#also the cloak IS crafted to grow with him so I guess it being able to grow sleeves when he needs em might not be entirely untrue

[puppyeared]

(yes I know siffrins cloak grows sleeves when its convenient but I wanna play around with this)

[lucabyte]

thinking about the very specific reading of isat i had during act 3 for the most part

anyway yeah ill ramble here about this. since it actually explains my headcanons for what the disappearing island wish was

disclaimer: taken as a whole this is way too allegorical for what i'd consider a holistic reading of isat, but it was part of my running theories at the time.

anyway my guess for the real-world equivalent of the island ended up being French Polynesia by the end of the game. I had initially thrown a dart at siffrin being greek wrt europe, sisyphus allusion, enjoyment of plays and seafairing-- but the moment that little guy started getting real weird about stars and specified they were from an island i switched my guess to him being polynesian. And then that reading only really strengthened from there (and i was pretty close, tbf!)

but yeah during act 3, especially the king plotline, i started thinking about the themes of cultural erasure + lack of identity that the game has and how that plays wrt vaugarde's extremely welcoming and diverse nature.

reading far too much into it but it made me wonder if they are the results of a fallen empire of some kind. somewhere that gathered people from across the globe (as empires are known to do) before dissolving into what seems to be a localised theocracy of some kind?

like. vaugarde is basically the Good End for an empire. Fully demilitarised (they barely have use for police to the point where the defenders are surprised by burglaries, and almost CERTAINLY have zero army), extremely diverse, not caring where one comes from.

(either that or they've been a socialist utopia like, forever? and thus just aquired migrants perpetually... but ka bue is characterised as harsher by odile in a lot of respects so one can assume its not that the whole planet is Niceys All The Time.)

this lines up pretty well with the um. Whole France Thing. Boy do they own a lot of islands still that they maybe shouldn't. Also lines up with bonnie's word-of-god french creole dialect. So Vaugarde as the welcoming, ideal form of former-colonialiser-nation is like. one i vibe with if we're gonna read too hard into the worldbuilding as presented.

Anyway all this to say I did for a time wonder if the Northern Island wish was 'For The Island To Be Safe'. Assuming this world to have any level of inter-country conflict-- Wish craft is powerful stuff, and a singular island might not be able to defend itself against those seeking to take it by force. Hiding the island from the world would protect it.

... though that felt like an unusually cruel read. The implication that cloistering away like that is a 'valid' strategy for a culture to be safe (albeit with the splash damage of hurting any diaspora).

Plus, wish craft is superbly powerful, with evidently its use on the island only becoming more widespread after it was discovered how to make it work Consistently.

(i work here under the assumption that Siffrin's growing cloak is imbued with wish craft, assumedly the same as the king's armour? Since there's no way that was created at that scale...)

So it almost makes more sense, to me, for the wish to be to 'Protect The World (universe) From Us' or to 'Keep The Universe Safe'.

Wish craft being so second nature to the Islanders (See: Siffrin, favour tree), that a wish that breaks the universe is almost inevitable were the knowledge to become widespread and ingrained.

This too is an oddly cruel read, that a culture's rituals can be dangerous to that degree, but ... ? Dunno. Like I said, reading it as hard allegory makes it fall apart somewhat. Symbols can mean many different things at once until you flatten them for direct analysis like this. I don't think it's quite so 1-to-1, and it's honestly slightly too 'no story only lore' for my tastes, so I did push a lot of this stuff out of my analytical mind once I started getting to the back and of act 3 and into act 4.

Anyway. Not the most coherent explanation in the world, but still some thoughts I had mid-game that i figure i should put somewhere at least, even if I don't think they are really what the game is going for.

As a bonus, the discussions on what the island wish were in this context also lead my friend @samhainian to speculation on the colour wish that i really enjoy. Which is....

The wish that removed colour from humans perception of the world being something along the lines of:

"I wish the world was simpler"

ergo, removing colour as an invocation of Nuiance VS Black and White Morality. The world is simpler, easier to understand.

I think it's a fun headcanon! I like it.

Well anyway. A work is more than the sum of its parts and dissecting something so sloppily as this often does it a disservice. So don't take my theorising as anything more than a general rundown of where my head was at mid-game before i had all the pieces. The emotional core of the story is far more where it's at for ISAT sooooo. [Shrugs and scampers away]

[chaozsilhouette]

A Revealing Performance

My rendition for the Shadow Play in @winterpower98's Swap Au.

It was supposed to be a simple thing, then it sort of spiraled into this whole deal. For the effects of the Shadow Lantern, I drew some inspiration from her Cursed Au as I never thought simply using her friends was cruel enough for the Monkey Tyrant.

It serves to show just how far Macaque has grown, but also to highlight just how monstrous he was.

_____________________________

Mei refrained from downing her bubble tea as she waited for the play to start. It had been a rough couple of weeks with Spider Queen and that creepy girl. And failing to find where Xiaotian had run off to after the misunderstanding. When Macaque sent her tickets to the local theatre, she was ashamed to think it was a trap.

Pigsy and Sandy were right. After everything that happened, she needed some serious me time. She had been too stressed.

Besides, everyone knew Macaque was a total theatre nerd. Few people knew that the star puppeteer was actually the Six-Eared Macaque himself. He would totally send her tickets from his stomping grounds as a way to unwind.

It was a shame that Tang couldn’t join them. Apparently, he finally managed to schedule a meeting with the Celestial Realm and was Taking the demon brothers to figure out a new way of sealing the Monkey Tyrant. It was also his chance to explain their little break-in during New Years. He encouraged her to have fun and if it was good, he’d join them for the next showing.

So here they were waiting for the performance to start. Although she wondered what the fake mayor was doing here. They hadn't seen him since he gave her the skeleton key. Still wasn't sure why he had it or why he gave it to her? Supposedly she was only supposed to have it for a day, but he never stopped by to pick it up.

_____________________________

Sun Wukong was a monkey of many talents, but even he had to admit Macaque was a far better storyteller and his mastery of shadows was sheer perfection. But that just made this plan all the more perfect. What better way to teach his wayward beloved’s little flower a lesson than through a trusted medium.

Obtaining a spot in the local theatre was child’s play, a little magic and they were all but begging him to take center stage. Apparently, they had been scrambling to find a new performer after their star puppeteer had to leave for a family emergency (three guesses as to who that was). And with a little glamor, a set of tickets was left at the little flower's doorstep. As far as she knew, Macaque was proud of her progress and believed she had deserved a reward for all her hard work. She was so desperate for something to go right she hardly questioned how her mentor, who was in parts unknown, managed to secure tickets for a new performer.

In his personal dressing room, Wukong delicately touched up his human disguise. Even if he was going to be hidden in his hanfu and cloak, it wouldn’t do to spoil the surprise. Applying his eye shadow with artful flair, the Monkey King took time to appreciate just how handsome he truly was no matter what form he took. Honestly, who would have thought such perfection existed?

A pulse of dark magic drew his attention to his latest partner in crime.

The Shadow Lantern gently floated before him. Its dark magic practically purring at the thought of being used. Wukong could almost laugh at his beloved’s foolishness. He was there when his darling created the lantern, when he infused his own shadows into its very foundation. Did he honestly think such a masterpiece would tolerate being left to collect dust in a cave?

Normally a magical artifact would never consider turning on its master, but after centuries of abandonment, all Wukong had to do was whisper his intentions to return Macaque to his former self to secure its loyalty. The second he first made contact, he could sense a twisted hunger writhing within and with each performance granting it the chance to feed on the life essence of the viewers…. hehe, he almost couldn’t contain himself.

Looking up at the clock, he saw it was just about time for his next performance. His clones had reported the girl’s presence along with the pig and the water demon. Strangely the one with glasses and the little matchstick was absent. No matter, he could make do with two hostages just fine.

After all, the show must go on.

_____________________________

The overhead lights dimmed, signaling the start of the play. Smoke slowly poured from beneath the floorboards, generating an air of mystery. In a flash of golden light, a tall man wearing a beautiful cloak manifested on center stage. The crowd silenced themselves at the display.

“Welcome viewers to a performance you shall never forget!” From the folds of his sleeves, an exquisite lantern floated in front of him. A mesmerizing yet familiar purple glow emanating from the center.

“Our tale tonight is one of love, companionship, and how even the strongest of bonds can be severed through the trickery of the wicked.”

In the background, the shadows twisted and grew in the lantern’s light. Carefully they formed a beautiful scene of a mountain covered in flowers and trees. Attention was gradually guided to the top, where a round stone basked in the sun.

“It all began with the birth of a King.”

The round stone broke, revealing a figure that resembled a monkey. But no, this was a monkey demon, a monkie if you would. The King journeyed down the mountain until he found a tribe of normal monkeys. The group frolicked for a while as the King established himself as the undisputed ruler of the tribe.

A large figure with an ax appeared. The monster brought down his ax upon a small collection of monkeys only to be stopped at the last second by the King. The King used his superior strength to steal the demon’s ax and used it to decapitate the intruder in a single stroke. The monkeys jumped around the King and praised his strength, but the King did not appear satisfied.

“The young King was born with great power and strength, but he sought out more to protect his people.”

The King crafted a raft and set out on a dangerous sea. The King was shown to face off against mountain gods, human warriors, and demonic sorcerers always to reign victorious but never satisfied.

“In his travels, he learned much and faced many enemies, in time his efforts were handsomely rewarded.”

The King climbed a fleet of stairs carved into a mountain to reach a humble monastery. At the top, a stern human stood, but behind him was another monkie. This one however possessed six ears.

“His quest for power led him to a Warrior of potential equaling his own. At first, neither was sure how to react to their mirror, but they quickly forged a comradery that took them far.”

The two monkies trained together, mastering new powers as they sparred.

“Their time together increased their power exponentially and as they grew stronger their feelings blossomed into something beautiful.”

The two were on a cliff overlooking the stars, slowly leaning closer to one another. Eventually, the two faced their opposite and leaned in close.

“Their fates had become intertwined. Their power was unmatched. It was then the King realized what he had been searching for all this time.”

The two shadows merged together in a complex dance until they separated into two beings once again, but not as they began. The two monkeys were now garbed in elaborate, yet practical armor and silks. The King wielded a staff and the Warrior took up a spear.

“Slowly their strength grew to where nothing could challenge them, whether in the Celestial Realm or on Earth.”

The King and Warrior were shown battling heavenly armies and powerful demons with confident smirks. Each battle resoundingly won through their combination of speed, strength, and cunning.

“But it was not enough. The King wished to ensure that he and the Warrior would be able to fight together forever and sought the power and respect needed to secure their future.”

The King took to the Heavens, where he stood before an Emperor in the most extravagant outfit, surrounded by massive guards in magical armor. The Emperor was clearly afraid as the King effortlessly toppled one guard after another, slowly approaching the throne at a steady pace.

“The King’s noble actions were viewed negatively by those who feared his ever-growing power. Eventually, a prison was crafted that could restrain the King, one that not even his beloved Warrior could destroy.”

Just before the King’s latest attack could reach the Emperor, chains wrapped around his limbs and dragged him down to Earth. With a quick flex, the chains shattered, but the King was doomed as a mountain landed on him with a seal placed at the top. The Warrior tried to pry off the seal or find some way to weaken the mountain, his acts growing more desperate with time, yet nothing worked.

“Cruelly, the King was forced to wait until he could be freed, forced to watch his precious Warrior defend their Kingdom on his own.”

With a heavy expression, the Warrior abandoned his efforts to return to the original mountain as dozens of terrifying figures surrounded the monkey inhabitants.

“Centuries passed and their love still burned strong. Soon their patience was rewarded, the King was freed but he was soon trapped in a new prison.”

A monk approached the mountain and removed the seal. The King swiftly destroyed the mountain. The monk humbly bowed to the King and offered fresh clothing and a fillet. The King garbed himself in the gifts only to collapse in agony when the monk prayed.

“Enraged the King played along until the time was right. The King and the Warrior reunited in secret and crafted a plan that would allow them to take their revenge on those that dared to separate them.”

The two monkies hugged and nuzzled each other in appreciation. A quick conversation later, the Warrior changed to resemble the King and joined the monk as the King headed into unknown lands.

“Decades later the King was ready to retrieve his love, confident in his regained strength. But when he arrived the Warrior had changed. It was as if the warrior had lost a crucial part of himself. The Warrior tried to dissuade the King from killing the monk and his companions. He even tried to convince him to give up his rage at the Celestial Realm, believing the war that would ensue wasn't worth it.”

The disguised Warrior was traveling with four colorful characters. The King dropped from the sky in front of the group, a massive crater forming around him. The Warrior regained his true form, but instead of returning to his rightful place, he blocked the King’s view of the monk.

“The King could not believe his ears. This could not be his Warrior. His love always understood his goals and knew why heaven had to pay. The King knew this change was the monk’s fault. The King moved to silence the deceiver in one quick strike only to find it blocked by the Warrior.”

The King and Warrior exchanged blows that tore mountains asunder, split the heavens, and burned down forests. The other demons following the monk tried to aid the warrior, but nothing they did seemed to slow down the King, if anything their attacks only served to further enrage him.

“The two clashed until the Warrior fled with the jailers. Time and time again they clashed, but never could the King reach the Warrior he held in his heart.”

The group fled from the battle, but time and time again the King tracked them down. The locations may have changed, but the carnage after each battle remained as world-shattering as the first. In the end, the Group managed to truly escape, and the Warrior vanished into the shadows he wielded, leaving the King alone with nothing but his memories.

“Even now the King yearns for the companionship of his beloved Warrior, knowing that at his core the Warrior craves the same.”

With the final line sending shivers down the spines of the viewers, the puppeteer vanished in a flash of light.

_____________________________

As Mei waited for her family to walk out, she couldn’t help but think about the play. It almost sounded like they were telling the tale of the Monkey King. But that was ridiculous. No one knew the Monkey King’s origins aside from minor details from the Journey to the West. Besides the narrator seemed to view the Monkey Tryant as a hero and victim. Clearly, that guy needed a reality check.

“Hello, young one.” Nearly choking on the remainder of her tea, Mei turned to see the puppeteer standing behind her with a knowing smile.

His cloak shrouding the top of his face in shadow. For a second, Mei envisioned her father Macaque. He would adore that look. Actually, didn’t she see a similar outfit in his closet on Flower Fruit Mountain? Doesn’t he wear that outfit when he’s hosting a shadow play?

Wait. How did he sneak up on her like that? Was she that out of it?

How long has she been quiet? Crap! Say something! “Oh. Ah-hello. C-can I help you with something?”

“I was about to ask the same. You do know the theatre is going to close soon right?”

“What?” Mei grabbed her phone. The digital clock flashed that it was past nine. That couldn’t be right. That meant she had been waiting for nearly an hour. But where were the others? Surely, they wouldn’t have left without telling her. Were they in trouble?

“Is everything alright?”

“Ah- yeah, everything’s fine.” It’s cool. It’s cool. She could handle this. She just needed to stay calm. “No need to worry about me. I just ah-I have a few questions about your play.”

“Yes.”

“How did you could up with the concept? I mean, no offense, but your premise could be taken the wrong way.” Maybe it was the panic over where her family had disappeared to, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being sized up.

“Hm. Have you ever heard the expression ‘History is written by the winners’?”

“Yes. It’s pretty common.” Like one of the most used sayings in the world.

“The tale was designed to show that love is one of the most cherished feelings of all and that in order to protect it, one must be willing to do anything to keep their loved ones safe. The King only wished to keep his beloved by his side, but the Warrior was misled and forced to battle against his love. That story may belong to only two, but similar tales can be experienced in anyone’s life. Tell me, can you think of a time you fought with those you cared about due to a misunderstanding?”

