happening to you. He gave in and, walked timidly towards your room, when you didn't answer to his knock, his anxiety took control. He composed himself and searched his feelings like his master had taught him, he let the force be his guide in search for your signature he’d progressed to love. Anakin's legs finally led him to the roof, where he saw you lying there on the ground under the lights of the stars ‘Y/N, are you okay? I couldn’t find you’, you replied with a simple ‘Join me’, Anakin didn’t hesitate and laid down beside you, he looked up at the glittering stars scattered in the sky of Alderaan, there was a gentle breeze, the scent of roses still following the both of you, then he turned to face you, he watched your chest rise and fall, his anxiety disappearing slowly just at the sight of you, you radiated beauty, charm and confidence, everything he had grown to love about you ‘I come here when my mind runs wild with thoughts’ you spoke out gently, you turned to look at him only to find him already looking at you. ‘What are you thinking about?’ Anakin inquired softly, you stared into his eyes, still bright and blue even in the shadow of dusk, you uttered timidly ‘You' he gave you a wide smile, ‘You’re all I think about Y/N, I love you’ he spoke barely above a whisper, so much so, that you wouldn’t have heard him if your faces weren’t so close and they only got closer when you replied with ‘I love you, with all of my heart’, the small gap between you and him started to close ever so slowly, shaky breaths falling from the both of your lips until they met with a chaste kiss.

You’d never regret the trouble you’d caused yourself that day at the senate, because you‘d always remember his deep eyes staring back at your own all those times, you’d never regret it because you met him. Anakin knew he’d never let you go, his other half he’d met on his first assignment, he’d never forget your face illuminated by the stars, the pure beauty of your face and mind. And for you both, it’d always be you and him.

[hag-rambling-on]

Fairy Transformations

Yes, they can go back to a previous form. Except Charmix, read it.

WARNING LONG POST

Winx - Yes

The most difficult of transformations, even if you only need to do it ONE time. And then the other times, to transform you again are optional. Love yourself. The wings are of medium-small size AND the only ones purely solid, like extra appendages. They move like the wings of a hummingbird.

Charmix - Yes/Redesign. Actually there are many types of Charmix. 

Charmix is what you call the temporary boost or power up, the antechamber you can summon while chasing a transformation, while fighting/training/searching for said form. It usually invokes the wings and superimposes some other characteristic detail of said transformation with your current form.

Obviously It's temporary and once you get the transformation you're looking for, you never get THAT Charmix again. Like If you was searching for the Believix, you lost your Charmix/Believix but still can get the Charmix/Enchantix, or if you were in Enchantix your Enchantix-Charmix/Believix.

I already said in another post, fairies spend a year shaping their basic fairy look - sometimes with hilarious results - until it stabilizes. The charmix is a similar process... but easier, more directed, more focused since unlike the basic form, you have a good foundation and an clear objective where the Winx was a doubtful jump where you did not see the end.

Enchantix - Yes

Sacrifice - but not - for others. Love others, apreciate others lifes. But not from a point your conscience perceive ir as selfish. Big but not solid wings, although fairies can perceive them as both an appendage and an extra sense. Most wings feel like this.

Believix - Yes

To be loved, believed by others. Very big wings too. Like basic ones, also like hummingbirds. It is highly influenced by the people around you, but it also allows you to influence them. Not many people use it. But it has a lot of potential.

Gifts of Destiny: Sophix/Lovix are reinvented, as they do not exist as this transformation per se. These are environmental transformations and some winx manage to win these in Believix.

Harmonix - Yes

It’s have a witch equivalent form.

A better form than enchantix, which works to face easyly any Realms Transformations (Life, Death, Space/Time, Dreams, Magic). So to get like all the new forms under here, you theoretically want to have the Harmonix first. Unless an Ethereal gives you a quick pass (which is what happens to the Winx with the Forestix and the Polarix). Kinda, love the world, the universe where you lives.

This is because the Harmonix gives you an overall boost in all magical abilities and allows you to move through all environments to some degree.

... I'd better redesign the costumes a bit because suddenly this is the most important transformation.

Ok, pre-series??? the easiest, trickiest of the roads to getting the Harmonix, was to go to Domino and have the "ok, just go away I’m working, gesh, I can believe I must donate 1h of my time every day to this” of someone from the royal family. Since they are "blessed" by an Ethereal on our planet of existence.

The other way is to go to a crossing of ley lines and open your magic core to natural magic, manifesting your resolution. The world is semi conscious, it does not care if you are good or bad, it look at your determination and if you do not let yourself be carried away by the waves, because as the weather changes, on the ley lines, the magic changes too, it can be overwhelming.

“Elemental” -More like Envionmental ones, Life Realm

My equivalent to: Sirenix, Sophix, Lovix, Greenix etctera.

Do not had exacty witch equivalents but their harmonix get the alltogether called Milieu Talismans.

You don't need the Harmonix for them, but it makes it easier.

To get these forms you are supposed to do a search for a special object at each transformation. If you have been able to tune into natural magic, it is a matter of doing it again and it will give you a vision. With time limit. You have to interpret the vision and complete the mision. Of course, if you love where you are, the mission is feels easy because you know how to move.

These are "blessed" by the Great Dragon, since they are transformations that affect the Plane of Life, so Bloom gets a +1 in all and usually seems the strongest one, minus in the Desertix, here +3.

Polarix: Won by the Winx during their Believix period. The perfect transformation for ice or snow users, for those living in the taiga, tundra, polar deserts or even the arctic. It has the peculiarity of covering the whole body, either with tights and long sleeves and translucent materials or clothes that really look warm. Fluffy it’s best, but also geometric details. Equivalent to the Lovix one.

Forestix: Won by the Winx during their Believix period. With details of flowers, branches, leaves, moss, mushrooms. Anything of a vegetable or fungus environment. It gives Flora more strength (+2) and she keeps its as her default form if there is any problem with their current one. Equivalent to the Sophix one.

Desertix: Deserts, savannas. Increases heat tolerance and and temperature changes in general, favors fire, fire related and crystal attacks. It would favor Bloom, if she got it. The wings give a rough impression, like swirling sand or fire.

Cavernix: Suitable for life in the deep Earth. Helps with pressure, darkness, temperature changes, lack of oxygen. Their outfits and wings show rigid lines and some kind of gem depending on the person. It would favor Diaspro if I had it. In fact, it also would favors Musa, because it boosts her ultrasounds.

Mountainix: A tactical agreement between heaven and earth. Altitude, lower oxygen, low temperatures. It is a form quite sought after by people who want a general boost in their magic since it takes up a bit of everything. This would be the best for Tecna as is a liminal transformation, as her magic is -liminal I mean- which tapes natural and artificial magics-

Skyix: If you want to live uniquely and exclusively in heaven, this is your transformation. If your magic revolves around the weather or winds, this is your transformation. Sometimes people get it accidentally while looking for the Mountainix. The ears disappear and the eyes change to adapt to strong winds and harsh weather. Featherlike wings.

Mermaidix: A form adapted to life in the oceans and the depths, includes beaches, mangroves, etc.  It can tolerate unsalted water, but not too well (marshes). It gives Aisha more strength. Wear details of the sea such as algae, corals, shells, starfish, sea dollars, etc and the wings become a little they act more like a dorsal fin, also, mermaid/octopi/jellyfish tails. Equivalent to the Sirenix.

Naiadix: The transformation akin of people of fresh waters like fountains, wells, springs, streams and brooks. Includes swamps and bogs. It can tolerate salty water, but not too well (marshes). Use very delicate fabrics, reeds, wild rice, water lilies and some other ornamental flowers. It maintains the legs but swimming membranes appear on the hands, feet and ears, the wings shrink to be more dynamic. It’s cries “wet”. Also favors Aisha.

Cosmix: This form doesn't actually fall under the Great Dragon, but the Ethereal that dominates it can't be bothered to cares. To get it you have to befriend a Lumen. Who are creatures that live in their stars (not planets). It allows you to move through space. Favors Stella.

MORIX AND SOMNIX, Death and Dreams Realms - mine and retouched dreamix/onyrix

They had witch equivalents.

Morix - The transformation blessed by the Phoenix. You must have Harmonix. A very misunderstood transformation, it allows you to communicate with the world of the dead, rest agitated spirits and the people they left here, not just summon zombies -which look like shadows. And you are sooo much harder to kill. It also increases your healing abilities, humans and nature related. [Not all Good is purely Good. And not all Evil is purely Evil.] Ripped, gnawed clothes. Their wings barely move. Darkar is a Morix Fae in this rewinxing. Witches from almost dying a couple of times can access this form. That's bad and sad and traumatic. And it doesn't work for fairies. It is a complicated transformation for the fairies if you have not received it as a gift. Accepting and welcoming death as part of life, especially for such long lives, is difficult.

Dreamix - CANCELLED, Harmonix acting as this au charmix. Time limit.

Somnix- You must have Harmonix. SO, kinda transformation blessed by another Ethereal but this one usually kinda say hi to people more frecuently (in their dreams -no joking). Then you have to immerse yourself in a magical induced dream, come out of your own dream and find the Door to the Ethereal Palace and get an ok. Or unconsciously wander outside of your own dreams long enough to collect energy from the Dream Plane. On the Plane of Dreams which watch out, it's a realm of dreams and nightmares. Good thing fairies attrack good dreams... normally. It’s the Onyrix one.

Bloomix - As much as it is one of my favorite designs when it comes to outfits... Cancelled.

It’s simply tuning in to a ley line and recharging in this au, although it is crazy, like having a broken leg, fixing it, getting high and going for a run, it is better to give some time or meditate, just meditate... unless you do it as a group in a wild magic crossroad and don’t die in the attempt I guess. Then Wild Renmants.

Faunix - Yes

Love and be loved by an animal. If Roxy were a fairy in rewinxing (here is a witch), she would have gotten this form by default.

Tynix - Cancelled

Along with MiniWorlds There are many planets, there are nature reserves. And if there wasn't, from enchantix you can miniaturize yourself.

Mythix -... YES

Ugg... I REALLY DON’T LIKE THIS FORM AT ALL. redesign redesign, REDESIGN.... *note to seft, armor, give the armor I delete in Bloomix*

Can be use by a witch, or even a specialist, Mike or Vanessa, same name.

You must prove themselves before any of the Seven Ancestral Rods. All identical in form and color, except when used. They contain the fragments of conscience and magic of their former users. And they demand fragments of yours to be used, so that each next user who comes is more worthy of their power and gets even stronger. Commit.

So it's someone else's clothes with little, very little influences from you. It includes armor -because I want- Because the Ancient Ones were prepared to die.

NYMPHIX - my version

Has a witch equivalent.

Only achieved by those who have achieved ... all of the different Realms. Daphne has it.. because, she's Dahne. And she is older than she looks.

A long robe-tunic-flowy cloth, any style, just a single accessory, bare feet.

You also have to pass a test somewhere in Magix or Hike's asteroid belt remains, but not even nymphs / lampads can share that information even if they want!.

PHILAUTHIX  - NEW

This is a hypothesized form only.  Or seen in precognitive visions "what if?"  1/-

Its looks like an ageless version of the winx form. With bigger wings, intricate details only appreciable up close, intangible.

Winx form is achieved by feeling proud or with yourself for a moment, and that memory is the activator of the subsequent transformations.

Philauntix It is achieved by loving yourself (2.0), the good and the bad, what you did, are doing and what you will do. Not forgiving it, loving it. And not for a second, it has to be something frequent enough that energy has been stored for a while to activate this transformation.

ENKIX  - NEW

Believed it was only obtained by those who have obtained in Nymphix... until the Winx obtained it. Be loved... by a Ethernal.

The last transformation for the last Realm. Magic. Magic at its Purest Form.

There may be more transformations based on things that people love. Music, travel. Or in different acts of love. Kill for love, surrender, give up something IMPORTANT for love. But I'm not going to start designing more.

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 36- Addows

(what’s this, a chapter on monday? Yes! Starting today and for the foreseeable future, LoL will now update mondays and fridays! Hopefuly it will gain more attention when it updates more often,,,)

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

If the hermits hope to enter the most dangerous place in Lairyon, they need to know about the Forest of Memories. Xisuma, Cub, and Joe venture to the haunted city of Addows in search of information.

____________________________________

Mist swirls around Xisuma, his vision obscured by the thick fog of the city. Old, ancient buildings are all around him, once a city of the ancient ones still alive with the people of Lairyon. Massive stone temples, graveyards for heroes and legends, buildings with no known purpose that now house creeds and clairvoyants. 

