#and monk pulls out a list and starts naming them

[mr-stottlemonk]

suspect: scared? man, how many other things are you scared of?

monk: well (starts listing)

stottlemeyer @ the suspect: well, we're gonna be here for a while, coffee?

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

The Silver Dragon (29/?)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Word Count: 2730

Story Summary: Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, the Lady of Runestone, was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge.

Ignored by her father, and alone following the death of her mother, she is raised in King’s Landing alongside her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen. As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. But their lives are far from the fairy tales they read, and as tensions in the family rise, they find their paths may diverge.

Will they be pulled apart when the dragons dance?

Chapter Summary: Aemond and Arianwyn relax with a shared bath after their dragonflight.

Warnings: Allusions to sex.

Author's Note: Hope y'all enjoyed a little more fluff! It's come to my attention that all the sweet, happy chapters are making y'all worry about what may be coming next. Now, I certainly have no clue where you would get such an idea….

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @thelittleswanao3 @trap-house-homiecide @50svibes @literishdegree99 @dc-marvel-girl96 @henriettadreaming @multiple-fandoms-girl @gyuxmilk @somemydayy @kittykylax @whore-of-many-hot-men

(Please let me know if your tag isn't working, and I'll do my best to correct it! And if you would like to be added to the list, just shoot me an ask!)

The Bath

Emrys groaned with disappointment when Arianwyn turned him back to the city, while Aemond and Vhagar descended back to the Tourney Grounds. He wanted to stay with his new companion and continue to learn from her.

He had learned from her on their flight. Or at least, he tried to.

Vhagar was desperate for him to fly upside down with her, but he got nervous every time he tilted too far and began to lose altitude. She demonstrated how to keep airborne for so long that Aemond had nearly gotten sick, but he still never quite caught on.

The dragons had only stopped their nearly nauseating attempts when their riders assured them they would fly together again many times.

But even now, Emrys grumbled, not wanting to leave Vhagar behind.

“Ziry iksos tolī uēpa naejot deal rūsīr ao syt tolī bōsa,” Arianwyn chided. “Ivestragī zirȳla ēdrugon.” She is too old to deal with you for too long. Let her rest.

Vhagar was, indeed, a century and a half older than him. There could be no doubt that his boundless energy would, at some point, start to grate on her. It was better to keep their meetings short until the Queen of the Dragons was used to her new friend: “Byka ossȳngnon,” as Aemond named him that afternoon. The Little Dread.

Emrys shivered, purposefully tossing her about in her saddle in protest. But his rider was not swayed.

Arianwyn rolled her eyes as she guided him down to the Dragonpit. “Emā naejot return naejot Dreamfyre, se ivestragon zirȳla nūmāzma mirre se kirimves ēdā.” You have to return to Dreamfyre and tell her about all the fun you had.

That, at least, seemed to sate him enough that he protested no further, landing in the courtyard of the Dragonpit without fuss. But when his rider dismounted, he let out a forlorn whimper.

“Kesan sagon arlī hemtubis, Emrys,” she assured him, with a final pat to the tip of his nose. “ Īlon kessa sōvegon lēda zirȳla arlī pār.” I will be back tomorrow. We shall fly with her again then.

He snorted against her palm. A question. “You promise?”

“Nyke kivio,” she replied. I promise.

With that, Emrys lazily blinked his bright blue eyes, telling her he loved her and would wait for her.

But as he turned back to the Dragonkeepers to follow them to his den, he made it quite clear that he would not wait patiently. He was already having fun with the monks, brushing his tail against their feet to make them stumble and trilling proudly when they did.

“Kesan ūndegon ao hemtubis! Syt sir, kesan sagon lēda ñuha valzȳrys – sepār se lanta hen īlva,” Arianwyn called back, not caring that the Dragonkeepers would hear her as well. I will see you tomorrow! For now, I will be with my husband - just the two of us.

She laughed as she heard a few novices gasp at her words but said nothing before getting back in her carriage.

Ser Warren Crayne raised a thick eyebrow as he held open the coach door. “Do I want to know what you just said?”

“I don’t believe you do, Ser,” she said with a mischievous grin.

The old man sighed, his black eyes twinkling as he shut the door and mounted his own horse. Once they were moving through the city streets, he turned to his partner for the day, the ever-morose Ser Sterlan Coldwater.

“We always knew she would be married someday,” he said, sounding for all the world like a father at wit’s end. “And I am glad that she has made a love match. Prince Aemond will treat her well. But… I don’t think I will ever get used to looking at her and seeing a woman – a wife –  rather than the sweet, innocent little girl we followed from the Vale.”

Ser Sterlan shook his head. “She hasn’t been that little girl for some time, Warren. And it’s a good thing. You saw her standing up to her father in the Throne Room and, just now, so confident on the back of that beast. So take heart in the fact that Rhea would be very proud of the woman she’s become.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Warren answered. “I never asked. What was the message she had you send back to the castle earlier?”

The smile on Sterlan’s face nearly matched that of his Lady. “I don’t believe you want to know that either, Ser.”

-

Aemond was not in the solar when Arianwyn arrived back at their quarters. But she didn’t have time to consider why, not when she was so taken by the room itself.

The bare walls and empty tables were no more.

Against the far wall was a massive tapestry, a relic of the First Men depicting the crowning of Yorwyck I, the first of the Bronze Kings. It had hung in Runestone for millennia, a tradition that Ser Gerold Royce had broken when he brought it to Arianwyn for her tenth nameday.

A massive new bookshelf had been brought in and stuffed full. But it had obviously not been enough, as two open chests, brimming with even more books, were set in the corner of the room.

And above the hearth, two bronze swords were newly mounted. A matched pair, with Runes engraved within the fullers. A small note hung from one of the hilts, tied with green ribbon.

As she looked around the room at each new addition, from an entire set of polished Bronze armor to a small, ordinary wooden trinket box, she realized they were all her things. Every gift she had ever received from Gerold and Aemond, everything she had ever owned – save for the few measly possessions that remained on Dragonstone – was here.

“I know we’ll have to pack it all up again when we go to Runestone,” Aemond mused from where he stood beneath the doorframe. He smiled as he removed his gloves, savoring the look of delight on his wife’s face. “But as long as we have to stay here while my mother plans her feasts and celebrations, I wanted it to feel like home.”

Arianwyn surged forward, leaping into his arms as she brought her lips to his. He kissed her back, wrapping his hands around her waist and laughing at her enthusiasm.

“You are my home, Aemond,” she said, “I don’t need anything else. Still, I appreciate the gesture.”

He blushed under her adoring gaze, then pulled her in to kiss her forehead. Even now, when he had seen every inch of her, that smile still threatened to overwhelm him. Perhaps she had somehow enchanted him, and that was why his knees felt weak every time she fixed him with those shining silver eyes.

But then she pulled out of his arms, only keeping their little fingers entwined as she led him to the bathing room. She was no witch; it was far simpler than that.

She was just perfect.

“I’m afraid I don’t remember your manservant’s name,” she whispered, sliding his coat off his shoulders. “I actually don’t know if he ever gave it. But I’ll have to thank him, he’s done a wonderful job. The water is still warm.”

Aemond glanced down at the large tub in the middle of the room. It was, in fact, filled with steaming water. The table beside it held all manner of soaps and oils – including many he did not recognize. Arianwyn’s, then.

“When did you arrange this?” he asked. She had been with him practically every moment since they woke, and he had watched as her carriage left the castle. When had she found the time?

She just smiled as she continued to undress him. “Ser Sterlan sent a raven from the Dragonpit while we were flying.”

“You had a raven sent?” Aemond asked in disbelief, raising his arms at her instruction so she could remove his shirt. “Just so there would be a bath ready when we returned?”

Her eyes danced with amusement as she busied herself with the laces of his trousers. When she finished, she hooked her thumbs in his waistband and looked back up at him, pouting with feigned disappointment. “Do you not want to take a bath with me?”

He tightened his lips as he stifled a smile, his long nose scrunching up as he did his best to look annoyed and grabbed her chin. “You are a wicked thing, little wife of mine.”

With a single tug on his trousers, pulling him closer to her, Arianwyn’s pout melted into a great smile. She wrapped a hand around his neck and brought him down for a kiss.