Without even considering it, horrible memories resurfaced. Mei arguing with MK as she tried to stop him from leaving with the newly released Monkey King. Mei forced to battle Red Son as his mind was slowly consumed by the True Fire of Samadhi. Tang lying to them about his true identity. Macaque leaving when they needed him most without saying why.

“I see you can.” The puppeteer gently guided her back into the main hall, where she took a seat on an empty bench.

“It’s nothing. I just-” She honestly didn’t know why she was pouring out her heart to stranger. Maybe she really was that exhausted. “-there’s so much going on and I’m supposed to be strong no matter what. But sometimes it hurts, just thinking about all my mistakes. Sometimes I wonder if I truly am strong. What if bringing me into this was a mistake?”

“What if it was?” That voice!

Mei turned to see Macaque garbed in a strange outfit, one that honestly reminded her of the Monkey King’s. She was confused. She had never seen him wear anything like that, he looked like the Monkey King’s twisted shadow.

And that expression! Her father Macaque had never made that face before. It looked as though he was reveling in her suffering.

“What’s the matter, little jade? Don’t worry, I won’t leave you alone.” He extended a hand slowly with the intent to cradle her face. A normal gesture he would use to comfort her, but her every instinct was screaming at her to get away.

Mei jumped to her feet and pulled out her spear, aiming it right between the imposter’s eyes. “Enough games!”

Macaque stared at the spear for a second, his fiendish expression only growing more vicious. He threw his head back with a full-bodied laugh, showing how little he thought of her threat. “Ha. Ha. Ha.”

In a flash of light, the Monkey Tyrant was standing before her, still wearing his puppeteer disguise. “Wow. About time. For a while, I was wondering if you’d ever figure out it was me.” His red and gold eyes carefully roved over her body, taking in every shake and fearful twitch. “Put down the spear, kid. We both know you’re not nearly good enough to scratch me with such a pitiful copy of the Dragon Blade.”

That may have been true, but she’d sooner make out with DBP in full view of Queen Iron Fan than leave herself completely open before this tyrant. “So the play was from your perspective. I always figured you were delusional, but this is a new low. Where is my family?” She all but growled, unknowingly her canines had slightly elongated in response to her rage.

“They never left. I’m surprised you didn’t recognize this.” The Monkey King took out the lantern, once more bathing the room in that familiar glow.

“What’s the big deal about a lantern?”

The stone monkie found her ignorance all the more entertaining. To think he hadn’t warned her of his own past.

“The big deal is that my dear warrior crafted this lantern long ago. It was his finest work and like everything he made it has multiple uses.” With a simple hand gesture, the silhouettes of Pigsy and Sandy appeared on the walls. “The Shadow Lantern can do more than enhance one’s skills in shadow magic, it can trap the bodies and souls of its targets. So long as the targets are trapped, the lantern can steal the shadows of its victims so its master can use them as a personal army until there is nothing left.”

“You expect me to believe Macaque made something so disgusting?” Even as Mei said it, she couldn’t help but recognize how similar the lantern’s magic was to her teacher’s. It was cool and soothing, but on the edge, there was an unmistakable edge of malice. “Even if he did, I doubt he made it without you whispering in his ears.”

“Oh child, you have no idea how many secrets he keeps from you. Let me share one with you.” The lantern grew brighter, and the silhouettes of her family members gained more substance as they peeled away from the walls.

Mei adjusted herself so all opponents were in her sight, but nothing could stop the sweat collecting on her forehead.

She sensed something powerful appear behind her. Jumping out of the way as a spear nearly severed her arm. She faced her new opponent. Only to almost drop her weapon.

Standing before her was another copy of Macaque only this one was even more disturbing. Its eyes burned with purple light, the shadows loving curled around it, but worst of all was the sneer filled with razor-tipped teeth.

“Did you honestly think my love was always so nice?”

[ayamturd]

kid│technoblade

summary: (requested) an errand run forces techno out of the house; he meets an interesting kid in return

warnings: brief injury description, hinted abandonment, light angst and fluff

pairing: in-game platonic!technoblade

a/n: i took this request and ran so far with it lol. pls enjoy, i loved the reader’s dynamic with techno sm

wc: (4.0k) - m.list

It was hot, the day smothering in the summer heat as the village offered little coverage to the harsh sun. From exploring the lands of the Arctic to walking in the crowded space on the sweltering landscape, Technoblade let out a sigh from how his layered clothing stuck to him; his regal attire was more than slightly uncomfortable and was arguably only for looks then and there. 

Glancing down to the list in his hands once more, he grumbled from the tasks, supplies and ingredients he still needed, openly irritated from being forced on the supply run. Real funny Phil. Hilarious.

He scratched his head, lost to the busy market place as many shoved past him in the busy rush. Technoblade was a warrior, the Blood God, he was someone to be feared and feel threatened by, yet at that very moment he couldn’t be anything less than a lost tourist. 

Technoblade rarely ventured to extremely public places, but he knew he couldn’t return empty handed, the underwhelming mockery he would receive would be just plain annoying. 

With a final sigh of defeat, he decided it best to take each task step by step, that starting with the blacksmith. Now, make no question that Technoblade and Phil weren’t not capable of crafting their own weapon, but at times, the cost of another’s opinion did more help than that of personalized wants. 

It was even hotter once he entered the open store, the burning furnace emitting an almost intolerable intensity that rivaled the burning cold of the Arctic. Rolling his neck, he approached the front desk and unsheathed both Phil’s and his long swords, tossing a small pouch with a chink as payment for restorations and commendations.

Speaking few words in the villager’s tongue, the worker immediately began his assessment when taking the weapons in hand. Techno knew little in the different language, but he understood when the man explained the necessary works and time expectancy. 

He sighed for what felt to be his 15th time that afternoon, but complied when leaning against the counter for the next few minutes; he refused to leave his best weaponry in the hands of a stranger, and would do with the wait until then. 

Picking on the crusted mud that hardened on his fur coat, he jumped when someone slammed into the wood he leaned against, eyes dropping to meet the height of a young adolescent.

Unlike himself, they seemed dressed for the sweltering heat. Their cloak hung loosely from their shoulders, but was bare and thin, either from time or was purposeful from the climate, it was his guess. While they seemed as energetic as someone their age should be, he could tell from experience of the way they stood tall with their chin held high that they were a fighter, someone who seemed cautious of their surroundings by the constant shift in their eyes. 

He also knew they noticed him but was purposefully choosing to ignore him for whatever reason, he couldn’t tell. Coughing, he went back to his useless fiddling. 

They tapped anxiously, their fingers twitching while they looked longingly to the nearest axes, an overwhelming sense of excitement filling the stuffy air. While he tried to ignore them considering how little they could stand still irritated him, he couldn’t deny that they intrigued him. 

“Helloooooooo?” they called out, jumping above the counter and holding themself up with their arms stiff in strength. Techno waited a brief moment while they began yelling louder before rolling his eyes to interrupt them.

“They’re busy right now. Give it a minute, will you?”

His monotoned voice caused them to freeze, and as they slowly turned to meet the sight of him, a huge grin grew on their face. It made his frown grow in return. 

“A minute can be so long in silence, I’m only making it go faster.” Techno scoffed at their words and fully turned his body towards them. His genetics made him tower over them even when slouched, yet while he knew others would cower, the child in front of tilted their head in amusement. 

“By what logic does that make any sense?”

The mischievous teenager followed Technoblade’s posture, mimicking his stance with crossed arms. They jutted their chin out proudly, though it was obvious they were only messing with him further.

“My logic, obviously.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s yours, doesn’t make it right.”

With an annoying quirk of a smile, the small human smirked with feigned innocent eyes.

“Says who?”

Knowing full well that it would a battle in vain, Techno conceded and faced the front desk again, his arms resting against the table as he hung his head down with a huff of air. 

His considered defeat made the young stranger laugh lightly, and they copied his position, but instead held their head in their palms with a small hum. Staring at him intensely, their head rocked in thought for some time before they spoke up. 

“You look miserable.”

It took Techno a large amount of willpower to prevent himself from glaring in their direction, something the child took as a challenge. They filled the silence when Techno left it unattended, leaning closer to him while still in place. 

“I mean, the outfit is sick, I won’t lie. But you just look awful right now. How many layers do you have on anyway?”

Once more, he had to clench his fist tightly to drown out their bothersome questions. The child, as he now deemed it considering how persistent it could be, noted his subtle tensing and bit their lip to smother another coming giggle. 

“Is your crown real? Are you actually royalty? Am I expected to bow in honor or respect? I’m terrible with conversation-“

“So I’ve noticed.” Techno dryly stated, his hand coming to rub the back of his head, exasperated, with a shake. They completely disregard his side comment like he never spoke. 

“-but I never though I’d live to see the day I interact with royalty.”

“I’m not royal, I’m anythin’ but.” Techno’s voice dropped when considering the matter, his narrowed eyes in concentration against his constant fight for Anarchy and destruction. 

His seriousness created a beat of silence in the shop, though without fail, the teenager overlooked his internal monologue.

“Do you have a long, fancy name with numbers and stuff? Like ‘King George the First' or ‘Their majesty, Alas-’”

“No."

“But what about-”

Techno’s groan cut their next range of questions off, and he pushed himself up to stare them down tiredly. 

“You’re a pretty annoyin’ kid, you know that?”

Sitting up when he did, the teen jumped onto the counter backwards, swinging their legs on the edge while gripping the border tightly. They rested their chin on their shoulder with an eased smile as they now matched his height. 

“So I’ve been told.”

The approaching footsteps from the back entry caused the both of them to turn their heads, the young stranger facing to him while Techno’s gaze still remained. 

“But you can’t deny it, I made time go faster.”

Hopping off before they could be scolded, the blacksmith returned with the weapons’ adjustments and the requested engravings Phil asked for, drawing Techno’s attention away from the young stranger. He opened the cloth the worker brought the swords out in, and lifted his own while gripping the grained handle tightly.

Stepping away from the counter, he swung the blade in front of him, tossing it briefly as to adjust to its weight and consider its balance. The wind it generated in the slices of air brought a dark smile to his face. Satisfied with the result, Techno inspected the finer details up close a final time before sheathing it to his side. 

As he went to grab Phil’s, he caught the teen’s awed gape. He chuckled from their open amazement and moved to walk towards the displayed axes behind them. 

“What’s your name, kid?” With his back to them, he reached his hand outward to the various blade sizes, hovering over the edges with careful pressure. 

His question visibly threw them off, and they stuttered before gathering themself. 

“What’s yours?” they asked, eyebrows raised in defense. Techno felt the corner of his mouth lift from their faltering. 

“Technoblade.” He was patient as they swallowed before responding. 

“Y/n.”

Unclasping a light, yet deadly thin battle-blade axe from the wall, Techno eventually turned around to meet them again.  

“No last name?” 

While they smiled, it didn’t reach their eyes as they glanced away with a careless shrug. No origin or proper upbringing, he assumed.

“Never came up with one. Never needed one.”

“Hmm.”

Lifting the axe in hand, Techno gestured to the empty baldric that wrapped tightly around their chest. By their longing stares and stance as a fighter, it didn’t take much to make the connection that they were someone who fought with an axe. 

“What happened to the last one?”

Surprised by his close observation, they brought their hands to the bare hold as if they were searching for it. Unlike the past few minutes in his company, they suddenly became shy and spoke with a guilty smile. 

“O-oh. I, uh, chipped the blade. Wore it down. It’s been a while since I was able to treat myself, I thought it was finally worth the wait to get a new one.”

Shifting on their feet, they grasped one of their arms awkwardly. Despite their previously loud, outward energy, Techno sighed once he saw them as the kid they were; they were someone alone that was forced to survive in the big world, someone he could relate and understand. 

After a moment passed, Techno faced the worker. They had been watching their interaction the entire time and seemed as uncomfortable as they were bored. Without asking for a price, he wordlessly pulled out a handful of emeralds from his drop leg pouch and slammed them on the table surface. 

The blacksmith made sounds of gurgled delight, gathering the gems into his opens hands with furious nods in thanks. Techno only rolled his eyes and shoved the purchased axe forwards, leaving it open in his outreached hands to the child. 

“Save your money. It’s not worth any price they try to sell.”

Switching their sights from the weapon and Technoblade in disbelief, they breathlessly giggled when carefully lifting it from his hold. 

Twirling it easily before striking near the ground, the pulled the new beauty to their chest gratefully. They were at a loss for words, to say the least, and Techno laughed from their frozen shock.

His laughter died down and he decided to take his leave in quick steps. While the teen tried to shout to him in thanks, they were still dazed and couldn’t form words to yell. 

Techno paused at the entrance and dipped his head back, his hand bordering the door frame. He grinned slightly to the point where his sharper canines were visible, and called out to them in departure.

“See you around, kid.”

Bow raised, arrow drawn, Techno crept low on the forest ground with cautious and calculated steps. 

The overgrown leaves above provided a gentle shading that shielded the majority of the sunlight, only few splotches breaking through. It had been too long since Techno went hunting, the sport lost to him since his recent adventures and scenery in the very south. 

As he had been traveling for days on end to meet with his brothers’ call, he thought to gather food and see through with his lost skill; he had devoted a majority of his time in peaceful solitude to farming and raising cattle, he wasn’t as skillful as he used to be. 

Keeping that in mind, as his eyes narrowed from the close rustling of a bush before him and he approached meaningfully, he failed to noticed the grown roots that broke through the dirt. 

With a small yelp, his foot became stuck and he fell hard onto his face.

A small rabbit hopped out of the shrubbery and stopped briefly near him as if in mockery to his embarrassing failure before bouncing away. 

Technoblade groaned, both from pain and the circumstances, and gave up any hope for moving in shame when the voices began to mock him. 

“Well that wasn’t very royal of you.”

While his memory failed him more often than not, he recognized the voice specifically over the chaos that reigned in his ears. Contemplating the next-least humiliating course of actions, he settled on pretending nothing happened. 

“Like I said the last time,” he sighed while pushing himself up, “I’m not royalty.”

Brushing off the dirt that stained his clothes and skin, Techno turned to the child’s voice and jerked startled when their entertained countenance was closer than what he expected. They were hanging upside down with their legs hooked on a low, but sturdy branch. 

Face smug, they crossed their arms and openly snickered. 

“Agreed, you are far less graceful than what I expect them to be.”

Techno shook his head and searched for his bow, the old relic more traditional and practical in comparison to his crossbow for hunting. He hummed when spotting it and tried to shift the conversation. 

“What are you doin’ out here, kid?”

Pulling themself up in a sitting position, they swung their feet wildly and looked around the woodlands with a shrug. 

“I live here.”

Freezing mid crouch with his bow in hand, Techno’s words were slow following after. 

“Out here?”

“Mhmm.”

There was a pause as Techno looked at them confused. His brows furrowed fro their vague input. 

“In the trees?”

“Sometimes,” they sang. Leaping forward, they landed smoothly onto their feet and raised their eyes to the sky. “It depends on my mood, and whether or not I want to see the stars.”

“Ah.”

With that, Techno turned and started to walk away. His hunting attempt was a mistake that cost him a bullying teenager that apparently lived in the woods and was homeless, the voices adding onto his internal torment; he wanted to leave as fast as he could.

Racing their steps ahead of him, y/n began to walk backwards to address him directly. 

“Why are you here? I assume you don’t live near here since you dress like an old, aristocratic woman with modesty insecurities.”

