#My gallant crew good morning

[nothingifnotobstinate]

hi there 😶

[satureja13]

Saiwa's Therapy Game - Part 3 It starts -> here

'It′s of a brave and a gallant ship With a fair an' a fav′ring breeze, And a goodly crew and a captain too, For to carry me over the seas. For to carry me over the seas, my boys, To my true love far away; I'm taking a trip on a Government ship Ten thousand miles away!'

10.000 Miles Away

Captain Duath sailed 10.000 miles (more or less ^^') until he found a decent remote island.

'And sing blow the winds high-o, a-roving I will go. I'll stay no more on England′s shore or to hear the music play, For I'm off on the morning train and I won′t be back again. For I'm taking a trip on a Government ship Ten thousand miles away.'

An island all for himself! THAT was his dream! Living all by himself and caring only for himself! This is a place where he can fully concentrate on his healing.

Captain Duath moored his dinghy thing and unloaded his few belongings before he explored the small island. Until he found a mailbox - and a flamingo. The label on the mailbox read: Flamingo Island... He always loved flamingos...

(TMI: I created Saiwa in November 2014 as Giga Byte for a career special where she lived as a hacker above the 'Flamin to Go' takeaway.) There also was a flamingo poster in the trailer of the StrangeTrailer Park in Strangerville which later hung in Sai and Jack's apartment at Belgraves Institute.

But a flamingo also is a bird and will remind him of their unfinished business with his damn fake relationship with Kiyoshi. Saiwa is sure that this is no coincidence. Tiny Can won't let him off the hook this easily as it seems. No matter how far he runs away from his problems.

He'll think about that later. Here ingame, he has any time in the world. First he needs a shelter and the buildmode in the Therapy Game was a joy! (Did the flamingo turn towards Sai? He seems to watch him ö.Ö')

Soon he built a little shack out of some thriftwood and stuff he found in the ocean (which was also good for the environment ^^).

To show Tiny Can that he's not just lazing around and to show his goodwill to change, he went with the Flamingo Island theme and built a flamingo patterned armchair. He even found a flamingo towel and shorts...

Saiwa was very dirty after cleaning up the ocean and he urgently needed to take a shower. He thought it's ok that he put the shower outside. The shack is already too small and no one will see him out here anyway.

'No one' was really surprised by the unexpected sight ^^'

Saiwa was hungry after all the work and so he went to catch some fresh fish. He couldn't be happier. He can eat when he wants and what he wants (as long as it's fish ^^') and no one is disturbing him here! (But maybe this island is abandoned because of the fuming vulcano that might 'disturb' him sooner or later ö.Ö')

And while he was grilling his fish, butterflies surrounded him. Just like paradise! (Can you spot all four butterflies? Minus the flying fish ^^')

Saiwa's 'bathroom' :3

While he ate and looked over the calm ocean, he thought about all the things that are stirring him up inside and keeping him from his calm and that he needs to tackle in his therapy. The leadership of the Boys, his relationship with Jeb and his friendship with Kiyoshi. A lot of 'ships'. Maybe therefore Tiny Can made him a captain ^^' And maybe the flamingo bird means he should work on his friendship with Kiyoshi and Jeb first. So they can finally go back home and try to have a halfway normal life together again.

Before he leaves the game, he laid in the sun for a while and let his thoughts flow. Will it be possible to stay the leader or will he have to give it up for his relationship with Jeb? Or will he have to give up Jeb for the Boys?There will always be situations where he will have to put the Boys over Jeb. Is it fair to keep Jeb by his side if he can't be his top priority? He hates to hurt Jeb, but it will happen again. Will there be a way to deal with it? Or would it be better if they kept their distance and Jeb found someone other than him? Who would love him like he deserves it? Jeb is too stubborn and loves Saiwa too much to break up. Even if he were unhappy.

And how are they even supposed to go back to normal? Kiyoshi, Jeb and him. After all that had happened? He had that damn fake relationship with Kiyoshi to get him out of that tree because they thought Saiwa was Kiyoshi's fated mate and now Jeb and Kiyoshi live together. And there are still all the other problems he has as their leader. That they have to stay together or armageddon, Ji Ho's lost feelings, Jack's pain because he left Kiyoshi, his real fated mate. The Council. And the sword of damokles over their heads that Ji Ho's grandfather did something that let put Ji Ho a spell on Vlad to seduce him to obtain his powers for the Council... OMG! They might be safe in the Otherworld from their enemies for now but their problems are following them whereever they go. Is it even possible to go back to the real world? (Yep, that flamingo is definitely moving! ö.ö)

'Oh, my true love she was beautiful, My true love she was young; Her eyes were like the diamonds bright And silvery was her tongue. And silvery was her tongue, my boys, As the big ship left the bay She said, will you remember me Ten thousand miles away?'

Outtakes This is so annoying that there are abandoned boats on the ocean -.-You can't put them in your inventory so I let Saiwa move it behind a rock when we started this session and now it's back again!

The Therapy Game Master Post with the sessions and places so far is -> here

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[skygal-178]

IMOGEN & LAUDNA ORIGINS

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A story of two complete strangers and the strong bond that blossoms between them!

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artwork by @shadydruid characters by laura bailey and marisha ray from @criticalrole

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“Imogen, I.. I’m sorry! I don’t.. I’m sorry!” Before Laudna can say anymore, Imogen reconnects their lips once more sweet little kiss. “I’m not. You’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever met, Laudna. And I like you.. a lot..” “But not right now.” “Maybe just.. be friends, for now.. and see where it goes.” Laudna gives Imogen a soft smile and nods, before leaning in for another hug. “Let’s go to bed, we’re gonna have a long day tomorrow.” Imogen nods, and the two head below deck to their quarters.

The next morning a sound of a bustling wharf surrounds the ship, with street vendors yelling a small distance into town and merchants selling their goods to the shop owners by the docks. “So where are you two of to now that you made it across?” Jester asks cheerful as ever, as she spots the ladies walk on deck. “Oh we’re heading to the Starlight Conservatory in Jrusar.” Laudna replies, sharing an assuring look with Imogen. “I would like to find out more about the origins of my powers.” Imogen adds. “You mean you didn’t get your powers from any of the Gods?” “That’s the thing, I don’t really know where they came from. I have always thought they came from my mother, but I don’t know much about her either.” “I hope you find what you're looking for there.” Fjord walks up to them, their son not far behind him. He keeps a bit of distance from Laudna and clings to his mother's side. “Safe travels to you too.” Imogen smiles, as she slings her bag over her shoulder. Jester, Fjord, and the rest of the crew wave them off as Laudna and Imogen disembark and start walking into town.

It doesn’t take too long for them to find a tavern to stay the night. Once that’s al settled, the ladies head out to find a way to Jrusar. Spending the afternoon walking around town and talking with some locals, they come across a traveling couple willing to take them along to the spire city. Taking a few days on horse cart, they arrive about midday at the base of the Lantern Spire. Passing through thriving markets and welcomed by locals selling travel and tourist goods. Filou - a young human lady, with long black hair and wearing layered clothes of beige, red and blue colors - and Gallant - a young tiefling man, with a burnt orange skintone and wearing the same type of layered clothing with additional metal armor plates covering the shins, knees and chest area - lead them across the Fatewalk, a stone bridge crossing to the Core Spire. “Thank you guy so much. We really aprreciate your help.” The guy and the girl nod and smile kindly as they waves them off.

As they walk around the base of the Core Spire, through the Windowed Wall neighborhood. When they suddenly hear a woman screaming from one of the houses nearby. “Why ah was that? Did you hear that?” Laudna looks up now fully alert. “Sounded like it’s coming from over there, c’mon!” Imogen immediately rushes over to where the scream is coming from. “HELP! HELP ME!” An older woman bursts through the front door of her house, completely panicked and out of breath. “Ma’am, it’s alright. You’re safe now. What happened?” Imogen places her hands on the elder's shoulders, trying her best to calm her down. “They were everywhere.. th-they came out of the ground..” “What came out of the ground?” Laudna asks, stepping up to them. “I.. I don’t know.. these small hooded creatures.. they crawled out from inside my closet. Started ransacking the place, and attacking me.” “We’ll go take a look inside, you stay here okay.” Imogen gives Laudna a nod, before the two heads inside the house. Where they immediately come face to face with about six of these small hooded figures. Laudna makes quick work of it, as one jumps towards her claws out. It drops down on the floor in front of her, dead. That catches the attention of the others. Luckily their nog very hefty creatures and they take them out one by one. Two more crawl out from the closet, but those are turned back on their heel in fear and mental agony. “Quick, let’s find something to cover up this whole.” Imogen and Laudna both starts looking around for something, anything. “These will work.” Laudna holds up two wooden planks, from the nightstand broken by the creatures. Imogen nods, holding the planks in place as Laudna nails them in place with her rock hammer she took out of her hair. Taking a little bit to be absolutely sure no more of those critters are able to break through, before walking back outside where the lady is still waiting.

“Oh, are you girls okay?! You didn’t get hurt did you? Gods I wouldn’t want you to get hurt for me!” She rambles. Imogen walks up to her. “We’re alright, ma’am. We got rid of those creatures.” “And we also managed to seal off the whole they came out of.” Laudna adds. “They won’t be hurting you anymore.” Imogen finishes, giving the lady her kindest smile. “Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!” The lady takes Imogens hands in her hers. “Please, let me set you ladies a nice pot of tea. Fresh from the market.” Imogen and Laudna share a look, before accepting the offer and following her back inside.

A couple of hours have gone by in the blink of an eye. Having just a nice hot cup of tea with this kind stranger is refreshing after their long travel. “I truly can’t thank you enough for ridding my home of those pesky little monsters. If there’s anything I can do for you, please come by whenever.“ Madam Zhudanna offers, pouring one last cup of freshly brewed tea for everybody. “Oh I’m just glad you’re alright, I hope our craftsmanship will hold them back from now on.” Imogen replies. Laudna gives Imogen a quick look, thinking about the one thing they are still looking for. Receiving a barely noticeable nod in return. “Actually, we just arrived here in Jrusar today and we haven’t really had time to find a place to stay. If there’s anything in the area you know about, that would be well appreciated.” Laudna states, taking a sip of her tea. “Oh well, there are a few taverns and inns around. You have the Spire by Fire here on the Core Spire, the Weary Way on the Lantern Spire and the Soot and Swill tavern on the SMolder Spire. Those are the best known. If you’d like to save yourselves some money, you’re welcome to stay over with me.” Zhudanna offers unexpectedly. “Oh.. well..” Laudna stutters looking over at Imogen who is already looking back at her. In a silent conversation, the ladies seem to agree. “That would be lovely, we could help out with groceries and chores as a way of payment.” Imogen smiles kindly at the elderly lady.

Some days later, Laudna and Imogen have made a little home for themselves in the room they have at Zhudanna’s. Going out for groceries when needed and taking odd jobs to earn enough coin to send a request letter to the Starpoint Conservatory on the Aerie Spire in the meantime. Taking a couple of weeks, but eventually they succeed and manage to send to letter.

Another couple weeks later, there still hasn’t been any reply. “Maybe we should just go over therev and ask in person. Showing enthusiasm in research might help in our favor.” Laudna suggests, noticing Imogen at a loss. “Yeah.. maybe..” Imogen sighs deeply. “I just don’t understand why it’s so dificult to just read some books, it’s not like I need to take them with me. I just wanna know where these powers came from.” She states, a hint of defeat evident in her voice. “Alright! That’s it, let’s go!” Laudna grabs Imogen’s hand, pulling her of her seat. “Wha- right now.. Laudna.. wait!” She gently pulls her hand free. “We’ve been waiting for weeks now, I bet those rich bastards haven’t even as much as glanced at our letter. And that’s just bullcrap!” The frustration in Laudna is building quickly. “You’re probably right.. I’d like to be a bit more prepared, so let’s go tomorrow.” Laudna nods and the two make their way back to Zhudanna’s place. Imogen’s demeanor become a bit more hopeful as they walk off down the road.

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AN: I'm so so so sorry for the late upload, I've been having serious writers block for the past months.. still struggling, but I really wanted to finish this story! I hope it doesn't feel rushed or anything.. Also I know it seems like a bit of an open ending, but this is the point where I imagine campaign three starts off with Imogen and Laudna going to the conservatory together.