“I knew you would,” she whispered against him, trailing a finger down his bare chest. “Now, I certainly hope you can get my clothes off faster than you put them on. I don’t want the water to go cold.”

Aemond pressed his forehead to hers and obeyed without protest, ridding her of her armor so quickly that he snapped nearly every lace. By the time she was naked, only her left bracer remained intact.

“You have to stop tearing my clothes, or Brynna will want to have words with you,” she teased as she stepped into the tub, holding his outstretched hand for balance.

He gave a smug grin as he stepped in behind her, pressing a single kiss to the back of her neck before lowering them both down to recline against opposite sides of the tub. As he savored the feeling of the hot water against his skin, he decided that he, too, would have to thank Kiran for his excellent work.

“Then I suppose I should be grateful that she is currently confined to the Maester’s Tower,” he said, his eyes wandering from Arianwyn’s face to how her curls fell around her breasts.

She followed his gaze and splashed water into his face. “Don’t think that will keep you safe,” she taunted, “There is not a jailer in the world who could hold her, let alone poor Orwyle.”

“In my experience, Orwyle is a more than capable jailer,” he replied with latent annoyance.

“Well, he had to be strict with you,” she shot back, “to stop you from hurting yourself further!”

“And what would you know about it?” He asked as he reached a hand beneath the water to grip her ankle and pull her towards him.

She only giggled as she nestled herself between his legs, wrapping her own around his waist. “Orwyle told me!”

“When?”

“In his notes. The ones he put in your letters when he was writing for you,” Arianwyn explained, leaning back to grab a plush cloth and a small block of soap from the table beside them. But when she moved to start washing her husband, he wrapped a hand around her wrist to stop her.

“You and Orwyle were exchanging secret messages in my letters? Why?” He wasn’t sure whether to be angry or impressed and ended up confused.

Arianwyn tilted her head, amused by the bewildered expression on his face. It wasn’t often that she was able to keep a secret from him, even unintentionally. Part of her wanted to stay silent, to revel in this small power she held over him.

But she could never do that. Her soul had always been open to him, her entire being laid bare for him and him alone.

Besides, she had promised she would always be honest with him.

“It was only a few times,” she assured, running her fingers through his unbound hair. “And he never said much. He just didn’t want me to think him as dictatorial as you made him out to be.”

He leaned into her touch, releasing her wrist. “But he didn’t tell you how sick I really was? How long it actually took me to recover?”

“No,” she whispered, running the soapy cloth along his chest. “So, you cannot be angry with him about that. But I certainly can.”

“Don’t be,” he cupped her chin, bringing her eyes back to his face. “I’m fine now. I got better. See?”

He turned so that his scar faced her – for once, not afraid of it being seen.

Just as she bore her soul for him, he let her see every part of him. Without shame, for he knew she would never – could never – shy away from any of it.

-

They sat in the water in comfortable silence, taking turns washing each other between soft, languid kisses.

Arianwyn was deliriously happy, laying back against Aemond’s chest as he massaged hair soaps and oils into her scalp with his long, nimble fingers. It took all her effort to keep her eyes open, but she did.

She wanted to watch him. To see his sapphire reflect sunlight off the bathwater. To see the corners of his lips turn up ever so slightly each time she smiled or moaned at his delicate touches. To see the perpetual tightness of his jaw fade as he let himself relax entirely with her in his arms.

“I hope…” he whispered. Then he shut his mouth tight, sadness sweeping over his face as he shook his head.

“What is it, my love?” Arianwyn asked, reaching up to hold his face. But he turned away from her hand and withdrew his own from her hair.

He shook his head again. “It’s nothing, Aria.”

“Obviously, it’s not,” she countered, sitting up and turning around to face him. He didn’t even look at her, focusing instead on the ripples in the water until they stilled.

“I don’t want to upset you,” he whispered, holding out a hand to her. “Just lay back down. Let me finish washing your hair.”

“No!” she said, once again pouting. But this time, it was real. “Not until you tell me what you were going to say!”

He sighed, biting his lips as he considered how to say it. They had been having such a good day; he did want to ruin it. Finally, he just spat it out. “I was going to say that I hope our children have your hair.”

Arianwyn’s mouth fell open, her eyes wide. He was sure he had just ruined their day.

“Why would that ever upset me?” she asked, her voice impossibly soft. “Aemond, that’s lovely.”

He looked back at her, her sweet face crumpling with sadness. Gods forgive him. He had been so wrong.

“I just thought…” he stammered, surging forward to grab her shoulders and pull her into his chest.

“You think I don’t want to have children.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Yes, you idiot!” she cried, pushing on his shoulder. “Of course, I want to have children – your children. A whole army of them. I thought I made that clear last night.”

 “If it’s what we both want, why do we have to wait?” He smiled, despite her scowl, her words warming his heart. Then, needing to feel her against him, he drew her closer to his chest. “We could get started right here, right now.”

She could feel his growing arousal pressing against her, but she shook her head. “We have to wait because… because I am selfish,” she explained. “I want you all to myself, at least for a little while. I don’t want to share you with anyone, not even our children.”

Aemond leaned against her, the suds still in her hair tickling his skin. Hearing her say the words “our children” was practically divine. He cursed himself for doubting her and vowed he would not delay making amends. “Then I will gladly wait, and savor having you all to myself, as well.”

A smile returned to her face as he turned her around, laying her back against his chest to continue massaging the oils and soaps into her hair. Their sweet silence returned. They did not need words. Aemond apologized with every tender brush of his fingers, and she forgave him with a single, slow blink.

“I will pray that they have your hair,” he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.

She pushed back against his chest, savoring the closeness. “And I will pray that they have your eyes.”

“Then it is decided: your hair and my eyes,” he said as he lowered her into the water to rinse her beautiful curls. “I can hardly wait – but I will.”

Next Chapter

[redbullcateringfiction]

Chapter 5 -

Cantata

Arabella is the executive assistant for Mercedes Team Principal Toto Wolff. 10 years into her career, it looks like the tide is changing, and she's beginning to question her relationship with him. Is it something more, or nothing but an idea lingering in her head?

F/M, Fluff, Boss/Employee Relationship, Romance, Pining, Love, Slow Burn

Fifth chapter below the cut or click here for AO3

Click here for the previous chapter on Tumblr, and click here for a list of all chapters

(Total: 21735 words thus far)

Oh? The right time to use a lawyer? You little shit. I immediately went to block his number, but paused. God, maybe he was onto something. He’s right. I can’t talk about my life with anyone, and…would this contract guarantee that he couldn’t say anything? I need a lawyer to read over this contract with a lawyer. I stared at the screen without really doing anything. I felt a sudden tap on my shoulder, I looked over and saw a line of 10 or so engineers. “How’s it going, ATM?” James asked. As one of the trackside engineers, he had been one of those who gifted me the greatest gift any paddock regular can receive: A nickname. 

I suppose Toto and Bono had it easy since it really was just what they had always been called. It was, afterall, really just their names. My nickname was far less affectionate. Both representative of the way the engineers would jokingly ask me to sign off on the paychecks, since they believed I held so much power at Brackley I could do so, and of the way I was also notorious for standing right behind Toto ready to shuffle him off to his next engagement. ATM stood for “Assigned Toto Micromanager.” It did, however, make it impossible to tell over text if they were asking “at the moment” or simply calling me by name. ‘Bono is on the pit wall ATM.’ As in right now or are we just mocking me? Fuck. 

“Good, good. Let’s get the party started,” I smiled. One after another, they filtered through. Of course, at least one of them had forgotten some silly thing they couldn’t bring through customs, turning them into an international smuggler, and I into the negotiator. In many ways, this could easily be one of the silliest parts of my job. Kindly asking a customs agent to overlook the Schumacher memorabilia that brightly displayed “Marlboro” and thus consisted of cigarette advertisements was certainly not in the job description. 

“Now, why would you wear that shirt?” I asked as the offending engineer finally passed through customs.

“I didn’t know it would be a problem!” She answered, throwing up her hands.

“Well, now you do,” I replied, rolling my eyes. She looked tempted to throw me the bird. “Just throw on a sweatshirt.”

“Fine, fine,” She sighed, reaching into her bag and pulling out a sweater.