Addows is a home of ghosts. Ghosts of the past, present in both tomes that the temples and libraries hold, and actual spirits that wander the eternally misty street. No one is spooked by the spooks, just another face in the crowd. 

And it’s the perfect place for the hermits to dig up ancient knowledge. If anywhere would have information on the Forest of Memories, it would be the hallowed halls of Addows. Cub creeps closer to Xisuma, not quite sure if he likes not being able to see more than a few feet in front or behind him. He’s sure there’s some sort of proverb that Joe would spew at him about this and the past or whatever, but right now he doesn’t want to hear it. Joe, meanwhile, is loving this atmosphere. The spooky vibes, the aged buildings and haunting people. He could write entire novels about this place, how much it fits his aesthetic. He may just have to build a new library on Eremita to match this.  Plus, his fuzzy cloak is comfortable and fits in well with the shadowed passersby. 

The three hermits wander the streets, walking through the midday mist, watching as buildings appear from nothing and disappear once again. Joe gets distracted every once in awhile on a witch’s shop, books older than the kingdom, apothecaries with all kinds of rare materials, and about a dozen different colored candles. And lots of rocks. TFC would have a field day. 

But after what feels like both hours and seconds of walking down the twisting streets of the ancient city, they finally arrive where they need to be. A building so old that the rain and forest has weathered it down, and a whole new layer of detritus has turned to dirt, ferns, trees, and vines growing down the massive stone pillars. In the weathered carving, the purpose of the ancient building remains the same. It’s a library, the largest in all the kingdom and filled with the most extensive, the most knowledgeable, and the most ancient of works. In languages long dead and unrevivable, written by ghost writers that now haunt these halls, and recounted by the living and the dead that wander the stacks. 

“And a delightful young adult section with some of my favorite works for young readers.” Joe hums. “Anything, and I mean anything-” He pauses, letting Xisuma and Cub fill in what he means, “can be found in the national library of Addows.” 

“That means if there’s anywhere that will tell us how to handle the Forest of Memories, or what could be hiding in there, it’s here.” Xisuma wanders down the stacks. All three hermits itch to reach out and pull books of their favorite genres or authors. Cub wants to dive into the deep end of the ancient ones history. Xisuma wants to study the great works of the best astronomers. And Joe wants to read the most mind boggling pieces that make absolutely no sense. He loves that feeling of being left confused about what he just read. 

They search the tomes, from geography to history, history to science. They search every section- even the young adult section. Cub resorts to portaling around rather than running the worn stone stairs, but to no avail. In the end, all three of the hermits are sitting in an alcove of ferns and vines, staring out over the thick misted city. 

“It wasn’t in anything. Has no one ever written about the Forest of Memories?” Xisuma grumbles, pulling off his mask. It’s not like there’s any sun, he doesn’t need his brother’s creation. 

“Someone had to. It’s been around for eons and is nestled in the heart of Lairyon. I can think of so many epics that could rely solely upon those two aspects.” Joe speaks with his head on his hands, looking over the library. Where haven’t they checked? “I’m starting to think it’s not even real, just a bunch of folktales.” 

Silence, until Cub’s eyes light up. “Folktales! Where do you put everything that you don’t know or understand?” 

“In the trash bin?” Joe’s dry humor is not lost on Xisuma, but Cub is too excited. 

“The folklore!” Cub summons his magic, a portal opening between the hermits, taking them to the very entrance of the library. The beginning of it all. He jumps through, skidding into a cracked pillar, but the stone is held fast by roots of the forest. Joe and Xisuma follow after, the portal collapsing behind them. 

“Forest….forest...forest…” Cub whispers, running his fingers along books, scrolls, even just tablets of stone. “Forest, Evernight. Nope. Forest, Creation of. No…” 

He stops, fingers coming to rest on a manuscript. Two wood planks pressing fabric pages together. It has no written title, but the front of the book is a tree with it’s branches intertwined like that of a brain. Cub grabs the manuscript, opening it with fervor. “Godsdamnit.” 

“What’s wrong now?” Xisuma sighs, peering over the portal mage’s shoulder. But the symbols scrawled on the fabric are meaningless to them both. Not even Joe, who purveys in ancient and useless knowledge, has no ability to read the book. 

“Ahh, The Journey to the Center of Lairyon’s Mind. A very good work. Quite dense.” All three hermits shriek, echoing in the quiet library as a misty head appears through the bookshelves. They should have been prepared for a ghost, but in the heat of the moment, they forgot they were in the most haunted city in the kingdom.

“H-have you read this? Can you r-read this language?” Joe holds the book out. 

The ghost steps through the shelves, her hand becoming solid enough to hold up the piece. “It’s old kipling. Before they integrated into one oceanic script. Back in the early days, when Lairyon was just a bunch of warring nations. Ah, the oceans were so peaceful in comparison.” 

“What does the author say? What does this mean?” Joe points at the fine print of a page that the kipling opened. 

“It’s the dedication! It’s to me!” She laughs, ghostly fin ruffling with joy. “My wife was such a wonderful author, she is still curious to this day.” 

Xisuma surges up to the ghost, no longer afraid. “The author, she’s still here? Where is she?” 

“Why, I’m sure she’s moping around our gravestone, waiting for me to come back so she can tell me more stories that she picked up from the other ghosts.” The kipling ghost pauses. “Would you like to meet her, or rather just read through this dingy old book? Why not meet the real adventurer Cielle DuNord? Bravest woman ever, only person to enter the heart of the Forest of Memories and come back sane. At least...only recorded person.” 

From the oldest library, the hermits follow the bouncing kipling down the street to the oldest cemetery. Sometimes they lose sight of her in the fog, her ghostly figure becoming a part of the mist and disappearing. But it just takes a laugh and a call from Lady Nellaime, her dress swaying like kelp in the waves, and they’re back on track. The misty glen opens to reveal ancient tombs and stones, but Nellaime waltzes through the historic graveyard as she would saunter through a flower garden. 

Despite the spooky feeling, it’s not scary. The hermtis feel a sense of calm respect among the gates. Rare flowers bloom at the entrances of mausoleums, trees sprouting from burial mounds. Candles provide light along the well cared pathway, and a child runs by, smiling as he trips and hugs an ancestor’s gravestone. 

From the mist, a glowing form appears, hugging the boy back. The ghost settles down in the grass, chatting with the family. Nellie continues past, deeper into the heart of the graveyard, seemingly bigger on the inside. The tombs age the deeper they walk, until Nellie stops at a raised crypt. Carved in the ancient coral stone, two smiling faces rest on their backs, the women’s hands intertwined at the center. Nellie skips onto the tombstone, knocking on the nose of the other kipling. “My sweet Cielle, you have visitors! More fans of yours!”

The eyes blink open, misty blue lashes fluttering. A noncorporeal form drifts from the stone crypt, dress flowing from existing to not, strong arms reaching over and hugging her wife. “You always make friends so fast. Living or dead, you just make people smile. Just like lighting up my life, my little ghost light.” 

“Not in front of guests.” Nellie giggles, her fins fluttering from the sweet kiss. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of such…” Cielle looks the three up and down. “Unique visitors upon my grave?” 

“Are you really the only person who has made it out of the Forest of Memories alive?” Xisuma wastes no time, which causes both ladies to titter.

“No, though I know Nellie here likes to be hyperbolic. Quite a few people have gone into the Forest without going crazy. But you have to be prepared to enter in.” Cielle leans forward, tugging a ghostly finger through Xisuma’s hair like a mother combing a child’s hair. 

“Prepare? What kind of spells do we need? Weapons?” Cub flips through the pages of the book, but it’s in a completely unknown language to him. 

“You can prepare yourself physically as long as you like, but it won’t do much. You have to prepare yourself mentally.” Cielle taps her head, and giggles. “See, for me, all I had to do was think about my fiancee back in Corelpi. I dunno how, but it was like a walk through a garden.” 

“But there is one place that knows all about the Forest of Memories. Where the most people have entered and returned relatively sane.” Nellaime grins, a few locks of hair falling from her messy bun. Cielle reaches over and fixes the loose locks. “Fielville!” 

“Of course,” Xisuma slaps his hand on his head, leaving a bright red mark on his skin. “Druids, insectia, the oldest traditions from the ancient ones are still practiced there.” 

“The elder there has entered and exited the Forest of Memories more than even I have- but then again, she lives longer than me, which isn’t fair.” Cielle sits back. “But be warned- no matter how prepared you think you are for that wood, it will be nothing compared to the true might of the forest. You will return with whatever trove you are in search of-” She pauses. “Or you will not return at all.”

[justoceanmyth]

happy ffwf!! what's an au you really want to read for any of the fandoms you're in but just haven't seen floating around yet? why? do you think you'll write it one day? (- thinkingisadangerouspastime)

(Hey look I'm actually answering your questions this week 🤡) 

 Ah! You always ask the best questions!💙 

 So, to be completely honest, I'm generally not a huge fan of AUs. 

 Okay when I put it like that, it sounds like I don't like reading them, which isn't true. I do like reading them, I'm just not likely to come up with an idea and write it myself. At least for the Alternate Universe AUs-- I'm not going to go out and write a Mafia AU or a Vampire AU, for example, though if I saw one that seemed interesting I'd absolutely read it. 

 I tend to enjoy writing AUs that are more "What If" scenarios than anything else. So inexplicable time travel, canon divergence, scenarios that don't quite play by canon rules but could have *hypothetically* happened-- those are much more my wheelhouse. 

 That being said, while I don't have any AUs for other fandoms at the moment, I do have a couple for ATLA. While I'm not going to disclose some of them, given that there are a few I doubt will ever make it into fic form but I'm not quite ready to part with, here's one that I would love other people to write and experiment with: 

I would LOVE IT if more people would write about the possibilities of Aang's spirit wandering the South Pole while he was trapped in the ice. One of my current thoughts about this is Aang acting as a guiding spirit to ships that get caught in storms in the southern ocean-- but there are so many potential stories to be told, and that's only one possibility!

[missing-aria-blog]

“Invisible” Chapter 2: Stand in the Light

A year has passed since that night when your life changed forever.  You fled the city of your birth and never looked back.  You now lead a quiet life as a healer’s apprentice in a town far from your home.  The prince of this region is a bit… odd, but his people were more or less happy and Prince Average had never met you so there was no chance he’d recognize you if you were to see him in the streets.  

You lived in the attic above the shop that your teacher, Mistress Grey, ran.  She hadn’t asked too many questions when you’d answered her help wanted sign.  Your knowledge of herbs and slaves had been more than enough for her to take you on as an apprentice and the work suited you.  You’d been getting on well enough that she largely left the general business of making remedies to you these days.  Her daughter ran the shop below and was kind to you, even if she had no healing gift herself.  She knew the stock and that was all that she really needed.  

You step out onto the rooftop terrace where your herb garden thrives.  Your assortment of healing herbs and flowers was probably half the reason your teacher had taken you on so easily.  You smile as you trail your fingertips over the leaves and petals around you, each plant seeming to twine briefly around your hand as you pass over it.  Pulses of joy and contentment at the morning sun’s rays filtered through their touch and into your mind.   Good, you could enjoy your day off to its fullest.

Today was the last day of the local festival and your teacher had given you leave to enjoy the celebration.  She was to depart the next morning to buy some of the rarer materials needed in the practice’s medicines, so you needed to enjoy the time off while you had it.  She’d offered to bring you with her, but this particular trip would go a bit too close to your hometown for comfort.  

Even in the short time you’d been with Mistress Grey you’d been able to travel all over the continent.  She’d even taken you to the ocean!  That had been a fun trip and she’d taught you all sorts of medicinal uses for various seaweeds.  You’d miss her while she was gone this time.  Her daughter, Marina, was your age though and was excellent company.  

You left the terrace, closing the doors behind you before going to examine yourself in the mirror.  Your hair was done up in a braided crown, silk flowers woven into it in hues of pink and white.  Your green dress was well suited to the spring festivities and beautiful weather.  

Taking your light cloak off of the hook by the door you make your way downstairs.  Marina is packing jars of salves and pouches of dried herbs into a large basket, probably to bring out to the stall set up in front of the shop for the festival.  She looks up and smiles at you as you peer into the basket.

“Are you sure you have enough for today?” you ask as you notice certain cures are looking a bit low, namely the hangover teas.  Not surprising given the parties that went on during festivals.  

Marina playfully rolls her eyes at you, “Yes of course!  Mother is already working on packaging up what you two made yesterday.  Go enjoy yourself.  I saw the baker putting out some of those croissants you love so much.  If you hurry you’ll catch them while they’re still warm.”  