Techno looked ahead without faltering considering their playful jab, and they tried for an answer again. 

“Plus you haven’t been around for weeks.”

Steps slowing, Techno was genuinely surprised to hear their observation and glanced at them with an inclined head tilt. 

“You looked for me?”

Caught in their own web, y/n timorously avoided his stare. 

“The town’s always busy with newcomers, travelers, royalty,” they emphasized with a pointed look at him, “trust me when I say you stick out like a sore thumb. Your turn.”

Nodding from their reasonable, but untrue explanation, it was Techno’s turn to glance away while formulating a response. 

“I’ve been… uh, explorin’, you could say.”

In a paralleling manner, they copied his previous nod despite their skepticism. 

“I see. And now?”

“Now I’m visitin’ an old friend, old relations.”

“Ahhh. Girlfriend?”

Technoblade stopped walking altogether and incredulity gawked at them. 

“What?”

“Boyfriend?” y/n continued, now turning with their back facing him. Techno rushed to meet there stride and spoke down to them.

“No, stop it.”

Hand to their chin, they pretended to reach another revelation with wide eyes. 

“Ohh I get it now, distant family.”

“You can be quiet now,” Techno grumbled. Smacking his forehead, he rubbed it exasperated while their joy became evident in their cheerful tone.  

“Are they misunderstanding?” the teen asked, their cheeks flushed excitedly from his apparent discomfort. “Is it the person-friend they don’t approve of?”

“I’m leaving now.” Techno hurried his pace as to leave the forest ground.

“They rude? Unbearable? Selfish? Annoying?”

“You know what,” he stated, spinning to them to clarify since they had stopped walking entirely behind him, “yes.”

“Ooo which one?”

“Annoyin’, and you remind me so much of them.”

The trees were now clear as the plains had become more visible during their trek. Strapping the long, recurve barbow over his head and around his chest, Techno thought the exchange done and allowed the sun to bask over him. 

Before he could make his way to his camp, their voice yelled out to him. 

“Aww that’s sweet!”

Perplexed to how anything of what he said could be seen as ‘sweet’, his curiosity got the better of him and he turned again. 

“You consider me like family? I’m touched!”

Eyes narrowed, Techno bowed his head it defeat once again. He could never win with them, could he?

“‘kay, I’m done with this. Goodbye.”

Y/n waved avidly with a wide grin in spite of him not looking. 

“See you around, Sir Blade!”

“You should consider yourself lucky.”

The stillness was deafening. Regardless of the wind that howled outside and forced the shudders to rattle upon constant impact, or the fire the lit the room bright in heat and warm tone color, the quiet was tense when y/n awoke in Techno’s house. 

“I saw the smoke burn miles out. Had the wind changed its course, I would have never noticed.”

As his back was turned to them, Techno pulled the cork from his most recent regeneration brew and poured it briskly into a small mug, its small rippling sound overtaking the room. With a plate of bread he prepared beforehand, he finally addressed them with the sustenance in hand. 

Y/n was completely engulfed in the large bedding they rested in, Techno’s bedding. Their arms were wrapped tightly with gauze that covered their forearms all the way to their chest. Eyes sunken and dark, they squinted heavily from recently awakening with ashen hair that matted to their face. 

“Is everyone alright?” they asked, voice faint yet rough from the intense smoke inhalation and damage they sustained in the event. Coughing from speaking for the first time, Techno was quick to hand them the potion. 

They downed the drink voraciously, and he decided to speak while they ate. 

“Everyone that managed to escape, probably. But those that did fled long before I arrived.”

Glancing at down at them, Techno could only sigh at the sight. They were so small under his gaze, and he shifted his attention to the nearest wall with crossed arms. 

“It’s one thing to help others, it’s another when takin’ on a raid by yourself.”

His pointed comment caused them to snap and try to defend themself, however, they moved to suddenly and winced from the slight movement. Despite his frown, Techno’s hands were raised gently with concerned eyes from their evident pain. 

Breathing in and out harshly, they were still hunched over when they glared up at him in anguish. 

“You didn’t hear them scream, you didn’t hear them yell for mercy. You weren’t there, but I was. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.” Their voice cracked near the end, and with vast tears that escaped, a broken sob filled the space as they hid their face ashamed. 

Techno was at a loss when comforting others, but he wasn’t a jerk to ignore someone after surviving a tragic incident, one they tried to fight yet lost to. 

Slowly, he moved to sit on the bed side. He clenched his fist shut in hesitance, but steadily, he hovered his hand over them before stroking their back reassuringly. 

“Listen, kid,” pausing, Techno caught himself and cleared his throat, “Y/n, I know you barely know anything about me but trust me. I understand how it feels, how it must’ve felt then to be overwhelmed by sudden cries that surround you to the point that you make rash decisions. Trust me when I say I get it.”

Their cries died down from his words, and he spoke earnestly as they listened more closely in smothered hiccups. 

“I respect what you tried to do in the end, but you have to be self aware that you’re still just a kid.”

His blunt statement made them freeze, and when the fully processed what he said, they dropped their hands to scowl at him incredulously. Their red eyes are hard and made him laugh from his lack of explanation to his true meaning. 

“Hey, I never said it was the age that was at fault.”

Pulling his arms away, he grasped his hands together and rested his elbows to his knees, though his focus was still on them. 

“You’re young, and young means inexperienced. Give yourself some leeway and accept your limits that come with time.”

They looked down from his attentive eyes, but still nodded when understanding his perspective. 

Rubbing the bottom of his chin with the back of his hand, Techno attempted to further the conversation amiably. He was out of his depth socially, but he was trying for their sake. 

“Besides all that, I have to say you can definitely fight.” Their eyes shot up to meet his, the acclaim unexpected. Their face was too emotionally soft for Techno to look at, so he turned away before speaking with a joking smirk. 

“Though I’m not too sure about your close combat.”

Gawking at the audacity, y/n lightly smacked his arm and scoffed. A smile crept on their face as they shook their head from the backhanded compliment. 

“You try training with a tree, they don’t always fight back.”

His snicker grew from their weak justification, and eventually, they joined his laughing fit. Helpless giggles replaced the once solemn air. While it soon died down, the elation of each other’s company still remained. 

Techno rose from the soft mattress and crossed his arms loosely in thought. With a single nod, his monotoned voice encouraged them considerately.

“Get some rest, we can talk later.”

Like his past departures, his steps were fast and large as he moved to exit. His hand pulled the door with him, but a shy call of his name stopped him from closing it fully shut.

“Technoblade.”

His head peaked from behind the wooden door and was met with soft eyes that expressed more gratitude than words could convey. 

“Thank you.”

“No thanks needed, kid.”

Bonus:

Shutting the door gently, Techno walked into the kitchen space with a sigh. He rubbed his eyes from the hours he spent watching them unconscious after tending to them, and heeded the voices’ command for food (real food for once, not blood).

He leisurely approached the pantry, and without turning to address him, spoke lowly.

“Not a single, word.”

Phil lowered the book in his hand and raised a hand defensively with a shrug. He was sat in the living room, obscured in the large armchair from the kitchen; Techno was aware of his presence, however, and knew of his routine.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Phil called out, though Techno was quick to respond. 

“Phil, you are the least stealthy person on this planet.”

“No, no, I’m serious. I have nothing to say.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Techno murmured a sure and moved to the front door, an apple in one hand and bag full of produce tucked in his other arm. He stated that he was going check on the animals and slammed the door close harshly.

Moments passed as Phil sat in silence, save for the crackling fire that roared beside him, before speaking as if he could still hear him. 

“To think, I sent you to the store and you brought back a kid.”

[nebula-jazz]

Your World part 2

Alpha Bakugou x reader

Rewind to when you first moved into the apartments. The owners had let you park your moving van in front of the building since you were an omega and you had no alpha.

The fact that most people were kinder to alphaless omegas in this time made both you and the dragon a little happier. speaking of the dragon he kept telling you that you should have probably asked the movers to have stayed and helped instead of sending them away. You had insisted that you could move most of the heavy boxes and the little bit of furniture by yourself. But you had felt bad because you had already made them miss their lunch to help bring up the bigger pieces like your table set and couch.

You simply brushed the overprotective dragon off. You didn’t want those foul smelling alphas to rub their scent off on your water bed or any of your nesting things. However you did agree that you did decide to carry one to many boxes as you struggled to balance them. Not only did you carry one to many they were also heavy. Most of them filled to the brim with crafting supplies and one of them carried your alphas very heavy cloak.

You remembered when you could carry all of this with ease. But as the years rolled by you let yourself to grow soft because were you used to to doing everything by yourself but after Bakugou died you had two alphas that mostly refused to let you to do heavy lifting.

Now here you were, struggling with heavy boxes, with no alphas. You felt like you kinda fucked yourself. What irked you more is that people were just watching you struggle.

You guessed you zoned out at the elevator as you tried to regain your balance so you could open it but you were brought back by it dinging. You sighed in relief as to the fact that you didn’t need to open them yourself.

You head a very familiar unnecessarily grouchy voice.

“Do you need help?” You didn't answer thinking that it was a) just your imagination and b) you were more focused on trying not to fall. You were so zoned in on not tipping that you didn’t realize that you let out a distressed scent and a panicked chirp when they started to lean too far back for your liking. Suddenly you didn’t have as many boxes and most of the weight was gone. You both rushed to get into the elevator as it had started to close. Once inside you looked up to properly thank the person who had helped you.

Your words caught in your throat as you saw a familiar face and eyes. Spiky blonde hair and glowing ruby red eyes greeted you in a resting scowl. You saw your alpha in all his jagged edges and soft line. His scent hit you like a truck and you had to take a deep breath and let out your shaky starter.

“Hi.”

The more you looked you noticed that he was obviously in a partial hero costume. You now realize that he was the Pro Ground Zero. You had never seen him before as you didn’t own a tv and your phone was strictly for calling Mina, Kirishima and business partners. But now as you stared at the duplicate of your alpha you felt your heart stopping all over again.

His scowl softened into a soft but cocky smile that had your heart doing flips.

“Hey Angel” he said flirtatiously.

“I don’t think we have met... I’m Y/N.” You said trying to calm your nerves and your howling omega. Strangely, the dragon was quiet.

“I am Katsuki Bakugou or Ground Zero. Whichever you prefer.” He said confidently.

You laughed.

“I think I will say with Bakugou.” His lips twitched in irritation. You smiled at him and shifted the box in your hand. “Thank you for helping me. what floor are you on?”

The playful glint returned to his eyes as he responded.

“6th floor. what about you?” You smiled brightly

“Same!” You tried to calmly talk to him for the rest of the ride and he helped you  take boxes to your apartment.

Bakugou absolutely refused to let you take up all of your boxes by yourself. He decided to help for the rest of the time. He had explained that he was moving himself. You tried to offer to help him as he helped you but he said that done and he was free.

He also helped you unpack and asked why you were by yourself.

“I would normally have help!” you said while you brought another box into the kitchen as he unpacked plates. “But Mina is picking up an extra patrol downtown and Kiri is covering a shift for a friend as they move!”

He stared at you for a moment.

“You know Mina and Kirishima?” You looked up from the box you were rummaging through confused.

“Yeah? Mina helps me pay for the shop I run and Kiri is my best friend.”

He snorts.

“That’s why he put up such a fight to cover my shift.”

“OH! So you are the person he is covering for?” Bakugou nods as he placed a mixer closer to the bottom than the top shelf where you had it. “Hey!” you protested.

“You could fall and break your neck.” He said in a no argument tone. A puff of frustrated steam came through your nose.

He nearly completely unpacked most of the boxes, except for your nesting items. As much as your omega was glad to see their alpha again they didn’t completely know this alpha.

Bakugou ended up dragging you to his apartment which was ironically right next to yours and fed you spicy curry. When you took the first bite you nearly cried.

Your mind was pushed back to centuries ago on the day after your marriage. you smelled something new and spicy when you woke up around noon. You remember your body being sore and you had your alpha sit behind you as you ate your fill. He had said he had refused to eat until you finished as it was tradition. You remember the warmth and the feeling of safety. You remember his asking if all human omegas were able to get pregnant. You remember replying yes. You remember his happy purrs lulling you to sleep as you felt full and content in the cave where his horde and your new nest laid.

You were brought back to a very panicked Bakugou. You waved him off.

“It’s not too spicy! I just haven’t had it in awhile.” You said in a choked voice and you proceeded to inhale the bowl and tried to wait for Bakugou to finish before asking for more. That didn’t end up happening as he refilled your bowl every time he noticed you staring at his pot of curry.

It was very late by the time you two had finished chatting and eating. Sometime you got a text from Mina and Kiri saying that they got home safe. They also sent a text saying they were both off and were able to help restock the store tomorrow. Bakugou had walked you to your apartment and made sure that you locked your doors. You fell asleep not needing to wrap yourself up in his cape. And for the first time in a long time. You didn’t have nightmares.

Bakugou was pissed that he hadn’t met this sweet omega earlier in his life. Normally omegas sweet scents gave him headaches but your honey coated earthy scent made his head spin. He gently took the soft blanket that you had wrapped yourself in as you two played chess. He might or might not have purposely turned down the thermostat so that you would need it. He was tempted to just put the blanket it the wash but when he got hit with another wave of your scent you closed your apartment door he decided to take it to his bed.

He tried to curl into his blankets without it, the blanket sitting at the end of his bed. But he ended up kicking off all of the blankets and curling into it in his sleep. He didn’t know why but he felt like you were hurt and he was the reason why. He also had the feeling that he knew you, but you two had never met before... Right?

Note

Did not expect to write as much as I did but here you go! if i had forgot to tag you please let me know! also if you enjoyed it please comment! You have no idea how much joy it brings me when I have comments galore to read and respond to! Thank you for reading and get ready for the next chapter! Side note i have no idea how many chapters this is going to be but when I do I will let you guys know.

[rolandtowen]

Prince Zuko was a harsh, entitled boy.

Firelord Zuko is a ruler who makes amends. - a study in the various side characters that Zuko came across in his banishment, and how he repays his past actions.

Read Chapter One on ao3 or under the cut! TW for referenced non-con and colonialism

[I believe @flamehotman and @flameomcfirey wanted to be tagged?]

Chapter One: Song

We will get there when we get there, don't you worry Feel bad about the things we do along the way But not really that bad We inhaled the frozen air Lord, send me a mechanic if I'm not beyond repair

- The Mountain Goats

It happened on a Tuesday afternoon.

Zuko was meeting with the agricultural council, a collection of both scholars and farmers, to discuss best practices for renewing the Fire Nations agricultural trade. For so many decades, the Fire Nation out-sourced its agriculture to land in the colonies and imported much of its food. But with the land being given back, the Fire Nation was either going to have to begin growing its own food again, or import their food at a fair price. The economic committee decided on Monday that reviving the Fire Nation farms would be far more cost effective - and of course, would create more jobs in the Fire Nation. With the war over, the number of soldiers that the military required had dropped dramatically, and there were many citizens without work. Zuko had instated severance benefits for unemployed soldiers - the ones not found guilty of war crimes of course, mostly the young recruits - but it couldn't last forever.

It was maddening. Every time Zuko unraveled one problem, he undoubtedly found or created another one. He was trying, really trying, to keep his people safe. But he also had a duty to the rest of the world. The nations that his lineage colonized, pillaged, and destroyed. He resists the urge to write to Aang, to ask him how he does it, how he balances all of the nations in every action he takes. But Aang is busy, all of his friends are, spread thin to the four corners of the world.