I put in my ear buds as the line finally came to a close, and I began to walk to the car. I quickly found my playlist. Unlike my father, I was not a fan of Bach, Mozart, or Schubert. Rather Ellington, Corea, and Monk graced my ears. It had pissed off my ex-boyfriend enough that he wrote a song about it. I wish though that listening to that song gave me the giggles rather than could send me into tears. Unfortunately, the song refused to leave me alone. It followed me into stores. It followed me into the paddock. It followed me into every single rewind playlist Spotify gives me every single year. No one allows me to forget that damn song. 

I ran to the car and climbed in, managing to wave down the driver. “Arabella Lazaar, right? Four seasons?” He asked. 

“Yes, yes. Thank you so much,” I answered. I quickly dialed down Toto.

“Hello?” He answered.

“I’m on my way. We have to remind the engineers about clothing requirements at customs again,” I sighed.

“Who was the offender this time?” He laughed.

“Sarah with a Schumacher Senior shirt,” I explained.

“What could be the problem-”

“Marlboro,” I interrupted.

“Ah. Got it. Well, send out the email tonight. Should I meet you in the lobby? I have you checked in already.”

“Already? Sure. I’ll be there in half an hour. Looks like traffic is a mess since everyone’s coming in for testing.”

“Not too bad, Ms. Lazaar. I can make it happen in twenty.”

“Then twenty! He says we can make it in twenty,” I explained to Toto. 

“Then twenty, I’ll see you here in twenty.” I could practically hear him smiling through the phone. “See you soon.”

“See you,” I answered. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” The driver answered. 

~

Cathal Lynch’s girlfriend accidentally revealed through new song

Cathal Lynch, lead singer of Irish pop-rock band Four Odd Bottles, has long kept his love life private. For the past 3 years he has referenced his girlfriend at shows and in interviews, but has never revealed her identity. Fan theories have suggested supermodels, ex-classmates, and that perhaps, she doesn’t even actually exist! However, the release of the band's newest song - 4th From the Gate - accidentally revealed her identity. 

Simple references such as “racing stars,” and “dry tires on a wet pavement,” implied to listeners that Lynch may be dating a member of the Formula 1 community. Fans further found that Cathal’s posts on Instagram seemed to be located near or close to locations where Formula 1 races had taken place. None of this directly pointed to the woman who inspires Cathal’s boisterous love songs. However, several final details collided in the perfect storm to reveal her identity.

At the recent Formula 1 Japanese Grand Prix, Lynch took a picture with now 6-time world champion  Lewis Hamilton. This picture, taken from within the garage, told many fans that Cathal Lynch was either a big fan of Mercedes-Petronas, or with the recent song, his girlfriend works for Mercedes. Fans recalled that earlier songs had referenced Cathal Lynch’s girlfriend’s long curly hair, her tanned skin, and even that she may be Dutch. In the background of this picture was Arabella Lazaar - Curly haired, medium skinned, Dutch executive assistant to Mercedes team principal Toto Wolff. 

This afternoon, Cathal Lynch half-confirmed this was a simple Instagram story that showed a long curly hair on his pillow captioned “Always leaving pieces of herself with me. Even the ones she knows I hate.” To many fans, this was all they needed to immediately determine Arabella Lazaar was the woman inspiring Cathal Lynch’s music for the past 3 years. 

Four Odd Bottle’s did not respond to our request for comment.

~

We arrived at the hotel after 10 minutes, on the dot. I thanked the driver and was sure to grab my bags that I had placed in the trunk. As soon as I walked in, Toto was practically waiting by the door. 

“Arabella, haven’t seen you in a while,” He joked. 

“Oh, those two hours must’ve been so tortuous for you,” I spoke, immediately catching myself on the basis it may have sounded just a little bit flirty. Toto didn’t seem to notice though and laughed. 

“You just know they were. Every single minute, I was thinking, oh, how will I know what I am going to do in the next 5 minutes? Oh right, she sent an email, and I am to do absolutely nothing until she tells me what to do.”

“I’m not that bad,” I defended myself.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” He smirked. “Let me take your bags.”

We started walking towards the elevator and he lead me to my room. “I’m right next door, so you can bother me first thing in the morning.”

“And you know I will,” I smiled, taking the key from his hand. “Has someone already checked over your room?”

“I did. I know how to look over my own room.”

“Surprising,” I sassed. I walked in and immediately went to shut the door, but toto caught it with his foot.

“Uh, sorry. Do you mind if I was to finish our earlier conversation?” He asked, sweetly offering me a smile. 

“Oh. Sure. It had already slipped my mind,” I poorly lied. It had stuck in my brain like a leech. “Did you want to step in?” Fuck, why did I say that?

“Sure, sure,” He answered, closing the door behind him. “I just wanted to apologize for interrupting your date last night. I had a few too many drinks at the event, and saw you…and I’m not sure. Something just came over me. And suddenly I recalled you heading up to the room, and I figured, why not just ask? It just wasn’t appropriate and I wanted to apologize.”

“Oh…um…no worries! It wasn’t a date,” I quickly deflected. Why did I say that? Why not just accept the apology? Klootzak. 

“It wasn’t?” Toto asked, seemingly just as surprised at my statement as me. “Oh, well good, I suppose. Not good. Just…yes, okay.”

“Yeah, I was just uh…meeting with my lawyer.”

“Your lawyer ?”

Yes, of course. That was somehow better. I’m planning on suing you, Toto Wolff.

“Just uh…with contract renewal coming up soon. He’s been my lawyer since the incident with Cathal,” I mumbled. I’m very bad at lying. “Just good to have someone on my side.”

“Oh, of course. Well, then, I’m deeply sorry for implying that you were on a date by asking if he was your boyfriend from the Christmas party,” Toto answered.

“Mauricio? No, uh, we split up shortly after that.” Please stop talking, Arabella. Why can’t I just shut up sometimes?

“That's right. Mauricio. I’m sorry about that, though.” Okay, Arabella, take a breath and think for a moment about how you’ll respond. 

“Ah, we weren’t that serious. I’m not bothered. What’s done is done,” I smiled. I do not have the heart nor emotional capacity to tell Toto that Mauricio and I dated for about 3 weeks and had already broken up when I made him come to the Christmas Party with me. I just didn’t want to look lonely. It was a nice deal though. As a massive fan of Lewis, he didn’t mind getting the opportunity to meet everyone on his team. When my ex-boyfriend and I had been together, I rarely let him come to events with me. Of course, the one time I did, all hell broke loose. That’s why I don’t date celebrities anymore. Unfortunately, it being the one time I brought someone with me to the Christmas Party, it had stuck in everyone’s brains and to this day people ask me if Mauricio and I are still together. 

“Regardless, Arabella. That was my point. I apologize,” He smiled. 

“I understand that, and I accept your apology. It really isn’t anything to apologize for though,” I explained. 

“Okay,” Toto sighed. “Can I make it up to you though?”

"Give me a day off, you mean?” I chuckled. 

“We both know you wouldn't accept that. But we have some free time tonight. In exchange for ruining your last dinner, I propose you at least let me buy you dinner. You don’t have to sit down with me or anything, but I can at least buy it for you.”

“Can I think about it?” I asked.

“Think as long as you’d like,” He conceded, throwing up his hands. “I’ll head out. If you want to take me up on the offer, just shoot me a text.”

I nodded and he left out the door. I immediately crashed onto the bed, holding my face in the pillow. Perhaps Jeffrey was right. I did, in fact, desperately need someone to talk to. I looked at the text message again and tried to use the little bit of legalese I knew to understand it. I’m nowhere near a professional but this seems reasonable enough. No part of me wants to just sign this…but what options do I have? I downloaded it and sat on it for a moment, staring at it. I decided to call Jeffrey himself. I might not know legalese but I can interpret bullshit when I hear it. 

“Oh, Arabella. I didn’t expect this,” Jeffrey answered the phone. 

“I know. But, do me a favor here,” I spluttered. “Just…explain to me what all this means. I think I get the idea, but just walk me through it, and I’ll let you know if I have any questions.”

“That’s not a problem. Go ahead. What’s your first concern?”

“I’m not sure what section 1.3 really means. I think it’s saying that your retainer is typically 50%  of expected hours, but since the expected work hours here are unlimited…then the retainer is $50,000? But also since it’s pro bono, there isn’t a retainer?”