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[vigilantdesert]

“  you know, if you moved in we wouldn’t keep having to say goodbye like this.  ” // ( Morning After Starters ) from Telma, because I am ILL for these two.

Wake up, lover

Telma wasn't the first woman to make the proposition, but with the way things were going, she might very well be the last. No matter how many times they parted, Urbosa always found herself drawn back to the bar in the capitol that took so much longer to go to than any other region - sometimes without the promise of a paying customer, none-the-less!

She couldn't let her paramour know that, though. She told Telma a good deal more than she told most, but the thought of laying her emotions bare, honest in front of both of them... She didn't know if her pride could take it.

Instead, the captain gave a gallant smile and raised a hand to scrunch Telma's locks in her hand. So gorgeously curled, and so soft as they looped in on themselves. She shifted in the bed to scootch closer to its owner, half her legs still hanging off at the knee so she had enough room for the rest of her.

"Darling... You make giving up the sea seem possible. A happy life, even."

She propped herself up on her elbow, letting her hand follow the curve of her lover's ear, then down to her neck and collarbones, tracing their outline with the back of her hand.

"... Maybe once I'm ready to retire."

She was getting old - well, for her people, anyway. Sea-faring was a young woman's game, and as her thirtieth had recently passed, her mind grew ever further. Who to leave the ship to, where to hide out until certain bounties passed their prime... Maybe the capitol was a good place after all. Who looked for a pirate in a land-locked province?

"But until then, my life. I can't abandon my crew anymore than you can abandon the bar."

[excitementshewrote]

[araiz-zaria]

Did Farragut Ever Experience Tsunami? 🌊

To be precise, in Brazil (November 1842)? Or on his sail back to Chesapeake Bay in winter 1842-43, somewhere in the Carribean?

At least that was what initially crossed my mind when I first read relevant passages in his biography (by Loyall still!).

.

So, on to the first instance. To set the stage — after being in Buenos Aires since June 1842, Commander Farragut (on USS Decatur) was ordered to sail home (to Chesapeake Bay — Norfolk Navy yard). The ship made several stops along the South American Atlantic coast — and they made one such stop near the mouth of Paraíba river. They made it inland as they sailed upstream the river, to a place named Boa Vista.

"We set out on our return in the boat about 5 P. M. Toward dusk I heard a roaring like steam, which none of us could account for; I soon perceived, however, that it came from the ocean, but did not think it was anything more than a 'tide rip'. Our old host, however, became very much alarmed, and advised us to keep close in-shore to avoid the tide-flow which he feared would swamp us. I entertained no such apprehension of the danger, but followed his advice to gratify him. I soon found that he had reason for his caution; for the seas came upon us so fast that one large fellow boarded us before I could get the boat clear, and gave us considerable trouble to escape. The waves came rolling in about four feet high; but we passed out in gallant style, receiving only a good wetting."

.

On a second read, this might seem more like pororoca (tidal bore happening on the Amazon and adjacent rivers flowing into the Atlantic ocean) rather than a fully fledged tsunami (though I must admit I could neither ascertain for one or the other, only surmise). What made me surmise it more as pororoca was the lack of registered earthquake in the record. While the peaks of pororoca happens during equinox (in March and September — the ship only reached Paraíba around November), it usually happens during new and full moons. Farragut and his crews might not have experienced the bore at its peak (4 feet wave compared to 13 feet wave at its peak), but it seems like in the end that's what they might have experienced.

.

Now the second instance.

"This morning there was a general alarm in the ship, caused by a rumbling noise, which was variously attributed; by some to the running out of chain cables, by others to the rolling of barrels under the decks, and then a painful impression prevailed that the ship was scraping over a bank. It soon became apparent that it was the shock of an earthquake. I had the time marked; it increased gradually in intensity for two minutes, and ceased at the end of three minutes. When it was at its height, the ship shook very much, and the noise resembled the veering out of chain cables. The nearest land, Anguila, was one hundred and thirty miles off. I suppose it must have been very severe on shore. An hour after the shock the northeast trades sprang up quite fresh, and all the clouds were dispersed.

There appeared to be a sympathy between the earthquake and the weather."

.

This one struck me more plausibly as tsunami, not only because of the recorded earthquake, but also because of the loud noise (which is also the signs of impending tsunami). Being at sea, one couldn't record for another sign that usually noticed on the coast — the sudden, far receding of the tide (so again, this phenomenon being tsunami is more surmised than ascertained).

.

What do you think? What happened to Farragut and his crew during this two instances?

[spookyscientistskeleton-moved]

Flashback

Send me “Flashback” for a vignette about my muse’s past || Accepting! (but slow going in writing them lol)

CONTENT WARNING: Wartime cruelty, starvation, and some discussion of suicide for good measure. 

They’d marched through at dawn. 

No one was left to fight them. No one was there to stop them. 

When Ferno thought back to the stories they grew up learning as children about the earliest wars among monsterkind, before they’d united under the banner of one king, he remembered hearing about last-minute turnarounds and climactic battles. He realized now that all of that had probably been for dramatic effect; the storytellers’ way of keeping him and the other stupid flamelings’ attention when all they wanted to do was run around tussling in the dirt and  setting fire to shrubs. There had been no gallant heroes rallying the troops with moving speeches, no daring maneuvers. This hadn’t… been like that. It hadn’t been like that at all. 

More of their time had been spent just… waiting.

They’d timed their attack for the dead of winter, when reinforcements would be harder to come by and the effects of starvation would be more pronounced. He still remembered the day they’d burned the storehouse. It’d been a small affair, just him and a couple other boys from the village. They’d razed the place to the ground, so quick that the humans hadn’t been able to mobilize in time to catch them or stop them. He remembered making it back over the hill. He remembered looking back, seeing the plumes of smoke stretching into the pitch black sky. 

From there, the plan had been simple. Surround the encampment, watch for and deal with anyone delivering supplies. If there were fights--and there were, here and there--focus on destroying any caravans containing food above all else. Leave them nothing. Leave them nothing and wait.

It had taken right around three months. 

A missive had been delivered to them last night. Ferno was surprised the messenger had made it to their camp at all--he was all but falling off his horse, skin stretched taut over his skin. An older guy, someone his commanders had probably deemed to be ‘expendable.’ The note declared the troop’s unconditional surrender, in exchange for one request: that a path be left clear for the civilians living at the camp to leave. Ferno’s commander had gotten a laugh out of that one, but he’d issued the order all the same. They’d break the defensive line along the northern road, and allow one caravan to pass through that night. 

Any soldiers with the caravan would be slaughtered on sight. Then they’d march into town the next morning, finish off whoever was left, and burn the place to the ground. 

They’d slit the old man’s throat and chucked him in the river. 

Ferno couldn’t bring himself to feel much pity for the poor fucks as they made their way into town. They were the ones who started this war, after all. This wasn’t anything more cruel than what their kind had been put through, over and over and over again. But it was… sobering, the quiet in this place. The heavy stench of death and decay. Most of the soldiers had already offed themselves in the night, preferring to go out on their own terms, and Ferno figured he could respect that. There were a handful of others here and there, weakened and emaciated, hiding like cowards, or trying to fight back. They’d made short work of all of them. It hadn’t even really been a fight. 

“Spread out,” the commander ordered, his voice echoing in the stillness. “Might as well see if there’s anything worth taking. Lieutenant Colonel--” Ferno stood up a bit straighter, “--when I give the order, you and the rest of your boys start burning. I don’t want a single goddamn brick of this place left when we’re done here, understood?” 

Ferno’s formed a wide, crooked grin, arm raised in a mock salute. ‘Yeah, you got it, boss.’ His commander scowled. Ferno had never liked that prick. He turned to address his own men, waving them off. ‘Go on, get moving! When it’s time, rendezvous here--we’ll start in the middle and work our way out.’ His remaining subordinates--a crew of Elementals that had dwindled down to just five--saluted him, before making their way to other parts of the town. Ferno got walking too, starting down one of the nearby alleyways. He didn’t expect that this wouldn’t take long. Wasn’t exactly like they’d have much supplies to go around--that had kind of been the point of this mission--and whatever was left probably wasn’t usable by monsters either. 

Still, orders were orders. And if anything, they could probably do something with the remaining weapons around. Their magic couldn’t measure up to that of humans, but guns and swords? Those still cut ‘em down easy as you please. 

Speaking of…

‘Hel-lo there, buddy,’ Ferno drawled, crouching down by a uniformed corpse against the wall. ‘Lookin’ a little stiff there, ain’tcha?’ He’d probably taken himself out late last night. The gun was still in his hand, streaks of dried blood clinging to his matted hair and painting a gory stripe down the side of his face. Ferno reached down, carefully trying to loosen the guy’s grip around the butt of the weapon. They were still holding on tight, clutching in a death (ha) grip. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, easing a bit of fire magic into the joints to loosen them a little. ‘Come on now, buttercup, time to give up the ghost. I ain’t got all day.’ 

Finally, his fingers relaxed, and Ferno slipped the weapon from his grip. He sighed, sitting back on his heels. ‘There. Now was that so--’

He turned to get up, and found himself staring directly into the face of a small human child. 

Ferno started, dropping right back onto his ass. ‘What the FUCK--’ 

He covered his mouth. The child, a bit glassy-eyed and disoriented, didn’t seem too frightened, or perhaps was just too out of it with hunger and dehydration to really care. She blinked at him, then sat down next to him on the ground, rubbing lightly at her arms. Of course. She was cold, dressed in worn shoes and a ratty little dress, and he was… well. Kind of a living hearth.

Footsteps approached, and Ferno blinked, gaze shooting back up to the front of the alley. “Hey!” A voice called. “Everything good over there?” He glanced back down at the human child. She looked back. 

He grabbed her by the arm, and shoved her behind the corpse. She didn’t fight him. He brought a finger to his mouth, hissing out a ‘shhh.’ 

Pushing himself upright, he turned to face the monster who’d approached. ‘Yeah, we’re good. Just, uh, tripped over this poor fuck, gave me a bit of a start. I’m alright.’ 

“Really?” Snort. “Ain’t like you to be so jumpy.”

‘Yeah, yeah, fuck off.’ He waved him off dismissively, turning his back. ‘Just get back to work already.’ 

He waited until he heard footsteps fading. Then finally, he sighed, looking back down at the kid.

‘What the fuck are you still doing here?’ he snarled. She stared back, blinking heavily. She shivered again, and stood up shakily, moving towards him. Ferno sighed, but didn’t stop her. ‘There was a caravan that left last night, why the hell weren’t you with them? This place is gonna be ashes by noon, kid, you gotta--stop that.’ He jerked his arm away. She was still holding out her tiny hand, looking up at him with a confused frown. ‘You got a… fuck, I dunno, a mommy? A daddy? Somebody?’ 

“My mama got sick,” she said simply, before glancing down at the body on the ground. “And… my daddy…” 

Ferno followed her gaze. The flames of his face faded briefly to a pale purple. 

‘... Come on.’ He took her by the wrist, and started to walk. She followed behind clumsily, trying to keep up with his stride, though she barely had the strength to keep walking. She tripped once, near the end of the alley, and it was only Ferno’s grip that kept her from scraping up her little knees on the cobblestones. He sighed, bending down and scooping her up into his arms. 

He ducked and weaved back through the town, holding the kid close against his chest. Passing through alleys and abandoned houses, hopping over backyard fences and behind empty barns.

All the while, the girl barely moved. 

When he reached the outskirts of the town, he set the kid down gently, and pointed off to the east. ‘You see that path down the way there?’ 

The girl nodded.

‘Don’t follow it. Stick to the trees and stay outta sight. There should be a town a couple miles down the road. Your people oughta be able to help you.’ He reached into his pocket, taking out a small bag. Rations for the road--magic food, but something she could probably still eat. He placed it in her hand as he got to his feet. ‘Don’t stop walking until you’re there, alright? You understand?’

She nodded again, her gaze fixed on the bag in her hands. 

“Uh huh.”

‘Good. Now fucking go.’

She took a few tentative steps towards the forest, before glancing back at him over her shoulder.

“Thank y--”

‘--Don’t.’ He turned, and started back towards town. 

He glanced back, after twenty paces or so. 

She was already gone. 

The rest of the day went easily enough. Every now and again a sudden discharge of magic would sound from somewhere else in the town--a sign that some other ill-fated survivor had been found and snuffed out. Mercy killings at this point, frankly. Ferno wondered how it felt for them, dying this way. Dying in the same kind of hopeless misery they’d subjected their people to since this war began, that they’d continue to subject them to even after this. 