Uncle visits him occasionally, when the letters from staff concerned about Zuko's health pile up on his desk. One too many servants have found him, asleep at his desk, face down in treaty papers. But Uncle has his hands full. He already splits his time enough between the Jasmine Dragon and Ember Island, looking after Azula.

Azula.

She was improving, and that's really all Zuko can ask for. He sees her a couple of times a month, pours her a cup of tea, and they sit on the balcony of their vacation-house-turned-mental-retreat. Most of the time, they don't talk. Zuko won't push her; he remembers his silence in his first few months of being banished, how Uncle had to coax him to say anything at meals. Sometimes the only words he uttered in a day were in prayer before meditation. Zuko had thought to himself, speaking out got me into this mess: I'll never speak again.

He's not sure what words were exchanged between Azula and Ozai before he left her and went to burn down the Earth Kingdom, but he can guess it wasn't good. Few of his father's words were.

So they sit and drink their tea. Sometimes, on a good day, Zuko will fix up Azula's hair for her, and she'll reveal some bits of information that he files away for future examination. Something like, I saw Mom before you came with Master Katara. Or she'll double check her reality, asking, you let Ty Lee and Mai out of jail, right? and Zuko will say yes, her friends are safe, they should be visiting any day now.

As painful as seeing her may be, spending time with Azula is far preferable to sitting through an agricultural council meeting.

He looks down at the paper in front of him, a comprehensive budget list for all of the supplies needed to revitalize the Fire Nation's agricultural sphere. Dozens of machines that he's sure Sokka had a hand in inventing, hundreds of varieties of seeds that Omashu is generously selling to them, and -

Thousands of ostrich-horses.

"Councilor Yichen, can you elaborate on the number of animals in this budget? Certainly with the machines we'll provide, farmers will not need so many working livestock."

Councilor Yichen stands, giving a little bow in Zuko's direction. "Of course, Lord Zuko. While the machines will certainly boost productivity, we only have enough for one per farming village at this point. Each family needs at least one working animal, if not to plow the fields, then to transport goods. We decided on ostrich-horses on a recommendation from farmers in the Earth Kingdom colonies, who found them to be invaluable. An ostrich-horse is, in many ways, more valuable than a machine."

Zuko's stomach settles uncomfortably, but he isn't entirely sure why. "Thank you, Councilor. I understand now."

Yichen gives another little bow before he sits, and the rest of the meeting goes as planned, with the exception of a strange seed of unknown guilt now growing in Zuko's stomach.

"Uncle, do you remember when you made tea out of that poisonous plant?"

Uncle laughs, hands faltering as he pours Zuko a cup of jasmine tea. "I remember, Nephew. How could I ever forget?"

"Do you remember the girl who helped you?"

Uncle takes a sip of the warm tea. "Song. Her mother made the best roast duck." He looks at Zuko out of the corner of his eyes. "Why do you ask?"

Zuko looks out over the gardens. He's able to see the whole palace grounds from where they're seated on the second-floor balcony, watching the sun rise. As far as the eye can see, Zuko is upheld as a flawless ruler, his word taken as law. He's sick of it.

"I stole her ostrich-horse," he murmurs into his tea, taking a sip to calm his nerves. "I just remembered, in that agricultural meeting a few days ago. I - I never knew how essential those were to farmers, I just thought I was taking their ride." He turns to fully face his Uncle. "But I think I took a lot more than that."

Uncle meets his eyes with understanding. "And now you want to give it back."

"I know there's no way for me to fully apologize for how I acted in exile, but it feels like I have to try." The cup quivers a bit in his hands, and so his hands drop to his lap. "I'll need someone to watching over the Nation while I'm gone."

Uncle places one of his warm hands over Zuko's shaking ones. "I'm sure I can deal with your advisors for a few days." He squeezes his hand just slightly around Zuko's. "I'm proud to see that even in a few short months, your wisdom as a ruler is growing. Go, make your amends. The Nation will be here when you return." Uncle calls for Zuko's secretary and tells her to clear as much of the Firelord's schedule as she can for the next week. Their voices fade into the background as Zuko stares into his tea, wracking his brain to try and figure out how to track down just one girl in the entire Earth Kingdom. Sending scouts or soldiers from town to town is a recipe for disaster, and the Earth Kingdom villages have been traumatized enough. He supposes he could always call in a ride on his favorite air bison but - this feels like something he should do on his own.

If Song hates him, it might be hard for her to show it in front of the Avatar.

So he'll go alone. No friends, no royal guard. He'll come into Song's town the same way he came last time - defenseless. She can hate him if she wants, he'll give her that.

And he'll try to give back what he took from her.

He packs light, pulling an old tunic and boots from the back of his wardrobe. Though they've been thoroughly cleaned by the palace staff, the scent of campfires and smoke linger upon them. He grabs a cloak - the Earth Kingdom will be starting to chill at this time of year - and he slips out of the palace, using the servant's entrance to get onto the streets unseen.

Autumn comes quietly in the Earth Kingdom. The trees slowly lose their color, giving the last of their strength into vibrant leaves. Soldiers previously conscripted to fight in the war have either returned to their families or have gone to tend to the scorched earth where the Phoenix King made landfall. They clear the debris of fallen airships, making room for the earth to slowly restore herself.

Song envies those soldiers.

Their lives have changed with the ending of the war, but Song's life continues on, its mundane routine continuing over and over again. She cares for a small garden, crafts herbal remedies for her neighbors, and tries to make her mother comfortable. She curses the Spirits for their cruel sense of humor - her mother survives the greatest war ever seen, lives through the attempted invasion of her homeland, only to be struck down by frailty months after the end of it all. Hasn't she suffered enough? Song has whispered those words to the woods on her way to the well time and time again. Now, her body is just - stopping.

Her mother is dying and there's nothing she can do.

Song knows all living things have their time. And she's seen too many living beings go before their rightful time. But she never imagined her mother's time would be in a time of peace. Wasn't ending the war supposed to stop all this pain? Apparently not. She tries not to become bitter, knows that that's the last thing her mother would want for her, but - it hurts. And there's not a damn thing she can do about it.

The leaves from dying trees crackle under her feet.

She arrives at the well, alone. Her hometown is just barely beginning to wake up, rising from its slumber as mothers bring in dry clothes from the clotheslines and fathers begin to toil in the fields. Children run freely from street to street, with a joy that was forbidden during the Fire Nation's occupation. They're kicking at a ball, passing it from one pair of bare feet to another, and Song smiles at them. Someday, maybe.

She sets her water jug on the stone wall of the well and begins to lower the bucket before hearing the ball make impact and a man's voice grunt, "oof!". She spins rapidly around to see a young man, rear planted firmly in the dirt, one hand rubbing at his forehead while the other wipes at a watering eye. The group of children stand, frozen, and she gives them a look, and unspoken command to stay and apologize to the man they just hit with their ball.

"Here, take my hand," Song holds out her right hand, and the man takes it. When the young man meets her eyes, she almost drops him back in the dirt. He has those amber eyes, and she can just see under his loose hair - a burn scar. "Lee?!"

He stands, brushing dust from his cloak, and she catches the hints of red fabric that lie beneath. She recoils. He sighs. "Um, about that." Song sees his hands tremble against his cloak. "My name's not Lee - and I'm from the Fire Nation."

Song reacts as if she'd been slapped. She trips backwards, away from Not Lee, landing hard against the stone of the well. Her leg is aching, feels like its on fire all over again, looking into those amber eyes.

"How could you? I let you into my home." She braces her hands against the well, her leg threatening to give out at any moment. "Now it all makes sense, that you stole from me. That's all you ashmakers are good for." She spits, and it lands on his scarred cheek. "You take land that isn't yours, take women that aren't yours, you take lives!" Her leg finally collapses, and she sinks to the ground with her back against the well. Not Lee makes a move, and she throws her hands up. "Don't you touch me," she grits out, clutching at her leg. He stills, and she wraps her arms around herself, bringing her knees to her chest. "I pitied you, you know? I thought your mother must've been - I looked at your eyes and thought you were a victim like me, like my mother." Her whole body is trembling, but she doesn't care. "But I bet you know who your father is, I bet you're proud to have his eyes."

Not Lee mirrors her, curling in on himself, not even bothering to wipe his face clean. "I do know who my father is, but I'm not proud of him." He looks up to meet her eyes, and Song is struck by how young he looks. When she'd last seen him, he'd looked gaunt, malnourished, with sharp cheekbones. Now, his face had filled out and he looks - young? The scar makes him look older as well, but when you look on the opposite side of his face - all she can see is a kid, couldn't be older than a teenager.

And he was crying.

Stubborn as he is, Not Lee is resolutely ignoring the tears slowly falling from his eyes, but nevertheless - they fell. Song didn't expect that reaction. Tears are not what she expected from a Fire National. Anger, rage, violence - those are the things she's tasted at the hands of firebenders, but this? This is new.

"I'm sorry," Not Lee whispers, looking at his feet. "I came to apologize, I wanted to repay you for your kindness and return what I took. But I think I've overstayed my welcome." He scrubs at his face roughly with the heel of one hand. "But I am, truly sorry. I acted selfishly the last time I was in your home, and I took advantage of your compassion. And I understand that my nation has done even worse. I'm trying to make it better." He pulls his hair back with a band. "I know you have no reason to trust me, but I would like to purchase you a new ostrich-horse. And anything else you or your mother may require."

Without warning, Not Lee shifts from his seat position to a bowing one, kneeling with his head pressed to the dry earth. Song stares at him for a small eternity, before realizing that he's waiting, unmoving, for her response. For her judgement.

She lets out a small breath. "Okay," his eyes flick up to hers and her stomach twists. The way he bows is so precise - it must have been drilled into him hundreds of times before. Another thing she wouldn't have expected from a firebender. "Come to dinner."

He stands after she does and gives another slight bow. As they begin the walk back to Song's home, he offers to carry her water jug, and Song feels more weight than one lifted from her.

"What did you say your name was again, young man?" Mei pokes at Zuko's shoulder as she hobbles to the table.

"Mom, I'm sorry about her, she's getting older," Song sets a bowl of fragrant roast duck in front of him and Zuko feels his mouth begin to water.

"No, it's okay, I don't think I've actually properly introduced myself." He takes a quick sip of tea - bracing himself for whatever will happen next - and calmly sets the mug back down. "My name is Zuko," he begins slowly. "AndI'mkindoftheFirelord."

There's the sound of Song dropping a bowl in the kitchen, and Mei leans in a bit closer to Zuko.

"Sorry, dear, could you say that again? My ears aren't what they used to be."

Zuko opens his mouth to respond, but Song slowly enters the room, her eyes narrowed in on Zuko. "You said - you're the firelord?" He nods at her, waiting for her to swing a knife at him, kick him out of their home, call some earthbenders to rough him up -

Before his panic can start to set in, Song runs out the front door, slamming it behind her.

Zuko looks helplessly at Mei.

"Give her a moment." Mei brings her pair of chopsticks to her mouth. "Hmm, she still doesn't make it as well as I used to."

"What about you? Do you hate me?"

Mei sighs, putting her bowl down. "I'm too old for hate, dear. My time in this world is almost over. I can't spend it hating world rulers." She takes a sip of her tea. "But Song? She -" Mei sighs again. "She's been hurt deeply by the Fire Nation, in more ways than one. And it isn't just you. But for a long time, the monarchy has been the embodiment of everything terrible that's ever happened to her. And now you're here, standing in front of her."

Zuko nods. "I understand. And I am sorry, to you as well. I don't think I fully understood the reach of the war. I was always taught that the army acted with honor, that women and children were untouchable." He looks down at his folded hands. "I can see that was false."

"Unfortunately, you are correct." She reaches between them to refill Zuko's cup, then Song's, and hands them both to him. "Go to her. A bit of tea should help bring you some good favor."

The screen door opens and closes, and Zuko finds himself out on the porch. Song sits on the edge, absently massaging her leg, peering into the darkness of the forest.

"Can I join you?"

She shrugs, and he takes that as a yes. Handing over her tea, Zuko sits besides her and tries to find what she sees in the darkness.

For a few minutes, the only sounds are those of them drinking and crickets chirping. Then Song speaks.

"His name was Bao."

Treasured. Precious. Rare.

"That's a lovely name."

"What happened to him?" Song turns abruptly to look at him with shining eyes. "Did he...?"

Zuko shakes his head emphatically. "My Uncle and I traded him to a florist for safe passage to Ba Sing Se. The florist seemed like a good man."

"You went to Ba Sing Se?"

Zuko runs one hand down the back of his neck. "I might have conquered it, actually?"

Sing snorts. "That part I've heard about. You've lived an interesting life, Zuko."

"If by 'interesting' you mean messy, then yes." He sighs. "You had no reason to trust me. Why did you let me back into your home?"

Song laughs, tinged with bitterness. "My mother says I'm too trusting, too gullible." She swirls the dregs of her tea around the bottom of her cup. "But I think there's strength in being kind. And I really did want to forgive you. But you have to be ready."

"And do you think I am?"

She smiles softly at him. "For me, yes. But my guess is I'm not the only person you hurt in exile." She gulps down her remaining tea. "They may not be as forgiving as I am."

"I'm preparing myself for that possibility."

"Does it scare you?"

Zuko ponders it. "I think it does. The idea that I've hurt someone innocent so badly that they may never be able to move past it... that keeps me up at night."

Songs turns towards him, tucking her knees up to her chest. "We can't control how other people see us in this life. How they react to our actions is up to them - all that we can control is our response. You have to be ready to accept that someone may not be ready to forgive you, and you can't let that eat you up." She stares at him intently. "You have to confident that your own actions are enough. That they're good."

It's Zuko's turn to laugh sourly. "Easier said than done," his hand wanders to his scar. "Sometimes I'm still not sure if what I'm doing is right."

"You don't have to do it alone, you know," Song gives him an understanding look. "You need other people around you, Zuko, to remind you what's good."

He huffs, looking down at his hands, folded in his lap. "Do you want to be one of those people?"

"I think you have more than enough goodness surrounding you already. You just have to be confident enough to ask." She sighs, looking back out into the darkness. "Besides, I have to stay here with my mother. She doesn't have long."

"Are you sure there's nothing I can do? I could send my healers -"

She shakes her head, cutting him off midsentence. "It's her time." She begins to rub at her scars again. "I just didn't know how much it would hurt. We finally have some peace, and suddenly it's her time."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, not for this. It's due to you that she'll be able to die during peacetime." Her hands come to her eyes, wiping tears away before they can spill down her cheeks. "Her biggest fear was that she'd die and leave me alone to fend for myself during the war. You released her from that fear. Of course I forgive you, Zuko. My mother's no longer scared of dying because of you."

The two of them are silent for a long time, watching fireflies flicker off and on in the trees, listening to the crickets sing.

"I'm going to find Bao for you."

Song looks up in surprise. "You don't have to-"

"I want to, I'm sure he's still out there somewhere." Zuko rises from his seat. "If you ever need anything, anything, you write directly to me. I'll tell my staff that you're a priority."

"Are you leaving?" Song stands as well. "You could stay, if you want."

Zuko shakes his head silently. "I have to get back, and travelling by night is best for a Firelord who doesn't want his identity revealed," he smiles, his scarred skin relaxing into it. With that, he pulls his hair out of its topknot, grabs his pack and swords, and starts to disappear into the night.

"Firelord Zuko?" He stops and turns back at the sound of Song's voice. She makes the sign of the flame and bows. "Thank you, for everything." He bows back, lower than protocol dictates, but he doesn't care.

Three weeks pass, and the air has turned bitterly cold.