“Basically. Here, let me walk you through it. So you see…”

~

“Cathal, I can’t do this,” I cried, burying my head in my hands. “The calling, the texting, the death threats. It just isn’t ending.” I thought I would puke as my phone just continuously buzzed. 

“I know,” He whimpered through the phone. “I’m really sorry.”

“Why did you post that stupid fucking photo?” I begged. “Everyone knows it's me.”

“How the fuck was I supposed to know that they could figure out your god damn name from a picture that barely had you in the background? How the fuck was I supposed to know that, Belle?”

“I don’t fucking know! God, fuck!” I screamed. I could feel my chest getting tight, and suddenly I felt the need to lower my curtains. I could not look at Brackley right now. Absolutely not. “If anyone, and I mean anyone, finds my fucking address I will fucking kill you.”

“Then I’m dead. Because I already have the fucking team paying off paparazzi after paparazzi. I fucking care about you, Belle. I do. Do not blame me for this level of insanity.”

“People want to kill me because I’m dating you. Even though, to them, I’m the reason for all your music. Yet, they want me dead for it.”

“None of them are real, I assure you, Belle,” He tried to calm me down. “None of them. They always send bullshit like this and they never mean it. It’s just one of those great perks of being famous.”

“I do not want to be famous,” I complained.

“Really? Running around with Formula drivers and working for actors and actresses, and dating a fucking musician? No part of you wants to be famous? It sure as fuck seems like you do.”

“No, I do not, Cathal. It’s my job. It’s my fucking job,” I wept. I could feel my tears staining the pillow beneath me. Every inch was slowly becoming covered with tears. I touched it. I had cried so hard and for so long that the other side of it was becoming damp. I would surely have to throw this pillow out. I would have to carry it to the trash in the kitchen, and then drag the bag out to the trash bin. I would have to take the bin to the curb, and make sure it didn’t block the garage, so I could take my car and drive it to work in the morning. I would have to stay at work trying to avoid thinking about this or risk dropping into a sad mess of tears. I would have to drive back home, and be careful not to hit my garbage can if it had shifted since they picked it up. I would then have to get out of my car and drag the bin back into the garage. I would have to do all of this without running into paparazzi because I doubt Cathal’s team could stop all of them. I would have to do all of this without for a second having a panic attack. I would have to do all of this without letting anyone know just how much it had fucked me up.

That to me was the most important factor. No matter what happened and no matter how bad this made me feel, absolutely no one would know how fucked up this had me. Whatever pictures the paparazzi took of me, I would look fucking good. This could be the worst day of my life but there’s no reason for anyone to know except me and Cathal. I pulled myself together as Cathal ranted about my hypocriticism. 

“You know what, Cathal? You can blame me all you want. You can say I’m the reason why my life was ruined. The truth is though, I know you better than anyone else. I know you better than all your fucking fans do. I know that you left all those bread crumbs on purpose. I know that you wanted them to know who I was because you thought it was so silly that I didn’t want to be known. You thought it was so weird that someone could date a magnificent celebrity like you and not just want to date them for their fame. You thought it was so absurd. Why don’t you go fuck a groupie about it? Why don’t you pass some venereal disease all throughout Europe about it? I don’t care anymore. I did exactly as I was told, Cathal. Go fuck yourself,” I spoke, hanging up. I turned my phone off. If someone needs me, they know how to get a hold of me without calling or texting me. I cleaned my face up, and put on a nice bathrobe. I threw the pillow out in the garbage, and made sure my house was clean. I then opened up the blinds. Sure enough, as soon as I did, I saw a camera flash inside a car that was neatly parked outside my house. 

At least I knew that when that picture hit the tabloids, it would be a good one.

~

“And there we go. Everything explained. What do you think?” Jeffrey asked, sounding like he nearly needed to catch his breath. I yawned deeply, becoming sleepy after Jeffrey had managed to run through the entire contract in excruciating detail without stopping.

“I think you really like being a lawyer,” I yawned again.

“I do, yes,” I could practically hear him beaming through the phone. 

“Yeah, really boring for me, honestly,” I deadpanned. “Anyway, yeah, sounds good. I’ll sign it.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. And after I sign it, how long until it goes into effect?”

“Instantly.”

“Great.” I instantly signed the paperwork and immediately returned it to him. 

“Thanks. Just got it.”

“Okay. Should I go to dinner with Toto?”

“Oh-we’re starting right away. Jesus Christ, Arabella. I’m not a magic 8 ball,” Jeffrey answered. “I don’t know if you should go to- wait he asked you out?”

“Asked me out is a strong sentiment,” I explained. “I really hope the walls here aren’t thin.”

“Is he right next to you or something?”

“His room is.”

“Oh my God, Arabella. That man wants you so bad.”

“Fucking hell, Jeffrey. I set up the rooms. Do you know who is also right next to him? Bono. Do you know who is also right next to me? Musconi. Because we’re all taking the same fucking car in the morning,” I explained.

“So…you want him so bad?”

“No, fucking hell, Jeffrey. It was just luck of the draw, I guess,” I replied. “All I did was say we should be on the same floor. In case something went wrong with the car.”

“Fine, fine. Whatever you say. So, he asked you for dinner?”

“Technically. He’s making up for interrupting our date…that I told him wasn’t a date.”

“Rude.”

“Rude? You gave me the idea with the whole ‘contract coming up’ bullshit. I just went with it. I didn’t want him to feel quite so crap for putting me in this situation.”

“Oh, situation? I’m a situation now?”

“Yes, Jeffrey. Yes, you are.” I looked out the window and could clearly see the signs of the impending dust storm. My family didn’t visit Morocco frequently when I was a child, but since we usually visited Marrakech in May, they were incredibly frequent. The wind would start blowing over the desert, and soon the sky would turn to a bright orange, the sand devouring us whole, while my father practically slapped us with face coverings to keep each of us from falling into unstoppable coughing fits. In a particularly bad one, I would stumble over my own feet trying to grab my sister’s shoulder, just to know I had someone with me. 

“You know, this is supposed to be a mutually positive experience.  You get to complain about work. I get to complain about work. Pretty good deal, I think,” Jeffrey argued.

“I think it’s closer to blackmail. Besides, you have given me very little advice in this situation.”

“Well, what exactly did he say, Arabella? Can I call you Bella?”

“You cannot. I’m not a crusty white dog,” I sighed. That was my go to line when someone asked if they could call me Bella. I found it made them far less difficult about it. “He just apologized and said he would make it up for me. I could pretty much take him up on dinner or just let him buy my room service basically.”

“Does…does he not already pay for your food when you travel?” Jeffrey asked. 

“Oh fuck you and your cleverness,” I sighed. “So…do you think it was a date then?”

“I promise you, I’m not trying to play therapist with you, but two things. For someone who says that she’s positive her boss isn’t into her, and she’s positive she isn’t into her boss, you’re awfully preoccupied with whether this is a date or not. Second thing, how would I know? Arabella, I barely know you and this guy. I can make assumptions based on my own knowledge about how I think things work but I can’t just come outright and say ‘Yes, for sure’ based on 3 hours of talking and maybe another hour of having sex,” Jeffrey explained. “You would actually have better luck with a magic 8 ball.”

“I’m really not into him. Just…curious,” I confidently spoke. “I’m 32 and lost out on my one realistic chance of marriage a year and a half ago. I get my hopes up at the slightest bit of attention even if I try to pretend I don’t.” As I spoke, the confidence quickly wore off. 

Jeffrey took a deep sigh. “Cathal, right?”

“I thought you were joking about Googling me,” I laughed, trying to soften the fact that my eyes were welling up with tears. I was over my ex. I had been for a long time. Nonetheless, the way he constantly crept up in my life had a strange way of never allowing old wounds to heal properly. We weren’t together for some crazy long period of time, but fame just wasn’t really for me. He just couldn’t understand that. Eventually, he was over it. Eventually, I was over being disrespected. Having your business out there all the time makes it impossible to ignore everything. Him being a musician means I constantly notice the way I don’t think he’s over me though. Releasing two breakup albums is a bit much, don’t you think? I could forgive one, but a second that was clearly still about me? Freaked me out a bit, if I’m honest. 

“I wasn’t. It was the first thing I saw. Your name plastered over all those headlines. Pictures of your house, pictures of you at races, pictures of you at Brackley. Just everywhere,” Jeffrey explained. 

