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ramzawrites · 3 years

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OMG might I say I have cried many tears already.

Also can I request a part 2 to your hybrid iron golem story? Maybe one where he has to deal with torture from the butcher gang, and even has to help exile techno. But eventually he ends up teaming with techno blade and dream after they save him. And he starts training with them and gets better at pvp and eventually kills/greatly injures one of the butcher gang as revenge, before returning to his village? LOVE YOU AND YOUR FICS❤️ your also like the only writer I know who writes he/him or gn fics so thank you❤️

IronGolem!Hybrid!Reader - Protector - Part 2

Part 1

Male

Pairings: none

Characters included: Quackity, Tubbo, Fundy, Ranboo, Technoblade, Ghostbur, (mentioned) Philza

Warnings: mention of burn wounds,captivity,fighting

Series: a part 2 of my previous fic per request <3

Summary: After weeks of working Y/N to the bones the Butcher Army has a different need of him. After managing to get the best gear possible from Y/N and having trained enough, it was finally time to get revenge! It was time to “peacefully” get Technoblade so he can stand trial, of course taking Y/N with them, after all he worked so hard on their gear and was now a part of their little army.

Words count: 3893

Authors Note: Thank you for the nice words! 💙 :D I’m sorry I broke this request up in two parts! I will concentrate on finishing up another or two requests and while I do that, I will also try finishing up part 3 since I am already in the middle of writing it! So don’t worry it is coming!

Y/N pressed his back against the cold stone wall. Enjoying the coolness on his body. Pressing his burned palms against the cold floor beneath him. The coldness was like a soothing balm that engulfed him after working for hours at the forge.

It was probably a bad idea pushing the wounds down onto the dirty floor, but he didn’t care. The temporary relief of pain just felt too good that he couldn’t stop himself.

A small break from the constant stress on his body.

Basking in the break from the constant supervision of the Butcher Army, even if that break came at the cost of him being locked inside a cell.

He had no idea how long he has been here in L’Manberg. An interesting city built inside a crater. They led him to this place, riding on their horses while pulling him along with a rope. It was a grueling two-day trip and as soon as the group arrived, they almost immediately put him to work.

First it just started out with him looking over their current armor and repairing what he could, then they began forcing him to create multiple sets of iron armor, claiming they would give him the resources and he should just work.

So, he did. He created armor sets, weapons and tools. Making new ones when they lost the gear, or it got destroyed. They put his work to the test. Fighting against each other to train. Using it against a horde of mobs, so there was never really a shortage of work.

The real trouble came when they suddenly presented him with diamonds. Ordering him to make them diamond armor but he didn’t know how. His expertise laid with iron work nothing else, but the group wouldn’t hear a no from him. Forcing him to figure out how to best create this diamond armor by showing him their old ones.

Luckily his knowledge seemed to somewhat extend to the new material as well. It took a while, but he soon found out different ways to create a similar product to that of his iron gear.

Diamond armor light but strong, the tools incredibly sturdy and in some cases sharp.

This seemed to be what the group was looking for. Yelling things like “This could rival netherite!” as they tried it out for the first time.

One day they brought him a new material. It was netherite. It was good thing that netherite behaved more like iron and was used as a coating for diamond gear, so Y/N could make this upgraded gear for them fast and easily.

The netherite complimented his work quite well. It received greater durability but also made it possible to sharpen the weapons even more so. Something about this material seemed to behave otherworldly to him which got confirmed to him once he found out that it came from the nether.

Naively Y/N had hoped that this was enough and that they would finally let him go and return to his village. His one true home. Though of course they didn’t let him go, saying that they still haven’t reached their goal and needed his help.

Still working him to the bone. His hands getting more and more hurt over time as he worked with the materials. The metal that coated them cracking more and more.

The villagers back home were left with the only few defenses he put up, which should be fine but also, he wanted to be there and make sure they were alright.

As he sat alone in the dark room, he let himself silently cry. He missed them so much. They would make sure he was alright, giving him an abundance of food and materials and whenever he refused to take more, they would look so insulted. If anything, the villagers were good-natured beings that believed in true reciprocity.

This seemed to be a foreign concept for the L’Manberg people or at least the Butcher Army. Increasing his fear and wariness for other humans even more. He never actually had any contact with other people outside of them, but he did learn a few things about the little group and what their opinion was of others.

For starters there were two people they saw as their ultimate enemies.

One called Dream and another called Technoblade.

From the things he heard and even the few question he managed to ask despite of his fear and anxiety, he gained the idea that these two must have been horrible tyrants. He almost got the idea that they were just beasts out here hunting their prey and trying to subject the other people under their own rule or ideologies.

And Y/N was scared of them. He didn’t want to meet them and make sure to stay far away but this was also how he felt towards the Butcher Army, conflicting thoughts and emotions brewing inside of him. The Butcher Army acted like they were the good guys, doing bad things for a good goal and Y/N wanted to believe in that. Wanted to believe that him suffering will bring something good as well but there were doubts.

Y/N laid his hurting hands on his biceps, squeezing them in pain as he tried to stifle his sobs. No matter what, he will make sure to not cry in front of them. It was stupid and unnecessary, but he didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. Though then again, the only person who seemed to enjoy the feeling of power was Quackity. Fundy was a close second, but he looked mostly just forward to the new goods and the power he seemed to gain through them.

Tubbo and Ranboo were more passive. Especially Ranboo.

Quackity seemed to string Tubbo along most of the time, speaking to his pride as president of the nation and basically just whispering him what he should do, and the young president listened.

Ranboo tried to sometimes help Y/N. Giving him things like bandages for his wounds or giving him extra food and water, even trying to do small talk with him to lighten the mood. If the situation were different Y/N would have laughed at his awkward attempts for conversation.

While he appreciated it, it just hammered back in the feeling of homesickness.

He bit his lower lip as his thoughts began running a mile an hour again. Ranging from despair to him cursing out his captors. He was too kind to actually think things like “I hate them. I hate them so much.” Trying to believe there was a good reason for this, but he was getting tired. His work is getting more and more sloppy, and it was only a matter of time until Quackity and the others noticed.

There was no telling with how long he could take this anymore.

Y/N got back up only to fall into bed. There was nothing better to do here than sleep through the days and wait for the others to get him out.

As it turned out the others needed him early in the morning but this time it was different.

Quackity opened up the iron door to his cell with a sterner expression than usual. It surprised Y/N when he saw that Quackity had put the white apron on top of his new netherite armor. This was not a good sign. The last time he saw that armor on him was when Quackity escorted him to L’Manberg.

“Get up. We have something to do.” His voice was cold and strained. A hint of anxiety mixed in, or maybe it was anticipation after all.

Not even daring to hesitate, Y/N jumped off his bed. Wordlessly following his captor, soon noticing that this would not be a usual day for him.

Instead of turning to the smithy they set up for him, Quackity led him to the town middle where he saw the rest of the Butcher Army waiting. Decked out in Y/N’s best armor and horses in tow. Expressions pulled down into deep frowns.

But what confused him the most was that he counted five horses when there were only four members of the army. A bad feeling begun building up at the bottom of his stomach. Like a rock sinking down into the depths of water.

“What is going on?” Y/N managed to rasp out as the two reached the others.

Quackity collected the reigns of all the horses and pushed it into Y/N’s rough hands “It is time we finally get some retribution. We are going after Technoblade and we need your help for that. Your own armor is over there. Get ready while we have a little talk with Philza.”

He didn’t wait for an answer and instead moved towards Philza’s home, only to turn around one more time before they rung the bell in front of the house “And I swear by Ender if you run away, we will find you. We know the only probable place you would seek refuge in and even if you don’t, we will wreck that place.”

Then they sounded the bell. A familiar ringing that made Y/N’s heart ache even more.

There was no real choice, he just looked around and found his old iron armor laying on the ground. The scratches and damages from back when the Butcher Army found him still there. He never got the chance to repair it.

Y/N never really talked with Philza. He only saw him here and there. Usually whenever Philza passed him he would just stare. Just stare him down. Something going through his mind, but Y/N couldn’t possibly tell what. His expression always grim only to jump back into a relaxed smile. Y/N always thought his smile felt a bit off. Wrong even. Not the truth or hiding something.

When the door swung open again it gave away to a smug looking Quackity who happily swung around a compass by its chain around his finger. A proud looking Tubbo behind him, followed by Fundy who looked almost like he was sulking and Ranboo who had a complicated expression on his face. He didn’t feel comfortable.

“We’ve got what we need. Now, to Technoblade. Everyone on their horses! This includes you, Y/N.” Quackity exclaimed.

The bad feeling increased, creating a lump in his throat. Shakily he opened up his hand and let everyone get on their horses, leaving him with a beautiful black one.

Nervous he put his foot in the pedal of the saddle and heaved himself up on it.

He wanted to scream. Run away. What would they need him for? His armor was way inferior to that of the others, ignoring the fact that he couldn’t fight at all.

No, they didn’t need him to fight but be a shield for them. A moving shield. After all he was an Iron Golem Hybrid. Big areas of his skin covered in thin metal plates, not all connected so he could still move but it gave him more protection. That plus his height was what they counted on, wasn’t it? That he would still be imposing enough to draw attention.

This was the conclusion he came to due to Quackity. He heard him talking. All Y/N was to him was a tool, a resource to be used and the worst part was that Y/N just couldn’t defend himself against this. Too scared anything might happen to his home because Quackity was right, they knew exactly where his home was and how important this place was to him.

Y/N didn’t realize how suddenly Quackity slowed down his horse as they arrived in the snow biome only pulling him out of his anxiety filled thoughts as he began speaking to him directly.

“Here is the plan. We want to get Technoblade and-” He stopped himself as he searched for the right words “And hold him accountable. Yes, we will put him on trial. If we are lucky, he will just follow us, but we doubt it. If he refuses, he will likely fight us. We just need you to draw your attention on yourself but don’t worry, we will jump right in to take care of him.”

“I- I don’t, Quackity, I don’t- I can’t fight!” Y/N croaked out. It felt like ages since he last spoke.

But Quackity just smiled “Don’t worry.”

That was all he said before hurrying along to be back at the front of the pack. Holding the glowing compass close to himself.

Y/N knew. He knew this was the case and yet it felt like someone stuffed snow down his shirt. A cold shiver running down his spine. Panic rising even more. It was a good thing he was sitting on top of a horse, otherwise he wasn’t sure if his shaking legs could carry him for the rest of the way. Each step closer to what felt like his doom.

His doom? Would Technoblade kill him? The way the small Army described him, he wouldn’t hesitate to cut him down.

Was it bad he didn’t fear dying but just the potential pain?

Realizing where his thoughts were running off to, he shook himself. No, his home, his real home, needed him. He couldn’t die yet. He needed to find a way to survive.

Suddenly Fundy stopped his horse and moved his fist up in the air, signaling for the others to stop as well. While the others wondered why he did this, Fundy pointed ahead through the trees towards a figure? A person? Out here in the snowy tundra?

Without saying anything Quackity jumped off his horse, the others following suit and begun tying the animals to the trees. Once Y/N understood what was happening he did the same. His eyes darting back towards the figure that seemed to interact and cuddle with a blue sheep while he made sure his horse was secured to one of the trees.

“What’s Ghostbur doing here?” Ranboo whispered more to himself but Y/N caught it.

He heard of Ghostbur but actually never met him. Apparently, the ghost of the man that blew the nation up but that was really all he knew.

They approached the ghost on foot, calling out to him in the process to gain his attention. The ghost immediately waved towards them with an earnest and big smile on his face. Y/N was fretting for his life at the moment but something about Ghostbur almost calmed him down.

Maybe it was just the fact of meeting a new friendly face after being surrounded by the Butcher Army for so long.

Ghostbur approached them, the sheep following him via a leash “Hello Quackity! Hello Fundy! Hello Tubbo! Hello Ranboo! Oh! I don’t know your name! I’m sorry! Hello though! I’m Ghostbur!”

Y/N was a bit taken aback. He was so friendly.

“Y/N. My name is Y/N.” he surprised himself a little bit with how he just blurted it out.

Ghostbur cocked his head to the side as he listened “Nice to meet you Y/N! You don’t look too good! Are you doing alright? Oh no, was this rude? Do you want some blue? Maybe that will help!”

Before Y/N could even properly process what he could possibly mean with blue Quackity jumped in “Hey, Ghostbur. You know if Technoblade is close? Is he somewhere around here?”

Somehow Ghostbur managed to lighten up even more, which should be impossible but Ghostbur’s eyes widened into a fond recognition and he turned around “Yes! Yes! I got lost but I found Techno! He told me to go though! He is over there! Come with me, I’ll show you!”

The Ghost then begun floating off, leading the group between trees and soon arriving on a small hill that gave them a good view of a cottage house.

Seeing the homey build, it was difficult for Y/N to imagine that a monster lived there. If anything, it reminded him of his own home. Maybe he won’t fight? Maybe this will end peacefully? But somehow Y/N doubted it by the serious but eager expressions on half of the Butcher Army’s faces as their eyes fell on Techno’s home.

“Let’s go.” Quackity trotted down the hill “We all know what to do.”

Y/N’s heartbeat took on speed again. Everyone got their weapons out and even though Y/N was technically really strong due to his constant smithing work, the iron sword in his hand felt heavy. Like it could slip out of his hand any second.

Worried his eyes darted across the few windows of the house. Trying to get a glimpse of Technoblade but all he saw was a shadow moving away from one of the windows.