Song again makes her daily trip to the village well, with snow crunching under her feet instead of dead leaves. The soldiers have returned from their work in restoring fields for the season, and so the village feels alive when she steps into it. Despite the chill, children still run in the street, under the watchful eye of their mothers and fathers. Song feels a twinge of longing, but she tries to focus on the happiness she feels for the children instead. Song sets her water jug on the side of the well, breathing hot air into her palms to warm her hands after touching the freezing stone.

"Excuse me, miss, are you Song?" A voice comes from behind her, and she turns to see two men dressed in red tunics.

"I am," she replies, tucking her hands into the pockets of her hanbok. "And you are?"

They bow to her. "We come on behalf of Firelord Zuko, to deliver a gift." A third man rounds the corner with an ostrich-horse on a tether. "We found him at a desert settlement, he's been well taken care of, but if there's anything you need -"

They're cut off as Song runs to throw her arms around the neck of the ostrich-horse. "Bao!" She strokes his beak, looking into his eyes. "Do you remember me?"

Bao cocks his head to the side, pupils widening as he chirps softly, and then he lets out a loud whinny, pushing his head into Song's chest. He purrs, closing his eyes and relaxes against her.

"Sweet Bao, it's really me, you're really home," Song can feel her eyes dampening, but holds it together as one of the men hands her a bit of parchment.

"A note from the Firelord. He wanted us to remind you that you can write to him anytime you need anything."

Song nods. "And tell him I said 'thank-you' again." Bao whinnies loudly again, and she adds on, "Bao says 'thank-you' too."

"Of course, miss." With a synchronized bow, the men depart, and Song unrolls the parchment.

Song,

I've followed your advice and surrounded myself with good people. It helps.

Give my best to your mother - my Uncle still talks about her roast duck sometimes. I've established a fund specially for women and child victims of the war, inspired by some of what you and Mei shared with me. Write me if you feel like you or anyone in your village wants to apply for it.

And, thank you for trusting and forgiving me. I'll try to keep earning it.

May the Spirits continually bless you,

Zuko

She tucks the parchment into her pocket, fills her jug, and finds herself back in Bao's familiar saddle after more than a year. "Come on, Bao," she says as she takes the lead into her hands, guiding them back to the empty farmhouse.

"Let's go home."

[if you read through this whole thing, go drink some water! I'll know if u don't :) ]

[cassiabaggins]

Gifts

A/N: Part/day five! I hope you enjoy and thank you so much for the comments on the previous parts!

Wordcount: 3k

Tags: @anjhope1 @deathlikessodaandpizza @guardianofrivendell @myrin1234 @wettomatodude @lothloriien @annkdarar @artsywaterlily @hmmm-what-am-i-doing @drowingintheempty @estethell @claraofthepen @kilielweek

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Warnings: none, it’s pure fluff. Unless Kili being cheeky counts as a warning...

Summary: Kili and Tauriel share a late night picnic, a carefully made gift, a kiss under the moonlight, and a promise.

It starts off as a simple sketch of a bow on the corner of a piece of parchment. Kili is no great artist, but he knows his projectile weapons, and he stares at this little sketch for a long while, just thinking. Then, he goes to inspect the woodworker’s guild. It starts on a whim, a fine stave of yew laying set aside for some project. He picks it up absently, turning it over in his hands. 

“A fine choice in wood there, Your Highness!” one of the guilddwarrow says. 

“Yew, is it not?” he queries idly.

“Aye! And a fine specimen! Fine bows are made of that wood, but being an archer I suppose you already know that.”

Kili nods. “I do. Say, is anyone using this stave?”

“I don’t believe so, sir, but what do you mean to do with it, begging your pardon?”

“I know someone who needs a new bow,” he says. “Hers was broken.”

“Broken? Ah, mighty bad luck, having your primary weapon break.”

“Aye, mighty bad luck indeed.”

.

The following weeks are filled with rough drafts, mock ups, practice carvings, and an obscene amount of frustration. Somewhere along the way, this bow doesn’t become just a bow, but a courting gift -- and that means it must be perfect. Because she is perfect. He finally settles on a simple recurve bow, short but powerful, made for tight spaces and quick draws, perfect for the flexible yew. After deciding on the type of bow, and sketching up the shape, he heads out into the woods to find arrows. He decides on pine, and harvests a good amount of straight, light shafts, then heads to where the animals are kept within Erebor to hunt down some fletching. A butcher has just slaughtered several turkeys, and it is simple enough for Kili to purchase the tail and wing feathers. “Making arrows, Your Highness?” The butcher guesses, spying the pine shafts strapped to Kili’s back. He nods. 

“Aye. My quiver is running a bit low.”

“Ah, it happens. Glad to be of service to you, and fine feathers these are, too!”

“The finest,” Kili grins, admiring the barred black and white feathers. “I wouldn’t go for anything less. Say, next time you butcher an ox, let me know, I am in need of a new bowstring.”

The butcher agrees readily, happy to be of service to the prince, and Kili leaves walking on air. 

Back in his workshop, Kili drafts up several designs for arrowheads and the final curve he wants for the bow, and then gets to work. Although driven and determined, he knows he must work slowly and carefully, for woodworking is not his craft.

It takes him the better part of a month to make the bow. Then, he can move onto his other gift: courting beads. He's been thinking carefully about not only what material he wants to make them out of, but also what shape. When he finds a fist-sized fire opal while sorting through the treasury, he has the most perfect idea. Thankfully, jewelling is his craft.

.

Tauriel has taken up permanent residence in Dale, ending up as leader of the city's guard, and the ragtag but earnest group of former fishermen fall into line quickly under her stern command. The sun is just beginning to set and the evening autumn air is crisp and inviting when she returns home. As she nears her house, she sees a person standing on her doorstep, too short to be a man and too broad to be a child. "Kili?"

He turns, the golden light bathing his face, and his grin stuns her a bit with its wideness. "Hullo, amrâlimê !" He says, coming towards her. He takes her hand with all the grace of the prince he is and places a chaste kiss on the back of it. 

"You are being silly," she informs him. He grins wider. 

"Perhaps."

She huffs a little and brushes past him to enter her house, and he saunters in after her with all the airs of owning the place. "Why are you here, Kili?"

Although she pretends she isn't bothered by the fact that it has been nearly a month since she saw him last, truthfully, it is bothering her. Immensely. 

“I’m here to ask if you’d like to go on a bit of a jaunt with me,” he replies. She turns and gapes at him. 

“I’m sorry?”

“A picnic, to be precise. I’ve a basket all set up, some lovely dwarven wine… I’ve pulled out all the stops, Tauriel, you can hardly say no.”

She splutters a bit. “It's almost sundown!"

"It's not like you can't have picnics at night. C'mon, it'll be fun!" 

It's not that she doesn't want to go, it's just that the whole thing is so sudden. "I… I’ve just come back from guard duty! I’m in my armor!”

“I am aware,” he replies blithely. “I can wait until you change into something more comfortable.” He glances at her appreciatively. “Or you can stay in that. I wouldn’t be bothered.”

Tauriel sighs. There’s really no getting out of this one (not that she especially wants to, anyway). “Give me a moment.”

Kili sits down at her kitchen table. “Take your time, amrâlimê.”

Tauriel hurries up the stairs and into her bedroom, setting aside her bow (her third, the other two having snapped from her elvish strength) and arrows, and casting off her armor with hands that are almost trembling with excitement. She throws open her wardrobe doors… and stops. What does one wear on a nighttime picnic? A dress? She hardly has anything suitable, mostly trousers and tunics populate her wardrobe. She spends a bit wavering between clothes before deciding on something simple. It’s not like they’re courting or anything.

She retrieves her cloak and hurries back out to Kili, who greets her with a grin when he sees her. 

“Ready?” he asks, and she nods. 

.

They ride out to the eastern shores of Long Lake, Tauriel on her horse Aearon, and Kili on his sturdy pony, Granite. The water is glassy smooth before them as they stop their mounts at the last bit of grass and dismount. Kili hands Granite's reins to Tauriel and  begins unbuckling his saddle bag, maneuvering his body between his mount and her as if he's trying to hide something. 

"Go find a good spot on the sand," he says, "and start a fire." He hands her a tinderbox and takes back the reins. "I'll bring the food and rub down the ponies." 

She doesn't bother to tell him Aearon is hardly a pony, just takes the tinderbox and heads toward the shore, kicking her boots off at the edge and heading barefoot on to the cool sand. Kili looks after her, admiring the way the sunlight turns her hair to flame. Granite nudges his arm, drawing him back to reality, and he scratches her forehead, sliding off her bridle. “Sorry, girl. I got distracted.” His pony ruffles her mane and ducks her head to snatch up a few mouthfuls of grass. “D’you think she’ll like it?” he asks her. She ignores him. 

Aearon, however, peers at him out of one eye, rather like he thinks Kili is entirely ridiculous. Kili stares right back, raising an eyebrow challengingly, and gets back to untacking them both. He sets the saddles near a tree and hoists his saddlebags to his shoulder, making sure the gift is well hidden. 

Tauriel is waiting for him on the sand, next to a small but slowly growing fire and a pile of driftwood. Kili drops the saddlebags and pulls out a blanket. "Help me spread this out, won't you?"  

She moves to help him. “Is there a reason you dragged me all the way out here?” She asks.

“I told you,” he replies, kicking his boots off at the edge of the blanket and sitting down on the soft wool. “A picnic.” He pats the space next to him with a smile of invitation and drags one of the saddle bags towards him. 

She sits gracefully, wiggling her bare toes under the sand. At first, their conversation is a little stilted, but as time passes, the tension eases.

“Isn’t that cold?” he asks with a laugh, unpacking food and setting up a spit over the fire. She shrugs.

“A little. I like the way it feels.”

Kili laughs again and she smiles at him. 

“Are you doing the cooking?” She asks. 

“Aye, unless you’d like to help.”

“I can’t,” she says. He stares at her, midway through spitting the chicken he brought, already pre seasoned.

“What?”

“I can’t cook.”

“What do you mean you can’t cook?”

“Well, I’ve never really had to. Back in Mirkwood, my meals would be prepared for me. For all of the guard, actually.”

Kili balances the chicken on the spit. “Well, what did you do when you couldn’t get back in time for meals? Or when you were on a trip? Or when you were gone these past few years? Did you just not eat?”

“Of course I ate!” She replies. “I’d eat lembas!”

He gives her a quizzical look. “Lembath?”

“Lembas,” she laughs. “Elvish waybread. It lasts for ages and even one bite can fill your stomach. It’s the perfect travel food. I had a supply with me when I left Mirkwood, and it kept until I left Erebor. I restocked in Rivendell, and again in Lothlorien.”

“Oh. I see.” He looks into the flames for a moment, then says, “Tell me of your travels, Tauriel.”

She peers over at him, at the firelight bathing his face in the after sundown, before moonrise darkness, and frowns. She would think he wouldn’t want to hear of it, of how she abandoned him, but… she nods slowly and begins her tale. Kili listens closely as he tends to the food cooking. Whenever he looks up to watch her, he is enchanted by her bright eyes and dancing hands. There’s something different about her, he realizes. He hadn’t noticed it until tonight. When she had first come back he hadn’t been able to think about anything but how happy he was to see her again, and in the past month he’d been too preoccupied with his gift to notice. 

“Tauriel,” he starts, interrupting her story. She pauses midway through telling him about the plains of Rohan and looks down at him expectantly. 

“Yes?”

“Why did you leave?”

She bites her bottom lip.

“Was it because of me?”

“No! Oh, Kili, no!” She crawls over and takes his hand, squeezing it comfortingly. “It was nothing you did! I just… I needed to figure something out.”

He looks down at their joined hands and then up into her green eyes. “What did you need to figure out?”

“I wanted to find out who I was outside of what I’ve always known. I’ve always been Tauriel, Captain of the Mirkwood Guard… But, Mirkwood isn’t my home anymore. That’s not who I am anymore. I needed to find out who Just Tauriel was, outside of duty.”

“Did you find out?” he asks gently.

“I believe so.”

“You seem different.”

Concern flits over her face. “Different? A bad different or a good different?”

“Good different. Definitely good different. You seem… I don’t know, more at peace with yourself.” He slips his fingers through hers. “I like it.”

“I’m glad,” she whispers. 

“If that’s why you left,” he asks, “why did you come back? I would think living here on the edge of the forest would be painful.”

She looks down at him with a smile. “I guess I didn’t realize how much I would miss you.”

��I did,” He replies. “I missed you so badly I dreamed of you at night.”

She blinks at him, and then her cheeks flush pink. “I… I…”

“Tauriel? Is something wrong?”

“It’s just… I dreamed of you, too.”

“Nightmares of me dying?” He asks cynically. She nods, and he sighs. “Thought so.”

“Not all of them though,” She murmurs, looking away from him. “Many of them were pleasant. I mean… oh my, look at the moon!”

Kili looks over the horizon to see the moon rising over the lake, huge and red. A firemoon. Tauriel stands and walks to the edge of the water, gazing up at it with wide eyes. Kili watches her, framed by the moon, her hair cascading down her back in a stream of molten gold. This is as good a time as ever.

.

“Tauriel.”

She looks down to see Kili standing at her side, something behind his back. “Isn’t it lovely?” She says, gesturing to the moon. 

“It is. Almost as lovely as you.”

A blush once again flares over her cheeks, visible even in the dark. “You flatter me.”

“I mean it,” He says sincerely. “I know I’ve been rather absent the past month, but the truth is, I’ve been working on something. For you.” From behind his back, he takes whatever he had been hiding and holds it out to her. Whatever it is, it is wrapped in a cloth, which she carefully peels back to reveal the most beautiful bow, quiver, and set of arrows she has ever seen. 

“Oh my…” 

“Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful.”

He hands it to her. “Try it out. See how it feels.”

She takes it almost hesitantly, stringing it with the bowstring he provides, and carefully nocks an arrow. It bends with ease, but there is no hint of any possible breakage. She aims at a tree several paces away and releases. The arrow flies true into its target. Tauriel lowers the bow, unable to keep the grin off her face, and admires the green leather grips and the silver inlays, the iron tipped arrows, the barred fletching… it’s designed and made with love and care. 

"This is a lovely bow," she says. He beams at her. "But, Kili, you must know, I can't keep this! You worked so hard on it!"

His smile doesn't fall. "I don't think you're understanding, amrâlimê," he says. "I made it for you. It's a courting gift."

"A cour…" she stares at him, eyes wide. "Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious! Why wouldn't I be serious?"

"W-well, I don't know, I… I just… oh my stars!" 

Kili takes her hand. "That's not the only thing I have for you." Gently, he turns her hand over and opens her fingers, placing a small silken bag on her palm. "I wanted to make this official. These are for you. Well, us. They're courting beads."

He lets go of her hand and steps back, looking at her expectantly. Tauriel hesitates for a moment. Dwarven courting is completely alien to her. Finally, she sets down the bow and sits down on the sand, patting the space beside her. Kili sits down eagerly and grins at her, nodding a little. "Go ahead! Open it! I actually got to use my Craft for this gift."

Tauriel smiles at his eagerness and carefully opens the pouch, emptying the contents into her palm. It's a pair of beads, just as Kili said, made out of some strange shimmering jewel, shot through with all sorts of colors: blue and orange and green and red and purple, and carved in the shape of a crescent moon. Tauriel can't stop the gasp that escapes her. 

"Oh, Kili," she breathes. 

He scoots closer to her and reaches over her arm, lifting one of the beads. It shimmers in the moonlight. "We call these fire opals. They're notoriously hard to work with. But the colors… they…"

"They're stunning," she says earnestly.