“Fine fine.  But you will let me know if you need me, yes?” you pull a necklace out from the front of your dress.  It’s a simple leather cord with what looks to be a plain white adder stone hanging from it.  There was magic in the rock.  If Marina or her mother activated their own stones it would let you know to return to the shop post haste.  They’d been a pricey bit of magic, but completely necessary when emergency patients came through the door.

“You know I will,” Marina made a shooing gesture with her free hand, “Now leave before I tell mother that you need a whole WEEK off.”

You gasp in mock horror before giving her a quick hug and heading out the front door.  

It was still a bit early and most of the stalls were only just finishing their set-ups, but the baker was already quite busy.   Even so, he spotted you and waved you past the crowd, “I set one aside special for you my dear.  You really helped me out of a bind with those herbs.  I really thought we’d ordered enough but that boy must have counted our stock wrong.”  

“Don’t be too harsh on him, he is your grandson after all,” you smile as you gratefully accept the offered croissant swirled with pink strawberry jelly, “He’ll get the hang of it.”  

The baker sniffs but it’s obvious he isn’t actually mad about the situation.  Just putting on a face, “Well, either way, keep me in mind if you ever have a surplus in the future.  I don’t know how you grow such flavorful stock but you truly have a gift.” “I will!  Thank you for the breakfast!”  You wave and duck out of the way of the hungry crowd.  

You munch on the pastry as you wander through the stalls, stopping here and there to browse and occasionally purchase items to be delivered to the shop later on.  There are dancers, musicians, and other artists displaying their talents for everyone to witness and you stop here and there to watch and listen, your body swaying gently to the music.  

As the day goes on the town square begins getting set up for the evening musical performances and the dance that will likely last until the wee hours of the morning.  Multicolor paper lanterns are strung from cords above the square and lit with care.  Vendors sell the springbell flowers that are the icon of this particular festival.  It’s tradition to buy one to give to those you hold great affection for.  A symbol of the hope that your bond will grow in the year to come.  The flower is one that can sprout roots from its stem when tended with care, and it’s considered good luck if the flower you’re gifted with thrives under your care.  

You stop at one of the carts, “Two please,” you reach into your belt pouch and pull out the required coins, handing them to the seller as she hands you back three of the blooms, “Oh, you gave me an extra one…” The woman shakes her head, “It’s the same price for three as it is for two.  We had a good harvest this year.  Thanks for that fertilizer by the way.  It worked like magic!” “I’m glad!  Let me know if you need more.” you carefully tuck the blooms away in a hardshell leather pouch, making sure the stems are properly wrapped before closing them up safely inside.  

As you turn back towards the town square you hear shouting coming from one of the alleyways.  Out of curiosity you make your way towards the sound.  Whomever is making the noise is clearly moving away from the main street but you can still make out some words.  ‘Hand it over’ stands out in particular.  You hurry after the retreating sounds, reaching out with your inner magic to feel for the roots under the paving stones and the vines crawling up walls.

The alleyway makes a sharp turn behind a shop that’s closed for the festival, which would explain how no one else had noticed this happening in what was a mostly safe town.  You press yourself against the wall before peeking around the corner.  You see two men, clearly not locals, standing over something, or rather… someone.  You can’t see whomever they’re harassing, but it clearly isn’t a friendly encounter.

“I can tell by your clothes that you’ve got money dwarf, so hand it over and we’ll let you go without TOO much damage.” the man’s companion chuckles darkly as he flips a knife in the air.

“Ah yes well, you see there’s the problem,” the responding voice is heavily accented, but speaks with a distinctly calm air.  You aren’t sure if it’s confidence or stupidity, but either way  you can’t stand idly by.

“Hey!” you shout as you step out from behind the corner.  You can feel the magic in the earth below you responding to your anger.  How dare these thugs try to ruin someone’s day like this!  Your attention is locked on the two who whirl to face you, so you don’t really see who they were threatening before said person seems to blink out of existence.  A fellow magic user?  Well that would explain why he hadn’t seemed concerned.  Of course that left you with two very tall, very buff thieves to deal with on your own.  

They both narrow their eyes, then sly gins split their faces as they realize they’re dealing with a single, if a bit angry looking, girl.

“Well well, what do we have here?” the knife flipper takes a step towards you.

“You lost us our payday girlie…” the other growls, “You should have just kept going.” “Maybe so,” You can feel the roots under their feet pushing at the flagstones, “But maybe you two just picked the wrong town.”  

You’re about to call the roots up to tangle their legs when a barrel lid comes flying out of nowhere, braining the knife guy upside the head.  The other turns, confused, just in time for an invisible something to come crashing into his nose, causing blood to spray as it breaks.  He sears as he looks around in a panic.  His eyes land on you, “W-witch!”  

You probably look just as confused as he does, “That wasn’t me...”  You gather yourself and smile at the guy, “Looks like you’ve ticked off the town’s guardian spirit.”  The lie rolls smoothly off of your tongue, you father was a master merchant after all.  You knew your fair share of fast talking.  

“G-guardian spirit?  You’re lying!” he tries to help his dazed companion back to his feet with one arm while his other hand covers his bleeding nose.  

“Well, I could be.  But then, if I’m lying then you’re right and I’m a witch that you just pissed off,” you shrug, “Either way, I’d say you’re screwed.”

The man’s eyes widen, “You’ll regret this!” he drags his friend along with him as he flees into the surrounding woods.

“Doubtful,” you mutter as he disappears from sight.  You send energy down the connected lifeforce of the woods, urging the very forest itself to trip up and otherwise hinder the thugs, lending credence to the claim of a ‘guardian spirit’.  When you’re sure that they aren’t coming back you scan the alleyway, “Hello…?”  

Silence greets you for a long while, then that accented voice answers you, “Merci mademoiselle, for the rescue.”  ------------------------------------------------------ Fanfic “Invisible” is available to read on Wattpad https://www.wattpad.com/story/259956086-invisible-jack-x-reader

[dorkyungsoowrites]

Eros

Pairings: Kyungsoo x You

Genre: Fluff | Jane Austen AU

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.4k

Description: Ancient Greeks insist that there are eight different kinds of love, each given a name that holds special meaning…Eros: passionate love.

A/N: Requested by someone whose name is lost to the ether (I’m sorry I hope you find this. I remember it was “Kyungsoo x Reader by a lake plus neck kisses”), and inspired by a post @monicaexol​ made here. Also because you seemed excited, @j-pping​.

| Storge | Eros | ?

There is strict protocol for how a lady's morning is carried out. There is fairly strict--but not as strongly enforced--protocol for her schedule the rest of the day on most occasions afterward. And there are supremely stringent rules to educate them with proper manners and etiquette, usually through classes. At last there are the most dangerous and exhilarating rules cultivated and given by society to every girl as she rises into a woman to prepare them for the rigors and wiles of men. One learns most of these by proxy. If one is blessed with a doting mother, or in fact perhaps sisters were the best teachers second only to the honest and civil conversation with a gentleman, one could be moderately informed of the absolute blunder that fondness breeds on first approach.

So was the path of all affairs before engagement. Gossip and whispers and rumors flew faster than a lark, and the bird that flew it there held the biggest sway in reputation. Promoting each attendant of a party at least a week before the occasion, with each household choosing their favorites. Particularly of the young men and women who were eligible for their matchmaker gambling. Encouraging men to dance with particular women to line their pockets with pride.

That was how most couples met. It was how you met your sweetheart. Your family tittered about the gentleman that had come to visit the hosts of the future soiree for the summer. Japing about his reputation for being curt and austere. In truth you had been intrigued by the tales of his character for it seemed that you should not wholly trust the word of the birds alone.

It was most wise to hold back judgment for when you arrived at the gathering, for you were afflicted in the heart the moment of introduction. Mesmerized by his dark, severe eyes; striking you immobile with but a moments gaze. The memory was as clear as glass in your mind. The shape of his eyes, the intelligence and intensity in his irises, the way your breath tightened as your bosom inflamed. Longing, lusting, light-headed. You'd never seen such eyes.

So were the eyes you sought out a month after the party. The morning had been much the same as any other; your handmaiden helped you dress. First was your shift; a plain cotton garment you often slept in. Then the simple clocked stockings, secured with ribbon garter at the knee. A petticoat was necessary for warmth and modesty. Then the stay was laced around your torso with a wooden busk center front for posture support and to keep the figure once the dress went on. Next were pockets which you enjoyed stashing trinkets in to take to your secret affairs. After a hip pad was added, the outer layers could go on. A petticoat, a white neckerchief that was tucked into the front of the stay to protect your neck and chest from the sun, and the actual gown. As the off-white material was laced at the front you gazed down at the pattern on your long sleeves. Little blue flowers were speckled everywhere, and you lamented the season of falling, an autumn's blush in the trees and on your cheeks. Lastly was the silk apron to separate you from the workers of the household, and shoes with little silver buckles. All together the outfit was quite hardy, and you were able to slink away after lunch past the garden and through a narrow wood to a lake.

It was often as a child your siblings would swim during the sweltering summers there. It was well secluded from prying eyes and ears, but the waters were far too chilled that time of year. The stillness reflected the trees encompassing the grounds, and in the center, the purest blue called out for your heart to shine with it; luminescent and alluring. Letting your mind wander. It was in those moments that the voice that had been torturing your thoughts smiled behind you.

"Would I offend you, if I were to admit how long a time I've watched you?"

A grin stretched your lips, turning to see him approach. A hand was lowering the hat from his head, allowing the short, silken ebony locks to shine under the brightness of noon. The black and white suit he wore was proper, however devoid of accessories it was. And he had dained to switch the regular coat for something of thicker cloth and longer gait, the hem brushing his calves. It was a navy hue, highlighting the horrifically vivid and ethereal glow to his tawny complexion. Your heart could not be tamed at his approach just as the ocean would never cease to reach for the shore.

"Instead I would offer a warning," you replied. "For you shouldn't stare at the sun too long."

The hat was discarded, forgotten on the grass as saltwater embraced the sand and tarried. A wry smirk twisted his lips as his eyes focused on yours. Always intense and enchanting, and the light reflecting enhanced the color within, the sun swimming among his whiskey irises. Intent on getting you drunk.

"Then let beauty blind me and allow my last sight to be of everything that is precious. You are the sun and stars. You are the mountains, and the fields, and rivers and lakes. Always to be cherished. Never to be violated. Only to be loved...vigorously."

Words which you had never thought would ever leave a mouth as pretty as his, let alone become a bastion for fondness; his lips tender on your neck after his stark proclamation. Air became a rare commodity, catching in your throat. The bawdy action sent ripples of excitement through your body, and you clutched him closer. The indecentness would serve as a warning but for the sentiment in his heart.

Their families had made different matches for one another before the night you met; smarter matches they would tell. It only revealed their ignorance on the subject of affection. For if there was never a coupling such as yours for the next century, then not another couple would suffer as greatly in a century if you were parted.

The pressures of high society had been choking him and you. The birds, and the parties, and loquacious old women so sapped of their own vitality in their dull lives as to make interfering with others' their sole hobby. There never seemed to be a caring hand; someone who didn't only seek the ends. Get married; nevermind the adventure in courtship. Nevermind reveling in the company of a kind intellect. Nevermind celebrating the magnificence of life steeped in wonder while laying entwined in soul, spirit and body. Nevermind love.

He was of a mind to yearn for conversation and contented silence with a partner. To stroll away and earn peace and happiness without a crowd or extraneous clothes and property. You wished the same, and in the space between, your passions collided; coalescing into something greater. Being wanted solely and completely as yourselves, you may be able to break through that foul and ugly mist that had strangled you both.

"Shall I never tire of your winsome character," you elated.

A gust of wind dusted your cheeks with chill and fluttered your skirts. His mouth stole another taste of your skin before pulling back to greet your gaze once more, inadvertently shielding you from the cold. You were acquainted with a mien he intimated was rendered by you unwittingly; warm and soft with a smile that could raze even the strongest of wills.

"The days after our meeting," he said. "I spent walking through gardens hoping they would drive away the heavy thought of care, and perhaps it worked as such for I am here, with you now...without a care in my heart but for you." Your mouth opened, but his words carried on before you could reply. "Despite what our respective relatives might assume, this hasn't been some summer dalliance for me, and as I know I must return home before we are beset upon by winter, I know I would be leaving my heart here with it. Therefore, with all my soul and self bared vulnerable, I would disclose one more thought...nothing would make me happier than to escort you home alongside me as my betrothed."

"Is...this a proposal?"

"With an answer that is yours to give as you please."