Victories were few and far between in any war, but especially for them, especially for this war. 

He figured they should probably enjoy it while they had it. Some of them did. Hours later, as the town burned, some of them cheered and laughed and celebrated. They drank to their dead and cursed their killers, spitting on the charred corpses that remained. 

One good day, for them. One good day in a countless barrage of other terrible days, watching their world come apart at the seams, watching their numbers dwindle week after week. 

One good day. And this was what that looked like. 

He watched the flames, and he didn’t feel anything at all. 

[suspiciouslynotapastor]

In the early Simpsons episode Cape Fear, Bart asks Sideshow Bob to perform the entirety of HMS Pinafore, BUT Bob begins with "We sail the ocean blue..." and skips over "My gallant crew, good morning..." and I'm pretty sure that's a breach of contract or some such.

[inclineto]

So various, so beautiful

(1700 words, which are mostly introductions)

“No other captain will sail with her,” the Chamberlain had said, “but I am certain you will be obliging.” And so the sorceress came aboard her own Cygnet without ceremony, passenger and baggage swung up so quickly that the pilot’s cutter was pulling rapidly away before Elisabeth had set her pen aside and gone above to welcome her.

The sorceress was shaking out her crumpled skirts on the main deck, surrounded by chests and boxes and a canary fluttering in its wicker cage. The crew watched her warily from a distance of several paces, while they pretended instead to pay close attention to nearby ropes or the direction of the wind or the ship’s cat perched on the rail or any of half a dozen other unnecessary occupations.

“It cheers me to hear him,” she said, seeing Elisabeth’s wary look at the bird. “Did you think I meant to enchant - oh, goodness, no! I only cast my spells on the willing.” She beamed, a roundly bird-like creature herself: brown-haired, blue-eyed, rosy-cheeked as a china shepherdess. “We’ll share your quarters, I presume? I wouldn’t wish to turn you out of your own bed.”

Elisabeth had agreed to be enchanted, but she refused to be charmed: not by the sorceress’s smile, nor the well-turned ankles she’d revealed in setting her clothes to rights. She took up the birdcage and offered her arm. “This way please, my lady.” 

“Margaret, please,” she said, giving Elisabeth’s elbow a confiding squeeze. “Or Peggy, if we’re friends.”

“Madam,” Elisabeth said, and led her into the cabin.

The canary’s name was Ambrose.

Throughout the afternoon the sorceress chattered and bustled around the great room, supervising the delivery of her trunks and the arrangement of a second bed, draping a piece of grey silk over the pier glass, whistling - Elisabeth winced - to Ambrose perched on her fingertip. Elisabeth looked over her charts and ignored her. With the fleet away south beyond recall, the eastern coast was vulnerable. If she were in command, she’d harry the fishing villages and set her forces to gain a foothold against the defenses at Heston on Marenwash and the open roads to the west. 

Settling at last with teacup in hand the sorceress turned her attention to Elisabeth and stared at her without speaking until she lost her patience and stared rudely back.

“Let me see if I have you to rights,” the sorceress said. “Elisabeth Katharine Lukasdottir, merchant’s child, a respectable family, not politically connected, careful with their funds and their ships. At sea since you were eight and captain on your own merits by twenty-two. Noticed by the government after your work in the western islands, your reputation secured by six raids against shipping out of the port at Colward. Feted around the dockyards for your skill and your bonny brown eyes, and now commissioned to be at my service, but you don’t play the gallant, do you?” She looked serious, the flirtatious pose set aside. 

“Madam, was it required,” Elisabeth said. Twilight had fallen, only dim light shining in from the gallery windows. The canary was asleep.

“No, only, it might help if I could like you just a little. As you might like me.” 

Elisabeth thought of the other captains who would have been asked before the council turned to her: Lacey, red-nosed with drink. Hasse, striking a boy, off-duty, for dozing in his sight. Arnaud, pleasant enough, devoted to his wife. What she could see of the sorceress’s - Margaret’s - expression seemed pleading. She nodded. “I don’t...dislike you,” she said.

Margaret smiled, more gently. “It will have to do,” she said, and set aside her cup, locked the door and came back to stand behind Elisabeth, resting her hands on her shoulders.“You’ve been at your charts for hours. Are you resolute? Do you understand what I will ask of you when you work this spell with me?” she asked.

“Yes, my lady,” Elisabeth said. She was not ready, but she was prepared, and since she had agreed for love and duty she could give no other answer.

“Then let us begin. Close your eyes, and think of a barrier, anchored all along the coast, letting us pass through but keeping out anyone who ought not to pass it,” Margaret said, and in her mind’s eye Elisabeth saw all the ocean - cape to harbor to rivermouth, all the cliffs and currents of the country pulled from her memory. As she pictured each anchorage, it began to glow as if a shining net had been cast over it, and Elisabeth felt a strange tugging at her heart, as if the line played out of her own breast. “Good. Oh, that’s just marvelous, you’ll do my work for me. On maps the coast is fixed, but for you it breathes, doesn’t it? Elisabeth. Breathe.” 

Margaret’s voice was urgent, no longer the dreamy wandering murmur Elisabeth had been chasing. Elisabeth gasped, choked, and the glimmering scene vanished. The blood roared in her ears as she dropped her head between her knees, shivering when Margaret put one cool hand to the back of her neck and rubbed her fingertips gently through the base of her sweat-soaked braid. 

After a time Margaret spoke. “Do you often forget yourself during this sort of work?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve never tried - I’m sorry,” Elisabeth said. She lifted her head tentatively, and then sat up, Margaret’s hand still resting comfortingly on the clammy linen between her shoulder blades.

“Oh, darling, don’t be. I ought to have realized - if you’d been practiced at it, I’d never have allowed myself to miss a mind like yours. Tell me, what did they promise you for this service?”

“Any prize I wished to pursue,” Elisabeth said hoarsely, staring into the darkness. “That any door he knocked at would be opened for my brother. That I could endure it.” 

Margaret stooped beside her with a rustle of lavender-scented skirts, arm thrown around her shoulders in a bracingly friendly embrace. “You shall have it, and he shall have it, and I promise you, you can do much more than endure.” Her breath on Elisabeth’s ear made her shiver again, and Elisabeth thought that she could easily turn into Margaret’s touch in the darkness, catch the words as they escaped her lips - 

“Let’s have a bit more light, shall we?” 

“Mind sparks,” Elisabeth said automatically, only to blink as Margaret blew a kiss toward the lamp and it flared to life. The canary woke and chirped. “Convenient, don’t you think?” said Margaret. “Now, look at the flame. I shall pull the hassock up here just beside you, where I can see your face. Look at the flame, and feel my hand on yours, and breathe.”

The lamp swayed gently back and forth on its brass chains. Elisabeth watched its path, and thought about turning over her hand to clasp Margaret’s. She wore no rings - no jewelry at all, that Elisabeth had seen, even the combs in her hair plain horn. Everything had grown quiet around them, as if they were aboard a phantom and not a working ship at all, and Elisabeth felt as though given the slightest urging she could fly up from her seat, up and aloft to look out from the highest masthead at the ever-changing sea. “That’s lovely,” Margaret said, “You’re lovely - such things I could teach you.” 

Elisabeth made a small noise in her throat, and let the muscles of her shoulders relax.

“Oh, you enjoy a compliment; that’s three more things I know about you, then,” Margaret said.

“Only one,” Elisabeth said. The chair’s carved wing supported her head so securely, now that she had let her weight fall back against it, and Margaret’s hand was soft and sure on her own. “Tch. Three. First, you are lovely, darling; don’t contradict.” Elisabeth felt her lips twitch. “And you like it when I tell you so. And third, you know the shape of these shores better than anyone else they could have sent me. Would you like to try again?” And at Elisabeth’s nod, she said, “Good. Close your eyes, and this time think of the harbor we’re in now-” 

“It’s Clearhaven Bay,” Elisabeth said.

“-the bay we’re in now, and then slowly pull your mind away, as if we were sailing north down the coast-” 

“Up.” 

“-up the coast, then, and you’ve sailed by every league of it, haven’t you? Don’t do anything more, just lead us along and show me the land as we go by.” Elisabeth imagined how the Cygnet would slip out with the tide, rounding the headland and carrying them along past the furzy bluffs spooling away to larboard, while she listened for the distant ringing of church bells and watched for the girls who sometimes ran down to the shore to wave their scarves to passing ships. Distantly, she thought she heard Margaret laugh to see them.

“That’s enough for tonight,” Margaret said at last.

Nothing had glowed in her vision or tugged at her breath, but she found when she opened her eyes that her head spun and her sight was fuzzy with exhaustion. “Did it work?” she asked, almost beyond caring, save that Margaret would be disappointed if they were forced to make a third attempt. 

“Beautifully. Everything from here north to Leaftonness, secure as houses. I’ll show you tomorrow. Now. Sip of wine, glass of water, boots off, and into bed with you,” she said briskly, turning down the blankets as she spoke, and pulling at Elisabeth’s boots herself when her fingers proved too clumsy. Elisabeth watched dreamily as she slipped out of her bodice and pulled the combs from her hair, realizing that Margaret intended to ignore her own bed only when she turned down the lamp and shouldered in beside her with a few soft jabs of her elbows. “Shift over,” she ordered, “with all I’ve heard about sailors, I’d have thought you’d do better at two to a bunk.” 

“Not so many clothes, usually,” Elisabeth mumbled, but she obediently gathered Margaret closer, right arm light around her waist, heads side by side on the pillow. “Smells nice, though.” 

“Stop talking, darling,” Peggy said. “You’ll make yourself blush in the morning.”

[visarnezam]

At the Rising of the Moon

The forge filled with the remnants of battle, anguished cries echoing within mountainous chambers.  “The Scion is dead!” shrieked the woeful chant that found the Lord Commander’s throbbing ears as he lay secluded from the others.  He knew it looked like the all-consuming brand that had covered his body were it not for the notably sanguine coloration of the crystals forming beneath his helm.

“The Scion is dead,” wailed another feminine voice, one which finally tethered to his cognition.  The half-melted helm whose chromatic residue had left imprints upon the crimson stalagmites glimmering as they swelled over the chasm where a simple scar once resided.  He could feel the blood draw from his veins and tire his heart as it began to form into the granite, pulsating shell.  His life force was leaving the internal machinations of his form, draining and waning his consciousness.  It eclipsed his right pectoral entirely now, crawling like the ground-eating molten eruption of a volcano toward the last of his living beats. 

His eyes peeled toward the domal ceiling, the rubble that rained down, having come loose from the Elder Dragon tearing through Melandru’s snow-capped dagger.  It was a respite he longed for, in truth, knowing well the curse laid upon him by the betrayers would swallow him soon.  A deep, bari-bass timbre serenaded a once jolly war-tune as he resigned, palms laid upward, titan's frame dressed in crimson crucifixion as he slumped against the rampart in absolute seclusion.

One more word for signal token, whistle out the marching tune With your pike upon your shoulder at the rising of the moon At the rising of the moon, at the rising of the moon With your pike upon your shoulder at the rising of the moon

The image of his betrothed, a child upon her hip and the other trailing to tug at her skirt forced a small smile to his lips.  The corruption lived in him all this time, stole from his ability to hold her as close as he wanted, to let his daughter, or son touch his features.  The impending doom had left him now as the mind directed toward the chambers of a young, gallant Vice Legate whose tawny beauty matched only by her ferocity as she reigned the justice he’d long fought so hard to purge.  

He was the last of the corrupt, the only good within him have twisted spears with the recruit, whispered brotherhood to the captain and promised fealty to those upon the ship as war waged before.  The wyvern, the harpies washing over the deck as the viperine fleet fought on, sailed through the ear leaving explosions like rhythmic drums remembered within his ears.

Out from many a mud walled cabin eyes were watching through the night Many a manly heart was beating for the blessed morning's light Murmurs ran along the valley to the banshee's lonely croon And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon.