Did he see them approaching?

“Techno get out!” Quackity suddenly yelled, pulling Y/N back out of his anxiety filled thoughts once again.

It took a second but suddenly the wooden door opened up slowly and Technoblade got out. He wore netherite armor, a red gown with white fluff on his shoulders on top of the armor, a crown on top of his head, his pink hair pulled back.

With his scowling expression and stature, he looked scary.

Technoblade took a step outside on his porch, Y/N suddenly became very aware of how sharp his tusks looked.

“What do you want?”

With a deep breath Quackity took a closer step towards the Pig Hybrid “We are here to get you! We, the Butcher Army, are here to put you on trial!”

“Yes! It is time you take responsibility for the destruction of L’Manberg!” Fundy added on. Tubbo just nodded to show his support to this statement.

“And why should I follow you? I’ve retired, I don’t want to be a part of any of this anymore. I’m done.” Techno spoke.

Quackity turned around to look at Y/N for a second only to continue speaking with Techno “Well, either you follow us peacefully or we will force you. You can’t run away from what you have done! Come with us and stand trial!”

But he didn’t answer immediately, Techno moved down the porch. Almost circling the group, his eyes jumping around between them.

“Listen, guys. The voices in my head. They begged me for more blood. They demanded more but I refused. I purposefully got out here to deny them, just leave me be.”

“Techno, you spawned Withers in L’Manberg! People got hurt! They destroyed a huge part of our nation! You have to stand trial!” Tubbo readjusted his grip on his axe. He looked angry and almost bewildered.

Technoblade slowly shook his head “No, you don’t understand. I’m trying to keep away from all this for a reason! You are just pulling me back to things and-“

“No! You either come with us or we will make you! Five to one Techno, you think you can do that?” Quackity interrupted him, pointing his weapon at Techno.

Y/N was overwhelmed with the situation. The man in front of him, Technoblade, wasn’t how he imagined him. He tried to reason but the others wouldn’t want to hear it which Y/N could understand as well but this man didn’t look like the blood thirsty monster the others described him as.

The Pig Hybrid sighed, his eyes now instead of jumping around finally decided to rest on Y/N, who in return suddenly felt small under his gaze. Did Techno realize that Y/N was the attack bait? Is he falling for it? Or did he notice his trembling arms and legs. The fear and worry in his eyes. The burn wounds covering his hands and arms. The clearly damaged iron armor.

Was he seeing Y/N as prey or as the scared man that feared for his life he really was?

“What will it be, Techno?” Fundy snarled, showing of his sharp teeth.

His hands moved towards his side “If it has to be like that, then I choose blood!”

Then everything went really fast. His hands pulled out a few flask from his belt, hidden by his gown that he threw on the ground to buff himself.

The Butcher Army immediately grew panicked and barked orders, a clear and loud order from Quackity flew through the chaos and reached Y/N “Attack him, Y/N!”

And he didn’t know why but he moved in. He was scared, his heart felt close to exploding in his chest, but he was somehow more scared of Quackity and what could happen shouldn’t he listen. Scared that he would force him to work even more, refusing him sleep and food again. Not letting him treat his wounds properly that he got from the work.

So, he moved in. With shaking legs and what felt like without strength in his arms. The world turned blurry. Was he crying or just his nerves? He couldn’t tell.

All he remembered was Techno coming close to him, looking like a demon. His eyes wide and filled with what Y/N assumed to be bloodlust.

Y/N moved his arm up, just trying to hit Techno with his own sword, but Techno was faster. He slammed the blunt end of his netherite sword into Y/N’s neck. Shocked by the sudden attack, he fell to the ground. The world growing dark for a few seconds as he coughed and tried to breathe again.

As he sat in the cold snow, trying to calm down he heard the Army yelling. Metal clanging on metal.

Then it suddenly stopped.

A neighing. A horse? What?

Luckily Y/N seemed to have regained somewhat control over his own body and could assess the situation in front of him.

The Butcher Army seemed to be alright. Y/N’s armor really held through, no obvious damage on it. They were out of breath and sweating but alright.

A bit ashamed Y/N couldn’t help but be proud of his work that it withstood a buffed-up Techno with a netherite sword.

But what really caught his attention was Quackity who held the reigns of a horse with diamond armor. His axe held up close to the animal’s throat.

Technoblade moved the tip of his blade towards him “Get away from that horse, Quackity!”

“Follow us peacefully and nothing will happen to the horse, Techno. Your choice.”

There was a slight hesitation as Techno undoubtedly tried to gauge if he could somehow deal with Quackity differently but ultimately, he suddenly dropped his weapon as well his armor.

Perplexed Y/N got back up, still rubbing his neck.

Techno spared him. He obviously just tried to either knock him out or make him unable to fight, which he succeeded in. Wouldn’t it have been for Y/N’s reinforced skin due to his Iron Golem side he would have been knocked out for sure.

Fundy did not hesitate to jump in and wrap chains around Techno’s wrists “Y/N! You are the strongest one of us. You hold on to him, we will be close by to ensure he won’t run off.”

Avoiding looking at the others directly after having been taken out of the fight so easily, he made his way towards Fundy and grabbed the chains. Wrapping it a few times around his own arm as well. Feeling sick to his stomach as he realized that he was doing the same thing to Techno like back when the group escorted him out of his own village.

He couldn’t help himself but whisper towards Techno a quick “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

#mcyt x male reader #dream smp x male reader #dsmp x male reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt reader insert #mcyt x Y/N #dream smp reader insert #dream smp x reader #dream smp x Y/N #dsmp reader insert #dsmp x reader #dsmp x Y/N #ramza writes #anon request #Anonymous

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sewer-ravioli · 3 years

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A rewrite of my SCU timeline as it’s been a while and I’ve actually had some time to think along with some additions because I forgot some stuff.

(LONG POST)

First we start out with subs. A hivemind of entities that are essentially put in charge of all things getting new gods and taking out corrupted Gods. JSchlatt, a god they created a while back, has started showing signs of corruption of power. Needing to take care of it they set out and search for some mortals who are worthy of power. And they found 3 mortals. Charlie and Condi by trial (Minecraft but pay to win (or lose) and Condi’s crowd control stream) and Grizzly because they can feel a strong determination in him. They throw the three mortals into a world with the corrupted god and watch. (minecraft but every five minuets there's a natural disaster)

Schlatt, interested in these three mortals watches with curiosity before approaching and throwing an apple down. an Insta-kill Apple. Charlie grabs it and takes a bite. However the subs before he eats it turn it into an apple infused with the power of a god. Charlie definitely feels different after eating it but doesn’t think much about it. Schlatt noticed the sudden change in Charlie and connects it to the subs. Suddenly feeling resentment as he realizes why these mortals are down here he says “you fucked up” before vanishing.

Schatt then starts to mess with the mortals trying to kill them repeatedly. Charlie is coming out the most unscathed while the other two take the brunt of it. All the stuff happens. The sink holes, the fire, the poppy scene, but it all comes to a climax at the volcano. Where Schlatt and Charlie stand face to face. Charlie’s powers have developed around this time. Charlie watches as his friends have ate the apples Schlatt gave them and pushed them into the lava before Schlatt had full control of them, unaware the subs have done the same of what they did with His own apple he ate. Feeling so much hate and resentment towards the corrupted god laughing maniacally in front of him Charlie feels a power course through him. He can feel himself start to float. He can feel a green and gold energy surround him. And speaking words of which he doesn’t and does know at the same time Schlatt falls into the Lava.

Charlie rushes down to his friends confused on how he just did that while the others watch in awe and fear at the new form of their friend. Schlatt rises behind them from the Lava with a face of pure malice and goes to try and strike at Charlie. Charlie then pushes Schlatt back and in a moment of pure instinct he almost kills Schlatt. But he stops. No Charlie is better then this. He steps back. And with power he wasn’t aware he had, he steals Schlatt’s powers away.

Schatt has been neutralized. they are safe.

Schlatt honestly is glad they did that however. snapped him out of his corruption. He is also very much so aware of the dangers of a new god learning their power so he offers to teach Charlie. Charlie accepts and Schlatt tells him how to create a new world so they can rein in a not destroyed world. However Charlie fucks up doing so and accidentally creates a world where all the blocks are alive. (minecraft but the blocks try to kill you)

this doesn’t deter them however as they continue on. Schlatt also offers to train Grizzly and Condi as their own god powers develop. this doesn’t take long till they are in control of their powers and Schlatt leaves to live out the rest of his now mortal life on his own terms.

the three gods wanted to have a time of bonding. after all they are gods now and will be stuck together for an eternity. so they create a new world, not fucking it up this time and create three mortals to join them. Narwhal, Wheatie, and Ross. They are rather open about their godhood at this time with the mortals and they agree to defeat the ender dragon together. and they do. (Minecraft in VR is absolutely traumatizing...)

after the gods and the other three all move on.

after a bit of them doing god stuff they get summoned a place. Narwhal stands before them now a god as well. he ended up bringing Wheatie and an unknown mortal named bizly. Narwhal puts them through an adventure full of chaos till Charlie manages to get his hand on a d100 Narwhal dropped. which he uses to get back at the god and manages to get the other to leave. Narwhal ends up taking Wheatie with him but Bizly is left behind. (Roll.)

the three gods discuss it but decide on a fate. they can feel an energy from the die. very similar to what Charlie felt when he ate schlatt’’s apple. and Bizly fought by their side and therefor deserve a part in their group. Bizly is told to break the die and which he does and gains the powers of a god.

Grizzy after goes out and tries to get more powerful (minecraft but my stream controls the game (Grizzly’s channel)) while Charlie, Condi, and bizly end up starting to get hunted by god hunter humans. Not all of them are bad, actually there was one, thatoneperson, who was really friendly actually. But they seemed to be a worshipper of a deity known as him. But thatoneperson helps them get past the hunters and get somewhere safe. However at the cost of thatoneperson’s life. (minecraft but, 100 players are hunting me)

Grizzly shows up after that. With grizzly back they decide to create molympus. a safeplace where they can watch their worlds and not be hunted.

the gods after a bit get bored and decide they are gonna make a hard to survive world and try to beat it as mortals. they each used their own godly domains to create the world.

Charlie with crafting, smelting, enchantment, produce, and hunting

Condi with other realms (Nether and end)

Grizzly with weaponry, armor, and nature

and Bizly with mobs

And they get to work and after they all turn mortal and move down to start their adventure.

its extremely hard and frustrating and they make adjustments to stop from just dying every minute. but it gets to a climax as Grizzly ends up making the diamond pickaxe useless. Of which Charlie pissed from this ends up banishing Grizzly from molympus. they try to move on but end up finding Grizzly in the nether. they try to calm him down but Bizly ends up making all dogs die at eye contact which causes Grizzly to snap and try to kill them. They manage to relucntently subdue him. but after snapping they had no other choice other then to kill Grizzly. To make sure they don’t get another Schlatt. Grizzly gives Bizly a glock understanding what has to happen. And Bizly shoots Grizzly killing him instantly.

they bury their friend all sad from what they had to do but continue on in honor of him killing the ender dragon and completing their job. ( the HARDEST minecraft difficulty)

but at the loss of a close friend.

#vega speaks #SCU #Slimecicle #Slimecicle cinematic universe #charlie slimecicle #grizzlyplays #bizly #condifiction #jschlatt #scu timeline 2.0

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viking-raider · 4 years

Text

The Immortal Sky - Epilogue

Summary: You and Henry start a life together, after so much that’s happened.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/You

Word Count: 3,048

Rating: G - Dystopian!AU, Futuristic!AU, Language, Mild Angst, Suggestive Language, Cotton Candy Goodness, Fluff and a Super Happy Ending!

Inspiration: I’ve always wanted to write a futuristic fic!

Author’s Note: Thank you all for the support and love on this story, it was a blast to write. Thanks to the amazing @wondersofdreaming as always <3

It had been three months since the events had happened in Bristol, and both you and Henry had healed well and started building a life together as boyfriend and girlfriend.

Henry's family fully, completely and lovingly embraced you into their family, treating you as one of their very own; uncaring that you were born in the lower Sectors of London. They included you in everything from social parties and events to family gatherings. You were surprised, when you went to his family home for the first time, because unlike you and your family, Henry and his family were raise in an actual house in Sector Two's posh neighborhood, where nearly every member of the Royal and Cleric Council lived, with their families; his brothers and their families also lived in houses of their own, in the neighborhood.

The Cavill's had lived in this neighborhood for several generations, his father's side of the family had always been members of the Cleric Council and his mother's family had always been members of the Royal Council; but Henry was the first Cavill and Dalgliesh to not be either a Beta, Alpha or High Royal or Cleric, in nearly nine generations.

“Why don't you live here too, Henry?” You had asked, the first time Henry had taken you to his parent's house, for dinner, two weeks after getting out of the hospital. “Can you not, since you're a High Marshal?”

“Oh no, I can live here, if I'd like too, being the son of a Cleric and Royal.” Henry replied, as he pulled into his parents’ driveway. “But, I choose to live in the flat, in Central Sector Two. I didn't need a big house, since it was just Kal and I. Even with it being the three of us, there's still no need for one.” He explained, then got out of the car to move around and open your door.

Henry's family had even invited your parents and little brother to their family functions.