"They're supposed to represent the fire moon," he murmurs, looking up at her, the red moon reflecting in his dark eyes, in a way that makes him so beautiful that her breath catches in her throat. "Back in Mirkwood, I promised I'd show you a fire moon someday, did I not?"

"You did," she breathes. "You have. Three times over." She means not only the moon above them, but the two tiny ones nestled in her palm. He smiles up at her. 

“So, do you accept my suit?”

She wavers for a moment, unsure, self doubt creeping in. Not only is he a prince, he is a dwarf, and there is a very, very good chance their love is doomed. But then she sees his hopeful face and bright eyes, and the fear evaporates like dew on a summer morning. "I do," she murmurs. 

Kili beams so wide it's blinding. "Then may I braid your hair?" She bends slightly so her hair pools in his lap.

"You may."

The braid he weaves is beautiful, the beads glimmering at the end of it. She’s distracted from admiring it when he cups her face in his hand and draws her face down near his. “May I kiss you?” he asks softly. She nods, sliding her hand behind his head and drawing his face close to hers. 

“This won’t be easy,” he whispers when they part. “Tensions in the Mountain are still high. Very few will accept this, and even less will be happy for us.”

“I know,” she says. “But I’m willing to fight for us.”

“So no more running?”

“No more running.” 

She presses her forehead to his. “Kili, there’s one thing I never understood. Why did you never come after me?”

“I thought about it,” he admits, “especially on nights when resisting the goldsickness got too much, or when the pressure of my duties felt like it was crushing me, I would be just minutes away from packing up and running after you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He shrugs. “Because every time I almost did, I’d dream of you that night. That would help. It was like you were still with me. And besides, I couldn’t leave my brother, he had it worse.”

“You’re a good brother.” She touches his cheek and kisses him again. “I admire that about you.”

“You do?”

“I do.” She smiles. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I have no idea, I am very admirable, after all.”

Tauriel laughs and shoves him so he flops backward. “Don’t be cocky, Kili.”

He grabs her arm and pulls her with him, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her tenderly. “But you love me anyway.”

“I do,” she says, and kisses him back.

[votederpycausemufins]

Alright. another chapter. Last one had a lot of focus on Jrum, this time it’s Grum. and not only and I tagging @petrichormeraki, i’m also tagging @helleborusangel because i love their rambles and they deserve to be tagged.

When Jrum next fully woke up, Grum was nowhere to be seen. In his place, however, was someone currently doing their best to sit in a chair that was better fit for the bots. They were wearing a black cloak with white accents and a hood that hid most of their face. Based on Jrum’s readings, they were also nine and a half feet tall. There was also the fact that they were currently staring right at Jrum. “Uh… h-hello?”

“Hi! I’m glad to see you’re awake again!” Jrum instantly recognized the voice. Even though he had been low on battery most of the time, he could still recall it as the voice of the person who had helped him.

“Uh… hi. Thanks for helping me earlier… and stuff…”

“Oh it was no trouble! I was just surprised to find you and you didn’t look like you were doing so well so I of course was going to help!”

“Well thank you… I’m Jrum-” Jrum hesitated, almost saying the second half of his name, but decided against it. “-and uh… I guess you already met my brother Grum… What’s your name?”

“I’m BadBoyHalo, but most people just call me Bad. And wait, you said brother? Really? What was that about?”

Jrum looked away, finding the blanket of his bed and wrapping himself in it. “I don’t know. I guess he just hates me now. He just… he called me stupid because I’m only really good at redstone, and then he called what I like stupid and just said that I c-can’t do anything on m-my own a-and…”

“Hey, I’m sure whatever he was saying wasn’t true!”

“But part of it was… W-We’ve been here s-so long a-and our d-dads haven’t shown up. Dad should’ve f-found us already… but he hasn’t. G- My brother and I were… b-built… s-so maybe our dads just replaced us… and… th-they don’t… l-love us anymore.”

“Well, I haven’t known you very long and I think you’re okay. I’m sure if your dads think that, then they weren’t the best dads in the first place.”

Jrum nodded a little. Hearing someone say that about his dads sort of hurt, but he had sort of been thinking that way anyway. And now Grum acting like he was was just making everything feel worse. Obviously his brother didn’t like him, but also thought he couldn’t do anything by himself. So Jrum was just going to have to prove him wrong.

The younger bot lumped out of bed and went over to the chests where he had put all his resources. Trying to fit everything in his inventory was a little tricky, but if he left a few unnecessary items that he could get elsewhere or craft again later, he was able to grab everything. He then remembered the clay he had cooking earlier and ran over to the furnace, glad to see it full of bricks which he crafted into pots, leaving an extra brick that he hadn’t used in a chest.

Jrum had gotten so caught up in what he was doing, he had completely forgotten the guest until running into them. “Ah! I’m sorry! I forgot you were still here!”

“Aww, no. It’s alright. What are you doing?”

“My brother said he thinks I can’t do anything by myself, so I’m going to show him he’s wrong! I don’t need to build some fancy place like this! A box with windows works just as well! Who cares if he thinks it looks ugly! And… And I’ll fill it with redstone and plants! That’ll show him! He’ll come visit me and he’ll be sad he isn’t as cool as me!”

“Yeah! I’m sure that will show him.”

“In fact! I can move into the cave and live there!”

“Ye- wait, you mean where the Egg is?” Bad asked, confusing Jrum.

“Egg? You mean the big plant in the cave where you found me?”

“Yeah! That’s the egg! I’m guessing you like it?”

“Well, it is really pretty. And I dunno… it feels safe being near it.”

“Oh, I have got to show you to Ant. In fact, until you have a new place to stay, you can live with me for a bit!”

Jrum smiled. “You’d be okay with that?”

“Uh, yeah! I’m the one offering!”

“Then…” Jrum thought it over. Bad did seem really nice, and it could take a day to build his charger and home. And he really was offering. “I guess that sounds good!”

It was a little odd as they were leaving, Bad needing to hunch over to get through the doors and then continuing to walk that way as he took Jrum’s hand even though the little bot was perfectly fine with just holding onto his cloak. They didn’t get far before Jrum stopped them and instead held his arms up, something that was quickly interpreted and Jrum was lifted up into the air and into Bad’s arms, making the travel much quicker.

Grum watched as his brother was put back in bed by their guest. Even though he had built the place, the glares from the person were not fun to be around, especially because it seemed that whoever this was seemed to be slowly shifting into a more monstrous form from anger. So, not wanting to stay around, Grum stood up and grabbed some tools before leaving. Hopefully once he returned, they would be gone, possibly also with his brother.

He wanted to make sure he had supplies, so mining would be a good idea right now. The thing was, this place was obviously populated and likely devoid of resources. And if it was anything like [:)], then he would need to travel out a bit. It would be easy with elytra, but it wasn’t like there seemed to be a place to buy any, and if he was going to go get any, he would need at the very least some diamond gear.

With everyone being a bit of a mess, Grum walked down the main path, a sign labeling it the ‘Prime Path’. It seemed to lead all the way to a place with crafting tables making up the floor which Grum was trying his best to ignore. It wasn’t his build and he didn’t even have anything to replace it with on him at the moment. From there he went around a large castle and kept on going. And going. And going. He eventually ended up boating further until he found a pillager outpost. It didn’t look looted from what he could tell, so Grum made sure to get a bit of distance from it before making a small area of himself to start mining down at.

He wasn’t going to go that far, but then something caught Grum’s eye. A mountain. And not just any mountain. Grum tilted his back to look up at it, the land continuing skyward. This didn’t look natural. It wasn’t like he had much experience from places other than [:)], but this looked like it was from an exemplified world, not a regular one. And it piqued Grum’s interest. His mind was suddenly coming up with ideas for a mega base. He would need to make a path through the nether with how far out this was, but it wouldn’t be too terribly bad. Maybe it would be a city like how [:)] or [:)] made. Or possibly it could be reminiscent of his [:)]’s base. Perhaps something entirely new. 

Grum was curious just how far up it really went. That would help him plan how it would look. So he started climbing. A large waterfall adorned the place which Grum used to get most of the way up, but from there it was mainly mining into the cliffside and placing blocks. When Grum finally reached the top, he paused to look at the skyline, shadows slowly growing longer in the evening. This was perfect. Jrum could keep the house for all he cared, - he cared he really did - this was where he was going to live. Perhaps he would make another starter base right… where the lodestone was?

Grum was surprised. Why was there a lodestone here of all places? Was it just someone marking this place down because they found it cool like him? But then why make a lodestone and not a map. You would likely remember the general direction and follow the map from there. Why waste netherite on this? Maybe it was some sort of minigame like [:)] would make? But there wasn’t anything else up here. Unless it was underground? Grum looked at the various statistics. It did look like there was some cave system below if the C value was correct. Perhaps that was it.

Grum started to staircase down. He nearly fell when it opened to a curve in the mountain where there was nothing below, making Grum use a water bucket and jumping into the water that flowed down. He looked around at the opening, still finding no sign of anything remarkable, before going to one of the faces of the cliff to continue going down. 

Just before the stone broke, Grum paused. Stone, stone, more stone. It was like the entire cliff face was just stone. There wasn’t any granite or andesite or diorite. No coal ore patched on the wall. And it was pristine. There weren’t any pockets where those things would have been mined or cobble blocking those areas up. And the wall was perfectly flat. Compared to another cliff face a bit to Grum’s left which did have what was normally there, it was unnatural. And sure, the mountain in and of itself was unnatural, but this was even more so.

Grum realized it. This was what the lodestone was for. To guide someone here. Trick someone into looking above and not below. At a glance it would probably look natural enough, but Grum had noticed it. So he broke unto the wall. Right on the other side was a hollow area. Ahead was the natural land of the mountain with dirt, diorite and granite. The walls were lined with an almost unnecessary amount of torches. And right in the center of it all was a platform of blackstone and obsidian.

Grum stepped onto the platform and found there was a hole in the middle. The hole led down an obsidian tube that opened up to a cavern that went all the way down to bedrock based on the ground down there. Someone had filled in the gaps that would have been various types of stone and instead placed blackstone bricks and redstone lamps, giving an eerie vibe. And then, if Grum angled his head just right, he could see what looked to be giant posters featuring music discs.

The bot didn’t know what was down there, but based on the fact that it seemed to be some sort of redstone machine that was used to go up and down, someone was likely already down there. While he could use water, that would be extremely noticeable and by the time he reached the bottom, whoever was down there would be ready to attack or something. But there was one other way down. 

Grum stepped back, making sure he was nine blocks away from the center of the hole. He then placed down a small tower of four scaffolding pieces on the block in front of him, climbing on top of it. He then started extending the scaffolding, until it was six blocks ahead, then seven, and finally the eighth piece was put down and the rest of the structure couldn’t hold it, leaving the piece to fall all the way to the bottom. Grum let two more pieces fall before breaking the rest of his scaffolding and putting it back in his inventory. Then he jumped into the hole.

Grum braced himself as he aimed for the scaffolding. If he missed, he would definitely take too much fall damage. If he didn’t catch the scaffolding right, it would be the safe fate. But Grum managed to grab onto the bamboo structure and slow himself down just enough that he was left unharmed.

Mentally, Grum took a sigh of relief before carefully breaking the scaffolding. He could hear someone moving around as well as- was that a cow? It sounded like it. And there was also the sound of a sheep. Grum started sneaking, slowly moving towards the noises. While this seemed to be a main room with a nether portal at the end between the disc posters, there was also a hallway which is where the sounds were coming from.

Once Grum had gotten close enough, he peeked around the corner. There were a number of empty item frames as singular fence posts. At the far end were the cow and sheep he had heard, penned up in some other fences. Then, placing what seemed to be a bucket with a fish in it into an item frame, was the admin. 

Immediately Grum regretted breaking in. This was the admin’s base and he had broken in. He was definitely going to get in trouble for this. This guy wasn’t like [:)] and obviously it was supposed to be a secret, only available to those with a special compass. Grum thought about going back the way he came, but he was pretty sure he didn’t have enough scaffolding and the redstone elevator would be extremely loud. He could try booking it to the portal, but that risked going out in the open for the admin to see him. 

Grum shook his head. It was the only option. Building up or breaking out were unlikely options as he didn’t know how far this place really went. But in the nether, the admin wouldn’t be able to see him, and it would just be a second or two he was in view. Grum took a few steps back to give himself just a little more time to build up speed. He started running and was watching the admin who looked extremely busy. There was no way Dream would be able to even turn in time to look, even if he did hear Grum. He was perfectly-

Blacklist check. Attempting Entry: Cubfan. Assigned roles: Hermittown member, Acknowledged associate family, Convex, Operator. Banned roles: Hermittown member. Acknowledged associate family. Continue blacklist.

Blacklist check activated. Increase displacement by 1%. Displacing. Displacement complete. Displacement at 42.5% total.

Grum was face first on the floor. Had he tripped? There wasn’t anything to trip on, the floor was perfectly flat. Grum started to look around to see if there had been any tripwires, but he didn’t see anything. Instead he saw the boots of someone’s armor. Slowly, Grum looked up and was face to face with the admin.

“How’d you manage to find this place?”

Grum was taken aback by the calm tone. The admin didn’t sound angry, just curious. “I… I was looking for a place to mine. I wanted to go far enough out that I knew I would find an unused area. I found a pillager outpost that hadn’t been looted, so I was going to start digging there. Then I noticed the large mountain. It looked like a cool place to build a base, so I was checking it out and found a lodestone. I started exploring more and found the entrance to this place. It wasn’t exactly hidden the best, but not the worst. If anyone was passing by, they wouldn’t have noticed it, but the moment you look closer it’s obvious.”

Dream nodded. “Obvious, how so?”

It was still in the calm level tone, making Grum wonder if maybe they were like [:)]. “The wall you built, I assume you’re the one who built it, to hide the entrance was entirely made of stone and too flat. I’m not a terraformer like bzzt, but even I could do better than that.”

“Like who?” The admin asked, and Grum answered again. Again the man asked for clarification and Grum assumed he wanted the full name.

“Like bzztbzzt. He’s bzzt bzzt with bzzt and bzzt bzzzzt.” Grum hoped that would be enough information.

“...I see. Well, I’m hoping you won’t tell anyone about this.”

“No. This seems to be a secret place of yours. While it’s not underneath anything, this still should fall under bzzt bzzt code.”

“Right…” The masked man replied slowly. He sounded confused, but Grum assumed that was because of the lack of context.

“Since I am here anyway, may I be allowed to know what this place is?”

“Yes. This is a bit of a vault. Everyone on this server has something they care about. I’m trying to gather the most important things and put them here.”

Grum nodded and looked at the walls. Empty item frames and fence posts were labeled with what was going to go there. Axe of Peace, shulker, bedrock, Enderchest, Squeeks - Grum paused at the iron bars labeled Skeppy, but seeing as how it was in the section of fence posts, that was likely for a creature that couldn’t be leaded.

“Maybe also a museum as well as a vault?” Grum asked. “Though I suppose if few people know about it, it would really just be a vault.”

“Correct. I don’t quite have one for everyone on the server yet, but it’s just a matter of time.”

Grum looked around. That was right. He and his brother were still rather new, so there was nothing labeled for them yet. Dream seemed to tell what he was thinking and spoke up. “You know, I’m sure you know yourself and your brother best. You probably know what should be put here, in case it ever needs protecting.”

Protecting. Of course. He was making a place no one would know about so that way if someone was worried about leaving something so special, they could take it to the admin who would hide it. It was a little strange since there was always the option of the enderchest, but then again, that likely wouldn’t apply for living creatures.