He went quiet now, the walls erected to seal away the branded, blasting with crimson veins of lightning to reveal his affliction after all these years.  After all these years when he must dart off as the corruption swallowed.  It was his only secret, that which haunted and plagued the ones he loved, the doctor whose lips were sealed with each tear of the crystals of his spine.  He continued the sluggish, waxing ballad as his lips could no longer propel the words, simply mouth the gurgled hum as the crystalline stalagmite pierced inward, the rupturing cardio walls spasming as it consumed him.  However, beyond what closed lids could see, approached a shrouded figure who continued the echo with a newly enriched cadence, that of operatic practice and unfailing pitch.

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon All along that singing river, that black mass of men was seen High above their shining weapons flew their own beloved green.

“I knew you would be here, my brother in war,” murmured the quiet Aguillard with a small cruiser vessel having hovered in his wake.  The languid, serpentine silhouette slipped behind the bloodstone mass fearlessly, his know vacuumed penchant for magic absorbing the wistful attempts to breach his own resolve.

Death to every foe and traitor, whistle out the marching tune And hoorah me boys for freedom 'tis the rising of the moon 'Tis the rising of the moon, 'tis the rising of the moon And hoorah me boys for freedom 'tis the rising of the moon.

And within moments, the ship slipped through one of the unblocked corridors leading outside, rising to the massive vessel that had barely dodged the departure of the dragon.  Within mere moments, the chattering crew carried the Vabbian into the depths of the medbay where the young countess stood. Regaled in a succinct, violet and obsidian admiral’s coat, the Countess awaited in solitude for her cousin to arrive.

As the sunkissed, molten behemoth was laid upon a padded, surgical slab, she watched with every calmed, azure hues angled by the unblemished heritage coursing through her veins.  “How did you find him?” Asked the dulcet croon to the mischievous lord. Fernand responded, reaching down to snap one of the grown stalagmites from his chest to expose the entombed organ beneath, an obscured view to the Mesmer as she leaned over.

“Alone.  His eyes closed as it overtook him.  He never saw me,” he assured.

The conclusion left the woman’s lips as she eased a hand downward.  The fuchsia embellishment of an elaborate time piece sealed upon the ruinous left pectoral.  “And he never shall,” she chanted, the lost language rooted within Kurzick secrecy hushed as the single, dominant hand of the warped timepiece began to forcibly tick backwards.  The bloodstone’s influence retreated, sending jolts through the Commander’s frame, the shock of a secondary magical force to conflict with the first tearing through him, shredding the calm of death with seizing ruptures.   Another tick, another seize to pair with a leonine roar marring his vocals, even without the sight of his crystallized eye.   She glanced to the physician shrouded behind her.

“He must be sedated until these can be removed from his chest and spine,” the lead physician announced as Tylen began to slip away, concealing a subtle stagger in her gate as best she could.  The other, looming figure unveiled himself to be the broad, corded frame of Doctor Dietrich Aguillard. His sturdy billed pillared against Tylen as they retreated.

Disquieted by what was transpiring, Fernand made his way to the forward deck of the ship, realizing only after he’d emerged into the daylight – and could not gracefully change his mind – that his cousin was there. Keleb Aguillard, the Count.

Months ago, he’d have veered to another mundane task as to not agitate the brewing tension only he caused.  But since the building of the dreadnought and its offering to Keleb, much of the toiling grief he had projected upon the Count withered.  No longer did the man threaten his worth, but expand upon it, simply allow the architect to exist in predetermined talents, commitment. Here in Fernand’s natural habitat, his years-long rivalry with the Count arrived at a cool impasse.

He joined Keleb and stood beside him. In silence, they watched the sun chase the moon out of the great arc of the storming sky.

“She has wound it back enough for his heart to beat again,” Fernand said, “but he will be comatose.”

Keleb clasped his hands behind his back, breathed a sigh. “Like last time.  His life will be in pieces, now.”

“Like mine,” Fernand said. His expression was thoughtful, humbled. “I used to wonder why she never did this for Stella. But I understand now what I was not ready to hear all those months ago.”

Keleb nodded, but wisely did not break the silence that followed.

“I apologize,” Fernand went on, with difficulty, “for my anger. Tylen has a responsibility to use her magic in a way that doesn’t cause –“

He faltered, swallowed and wet his lips. “Well. You know what can happen. I realize now that I was a mistake.”

“You were not,” interjected the Count before the self-imposed woe could descend entirely upon Fernand. It was a validation Fernand had longed for from the Countess.  And though it was not delivered by her, one of the few who had known every fabric of her nebulous behaviors so starkly confirming allowed the tension ribboned between shoulder blades to unknit a mere trice.

“She has learned from you. That is true.”  A pregnant pause permeated their existential proximity. “You are a great engineer, Cousin, but also a soldier,” he continued. “And Aguillard soldiers do not kneel to the enemy, even if that enemy is death. You must fight every battle until the wars are finished.”

As if in answer, the hull of Anne’s Revenge groaned beneath their feet. But a courier stepped out into the daylight.

“My Lord, Count Aguillard, you wish me to send the Lord Commander’s letter?” echoed the young steward.

Amidst the exchange, the Countess, the Priestess, the Physician all emerged from the bowels of the dreadnought.   The true-blooded Aguillards began to pour outward and face the incoming dawn as a singular force.

“Send word to Stella what occurred tonight.  Tell her of the ships, tell her of the dead rising again as branded, tell her of the Scion and the Elder Dragon’s retreat.  Tell her not of the Lord Commander. That news we must control, until we know what he remembers.” The courier nodded once more, vanishing inside as Rinaldo unveiled from prior vestige within the missile chambers below the deck, standing in mismatched rows and absolute silence.

  @stellasparkles @dietrichaguillard @theaguillardfamily @krytanministry

[randomnessunicorn-imagine]

🌟 SCENARIOS / PREFERENCES: FIRST MEETING WITH THE DS9’S CREW 🌟

「 Star Trek DS9 x Neutral! Reader Drabbles  」

* This is the first part, then there will be others!

SECOND PART: http://randomnessunicorn-imagine.tumblr.com/post/181775707668/scenarios-preferences-second-meeting

✯  Benjamin Sisko  ✯

The idea of spending your life in this space station did not thrill you a lot but you had to be positive and maybe it was not going to be a bad experience, at all, because you felt something.

“I welcome you in Deep Space Nine, I hope your permanence will be pleasant.”  Sisko, the commander of this space station, said with his friendly but professional tone.

“Thank you, Mr. Sisko. I’m glad you’ve accepted my recruitment.” You answered, nodding.

“Your Curriculum is impeccable and I wonder why an officer like you decided to serve this old and abandoned space station.” He asked you, reading your credential on his PAD.

“Well, I think it may be interesting. I need to make a new experience and this place doesn’t seem bad. I have a feeling.” You smiled, politely.

“A feeling? I hope it’s a good one.” He asked, smiling back.

“Yes, a very good one but it’s only a feeling, anything scientific, I’ll see.” You answered, looking at him with a curious expression on your face and the Commander nodded and he hoped you could share your feeling with him one of these days, maybe it would make brighter his gloomy days on this station.

.

✯ Julian Bashir  ✯

It was a day like any other on the space station called Deep Space Nine and you were relaxing in solitude and boredom. Maybe you were not really relaxing.

Certainly a little company would be pleasing now, because you felt so alone, you arrived here recently and you had not made friends with anyone yet.

Just when your hopes were disappearing, evaporating like the steam coming out of the hot drink you were drinking, someone seemed to have listened to your social desire.

"Is this place free?" A gentle voice asked, then you looked up, seeing the owner of the voice. He was a dark-haired young man with a friendly and cheerful expression on his face.

You greeted him with a surprised look, shaking your head at his request.

"Not anymore. Good morning!” You told him, watching his smile went wide.

“Morning, my name is Julian.” He said without losing his bright smile not even one time and, somehow, it was contagious because you could not stop smiling, too.

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.” you introduced yourself, sipping your hot beverage.

“It’s always beautiful seeing new faces, especially as beautiful as yours, Y/N.” he said, flirting but you did not find him annoying, his way was kind and gallant.

“Thank you! I think I’ll enjoy the time in this station.” You said, finding him too nice to deny.

Then you and Julian started talking about this and that and you found out he was the medical officer of Deep Space 9.

Interesting, you thought, maybe you would meet him again. You were definitely meeting him again.

.

✯  Kira Nerys  ✯

You were not really a bad person but sometimes you were forced to do some innocent little criminal acts. You had to be bad.

Yours were not real dangerous or violent actions because you would not have hurt a fly but they were certainly not honourable things to do. Someone would have defined your actions as pranks or just the beginning of a bloodiest criminal life. Points of view.

The first officer was walking towards her quarters when she saw you running away, you ran in her direction.

In the background there were the screams of an angry and worried ferengi, "Someone took that thief. They stole my gold! Where's that useless Odo when you need him? "Quark said jumping and screaming at the top of his lungs.

His screams reached Kira's ears, and she did not hesitate to intervene, blocking you and she hit you with a martial art movement.

You hit the ground, the gold nuggets you held in your hands were rolling down on the path and you did not even have time to realize what was happening that Kira grabbed you by force, looking at you with hostility.

"What were you doing with that gold, eh?" She asked, arresting you.

"They were stealing it! An honest man can’t even work in peace without risking to be robbed, such a shame. Seems there's nothing sacred anymore." Quark appeared from nowhere, speaking with his disgusted tone of voice. Then he collected the gold nuggets from the ground, caressing them as if they were his children.

"Why? That’s what he was doing, you should arrest him, too. I'm not a thief!” You screamed, trying to free yourself but the woman was too strong.

"Shut up, let's go" Kira said, dragging you towards the prisons.

“Yes, put them in a cell and throw away the key!” Quark said, laughing and mocking you.

You looked at him with hate, following the woman who walked proud and angry because she did not expect her day could be ruined by a good-for-nothing thief like you.

You just hoped this day would end soon.

.

✯  Jadzia Dax  ✯

You were a very curious and smart scientist, and nothing got past you.

How could a charming and intelligent woman like her eluding your eyes? It was impossible.

You were not interested in her beauty, actually, but to something else. Something much more surprising and fascinating, namely her nature. She was such an interesting alien, she was different from the others. She hid countless secrets, perhaps more ancient than the universe itself.

"Jadzia Dax." Just whispering her name made you euphoric.

You had to know her. You had to meet that woman and discover all her secrets, the enigmas of her innumerable lives. Maybe she was just an object of study for you, the curiosity of a scientist, but you could not say that you were not attracted by her. A form of life so fascinating and complex, a Trill, new wonders to explore.

Then you decided to approach her, greeting her with a smile and asking her if you could take a place.

“Can I?” you said with a calm and serious voice even if you were exulting inside.

“Of course.” She said, politely and then she kept reading her PAD and you kept observing her.

You did not care if she was ignoring you, it was still surprising, you were still able to observe her closely. You could count every single stain on her skin and the movements of her eyes while she was reading. This was enchanting but not enough.

Then you started sipping your cup of tea, looking in another direction just not to look like a sort of freak or a maniac.

In that moment, when you were distracted, Dax stopped reading. She looked at you. She smiled, placing her eyes on her digital book one more time.  

.

✯  Odo  ✯

You were living a bad time, another broken heart and new broken promises. The beautiful lies and the horrible truths, you should be used to this now. You should but you never learned from your mistakes just like the ferengi on the other side of the bar. He was taking advantage of your broken heart because the broken people were the most vulnerable, they were too busy crying and so they did not count the money in their pockets. Quark was here to help, to support you and he wanted to be paid handsomely for it.

Surely, one more glass would be helpful and you would have paid him later and when you were sober, he was not so bad, he could wait, he did not forget but for his money, he was patient.

"Come on, drink it more. Let the alcohol console you, it's the only friend here that you have because we’re born alone and we’ll die alone.” Quark spoke, he always knew the right things to say, even if it was the worst thing he could say and at the worst moment but your mind was too busy thinking about horrible thoughts to pay attention to his words and so you nodded, giving him your glass.

"What's going on here? Why is your silly bar still open?” A voice Quark knew very well, the one he did not want to hear, spoke.

The Ferengi snorted, "Ah, business never sleep, but how would you know about it?" He said to Odo, and then Quark filled your glass, "Here, drink, and drown your sorrows in alcohol." And fill my wallets as well, Quark thought, snickering.

Odo looked at you, you were crying and he realized that the ferengi was taking advantage of your weakness, evidently, you were having a hard time and this crook had no mercy for anyone.

"Now you make people cry?” Odo said, looking at you with his severe expression.