The lake's reflection rippled under the wind. He lifted a hand to your face and it betrayed his calm; trembling as fingers fondled stray locks of hair and moved them aside. Tumultuous tenderness as his drunken eyes studied every heartbeat.

To leave all you knew to venture with all you wanted to know. Rational thoughts absconded from your mind. To pretend you required to rationalize this at all was folly. You knew the answer, and when your love collided with his in a kiss, he did too.

[carl-grimxz]

Confused Feelings

Carl Grimes x Reader

PART 1

Summary: You and Carl are friends but he suddenly starts to act strangely and withdrawn like he is avoiding you. The trouble is you can’t work out why. 

Word Count: 2,940

Warnings: None :)

A/N: I’ve never written one of these before... but I love Carl and miss him soooo much so felt like giving it a go. I’ll likely write a few parts to this so please enjoy!

The leaves had fallen and the air was cold. Freezing actually, much worse than it was yesterday by far. Strange that, how quickly winter seems to come. No matter how much Rick drills into us that we need to be prepared for the new conditions this season would bring us, I never do feel ready for it. Then again are we ever really prepared for anything these days? Doesn’t feel like it. 

Even though we spend hours huddled round discussing plans. Strategising. We always end up here. On the road with nothing but the desire to live carrying us forward from place to place. At least we are here though. Still breathing. Surviving together. The majority of us at least. That’s the main thing. That’s what I keep thinking to myself anyway. While I’m standing here, attempting to keep my hands somewhat warm in my coat pockets, I look down at my worn boots as they scuff the frosty fallen leaves across the gravelly road. The time has come again. We’re stood around, waiting for Rick to give us our next move. We’ve been heading North for the most part. I can’t exactly remember why. I’m sure the situation is just as bad up there, but I do trust Ricks judgement, so I don’t necessarily need to understand why. I tend to zone out during these conversations. Not on purpose. I just do. Probably because I’m never involved in the decision making part of it. 

A harsh gust of wind rushes past us. So bitterly cold that it actually makes me lose my breath for a second. At this point I glance up at Carl to see if he’s finding it as intense as I am. We make eye contact and his lips curl up into the faintest smile. So subtle I feel that if it were anyone else looking at him right now, I’m sure they wouldn’t even notice the smile that admittedly, is pretty microscopic, but is definitely there. His hands move to the outer edges of his oversized jacket and grips it tighter to his body, telling me he’s just as cold as I am. I feel almost relieved. Not that he’s cold but that it isn’t just me overreacting. Everyone in this group is so unfalteringly strong, except maybe Eugene, that sometimes it’s exhausting just trying to tough it out and keep pace with them. It’s moments like this that I’m thankful I have Carl. He seems to get it, I dunno. 

I look away and tune into the others conversation. Almost like she’s reading my mind, Maggie speaks up. “Rick we gotta get outta the open and find some shelter. It’s already pretty nippy and it’s gon get even colder the later it gets”. Everyone glances at Rick and he pauses for a moment. He brings the free hand that isn’t holding his daughter up and drags it across his face, scratching at his beard. He has his eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought and glances around at each of us clearly coming to a decision. He sighs, “Yah you’re right. We could all do with finding somewhere to rest up and get warm”.

“There was a place I saw. Bout a couple miles back, a barn I think. Found it when I was hunting earlier. Didn’t think it would be much use to us then, but it’d do for the night. Light a fire, warm up”. Daryl half grunted. Thank god. I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like to be warm.

“Did it look clear?”, Michonne asked.

“More or less. May be a couple walkers, nothin we can’t handle”.

With that we were off walking back the way we came. Along the path, a dense layer of trees either side and what seemed like never ending road straight on, as far as we could see. Rick said it wouldn’t take too long to get there. Less than an hour apparently, even in our weakened state. While we were walking I found myself in one of my daydreams. Just zoning out. Truthfully I was pretty down today, the past few days actually. I can’t put my finger on the exact cause. A mixture of things I suppose. Low on supplies, low on energy. I mean also it may be that Carl and I haven’t spoken much since a couple days ago. Everything was fine, or so I thought but then he went off to speak with Michonne and after that it’s honestly felt like he’s been avoiding me. I don’t know what they spoke about and it could just be me going crazy, but it’s definitely been strange ever since. I dunno, he’s a boy. The other day Rosita told me that boys think girls are crazy but that it’s really the other way round. That was right after she’d had an argument with Abraham cause he’d said something that upset her, can’t remember what. She was not happy though.

I was pulled away from my thoughts when I felt someone nudge my shoulder with there’s. It was Carl. Last I looked he was walking up front with his dad but I guess he dropped back for whatever reason. “Hey” I said, trying to sound like I was in a better mood than I actually was. 

“What’re you thinkin about?”

“Oh uh, nothing. Just tired you know?” A look of understanding washed over his face. “Yeah me to”, he sighed “But I guess we can rest soon. Eat those rabbits Daryl hunted earlier. Sit round the fire. Then all our problems will seem smaller”. He half smiled, eyes meeting mine, waiting for a response. I’m just now realising how blue they actually are. Like the ocean. Funny, I’ve never noticed that before. “That’s true”. I felt the corners of my mouth raising upwards slightly as I looked up at him. 

He was right. That’s why I liked Carl. He was usually right, but not in an annoying way. You can trust his thought process and judgement is all. I rely on him to make me think more rationally than perhaps I would if left to my own devices. I’m a pessimist to be truthful, but not so much with him around. Carl is my best friend actually. We’re all a family, but there’s something with Carl and I. I don’t know what it is. We just click. Maybe it’s got something to do with the fact that we’re the same age, so it’s like we’re really going through this together. You know, we’ve missed out on the exact same things that kids our age are supposed to experience. So there’s an unspoken link bringing us closer together, and we are close. All we have to do is look at each other and it’s like we’re speaking a thousand words. With one look. He gets it. To be honest, our main form of communication is a simple knowing glance these days. Ever since Terminus and everything that we’ve been through since, spirits have been extremely low within the whole group. In fact, peoples moods have been almost as big a problem as the lack of food. Our energy levels and the general lack of hope amongst us means we don’t really feel like doing much talking at the moment. That’s why I appreciate Carl. He’s just as low as the rest of us but somehow he manages to do a pretty decent job of getting past that and thinking forward. Even if he is acting weird recently.

A while of strangely uncomfortable silent walking later, and just like Daryl said, five minutes through the woods and we approached a barn. Lucky for us no walkers in sight. Although we’ve all come to understand that that doesn’t mean there aren’t any there at all. As we came up close to it I realised that the area surrounding the barn was actually quite pretty. It sat in the middle of a large opening in the woods, enclosed in a field of flowers. I don’t know what kind they were but the colours were mostly indigos and violets and were so beautiful that it was verging on emotional. Probably from lack of sleep more than anything else, but there are so few things of beauty left in this world now. I really needed to see something like this. I’m sure we were all thinking the same thing because every one of us was smiling. Grinning even, and that hasn’t happened in a long time. “So beautiful” Sasha beamed,

“Right?!” Rosita added “I hope it’s clear inside”.

“Let’s find out” Rick responded with his hands firmly on his gun. “Daryl, Abraham, Sasha, Rosita with me”.

The rest of us stayed put outside, on watch for walkers, letting the others do their thing. 

As I was scanning the tree line I caught Carl staring at me. That’s happened a lot lately. I’ll just so happen to glance at him and he’ll already be looking my way. He usually just pretends that he’s looking elsewhere and I let him believe that I don’t really notice, but I do. I was about to ask him what his deal was but decided not to bother when Rick and the others wandered back out of the barn. 

“All clear. Looks in good shape actually, we’ll be good here for the night”. Relief washed over me. I am actually exhausted. I really don’t think I could cope if we had to spend another night on the side of the road again. A few sighs of relief could be heard from us and in through the heavy wooden doors we all went. The size of this place is actually pretty impressive. Something I had missed initially due to being distracted by the flowers. Somehow I was reminded of the poppy scene in The Wizard of Oz.

As soon as we were inside, everyone got to settling in. Organising the little supplies we had, starting a small fire. That kind of thing. Daryl went straight on watch, looking through the small window on the left of the door. This place isn’t too bad. It’s large enough to fit us all in comfortably and there’s some hay in the far corner that it looks like we’ll be sleeping on. Glenn and Maggie were already setting down blankets and the odd sleeping bag over there. It didn’t take long for me to warm up slightly. Just being under shelter and not out in the wind made a lot better. Such a relief, I really do hate being cold. Rick and Carl attempting to get a fire going in the centre of the barn. I thought for a second. Should I go help? Maybe get to talk to Carl and work out why he’s acting funny. I think I will. I’ll play it cool though. 

I started walking over to them and Rick saw me coming almost immediately. We both exchanged smiles but then he nudged Carl to make him see me I guess, then left to go talk to Sasha. That’s weird. Carl looked up ever so quickly and then just carried on organising the fuel for the fire as if he didn’t even see me. “Need some help?” I asked as soon as I reached him to brake the tension that was between us all of a sudden.

“Nah, I’m good”, he mumbled, “But thanks though” he added, smiling as he looked up at me stood above him noticing that I had my eyebrows furrowed in a frown. “Ok…” I said slowly as I took a seat on the ground next to him, legs crossed. Carl said nothing, just stared at the tiny fire that his dad had just managed to start before he left. This is definitely odd now. He’s never been this quiet before. Not around me anyway. What is with him? “That was quick.” I uttered, referring to the fire “What?”, he asked, clearly confused. “The fire”, I explained, pointing to it, “You got it lit really fast. Impressive”. 

“Oh, thanks. Well it was dad actually. I didn’t really do anything”. I chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. It didn’t seem to work. He still just sat there staring at the slowly expanding fire. I’d had enough now. I had to know what was going on inside that head of his. “What’s up with you?”. It wasn’t nearly as assertive as I had meant it to come out. My voice was soft. I just wanted him to talk to me. His head flicked up. I had his attention. “What? Nothing” he grumbled at me. A lie. I could tell he was hiding something. “Don’t lie Carl. I know something’s wrong. You’ve been acting weird the past couple days”. He watched me as I spoke. He had a guilty look on his face like he knew what I was talking about. He stayed silent as I carried on, “Except for when we spoke for like two minutes on the walk over here, you’ve been avoiding me”. I looked to him for an explanation but still silence. Whatever. “Ok fine”, I’m getting annoyed now. I got up to leave, “I’ll just leave you alone alright? That’s clearly what you wa-“, “Wait” He murmered. I turned back towards him. He had his hand around my wrist but no sooner than I had noticed it was there, he’d taken it away again, almost shocked he grabbed it in the first place. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just feel weird. I dunno why. I just feel like stuff has changed”. He looked down again, almost ashamed. What is he talking about? “I don’t understand. What stuff?”. I really wanted to know. I stood there looking down at him.

“Ever since we had that run in with those walkers. You almost got bit. It scared me… and now it’s different” Carl sighed. 

“It scared me too”, I admitted. I was trying not to think about that to be honest. It was pretty frightening, I’m not gonna lie. I was millimetres away from having my neck torn open. “Hey Y/N!” Carol called across to me. Perfect timing… not. She likely wanted help preparing the food. I usually help her. I glanced over to her and then back at Carl who was studying me closely, probably hoping for me to say something more than what I had. “Speak later, ok?” I asked him hopefully.  

“Yeah sure”. It was almost a whisper.

I did a lot of thinking while Carol and I prepared the food. It was mostly quiet between us. Carol isn’t a massive talker, but I liked it that way sometimes. While I watched the squirrel get yacked apart ready to cook I over-analysed everything Carl had said to me. Replayed my near death experience with the walker over and over in my head. It was actually Carl that saved me. I had dropped my knife stupidly and was trying to hold the terrifying monster at arms length with both hands. Trying and failing. As it was seconds from ripping my neck open with it jaw when Carl sent a bullet straight through it’s skull. The walker dropped to the ground and I stepped away in shock, my eyes wide as I came to terms with what had nearly happened. Carl ran over from where he was, which wasn’t that far away to be fair and before I knew it his arms were around me. Engulfing me so tightly it was as if his life depended on it. I wondered if that was what Carl was talking about, now that I think of it. That’s the only time we’ve ever done that. Hugged. I didn’t think anything of it at the time but when we finally pulled apart after what felt like a lifetime, I looked into his eyes and I had seen something in them that I had never seen before. I can’t describe it. He just looked different. Scared. Really terrified. Not long after that was when we had managed to find somewhere to settle down and set up camp in amongst the trees, and Carl went off for that chat with Michonne. Carol brought my attention back to her with a smile. “Come on Y/N, let’s go serve up some squirrel!”.