“Most people forgot about it a long time ago. It was a Shakespearean tragedy in 5 acts for pop culture nerds. For everyone else, it really wasn’t anything.” I hate to admit it, but perhaps Cathal was the reason why I hated staying in Brackley so much. The way the discomfort lingered, and the way I swore sometimes I could smell him on my couch. It was stained with him, practically. Every inch was Cathal, Cathal, Cathal. Guitars on the walls, albums on the shelves, and a closet full of outfits he had worn while touring. It took months of vacuuming to stop finding his cat’s hair. 

“Not you though, huh? I can hear it in your voice,” Jeffrey answered.

“In my voice? Are you talking nonsense again?”

“Do you really think I’m not at all perceptive? I’m a lawyer, Arabella. Stop underestimating my people skills for once, or I’m going to hang up the phone.”

“Fine, fine. You’re right. It hasn’t really left me, partially, because it follows me around everywhere. You yourself said that you found it just by googling my name. Article after article detailing start-to-finish every aspect of our breakup and potential relationship history. None of that to mention that he’s two albums into the breakup and he won’t stop making songs about me.”

“How do you even know they’re about you?” Jeffrey asked innocently.

“The last album had a song called 100 degrees, which was entirely a reference to the perfect tire temp on an F1 tire. Not to mention the song just literally was about how hot I am but for some reason talking about me like I’m a car,” I sighed.

“I bet that didn’t sell well.” 

“Lookup ��Cathal Lynch objectifies ex-girlfriend quite literally in newest single.’ That one actually gives me quite the giggle,” I told him, thinking about the article. It had some great one liners, such as ‘ He compares her body to a Ferrari, which considering their recent performance in F1, she will certainly take as an insult.’ They were right. I did. 

“Is he trying to win you back?” 

“More like he’s trying to annoy me. Every single time he puts an album out there talking about me, or mentions me at a concert, or talks about it in an interview, it gets my name right back in the tabloids. He knows I hate that. Thankfully, the press doesn’t really care to get my pictures anywhere but F1 races since they know I’ll always be there, and why waste resources when everyone else has seemingly moved on?”

“Except him.”

“Obviously,” I groaned. “Anyway…you’re right. I’ll figure out on my own what to do when it comes to the dinner thing. I need to be a grown up, I suppose.”

“Yes, you should. Now, do you mind if I have my own little moment here about my life?” Jeffrey asked. What am I supposed to say? No? After bitching for very long about everything in my life? It wouldn’t be fair.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Do you know what I hate? More than anything else?”

“Hmm?”

“So many people think I do DaVinci code type shit, and have the tomb of Jesus Christ himself locked away in a vault in Switzerland just because I work for a Swiss Bank.”

“Really? What’s the weirdest thing you have stored away?” I asked.

“I don’t actually know. We don’t ask questions. One client was storing just a single banana, and got pretty mad when the thing went rotten.”

“Did…did they think you would keep it fresh forever?”

“Somehow, yes. It was apparently one of those super rare plant species and his personal fruit tree had grown that singular one that year. I told him we’d buy him a box of those bananas to satisfy him.”

“What? Really? You just had the company shell out that that money just because this dude doesn’t understand a single thing about safety deposit boxes?”

“Y’know, when I was a kid, my dad made me work at Tesco. He wanted me to see how retail worked because he swore that I would otherwise grow up an entitled rich kid. And when I was a cashier, I would sit there and complain about my managers giving random people free things for things that were their fault. Then suddenly, one day he left early, gave me his pin and told me to handle any problems that arose. One customer in, and I realized how much easier it was to just satisfy them with whatever silly request they had even if it wasn't our fault.”

“Nice story, Jeffrey. My parents own a tiny hotel on an island. We weren’t playing poor, we just were. The hotel to this day barely stays afloat. And whenever someone came in and begged for something free or said they were upset with the way the room was cleaned, whatever, my parents would check and make sure it wasn’t their fault. If it wasn’t, they would happily tell them to fuck off,” I storied back to him.

“Alright, Arabella. Whatever you say, huh? You can’t just let someone have an opinion, can you?” He asked.

“That whole story was an opinion? What are you, a Tory?” I joked.

“Oh, shush,” He laughed. 

“Now you tell a woman to quiet up, huh? Jeffrey…tsk, tsk, tsk.”

“Alright, alright. I get it. Well, run off now and figure out what you’re doing tonight. I’ll let you go now.”

“Oh, really? I thought there would be more.”

“I just didn’t want you to feel weird. It’s supposed to be a tradeoff. I wanted to trade,” Jeffrey shrugged.

“You know you don’t have to say something. You can just wait until something happens and then call me,” I explained.

“Except if I turn on Sky Sports and see Mercedes is at the paddock?” Jeffrey asked.

“Unless it’s the race or qualifying, that’s probably the perfect time to call, actually. I’m an assistant, not an engineer, Jeffrey.”

“Oh, right on. Well, I’ll speak with you later, Bella.”

“Nope.”

“Thought I’d get away with it,” He sighed, hanging up the phone. I laughed hearing my phone beep away. As useless as I suppose that conversation was in practicality, in theory, it felt very safe. Somehow, despite the literal contract I had just signed and argument we had last night,  I might as well had been speaking with someone I knew for a decade. Perhaps he knew so much from looking me up that he could truly act like that, or maybe we just truly have the perfect matching energies for a platonic relationship. 

I stared at the door thinking about my next move. I realized that if I did what I wanted to do, I would be locking myself in this room, keeping to my strict comfort zone. I don’t want to do that. I sent off a text to Toto.

Me: I’ll take you up on the offer.

Tags: @daddyslittlevillain

[everlastingdreams]

Weeping Monk x Reader : The Patience Of A Heart   Chapter 24

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Story Summary: After fire claimed the lives of your family, the monastery of your Uncle Carden becomes your new home. As the niece of a priest you are expected to behave prim and proper, but not even the watchful eyes of the Weeping Monk can see all. An ancient magic returns to life when love and duty begin to blur.

Chapter Title: The Ashen Legacy

Notes: Switching back and forth between proofreading this one and writing something else lol.

Warnings: There’s a list of warnings for this story: Murder. Violence. Death. Angst. Sexism. Strong Language. Trauma. Childhood trauma. Survivor’s guilt. Mentions of child maltreatment. Threat of Sexual assault. PTSD. Misogyny, Self-flagellation. Gore.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Pining. Smut. Spicy content. Little Slow-burn.

Word count of this fic: +130K

Chapter:  24 / 27

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 What started as a sunny calm day, was overturned by the news that had reached to your ears.

By the time you had arrived in the hallway of the dining hall, Lancelot arrived there as well.

The Faun Woman who taught the children how to read was standing beside Neia and Percival.

Neia had her head tilted down, eyes never leaving the floor until she saw you and Lancelot.

She looked like she was expecting a scolding soon…

But it was Percival who drew most of the attention, he looked very ticked off.

There had been trouble during the lesson, but what sort?

The Faun Woman named ‘Amelyn’ informed Lancelot of the problem “Percival fought with another child and Neia helped him.”

What?!? You couldn’t believe your ears.

The Ash Man was only mildly surprised “May I have a moment to speak to them?”

Amelyn approved and stepped away to give them some space.

He aimed the question at both children “What happened?”

Not a word came out of them…

You sounded somewhat stern “Neia?”

The slight shift in tone was enough to make her look at you with big worried eyes “I’m sorry!”

The child looked one second away from either crying or fleeing…

Lancelot knelt down and consoled her “No one will hurt you. We only wish to know what happened. Tell me?”

The children shared a look and Percival shrugged his shoulders at her.

It prompted Neia to speak the truth “I was sitting down and listening to the story Miss Amelyn was telling us, but then a boy pulled at my hair and took one of the flowers out.”

You had thought the messy hair was from the fight.

The Ash Man looked at Percival for the rest of the information and got an eye-roll instead “Percival, you saw this happen?”

Percival had no remorse over his response “I pushed him away from her, he was the one that started it!”

You saw Lancelot look down to the floor briefly so the children would not see how proud he looked of them. And you prayed he would keep it together until the matter was discussed.

He looked at the girl “Neia?”