“No, they’re crying for other reasons, I just help.” Quark said, with a false innocent tone of voice.

“Helping them to get sick? The party is over, and you should come back to your quarters…” Odo stopped, “What’s your name?” he asked you.

“My name is Y/N…” you said, sighing.

“Ok, Y/N, go back to your quarters! This place at night is not safe.” He ordered you.

“Yes, it’s not safe if bad guys like you walking around to ruin other’s life.” Quark complained but Odo ignored him.

Then you tried to stand up but you were unable to walk alone. You took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do anything right, can I?” you looked at Odo, memorizing his face, you did not know him but, somehow, you trusted him, he seemed an honest person.

“You’ve more chances to change than someone else.” Odo said, looking at Quark.

“Thank you.” you said and then you came back to your quarters.

The moment you looked at Odo so intensively, he could read the sadness in your eyes, he understood you were not a bad person, since you were only broken apart.

Odo followed you from afar because he thought it was not safe to let you walk alone during the night, you were drunk and some other people could take advantage of you because any place was totally safe here. This was his duty, after all.

[hailcyeon]

hiraeth | 04

Pairing: Jaehwan x Reader Genre: Sci-Fi, Royal AU Word count: 4.9k Warnings: Mild cursing

There is no flash of realization or prophetic moment once you’ve made your triumphant return to your homeland. 

The train is still and the compartment is dark.

Satisfied that you're awake, Jaehwan straightens and begins to gather your bags. Alarmed, you bolt upright.

“What's going on?” You immediately begin to shove your feet back into your boots, confused by his haste.

“There are Swords on the train, we're getting off here.” Jaehwan kneels again to help you with your packing, as your hands have suddenly gotten very shaky.

There are Swords on the train. Swords, capital S. Royal guards sworn in service of the king, likely out for your blood.

“How do you know? How are they here?” The panic crawls up your throat, choking your breath.

Jaehwan takes your hand and pulls you to your feet. “All very good questions for later.” He slings his shoulder bag across his back and takes your suitcase in hand. Signaling you to wait a moment, he peeks out the door to the hallway.

Motioning for you to come along, he swiftly opens the door and strides down the hall to the nearest exit. Bags in tow, the two of you step out into cool night air. The platform is largely quiet, manned by a skeleton crew of overnight attendants guiding the few passengers off to their destinations.

Jaehwan wastes no time looking around and immediately heads for the exit, making you scramble to keep up. The platform is raised high above the city, and the two of you take a long staircase down to street level. Jaehwan easily takes the steps two at a time in his hurry, but your descent is not quite as graceful as you run after him.

Once on the street, he quickly scans the signs, apparently looking for a particular direction. The streets are similarly still. When in Armistice you’d occasionally see tourists and party-goers wandering around until the early hours of the morning, here the only glimpses of life are a couple of passed out panhandlers and the fluorescent glow from a 24-hour diner. Hands on hips, you bend over slightly to catch your breath. Your patience is admittedly running rather thin, and you have to try not to yell.

“Where exactly are we?”

“The Tuvan Republic. This city’s called Douvarak,” Jaehwan mutters in response. “There's a car rental around here somewhere.”

You tense a bit, realizing you’re many, many kilometers away from Asadal, with the king’s lapdogs after you. You’re not quite sure how long it is to the border or how to get there, and you feel a sense of dread settle over your skin at the thought of relying on a man you’ve really only just met.

Jaehwan apparently decides on a direction and starts walking again, grabbing your hand to make sure you're following. You slip your hand out from his grasp, but keep pace with his, walking quickly to match his long strides.

“And where exactly are we going?”

“I told you, car rental,” he responds smoothly.

You roll your eyes in annoyance at his non-answer. “Where are we going? I thought the train was the plan. Can you even drive?”

Jaehwan seems amused at your rapid-fire speech. “What, you don't trust me?” he asks, grinning.

“I barely know you,” you respond, adjusting your backpack, calves burning from the walk. “I trust Hakyeon. For the most part.”

“Well, call this one of Hakyeon's contingencies.”

You're skeptical, but follow along quietly, casting a wary eye to the few other passersby. A couple more streets later you arrive at a large car park. The lights are off in the attendant’s booth, but thankfully there seems to be an automated kiosk.

Jaehwan inserts the so-called royal card and swipes through the options. You stand idly by, tapping your foot impatiently.

“How do you know the Swords were on the train?” You're still confused and more than a little irritated at how in the dark you are.

“Saw them,” Jaehwan says, not looking up from the screen. “They must have boarded sometime before this stop. You fell asleep, so I was checking the halls.”

The kiosk makes a series of beeping noises and spits out a small key fob with several buttons on it. Grabbing it, Jaehwan starts walking to the long rows of parked cars.

“You recognized them?” You follow along, brows furrowed.

He nods in answer, still scanning for the right car. “They definitely work for the king. They were peeking into the compartments, searching for you, I assume.” He apparently finds it, sleek and silver, and taps the driver's side door with the key fob. The lights turn on with a beep and the doors unlock.

You toss the bags into the back, still processing this information. The immediate panic has drained away, leaving you tired and with an uneasy feeling in your stomach.

The two of you slide in, and Jaehwan starts the car, the engine nearly silent. You had never actually learned to drive, relying on public transport, and you could count the number of people you know with a car on one hand. The interior is all leather and twinkling indicator lights.

You're chewing on your bottom lip, lost in thought as Jaehwan pulls out of the lot. The dashboard clock tells you that it's a little after four in the morning, almost a full day after you originally left home. A sinking thought occurs to you as you’re mulling over the predicament.

“Do you think something happened to Hakyeon?” you ask quietly. “Is that how they found out about me?”

Jaehwan’s brows are furrowed as he fiddles with the on-board navigation. He shakes his head. “I don't know. He instructed me not to contact him while getting you home, just in case it's traced.”

This does nothing to assuage your fears, and it must show, because Jaehwan offers you a smile.

“Don't worry about Hakyeon,” he says soothingly. “He's survived in court this long, he can take care of himself.”

You shake your head, staring out at the darkened road. “Nothing about this feels right. Not coming back, not Hakyeon's hare-brained ideas.”

“Then why are you here?” Jaehwan looks at you sidelong, and while his tone isn't accusatory, you still feel a little defensive.

“I don't have to justify myself to you,” you respond, trying not to sound petulant. Nothing about this is right. But Hakyeon is your cousin, and the only person you have still considered to be family.

“Understood,” Jaehwan says just as petulant, drawing out the syllables.

You try to bite it back, but his childish whine makes you smile. Jaehwan has this annoying ability to make you smile against your will, and you’re getting used to it too quickly for your liking.

It's quiet as the car turns onto the highway. The navigation built into the center console glows in muted blues and browns, illustrating your route through the unfamiliar country. Douvarak falls away to dark plains with a silver river running through, dotted in the distance with faint glows of more cities you can’t name. Geography was never your strong suit.

“How did you recognize the men on the train?” you ask, trying to fill the silence.

“They’re a couple of my old squad mates.” His tone is nonchalant, but you bristle in alarm.

“You’re one of them?” Your voice is low but you can't help the whine of panic in your mind. “You’re in the king’s special forces?”

“Was,” Jaehwan clarifies. “Past tense.”

“Why would you join the Swords?” The revelation casts a shadow on all your interactions with Jaehwan, as you're constantly reminded that you really don't know this man. You glance quickly, stupidly, to the locked door and the rushing scenery, the car feeling more and more like a trap. “How do I know you're not working for the king?”

He's unfazed by your distress, eyes trained on the road in front. “I thought you trusted Hakyeon?”

“My cousin isn't infallible.” You inspect the man in the driver's seat as best you can in the low light. Between his bleach-blond hair, messy from travel and growing out at the roots, and his casual dress of a black turtleneck and leather jacket, he doesn't strike you as one of the king's goons. You're now becoming quite used to his full lips being curled in an easy smile, eyes crinkled in laughter, but looks could be deceiving.

“You have nothing to fear from me, Princess,” he says, making an awkward salute with one hand. “I am your gallant knight in shining armor, dutifully saving you from the bad guys.” He giggles at his own impression, and you scowl in response.

“I asked you not to call me ‘Princess’,” you mutter, turning away to stare out your window. The title makes your skin crawl with anxiety.

Jaehwan sighs. “You're insistent you're not a princess, but I don't know what else to call a young lady of the royal family.” His playful tone strikes a nerve.

“I lost my crown years ago.” You don't mean to adopt as harsh a voice as you do, but you're talking partially to yourself now, gripping the leather of your seat with a tense hand. “I lost my family, I lost the throne, I lost everything.” They washed away in the waters of the river and you came out a different person.

Jaehwan has nothing to say in response, and you allow the silence and memories to lull you into a fitful sleep.

Dawn breaks a rainy gray as you pass through the border into official Asadali territory. There is no flash of realization or prophetic moment once you’ve made your triumphant return to your homeland. In fact, were it not for the copious signage welcoming you to the Kingdom of Asadal and the immigration control booths in the distance, this could be any stretch of dirt in the world.

While the Tuvan Republic rolls into Gwasong Province in cracked earth and distant mountains, your heart thuds faster and faster at the encroaching guard houses. The king has clearly been looking for you, and you’re terrified to find out what’s waiting for you. To your surprise and mild bafflement, nothing really happens, the two of you passing through with little more than a flash of Jaehwan's ID to a bored guard. At the very least the usual border security should have checked the car. Most nations had adopted open border policies nowadays, but you'd expected even a modicum of inspection. You idly mention as such to Jaehwan, who doesn't respond immediately, but just keeps driving with a faraway look in his eyes.

Jaehwan has veered off the official highway onto a lesser traveled back road some ten minutes later before he answers. “The border guards have been recalled by the king. The auxiliary guards are under the magistrate’s control, and right now they’re tied up protecting his properties and business.”

You furrow your brows, confused and disturbed by your uncle’s actions and the irresponsibility of the magistrate. “I don’t understand. Since when is Magistrate Maeda a businessman and since when does he use state resources for his own things?”

“Magistrate Maeda no longer governs Gwasong. Magistrate Shin took over nearly seven years ago. He owns and operates a spring water bottling company.”

Even more confusing. “Okay . . . what happened to Magistrate Maeda?”

“Dead.” Jaehwan doesn’t elaborate but your nightmares fill in the blanks for you.

“So there hasn’t been proper government presence in these areas?” You didn't know what you'd find back in your homeland, but anarchy certainly isn't it.

Jaehwan scoffs in a darkened impression of the laughter you're getting used to. “Oh, the king makes his presence very clear. When there are taxes to collect or a protest to shut down. But he doesn't really care who comes in through here or what the magistrate does.” What little humor there is leaves his face as he continues. “The Capital is a different story.”

“Will we have trouble getting in?” you ask, alarmed further.

He shakes his head. “Hakyeon made arrangements. We're supposed to go around to the mountains instead of using the river,” he explains, but you hear the uncertainty in his voice.

You decide you need to have a serious talk with your cousin about his masterminding your life. Everything about his plans feels like a gamble to you. You don't remember him being this much of a risk-taker, which leads you think he must truly be desperate.

The traffic very slowly increases as you travel through Gwasong. Jaehwan sticks to the local roads, staying off the more-traveled highways and taking you through more rural towns. Royal tours in your childhood generally stuck to the major cities, so it’s with an intense curiosity that you watch the passing scenery. There’s not a lot you remember of the provinces beyond the stereotypes that any child grows up with and the cursory notes from your civics tutor. Northerners talk weird and drink their tea too sweet, in the south the people don’t get anything done before noon. You remember your mother always wanting to visit the tea gardens in Gwasong.

It gets more crowded the closer you are to the inner belt. The provinces circling the Capital are smaller, but much more densely populated, making Jaehwan’s route trickier as he tries to avoid the larger towns. He peers at the navigation, yawning and blinking rapidly to clear his eyes. You’ve been skirting around one of the larger cities in Seochon Province for the past hour, blending into the local traffic.

“What’s that?”

You cringe at your own breaking of the heavy silence that had settled between the two of you, but your curiosity outweighs the tension in this moment.

“What’s what?” Jaehwan is almost too focused on the road, in his own world.

You straighten from where you’d been slumped against the window. “The tents. Why are there so many tents?”