They had been slack jawed, while they sat in the back seat of Henry's car, you and Henry having gone to pick them up and take them to the Christmas party you all had been invited too. They watched as each Sector got brighter and brighter, until they finally got to see the sun, for the first time, as it started to sink below the horizon. Henry glanced at them through the rear-view mirror and smiled, remembering the same look of surprise and awe on your face as you saw the same view for the first time, over a year before. He looked at you and smiled even brighter as you looked at him, having looked back at them and saw their reactions to it as well.

Their awestruck continued as you entered the Cavill family's posh neighborhood, seeing all the fancy and large three-story houses, the lush green grass of the front lawns and the expensive cars in their driveways. Parking, you all got out of the car and headed inside, greeted by Henry's parents in the foyer.

“Merry Christmas.” Marianne smiled, hugging you and Henry. “Welcome and Merry Christmas.” She said to your parents and little brother, as you and Henry greeted his father.

“Thank you and Merry Christmas, My Lady.” Your mother replied and smiled back, nervously bowing her head to Marianne.

“Please, call me Marianne.” She replied, smiling sweetly. “This is my husband, Colin.” She said, introducing him.

“Pleasure.” Colin greeted them, smiling warmly.

“I'm Tasha. This is my husband, Tristan.” Your mother answered, motioning to your father. “And this is our youngest son, Christophe.” She said, resting her hand on his shoulder.

“Your house is ginormous!” Christophe replied, his mouth hanging open.

Marianne and Colin chuckled, warmed. “Please, come in and make yourselves at home.” She said, motioning into the living room, where most of the group was congregating. “The other kids are playing in the backyard, if you want to join them, Christophe.” She offered your brother, then showed him the way out to the backyard.

“You want something to drink?” Henry asked you as you moved into the living room with everyone else.

“Yes, that would be fantastic.” You nodded, smiling up at him.

“All right.” Henry smiled back, kissing you softly, before going into the kitchen.

“Is it time yet?” Simon asked, coming into the kitchen with his little brother, to also grab himself and his wife something to drink.

“Soon.” Henry replied, pouring you a glass of chilled white wine. “I need the perfect moment.” He said, pouring himself a glass, then handed the bottle to Simon.

“Just don't chicken out.” Simon teased him, grinning.

“Chicken out of what?” Marianne asked, coming into the kitchen.

“The right moment.” Henry replied, feeling his face burn, and took a deep gulp of the chilled wine, trying to cool his face off and fortify his nerves.

“You'll find it, Henry.” She told him, rubbing his broad back, trying to be encouraging and supportive of her son. “Don't rush it.”

“I won't.” Henry sighed, picking up the two wine glasses. “I want it to be perfect.”

Henry took the glasses into the living room, finding you sitting on the couch and took a seat beside you, holding out one of the glasses. You smiled at him, taking the glass and kissed him on the cheek, before taking a sip of it. Henry wrapped an arm around you, sipped his wine and got caught up in the flow of the conversation that was going on with everybody.

“They're all so nice.” Your mother said as the two of you went into the kitchen for more wine.

“They really are.” You replied, smiling as you heard Henry's laugh carry into the kitchen. “They're incredibly loving and supportive, especially towards Henry and I.” You told her, then sighed.

Henry's mother had been right, people did find out about you being a Slummer, and it had happened sooner than both of you had thought it would.

A month after returning to London from Bristol, you and Henry were at a Cleric Fundraiser, which was held every year to raise money to donate to one of the lower Sectors, so they could use it as they saw fit; usually to help buy supplies for the Sector's Hospital. When a woman approached you, while Henry went to find the Fundraiser Manager, so he could donate money to the event.

“So, your High Marshal Cavill's new girl.” She said, lifting a sculpted brow at you.

“I am.” You replied, frowning at her, in her glittering and almost skin tight dress. “Who are you?”

“I'm Natasha, Beta Cleric Shaw's wife.” She told you, still giving you a mean and judgmental expression. “Henry and I dated, a while back.” She added, tossing her straight black hair over her shoulder with a swish of her head. “We were serious, for a moment, before I left him.” She said, an evil smugness glinting in her gray eyes.

“I never thought Henry would stoop so low, as to date a Slummer.” She said, her upper lip curling with distaste.

“H-how do you know that?” You asked, gulping and feeling your hands tremble.

“My husband was on the Council panel, when you testified against Oron Anderson.” Natasha replied, resting a hand on her hip. “He told me all about you being from Sector Twenty-Eight and how long you spent in that trafficker's warehouse in Thirty-One; before Henry bought you.”

“How's it feel to be his bought and paid for play thing?” She asked, looking you over.

“I'm not.” You replied, your voice barely audible.

“You can think that and Henry can tell you that, but we-” She motioned around the room, the gold and diamond bangles rattling on her thin wrist. “All know the truth.” She told you, tipping her nose up at you, then walked away.

Your breath hitched in your throat as hot tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, before turning your back to her and rushed out of the room. Henry had been halfway back, just missing Natasha walking away from you, when he saw the look of anguish on your face and rush out of the room. Scanning the room, trying to see what had caused it, Henry rushed after you. You took your heels off as you got out the front doors of the venue and ran into the manicured garden to the side of it. Henry finally caught up with you, finding you gulping down deep mouthfuls of cold night air by a massive fountain.

“Hey.” He whispered, resting his hand on your goosebump and chilled skin. “What's wrong?” He asked, shrugging out of his blazer and draping it over your shaking shoulders, before hugging you against his chest, your tears spilling over onto his dark gray dress shirt.

“What happened? Tell me.”

“They know.” You sobbed, clinging onto him and getting makeup all over his shirt.

“Who knows what, babe?” He asked, cupping your head in his hands and pulled your face away from his chest.

“They know what I am.” You cried, your bottom lip puffy and trembling.

Henry blinked at you for a moment, before his brain connected to what you meant and his eyes widened.

“Yeah.” You gasped and sighed. “They know I'm just a fucking sl-”

“Don't.” He snapped, shaking his head at you.

“I am, Henry.” You hissed back at him, becoming angry. “I'm a Slummer and they know it.” You huffed, trying to pull away from him.

Henry bit his lip, biting back his own frustrated anger. “Who told you this?” He demanded, keeping a hold on you.

“Your ex.”

Henry's shoulders slumped and he squeezed his eyes shut. “Natasha.” He growled between clenched teeth.

“Yes, her.” You nodded, folding your arms inside his blazer. “Told me how the two of you dated, before she left you, and that everyone knew that I was a Slummer, because her husband told her about me testifying at Twist's trial.”

“How the hell does she know you testified at Twist's trial.” Henry frowned, taken aback.

“Her husband is, apparently, Beta Cleric Shaw.”

“So, she did end up with a Cleric after all.” Henry sighed, shaking his head.

“What?” You snapped at him.

“The reason Natasha broke up with me, was because I wouldn't leave the Marshal Council to become either a Cleric or a Royal. She wanted that posh and expensive life that they have. But, I wouldn't do it, I love being a High Marshal. So, she left me, and apparently got what she wanted in the end.” He sighed, rubbing his face.

“But, I don't care about that. What I care about is her trying to hurt you.”

“She did a damn good job.” You whispered, staring down at your bare toes. “Called me, your bought and paid for plaything.”

“Look at me.” He whispered, touching his fingertips underneath your chin and lifted your head, until your wet eyes met his. “You're not my 'bought and paid for' plaything. We both know that, sweetheart. She's just a salty and unhappy woman, that only gets her happiness out of watching others suffer, and other people might know about you being from the lower Sectors, but she's only one crazy enough to say anything about it to your, my, or any of my family's face or within earshot of us either.” He told you, gently swiping his thumbs beneath your eyes, wiping away your tears.

“As for her husband speaking about the trial, when he's not allowed to speak to anyone about it outside of the Councils, and she's nowhere near a position on them, he's going to be in a load of trouble, when I bring it up to my mum.”

“I don't want him to get into trouble because his wife is apparently a bitch.” You told him, grasping his wrists.

“I know you don't, love.” Henry smiled at you. “But, if he's talking to his wife about them, then he's more than likely talking to others he's not supposed to, and that's a breach and violation of his position. The Councils have to be told about it.” He explained to you.

“What, will you not tell me things, if I were your wife?” You asked him, trying to tease him.

“I'm a High Marshal, my job is less top secret and involved than a Cleric or Royal.” Henry replied, chuckling. “I don't know how interested you'd be in me talking about homicide cases, they tend to be a bit graphic.”

“I wouldn't mind. Especially, if you needed to get something off your chest, if one is really bothering you.” You confessed, biting your lip as you looked up at him, recalling all the nightmares you had soothed him through.

“I'll keep that in mind.” Henry smiled, kissing you. “You want to go back in?” He asked you, looking back at the building. “Or we could ditch it, go back home and have a movie night.”

You pressed your lips together, thinking about it. Part of you wanted to go back in and face Natasha's no doubt judgmental glares the rest of the night, showing her that you weren't going to be intimidated by her and what she thought, but if you were honest, now that you were calm, you didn't actually care what she thought.

“I like the idea of movie night.” You said, looking back up at Henry.

“So do I.” Henry agreed. “I'm dying for a pair of sweats.”

“You are?” You laughed, looking at yourself in the tight gown and your bare, but screaming, feet.

“I wouldn't mind helping you out of that.” Henry chuckled, grinning and winking at you.

You grinned up at him and had a feeling that the impromptu movie night wouldn't last long, if the expression on Henry's face was anything to go off of.

“What is it, honey?” Your mother asked, seeing that far off look in your eyes.

“Nothing.” You laughed, shaking it off.

The back door came flying open and several of the kids came running in from outside, yelling and screaming as they went to their respective parents.

“Christophe, what's the matter?” Your mother asked him, frowning.

“Come look! Come look!” He said, grabbing his mother's hand and dragging her out the back door.

You frowned after them and looked to Henry as he and everyone from the living room filed through the kitchen and out the back door. “What's going on, Babe?” You asked him, as he took your hand and guided you outside with them.

“It's snowing, Nugget.” He grinned at you, excited for you to see it.

You let Henry lead you outside, gasping as you stepped out onto the back deck and into the heavy flurry of thick white flakes. Henry smiled, moving to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you back against him, kissing the back of your hair and resting his chin on top of your head, gently swaying as you both watched the snow fly. You were memorized by it, even with how cold it was, tilting your head back and smiling up at Henry, who smiled back at you, kissing your forehead.

“I'll be right back, I have to grab something.” He said, letting go of you and going back inside.

“This is amazing.” Christophe said, and stuck his tongue out like Henry's nieces and nephews, catching the flakes on it.

You smirked at him, tilting your own head back a bit and did the same, giggling as the snowflakes melted on your tongue and oblivious of Henry coming up behind you.

“Babe?” He called out, getting your attention.

You turned around to face him, but had to drop your eyes down slightly, as he knelt before you in the gathering snow on the wood deck. “Henry?” You answered, blinked down at his, confused.

“Oh god.” You heard someone gasp.

“I know,” Henry started, looking incredibly worried and nervous. “we've been through a whole lot since we met, a year and a half a go, but for all that, I wouldn't have wanted to endure any of that, without you.” He explained, fidgeting and fumbling for something in his back pocket. “I love you. I want to be with you and spend the rest of my life with you, only you.”

“So, I want to ask you something.”

“Okay.” You grinned, feeling how warm your cheeks were getting and the flurry of butterflies flying around your stomach, like the snowflakes in the air around you.

“Will you marry me?” He asked, in a rush, his nerves getting the better of him, as he opened the box and revealed a beautiful diamond ring.

A huge smile pulled across your face and giggled nervously, you were speechless for a minute, completely stunned and surprised by Henry proposing to you, then finally managed to answer.

“Yes.” You nodded, giddy. “Yes!” You laughed.

“Oh thank god.” Henry laughed back, relieved, then slipped the ring onto your finger, standing up and wrapping his arms around you, kissing you deeply.

Everyone clapped and cheered, happy for the both of you.

Five months later, you and Henry walked down the aisle and married, in a private ceremony, attended only by friends and family, the people that mattered to the both of you, and it was two years after that, that you two of you moved into a house in his family's neighborhood and welcomed your first child, a boy, that you both mutually agreed on, and named, Michail. If it wasn't for your brother, in so many ways, neither you or Henry would have met and fallen in love.

Your life was perfect now and even though you had lost your brother, neither you or Henry would change it for anything.

-- END --

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antiloreolympus · 3 years

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8 Anti LO Asks

1. It doesn’t really make sense for a long term comic such as LO to have such a drastic change in the artstyle, and even more you can’t really call it an improvement when all the interesting parts of the art style are now gone and all that it is now it’s just some basic same-face and body art style with barely any backgrounds. RS is incredibly talented for illustrative artwork and it’s really a shame she’s not doing that anymore and instead has left it to her team, with leaving them very messy sketches. The artstyle in the beginning had life and glamour and now it’s just very dull and boring. That’s not an improvement

2. I genuinely can’t think of any man in LO that’s even half way decent. Poseidon maybe? Hephaestus? Those are the only two I can manage, meanwhile the rest are either Rachel purposely ruining them because of her own biases (Zeus, Apollo, Thanatos to an extent) or are “good” men who are just creeps who disrespect all the women around them and are super creepy and obsessed over a literal teenager who acts like a child (Hades, Ares, Hermee, Eros, etc). The women aren’t much better either.

3. About Perse making Hades childish: (this is no way defending him, just some speculation, and tbh I doubt that RS has thought this through haha) I wonder if he becomes a horny teenager around her because she’s a goddess of fertility? Would that have any affect on him? Doesn’t excuse his creepy ass behavior, but could explain it a bit, I guess?