We were all sat around the fire. There were a few conversations going on but it was pretty quiet. I was just observing everyone. I found myself watching Sasha who was chatting with Michonne over their bowls of squirrel and canned tomatoes. She must have felt me watching because she looked across at me and smiled, giving me a nod. I’ve always been super close to Sasha. She looks out for me and we get along well cause we have a lot of the same views on everything I think. She’s very straight to the point and thinks with her head. I admire her for that. Sasha has often told me if I ever need to talk to her about anything I can. She might just be able to help me work Carl out. Although I think I may need help working myself out as well. Ever since he brought up that walker encounter I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. About him. The fear and adrenaline must have caused me to block it out at first but the more I remember it, the more I understand Carl for acting oddly. Something about that hug and the look on his face has changed something. He was right. God damnit he’s always right. As soon as this food is done with, I’m heading straight to Sasha.

[chrysalispen]

lycoris (minor divergence AU, 5.0 spoilers)

in response to the prompt “what if Hythlodaeus had accepted the title of emet-selch, and the WoL instead met Hades?”

I wrote this in three days (mostly while heavily drugged LMAO) so it’s not.... my best work ever but I like it for what it is. Fic is beneath the cut.

=======================

Nestled within a seemingly fathomless expanse amidst the fringes of the western seas, the Tempest is not exactly what one would call a comforting locale. Its depths are rife with sailor's tales: stories of sirens and storms and ships called to their deaths, even in the days before the Flood brought deadlier creatures to Kholusia's shores.

For a creature like Emet-Selch, a man relegated to furthering his god's work within the myriad hidden places of the Source and its reflections for long years, it will do.

Of course, his choice of abode upon the First is not wholly based upon sentimentality. Sometimes he fancies he has all but forgotten what it is like for the touch of light not to sting his skin; he can bear it when he must but sees little point in deliberately exposing himself to discomfort.

Amber eyes track the rippling ribbons of refracted light that shimmer several fulms overhead, fingers of stark white softened into a glow by the water like knives dulled from use. It is just enough that the seafloor wherein he has rebuilt his most abiding memory does not lie completely shrouded in the darkness of the trench. By its dim illumination does Emet-Selch study the skyline he has built with the critical lens of a master sculptor, seeking any perceived flaws and carefully setting any misgivings aside. For better or worse, the die is cast and his choices made. This final act of creation: completed.

It wants now only for a single soul to darken its doorsteps.

~*~

She is glad to have parted ways with the others briefly, even for investigation's sake.

Although not inclined to lie by nature, she is nonetheless quite aware that her condition has deteriorated farther than any of the other Scions are like to have realized. The corona of light that had flickered at the periphery of her vision has all but overtaken her sight. Blinding white and gold accompanies the pain in her stiffening limbs which has been a constant companion since awakening in the Crystarium.

She pushes herself to a sitting position, then with a supreme act of will regains her feet. Her stance wobbles- perilously close to overcorrecting- but with time and care she is able to keep her balance, and in short order, the Warrior of Darkness finds herself once more stumbling down the vast and near-empty paved streets of an alien city: a city populated only with a single man’s memories of the dead. It is a lonely, lonely path. But that loneliness carries, in itself, a sort of bleak comfort.

Wandering up and down the paved streets of Amaurot’s neat, gridlike layout- or at least the bits that fit into the ocean trench with such suspicious seamlessness- she does not realize her feet have carried her off the beaten path until a bone-deep fatigue gives her cause to grip the cool metal of a fancifully wrought archway for support.

There is, to her surprise, still beauty to be found in this place upon further inspection. The public park she has stumbled upon is a welcome sight and a well-appointed affair at that. Mazes of green painstakingly curated and compelled into obeisance, framing the abstraction of metal sculpture. Flowers of every conceivable color, tall and comfortable-looking trees planted for shade as well as aesthetic.

For the first time since they had rounded the continental shelf and glimpsed the tall spires rising like bony fingers from the darkest depths of the ocean trench, the Warrior feels calm. Something about this place imparts a certain measure of serenity. There is a particular sort of love that has gone into its recreation, a love that is very nearly tangible.

And, somehow, also very familiar.

Fingers trailing through hawthorn and salvia- and a good dozen varieties of flowers her eyes have never seen, on the Source or elsewhere- she meanders in an aimless amble, plagued not only by the Light leaking into her vision but also the feeling that she is searching for something indefinable.

The massive tree in the center of the park brings her to a halt.

There is no other of its kind to be seen anywhere nearby. It stands aloof from the other greenery, silent and ancient and proud--its boughs bent, upon closer inspection, with the weight of many years--much like a certain Ascian of her acquaintance. The Warrior of Darkness finds herself drawn to it in a way that defies understanding.

Gently she reaches for the tree and places one palm upon its enormous trunk. Caresses the roughness of its bark with her fingertips--

-----Mortal agony warps its way through her bones and the sound of fracturing glass rings in her ears as the Light surges.

Biting back a cry of agony she convulses around it, crumpling to the ground, head in her twitching hands as the pain becomes her world. Amaurot fades, distant and unimportant, into her periphery, and upon her tongue, she tastes copper and ozone.

No no no no, not here, not now, not like this--

*I beg your pardon? That’s my tree.*

The resonant chime of the ancients’ tongue, edged with just the slightest hint of annoyance, pierces the cacophony of ravenous hunger and the spasms of her limbs so thoroughly that she… is distracted.

The pain fades and her vision, nearly white, is almost clear.

The figure is as indistinct as all the others -- tall, translucent, almost intimidating -- but something about this one is different. The other shades she has encountered acknowledged her only in the broadest of senses, treating her more as an interruption to the tasks they were set, rather like watching worker mammets forced to move aside an obstacle.

No, this shade seems more present than the others somehow. She can feel something more substantial behind the black holes of the mask peering down at her- something, that is, beyond initial surprise and a sort of mild, rather tolerant annoyance.

“It’s a very large tree,” she manages a weak smile and pats a bottom-sized dip in the root system at her side. “I think there should be plenty of room for both of us.”

The shade tilts its chin to one side, almost like a bird. She fancies she can feel the weight of a stare upon her, silently judging her appearance alongside her words-- but at length, it sits, albeit with abrupt movements that lack the artless grace she had observed among the other figures.

For a long time, they do not speak but simply accept each other’s company with varying degrees of amiability. The Warrior looks out upon the streets beyond the hedges and watches the blurred outlines of the city's shades going about what she can only assume would have once been their daily business, although a keen eye would note that there is not much change in their behavior over time. They are in a perpetual loop of the same discussions, the same paths, the same tasks, over and over.

At length, she hears the soft chiming once more, the words unfolding within her mind in the same instant. Terribly polite of Emet-Selch, she thinks with a hysterical sort of good humor, to at least provide a means of translating his people’s speech.

*So, you've come from out of time - apropos, all things considered. I don’t believe I’ve seen you before,* the shade muses. *...Not in this form, at least.*

The statement is as confusing as it is disarming.

“This… form?” she echoes, but her only answer is another question.

*You’ve come to see Emet-Selch, I take it?*

She tenses. That is all the answer that seems to be necessary.

*Ah.* With a noise that seems to translate as a laboring sigh, the shade’s cowled head comes to rest against the tree trunk. *Your timing is unfortunate. The city is deep in preparations to face the Doom. You’ll be lucky to see him before all is said and done.*

“So I’ve heard.” There is no change in what she can see of the giant’s expression, but she can sense that it was the expected response. “...If I may ask, how did you know I was here to see Emet-Selch?”

*Oh, come now, you needn’t worry about me,* the shade shrugs. *I’m not really here, you know. Well, I’m here but I’m not -present,- as it were. Nor are any of these others.*

“Are you... I mean, you’re not a spirit, are you?”

*Am I to assume you mean a wandering soul? Certainly not. We’re all just memories; naught of real substance, I’m afraid.* An amused titter as the shade stretches, catlike, before rolling its head towards her. *This is an Amaurot upon which the Doom has yet to descend- if it ever does.*

She leans forward and wraps her arms about her knees, hugging them to her chest. The only person - so to speak - in the entire city that actually seems capable of a real conversation and she has no real idea what to ask.

Might as well start with the pleasantries. “What’s your name?”

The black sockets of the mask seem to bore through her flesh and straight into her soul, and although it should make no difference she feels strangely exposed. *...Asking the important questions at last, are we? You can call me Hades. Don’t bother asking any of these others; they’d not be able to give an answer at all.*

“None of the others can really talk about anything beyond superficial matters,” she agreed. “Though I’m curious as to what makes you different. You certainly look the same as they do.”

*Knowing Emet-Selch, he likely had me on the mind while he was creating this overwrought simulacrum of his.* One large hand lifts in a lazy, flippant, and startlingly familiar wave before tucking itself behind Hades’ head. *He always was tediously sentimental. Although I suppose I should be flattered.*

“I’m not sure I follow.”

*Doubtless he thought I would see through the illusion--my sight pales in comparison to his, mind you. But he would know that. We were good friends once, he and I.* A familiar, rueful half-smile tilts the shade's lips. *Although I am no less ephemeral than anything else he’s summoned from his memory. I assume he told you what happened?*

“After a fashion, yes.” She plucks at a blade of grass. “He spoke of a calamity, and how the brightest of his number - yours, that is - came together to summon Zodiark.”

*Not the most accurate summary, in truth, but I suppose it will suffice,* Hades sniffs.

The Warrior listens, with all of the patience for which she is so famous upon the Source, as he speaks. The burning pain of the Light is almost nonexistent in this odd man's presence, and that alone is sweet comfort.

Emet-Selch must have thought highly of this Hades. He is wholly unlike the kind and gentle giants seeming content to drift through empty streets, unaware of the fate that awaits them; he recounts the Ascian’s lecture with an air that could be generously termed sardonic: brusque and laden with quipped observations about how ‘tiresome’ the other man could be, yet in a way that makes obvious their long years of acquaintance. Affection lies just beneath his exasperation, and she finds herself warming to Hades quickly, sour as he seems.

He is blunt-tongued and eccentric, but still kind in his way. She cannot help but like him.

*Needless to say, there were those who didn’t take kindly to the suggestion that we ought to continue sacrificing souls to Zodiark’s appetites, and felt that we ought to make our peace with the new lives we’d created. They summoned Hydaelyn to counter Him. So for the first time in anyone’s memory, we were divided on our course of action---*

“And you fought,” she says, sadly. Sorrow burns in her breast for this man and his fellows, a gentle people who had never known strife if Emet-Selch were to be believed. “He told me.”

*Then you know how it ends.* Hades’ smile fades, and though she half-expects another testy remark, there is none forthcoming. The shade's head shakes slowly, side to side. *So he continues to labor in Zodiark’s name, then.*

“Not for any lack of attempts to thwart him, I assure you.”

*Don't apologize. I should hardly expect otherwise. He’s an obstinate ass,* Hades says flatly, *and that’s only one of his many flaws. Though I imagine it serves him well in this regard-- if none other.*

Despite herself, she laughs.

“I would say it doesn’t even begin to describe him. You can’t imagine-- well, no, I guess you can if you knew him well. Although…”

*Although...?*

She stares at her hands, only able to see a blinding white outline, and does not answer. She does not trust herself to answer.

Sometimes I see a glimpse of a kinder, gentler man, beneath it all. And now- now I find myself mourning the loss of a person I never knew.

If he senses her hesitation, he gives no outward indication of it.

*I’m sure he still intends to carry out his plan.* His eyes might be hidden in the depths of that mask, but she doesn’t need to see them. There is a certain degree of sorrow in his words, blunt as they are. *Mind you, he can commit all manner of cruelties when it suits him to do so now, but he was very different once. Friendly. Compassionate. Very willing to admit his mistakes and seek counsel where warranted. He would take the burdens of other souls upon his own shoulders without a second thought if he felt his aid necessary. Occasionally I found him infuriating, but always he had the purest of intentions.* Each word falls upon her ears with a heavier weight. Hades sighs. *This is a terrible burden he has chosen for himself, make no mistake- and it is all the worse for knowing his temperament is so ill-suited to carry it.*

The quality of the filtered light through the water has changed - the color, the angle, albeit only slightly. It is one of the few ways anyone has in Norvrandt of tracking the time. Evening has fallen.

As if realizing it himself, Hades seems to stir from a sort of reverie, as though their chat is a dream and she is the shade.

*It’s starting to get very late, you know,* he says, rather briskly. *Shouldn’t you be off to get your permit? I’m certain he’s waiting on you.*

“I… yes. Yes, of course.”