You’re followed along on your side of the road by an elevated train platform. Woven between base of the pillars are numerous tents, some of them haphazardly reinforced with cardboard and scraps of sheet metal. The structures remind you of the footage from various music festivals, but the people shuffling about certainly aren’t trendy teenagers. They’re a motley combination of people, from old men and women to small children running about. It’s hard to tear your eyes away from the small pop-up village as you’re stopped at a red light, watching the people take shelter from the rain under the platform and huddle around the scattered campfires.

“Refugees,” comes Jaehwan’s reply to your left.

“We have refugees?” You narrow your eyes as the light turns green and the scene fades away. Did you miss a war while in exile? “When did we take in refugees?”

“We didn’t. They’re from Minami Province probably. Maybe Namsu.”

These are citizens? Your eyes narrow further. “Why are they here? And not in shelters or something?”

Jaehwan exhales a long breath and glances at you. “Your uncle's made life difficult for a lot of people. Unfortunately everyone can’t have a prince cousin to help them out.”

You grit your teeth, his words hitting you like an accusation. “I didn’t ask for—” You stop yourself abruptly, feeling like you've taken some sort of bait. “Regardless. They should be in proper housing.”

“That they should.” Jaehwan has the smallest of smiles on his face which splits into a mighty yawn. He rubs at his eyes briefly and sniffs, readjusting his grip on the wheel. “It isn't up to us, unfortunately. The northern provinces have little interest in caring for a bunch of strays, as it is.”

Staring out at the wet road ahead and contemplating what you’ve just seen, your anxiety climbs a notch. You’re no stranger to seeing people in poverty, spending so many years in the world’s largest city, but seeing it at home is a rough shock, especially in comparison to your gilded childhood. Each question Jaehwan answers produces a dozen more as you’re realizing there’s so much going on in the kingdom you’ve missed during your uncle’s reign. This is probably a conversation best saved for your cousin, among many others. It’s been countless hours since the comforts of your cozy little apartment and you’re both physically and mentally exhausted.

Jaehwan isn't fond of stopping on long drives, it seems. Or maybe he's anxious to get you back to Hakyeon, you think. Whichever it is, he hasn't stopped driving since the Tuvan Republic, and somewhere around his fourth yawn in under half an hour you feel something resembling guilt. It has absolutely nothing to do with the general hostility you've been displaying toward him thus far, you reason, and everything to do with your overbearing cousin and his tendency to order people about. Whatever the source of your sudden concern, a pause would do you both some good.

“Maybe we could stop for a little bit, grab some coffee.”

Jaehwan shakes his head at your suggestion. “This isn't the kind of place to be stopping.”

“Not safe enough for my big, bad bodyguard?” you say, glancing at him sidelong. You're not exactly itching to get captured by royal guards or whatever the danger may be, but being cooped up like this is rough on your patience.

He lets out a mirthless chuckle for your benefit. “Something like that.”

You frown. Nothing about the locale seems outwardly dangerous to you, the charms of dirty city streets aside. Perhaps a change in strategy is required. “I could super use a walk to stretch my legs and a bathroom break. Do I need to pull the ‘Princess’ card?”

“Hey!” whines Jaehwan, an affronted pout on his lips. “You can't tell me not to call you that and then pull rank, that's unfair.”

“Or I could just tell Hakyeon you were mean to me.” You feel silly, with your arms crossed and tongue sticking out at Jaehwan, threatening him with the wrath of your cousin. But it's kind of nice to feel silly.

If nothing else, it gets Jaehwan to laugh properly for the first time in a little while, which oddly makes you feel better. You're expecting a clever retort, but he rewards your endeavors a few minutes later by pulling into a charging station. Sandwiched between a fenced-in empty lot and a rusty warehouse, it isn’t the nicest of service areas you’ve been in.

There are no attendants, so Jaehwan gets out and sets about plugging the stall’s charging cable to the car himself. You hobble out of the car awkwardly, trying to massage some feeling back into your legs and taking a few experimental steps forward. The streets are busy in the middle of the day, even here in the outskirts of the city. There’s a guy idling against his own car, an older model and rather beat-up looking, a few stalls over, while a steady stream of pedestrians file in and out of the attached convenience store. You stalk around to Jaehwan’s side, watching as he fastens the cable lock and slides in the credit card.

“Does the recharge take long?” you ask with genuine curiosity. You really don’t have a lot of experience with cars, much less the upkeep of one.

Jaehwan smiles and shakes his head. “Nah, these modern superchargers are pretty good at cutting down recharge time. We also haven’t used too much of the battery so far. We’ve got, maybe, ten minutes?”

You shrug. “Sure. We’ll be in and out.” You wrinkle your nose at your surroundings and frown. “The way you went on about it, I thought there’d be guards all over the place.”

“There’s more than just the king to be afraid of.”

With another shrug, you start heading toward the store, figuring you can at least kill some time finding lunch. The rain has let up since you entered Asadal, but you’re still thankful for the canopy overhead protecting you from the drizzle. Arms wrapped around yourself for warmth, you’re lost in thought when you feel a tap on your shoulder. Immediately, Jaehwan is there, with a hand on your back putting himself between you and a bedraggled stranger. You’re startled by the sudden appearance of a man to your left who has his hand awkwardly in the air. By the look of his worn jacket and unshaven face, you can tell he’s probably been on the streets for a while now.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” the man trails off, wide eyes taking in Jaehwan’s imposing presence. “I was hoping you kids might have some spare change?”

You open your mouth to answer, but before you can gently turn him down, Jaehwan has pushed you through the automatic doors to the store. You whirl around angrily, watching the man walk away to a corner of the lot.

“What was that about? He just wanted some change.”

“Best not to talk to strangers, you know?” Jaehwan says with a quirk of his mouth.

The frown is heavy on your lips as you stare him down. “I don’t appreciate being pushed around.”  

Jaehwan holds your gaze, looking down at you with an even smile. “I’m only here on orders from your very pushy cousin to keep you safe and deliver you home.”

And with those words as reminder, the fight leaves you in one fell swoop. For all his friendliness and jokes, Jaehwan is just here on behalf of Hakyeon. You sniff and turn on your heel, finding yourself unable to come up with an appropriate response. Bathroom break it is, then.

To your dismay, you're once again being followed to the bathrooms toward the very back of the store, and before you can utter your complaints, Jaehwan fixes you with a stern look.

“We're in Asadal now, I can't let you out of my sight.” When you raise an eyebrow and point to the sign that says Women, he grimaces and corrects himself. “So to speak.”

Rolling your eyes, you leave him awkwardly standing next to the bathroom. Questionably cleaned stalls aside, you’re grateful to not be stuck in the car, even if it’s for a little bit. When you return, Jaehwan is leaning up against one of the beverage coolers, head tilted back and eyes closed. With his hair falling ever so daintily over his eyes, you'd almost find him attractive if you weren't so annoyed at him.

With a huff, you rush past to the little sandwich counter. You order two coffees and some sandwiches from the bored looking teenager manning the register, paying for them yourself before Jaehwan has the chance to pull out the royal credit card.

You push a coffee and a sandwich into Jaehwan's hands, noting that he's been watching you with a look of amusement.

“Can't get me to my pushy cousin if you die of starvation,” you grumble, leaving for the car. You hear him laugh as he follows you, and without meaning to it makes you feel a little better in a way. You're halfway to the charging stalls when you realize the man from before is still in his corner, sitting on a milk crate by himself. Without really thinking about it, you start walking toward him.

“Princess.” Jaehwan has a hand wrapped around your wrist and a warning in his eyes.

You meet his gaze, unflinching. “Jaehwan. Please.” It kills you to ask for any sort of permission, but you won't be able to sleep again for a while if you do nothing.

He releases you, expressionless and waiting. You turn back and approach the stranger who doesn't notice you with his lapels turned up against the breeze.

“Excuse me?” The man doesn’t immediately look up, so you clear your throat and try again. “Um, sir?”

His head snaps up as he meets your eyes with his own bloodshot ones. He cracks open a smile to reveal yellowed teeth, one of the upper canines missing. “The girl from before! What can I help you with?”

You hold out your coffee and sandwich, which he immediately takes from you. “It’s not money,” you start hesitantly, watching as he quickly unwraps the sandwich. “But I figured you could use a meal.”

He nods, gulping down two bites of the sandwich faster than you can believe. “Thank you, miss,” he gasps between swallows.

The man doesn’t bother saying anything else, as busy as he is with his morsel. You give him an awkward nod and turn back to the car. Jaehwan is already seated, watching you with mild interest. You plop down with a sigh, caught off guard when Jaehwan hands you half his own sandwich.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

You settle into your seat as Jaehwan scarfs down the sandwich one handed, eager to get back on the road. You nibble on your half more slowly, pensive.

“No.” You shrug, not sure what to say as justification. “I just felt bad. And you didn’t have to treat him like a threat. The guy was just hungry.”

Jaehwan sighs almost patronizingly. “Desperate people can easily become threats. The migrants hang around major cities, displaced and unemployed. A lot of them turn to less savory methods to get by.”

You frown deeply as the two of you return to the road. You’re so tired, and this entire experience is so surreal. You just wanted to get by with your mediocre corporate job, doing your best to blend into the life of everyday people. And then Hakyeon came and ruined it all and saddled you with this man who unsettles you in the strangest way.

“You were a Sword,” you say, more to yourself than anything else. You wonder how your cousin came to be such good friends with one of the King’s guards that he’d entrust your safety to him.

Jaehwan is quiet for the time being, focusing on his route through the city. It's midday now in Seochon on the western edge of the inner belt, and the streets are busy with travelers. Despite blending into the stream of cars and trucks, a part of you still feels like you're being watched.

“I was, at a time,” he answers finally.

“Not an easy position to get.” The formal, stuffy title, the Crown’s Swordsmen and Guards, belies the tough nature of the royal family’s personal armed forces. You remember your father's own guard team, all made up of grizzly men of the Swords. It's hard to picture Jaehwan among them.

“No, it's not,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips. At your continued staring, Jaehwan shrugs and elaborates. “I didn't know what to do with my life. My brothers already had the family business handled, and no one really expected anything of me. So,” he continues, “I applied to military school and then joined the Swords.” He grins and adds, “My mom nearly had a heart attack.”

“But you left?”

He nods. “Military life wasn't really for me, at the end of the day. I did some private security for a while, but then Hakyeon called with a favor to ask and now I'm here.”

“Lucky me.” You're not sure if you mean this to be sarcastic or not, but Jaehwan grins and glances at you.

“Lucky you.”

You get to the guard houses surrounding the Capital by nightfall. Swinging around to the western mountains flanking the city rather than crossing the Yuseong River had added several hours to your trip, but Jaehwan assured that it was all part of the plan. You repeat this to yourself in the tunnel through the mountains in an attempt to calm your nerves, but it does little to help in the face of the encroaching city. Jaehwan exudes a stillness that seems relaxed, but you can tell his jaw is clenched, grip tight on the steering wheel as the city walls approach. The glittering lights and buildings loom above you, but you're focused mostly on how different it all seems from what you remember. You didn't spend a lot of time in the city proper, mostly having lived at Starfall Palace outside the city, but it all feels so much bigger and more expansive to you now.

Jaehwan pulls up to the gate, which opens automatically on approach. The walls are a beautiful polished stone, thick and several stories high, but you can see the various cameras and security devices embedded into them. You're idly wondering if they looked like this in your father's time when the gates shut behind you. The front is also closed off, obviously to allow for inspection of the arrivals, but it gives you the unsettling feeling of being in a cage.

A security officer steps out from the booth to side, speaking through Jaehwan's open window. “Identification, please.”

Jaehwan pulls out his ID card and hands it over, then reaches into a pocket inside his jacket to pull out some folded papers. “I also have with me a foreign national. Her paperwork has been approved by the prince.”

The guard unfolds the documents, which you realize have a copy of your Armistice ID on them. You'd be alarmed at how Hakyeon had gotten his hands on that if you were not currently so nervous. The guard returns to his booth to scan Jaehwan's ID and your papers, and you're doing your best to remember to breathe. To your immense relief, the gates open, and the guard returns to hand back the items.

“Please enjoy your stay in the Capital.”

Jaehwan thanks the guard and makes to drive off when the guard ducks down to look through the window directly at you with a beatific smile.

“And welcome back, Princess.”