4. Okay so I'll be honest I dont really see any reason to 'simp' over Any of the LO characters?

Also, not to start sh*t, but - I think part of the reason why some of the LO fandom does not like Zeus (and perhaps gives Hera more leeway - at least in terms of cheating) is because:

Mythologically Zeus is a known cheater / rapist (Io for example, or Semele)

They see Hera cheating a Zeus as okay (its not) because he's been known to cheat on her in the past / fans see Hera cheating on Zeus with Hades as 'justified revenge' for what he's (Zeus) put her through

I'll be honest I dont really see Zeus (or Hades for that matter) as good rulers because

Despite other deities (like Eros) doing 'acts of wrath' - they get away with it because they often have someone to back them up (like Aphrodite offering to sleep with Zeus to get her son out of trouble) - but the one time Persephone does something wrong (an act of wrath) - Zeus wants to give her the Prometheus treatment - mainly so he can feel like an in control king whos subjects respect him

The reason this sound so odd is because of RS writing choices. Zeus is a grade A d*ck who is willing to destroy a 'young girls promising career' because she made 1 mistake that one time. But at the same time the act of wrath is framed oddly because Demeter doesn't want her daughter to get in trouble so she covers it up (its like the equivalent of hiding a murder from the cops).

Zeus wanting to Prometheus Kore seems overly harsh because she is a Child. (Well a teenager) - so it adds to the "Zeus is a d*ck" card, because she doesnt have the life experience to "get away with" stuff like the other deities because she is young AND sheltered.

Like again, the whole concept of Human Laws applying to Gods is so confusing:

Would Zeus have been this harsh if Demeter had simply come forward in the first place about Persephone's murder rampage? Why did she blackmail / get other deities involved to cover it up? Is Zeus THAT much of a d*ck in Demeters eyes that she knows he would harshly punish a child for something "she didnt mean to do" (killed mortals based on a feeling?)

Why is there a motherf*cking trial in the first place? Do All the other deities get the right to a fair trial or is this a special case? (Like can any deity just offer to sleep with Zeus and he'll let them off the hook?). If the other deities had commited the same crime would the trial / punishment be the same or does Zeus just have a rage boner because he was lied to? If thats the case then why are the other deities taking Persephones side during the trial? (Ares I can maybe understand cause hes the God of War and stuff but everyone else is taking Perse's side because their either her personal friend or family member (Hecate, Hermes, Demeter, Hades etc).

Why are there certain laws like "Zeus cant get to Persephone because she has clemency in the underworld" but other deities - including Leto, Demeter and others (like Perse's nymph family) can just stroll into Hades house? Why is Hermes still on house arrest? Why are Hades + Persephone throwing a house party when shes on trial for scythe crimes??!!!

Why are the gods bound by such petty squabbles?

The way RS set up the governing "laws" in universe just doesnt make a whole lotta sense. Also, sorry this got ramblely.

5. Tbh i don’t think that Hades acting differently when he’s with Persephone is a bad thing, as a concept. But there are many issues with this such as the fact that Persephone is barely legal and Hades act like an actual child around her. Obviously when you’re with someone they are going to act different than they do when they are at work. The problem is that Hades essentially goes from the “cold-scary king” to a 17 year old hormonal boy when he’s with Persephone. And him making out with her in a middle of a store or them golfing with diamonds or him making out with Persephone again in front of his workplace is not exactly acceptable behaviour from a king. If Hades acts all lovey-dovey with Persephone when their at their home together it’s different, but when they’re at a public place they can’t really do that. I would say that he has to keep a status about him but from what we’ve seen all the citizens of the underworld hate him and don’t respect him at all, from yelling at him to actually fighting with him, so idk how much status there is actually attached to him

6. I swear, the majority of the “cute” HxP moments in LO just seem like a single father dealing with his hyperactive 8 year old over the supposed future intimidating rulers who Rachel is obsessed about talking and drawing their sex life. Is it really that hard to depict Persephone even acting like a smart teenager at the very least, as opposed to an airhead grade schooler? It doesn’t scream cute to me, it seems more like a father/daughter relationship. It’s just weird.

7. i mean, i have a LO oc who's persephone's brother (fertility god) between demeter and zeus. dude got thrown into tartyrus to cover up the affair and now serves cronus. he was the god of summer, and my reasoning was demeter's seasons/harvest + summer thunderstorms. wrote a whole minific i will never post about him and persephone realizing everyone around them are assholes and healing together. so the mistress-of-zeus oc isnt that weird.

8. I’m not a Zeus stan by any means, but I do find him one of the most interesting characters, and one that RS has, in her attempts to make him be the worst ever to make Hades look better, actually way more interesting and compelling than the majority of the cast. He doesn’t lie or whine to the audience he’s some good person like Hades when he’s not, he owns that he’s a dick and doesn’t bullshit the audience into thinking he’s someone he’s not. RS tries to show us he’s a “bad” king, yet we see no proof it beyond what, he wants to uphold the law P broke and doesnt kiss Hades’ butt? That’s not a bad king, it’s a good one that he doesn’t let family ties or lust cloud his judgement, unlike Hades or Hera, for example. I don’t condone his cheating either, but it’s not fair to hate him for it, but love it that Hades cheated on Minthe so he could get into a teenager’s skirt and praise Hera for sleeping with her brother in law while punishing Zeus’ mistresses because she’s being a fake “loyal” wife. Just because he’s a deeply flawed, even a bad person doesn’t make him a bad character. Hades and Hera and even Persephone are awful people who do worse than Zeus, yet they’re loved and praised for it, all while being written with the depth of a puddle.

#anti lo #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #lo critical

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danthediamondminecart · 4 years

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SHADY OAKS THEORY!

This is a theory that Kindness (The netherite sword James found) is an evil artefact that is trying to take over the server! CWs for Roleplay and Mind Control, full theory under the cut!

Alrighty, let’s go! So, to recap what I said before, but in a bit more detail. Basically, the netherite sword (Kindness) is actually a cursed entity, trying to take over the server. The way it does this is by controlling their mind and causing them to cause anarchy. This is what I established before. Let’s look at this in more detail.

So, how exactly does the sword get control of it’s owners? Magic, obviously. The sword is cursed, and has the ability to just…control the mind, I guess? It can only control those who wield it, obviously. This means Squid is already controlled. (And possibly James, but I’ll get into that later.) Now we could always go for straight up control but I don’t think that’s the case. Rather, I think it’s making it’s ‘minions’ per se think that this is what they want to do. You want to cause anarchy, you want to attack your friends, etc. All under the guise of kindness and fun and games, of course! And, the sword wants to spread it’s abilities, so you’ll want to give the sword to even more people, so that they will be infected too! What fun. Oh, and design wise, the non-infected would be able to tell who’s infected by purple eyes, and later netherite growths.

So, who’s infected? Squid is an obvious one. He’s managed to cause anarchy already with four players, betraying both Dan and Justin. He is also planning on auctioning off the sword (Source: Shady Oaks Updates, thank you to whoever’s running that, you’re a godsend!), hence spreading the infection further. He’s definitely the catalyst to all of this. James really shouldn’t have given him the sword.

Speaking of James...is HE infected? It’s debatable, and this depends on how quickly the sword works. If he was infected, then the sword, rather than going straight to arson, has decided to pretend to be him, thereby passing the sword off unsuspiciously (see: James giving the sword to Squid). I doubt this is the case, because James really didn’t hold the sword long. Instead, I think he felt the sword was off so he went ‘hey, I should give this to the head admin!’. Woo baby, he screwed up. But the sword was possibly there, still affecting his thoughts...I’ll expand on that eventually.

Who else may get infected? This all depends on the future of the story, but honestly, so early, anyone’s game. I’ll explain how each person (Dan, Justin and the New Member:tm:) could possibly get infected in a second.

So, what’s for the future with the sword? The auction, obviously. With the sword trying to get Squid (the OWNER by the way, Kindness already has a one up on everyone else) to get it off, anyone’s game. Who’s most likely? Well, there’s no guesses, but I’ll go and theorise. First, Thinknoodles. I can’t see the sword doing much with him other than using his vengeance during the trial he was not told about.

The New Member. Their confusion would be easy for the sword to take hold of, and then the sword can work it’s way up the ranks and down the ranks (in the sense of, Owner, Admin, Player).

James. If the sword didn’t get a hold on James, it would want to finish off what it started, right? Plus, with James’s...chaos, it could be incredibly useful and feasible to the others. If James was infected, this wouldn’t be the case.

Finally, Dan. Dan is the one hosting the auction, and it’s known he wants to become a Keralis kinnie and scam people. What if he rigs the auction so he gets the sword? That would be falling right into it’s trap. And not only that, Dan is smart, the sword would use that to it’s knowledge. If James is infected, one of the other 2 admins will become the ‘protagonist’ of the series (Likely Justin). If James is not infected, he likely will be the protagonist instead.

Let’s finally talk about the far far future. Squid has confirmed that more lore-esque artefacts will pop up. There’s a few ways this could be brought into fruition, I’ll mention 3. Firstly, what I like to call The Hatchetfield Gang. This is a reference to the dolls from Black Friday and Nightmare Time, a musical and a web series made by Team Starkid. Basically, each artefact wants to take over the server, but they’ll do it in a different way. Kindness, a netherite sword is working via mindcontrol and subtle anarchy, and likely poses the biggest threat. What if there was a diamond sword which pushes it’s holders to kill each other? A golden sword which pushes it’s holders to steal from each other? The possibilities are endless.

There’s also the second possibility, what I like to call The Elements Of Disharmony. That’s an MLP reference. This is saying that there will be multiple netherite swords each named after a different quality, but they have the same aim, which is to use mind control to take over the server. This would lead to multiple swords being passed around, causing the hive mind to spread further.

And thirdly, the final possibility I’ll put out, The Destructors. Don’t be fooled by the name, this one’s actually kinda boring. Basically, Kindness is an evil overlord and the other artefacts are what’s needed to stop it. For the likelihood, the third one is more likely because Shady Oaks will be less dark than other ones, though I could see the first happening too.

Of course, this is all a theory! A MINECRAFT THEORY!

Leave your theories in the tags, reblogs or send me asks >:))) I crave interaction

#Cw mind control #Roleplay #shady oaks retirement smp....#shady oaks smp #shady oaks retirement smp #dantdm #thinknoodles #thnxcya #iballisticsquid #kindness the sword #yandan rambles

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val-aquenta · 3 years

Text

Mace Windu Appreciation prompt: Friendship and Music

Here on ao3

In the creche, there is an emphasis on music as a symbol of harmony. There are lullabies that they sing and rhythm games they play. Mace can recall, very faintly as it is an early memory, his hands clapping rhythmically with Agen’s. Their hands were rather small, but they still somehow had managed to keep their movements similar enough to not upset the balance, the chanting word went faster and faster until they could not keep it up, and they missed a beat falling to the floor in uncontrollable giggles.

Mace can remember memories of their creche master, Master Ye, singing softly to the younger children before bed. He had a gravelly voice, low and rough, but still soothing to listen to. It was wonderful to listen to the old nautolan read from books. His voice was rhythmic, almost as though he were singing. Ye had been on the active roster for missions, but an injury in his leg had meant he had retired to the Temple for archival duty. Eventually, the creche had drawn his attention enough for him to become a creche master.

Master Ye also had a habit of humming lowly under breath as he completed mindless tasks. All sorts of songs from many planets were in his repertoire. Mace recalls sitting close to the nautolan as he graded some papers from an older year, humming some strange song where the notes vibrated softly if they were long enough. “Master Ye, where does the song come from?” Master Ye had blinked as though surprised by Mace’s presence.

“It’s from Mon Cala. They live underwater there, so the sound travels differently.” Master Ye explains. They had been studying Mon Cala recently, so Mace understood what the old creche master was talking about. “I do not do the original song justice, Mace.” He murmurs before. Mace frowns, he wants to hear the music again. “Of course, young one,” Ye said, humour twinkling in his eyes. He begins singing again, the notes long and carrying. The notes begin to push Mace to sleep, his eyes closing and his body leaning against the nautolan. Small hands reach out to grab at Ye’s robes and, as a response to the child almost falling from his perch by Ye’s side, the nautolan’s tentacles shift and wrap carefully around Mace, cradling him in a protective embrace.

As Cyslin’s new Padawan, Mace found himself constantly being exposed to mirialan culture. Although she might not wear the most traditional of mirialan dresses as Knight Aleen wore, she still had a multitude of other forms of mirialan culture in her quarters. Her tattoos, signifying her personal achievements and spiritual enlightenment were one of the most obvious. She’d let him press his hands against the small black diamonds to get a feel of them in the Force. Strangely enough, they had felt like peace. When he had told her this, she had laughed with twinkling eyes, hands holding his gently. “Well, my Padawan, I suppose they would…” She said little more on the nature of her achievements after that, vaguely citing her own Master and some kind of trial as a Padawan.

In a corner of their rooms, illuminated by gentle sunlight, but not in its direct path, hung a beautiful tapestry of a bare grey planet, its borders intermingling black, green, and gold. Mace once asked what it meant, where it was from. Cyslin had smiled, a proud feeling settling across her shoulders in the Force. It was not pride in an arrogant way, simply an acknowledgement of her accomplishments and a joy that they had been reached. “I made it with my Master’s help,” she had said. “When I went to get my tattoos, we spent time making this tapestry. It was… a wonderful experience, being on Mirial”

“Did it take a long time?” Mace asked, leaning into Cyslin’s warm hand as it gently fell onto his shoulder.