Slowly and carefully the Warrior stands, bracing her weight against the tree. It is a nigh-herculean effort to regain her footing; she is desperate to lie down somewhere and try to sleep, but sleep despite her exhausted state has brought neither rest nor peace. The Light lurks just beneath her mortal shell, a predator waiting for its prey to falter.

Time is shorter than she had hoped it would be.

Still, she smiles.

“Thank you for speaking with me, Hades.”

That impatient flip of a wave again, and now she is quite certain she has seen Emet-Selch make that precise gesture a time or two. *If answering your questions assures me a peaceful nap, count me happy to oblige.*

She has almost made it on her slow, staggering feet to the hedgerow when Hades’ voice chimes once more at her back.

*Before you go---there is one more thing. One… minor thing.*

The sadness underscoring his words gives her pause. She turns around.

Hades is not lazing beneath the tree with his back propped against its trunk as she had left him. He too is standing. The giant's gait lists to one side beneath the heavy boughs, and he seems to be looking at something beyond her.

*Who... is that standing next to you?*

She blinks. A glance backwards and to her left shows Ardbert, watching but still keeping a discreet and carefully polite distance, waiting for her to finish her rest and catch up with him. “I... that’s...”

*...Never mind. I suppose it hardly matters, does it? ‘Tis a soul, if a faint impression of one--and the same shade as your own.* That birdlike tilt of the chin. *The color of it… I would know it anywhere. And so, I imagine, would he.*

Her gaze sharpens. The note of longing in the shade’s voice is unmistakable.

*Well, don’t let me keep you.*

His arms fold into the sleeves of his robe, and there is something soft there in the slackened bow of his lips, something that makes her breath catch. They curve upwards, in the faintest and most self-deprecating of smiles. It is the expression of a man that has any number of things to say, and no time to say them.

In the end, he says nothing, and the moment passes. She turns away.

She is met with Ardbert’s stare of open confusion upon reaching the elaborate masonry of the park walkway. “Who were you talking to?”

“Oh, I--”

There is nothing and no one under the tree. It stands a lone sentinel in the center of its clearing just as before, quiet and undisturbed.

The Warrior of Darkness exhales.

“Just an old friend,” she says.

[padfootagain]

A Crimson Christmas (I)

Chapter 1: Saint-Malo

Here I am with a brand new series for my winter event 2019! I am answering the fake dating trope for Steve Rogers :)

Get ready to dive in some mystery for the holidays ;) It's not gonna be just fluff… although there will be some fluff, no worries!

Oh, and… canon? I don't know her.

I'm also very excited with this one, because I've decided to set the story in France, in one of my favourite places, that is not so far from my hometown. So I'm having extra fun with it :)

I hope you all like it!

Gif not mine

Word Count : 4086

There is a mystery in this story.

Or, actually, there are three mysteries tied up together in the events that will unfold here.

The first, and probably the most cryptic of all, concerns the circumstances of the death of a gentleman named Jean Le Kennec.

The second, and probably the most devastating of all, has to deal with the delivery of a package on Christmas Eve.

The third, and probably the most important of all, is to link with a man and a woman spending Christmas together because of a lie.

In order to describe the story as well as it deserves to be told, one should get a pretty accurate image of the city where the events will unfold, for the place itself is like a character in this tale. To do that, one should picture France first. Get as far west as you can on this tiny hexagon, then make your way North to the beautiful region of Brittany.

Landscapes as beautiful and wild as the ocean the land dives into, this part of France is one of the most interesting places you can go to in this country. Because of the magic of the landscapes, yes, but also because of the mystical atmosphere that hovers over the land. Houses of stones batted by the raging salty wind and heavy rains, boats of wood cracking through angry storms, and a past filled with druids, fairies and magic. The Celtic culture goes on there through the peculiar tongue still used by some, typical of this region, but also through the legends of disappeared ships, pirates and lost treasures, and Merlin and fairies in the Broceliande forest, of a king and a sword in a stone wandering there, and menhirs rising through fields to praise estranged gods.

In a word, this place is perfect for the kind of mystery this story will describe.

Concerning the inhabitants of this region, one would give a fairly accurate description of their character with ‘pig-headed but loyal’. Stubbornness is a common trait, and most might describe the people of Brittany as reluctant to change and foreigners, which might make them seem a little cold. But once you’ve earned their trust, there are no more loyal and generous people than them… in France at least.

Two more things need to be known about this local eccentric people, and they have to do with food. A 'galette' is a salty preparation, specialty of this part of France. It is basically like a salty version of a pancake made with a different kind of flour and filled, most of the time, with ham, cheese and an egg. They are not to be mistaken with 'crêpes', the dessert of the traditional meal. It is often filled with butter, or sugar, or chocolate, or salty caramel. Both have this similar form of a large and thin pancake, but the crêpes are sweet, and the two courses are made with very different recipes and flours. And Brittany people are a tiny bit touchy about the difference. Someone mistaking the two would have without a doubt once been thrown into a dungeon. Today, it is met with a tired sigh, and an explanation of the difference presented with a tone that truly means to tell 'if you make that mistake again, I will kidnap you in the middle of the night and throw you into the ocean during the next storm’.

The second element of food you need to know if you want to survive amongst this people is salty butter. Do not attempt to use sweet butter. The inhabitants will judge you and will think that, here again, the place where you belong is located closer to the bottom of the ocean than amongst them if you try. It is properly an insult to their entire culture.

Now that the people of Brittany have been introduced, let’s focus closer to where our story will take place. In Brittany, go all the way North until you hit the ocean, and a tiny bit to the East. You will find a tiny dot on the map there that indicates Saint-Malo.

The town stretches nowadays from the sea to further in the land, all the way along the beaches of brown sand. But this story takes place in the oldest part of town, around the castle.

Built on the edge of the sea, the castle is now the home of the city hall. All around it and a number of buildings, tall walls were erected to fight both the wild storms that strike the shores in winter, and enemy invaders.

Most of this part of town was rebuilt after the second world war, most of its buildings being destroyed by bombings and a large fire that tore to the ground up to 80% of the medieval houses that once stood there. The economic development of the town throughout the XVII and XVIIIth century, through the activities of the harbour, also led to some radical changes in the architecture of the town during that time. This was when the tall walls surrounded the city were built. The reconstruction of the destroyed town went on after the second world war to match in spirit the buildings that remained and yet expand the size of the streets to match the new needs that arose at this period. Which led to identical buildings filling up all the space, at the exception of the churches, the cathedral, the castle and the courthouse, along with the few houses that were still standing. All buildings have this rectangular, almost military stern look, but the use of this peculiar kind of stone to build them entirely, brownish-greyish shade of granite, gives the assemble charms that many tourists now adore.

If one of these tourists climbs up the steep and quite slippery staircases leading up to the walls, they will be able to notice, through the holes that once were meant for canons, that danger is never far in these parts. The large black rocks that crawl out of the foam and the waves are deadly for reckless vessels. The ocean is often violent, and large wooden trunks were planted all along the seaside in order to break the wrath of the waves before they would hit the carved stones of the wall. Many lighthouses colour the horizon in an attempt to clear a path for the sailors, and strongholds were built on large rocks and tiny islands off the shores of Saint-Malo to defend what was once a citadel and one of the busiest harbours in France. Most of these fortifications are unreachable at high tide, even today, and if someone was to find themselves stuck by the tide, they would find no way to reach the town again.

But through these rough elements, the beauty of the town is found as well.

Let’s focus further on, and we can begin our story by studying the tall blond man sitting up there, in a corner of a crêperie set against the inner wall of the old town, his galette gone and his empty plate waiting for a waiter to come and carry it away. The restaurant was decorated with taste, walls white and dark blue, meeting the shades of the ocean. The tiny tables were packed together to allow as many customers in as possible, and this American, who was distractingly looking out the window, seemed too big for the furniture. He had let his beanie and warm scarf on the table next to his plate, his warm coat set on his chair. It was raining outside, which was to be expected for this region, and even more so two days before Christmas. After all, the season of storms had begun.

He almost jumped when you came back from the ladies’ room to sit across him again.

"It won’t get any better before Christmas, you’d better get used to the weather," you told Steve with an amused smile, following his gaze to the street outside, where the rain was pouring, the wind so strong that the droplets fell at a weird angle.

"How did you convince me to spend Christmas here again?" Steve asked with a chuckle.

"I begged you. That’s how. And I promised that I’d owe you one.

"Hmm, yes, I remember now."

"At least, this isn't a real storm! We can still go wherever we please."

"I don't want to know more about these storms just yet."

"I didn't picture you as a man who would like to spend Christmas on a beach with sun and cocktails. I pictured you more… well, like you are now! Wearing a warm beige sweater and enjoying the cold of December."

"I can't believe I've refused that invitation from Sam and Bucky to go to Hawaii…" Steve shook his head and heaved a tired sigh, which only made you laugh.

"You're retired now! You have all the time you want to go drink cocktails under the sun!" you replied with a playful tone. "Besides, you would go crazy there. Doing nothing… that's not exactly you, is it?"

"Hiking there would have been great," he fought back, but he knew you were quite right, he fitted better in this cold weather than on a tropical beach. But he just loved bickering with you.

"But instead you helped a friend in need," you grinned.

"I still can't believe I'm doing this either," he shook his head again.

"Alright, so… let's say it all one more time. We've been together for a year, our first date was…" you left your lie for him to finish, checking if he had memorized everything.

"In New York, in Central Park, we went ice-skating," he answered with a tired voice that didn't match the amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Right! And now…"

"We're thinking about moving in together in New York, but we still need to discuss it."

"Have we thought of a part of town where we'd settle yet?"

"Not really, nothing is decided, it's a mere project for now."

"My mom will probably give you tons and tons of ideas for decorating an apartment, or places where we could live. Just… go along with it, okay?"

"Okay."

"They'll ask about the working together thingy, and both of us risking our lives as Avengers."

"Our relationship was never a problem in our work, as we can separate the two, and we are now both retired, so all is fine."

"I think you're ready, Mr. Rogers! Welcome to the Y/L/N family!"

"I wish I could say that it's a pleasure, but this whole business is utterly ridiculous."

"It's not! I won't survive another Christmas holiday with my parents trying to find me a boyfriend at all cost. Thank you for doing this, you're literally saving my life."

"I'm sure it's not as bad as you make it sound."

"Oh, no. It's worse!"

Steve let out a chuckle, the sound making you smile. After all, Steve's persona often oozed a saddened, melancholic aura. Most of his smiles and laughter didn't reach his eyes. These moments when you managed to bring real joy or amusement to his features were worth treasuring, and you always did so.

"And… I might have forgotten to warn you about something, but… hmm…" you slowly stuttered, suddenly choosing your words carefully and dropping your light tone for a more worried one. "My family might still hold a tiny little grudge against you… because of the whole… running-away-from-the-law-and-being-a-fugitive incident."

Steve's reaction was merely to place his face into his palm and heave a deep sigh.

"Sorry…" you whispered tentatively. "But it was a long time ago, I'm sure you'll do fine!"

"I hate you," was all he answered, his voice shushed by his hand.

"Of course, you don't. I'm your fellow retired super-hero! We should form a club for it or something… Call Tony, I'm sure he'd join!"

"You're babbling, and it won't make me forget the mess you've dragged me into."

"We've been through worse." You gave him a genuine smile, and the sight acted like a ray of warm sun touching cool skin. He could never be truly angry against you, detail that he found terribly annoying about you. His muscles instantly relaxed, and your smile carried the same message he always read on your lips then.

Everything would be alright.

You and Steve had been friends ever since that first mission against Loki with the Avengers. Of these new heroes, you and Steve had grown to be inseparable. Sharing ideals and your two moral compasses pointing in the same direction, your differences in personality were the greatest strength of the team the two of you made. You had helped him getting used to a new millennium, and he had been a strong support as you lived away from your family for years. You often thought that you had met each other at the best time, right when you both needed a friend the most. Maybe that was why the two of you had grown so close. Throughout this entire Avengers adventure, you had never let the other down, and none of you intended to act any different now that the two of you had helped defeating Thanos and owned a well-deserved retirement from the Avengers.

The future was a little blurry now. What to do with your life after spending years fighting?

You had decided to push the issue away for the holidays. For now, your family gave you enough of a headache without adding the big questions about your future.

"But I have to admit, that we have been through worse," Steve nodded.

"Like Singapore."

Steve rolled his eyes.

"I can't believe you're still bringing this up…"

"I broke my leg to save you! Because you were too dumb to guess that jumping off a building was not a good idea."