Neia sheepishly admitted “He was trying to hurt Percival too, so I jumped on his back to pull that boy away from him.”

So there was fight in the girl after all.

The curiosity took hold on him “Did you hurt that boy?”

Percival was quick to answer that one “Yup.” with the most proud expression he’d ever seen on a child.

Who was he to say that violence was not the right way… the boy would surely think him a jester.

But, these were still children and it should not become the norm.

You went over to Miss Amelyn “Did you know that the other boy was bothering Neia?”

Of course the woman could not have her eyes everywhere, but the boy in question was nowhere to be seen.

Miss Amelyn had clearly not been aware of this, which came as no surprise because the children had refused to break their silence until now.

“No, I did not.” She turned to Neia and asked “Neia, will you come with me to point out who was bothering you?”

The girl wished to refuse, but saw the encouraging looks aimed at her “Yes…”

Miss Amelyn took Neia by the hand and led her into the dinning hall.

This had not been an act of unprovoked violence after all.

Percival was stopped from following them by Lancelot.

The Ash Man said “I know why you have done it, I understand. I do hope this will not occur frequently?”

The boy chewed his words before answering “It won’t.” then quieter “If they leave her alone.”

For keeping the peace, he ignored that last mumbled statement coming from the boy.

With some wise words he steered the boy back towards the dinning hall and opened the door for him “We have enough battles to fight, let’s not add more.”

When Lancelot let Percival in, both of you could see a boy getting a rather fierce scolding from Miss Amelyn.

At least she cared about the truth and with a heart at peace you could leave them to their lessons again.

Lancelot shut the door again.

“Percival is taking his duty as a knight serious.” You commented.

He hummed with a slight smirk “A knight of the Fey, but one girl has most of his attention it seems.”

That was true, you couldn’t hide your own smirk “She fought alongside him.”

He jested about it “Do you think she is old enough to learn how to wield a sword too?”

It was partly a genuine question. At what age was it appropriate? He was taught at a very early age…

You blinked a few times “She just jumped on a boy’s back and you’re willing to hand her a sword?”

The laugh he tried to swallow came out anyway, he dared to joke “I handed you one.”

You pulled a face at him, then said “We should get wooden swords made. Before our children all end up losing limbs.”

He thought about it “A good idea. They can learn while playing with them?”

It would be much safer, if the swords had no sharp edges at least.

“That way, they won’t feel pressured.” You agreed.

Lancelot reminded you of what he had asked yesterday “Are you still willing to join me in the forest tonight?”

You hadn’t forgotten “Of course. Should I bring some buckets of water?”

The jest had him rolling his eyes “So little faith in me?”

You weren’t going to take it back “Just making sure.”

He stroked along the back of your arm “It will not be necessary.”

His eyes swiftly darted between yours and your mouth and it was enough to send a shiver over your skin.

~“Lancelot!”~

The cheery voice of Arthur stole away the moment between you.

With a sigh, Lancelot acknowledged it “Yes?”

Arthur beckoned for him “Gawain is asking for you.”

The Ash Man tried to keep the disappointment out of his tone “Very well.” he turned to you “I will see you tonight.”

You nodded in confirmation and watched him go over to Arthur and they both walked off together.

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  Darkness began to fall over the city and Lancelot preferred to only take Goliath and you along. No one knew how Llamrai would react to seeing Fey Fire, it was safer to leave her at the stables.

Together you rode on Goliath into the forest at a snail pace.

A long silence had preceded his question “I have thought about speaking to Percival and Gawain about our plan to wed.”

There was the reason why he had been pretty quiet now “You’re asking me for approval?”

He leaned in close, head almost touching your shoulder “Yes.”

When you took a moment to think about it, you could just feel the anxiousness radiate from him.

You freed him from it by answering “That’s fine. I’m nervous.”

He felt some relief when hearing he was not alone to feel like this “So am I. You are aware that Feys wed in a different manner than Manbloods?”

The tales were known about this different kind of wedding “I am.”

Lancelot asked your opinion on the matter “Is that what you want?”

You were far from opposed to it “It always sounded lovely to hear the stories of these joinings. Where I grew up, the people were not so afraid to speak about the Fey.”

Tonight he was surprisingly open on the subject “If at any time you change your mind about us being wed, I will understand. I only ask that you will not be afraid to tell me.”

You felt his steady breaths pass by your cheek “I have no intention on changing my mind. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

A wandering hand glided over your stomach “I have been since the day you came to the monastery.”

You rolled your eyes when he could not see.

And did he really think you did not notice how he had moved your cloak aside just so he could sneak his hand under?

Prying his fingers off your stomach proved futile and the twit actually dared to tickle you.

The thin leather vest you wore did little to shield you from it.

In a last attempt to ‘escape’ you leaned forward to protect your stomach from him.

Quick as a whip, his hand moved to slowly stroke from your shoulder blades down your spine.

It was the very quiet hum, that sounded as if it had come from deep within his chest, that made your heart roll around in your chest.

It had sounded appreciative…

Slowly you sat upright again, the wit had abandoned you.

And he seemed aware of the shift in atmosphere too, his eyes were aimed at the trees ahead.

You really did try not to mention it, but… “Someone is acting a little lascivious tonight.”

His voice had dropped into a husk “I enjoyed your company last night.”

That had been quite obvious.

“And you are hoping to repeat it?” You guessed with a grin.

It was an open invitation “My door will be open, in case you are still not feeling well.”

Oh. What a very kind, and not at all ambiguous, offer.

In return, you gave him an equal answer “I will remember it is so.”

He could not help but love how disinterested you pretended to be, leaving him to speculate whether or not you would join him tonight.

Lancelot pushed aside a low branch before it could cause you or him harm. The branch obeyed and flowers began to grow from it after the contact.

This forest reacted to the Fey in the most peculiar ways.

The next branch was yours to touch and to your disappointment it gave no response.

He noticed it “What is wrong?”

It felt silly to admit “This forest doesn’t react to me. I guess the mark does not mean that there is magic present in me.”

He was more positive “Or the magic in you has yet to see the light.”

With that said, he took the arm that bore the mark and bared it, then held it out to the side and waited.

Nothing happened until his thumb began to tease the mark and lure it to the surface in it’s silver glow.

His words were like silk near your ear “My magic is in you. If the Moon Wing could sense it, this forest can too.”

The little hope and expectation faded when nothing happened.

But he was patient and that patience paid off.

A very small bird landed on your hand and it nearly gave you a fright.

Lancelot had held your hand still and therefore the bird remained where it was seated.

It looked like a hummingbird, but it’s colors were different, incredibly vibrant.

Purple feathers blended with blue ones, a deep red on the crown of it’s head.

The ends of it’s wings were luminous, like magic lived in them.

Once overcome the initial reaction, you looked at the bird in awe.

It was so tiny…

With it’s beak it pinched at your palm and then it hopped further onto your arm, the bird looked quite curious toward the glowing mark.

Lancelot whispered “You may not be Fey, but as long as I may live I will share what I can with you.”

The tiny toes of the bird were tickling your arm as it hopped around.

Under the moon and stars with your lover and chosen as the place where this beautiful bird took a moment to rest, it was enough to make anyone a little emotional.

Being introduced to his world meant the world to you.

The tiny bird spread it’s wings and fluttered away.

Slowly he let go off your arm and the mark dimmed it’s glow.

The silence coming from you was unusual…

You turned your head just enough to press your lips ardently to his cheek, two counts passed and the whisper fell “I love you.”

If anything could melt a frozen heart, it was the look in your eyes and the declaration that came with it.

Goliath stopped at the command of his rider.

He blessed the night for hiding some of that red hue his face undoubtedly had now “Enough to watch me play with magic that could burn a forest down?”

Your eyes rolled over him “Absolutely.”

Without warning he dismounted “Well then.”

He reached up, an offer to help you dismounted as well.

It was probably just a ruse to have his hands on you some more.

“So…how does this begin?” You gestured around.

He tied the reins to a tree and pointed at a bit of an open spot in the forest “I’ll make a fire. And I hope to transform it into Fey Fire that I can control.”

Now that it was time, he caught himself reconsidering on those buckets of water…

You walked a few steps and then sat down on the grass.

So much fidgeting, the poor Ash Man was visibly tense.