“Yes, but I think it was worth it,” she rubbed his shoulder, nostalgia pricking up in the Force. Cyslin’s Master had died a few years back, yet the mention of him still sent her into deep melancholy. “Don’t you?”

Mace had looked at the tapestry somewhat critically before saying, “Yes.”

Today, Cyslin was seated in front of him with a pot full of tea. An upturned cup sat in front of him, a twin in front of her. She flipped it over with the Force before pouring the tea. Mace waited until she had finished and then waited some more before reaching out and taking a sip, nodding at her, allowing the host to drink the tea. “Thank you, Padawan,” She said, her hands curling around the warm cup. There was a pause before she spoke again, “I was wondering, have you heard mirialan music?”

Mace finished his sip. “No… not yet?” He finished, looking hopefully at Cyslin. He had not heard much of it, but he had heard it was one of the few cultures which really used the Force for much of their art.

Cyslin took a long draw from her cup before placing it down on the table with a soft clink. “I do have a couple of instruments…” She began, a smile stretching across her face. “Mostly wind.”

“Can I… do you play?” Mace asked, a bit hesitant, his cup placed on the table as well.

Cyslin’s eyes wrinkled in the corners as she smiled, “Of course I do.” She sat up with a soft sigh, moving to the corner of the room where a wooden box sat, elegant carvings across the lid and sides of the box. She took the lid off, placing it to the side gently before reaching into the box and pulling out a long cylindrical instrument. Elegant artistic swirls and designs covered it, painstakingly carved onto the instrument. Even from here, Mace could feel the pulses in the Force, a result of the love and time poured into the carving of the instrument. It was not a familiar presence though. “My Master carved this as an apprentice. I carved mine too. Perhaps… in time you will carve one yourself?” She held the instrument fondly in her grip before extending it to Mace, “Now, though, you can learn with his.”

Mace reached out to grab it, but hesitated, “Are you sure I can? I mean… I’m not mirialan…” Cyslin tilted her head, her short hair bouncing to the side with the movement.

“Padawan… it is a gift, one I share with you.” She pushed the instrument into his hand, closing Mace’s hand around. “I know you, Mace, and I know you will respect it.”

Mace hesitantly gripped it, bringing it to him. He cradled it close, fingers running reverently over the carvings. They were intricate, tiny, and very detailed. “Thank you, Master,” he whispered, holding the flute limply in his grip.

“Do not worry, Padawan,” Cyslin said before turning back and reaching into the box and removing another flute. Hers was longer and the carvings more geometric. “Now… watch the way I play, both in the Force and with your eyes.” And she began. Mace did not want to say that it was the best music he’d heard, poor Shaak would be saddened at having lost, but it was truly close. In the Force, her happiness could be felt somehow coming from both her and out the mouth of the flute. Her fingers danced effortlessly, playing a fast and lively song. Mace closed his eyes, hearing the soft notes as they plucked through the air, feeling the joy in the Force. Soon, though, Cyslin changed pace and the song became slower, more sombre. The notes were long and would vibrate as though cracking with emotions. After a few moments of her long mourning notes, the pitch moved up, and it became almost agonizingly caked with emotions. There were a few notes, high pitched and intense before there was a silence Mace did not dare break. After a few seconds, she lowered the flute, inclining her head in respect. Mace clapped respectfully.

“Master! That was wonderful. I did not know you played so well.” He took in a deep breath to replenish lost reserves. Cyslin let out a chuckle, shuffling a bit closer so that they were side to side.

“Well, my Padawan. I’m sure you will soon be as good as I.” She said, and then indicated he pick up his flute. “Now, here, your hand should be curved as though you have a sabre in your palms…”

Depa had been gone for many months on a retreat to Chalacta to pass through enlightenment. She went every few years to learn about Chalacta, just like Mace had gone to Haruun Kal to learn about the Korun people. Indeed, Mace found himself rather nervous about this meeting as Depa had been taking the trials of enlightenment. The ship was coming soon. “Patience, my Padawan.” Cyslin murmured at his side, hand reaching out to press against his. The cane, a permanent fixture on her side, clacked against the stone floor. “She will be here when she gets here.”

“Of course, Master,” Mace breathed out, tilting his head, and walking with Cyslin slowly towards the docking centre Depa would be coming on. The injury on Cyslin’s hip, a blaster straight to the hip, meant her career as an active Jedi was over. However, she appeared to have found a new purpose in the archives. Mace often found her and Madame Nu in deep discussions about some obscure historical fact. “Aurek-5. Here we are.” Cyslin rested her hand in his elbow daintily.

“It’s five minutes late…” Cyslin frowned, unhappy with tardiness to any large degree.

“Well, Cyslin, it seems we were also a bit late. It should be here in only a minute.” He said, patting the hand against his softly.

She frowned at him, “Mace dear, we all know Corrie transport somehow thinks a minute is three times longer than it is.” Mace let out a chuckle.

“Aren’t Jedi supposed to have faith?” He asked slyly, eyes catching her blue ones. Cyslin’s eyes sparkle in a familiar manner.

“I have faith, my Padawan,” She began, lips tilting into a lazy smile, “but even you must agree that the transport system seems to bend itself backwards to subvert our expectations.

Mace begins to speak before jerking as a ship begins to dock. “Master…” It appeared that, as always, Cyslin was right. The Corrie ship had come late, but not as late as they had thought.

“I can see, Mace.” She grouched, though she too was smiling widely. She had a soft spot for Depa, always had ever since Mace had rescued the young girl from the pirate-slavers.

“You think…?” He trailed off slowly.

“She’ll be Depa either way.” Cyslin offered, this time more serious. Her hand gripped his arm, not tight enough to hurt, but enough to be felt pretty clearly. Mace finds himself smiling softly as he feels Depa’s Force presence come closer, mingling with his joyfully.

Mace sighed, relaxing into Cyslin’s hold, “That she will…” He trailed off, waiting a respectful distance away. As the ship's doors dropped open, Mace caught a beige blur going his way, weaving past other people on the platform before she’s standing in front of him. On the bridge of her nose, two bright silver spots stand out. “Depa…”

Depa smiled widely, “Master Mace, Master Cyslin…” She bowed a bit, something clashing in her bag behind her. She looked shocked for a moment before hurriedly opening her bag. “I… there was this musical instrument on Chalacta. So, I thought you two might like to have it? You’re both music nerds…” She trailed off as she revealed a circular metallic instrument. Little sticks on the corners were revealed as she pulled away the thin flimsi wrapping. “Here… you flick these and it-” A soft plink comes from the instrument. She flicks another and a lower plink, almost the sound of a water droplet falling into a pond, comes forth. “Lots of kids have them. They’re easy to play, you see?” She plucked another stick, an even lower noise making itself known. She looked up at the two. “Here.”

Cyslin opens her hands, receiving the gift and plucking a few notes. A dissonant noise rises and Cyslin laughs. It had been getting harder and harder to play her flute, so a new instrument, less reliant on breathing would be much easier for Cyslin to play. Mace and Depa traded smiles, their presences mingling in greeting as the months spent separated slowly melt away into their comfortable familiarity.

The music in Naboo was boisterous, a contrast to the sombre funeral march yesterday. The drums and chanting from the crowd, paired with the extravagant decorations gave an illusion of little having happened. Mace, however, could see the cracks in this facade. Every couple of buildings, damage from the occupation on Naboo was showing whether it was in busted down doors or somewhat crumbling buildings. He knew the worst damage was hidden from sight, the victory parade kept far away from the damaged sectors in order to keep morale up. Similarly, he could see the cracks in the young man, at the Queen’s side. Every now and then, the blue eyes would fog up, turning a glassy sheen before clearing quickly. His sadness hung around him like a cloud.

Mace could not judge him. Losing a Master to a childhood nightmare at the cusp of knighthood was painful, to say the least. Losing a Master was difficult by itself. Force knows how long Mace had mourned before he returned to a normal point after Cyslin’s death. Depa had helped, as always, but there was only so much she could do, and she had also been grieving. Nevertheless, where Obi-Wan had fit in amongst the funeral pyre and mournful notes, he now stood out of place in the joyous victory parade.

Mace had been told the music would continue for a while, long into the night as the grand parade fractured into smaller parties. The council had been invited to the Queen’s party, and some had accepted. Mace thought that perhaps he should go after Obi-Wan, offer some kind of comfort after a loss. Yesterday, the man had needed some space to grieve by himself at his Master’s side, but today he could use some company or, at the very least a shoulder to cry on. The Queen grabbed the white orb of peace and gifted it to the king who lifted it to the light with a grand proclamation of, “peace!” If only, Mace mused, if only peace was so easy for us to accomplish.

The Queen and her retinue as well as the Gungans retreated soon after to the palace for a party. Most of the Council left with them, Depa turning back to give him a long look but, after a quick gesture, she turned and followed Plo up the steps. The young boy, Skywalker, followed the Queen, seemingly entranced by the girl. Mace turned to look for Obi-Wan, but the man had seemingly disappeared. He sighed and began walking towards the guest quarters they were assigned.

The quarters were spacious, and as was becoming well known to Mace, elegant and aesthetically pleasing. His quarters in the Temple were still better, but the lovely swirling decorations and small pieces of art were a beauty to be sure. Obi-Wan had gotten a single room, small and in the corner of the wing, out of the way. The space between the other Jedi and him meant that Mace had hardly seen any sign of the man other than in the funeral the previous day, a few meetings today, and the victory parade. Interestingly enough, there is a faint sound of music coming from Obi-Wan’s room.

Mace knocks on the door and the music cuts off abruptly. There is silence in response, but Mace could feel the grief clearly. “Knig- Obi-Wan… Are you in there?” He winced, it was rather obvious that he knew the man was there.

There was a sniffle before Obi-Wan responded, “Yes.” There was a pause where Mace contemplated opening the door, somewhat worried for the Knight. “Does anyone… need me?” He asks quietly.

“No…” He waits for a moment before speaking again, “Can I come in?” The question hangs in the air for a moment. There is a silence between them, only the light sound of horns blowing in the background. Then, an audible click as the door opens. It was unlocked. Obi-Wan presses his lips together, blinking and looking anywhere other than at Mace. He blinks at Mace unsurely before allowing him to enter the room.

“Was there something you needed me for?” He asks hesitantly, closing the door behind Mace. The rooms are almost spotless. The couch, in contrast to the rest of the room, has a blanket haphazardly strewn across. On the low table, there is a speaker, probably the source of music, and a cup of tea, quickly on its way to cooling down too much.

Mace turns back to Obi-Wan, “Not really. I wanted to know how you’ve been.” He winces again. Of course Obi-Wan is not doing well, he’s just lost his Master. “Apologies. I know that it can not be easy and that it hurts, but know you do not have to suffer alone.” He offers a hand out, stretching it across the space between them. “If you wish it, I can keep you company, help you if you need it.” Obi-Wan shivers, staring at the hand for a moment before reaching to accept it.

“Ok…” He sags a bit, allowing Mace to guide him back to the couch, allowing Mace to wrap the blanket around his shoulder tight. “Can I…?” He motions for the speaker on the low table.

“Of course, of course,” Mace says handing the speaker to him before gesturing at the cup. “I’ll go warm this up, alright?” Obi-Wan nods absently, fiddling with the speaker in hand. Once Mace has left the living space to find a heater, the music starts up again. It is low and familiar, something Qui-Gon enjoyed playing when they were younger. He did not know the man had enjoyed it still. If he focuses hard enough, he can hear the soft sniffles and sobs as well.

Ponds said that all different battalions had different music. Mace understood it. Obi-Wan said that the 212th had softer music, usually more sombre. They enjoyed lots of instrumentals. And many of the clones had learnt different instruments, often performing little concerts during long hyperspace rides. The 501st, by contrast, had rather boisterous and raucous music, involving lots of chanting and marching beats. The 187th music was popular. They enjoyed it so much that Mace would bring data files of popular music from Coruscant whenever he returned from the city.

This time, he had brought back a Sy Snootles album. He remembered, vaguely, that the singer had killed a Hutt at some point, but he honestly could not fully remember. It was something of a gag gift, one well-received considering Pond’s face when he had revealed the file with a flourish of his robes.

“Sir… ah, I can’t tell if this is a joke…” He trailed off, turning his face from the data file to look up at Mace incredulously.

Mace chuckled and brought out a different datafile from one Radiohead, pressing it into Ponds’ warm hand. “Of course… Here… their latest hits.” The relief on Ponds face pulled a rare smile from him. These days were dark, and finding a reason to laugh was getting difficult. “Now… if possible, do you think I could listen too? I have not heard much of their music,” he admitted, hands folding into each other under the large robe sleeves. Ponds had called them impractical.

Ponds’ eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise, “Of course, sir. I’m sure the clones would be happy to have you with us.” He looked at the two data files in hand, contemplating something before asking it, “General Billaba told us you were into music?”

Force, Mace would never get used to these new titles. Nevertheless, he answered the question, “Yes… though I’m afraid that it is not exactly the kind of music you seem to enjoy.” He smiled apologetically.

“Well, sir, I’m sure the clones would like it either way.” He paused for a moment before speaking again, “Do you think… you could teach some of us? Those that want to know?”