"I would have been just fine."

"You would have crushed your skull on the pavement. Do you have any idea of the amount of paperwork the whole team would have had to fill up if Captain America was turned into jelly like that? The answer is: an awful lot. I had to save you."

A tender smile grew over Steve's features. He had learnt to recognize that teasing tone of yours. He had grown into finding it rather cute. Sometimes, you hid your strongest concerns behind jokes. He accepted the boundaries around your heart, he had built tall walls around his too, after all.

"I'm pretty sure the paperwork will be worse if your parents are responsible for my murder," he replied.

"They won't be! They're adorable. And they're going to adore my fake boyfriend!"

You and Steve exchanged a smile.

"You can add that to your resume when you decide to look for work again: 'experience as a convincing fake boyfriend'. Might open some doors for you in the theatre business."

He couldn't refrain a laugh.

"Thank you for making such efforts to find me a job."

"You're welcome. Writing simply: 'ex-superhero, multiple experiences in saving the world against intergalactic threats' just ain't enough to find anything decent these days."

"You haven't told me what you've decided to do now."

"Because I don't know what to do. But I'll find out."

Another warm smile was exchanged, Steve's reaching the corner of his eyes but something sadder was still hidden in his blue irises. It was okay though, you would do better at making him smile next time.

You were interrupted by the waiter coming to take your plates and offer you the cards for dessert. It didn't matter though. For now, Steve was by your side, you reckoned it was all you needed to be okay.

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

 "Okay, it's gonna be fine, just relax."

"I am relaxed. You're the one who's panicking."

"I am not."

"You are."

"Oh, shut up."

Your walk from the restaurant to your family's house was short, a mere few minutes. Your family had owned a house in the old town for generations, your grandmother liked to tell you the story of how one of your ancestors used to be a corsair. Some in your family had been fishermen or in the military as well, although these traditions had waned and your parents were now a nurse and a teacher. Which your grandmother laughed at profusely, as she had been working at the docks herself and found it funny to call them both traitors.

Your family owned a large apartment in a building close to the cathedral. The building itself had been rebuilt after the second world war, but the large family had made sure to get an apartment large enough for them all. Your corsair ancestor had brought fortune to your family, buying a large house at the time. If the apartment was nothing compared to the historical house, it was still enough for your large family to fit in. Your grandmother still lived there, and the rest of your relatives had been dispatched through the more modern parts of town, or some, just like you, had left the town to build a life elsewhere.

But the traditional Christmas and New Year celebrations were always set in the ancestral flat. This year, the Christmas dinner would include your grandmother, your parents, your sister and her wife, your brother and his wife along with their two children, one of your aunts and one of your uncles, along with you and Steve, of course. As you had pointed to Steve, you weren't so many this year – considering your grandmothers many brothers and sisters who sometimes were invited as well - and at the exception of your aunt and sister, all were living near or in Saint-Malo. Which was why you and Steve had a room waiting for you in the apartment. You had proposed to go to a hotel, but your grandmother had sounded so offended on the phone that you had to give it up. So, Steve and you would sleep in the same room…

Despite the journey to the building being short, the rain was falling heavily on the town still, and you were both drenched when you reached the stern home. Your suitcase made loud banging noises as you climbed up the streets, the wheels banging into the cobblestones. Steve was carrying a large army bag on his shoulder instead, his beanie glimmering with raindrops.

"I swear, if she's not home yet, I will murder someone," you mumbled under your breath as you rang at the door.

"We could use the time to visit," Steve replied, looking around him.

You raised a hand and put on a tired expression.

"I am jetlagged, I am soaked wet, I am cold, I am exhausted, I am stressed out. I need a warm coffee and some gingerbread, not an adventure under the freezing rain. We'll visit tomorrow, it's a promise. Right now, I just want to get warm and dry."

"We've just eaten, and you want gingerbread?" was all Steve found to answer, but he was terrible at hiding how amused he was.

"You're saying that because you've never tried my grandmother's gingerbread. It's a secret recipe, even I can't know it. She says it will be given to us at the reading of her will."

But the door opened and you could find shelter inside.

You used the old irony lift to climb up to the third floor, and went straight for the door on the left. Your grandmother was faster though, already opening the door for you to enter.

"Oh, Y/N! Je suis contente de te voir!" she held you in her arms tightly enough to make you worry about your ribs.

"Moi aussi, mamie," you smiled and hugged her as well, before turning to Steve, who was waiting on the threshold. "This is Steve. Steve, this is Martine, my grandmother."

"It's very nice to meet you, ma'am," Steve offered her his open hand, but she disregarded it entirely, and she hugged him and gave him the traditional two kisses on each cheek instead.

"Oh, none of that 'madame' nonsense!" she admonished with a laugh and a heavy French accent. "Martine is enough!"

She took a moment to study Steve a little more through her thick glasses, and gave you a knowing look.

"Pas mal, ma p'tite! Pas mal du tout!"

You gave her a desperate look, but Steve merely laughed.

"Do you speak French?" your grandmother inquired, although you thought she ought to have asked before dropping her 'not bad, kiddo! Not bad at all!' at the sight of Steve and shaming you all the way to the next century.

"Un peu," Steve shrugged. "I learnt a little during the war."

"He's fluent," you rolled your eyes at his modesty.

"Oh yes! You were turned into a… oh, how do you say 'glaçon' in English…? Icecube! Yes! Y/N mentioned that! But come in, come in! Oh, you poor things, you're all wet. Sacré pluie! It keeps on raining here in winter."

"Mamie, it rains all year long here," you joked, owning a gentle slap on your arm.

"Chut! I've prepared the second bedroom for the two of you. Get dry, I'll make you some coffee. Un café guérit tout! That's what my father used to say: a coffee heals everything."

You dropped your bags into the room, unsurprisingly discovering only one bed in the room decorated in an old-fashioned way. You took a moment to both change into dry clothes, before joining your grandmother in the living room again. You sat in the sofa while she brought you some coffee.

"Here, all hot! How was your plane?" she asked.

"The flight went well," you answered with a smile. "No trouble."

"And the trains? You arrived in Paris, right?"

"Yeah, that part was a bit of a mess."

"Ha, strikes again," your grandmother nodded. "Ought to keep the politics on their heels."

You and Steve both giggled.

"On their toes, mamie, not their heels."

"Same thing. Has to do with their feet anyway."

"When is everyone arriving?" you asked her, sipping on your warm beverage.

"Tonight, so we can all meet Steve!" she answered with a large smile towards your fake boyfriend.

"Where's Bouton?" you inquired, looking around through the old furniture that smelled like soap, salt and foam.

"Off somewhere. Bouton is our cat," your grandmother explained. "He comes and goes as he pleases, but he loves Y/N a lot. He used to follow her everywhere whenever she came."

"I heard about monsieur Le Kennec too," you said with earnest sadness. "I was sorry to hear about his passing. He was our neighbour downstairs," you explained for Steve. "He always had crazy legends and stories to tell when I was a child. Did you go to his funerals, mamie?"

"Yes. Sad thing. The funerals were yesterday. Fell down the stairs, apparently. He was an old man, after all. Still, he was in such a good shape for his age! I would never had imagined he could die like this."

"A shame. He was very nice."

"And a little crazy. But that's why we loved him. I'll miss him."

"Me too. But, how are you? How's your knee?" you asked, but the old lady brushed your question away.

"Bien, bien! I'm fine! I'm not the interesting one here! So, tell me everything! How did you start dating? Are you happy? When is the weeding?"

"Mamie!" you stopped her, but she merely laughed.

"Just a joke! But I still want to know everything! And more about you, Steve! We have the afternoon to talk, I want to know everything. After all, you'll have to face my son-in-law tonight, and he's very… protecteur?"

"Protective," you corrected. "Yeah… kind of."

"Y/N failed to mention that," Steve gave you a look, but you merely shrugged in silence.

An alarm dinged in the kitchen, and your grandmother hurried to get the cake she was baking. Meanwhile, as your grandmother refused your or Steve's help, your fake boyfriend turned to you.

"So, your father is going to murder me?"

"Possibly…" you answered, your head in your coffee.

He heaved a sigh.

"Nice…"

First, he had to face your grandmother, who seemed to be very nice, but still, the questions would be many, it was obvious. And he had never been of the talkative kind. Lying the whole afternoon promised to be a challenge he would have rather not defied.

How would the evening with your family unfold? That was another level of challenge entirely…

 ***************************************

Tag list : @ponycake27​ @horsesreign​ @xinyourdreamsx​ @jbluevelvet​ @notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss​ @stuckupstucky​ @snek-shit​ @suchatinyinfinity​ @i-padfootblack-things​  @buckybsarmy​ @heyohheyitsgabi​@jigsawlover10 @emyyjemyy​ @addictedtofictionalcharacters​

 @rishlo @theshortegg @madamrogers​ @marvelcapsicle​ 

[mai-takeda]

MEET THE CHARACTER: Mai Takeda

► Name ➔   "Mai Takeda"

► Are you single ➔ “Yes if meaning am I married. I am dating Vylette now though and, well, it seems like saying we are dating isn’t even close to strong enough for what we feel and what we are to each other soooo, umm, yeah. I am no where near on the market!“ Mai flushes slightly while answering, a beaming smile coming to her lips.

► Are you happy ➔   “Things have been, well, difficult? I mean in the recent past! But I am VERY happy now! Err, did that even make sense? I just, well, went through some things. I was abandoned again, went on a great voyage and got cut where I bled heavily, having issues wanting to pick up my katana again with the nightmares about those I have slain, then I am ecstatic again because I met Vy and fell in love and, err, am I rambling? It feels like I am rambling? I am probably rambling. Well, I am DEFINITELY rambling now huh? Sorry! I get that way.”

► Are you angry? ➔   “No. I, well, I have moments of frustration when those I care about turn their back and leave me behind but never angry. I think the last person I was angry at was myself actually.”

► Are your parents still married ➔  Pauses a moment with her smile faltering. Finally, she speaks in a small voice. “Th-They are married in the heart and spirit. My father is no longer here but their love and their marriage held day after day. They showed me what love could be for me one day.”

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ “I was born in Ul'dah after my family fled Doma and found a caravan that got them to the merchant city. It’s an interesting city one must admit but it is the one I have known all my life.” 

► Hair Color ➔ “Red.” 

► Eye Color ➔ “Pale gold with black limral rings.” 

► Birthday ➔ “10th Sun Day of the Sixth Umbral Moon so had a birthday recently!”

► Mood ➔ “Oh wow. Interesting inquiry there. If I must choose one I will say determined. I’m rather focused on some things and a certain individual going on right now.” 

► Gender ➔ “Female.”

► Summer or winter ➔ “Summer.” 

► Morning or afternoon ➔ "Morning because it means a new day to capture new memories, experiences and to be with those who you hold closes to your heart.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ “YES!” Mai blinks at her own outburst, blushes and smooths the lines in her dress.”Umm, I mean yes. I am in love currently. It’s a feeling I would wish on anyone and everyone. That happiness she births in my heart I will never take for granted and always treasure.”

► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “I don’t know about at first sight because that is only the physical. What about the person’s spirit? What about the make of their heart? You can’t know those ONLY from sight. I do believe you can find a pull to someone upon seeing them that is more than you experienced before.”

► Who ended your last relationship ➔ “No one? I mean, well, I never saw her again. She probably traveled on a hunt or something, I’m not sure, and I never saw or heard from her again. I hope Kami has helped her find peace in her spirit and happiness in her heart. Then again she would probably be happier with gold in her purse and bodies beneath her axe!”

► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔  “I highly doubt it. I’m just Mai.”

► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ “By Kami no.“

► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “Do dogs count?” Mai gives a short laugh but nods her head. "Yes, I have hugged someone other than my puppy in the last week. It’s a simple contact but one that can mean so much. Vy and I hug quite a lot. If we don’t then we have probably been body snatched! That’s one way to find out if we are who we say we are. Remember that!”

► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ “Erm, well, if they are secret how would I know? But no. I have never had an admirer of any sort.“

► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ “Y-Yes. I did when I walked away from a previous partner so she couldn’t see the tears my own words caused me.”

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ “Love. In so many words, in so many ways….love. I think love would enhance the pleasure of lust. To know the one you with loves you and that you love them. That you long for their touch in way no one else can imagine to compare. In a way your brain cannot comprehend but your soul? Your heart? Your spirit? They know. They know what that touch means. They know what that person means!“ 

► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ “Iced tea though both are great on a hot day.”