Grum watched as the admin shifted things around, making space right for either an item frame, or a post. He handed Grum some items, and then the bot felt like he was moving almost on autopilot. He wasn’t sure which to choose for his brother, so Grum placed two item frames right next to each other. Under one, he placed a sign with the label ‘Electric Razor’ and under the other was ‘Diamond Plush 1’. Then, Grum took a few steps to the side. He placed another item frame and sign combo and carefully wrote on the sigh before stepping back.

‘ᒲ⚍ᒲʖ𝙹 ⎓𝙹∷ ᒲᔑ||𝙹∷ ᓭ⍑╎∷ℸ ̣’ Wait. What? No, Grum knew he had written it down correctly. He broke the sign and tried again, but it was just the same. Was something broken? He broke one of the signs for Jrum’s items and tried there. No, it came out just fine. So Grum tried again. ‘ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷᓭᒷ ᔑ∷ᒷリ'ℸ ̣  ᓭᔑ⎓ᒷ. ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ||'∷ᒷ ᓭℸ ̣ 𝙹ꖎᒷリ.’ And again. ‘↸𝙹リℸ ̣ ' ꖎᒷℸ ̣  ⍑╎ᒲ ꖌリ𝙹∴.’ And again! ‘ℸ ̣ ⚍∷リ ||𝙹⚍∷ᓭᒷꖎ⎓ 𝙹⎓⎓.’

Finally, Grum backed away to see something legible on the sign. ‘M4M shirt’. He wasn’t sure why it had been so hard to write just a few short words, but at least it finally worked.

“What’s M four M?” Dream asked, and Grum winced at realizing the admin had seen all that.

“Oh, it’s bzzt bzzt bzzt. It’s what I bzzt bzzzzt. Since my bzzt was bzzzt bzzzzzzt.”

“I see. I’m guessing that’s back at your base.”

Grum had no reason to lie. It was currently still with him. He hadn’t built an ender chest for it yet and was worried that it could get damaged if it were just left in a random chest. But for whatever reason, he didn’t say that. “Yeah, I put it in one of the chests. Hopefully Jrum won’t mess with it.”

The admin nodded. “Good to know. We could go pick it up to bring it here. We wouldn’t want it to get damaged or anything, now would we?”

Grum nodded and then followed the admin into the nether portal. They started walking in the direction of spawn, not really saying much, just making sure neither of them got killed by skeletons, ghasts or piglins. They were doing rather well, though the admin was managing to take care of most of the monsters himself. They finally got to a bit of a safe clearing to pause and rest for a bit, Grum mining up some nearby quartz for a snack, when Dream seemed ready to strike up a conversation.

“Oh, hey Grumbot?”

“I’d prefer just Grum, but yes?”

“How many minutes do you think it’s been since we entered the nether?”

Grum paused, calculating their speed and their starting and current coordinated. He adjusted for the fact that there was no way to just go straight in the nether, and then he had his answer. “At this point it’s been around seven or eight minutes. Why do you ask?”

“Iskall.”

And Grum passed out.

When he next came to, the bot was back at home in bed and charging. He racked his brain to remember what happened and remembered meeting with Dream. They had just started into the nether when it all went dark. Based on his current situation, Dream must have-

Blacklist check. Attempting Entry: GoodtimeswithScar. Assigned roles: Hermittown member, Acknowledged associate family, Convex. Banned roles: Hermittown member. Acknowledged associate family. Continue blacklist.

Blacklist check activated. Increase displacement by .5%. Displacing. Displacement complete. Displacement at 43% total.

-taken Grum back home after he powered off. Grum hadn’t been paying attention to his power level, but he must have gotten distracted by the odd place. He had probably used a lot of his charge getting out that far, and it wasn’t like he had filled his battery recently with Jrum having been using it. And now he was very much completely charged based on his full battery level and the fact he half felt like he was vibrating. Well, at the very least, now seemed like a good time to finish up the starter base. Grum put away his tools and pulled out his blocks, climbing into the roof and working on building it. Night wasn’t the best time to be working, but it wasn’t like Grum could really sleep through it, so he made sure to bow down any mobs giving him trouble.

Grum was glad when it was finally finished, and he was surprisingly down to 67% already. He supposed he lost track of time, but the moon in the sky told him otherwise. Grum climbed down from the roof and went inside to put his things away before sitting on his bed and opening his task manager. System of course was open. If it weren’t he would be off. Status was also on, allowing him to see his health and whatnot. Microphones speakers and cameras were also there of course, those letting him to hear and speak and look around. But then two programs he didn’t recognize caught his eye as well as one that normally was never open.

DSMP Console was a new one, obvious from its name. Grum wasn’t extremely surprised at that. It was probably just something from this world, that was all. There were however sub programs on it, which Grum looked into. Those were much more surprising. Time Displacement, Blacklist Check, Blacklist Roles, Lives Count, Player Coordinates, the list went on surprisingly long. There were so many sub programs, Grum was more surprised his battery wasn’t lower.

Grum attempted to close some of the sub programs, but they immediately turned themselves back on. He almost attempted to close the main program, but for a moment, he was scared. What if something on that huge list was extremely essential, and if he closed it, it would break or kill him. So reluctantly, Grum decided against it.

Grum stopped looking at the list of sub programs for the first main program to instead look at the third. That was the QHHBP combat program. That didn’t really make sense to have open at this time, but possibly it was from all the mobs outside, so he forced it closed, immediately finding himself relaxing a bit, not realizing how tense he had been moments ago.

Then, the last of the three files. The second one he hadn’t seen before. The third program vaguely made sense. The first was new, but again, the name made sense other than the sub programs, but this was almost entirely new. KGADOOHM. That was it. That was the name. KGADOOHM. He knew his [:)] had made the K[:)]OO[:)]R, but what was this supposed to stand for? Keep [:)] and… something… out of… something my? But that didn’t make any sense. The M would likely be something else, but there were so many other options for the letter M. Plus what was the letter D for? The A could even stand for something other than ‘and’ in the long run. 

Grum started to think of ideas, but then realized there were also sub programs for that. Password Check, HM Folder, and HJTHJ. Great, another jumble of letters he didn’t know the meaning to. Grum flopped onto his back, closing the task manager. What was all this? The DSMP program he could see showing up when they arrived, but how long had that other program been there. And what did it mean? 

Blacklist check. Attempting Entry: CatType:9,Invulnerable:1,CustomName:"\"Jellie\"". Assigned roles: Hermittown member, Acknowledged associate family, Convex, Higher Being of Unknown Origin. Banned roles: Hermittown member. Acknowledged associate family. Continue blacklist.

Blacklist check activated. Increase displacement by 2%. Displacing. Displacement complete. Displacement at 45% total.

Grum paused. He had just zoned out, didn’t he? He quickly opened task manager back up, just in time to see the power and memory usage dropping for the DSMP Console program. He wasn’t quick enough to look into the sub programs and see what had been used, but it was still new information.

The bot quickly got back up from his bed and started looking around. It took a bit, but he was able to find some sugarcane and a piece of leather for a book. A feather was also easy to find, but Grum had to go out and find a squid for an ink sac. As soon as it was all put together, Grum started writing in the book. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but just to be safe, putting things in physical form could help. Especially if he needed to quickly share with anyone.

Once everything was written down for now, Grum fanned the ink with his hand to quickly dry it, then closed it up and put it in the special part of his inventory. There were five slots there for his [:)] program, though one needed to be kept open for a diamond. Currently though, there was only one other thing there. His [:)] shirt. 

For a moment, Grum’s mind was back in the vault, putting those signs up. Sure, the items could be there, but now he and Jrum knew that it was the safest place of all. It wasn’t an ender chest, which you couldn’t always access, and it wasn’t a regular inventory, so the items wouldn’t drop upon death. Grum was going to figure out what was going on. No matter how long it took.

[nxrdist]

Note:Sorry this took me an age to fill especially considering it’s not terribly long >.< None the less I hope you enjoy it! As ever, my written Irish accent is likely horrible, but I hope you get the gist. Finan’s gift [xx]

A Humble Gift

Fandom: The Last Kingdom/The Saxon Stories

Pairing: Finan/Reader

Words: 1755

-----

Despite the cool chill in the air the sun beat down on Finan as he made his way through the streets of Lunden. He needed to reach the stables with haste. If he didn’t make it in time his party would grow irritated by his tardiness. The Lord Uhtred would not be bothered, but the few priests who rode with them to Gloucester might cause a stink over a delay. So, he quickened his step and made decent time arriving just as the stable hands finished their task of readying the horses. Uhtred lifted a questioning brow but made no comment on his moderately disordered appearance at having rushed. Shortly there after they all mounted up and made for the city gates. The journey to Gloucester wasn’t long and they would arrive in a few days just in time for the Lady Hollis’s birthday celebration.

Lady Hollis was Æthelred’s first cousin by marriage and the two had grown up together. So, the Lord of Mercia was throwing her a feast which Lord Uhtred had been invited to. Of course, the invitation had been sent out grudgingly on Æthelred’s part though that was of no consequence to Uhtred -their dislike was mutual. No doubt he would greet his cousin and proceed to ignore him for the rest of their visit.

It had puzzled Finan somewhat at first when Uhtred had announced their imminent departure but for the look his Lord gave him when making said announcement. Uhtred had noticed the letters Finan had been receiving in secret and guessed at their origin. Naturally knowing his Irishman as well as he did the Lord had guessed correctly. At their last visit to Gloucester the Lady Hollis had been there -not long after their return the letters had begun. Finan supposed it was not so difficult to put the two together. The kindness Uhtred was doing him was not lost on Finan.

Their journey was expedient and trouble-free. They arrived on time, the day before the feast, and were received by Æthelred before being dismissed to find their lodgings. Had they been in Winchester Uhtred might have complained at not being housed at the palace, but he made no comment on it as they settled in at the inn. Finan assumed it was all the better to him for not being obligated to spend extra time in Æthelred’s presence.

He slept little that night. Tossing and turning frequently in his sleep, Finan eyed the pouch he’d laid on the chair with his other belongings even in the dark. A feeling of apprehension came over him whenever he looked at it for its contents made him nervous for the next day to come. When he had purchased the token, he had been feeling much more confident. Now he worried over whether he ought to have gotten it at all. Lady Hollis was likely to receive many and much more impressive gifts on the morrow which would make his feeble attempt seem so little a thing. Once he would have been able to bestow such gifts upon her, but not since having been cast out of his own land. How much easier it would be to be with her if he were still a prince of the Uí Néill.

-----

Her eighteenth year and she was still not married. It was an uncommon thing, but for the love her father bore her. Having lost his wife many years past he had clung tight to his daughter being quite loathe to let her go. In her youth it had not bothered her quite so much as she escaped several displeasing proposals in those years. All of which had been blessedly turned away by her father.

However, things were different now. Æthelred had begun the previous year to put pressure upon her father, Lord Ælfstan, to see her wed lest she become a spinster. Of course, he was right. As such at the feast Hollis was showered with the attention of many Lords looking to win her favor. She was not averse to attention in fact at times she quite enjoyed it, though the one who’s attention she sought was no Lord.

Earlier in the evening she had seen him enter with Lord Uhtred’s party from Lunden and had been hard pressed to hide the smile which spread across her face. Her cousin had grumbled the previous evening at dinner over the arrival of Lord Uhtred, who he had clearly hoped would not accept the invitation, but she had not been there at their arrival. So, to finally see the face she searched for among the crowed, Hollis had been quite elated.

-----

When the feast finally ended the guests filtered into the next room where much drinking and dancing would take place. Finan’s hand fell to the pouch tied at his belt where he fiddled absently with the strings as he had numerous times throughout that day. He had hoped to catch her in the halls before the meal but had had no such luck. And so, he sat through the feast with the weight at his belt growing by the moment. A more pessimistic part of his subconscious thought he might never get a moment alone with her after all and thus all his worry would have been for nothing.

The dancing began and Finan stayed near the wall for a time drinking from his mug of ale chatting with Sihtric and Uhtred. Eventually Uhtred left them and he watched Hollis be twirled about the hall by this Lord and that. His mood grew more sour with each new partner until it was Lord Uhtred she was dancing with. Last Finan had seen Lord Uhtred had been speaking with the Lady Æthelfled. Sighing, Finan turned away to focus on what Sihtric was saying.

“I can never get used to these sorts of celebrations,” Sihtric commented.

“Different than chuggin’ ale and wrestlin’ in the dirt eh?” Finan retorted with as much humor as he could muster.

“At least it isn’t so uptight,” shot back the half-dane.

“And more fun too,” he agreed.

“Do you know why Uhtred even agreed to come at all?” Sihtric asked.

Of course, he knew. “To see the Lady Æthelfled I expect,” Finan lied.

Sihtric’s brow rose in question.

Finan shot him a condescending look.

“Truly?” Sihtric responded dubiously.

He would have replied except for the little cough that drew his attention away from his friend. There stood Hollis with a polite smile on her lovely face. When he said nothing, she tilted her head as if in question.

“My Lady,” Sihtric said with a slight bow of his head.

The half-Dane’s words jolted him from his shock and Finan murmured the same greeting.

“If you would excuse me? I’m quite parched. I was only trying to reach the ale,” she said.

“My apologies Lady,” Sihtric said.

Swiftly he moved to make room for her to pass; though, he did note to himself that she could have easily gone around them to reach the ale. When he went to exchange glances with Finan he noticed the Irishman looking the Lady with an intent gaze. Sihtric furrowed his brow.

“It is rather warm,” Finan commented.

“Yes, it is,” Hollis said, then hesitated. “I imagine a nice breeze would be quite pleasant.”

“I believe you might be right. Enjoy the celebrations Lady,” Finan said before also moving to let her pass.

Finally, Finan met Sihtric’s confused gaze with a shrug and a little smirk. Sihtric turned slightly to watch the Lady make her way to the ale and fill her cup. When he turned back to Finan the Irishman was gone.

-----

Out in the courtyard it was much less noisy than it had been indoors, and a subtle breeze blew through the enclosed area. He waited under the shadow one of the aspen trees which lined the two ends of the plaza. Thankfully, he did not have to be patient long for her to appear. A muffled sound of laughter followed by light steps alerted him to her approach across the yard, but only when he saw her bathed in moonlight did, he step out from under the branches. Hollis looked about for a moment before calling to him.

“Finan?” she whispered.

Clearly, she had not seen him nevertheless the moment his name passed her lips she spied him and hurried to close the distance. For his part Finan went to meet her, but by then she was only a hand full of steps away and to his surprise she stepped in swiftly and wrapped her arms around him. The embrace was brief but even so it calmed the nervous racing of his heart.

“Have you missed me?” she asked softly as she withdrew.

“Have ye’ not been readin’ my letters?” he quipped with a sly grin.

“I have,” Hollis replied with a shy smile. “Though, I would hear you say it.”

“I ‘ave missed ye’ as much as a man misses ‘is bed on a long journey,” he whispered, reaching out to take her hand. “If na’ more so.”

Her smile brightened with joy at hearing his words.

“And I you.”

With his free hand, Finan fumbled for the pouch at his belt. Hollis’s eyes went to the pouch before returning to his face with a questioning look. A ghost of his former apprehension passed through him as he removed it.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“I saw it…in Lunden. I thought o’ ye.”

His expression turned a shade abashed as he released her hand to draw open the pouch. From within he drew out a brooch made from silver in a delicately crafted design. Steeling himself, Finan held it out for her to take. A hand flew to her mouth in surprise and she hesitated.