  Anyone could see that he was nervous to practice his magic. For one who was quite skilled with making a fire, it took him longer than usual to light the small stack of branches.

Finally a spark touched the dry grass and flames grew from it.

Relief washed over him and away again “Every time I have used this power, it was linked to what I felt in that moment. I do not know if I can transform the flames when I am calm.”

To you, he didn’t look calm, but anxious “Take your time, Lancelot. I know you can do it.”

After pacing back and forth for a moment, he brought a hand closer to the flames.

The heat was felt, the fire could not burn him no matter how hard it tried.

Those flames under his palm brought forth the desire to take hold of them. To feel them dance in his palm and witness their destructive beauty.

Seeing the fire lick his skin but not burn him had your heart in your throat. The urge to run over and drag him away from it was strong and you had to fight it off.

By taking quick deep breaths, you hoped to calm the fear that took hold on you.

Lancelot had seen the change in you, and when he looked he saw a pair of concerned eyes watching him “It does not hurt me.”

It did little to make the pout on your face vanish.

The result of your experiences with nature’s element had burdened you with the fear.

Upon seeing that you remained concerned, he withdrew his hand and walked towards you to show his unscathed palm.

Your concern faded at the sight “I cannot help but worry, I’m sorry.”

He caressed your cheek “I chose the right woman to have as my wife.”

The statement was making you smile no matter how hard you fought it “Were there other options?”

Now that earned you a tap of his hand against your shoulder, he tsked “No.”

After taking a breath, you gave in “I need to let you do what is necessary to embrace your power. So, I offer my help when you need it.”

He jested “If I light this forest on fire, act like I was never here.”

You groaned at his foolery “Let’s see you make that Fey Fire first.”

With a little shove against his arm, you send him back to the task at hand.

He approached the fire and knelt down before it, both knees touching the grass below “I can do this…”

Those weeping eyes fell shut, his breathing slowed down. It almost looked as if he was praying and maybe he was.

To the old gods of the Fey, or the one he was taught to serve, it did not matter as long as it brought him the confidence he needed

You kept very quiet and watched the flames begin to act fickle, but the colors remained the same.

Upon seeing the effort without result, you got up and walked over to him “At the church, what did you think of when your powers came forth?”

His eyes opened and looked up to yours “I thought of you. I saw the flames engulf the church and feared the worst.”

The memory of that moment was one he wished to forget.

He continued to recall what had went through him “I swore to myself that I would meet my end if I stood aside and let it happen. I felt the power burn in me, then it burned in every flame I wished it for.”

He rubbed his palms together, a soothing gesture he often did when his mind ran off with him to darker places.

Quietly, you got closer and took a seat next to him “Once I was safe, it stopped did it not?”

Lancelot nodded, it was as if a storm had passed through him and left him feeling very strange “It did. I felt it fade into me again.”

You thought for a while and gave your opinion on it “Maybe…the key to control this, is thinking of something you care about?”

It silenced him.

Every time he was able to seize control of his magic it was when he thought of you…

When he marked you, the burning church…

Was the love he had for you the key?

And to believe the Church considered this magic evil while it was born from love…

The love between Festa and Moreii.

And now the love between you and him.

It gave him new hope “I believe it to be possible.”

The Ash Man was beginning to see the pieces of the puzzle more clearly.

You placed your hand to his arm “Instead of giving yourself a headache thinking of the fire, think of something nice. Something that motivates you, that calms you and just brings you joy. I think you will find your power in your own happiness, Lancelot.”

He took hold of your hand and brought your wrist up to brush his lips against it, the bangle still sat safely in place.

Your hand was released by him again.

There was more confidence in him now and a fresh spurge of determination “It is time to return what was stolen from the Fey so long ago.”

You pointed out “It has already returned.”

At first he frowned, until realization hit him and it caused a smile.

He had to snap his attention away from you to concentrate again.

This time he didn’t close his eyes and watched the flames dance in the wind.

Quietly you reminiscent about your journey together “When you came to fetch me when I was returning late from the village…I never forgot how nice it felt to have someone care.”

He offered you one of his own fond memories “You were the first person I remember that told me they did not wish to see me hurt.”

A look was shared and the flames began to transform seconds later, it wasn’t long before there was only Fey Fire present.

The Ash Man reached out and brought his hand into the flames, the green leafed Fey markings crawled to the surface of his skin, the tears beneath his eyes turned a burning green again.

This power, he could feel it try to claw it’s way out and preventing it was almost painful.

What if he surrendered to it?

Better now than during an inconvenient time…

He rose to his feet and stopped inches from the fire, it reached for him like a child would reach for their parents…

“Stay where you are.” He made the request to you.

You stayed seated and watched him take the steps to learn to control this magic.

Slowly he reached for the fire again and moved his arm to the side, the flames followed the unspoken command and spread where he motioned to.

Even slower, he lifted his hand and watched the flames rise to meet it.

The longer he practiced to control it, the more the green beneath his eyes changed until it had turned into a red one would only seen in the deepest fire.

His powers were freed, he was one with the flames.

The fire reflected in his eyes, similar to the moon on the dark sea.

You’d never seen the marks on his face turn red before and it was a wonder to behold.

And what was even more amazing to see was how enthralled he was with what he was doing.

Like a child who was given the toy their heart had desired.

There was no fear in him now, only wonderment.

Your mouth had curved into a soft smile “Imagine if Percival saw this.”

He let some flames flutter like butterflies through the night sky “Do you think he will be frightened?”

Some of these fire born butterflies flew around you “Frightened? No. That boy would make you do it every second of the day. And so would Neia. Heaven, even I could watch it happen forever.”

He turned his head to look at you and saw the green specks of fire flutter around you.

You wished you had more eyes so you could keep looking at all of them “It’s beautiful, Lancelot.”

The Ash Man got closer and by the time he knelt next to you, the Fey Fire had created a circle just for the two of you.

You brushed a stray lock from his face and touched your thumb to the red that burned in his markings “I am so proud of you. Look how far you’ve come. You are what the Fey lost, not just your magic, but the man that you are. Having you here brings hope.”

If the rare Ash Folk could return after so long, there was hope for other things to return as well.

He leaned into the tender touch “I pray that I can help my people, I owe it to them.”

From an enemy to an ally, the Ash Man had given up the life he knew to follow what his heart believed was right.

Of course you were proud “I have faith in you. Magic or no magic, I know the Fey have gained a good man. Someone who won’t give up on them.”

The way he brought his hand to the back of your scalp to massage the place felt heavenly.

The pampering didn’t stop when he saw how much you enjoyed it “Let us return home.”

Before you could even object, the green flames were extinguished and with that the red from his marks too.

A disappointed noise slipped from your mouth.

Hearing it made him chuckle “Come on. Up.”

After being helped to your feet you looked around yourself and missed the green sparks that had flown through the air “Can you do that again when we’re together at night?”

You held your index finger up and gestured comically.

For a second he considered pretending not to understand what you were speaking off…

He asked for clarification “Just before we sleep, you mean?”

Thankfully, he understood you “Yes.”

Lancelot slowly started walking “I promise I will do so if I can do it without setting the room we are in on fire.”

You followed him towards Goliath “Preferably. Escaping one burning place was enough.”

Should he have thought the jest through more?

“Forgive me. I should not make light of-” He started.

“It’s alright. You’ve said nothing wrong.” You assured.

He was visibly relieved and offered to help you mount Goliath.

Of course you could get on without help, but then he wouldn’t have his hands on you again.

The ride back was peaceful, he was noticeably happy with the results reached tonight.

Upon return at the fortress, Lancelot was met with a very grumpy looking young Fey boy.

Percival stood with his arms crossed in the middle of the hall where your rooms were located “Where did you go?”

The question was mainly aimed at the Ash Man who had not informed the boy of this late excursion.

If he told the boy the truth, he was in for trouble…

This child would not like to hear that he was practicing magic in the forest without him, even if it was for safety measurements.

When it was clear that you weren’t in any trouble, you stepped away from them slowly and moved towards your room.

Lancelot knew right away that you were leaving him to undergo the wrath of the boy and send you a look.

You send him a cheeky look back, opened your door and successfully withdrew yourself from the confrontation.

The magic fire would have to wait for another night.

                                       ━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

  That morning, you were awoken by the sound of Percival’s shocked voice.