► Cats or Dogs ➔ Mai grins wickedly, looks around, and then whispers in a conspiring manner, “Cats.” Suddenly a loud barking sound can be heard from another part of the house and Mai bursts into laughter. “Both are wonderful but if I answer anything but dogs and my puppy Kari will hide my shoes from me! If Kenta was her he’d just chew my shoes up and look at me like ‘You deserved that!’”

► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “I, well, I don’t have many friends. I’m making some now I believe. I, well, only one I have really other than Vy is probably Kimi and I haven’t seen her in so many suns passed. I…i don’t know about that. Time will tell. But I think I would take a few best friends.” 

► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “Oh that definitely depends on the definition of a wild night. But on general purposes I am going romantic! Candles, rose petals, dancing by the ocean, anything! I just absolutely LOVE romance. Wild nights have their place too! We have to enjoy ourselves right?” 

► Day or night ➔ "Oh that’s a tough one! Day you have the light of the sun and the world is seemingly alive before you. But at night there are the stars and the moon shining down upon you and a sense of tranquility. Both? Am I cheating? Okay, okay, I’ll go with day then.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ "Never snuck out. Have you seen my mother with a katana?”

► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “No comment!“ Absently reaches down and rubs her backside.

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ “Yes..in different ways. I, well, I have times I want to just hear my father call me his little lily again that it makes me feel empty inside. Like something is missing. And then there is the moment like I had the other evening but that’s all I’m going to say about that one. Wait, have you ever seen the most moist chocolately chocolate cake and want it so bad your teeth ached? Add that too!” 

“Lately I find myself aching to say I love you so much that it hurts and sometimes I wonder am I saying it too much? I-I don’t know. I feel it that strongly. Or the need to kiss my Vy that I take her face in my hands and pull her to me and, erm, is it getting hot in here? Can you open a window?”

► Wanted to disappear ➔ “No. Never. I have spent enough time feeling like I am not being seen. I rather be up front and present. I want to live and experience what it means to open your eyes every day. To see the world, to explore and have my own adventures. To love and be loved. So no. Never disappearing.“  

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ "Oh that’s tough! I don’t care what you say. I’m cheating and saying both!”

► Shorter or Taller ➔ “Erm, huh? Oh do I prefer to be taller? Only when reaching for a book on the top shelf! Or do you mean in a partner? That hardly matters to me at all!” 

► Intelligence or Attraction ➔  “Meaning intelligence or physical attraction? Why not both? One does not need to be a scholar to be a beautiful person. One does not need to a picture of physical beauty to be a keen mind….wait…does that even make sense? It did in my head.” 

► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ “Relationship. I rather give my time to someone that I will see the next day. Someone that will want to see me the next day. A person that makes my heart yearn and makes my mind wander onto them when they are away. A, erm, hookup wouldn’t do that. It would be a blink and the moment is over.”

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ “Only have my mother and adopted sister. Well, adopted not in some official stance but that we just made her family. B-But she left to do something she felt I could not accompany her to do. She bought me a house and said she will return so yes…we get along and my mother means the world to me. Family means a lot.” 

► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ "No. I have a life. Are there falls in it? Of course. That is what makes life what it is. But then it comes down to the fact are you going to let those moments you fall define you or are you going to get up on your feet, look life right in the eye and challenge it to stop you from being all that you desire and that you are meant to be. So I don’t have a messed up life. I have a life and I’m going to live it.” 

► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ “Have you ever seen my mother run and her katana?”

► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ “Again, mother, katana, swinging steel, me, bleed, pain, breathing. Put it all together and the answer is definitely no!“

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “I don’t really have a lot of friends like I said before. Even so, why would I hate my friends? That would mean they aren’t my friends and I would also wonder what is wrong with me to feel such a way about someone yet try to label them my friend.”

► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ "The ones I consider a friend are good ones because that is what makes them my friend. They care about me and know that I care about them. We’re comfortable around each other and trust in each other.”

► Who is your best friend ➔ “Does a book count? Chocolate cake maybe? Oh what about a nice tea cup since I kiss it often when I drink tea from it!” Giggles at her own joke. “I have Master Kaelivh and his twin Asande, Nattai and Kimi is a friend and of course Vylette is my best friend now though. I think it’s important to be friends with the one you love. I met this wonderful friend of Vy’s named Ivy! There’s Synaia, who I consider to be like a sister, but I have not seen or heard from her in many suns which is having grow more and more worried.”

► Who knows everything about you ➔ “Mama is the only one but something tells me that’s going to be changing soon the more I am with Vy.”

Okay this is an OLD prompt that I had to re-touch for current times since I was tagged by the WONDERFUL @theshieldedhero

So I will tag peeps but you may have done this way back when so I’m sowwy! *snickers* I’ll try for some new faces! Hehe let’s get some AMAZING peeps named here why don’t we though you ALL are wonderful!

@vylette-elakha @lizard-grandma @under-the-blood-moonlight @ivyffxiv @yuki-yukichan @voidwife @lareine-kira @company-in-rose @resistance-ranger @abyssalnobleknight @miqojak @scales-and-steppes @khaamara @handofcards @a-sharlayan-abroad @eorzeanwildrose @mountainfists @ithaerielbrenagh @savona-drake @arabeka-ffxiv @white-marionette @oathswornshield @rei-sei @ghostlyfoxangel @raifenrir @jenpants @the-hawkeyes @lalaliya @aigiarnqestir-ffxiv @roxinova @wooddancer-ffxiv @savagedancer-ffxiv @shinnoni @kikyo-mihata @isuke-ejinn@lukelxiv @jadestormbrand @red-hare

P.S. HOLY CRAP this is long! LOL

[imagine-loki]

High Tide - Chapter 3

TITLE: High Tide CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 3/? AUTHOR: @writings-and-wonderings ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine a Pirate AU where you and Loki are opposing pirates and you end up in a duel. One of you kicks the others ass and the winner offers to buy a drink for the loser. After a few good drinks, you both head back to your ship for a little more fun.  RATING: Teen  NOTES/WARNINGS: I don’t think there are any warnings but please let me know if you find any!

——-

I awoke the next morning to the sound of men singing shanties and the rocking feeling of the ocean. Loki was no longer next to me, but he had laid my clothes out neatly as opposed to the pile I made last night. My eyes finally adjusted to the brightness of the cabin, and the view of the vast sea before me made my heart swell. This ocean was mine for the taking. My small port town was far behind me, in spirit and physically.

I finally convinced myself to get up and get dressed, anxiety and nervousness willing me to get on with the day. The need for new clothes burned deep as the dress was certainly ill-fitted for life upon a ship. But Loki promised we would be arriving at a port soon. I decided to ditch the corset, as it was far too much trouble. The first thing that hit me when I walked out onto the deck was the sea-salt wind that blew across my face, and then the never-ending vastness surrounding us finally set in.

“Oh my God,” I whispered as I span in circles happily, trying to take it all in.

“Glad to see you’re finally awake,” Loki called from the helm. He had ditched his waistcoat, and his shirt was once again half-unbuttoned.

“Do you forget to button your shirt up properly, or is it just your style?” I called back, making my way up the wooden steps to join him.

“Touche,” he muttered. “Sleep well?” I nodded, smiling up at him. “Good. Right, I’ll introduce you to the crew.” Loki checked the compass before offering his arm, which I gladly took. We went around the ship then, meeting his crew and being told how everything works. I could already tell I would forget most of what he was saying, but with any luck I would be here long enough to learn it all. The men were still singing shanties as we wandered the decks, but they all stopped whenever Loki walked past them to acknowledge him.

“Your crew seem very respectable,” I commented as we got to the bow.

“Only because you’re here,” he replied, dropping my arm and putting his hands in his pockets. I nudged him slightly with my elbow, and he tore his eyes away from the ocean to look at me.

“Why did you let me on here?” I asked quietly, watching him closely.

“Gut instinct,” he shrugged and turned back to the ocean. “And I could see in your eyes this is where you really belong.” My heart fluttered at this, a swell of emotion hitting the back of my throat.

“You think so?” I asked timidly, afraid he would change his mind.

He grinned down at me, before wrapping his arm around my waist and drawing me closer. “I’m going to take you on the adventure of a lifetime.”

“And if I survive this adventure, will I be able to go on more?” His body stiffened, his jaw twitching slightly.

“I don’t see why not,” he said quietly. “But let’s focus on this one for now.” He turned to look at me, his hand going back into his pocket. “Come, I’ll show you our destination.” We walked back across the deck and into his quarters. Laid out on the table was a map and beside it was another compass.

“Where are we headed?” I asked, looking at the map but failing to identify any sort of helpful indication of where we actually were.

“There,” he said pointing to an island. “It’s my crew’s favourite place to stop after a big raid journey.” He perched on the edge of the table and crossed his arms, looking at me expectantly. “But until then we’re going to hit as many ports as possible. And possibly a few ships if we can get away with it.” He took my hand and pulled me gently towards him, our knees touching. Despite sharing a bed last night, the feel of his body against mine still felt wrong, scandalous, as if I were committing the biggest crime, but it was exciting all the same. He took my other hand, rubbing his thumbs in circles on the back of my hand.

“You weren’t joking when you said that you were a pirate,” I whispered, scared to speak any louder. He chuckled lowly, turning my hands over in his. The feel of his rough hands against my own told their own story of pulling ropes and hauling heavy cargo. “How long have you been a pirate?“

"My father was a merchant, so he frequently traveled aboard ships. If I was lucky he would bring me along. I’ve loved the sea ever since I was a child, and I would’ve done anything to be a part of this world for the rest of my life. So I did what was necessary, and here I am.” I felt I had hit a soft spot, as his hands stopped traveling over mine and instead lay still, defeated.

“I’m sorry,” I said, quietly, taking his hands in my own and kneeling in front of him, a smile spreading across my lips. Loki seemed taken aback by my actions, but still eager to know what came next. “I promise I shan’t press further on your personal matters. I hope you can forgive me,” I gushed in mock sincerity. Loki smiled, freeing one of his hands from my own and tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear.

“You’re so peculiar, (Y/N),” he said as if to himself, eyes flickering over my face in search of a question unanswered. A knock came at the door, and I immediately stood up, a blush rushing to my cheeks.

“Captain, there’s something you might be interested in.” A voice called from the other side. Loki sauntered over to the door and opened it. “Are you okay mate?” His first mate, Kidd, looked over his shoulder at me, a cheekiness spreading over his face.

“Quite alright thank you, show me what it is you’re so eager for me to see,” Kidd looked away from me and back to Loki, still grinning. Loki motioned to me to follow. We went up to the bow of the ship, the breeze brushing lightly over our faces.

“That ship there, captain. We believe it’s a merchant ship, full of goods.”

“What kind of goods?”

“I’m not a witch, how am I supposed to know? But Jim looked for canons and he couldn’t find any. We could take her, easy.” Loki glanced down at Kidd, a fondness rushing through his features.

“You want to take her don’t you, Kidd?” He asked, his eyes twinkling again. Kidd nodded enthusiastically. “Then we shall. Prepare the men. And then, if the loot is good, we shall have a party.”

Kidd rushed off to tell the rest of the crew, leaving me alone again with Loki, which seemed to be the default at this current point in time. Not that I minded, of course.

“This, love, is when it gets exciting,” he said, turning to me. “You’re more than welcome to join in.”

“I’ll protect the ship,” I said. “Maybe next time though. I feel my swordsmanship isn’t exactly up to scratch.”

“We’ll have to change that then, you shall become the most fearless pirate of them all!”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I said, giggling at his excitement. The ship started to buzz with energy, and Loki could easily have been the source. His breathing became almost erratic, and his eyes darted about quickly, watching his crew’s movement with anticipation.

The sails were full, and we were speeding towards the ship. I hadn’t known a ship to go quite as fast as this one, and it made me wonder how Loki had acquired it. A story for when he was ready.

“I must go and prepare. If you are not taking part you should get somewhere safe, my quarters perhaps, and wait there.” Loki held my arm. “Stay safe for me. There shouldn’t be any problems, but if there is you’ll find a cutlass on the bookshelf immediately on your left as you enter my quarters.”

“I’ll stay safe. I promise.”

“Raise the flag!” A call was sent out across the ship, and cheers and other such calls were being made. It all became one mass sound, as if the ship itself was humming with excitement.

“Excuse me,” Loki said, before running off. I hadn’t seen him in his element before, but I could certainly understand why he had become a pirate.

I walked briskly back to his quarters, trying to avoid the men dashing about. Time passed slowly, the rush of feet overhead sending adrenaline coursing through my veins, and I became restless sitting alone in the cabin. But then all at once, canons started firing.