[clairebeauchampfan]

“Goodbye-ee!  Goodbye-ee! Wipe the tear, baby dear, from your eye-ee. Though it's hard to part I know, (I know) I'll be tickled to death to go! Don't cry-ee, don't sigh-ee, There's a silver lining in the sky-ee! Bonsoir old thing, cheerio, chin-chin, Nah-poo, toodle-oo, goodbye-ee!”

Another day, another extreme shipper gone, it seems. I miss them when they go. Their unconscious irony, the touching naivete, the credulity, their desperate hope that somewhere, at the end of the rainbow, the romance we imagine in our deepest hearts, the ideal love we all longed for when we were young and innocent,  might turn out once,  just frigging once, to be real. Oh, cruel, cruel Cupid, who gives us hope, only to snatch it away. 

You have to laugh, or else you’d surely cry. How could so many  intelligent (some with PhD’s!), amusing, witty women, some genuinely funny at times, allow themselves to be so comprehensively gulled by their fellow shippers, I mean, gas-lit by Sam and Cait? It’s a wonder. Truly. 

Others gallant shippers, now sadly disillusioned,  are still clinging on to the  ship ‘for friendship’s sake’, and for indeed for those unfortunate women who might be suffering  from depression, or are trapped at home by kids or family circumstance, or stuck in a no-hope job or in a toxic relationship...or perhaps worse, no relationship at all (or vice versa, depending on how you see it) the SC ship must have proven to be a lifeline. Kindred spirits, a meeting of minds...isn’t that what most us us would give our eye teeth to have?

No wonder so many friendships have been formed at fandom meets. 

I just wish that so much of shipperdom hadn’t descended into this horrid  hate fest against  the women who burst their bubble, Caitriona Balfe and Mackenzie Mauzy (and Abbie and Uncle Tom Cobley and all). The  blogs of what can only be described as the toxic shippers have been vicious, mean and spiteful, and prone to borderline psychotic rage whenever Sam, Cait, Tony, Mackenzie or a dozen cast and crew members have  said or done anything that rocks the boat.  So great is their hatred for Caitriona that it now extends to mocking her acting skills, every Sunday morning, (forehead sex! folded arms!)  and some have  even accused Starz of having ‘bought’  her GG nomination. Such churls!

Yes, on reflection, Caitriona could undoubtedly have handled things better; IFH, EFH....a lexicon of acronyms. (As we say here of our Kings and Queens who make mistakes, they were ‘badly advised’.)

But there it is; Cait’s apparently engaged to Tony, lucky chap, and the ship is surely going down.  There’s  nothing left to do but wish Cait and her declared fiance  every happiness, and  hope that Sam finds happiness too, with or without the beautiful maiden from North Carolina.  That’s  the right thing to do, surely? I mean, we all know that, right? No matter how ‘hurt’ or ‘disappointed’ we are. Yes? 

[Unless the sisters from Brazil are right after all, in which case a fair few of us doubters will have egg all over our faces - but will probably at the same time be again very, very happy, for is there an anti who never once was a SamCait shipper? For my part I still, shipped them, in a small way ]

                                  *  *   *

Talking of Queens, one extreme shipper has finally changed her avatar title to a new name, apparently  suggested by her best mate in honour of her new ship. Would it be churlish of me to wonder if the ‘R’ is silent, like the ‘P’ in Beauchamp? Bad, bad person, CBF. Wash your mouth out with soap, this instant. Remember your age!

But then I never could forgive that ‘fan’  for calling Caitriona a ‘scheming bitch’, yet still using her name to head up her blog. 

Karma. That’s what it is. Karma. 

Blinski would have been better. Or Kras’n’blunt.

Now that’s a good name.  Should I adopt it myself? 

#deserting a sinking ship

[theroyalweisme]

Duties of a Prince - Chapter 18 - Leo x Liam x MC

A little AU of what would have happened at Leo’s fling before the social season to determine his bride kicks off.

Rating: For mature audiences… language and themes as the story continues.

(A RoE and TRR Crossover)

Summary:

Two brothers who couldn’t be more different if they tried. One out to be the life of the party. The other understanding both of they’re roles and determined to fulfill them all. But what happens when they fall for the same girl?

MASTER CHAPTER LIST

tagging: @youwontlikewherewewillgo @chrstbll @pens-girl-87 @xxrainbowprincessxx @queencatherynerhys @syltti78 @boneandfur @ranishajay @blackcatkita @trianiasti @bobasheebaby @pbchoicesobsessed @madaraism @umccall71 @hamulau @drakelover78 @crookedslimecreatorpasta @jlouise88 @furiousherringoperatortoad

Permatags: @mfackenthal @enmchoices @captainkingliam @alwaysthebestchoice

Liam sat comfortably behind the large oak desk at the end of his office, his best friend Drake poised on the chair across from him. Both men holding crystal tumblers in their hands.

“How’re things going with Sabrina?” Drake asked, crossing his ankle over his knee. Liam huffed deeply as he sipped the amber liquid in his glass.

“Between Olivia and my father I’m honestly shocked she’s still here.” He watched the swirling liquid.

“So... what’s your plan, Liam?” Drake’s voice pulled him out of his deep thoughts. What is my plan? His thoughts plagued him as his eyes met his best friend’s.

“I don’t know...” he whispered. “What would you do, Drake?”

The young man pushed the air from his lungs, his dark eyebrows raising into his hairline before looking at his friend.

“Well... you definitely need to have a conversation with Livvy,” he took a sip from his tumbler as Liam flinched. “And you probably want to pull back from your responsibilities. You know, free up some time to be with your woman and all.”

“Well...” he mused thinking about the week he had ahead of him. “My week is quiet after the Regatta tomorrow. Perhaps I could arrange to take Sabrina to Applewood for a few days...”

“Perfect! An empty manor... beautiful scenery... she won’t be able to resist,” Drake grinned, pushing himself off of the chair in front of his friend. “Talk to Livvy before the Regatta.”

Liam groaned loudly at the mere thought of the next conversation he needed to have.

—

“Livvy?” His soft voice cut through her concentration, causing the redhead to place the novel she was reading politely on her lap.

“Your Highness,” she smiled up at him, her green eyes shining brightly at him. “What can I do for you this beautiful morning?”

“Would you oblige me in a walk around the grounds?” He bowed gently towards the redhead before offering her his arm. Her smile grew as she moved the book to an end table before rising from the couch and accepting Liam’s arm.

“What do I owe this pleasure, Liam?” She carefully asked as he led her from the library and out into the courtyard.

“I needed to talk to you, Olivia,” he sighed, their slow steps taking them around the palace.

“Of course,” Olivia chewed nervously on her lower lip. This wasn’t her Liam in front of her. This was Prince Liam, cold… reserved. “You know you can always talk to me.”

“This is a topic I don’t want to have to talk to you about,” her anxiety peeked as his dark blue eyes met her own green ones. “Olivia, what happened the night of the ball?”

Olivia’s jaw dropped at his question, causing the pair to stop in the middle of the gardens. Her mouth worked for a few minutes before she was able to form any sort of thought.

“Whatever do you mean, Liam?” She held her hand to her chest, shaking her head. “I told you then what had happened. That American beast attacked me. I was simply minding my own business when suddenly I was on my knees with my arm breaking behind my back.”

Liam raised his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, his eyes closing tightly against a headache threatening his sanity.

“You know…” his voice was far away as his eyes opened and the hand dropped. “Bastien taught me this really cool move once. In order to keep someone from hurting you, themselves, or someone else; you take their arm and bend it in just the right way behind their back. Leo and I must have practiced that on each other for months.”

He chuckled softly at the memory, purposefully not looking at the woman next to him. She sighed deeply, hanging her head gently.

“I was the aggressor…” she whispered so softly Liam had to strain to hear her.

“What was that?” He craned his ear towards her, a soft growl exiting her throat.

“I was the aggressor!” She cried, her hands balling into fists at her side. “The American didn’t start it. I did.”

Liam nodded before starting his walk again. He was about thirty steps from her before she rushed forwards to catch up to him.

“You’re not going to yell at me?” She asked softly, ashamed of the actions she took that night.

“No, Olivia, I’m not,” his gaze didn’t move from a spot in front of him. “I do ask that you apologize to Sabrina though.”

“Wha?” She stopped in her tracks. Did he actually suggest that she apologize? Her? Olivia Nevarkis? “My apologies… I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

“You embarrassed her. You made her look like an aggressor. And you put me in a horrible situation.” Liam reasoned as he finally stopped and turned towards her. “The least you could do is apologize for your actions. I’ve already done so myself.”

“You can’t be serious, Liam!” She cried, her eyes welling with tears.

“Quite serious, Livvy,” He nodded, his dark eyes cold and hard. “Sabrina and I will be attending the Regatta tomorrow. I’d suggest you do it there. I can arrange for the two of you to have supervised privacy.”

Olivia’s posture slumped with acquiescence.

“After the Regatta I’m going to take Sabrina to Applewood for a few days. I’d suggest you take that time to prepare Lythikos for the court…” Liam’s eyes softened as she slowly raised her gaze to his. “You’re one of my best friends, Livvy. I don’t expect you to love Sabrina. But I do expect you to treat her with respect.”

“Of course, Liam,” she whispered as he grazed her cheek with his thumb.

“Come on,” he gave her his first earnest smile of the day. “Let’s finish our walk.”

She nodded easily, her own smile playing on her lips as she, once again, took his offered arm and continued their slow walk around the yard.

--

Liam threaded his fingers through Sabrina’s stopping her hand from pulling at her skirt for the thirtieth time in the past five minutes.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered into her ear before kissing the back of the hand he had captured. “Stop fretting.”

“Easy for you to say,” she grumbled, using the hand tied to Killer’s leash to fuss with the waistband of her skirt. “You’re not the foreigner trying to steal the love of a prince.”

Liam chuckled softly against the back of her hand before placing another kiss on it, earning a steely glare from his step-mother. Sabrina’s hand fell from her waistband as her lips pursed in embarrassment from the glare shot at the couple by the older woman.

Constantine, ignoring the antics of the people behind him, stoically stepped to the front of the podium they were standing on.

“Good morning, people of Cordonia, honoured guests,” he nodded to the group of nobles off to the side of the podium before smiling at the group of women nearest to the pier. “And distinguished suitors. Today represents the generosity shared by all Cordonians in relation to our neighbours, here at home and aboard. To mark this feeling our gallant suitors will race in the first race of the day to earn favour of our Crown Prince Leo. Suitors to your boats.”

The group of woman clamoured to their waiting rides, Liam’s hand tightening around Sabrina’s causing her to smile up at him. Her grin was infectious, feeling his own smile grow as he leaned in to capture his lips with his own.

“Liam!” Regina’s sharp hiss pulled the couple apart roughly. Sabrina’s cheeks dusted with colour at the reprimand. “Show some decorum. You are here for your brother.”

“My apologies, Regina,” Liam’s lips twitched traitorously, staring straight out at the crowd. Leo’s throat cleared as he held his hand up to his mouth to hide his own grin from the Queen.

Leo slid easily towards the couple standing at the back of the podium, earning a low growl from the animal at Sabrina’s feet.

“Nice doggy…” Leo held his hands up to Killer as he took a large step to the side.

“Hey,” Sabrina admonished the dog gently. “Be nice. He’s a friend, you goof.”

The Queen rolled her eyes in exasperation as the young woman spoke to the animal as if it understood her.

“Sorry,” she whispered over to Leo. “Her bark’s worse than her bite.”

“Hmmm…” Leo glanced warily at the beast perched at her owner’s feet. “I think I’d still rather avoid the bite. So, Brother, who are you betting on in the suitors’ race?”

Sabrina’s head whipped between the brothers as Liam’s lips curled into a full smile. He brought her hand to his lips for a third time, pretending to consider his options.

“Lady Elin has always shown great feats in any race I’ve witnessed…” Liam mused as the boats launched themselves through the water.

“I don’t know... I saw Lady Rebeka’s crew this year...” Leo mused, his lips pursed in thought. “A very strong competitor.”

The group fell silent for a few moments, watching for which boat would come through the turn strongest.

“Who was the blond woman from the ball, Liam…? The one you both grew up with?” Sabrina kept her eyes on the water as the boats began to cross the finish line.

“Madeleine?” Leo scoffed. “Maddi doesn’t sail.”

“Well… she knows someone who does then…” she nodded towards the pier. “Because she just won.”