“You need not have troubled yourself,” she whispered.

“I wanted t’. Ye mentioned ye ‘ad lost yer favorite cloak pin…”

Her eyes watered slightly as she looked up at him.

“I had completely forgotten telling you. Finan-“Hollis cut herself off by embracing him tightly once more, though this time she didn’t draw away fully. “You are so thoughtful.”

He couldn’t help the pride that rose in his chest at her praise. Unthinkingly, Finan raised his hand to Hollis’s cheek brushing his thumb delicately over her cheek to wipe away the single tear that had fallen. An impish grin was spreading on his lips.

“Now, Lady there’s no need t’ be cryin’ over a trifle.”

“Tis’ not a trifle since it came from you,” Hollis said.

[silverhyenaart]

When You’re Evil

So this is something I wrote this morning for chapter 6 of Sometimes All You Need is a Friend. My first time doing a bit of a “song-fic” I do believe it’s called. I’ve got up to chapter 4 posted, if you’re curious.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26085514/chapters/63447325

Anyways, I hope you’ll get a kick out of this. I have so much fun writing Robotnik.

***

Needless to say, after months of living off the land with nothing more than the scraps he could carry and the clothes on his back, Robotnik found himself greatly enjoying the half-demon's generosity. Room service, an actual bed, and air conditioning! Sweet, merciful air conditioning. Now, perhaps he'd over indulged on his use of the shower and private in-suite hot tub, (not to mention sleeping in well past noon,) but after being marooned for nearly a year on that fungus-riddled hellhole, the doctor let his inhibitions slip a little. After all, he was still only a human. A flawed, organic human.

“Ahhh... that almost felt as good as revenge. Almost.”

The scientist's hair was still damp and messy from having run a towel through it. Refreshed from the best night's sleep he'd had in a while and a much needed shower, Robotnik returned to work. Plotting his revenge could be just as much fun as actually carrying it out. He tapped a few times on his wrist-mounted device, taking a seat at the desk where the laptop sat on the charger. It synced up with the laptop, funneling over all of the information Robotnik could dig up on the town of Green Hills and their beloved Sheriff Wachowski. Somehow, the mad doc knew that man would have to play a part in whatever scheme he cooked up. Thomas Wachowski was willing to put his life on the line for that silly little alien. And Sonic in turn trusted that man with his. Love and trust. How human. How flawed!

“How easy to exploit!” sneered the scientist as he smirked, chuckling with glee.

Normally this was where Robotnik would spin his chair around with his arms outstretched and head tilted back while laughing, but it wasn't the kind of chair that did that. Sighing, he stood up, swiping the TV remote off the stand. He really missed his gloves; literally having the universe at his fingertips. With any luck, they'd still be inside his mobile lab with the rest of his gear and machine army.

“Until then, I guess I have to settle for using this, like a caveman.”

Robotnik snorted again; already he was adapting back into his old way of life pretty fast. Only the finer things would do to please him. (And he was a difficult man to please.) However, while scrolling through some music options of the TV to break the silence, the scientist thought long and hard about the first procedure he'd conduct on that speedy blue rat. Complete dissection was a thought, but that would also mean it would all be over too quickly. No, no, that alien was an intelligent being (not as much as he, of course,) but intelligence meant there was capacity for learning. It was still an animal. Animals could be trained. With the right leverage, Robotnik knew he could have that creature eating out of his hand if he so commanded it!

-When the Devil is too busy and death is a bit too much,- began playing on the television, causing the most evil smile to spread across his face.

Of course! While chasing that silly little creature and his cop babysitter across multiple states, the scientist had crafted various restraints and containment units for the event of a live capture. Provided none of the government gremlins had tampered with his rolling laboratory, all of the equipment should still be on board.

-To the gentlemen I'm Miss Fortune. To the ladies I'm Sir Prize,-

After checking the status of his research downloads, he couldn't help but move to the dark, brooding music that slowly became more frantic that filled the room. It just felt so... perfect. So “him”. Every step had that overcoat of his flowing behind him like a shadowy cloak.

“And it's so easy when you're evil! This is the life, you see. The Devil tips his hat to me!”

Robotnik mouthed along to the song, a finalized version of his plan already solidifying in his genius mind. Yes, all he needed was the right motivation for the creature. After all, he already knew it would do anything to prevent it's favorite human from being harmed. Then, with that blue alien's vast power properly harnessed and under his control, the mad doctor knew that he'd be unstoppable!

'Oh Tom who's dentist calls him Tim, one way or another, you're going to help me!' he found himself thinking, all the while his slick dance moves picked up in intensity.

Honestly, he hadn't been able to dance like this in a while. (Mushrooms were more judgmental then one might think.) Engrossed in his own evil plots and lavishing in Voltaire's lyrics, Robotnik didn't see the portal opening up behind him, nor the red-clad demoness stepping through with a smirk on her face.

-I'll be there, I'll be waiting 'round the corner,-

“It's a game. I'm glad I'm in it. 'Cause there's one born every minute!” came Riley's voice.

Upon realizing that he was suddenly in a duet, Robotnik turned around and let out a surprised and embarrassingly girly scream. Fumbling with the remote still in his hand, he quickly turned off the TV, stopping the music all while trying to save face.

“I'm not interrupting anything, am I?” questioned the half-demon.

“Nothing, Miss Prescott,” Robotnik sputtered, as he recomposed himself, “Let's make it an order for you NOT to sneak up on me like that! I was immersed in my research!”

At that exact moment, both the laptop and his wrist-mounted device made a little noise, indicating that the file transfer was complete. Robotnik's eyes shifted to the computer, then back to Riley.

“Oh yes, of course. So tell me, Herr Doktor, is one of your five PHDs in,” Riley began, before gracefully spinning around, letting her red silk gown flow while twirling her spear, “dance?”

Robotnik just frowned when the elegantly dressed fiend stopped in front of him, “I refuse to dignify that with an answer.”

Sighing and rolling her eyes, Riley straightened up, then gestured to the still open portal with the tip of her spear, “Well, I hope that you haven't gotten too comfortable here, Herr Doktor. Your grand chariot awaits.”

Looking through the dimensional rift, Robotnik felt his eyes grow wide. In all honesty, he had a difficult time calculating the odds of the half-demoness' success. But parked out in the desert, far away from prying eyes, was the massive black custom built semi and trailer.

Grabbing his half finished and by now lukewarm latte, the scientist stepped through the portal. Riley waved her hand once, causing the laptop to dissipate in a cloud of black mist before following after her employer. Now, the mid-afternoon Nevada sun wasn't exactly the most forgiving. However, it no longer bothered Robotnik as much as it might have in the past.

***

I know there are mixed feelings on the “Robotnik dance scene”. Personally, it was Jim Carrey being an amazing ham and I loved it. So, I thought of this. I absolutely LOVE “When You’re Evil” by Voltaire and could totally see Robotnik rocking out to that song. Here’s a link to it on YouTube, it’s amazing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tWYCS6k1IOA&list=WL&index=42&t=0s

Of course, I claim no ownership. This is strictly fan-writing/for fun.

(It could have been worse, it could have been the “Mustache Song” from A Million Ways to Die in the West.)

[antivantulip]

ME:A Countdown Ryder Meme

Days 30-18

ORIGINAL POST

So I'm late to this meme but I really wanted to do it to help me flesh out my Ryder!! :3c Under the cut because I'm behind a few days oops~

30 Days: Will you play SisRyder or BroRyder first? Why? How does your Ryder define their gender?

SisRyder! Just because I have more ideas for her background & personality. Also I'm just coming out of playing the Witcher 3 and to be honest, I'm quite tired of playing a guy for over 150 hours so there's that. However I'll most likely end up doing a Bro!Ryder playthrough as well after. I usually start out with a female OC because they’re easier for me to identify with and roleplay as. For those reasons her pronouns will be she/her (unless I change my mind later haha).

29 Days: What is your Ryder’s name? Why did you pick this name - is there a meaning or origin story behind it? Do they go by any nicknames? What would you name their sibling, father and mother if you were able to choose?

My Ryder goes by her nickname 'Midnight' in-game but her real name is 'Medina'. It's a codename she received during her sniper training for the Pathfinder program. Her combat style very much incorporates stealth tactics and her teammates claimed that she 'could perfectly hit a target in pitch darkness from miles away'. One day her brother started calling her that too, and it just sort of stuck. Their father is the only one who calls her by her real name. If I could name her bro, I'd probably go with Kalem. I'm fine with their dad's name.

28 Days: Are you going to use the default appearance or create a custom Ryder? If custom, describe your Ryder’s physical appearance (hair color, eye color, skin color, height, weight, facial features, any scars or tattoos, racial origin, etc). If you have art and/or a face-claim, feel free to add them here

A custom Ryder for sure!!! Midnight naturally has shoulder- length black hair that she dyes dark blue (haven't decided if she dyes all of it or just the tips yet BUT YKNOW). She only originally did it because her bro always teased her that she never did anything fun/unique with her appearance (she doesn't have tattoos, piercings, wears little make-up, no jewelry) but ended up liking it in the end and decided to keep that look. Since I love projecting onto my OCs, she and her brother will be mixed - half white, half central-asian. Don't have a face/body claim yet but she's quite short (5'3) and not overly muscular (seeing as she was mostly preparing to be a scientist, not a marine). Her brother is the one who has a lot of tattoos, an ear piercing, and is quite stocky since he did a lot of physical training to be a soldier.

27 Days: Are you going to use the default appearance for Ryder’s sibling or customize them? Describe your ideas for their sibling’s and father’s physical appearance. 

Already answered that in the previous question oops. I'd like to customize Bro!Ryder to look as much as his sis, if that option is available. I actually don't mind default Dad's appearance tbh? The only thing is, I figure he'd have a lot more scars thanks to his long and colourful military career. I figure Kalem would try to match him in that too.

26 Days: Do you have a specific class profile or mix of class profiles in mind for Ryder?

Stealth, long-range, and tech skills are the way to go for Midnight. I don't know if the classes will be the same in Andromeda or not but based on the previous three games, she'd either be Adept or Engineer. She will definitely have that Tactical Cloak, Overload, and Hacking abilities ready. Kalem, on the other hand would definitely be a Soldier or Vanguard class.

25 Days: Describe Ryder’s favorite combat style. Bioware call Peebee a “gunslinger” and describe Liam as a “close-range fighter” - how would you describe Ryder’s combat role/strengths? What are some of their favorite biotic/tech/other abilities?

Midnight is stealth and tech expert. She doesn't act rashly but considers carefully her every move. She's also resourceful and will use her environment to her advantage if she can. Since she isn't super strong she will probably have to rely a lot on her learned knowledge of her enemies' weaknesses. She prefers long-range guns and only resorting to close-quarter combat if she knows she can use her Tactical cloak and one-shot the enemy. She doesn't take unnecessary risks and she isn't reckless like her brother (or at least at the start of the game, we'll see how/if that will change as she grows into her role as the leader). She won her local science fair by building a robot when she was little and her love of robotics persists to this day. You will usually see her hack other machines or set up a turret to help her out.

24 Days: Which squadmates do you think will best compliment Ryder’s combat style? Alternatively, who do you plan to take out most in the field?

Hmm, since we haven't had a chance to get to know the companions yet, I really can't say for sure! I do kinda feel that she and Vetra would get along really well on the battlefield. Cora too probably? But I'll most likely rotate who she takes with her on missions so I can get to know them all better.

23 Days: Which weapons or category of weapons will Ryder prefer? Describe their favorite loadout.

Midnight's first love is a sniper rifle but she will most likely try to switch to another weapon so she can be on the front lines with her squad. She hates the idea of just sitting back in relative safety while her teammates put themselves in danger (it's a matter of honour, I guess) so she will train real hard to get good with other weapons (plus a sniper rifle is heavy af). I can see her choosing light pistols, also energy weapons (I think they showed in the trailer? cant remember their name) and maybe assault rifles. No for shotguns tho.

22 Days: Will Ryder craft? What are you most excited about crafting? Do you have any names in mind already for weapons?

I'm not too excited about crafting but my Ryder would definitely be :'D I can honestly see her crafting weapons and developing armour plans in her spare time, or when she has a lot on her mind. She likes to keep her hands busy. She'd be the kind who evaluates her team's combat skills and would develop weapons for them to boost their efficiency or accuracy. Also, she...often has insomnia and can't sleep so I can see her staying up all night and getting carried away crafting stuff for her team or herself. She'd need help naming her weapons tho - she gives them standard, boring names like 2K-501 but her bro would be the one to name them something ridiculous like 'Demolisher'.

21 Days: What are Ryder’s personality traits? Describe 5 strengths and 5 flaws.

Midnight is very hard-working and once she sets her mind on something, she gets it done. It can be a bad thing, however, since she tends to overwork herself a lot. She's a great planner and prefers to use her mind and diplomacy to solve problems and only resorts to violence if there's no other way. Because of this, however, she's a very inexperienced soldier who's not used to being a leader. She joined the Andromeda Initiative mainly to keep an eye on her brother, to keep him safe. Kalem's really the one who wanted to be the hero and lead the team but instead his sister was chosen, and as much as he loves his sister it was a bit of a blow to his ego. Whereas her brother is a rule-breaker, Midnight likes sticking to a routine or a strict set of rules. She isn't above questioning orders from her superiors, however. It's kind of her nature to question everything...she's very inquisitive and curious about everything. She was studying to be a scientist so learning about history or other species is absolutely fascinating to her. But because she is an inexperienced leader & soldier, she can get emotional during battle and do stupid, reckless things. Her brother teases her that he's rubbing off of her.

20 Days: What first impressions does Ryder tend to give people? Do they have any ‘odd’ or specific mannerisms, habits or other quirks? How do they present and carry themselves?

Midnight can seem serious and strict at first. Once she's given a mission, she becomes very focused, almost fixated on it. To really get to know her, you need to catch her off-guard, probably off the battlefield when her tactical mind isn't whirring and trying to plan 3 steps ahead. She handles diplomatic/political issues with ease but can be really awkward in personal social situations and is still struggling to be the charismatic leader she is expected to be. Despite all her knowledge and training she can be really naïve and as a result, ends up being a very easy victim to teasing (which her brother does all the time). Despite everything, she cares deeply for her teammates and her family and would go to any lengths to protect them. She's very good at controlling her emotions and can stay calm under pressure but gets completely overwhelmed when matters of the heart come into play :')

19 Days: Where would Ryder fall in the classic Paragon/Renegade morality system? What would their D&D alignment be? If you know their personality type in any personality typing systems (such as MBTI and Enneagram - you can find various type descriptions and tests using Google), feel free to add and discuss them here.

HOO BOY Midnight is definitely Paragon. At the beginning of the game, she starts out as a Lawful good which changes as the game progresses. I'd say her true self is somewhere on the neutral spectrum. Again, she starts out as INTJ (The Architect) and as she warms up to her team and grows into her role, becomes ISFJ (The Defender). Her Enneagram is Type 1: The Reformer.

18 Days: What qualities does Ryder like and dislike in other people? Are there any things they particularly appreciate or can’t stand?

Midnight hates disorder/chaos and she isn't really fond of surprises, since she likes to plan and be prepared for anything. Reckless, headstrong, aggressive or overly close-minded people who refuse to listen she'd have a hard time dealing with as well. She doesn't like insubordination either as it makes her feel incompetent as a leader. She admires idealistic, just people, those who are willing to do anything - even sacrifice themselves - to save others or do the right thing. She also admires humour and charisma, since she kinda sees herself as lacking those at the moment. Loyalty means everything to her, as well.