Mace contemplates it for a fraction of a second, “Of course, Commander. Let’s hope your men are more adept at learning than Depa was.” He tacks on jokingly, smiling easily with his… friend. Yes, they are friends now, he supposes.

“Well, sir, You know better than most of their adaptability.” Ponds takes a moment, placing the data files into a pocket and shifting his helmet from side to side. “Perhaps… you could show us how you play? I’d want to hear it…?” The man’s fingers clench on the helmet and Mace can vaguely see his reflection in the white parts of the plastoid armour.

“If I am not too out of practice, I will give a concert.” He pauses, thinking to the schedule he knows of Obi-Wan. “In fact… if the 212th really do join, we might get Obi-Wan to join as well. He plays the violin wonderfully.” Ponds blinks, a bit shocked.

“Of course, it’s only if you want to, sir. You don’t need to,” he is quick to assure, armour creaking a bit under the pressure.

Mace lays a gentle hand on the clone’s shoulder after a moment of hesitation. “Commander, I would be happy to have a chance to play again, and I’m sure Obi-Wan feels the same.” He tries to bring the right words to mind, but he’s always found it somewhat difficult. Even with age, finding them is hard. “I would be very happy to perform for the men if they wanted it.” The man shifts underneath his palm, sagging a bit in relaxation, but only a bit.

“Well… in that case, sir, I can try to find an audience?”

“Please, though Ponds, no holos if you will.” It has become a running joke between the two after a somewhat disastrous attempt at wartime press on the battlefield. The crew had been a bit shocked by the battlefield, and it had led to the strangest interviews Mace and Ponds have ever experience.

“Of course, sir,” Ponds is quick to assure, a sly smirk catching the corners of his lips, “I will endeavour to keep you out of the press.” Is his response. Mace smiles, it is good that Ponds is by his side. A light in this sea of darkness. Ponds starts walking by his side as they walk to the mess, helmet under his elbow. Yes… it is good, if only for a moment.

#mace windu #obi wan kenobi #commander ponds #mace windu appreciation week #mace windu appreciation #Depa Billaba #cyslin myr #duna writes #star wars fanfic #fanfic

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lovemesickly · 4 years

Text

plastic hearts - prologue

plastic hearts masterlist

a/n : this is my first ever fanfiction that i’ve written on tumblr, so i hope that most of you if not all of you enjoy reading my story. also quick side note if you didn’t know before but during this book (much later) i plan for the main character to have a love interest. based on what you’ll know about the mc, please feel free to share your opinion on who you think her love interest should be.

chapter warning(s) : none so far

prologue : job hunting

song : sunlight by hozier

It was days like today that made it hard to get up, the woman’s body, who was laying in her bed, ached with every breath she took. She was tired, exhausted and if she had it her way she’d go back to sleep, but it seemed that every time she closed her eyes she was plagued with the feeling of terror. Stretching her arms out, she pulled the warm covers off of her just to rest her feet on the stinging cold hardwood. Trying to wake herself up she took a moment, running her palms over her eyes trying her hardest to rub the sleep out of them.

Though she ended up taking more than a moment as she got lost in her thoughts, lost in the feeling of the coldness that enveloped her in a hug. Finally after trial and tribulation, she managed to stand up on her feet. Some how her body caring for itself as she was dressed and ready to go about her day. Stepping out into her hallway, she ended up shutting her front door with her wallet and keys in hand. Double checking that her apartment was in fact locked, she looked down at her watch covered wrist only to see that it was fifteen minutes to two.

Racking her brain she calculated the time in her head, estimating that she should be back home at the latest by six thirty. Tucking her hands in the pockets of her jean jacket, she started her journey of trying to get outside, her feet themselves carrying her down the stairs. Once making her way outside, she started to trek to her destination. She had one objective today and that was to find a job. And with the rate she was going she honestly wouldn’t be able to survive off of the money she had left in her bank account.

By now an hour had passed and she hadn’t had any luck with jobs. Continuing to search the streets of Washington D.C. to find help wanted signs, the corner of her eyes seemed to catch a blur of black. Sharply turning her head, the woman got whiplash as she looked down the street only to see a black suv with tinted windows pointed in her direction entirely. She wanted to get a closer look as she couldn’t see who was in the car but knew someone was as the engine was running.

Trying to not look into it too much, she started to walk again turning her head back to it’s original position only to take a quick glance back at the suv. Though the moment she did, she was filled with surprise as the spot it previously occupied was now vacant. Huffing under her breath, the woman received weird looks as she spoke to herself silently but not as silent as she had though, “it’s nothing Alek, it’s nothing.”

Continuing with her task for the day, (the now named woman) Alek walked down every street of the metropolitan area. With that, her luck had gotten better as she managed to score a couple of interviews on the spot. Though, with every interview she was only told that they would call her in the next couple of days with the news if she got the job or not. And to be honest with how everything has been going lately she’d be surprised if she actually somehow got hired.

Furthering her quest, the sun had now set as it was close to six pm, the city of Washington D.C. busier then it had been before. By now Alek just wanted to get back to her apartment and take a blistering hot shower as her whole body was numb from the frigid cold weather. Trying to get some feeling back in her feet, she started trekking back to her apartment.

About to cross the street, Alek looked towards her right and left to make sure no cars were near by and that it was safe to cross. Looking around it was clear to the naked eye that the street was safe to cross but only to that of the naked eye. For a second she too had thought it was safe until she saw something reflect in the darkness of the night.

As her eyes couldn’t depict what exactly she had seen her feet started to carry her towards the reflective object. Alek had only taken about 3 steps when all of a sudden she seemed to realize that the reflective object wasn’t an object at all but it was actually a car. The black suv that she had seen earlier in the day to be exact. Usually, she wouldn’t be so concerned about the suv but having seen the exact same one more times this week than she really has with any other cars, it bothered her greatly.

Shaking her head, she knew exactly what the source, causing the suv to follow her every move, was. Knowing that it wasn’t going to stop until she put an end to it, she ended up turning around changing her destination to that of a bus stop instead of her apartment. Alek honestly couldn’t believe that it had to result in this, at first when she noticed the black suv she wasn’t at all worried. It was pretty normal to see suvs all around Washington D.C. it was a sight everyone sees everyday.

Though, to have seen the same suv multiple days in a row and to see it almost everywhere she went, irked her in more ways than one. Reaching the bus stop, Alek was fortunate enough to have arrived right as a bus pulled up. As the doors opened, she climbed on in only to see more than a dozen people occupying the seats.

“Where to”, a voice called out causing her to snap her head towards the direction the voice came from. Her eyes stumbled across the face that went with the voice, recognizing them as the bus driver.

Pulling a five dollar bill out from her right back pocket, Alek handed it to the burly looking man. “Virginia”, she said but she could tell that wasn’t enough from the look on that of the man now holding her once five dollar bill. Swallowing hard, she set her shoulders back while looking the driver in the eyes with a look that could only be described as blank. Though it was hard to tell as her eyes were covered by that of a baseball cap but that didn’t matter as she finished her sentence, “Quantico, Virginia”.

Just as she had uttered her sole destination, the driver closed the doors and started driving again. Seeing that almost all of the seats were taken, Alek ended up heading towards the back and taking a seat that was up against the window. As soon as she sat down she closed her eyes, taking a second to just relax and let everything soak in.

It wasn’t that she was feeling overwhelmed it was just the fact that she still wasn’t use to this life. The life of an everyday normal United States citizen, where people have real 9 to 5 jobs and don’t have to worry about the enemy. Overall, it was too much sensory overload for her body, it wasn’t just the change in environment but the people along with it. Going about their day as if everything was fine and dandy, they had families that they could go home to, people that would miss them.

Just thinking about it she got a little jealous, it was an emotion that Alek haven’t experienced that much in her life until she moved to the D.C. area. Trying to shake it out of her body, she opened her eyes and scoped around the bus. Casting her eyes to the left of her she could see that there was a middle aged man who kept tapping his foot on the floor of the bus.

By the looks of it, he had just gotten off work as he was covered in a grey tailored suit with his briefcase resting at his feet. To everyone else he might look well off that of a wealthy man and he probably was. But upon seeing his left ring finger Alek seemed to notice that there was a slight tan line accompanying it. That in and of itself was enough to tell her that he use to probably be wealthy, but all his wealth was taken away in the divorce.

Hence the tailored suit, the leather oxfords obtaining his feet, the bright silver diamond watch on the inside of his left wrist, along with his sleek black suede briefcase. It seemed that whomever he was married to, had gotten to keep everything including his car because it wasn’t everyday you saw a man like that on a bus like the one both the man and Alek were occupying.

Having glanced at the man long enough, she turned her attention back towards the window that occupied the right side of her body. She sighed as she watched the streets of D.C. wiz on by, though it turned into a blur as she was now lost in thought. She hadn’t even realized what was going on until the bus stopped and out yelled the bus driver, “we’re here”.

Slowly she lifted her head, expecting to be met with many faces only to be met with one and that being the driver of the bus. Getting up, she made her way to the front, thanking the burly looking man as she made her way down the steps and out into the crisp cold air. Taking a deep breath, she looked at her watch for the third time only to see it was closer to eight pm than it was to seven. Wow, a total of about two hours and she still didn’t even realized how long she had been on that bus for.

Pulling her denim jacket tighter around her body, Alek started her journey to her now almost reached destination. It took about 15 minutes to arrive, but once she had she couldn’t pull the door open any sooner. Stepping into the building she was met with warmth, the one thing her body had been lacking all day. Making her way towards the elevator she was quickly stopped short, “excuse me miss, but where are you going”.

Pivoting on a foot of hers, she looked at the woman who stopped her. “I was told to just make my way up, I’m here for a meeting”, Alek lied to the woman in front of her causing the unknown woman to bunch her eyebrows in confusion.

“Meeting with who? Im sorry but that can’t be visiting hours are over”, the small statute of the woman was now just getting on Aleks’ nerves.

Hearing the elevators open Alek started to walk backwards towards them. “My meeting”, Alek said just before taking a step back into the elevator, “is with SES Erin Strauss”. With that, she watched as the other woman’s face turned bright red. Whether it was from the fact that Alek was now standing in the elevator or the fact that Alek had a meeting with Strauss, she had no idea. And she didn’t stick around to find out as the elevator doors closed and she was now headed up towards the floor of the BAU.

Honestly, she couldn’t remember the last time she was in the FBI headquarters, but she knew that it was long ago. If her memory serves her right she hadn’t stepped foot in the building since she was in middle school. All in all it’s been almost two whole decades since Alek has seen the inside of the building and she wasn’t unhappy about it either. Before she knew it the doors to the elevator slid back open and she was now one step closer to her destination.

Walking towards the glass doors that led to the bullpen of the BAU, Alek swung it open only to be greeted by the stares of strangers. Minding no business to it, she continued her journey up the steps of the bullpen and walked down one of the long corridors that led to Strauss’ office. Stopping in front of her office, Alek raised her hand and knocked on the door lightly only to be met with a, “Come in”.

Opening the door, she shoved her body into Strauss’ office. As she was now in, Alek watched as Strauss looked up from her paperwork and pointed to the door behind Alek, “please shut the door and take a seat”.

Doing as told, she shut the door and sat herself down in one of the chairs opposite of the SES herself. “So to what do I owe the pleasure of you being here”, Alek could just see the cocky smirk Strauss had on her face the moment she got done asking Alek that question.

Shrugging her shoulders, Alek clasped her hands in front of her. “I don’t know, you tell me”, she wasn’t going to play Strauss’ game if that’s what she thought, “first the phone calls now the suv, what do you want from me Strauss”.

Taking her reading glasses off, the once cocky smirk on the SES’ face was now wiped off clean. “I didn’t want it to go that far, but how else was I suppose to get your attention? I tried calling bu-“.

Right as Erin mentioned the phone calls Alek cut her off, “The phone calls should have been enough of a clue that I didn’t want to talk, that I just wanted to be left alone”.

“Well you should have known that I wouldn’t stop just there”, by now Strauss had a pointed look on her face her eyebrows raised all the way to her hairline. Both of the woman were now just staring each other down while sitting in silence until Strauss let out a deep breath and continued from where she left off, “I want you to join the team”.

Shocked would be a pathetic word to describe the emotion that passed over Alek. She was more so bewildered, why on earth would Strauss say such a thing. “What, why”, where the only words that Alek could get out of her mouth at the moment.

“You’d be a great asset to the team, we could use someone like you especially with your background”, by now Alek still didn’t know how to process this all. As she still had yet to say anything Strauss decided it would be best to ask the woman opposite of her a question, “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it?”

The moment that question left her mouth, Alek was all too quick to respond, “I haven’t”. That seemed to shut the SES right up as she now looked flabbergasted. Shaking her head Alek stood up, her heart was racing through her chest almost caught in her throat, “I can’t do this”. Making her way towards the office door, Alek ended up practically slamming it open and hurrying down the corridor as she could feel the walls closing in on her.

Just as she was about to step on the floor of the BAU bullpen Alek was pulled back into reality as the voice of the person she was just speaking with rung out behind her, “Miss. Vultaggio, I understand that you’re going through some things right now but please give it one day, that’s all I ask”.

At this point Alek was fuming with anger, clenching her fist so tight she cut off the blood circulation only to turn around looking SES Erin Strauss point blank in the eyes. “I mean no disrespect ma’am, but going through some things?”, Alek all but spat out at the woman. “You have no idea what I’ve been through, the things I’ve seen, the things I’ve....done”, Alek had uttered that last word with what some could think was disgust. At that Alek closed her eyes trying to calm herself down before opening them up again, now calm Alek took a deep breath, “But, I’ll think about it”.