“It could be worse…” Leo shrugged as he started towards the pier. “Rebeka kisses like a dead fish!”

Liam laughed loudly as his brother trotted towards the winner, his father mere steps ahead of him. Turning away from the scene unfolding he turned towards Sabrina, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.

“Come and walk the beach with me?” He asked softly, imploring her with a soft gaze. Her lips tugged into a soft smile as she nodded gently. Killer’s ears perking up at the word ‘walk’. “You want to come too, girl?”

The dog barked excitedly as Sabrina led her off the podium, Liam’s hand solidly on the small of her back.

--

The couple wandered down the beach hand in hand, occasionally throwing a driftwood stick for Killer to chase and bring back to them. Every once in a while the dog would become infatuated with something she had found in the sand, barking wildly at it before Sabrina would whistle to bring her back to them.

Liam bent down to take the latest stick from the dog’s mouth as a throat was cleared softly behind them. The couple turned slowly, Sabrina’s eyes widening at the redhead before them.

“My apologies,” Olivia spoke softly. “I was wondering if I could speak with Sabrina.”

Liam nodded, his lips drawn in a line as he called for Killer. Sabrina’s eyes widened as she realized he was leaving her alone with the other woman.

“Liam Rys…” She hissed at him. “Don’t you dare leave me here!”

“You’ll be fine,” he assured her, kissing her cheek gently. “Just try not to put her in a restraint this time…”

Sabrina gaped as he ran down the beach, her dog hot on his heels barking playfully at him.

“Even the dog abandons me in my hour of need…” she muttered. Taking a deep breath she steeled herself against whatever the woman wanted to say to her, determined not to react in any way. “What can I help you with, Olivia?”

Olivia took a deep breath of her own before meeting the gaze of the other woman.

“I want to apologize for my actions at the masquerade ball,” the words tumbled out of her mouth so quickly even Sabrina had a hard time keeping up with what she was saying. “I have had some time to reflect on my actions and what I had done to you… and to Liam… was wrong.”

“And Liam yelled at you and told you to apologize?” Sabrina’s arms folded across her chest, glaring at the younger woman.

“No!” She cried, her voice catching in her throat. She cleared the catch softly as she hung her head. “Well… yes… I suppose it was similar to that.”

“Look, Olivia, I really don’t care if we’re friends or not,” Sabrina started, holding up her hand as the younger woman started to speak. “I’m not here to take Liam away from anyone. I’m here because he asked me to be here. And I’ll be here until he asks me to leave. And honestly, I don’t give a shit how that affects you.”

“I understand,” Olivia nodded gently. “I do hope you can accept my apology, Sabrina. I truly am sorry.”

“I’ll take it under advisement,” she nodded harshly. “Thank you.”

Olivia nodded once more before turning to head back to the pier. She paused briefly, half turning back to the blond watching her leave.

“Sabrina?” She asked gently, bringing the ice blue eyes to her own. “Please, just don’t hurt him?”

“I don’t plan to,” Sabrina offered the girl a small smile, which was uneasily returned before Olivia continued her way to the waiting car.

Sabrina stood, staring after the girl for a while, not noticing that Liam had returned to her.

“You didn’t kill each other,” Liam whispered in her ear. Sabrina startled at his voice, jumping slightly.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” She cried, pushing her hand against her chest. “What the hell, Liam?”

“I’m so sorry, Sabrina,” Liam laughed, ducking under her swinging arm. “I thought you knew I was behind you.”

“UGH! You can seriously be such a jerk some days.” She rolled her eyes as he pulled her into his chest.

“How about a nice quiet week in the country?” He murmured into her hair. “Just the two of us?”

“I say, when do we leave?” She whispered back into his chest before letting him lead her, and Killer, towards a waiting car.

[dstrachan]

‘VIEWS FROM THE EDGE’ - w/c 23rd May 2022

Betty Davis ‘Dedicated To The Press’

Ronald MacDonald ‘The Fake News’

David Bowie ‘Friday On My Mind’

Tom Robinson Band ‘Glad To Be Gay’ George Baker, John Cameron, Owen Brannigan & D'Oyly Carte ‘HMS Pinafore: My Gallant Crew Good Morning - I Am The Captain Of The Pinafore’  

King Trey Gunnz ‘Ghost Of George Floyd’

Amon Düül II ‘Wolf City’

Chris Spedding ‘Motor Biking’

Leopold Stokowski ‘Le sacre du printemps (The Rite of Spring): Part II: The Sacrifice: Introduction (Pagan Night)’ Passengers ‘Miss Sarajevo [feat. Luciano Pavarotti]’

Marveline ‘Important Things’

The Nature Strip ‘Surgery’

Pussy Riot ‘Complete Control’

The Clash ‘White Riot’

Dance With The Dead ‘Riot’

Dimbleby & Capper ‘Let You Go’  

Femme ‘Educated’

lau.ra ‘Don’t Waste My Time feat. JessB (Model Man Remix)’

Hawkwind ‘Who’s Gonna Win The War’

Traffic ‘Shoot Out At The Fantasy Factory’

Rod Stewart ‘(I Know) I’m Losing You’

Macon Heights ‘Headlights’

Sacre Noir ‘Can’t Find My Truth (In Someone Like You)’

Derek & the Dominos ‘Layla’

The Pretenders ’Time The Avenger’

Marc Bolan ‘King Of The Rumbling Spires’

Healthy Junkies '20th Century Boy'

The Ting Tings ‘Soul Killing’

[joyful-voyager]

Kiss #19: For Luck

@jhelenoftrek​ asked for this one. I had some time on my lunch break so I gave it a whirl. Enjoy.

Kiss # 19 – For Luck

I don't know how I let myself get talked into these things.

Actually, that's not true. I know exactly how I let myself get talked into these things, or at least this particular thing. Phoebe is family, after all. So when my only sibling called this morning in a panic because she has a gallery opening in Greenwich Village this evening and no one to watch the kids, I agreed to replace the babysitter in a heartbeat.

“Are you sure?" she asked, but I could see the gratitude in eyes and hear it in her voice. “Liam's almost old enough to take care of it, but it would be the first time for him and —"

“No worries, Pheebs,” I said. “I'll beam to Bloomington at 1700 hours. Five o'clock. It'll take me about ten minutes to walk up from the kiosk. Just leave something for me to feed them."

She sighed in relief. “Okay. That's perfect. Thanks, Kathryn. We'll be home as soon as we can."

I waved my hand vaguely at the screen. “No problem. Tomorrow is Saturday. I can stay over if you need me to."

“We'll try to be home early so you don't need to."

“It's not a problem either way. Anything I should know?"

My sister cocked her head to one side, thinking. “Liam's got basketball until 6:30 but he can walk home on his own. He eats like a horse these days so I'll leave an extra pizza just for him. Katie and Finn will probably drop on you by 8:00. Just put them to bed and then you and Liam can spend the rest of the night talking shop."

I smiled. The fourteen-year-old son of Phoebe's husband Seamus, Liam O'Leary had been bitten at a young age by the Starfleet bug – at about the same time, in fact, that his bachelor father had met and married Phoebe Janeway, sister of the infamous Captain who'd stranded her ship and crew halfway across the galaxy.

“That sounds just fine, Pheebs,” I said. “Any rules for the babysitter?"

She narrowed her eyes at me. “No booze and no boys."

I sat back in my chair and howled.

And that's how I got myself talked into beaming from San Francisco to Bloomington, Indiana, on a fine Friday night…after ten straight hours of meetings about the Brolelia refugee situation, each one more contentious than the last.

By the time I finally got back to my office after the last meeting, I was tired, hungry, and already on the verge of being late. I'd hoped to go home to change clothes and grab a cup of coffee at least, but there was no time to spare. I dashed across the quad, through the lobby of my building, and into the lift. “Fourth floor,” I ordered. “And make it quick!"

The lift ride took twice as long as usual, or at least it seemed that way. When the doors finally parted I sprang through –

And collided with someone tall and solid and very familiar.

“Oof!" he gasped and steadied me on my feet. “Slow down, Admiral!"

“Chakotay?" I looked up and caught his delighted smile, which was contagious. I gave him a brief hug. I hadn’t seen him in three months, but it felt much longer. “What are you doing here? I thought you were still on leave!"

He shrugged. “I was. But then I got bored and anxious for my next assignment, so I came back."

“Next assignment?" I stepped back and took him in, all six feet of him, clad in a brand-new gray-and-maroon Captain's uniform. He looked good. Very good.

He nodded. “I met with Admirals Paris and Senek this morning. We worked out a few possibilities. But I wanted to talk to you first." He gestured back down the hall toward my office. “I was afraid I'd missed you. Do you have some time for me? I really need your opinion on something. We could go back to your office, or…” He took a deep breath. “I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me, Kathryn.”

My shoulders slumped. Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to spend the evening with this man, my best friend and closest confidant, whom I hadn't seen since he'd broken up with his much-younger girlfriend after the debriefings and simply left the planet, and who looked damn good in his new uniform. But I had a prior commitment.

“I'm afraid now is not a good time," I said.

He took a hasty step away from me, the smile fading from his face. “I'm sorry, Kathryn, I had hoped -- ”

I placed a hand in the middle of his chest to stop whatever he was about to say. “No, you misunderstand. I have to be in Bloomington in about two minutes to babysit my niece and nephews. But I'm free all weekend if you want to stop over and talk."

His smile was back in a heartbeat. “I'd like that. Call me in the morning?"

“Of course." I headed down the hall toward my office to grab a PADD and a few other things I needed. He followed along in my wake, as I'd known he would. “Where are you staying?"

“With Harry for the weekend. Then I'm going to start looking for something more permanent here."

I nearly bumped into the doorframe of my own office, I was so surprised. “Here?"

He nodded happily. “All the assignments Paris and Senek and I came up with are based right here on Earth."

I stared up at him. “I assumed you'd go back into space, now that you've gotten your promotion. You could have a ship!"

“Why would I want to go back out? I've seen enough of the galaxy for several lifetimes, Kathryn. I'm sure I'll get the itch again eventually, but for now?" He gave me a look I hadn't seen since long before Seven and Jaffen ever entered our lives. “I don't need a ship when everything I want is right here."

I am not ashamed to say that my knees went weak, just for a second.

“Okay, then,” I blustered, ducked his gaze, and darted into my office. “I'll just call you at Harry's, then, shall I?"

He leaned against the doorframe. “First thing in the morning. I'll be waiting."

I grabbed a few random items from my desk and shoved them in a bag. “First thing. Excuse me."

With a gallant gesture, he ushered me from my office. He had taken the bag from me and shepherded me into the lift before I realized he meant to walk me all the way to the transporter kiosk. “Chakotay, I can manage this myself. I'm sure you have somewhere to be.”

“Not really."

“Don't you have plans with Harry?"

“He has a date. Actually, he told me to make myself scarce this evening. I was hoping that I would…” He cleared his throat. “But it’s not a problem. I'll find something to do."

I frowned. “You could call Tom and B'Elanna."

“I could." He shifted my bag higher on his shoulder. “How old are Phoebe's kids, again?" he asked as we crossed the quad, a little too nonchalantly.

“The twins are almost four. Holy terrors, both of them. And Seamus's son Liam is fourteen now. Taller than I am. Thinking about Starfleet Academy!"

Chakotay chuckled. “I can't imagine why."

I smacked him playfully on the arm. When he caught my fingers and folded my hand in his, I didn't know what to say.

When we got to the transporter kiosk, he handed over my bag. I gave the coordinates to the transporter tech and started to step up to the pad, but Chakotay stopped me with a gentle hand on my elbow. I turned back to him and, to my utter surprise, he leaned down and kissed my cheek.

It was all I could do not to raise my fingertips and press them to the place his lips had touched. “What was that for?" I asked.

“For…for luck,” he said, smiling. “I've seen those kids, you know. They're quite a handful. You'll need all the luck you can get."

“Well, thank you. I think,” I said, and stepped up to the pad.

Something made me stop the tech before she could send me to Bloomington, though. “Chakotay? Why don't you come with me tonight?"

He grinned and leapt up beside me. “I thought you'd never ask."

We stared at each other for a moment, then we both started to laugh. Something had been decided, something settled at last.

We were sprawled on the sofa with a bottle of wine when Phoebe and Seamus got home from New York, and I realized I’d obliterated the rules about booze and boys with a tricobalt device.

It was worth it.

###