With that, Alek didn’t have the time to see the look on Strauss’ face as she just wanted to get the hell out of there. Turning back around Alek made her way towards the doors of the BAU only to catch out of the corner of her eye the stares of four people.

From the looks on their faces it seemed clear to Alek that they had caught the conversation or I guess the banter she just had with Strauss and to say that they were pleased would be an understatement. They probably have never heard anyone talk to Erin that way before as she was their superior, one that they weren’t very pleased with.

Though just as Alek was about to turn her attention back to getting out of there, she ended up catching the eye of the youngest one in the group. She could feel him profiling her as soon as their eyes met, though he wouldn’t be able to profile much as he probably had no idea where to start. Having been through enough during the day, Alek ticked her jaw in agitation and set her eyes forward again just to walk out of the BAU and back into the elevator.

Looking at her watch for what should be the last time that day, Alek slightly chuckled under her breath. How wrong she was about the time she would make it back to her apartment only just seemed to annoy her more than ever.

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dramaticviolincrescendo · 4 years

Note

How would describe shameless to someone who never heard of it? How would you describe the specific characters?

I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve these super fun asks, but thank you so much! :D It’s funny that you sent this because I did actually describe the show to someone not too long ago, and I didn’t like how I did it in hindsight. I felt like I didn’t do it enough justice. So, I get a second chance to try again!

“How would you describe Shameless to someone who never heard of it?”

Shameless is a show about how life doesn’t always go our way, we don’t always do the right thing, and we’re all imperfect beings—but we still deserve a chance regardless. The Gallaghers begin the series nearly at rock bottom, doing anything they have to for their literal survival, but also to keep their family together. Sometimes that means supporting each other when they’re in a difficult spot, banding together to help their neglectful father even though he doesn’t deserve it, or even committing petty crimes to sustain their meager way of life. As they get older and have more agency in and control over their lives, the nature of their problems shifts, and they learn from their own mistakes rather than reacting to their parents’. The same trends unfold for the people and families in their orbit, showing that various trials and tribulations can impact anyone of any social standing. Not everyone gets a happy ending; not everyone gets what they want. However, they grow and learn how to manage both the hand that they’ve been dealt as well as the bed they’ve made for themselves. That, after all, is life.

Shameless is a “dramedy” where the comedy elements utilize primarily satire, which sets it apart from the popularity of slapstick and dry comedies over the last decade. By nature, the show therefore addresses difficult, uncomfortable, and controversial topics in manners and utilizing methods that are designed to make us laugh at the absurdity while forcing us to think about these topics in ways that we may have avoided otherwise. This format has been established since the pilot episode and certainly is not to everyone’s taste. I wouldn’t recommend this show to anyone who prefers that such issues be addressed with a deeper analysis on the part of the characters rather than the audience, which is the general tendency in drama pieces rather than shows of this genre.

“How would you describe the specific characters?”

For this, I’ll focus on the main Gallagher family, Kev, V, and Mickey, as they’ve been the constant presences on the show since the start. I’ll also keep it relatively short since I could write essays on each one, and that would bore anyone who hasn’t heard of Shameless (and 95% of those who have) to tears.

1. Frank Gallagher is the stereotypical “deadbeat” who plays the system for every penny so that he doesn’t have to work, choosing to fund his addictions rather than support his family. He will go to any lengths if it means preserving this lifestyle—mild, absurd, and even heinous. He functions as something of an anti-hero, being more a threat to the family’s stability in early seasons than a boon and gradually sinking into obscurity because of his children’s growing indifference as he burns one bridge after another with them. Frank prides himself on espousing only the values that will get him what he wants in a given circumstance. In specific instances, that has meant showing a measure of love and affection for his children that evidence has proven exists deep, deep below the surface. In others, he’s a wild card. Frank’s various fatal flaws have included arrogance, addiction, selfishness, and an avoidance of any and all responsibility.

2. Fiona Gallagher is the eldest and began the series as the rock of the family because, to put it simply, she was the only person able to do it. She selflessly cared for her younger siblings so that they wouldn’t be scattered into foster homes or adoption thanks to her parents’ neglect, even to the point where she gave up portions of her life and blurred the lines between her roles as sister versus caregiver, which became a sticking point in later seasons when her siblings didn’t need or want a mother-figure anymore. While Fiona was initially very responsible with regards to raising her siblings, she therefore sacrificed a lot of opportunities that were important for her development as a young adult and exhibited an immaturity typical of people her age that impacted other arenas of her life, especially relationships. As her role as caregiver dwindled, that immaturity and the norms prevalent in her environment became more pronounced with her newfound freedom, and she struggled greatly in the face of what she viewed as making up for lost time. Fiona’s various fatal flaws have included ambition, a “martyr complex,” and viewing her family as an impediment to her ambitions later in life instead of a support system.

3. Lip Gallagher is the oldest son. He began the series with a hefty chip on his shoulder. Intelligent, quick-witted, and calculating, Lip was constantly referred to as a sort of diamond in the rough and clearly came to believe it. This led to a very fascinating dynamic within the family and his other interpersonal relationships as his love for and desire to protect his family was balanced by a sense that his way was the best way—the only way, really. A combination of poor choices and unfortunate circumstances beyond his control resulted in a very real “fall from grace,” by South Side standards, and Lip has worked hard to claw his way back from where he was in the middle of the series. Where Fiona spiraled further as she withdrew from her family, Lip leaned on them and others in his support system—and it saved him. Lip’s various fatal flaws have included arrogance, contempt for power structures in which he is not at the top, and trying to solve other people’s problems at the expense of dealing with his own.

4. Ian Gallagher is the middle child and something of an outlier in his own right where his family is concerned. He began the series seeming to have his shit together: he balanced school, ROTC, and work, excelling in all three at just fifteen years old. He was plagued by his status in the family at times, not old enough to have more control over his situation while not young enough to shrug off a lot of it on Fiona and Lip, and wanted something for himself more than anything. It’s that combination that put him in an extremely vulnerable position, because while he was the picture of responsibility and didn’t orchestrate as many scams as his siblings (though he was involved in plenty—he is South Side and a Gallagher, after all), it gave him—and his family—the false impression that he was more mature and in control than he was. Multiple older men preyed on him because of that, and in his thirst to find something that was solely his and someone he could care for outside his household, he viewed them as relationships rather than abuse. Like Lip, Ian truly hit rock bottom in a different manner, although the causes of his descent were more heavily skewed beyond his control. In true Ian form, however, he remains driven to find the straight and narrow—and stick to it as much as he can. Ian’s various fatal flaws have included ambition, a “hero complex,” compartmentalizing to the point of narrowmindedness or naïveté, and ignoring his own needs in pursuit of fulfilling others’.

5. Debbie Gallagher is similar to Lip in that she has always been clever, cunning, and driven to get what she wants. Debbie began the series in a difficult position, going to school and contributing to the household while ultimately not in control of anything that was going on. From the start, all she wanted was a functional family, and it colored her behavior throughout the first six seasons of the show. In many cases, that meant doing whatever she could to hold everyone together: investigating Fiona’s lying boyfriend, running a daycare so that Fiona could work all night and still find time to sleep, prompting Fiona to more actively worry when Ian ran away and helping Lip locate him, and caring for Liam a lot of the time while he was a baby. Over the years, as the dysfunctions racked up, she sought an escape through boyfriends and a baby of her own. The means by which she attempted and ultimately failed to achieve these goals were at times reprehensible and spurred on by both her immature ignorance and the culture in which she was raised. Debbie’s various fatal flaws have included self-centeredness, envy, manipulative tendencies, and not thinking or caring about the implications and consequences of her actions for herself or the people involved.

6. Carl Gallagher began the series as a real mess. The word “sociopath” comes to mind. He was the stereotypical “wild child” whose behavior embodied the dysfunctional nature of the family and their environment. He destroyed toys for fun, tortured animals, physically bullied children at school, and was held back multiple times for poor academic performance. Carl was never as academically bright as the other Gallagher siblings, but his street smarts were nigh unparalleled and, like Lip, he could probably survive anywhere. Over time, Carl underwent a remarkable transformation: embracing the negative stereotypes of his environment, he dove towards rock bottom with gusto only to realize that the thug life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Once again, he paralleled Lip and Ian’s trajectory in leaning on his family when it became too much, and he’s turned his entire life in the opposite direction to pursue a path that he hopes will lead to helping people rather than hurting them for his own gain or reputation. Carl’s various fatal flaws have included lack of foresight, a penchant for violence, and ignorance.

7. Liam Gallagher is still very young and therefore tougher to fully characterize as his development isn’t as extensive. Right now, he’s the same age Debbie was when the show began, and we’ve seen just how far she’s come. So, for the time being, Liam is extremely bright and has grown up with a great deal more privilege than his siblings. He doesn’t remember saving for the squirrel fund with fears of not being able to eat all winter in mind. He doesn’t remember what it’s like to worry about Frank or Monica’s actions having an enormous and lasting impact on them. He doesn’t remember Lip dropping out of school and moving out of the house, Monica’s actions at Thanksgiving, Fiona crying over crumpled bills from working at the sport bar, Ian going missing for four months and coming home a different person, or Debbie lying about Patrick just so they could keep a roof over their heads. Liam didn’t grow up with those things, and so he has the luxury of being a kid a bit more of the time. However, because his parents aren’t around and Fiona left the house a long time ago despite being his guardian, he has matured quickly in lieu of any real supervision.

8. Kevin Ball and Veronica Fisher have been the Gallaghers’ closest allies in the neighborhood all this time. Kevin isn’t the brightest academically or in terms of common sense, but he has a good heart and makes the best decisions when he uses it. He has been through a lot, between foster care as a kid, a crazy ex-wife, trying to keep the Alibi afloat, and raising twin daughters that they definitely didn’t have the means for when they discovered that they were expecting two kids. And Veronica… Well, she’s quite literally his other half. She’s savvy and smart, intelligent and assertive—they complete each other. They began the series as an established couple experiencing some growing pains, especially when Veronica was giving the Gallaghers everything from use of their shower to their toaster while Kevin insisted that they needed to focus on themselves before they could help Frank’s kids. (He talked a good game, but when the chips are down, Kevin has always been there for them too.) They’re good people who’ve been given a few bad shakes and taken a few wrong turns, but their love for each other, their kids, and the Gallaghers has made them a surprisingly strong heart of the show. Kevin’s various fatal flaws have included lack of foresight, ignorance, and not standing up for himself. Veronica’s various fatal flaws have included avoiding communication about her feelings and indecisiveness.

9. Mickey Milkovich is the stereotypical personification of their environment. He began the series as a poor thug—and a dirty one, at that—who exuded such a presence in the neighborhood that he instilled fear at a mere glance. His family functioned as a foil to the Gallaghers, perhaps what they would have been if Frank had been a different person or they’d fallen even further. Mickey didn’t benefit from an emotionally supportive family that banded together to provide for more than merely monetary concerns, not to mention that his father was openly and violently homophobic, so it took a great deal of time and overcoming numerous internal and external hardships for him to come to terms with who he is on many levels. Over the years, Mickey was self-employed or acted with his family as a drug dealer, a pimp, and a prison hitman; worked for a drug cartel; and has engaged in any number of other scams and illegal activities in order to make ends meet—and he has been quite happy to keep doing so as it plays to his strengths. Mickey is remarkable, however, because he has always been a multifaceted character whose problematic decisions, abrasive mannerisms, and questionable lifestyle didn’t and don’t negate that he cares very deeply and will do literally anything for the few people he allows to get close to him, specifically Ian. Mickey’s various fatal flaws have included lack of foresight, avoiding communication about his feelings, and not reaching out for help when he needs it.

~*~

That was quite a bit longer than I initially intended, but I had a great time putting this together. Thank you again for the ask!

#shameless us #gallaghers #you asked #this was so fun #shameless #shameless meta

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vivi-the-sky-kid · 3 years

Text

Sowing the Seeds (of Love), Chapter 3

Aka the Resh/OC Fix-It Fic Nobody Asked for but I'm Inflicting on All of You Anyways as Punishment for Kai's Your Hubris

The King has always been a mysterious figure in the annals of the Sky Kingdom's history, generating both awe and fear within the hearts of the sky spirits. Few can claim to have met them in person; certainly not Tav, a researcher of light creatures for the Vault of Knowledge. But when they discover their research may be used to harm the very creatures they know and love, Tav knows they cannot allow this to happen.

Somehow, they must change the King's mind. If that means throwing butterflies at their royal face, then so be it.

-<◇>-

Warnings: Will be added to each chapter when necessary, but there's not gonna be anything graphic in this (do send me an ask if you think there's something I should warn about tho)

Rating: T (just to be on the safe side)

Pairing(s): Resh/OC

Tag(s): Enemies to Lovers, Fake Dating, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies

Additional Tag(s): Resh and Alef are twins, Resh and Tav are both nonbinary, Resh uses he/they, Tav uses she/they, Resh is demiromantic and pansexual, Tav is biromantic and demisexual, no beta we die like moths in eden

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

-<◇>-

Chapter 3

Word Count: 2755

Warning(s): Ayin needs a hug :(

-<◇>-

“So I hear you've been working with the butterflies, Resh?”

Resh scoffed as they dressed for the day, slinging their cape over their shoulders with one swift, fluid motion. “You can hardly call it work when the damn creatures don't do anything but avoid me. I never should have agreed to this. I can feel Alef laughing at me from here. And the worst part? They'd know if I wasn't trying. He'd feel it.”

He lowered the pizaine around his head, adjusting the cape once it was settled. Their spear followed next. Then Resh picked up their mask, turning it this way and that in their hands before affixing it to their face. Ayin eyed it, their smile more of a grimace at the sight.

“Why not try without your mask? Butterflies can be rather skittish. Something like that must be quite frightening to them.”

“It's a mask. Why would they be scared of that? I'd expect them to fear my spear more.”

Ayin winced. Butterflies were small and quick. A spear was no threat to them, unless the wielder happened to get very, very lucky. On the other hand, a glint of light off that mask's diamond-shaped crest would be more than enough to spook them, especially when it was attached to such a tall figure. But if Resh wouldn't listen to reason...

“It was merely a suggestion...”

They quietly left and went to the central chamber, where the pots of collected light were taken before being shipped out. While pots made it far easier to send light to places like Hidden Forest and the Golden Land, it also simulated the same conditions that allowed butterflies to spontaneously spawn, and so time was of the essence when it came to these shipments.

They wondered if Resh remembered that. It had been so long ago, but Ayin could still recall with great clarity the wide-eyed awe on both Resh and Alef's faces when they were taught about the butterflies and the pots.

A better time, to be sure. Before the Trials. Before the Kingdom. Before all this nonsense with Dark Matter.

Before their growing sleepiness meant that more and more shipments were too late to be useful.

Ayin shook their head and held out a finger. In mere moments, a butterfly flew in and landed, glowing a vibrant magenta as it shared its light with the Elder. They brought it close to their face and whispered, then gently sent it on its way.

Maybe that would help matters.

-<◇>-

Sneaking out of Kumibir's house in the wee hours of the morning was not something Tav ever expected to do; then again, neither was trying to convince a government official to care about light creatures. Despite this, they somehow managed to get not only themself, but the spare light staff and some food, out without detection. It was easier than dealing with eir smug looks over breakfast. They could eat somewhere private and peaceful before dealing with the inevitable. Somewhere like Bird's Nest.

Yes, Bird's Nest was perfect.

As she rounded the hill leading to the nearest dock, two people came into view. One was immediately recognizable as the King's Will. The other was a spirit who acted as the grandparent of everyone in this village. While Tav had never spoken with them, seeing as they were typically away tending to the cattle of the Prairie, they had heard much and more about their charming ways from Kumibir. That included their tendency to ensure everyone around them was well-fed.

Apparently, they did not stop at locals.

“...been feeding you in Eden? You're so gaunt! A soldier like you needs to eat plenty more if you're gonna be protecting our people, doncha know?” the spirit said, lightly bopping their hand against the Will's chest.

“Believe me, I am getting enough nourishment to keep me active. There is no need for concern,” came his strained reply.

Tav snickered and walked closer. As they approached, they called out, “Good morning!” grinning with vengeful delight. The Will moved towards her hastily and fell into step beside her.

“There you are, my dear. I've been waiting for you,” they said, moving to wrap an arm around their shoulders. The gesture caught the cowherd's attention, and they turned their stern gaze on Tav.

“Are you this soldier's partner?”

She glanced up at the Will, who shot her a pointed look, then shrugged. “More or less...”

“Then you better make sure they get fed! Whatever they're feeding 'em up in Eden, it's not enough! Look at 'em! Why, I oughta march up there myself and tell your commander off for not taking care of their troops...”

Tav held back a sigh and gave them a reassuring smile. “I'll keep them fed, don't you worry.”

“Good! That's what I like to hear!” With that, they nodded and left, muttering under their breath.

As they waved the spirit farewell, Tav eyed the Will's gray skin out of the corner of their eye. "They're right, you know. You don't exactly look the picture of health."

"Why, are you worried about me, my dear? How sweet."

Any concern they had—which was none! No concern here—melted away at the smug tone in the Will's voice. Tav scowled and folded their arms in front of them. "No, I would just prefer to not have you drop dead on me, darling. That's all."

It would be hard to explain a government official dying during what should have been a peaceful trip. That was all. That was the only reason she cared—not that she did. The Will was their enemy right now, and enemies didn't deserve any concern.

"You have nothing to worry about on that front. I'll get plenty of nourishment, I assure you," he said, waving a hand carelessly through the air.

Tav raised one eyebrow and rested a hand on their hip. "And what exactly are you going to eat? Grass? Air? Sunlight?"

The Will twitched and drew their cape closer about their body at that last suggestion. He turned away, avoiding Tav's sharp gaze, before letting out a sigh. "If you really must know, all I need to survive is heat. While I can eat food, it is not necessary for me."

"Really?" she hummed curiously, before shaking her head and turning away. Now was not the time to get distracted by scientific pursuits. They needed to focus. The light creatures were counting on them.

"Come on. The butterflies don't have all day."

-<◇>-

Whether today was better or worse, Tav couldn't say. On the one hand, the butterflies were willing to go closer to the Will. On the other hand, they would still shy away from him once they got too close. Quite frankly, no matter how cute the butterflies were, if they had to spend one more day in these meadows, they might scream.

And yet, just when they were truly contemplating giving up...

“You could try removing that mask. The butterflies get skittish around so much cold metal,” a soft voice piped up. The two of them turned away from their unsuccessful attempts to get a butterfly near the Will and saw a plump spirit in a yellow cape approach from the butterfly sphere. At the Will's suspicious glare, they wrung their hands. “They prefer warmer materials, like flowers or sunsteel. I'm afraid the cold metal of your mask isn't very pleasant to them.”

“And you are...?”

“Ah, my name is Degamuc, but my friends like to call me the 'butterfly charmer,'” they replied, rubbing the back of their head with a bashful smile. “Elder Ayin has entrusted me with caring for the butterflies here, and I couldn't help but notice you two were having trouble with the little ones. You could always try taking my advice.”

The Will huffed a sigh, and they flinched.

“It was just a suggestion, though...” they said, voice falling.

The Will stiffened and turned away. They stayed that way for a few moments, then, with another sigh, reached up and removed their mask. Without anything to hold it back, some of his hair fluttered into his face, almost like a replacement for the mask. Still, it wasn't enough to hide that they looked... rather nice. Their square jaw contrasted well with their hair, and if it weren't for the scowl and unsettling gray skin, she'd almost say they were handsome.

Almost.

-<◇>-

Tav had been staring at them for some time now, ever since they removed the mask. Their own mask made it hard to tell what their expression was, but they hadn't blinked in a while. It was rather disconcerting.

He didn't like it.

Resh folded their arms before them, raising an eyebrow in Tav's direction. “What are you gawking at?”

His voice broke through whatever strange thoughts they were having, and they jumped, before crossing their arms stiffly and turning away.

“Y-You look better with the mask on.”

They blinked, the cogs in their head whirling, then looked at Tav in offense. “What is that supposed to me—?”

Just then, a butterfly landed on the tip of Resh's nose, cutting their words off. His eyes crossed trying to focus on it, its pink wings a stark contrast against the blue and white of the sky. A snort nearby startled them ever so slightly. The source? Tav themself, a hand over their mouth to stifle any sounds.

He shot them a glare, and despite the hand, laughter bubbled up from their mouth. Even that butterfly charmer giggled. Despite themself, Resh could feel a blush taking shape above their cheeks; thankfully, it was hidden by the butterfly's magenta wings.

“What's so funny?”

Tav was too busy laughing their head off to answer, but the butterfly charmer had enough of their senses left to say, eyes crinkled with delight, “The butterfly's giving you a little kiss!”

Resh froze. Someone had... said something like that long ago...

Someone once very dear to him...

-<◇>-

Within the Prairie temple, three figures were gathered in the central processing area. Ayin's shrine, its eyes glowing golden and its candles lit, watched benevolently over both the Elder it belonged to and a pair of children—twins, it seemed—alongside them. Ayin gestured the children towards a smaller pot with orange cloth covering its mouth.

“Now, children, these are the pots we use to send light to the Hidden Forest. It's very important that we send these out as soon as we can, because otherwise, butterflies will start to form from the light within. This one has been left a bit too long, you see, so if we open it up...”

With a small puff of flame from their palm, they removed the film covering the mouth of the pot, and a stream of butterflies burst out. The air tinkled like a wind chime as the flurry dissipated, and while most left the temple to seek the sun outside, a few lingered behind. Soft chimes and squeaks echoed in the temple, followed by the twins' soft gasps. Some landed on Ayin's shoulders. Others remained airborne, their golden wings glowing in light from above. One spiraled downwards before landing on the tip of Resh's nose and turning a deep pink.

“Oh, look at that! The butterfly is giving you a little kiss, Resh,” Ayin said, clasping their hands before their chest as their eyes crinkled. Alef snickered, and Resh frowned and wiggled their head, trying to shake off the butterfly. It was a stubborn little thing, however, and at the end, Resh was swaying dizzily and the butterfly was squeaking in triumph—or, perhaps, because it wanted to.

Alef's snickering had shifted to full-blown laughter by then. Thankfully, the butterfly's luminous pink wings hid the blush on Resh's face, but they couldn't hide the way their skin glowed where the butterfly made contact.

It certainly hadn't escaped Ayin's notice.

Their smile was a little strained this time as they put their hands behind the twins and gently urged them along.

“Come, children. We should take these little ones outside, where they'll be happier.”

“Yes, Ayin,” they said in unison. Together, the three of them, as well as the swarm of butterflies, left the Temple for the inviting sunshine of the Prairie.

-<◇>-

“Resh? Are you okay?”

The unfamiliar tone to Tav's voice brought Resh back from their reverie. They were holding his mask now. Had he dropped it during his bout of reminiscence? How nice of her to retrieve it for them.

But now there was something else on their face. Something that did not belong there. His movements slow and steady, he carefully guided a finger beneath the butterfly's rhomboid body and lifted it from his face.

“These butterflies... they came from a late shipment of light, correct?” There was no malice in their expression or their voice as they spoke, watching the butterfly slowly move its wings.

“Ah, um, I believe so. Elder Ayin wishes for us to release them when a shipment is rendered unusable, and many make their way here because of the flowers,” Degamuc said, wringing their hands again.

“As I thought... Ayin has always been soft like that,” Resh said. With a gentle flick of their wrist, the butterfly was sent back into the air. Another was quick to take their place, however, and then another. Soon they had a small, squeaking swarm of butterflies perched on their hands and arms.

Degamuc's eyes closed in a smile as they clapped their hands together.

“Well, it seems you two don't need my help anymore. I'll leave you two to your date.”

Tav nodded as they left, and then did a double take. Unfortunately for her, she was too late to protest. Instead, their hand was left suspended, reaching out for the butterfly charmer's receding back, and soon fell back to their side as they slumped forward. Throughout it all, the mask remained clutched firmly in one hand.

Resh couldn't help the grin that formed. So much drama in such a small frame. Where did it come from?

She seemed to sense their amusement, because she turned to look at them with a halfhearted glare. They folded their arms in front of them and said, with a grumble, “What? You got something to say?”

His grin turned mischievous.

“Were you worried for me, my dear?”

They stiffened and turned away. “What? No! I was just... wondering if you hit your head on something. You started acting weird.”

Resh chuckled and shook their head, looking out over the multicolored field. A butterfly drifted past his vision, the faintest sparkle falling from its wings. When they held out a finger, its body briefly turning into a streak of light as it zoomed to the new perch.

“No, no. I merely remembered something from... a long time ago.”

He laughed at you.

A scowl formed on their face, and they shook off the butterfly. He turned to face Tav once more. They eyed him with a suspicious squint, then shrugged, sunlight glinting off the silvery diamond crest of his mask with the motion.

“Well, I'd say we're done for today. I'll see you tomorrow morning, darling,” she said, waving the mask curtly.

“I'll be up bright and early, don't you fret, my dear.” They kept their gaze on their mask, raising an eyebrow. “But for now, may I have my mask back?”

They looked at the mask, blinked like they had forgotten it was in their hand, and then took hold of their chin. The sun crept lower in the sky as they thought it over, before finally saying, “Mm... No.”

Resh did a double take, mouth agape, and they grinned impishly, placing their hands on their hips.

“You won't need it for what we'll be doing tomorrow,” Tav said. They began walking away towards the nearby pier, leaving Resh to stare after them incredulously.

“And what, exactly, will we be doing tomorrow?”

“You'll see~” they sang out, waving jauntily as they left.

Resh grumbled softly. Then, despite themself, felt the corner of their mouth tug upwards.

Very well. If that was how Tav wanted to play, then so be it.

-<◇>-

Ayin blinked. They glanced down at their hands and flexed them, fingers tingling ever so slightly with newfound energy. It was... unfortunately unfamiliar. They couldn't remember the last time they had felt like this.

A butterfly swirled around them and perched delicately on their mask's pot-like frame. Its squeaking cry brought a smile to their face. Their plan had worked.

High above, their constellation twinkled a little brighter, a little more golden.

-<◇>-

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

#sky children of the light #sky #sky king #resh #resh my beloved /j #fun fact: all the character names in this are either hebrew letters or randomly generated names taken from friends i make in sky #and hey we're a quarter of the way done #also if you have any questions about story details feel free to ask about them #i will gladly share what i can with you

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