You sat up in bed right away and listened for another sound.

~“WHAT?!?”~

There was a hushed voice, that undoubtedly belonged to Lancelot, answering the inquiry.

~“YOU WHAT?!?”~

Whatever he was telling the boy, it was giving him quiet an attitude in return.

Another hushed reply came and not even when you leaned against the wall could you hear what the Ash Man said to the boy.

Percival’s voice reached a higher pitch.

~“MARRY?!?”~

That was your cue to jump out of bed and start dressing before you’d be interrogated as well.

Never had you put on a pair of trousers and a shirt so fast before, you snatched the sleeveless long leather vest from where you had tossed it aside the night before.

~“What else is there ?!?”~

More incomprehensible mumbling followed…

~“KING?!?”~

Oh goodness…

This time you could hear how Lancelot was trying to calm the boy.

But Percival was having none of it, you heard only parts of what he said.

~“If you’re— marry her— queen.”~

That halted you, it was clear what the boy was speaking of.

If you married Lancelot, who was a king by birthright, it would make you his queen. You plopped down on your bed again, the fact truly settled in.

In time the Fey would recognize his devotion to protect them and if they realized what he was, there was a chance they’d name and accept him as king.

Especially with the power that resided in him, ancient and to protect them, they would not deny him.

Were you ready for when that day would come?

At this time he refused kingship, but once they would grant it to him too, would he still reject it?

Nothing would frighten the Church more than one raised by them, with their secrets, to become a king of the enemy.

Even Lancelot would consider it the perfect insult to them.

An Ashen king with a Manblood queen…would the Fey ever allowed it?

No, you couldn’t let these doubts steal away the joy you felt at the prospect of marrying him. No one knew what the future holds.

You forced yourself to stand and be more confident on the matter. It was time to announce your plans to wed, if Lancelot told it to Percival, it was only a matter of time before the others would hear of it.

A quick announcement would be better than delaying it and if Percival knew, it would become a very quick announcement…

You opened the door, stepped out and were met with a couple of widened brown eyes.

Neia had been eavesdropping at Percival’s door, she looked as if she expected a harsh scolding or worse.

The quiet gasp of the startled child was heartbreaking.

“It’s alright. I’m not upset.” You quickly assured the frightened girl.

She seemed rather ashamed of her eavesdropping.

You stepped over to her and asked “You heard them speak to each other too?”

Neia visibly relaxed once it was clear that she was not the only one who had heard Percival and Lancelot speak “Is it true?”

With a nod, you took her hand in yours and knocked on the door to Percival’s room.

It was opened by Lancelot and once he let the both of you in, all was explained to the children.

  Not much later, you sat in the dining hall at the table among friends.

Often you sneaked a glance at Lancelot who seemed just as nervous as you were. On the end of the long table were Neia and Percival, two children asked to keep a secret while it was ready to spill from their mouths.

Pym was shoveling her baked eggs into her mouth with a hunger one would have after a week of starvation.

Arthur was filling his stomach with conversation, especially towards Red Spear.

Kaze was picking up a piece of meat from her plate which she looked at with suspicion and shamelessly dropped it onto Gawain’s plate, the knight looked at it oddly but said not a word.

Lancelot wasn’t eating, he was moving the food on his plate around to make it look like he was.

Gawain noticed the odd behavior of his friend “Is something the matter?”

A moment of silence passed, the Ash Man put his fork down.

He sounded more confident than he felt “I have news I wish to share.”

The knight did not look away from him “I am listening.”

Lancelot drank some water from his tankard first, then shared the news “Y/n and I will wed.”

The silence that fell over the table was so sudden and unexpected.

Had they all heard?!?

They stared at him, then at you to see your response to the claim.

Your voice was quieter than a mouse’s “It’s true.”

Arthur held his tongue for only a few seconds and ended up blurting out “I don’t believe it.”

Lancelot was visibly offended by his statement “Pardon?”

Arthur truly believed it was just a joke “Wed? You? Come on. You were a monk not long ago, Lancelot.”

Pym had stopped chewing her food and watched the scene unfold.

Hearing that made you turn to Arthur and subtly, considering there were nosy children nearby, you made the vague comment “He was. Although it is getting harder for me to tell.”

Lancelot dropped his eyes to his plate and bit back the smirk.

Gawain and Arthur’s eyes had widened by the comment.

Red Spear had little to no reaction to the news, she was more annoyed by being interrupted during her meal.

Kaze rolled her eyes and mumbled “I knew it.”

The Ash Man faced the skeptical Arthur “I cannot change who I was, but I can decide who I am now. I will wed her. You may have doubts, I do not.”

Hearing that he had no doubts to wed warmed your heart and erased any fears you previously had about it.

Arthur apologized to his friend “You’re right. I am not the person who I used to be either and neither are you. I believe in the man you have become, Lancelot. For all it’s worth… you have my blessing.”

“And mine.” Gawain chimed in, patting the Ash Man on the back amicably.

Pym muttered quietly “This is so weird…”

You smiled at her bewildered response.

Kaze shrugged her shoulders, there was not a single person there who did not expect the response, at least her weapons stayed sheathed so it was considered a good reaction.

“I didn’t know you were that close.” Pym was still in a state of processing the news.

Red Spear looked in your direction, then told Pym “Always keep your weapons closer than anyone or anything.”

Poor Arthur drank some ale from his tankard after hearing the advice from the raider’s Captain.

Gawain raised his tankard “Here’s to the joining of our former monk and nun.”

Lancelot rolled his eyes at the jest and shook his head but did raise his tankard too.

Everyone else did as well, even Kaze although she only moved hers an inch up from table and went back to eating her breakfast.

You shared a relieved look with Lancelot.

No more hiding.

And a joining to look forward too.

Life really had fallen back into place, it had been a rocky road, but the journey was worth every second of it.

Taglist:

@ourlazydetectivekitten​​ @the-great-adventures-of-me​​ @linkpk88​​  @fxrchxldws​​  @elenaoftheturks​​ @slytherlight​​ @beananacake​​    @crystallizedtime​​  @moonlightaura03​​  @angrygardendeer​​  @have-aheart​​   @5am-cigarette​​ @arcanenature​​  @thewinterskywalker​​ @notyourwildestdream​​ @coloursforyourportrait​​ @koressecretidentity​​ @nike90​​​ @n1ghtlux​​​ @rachlovesactors​​​ @luckyzipperscissorsbat​​​ @morena-doing-stuff​​​  @the-fangirl-diaries​​​ @gipsydanger17​​​ @heavenly1927​​​  @phantasmalbeiing  @labyrinthonmymind  @asarcastic-thiamstan  @rainyv-skies​​​

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist of this story.

[cordycepsbian]

hihihigihi uhh

can you name some of your ocs?-

haven't seen much of any i dont thingk. or maybe i just am blind

that's fair we don't have our toyhouse linked anywhere and that only has a fraction of our ocs listed on it

bugs fable ocs;

chrys - never talked about them before whoops. from our bug fables future headcanons. they're a cuckoo wasp and they're on an explorer team with tod and terrie mop - everyone knows mop. the star of the show

synth - evil roach lady. came from the giant's lair and tried to start snakemouth lab 2: electric boogaloo. she's like if soul master was a girl kind of bernie - most divorced poor little meow meow bee man ever. got kicked out of the hive because cosmic horrors happened to him. vi's dad but that's not really relevant they don't know each other ilon & lilly - butterfly and beetle on an explorer team. kind of side characters in future bug fables iris - cute and trustworthy mantis lady who runs a diner and definitely doesn't cook people checkers - zombee who is two different bees sewn together. former nurse in one life. unwillingly pulled into synth's schemes mint - zombeetle who escaped the lab to try and find his former explorer partner. not going well for him latte - baby zombiant. just a little guy sammy - zombie fly with a different kind of fungus than the cordyceps ones. got sent to bee kingdom zombie jail until the doctor who made it like that let it escape penny - the doctor who did that to sammy. it was an accident she swears marshmallow - peacock spider who started mimicking bugs and living in society just for a laugh

and our hollows knights

caprice - nosk who disguises herself as a traveling musician. reads minds to find familiar tunes and plays them for her victims. our personal favorite to draw ollie - ant that got splashed with the death pheromone and kicked out of his colony for it. traveled with caprice before getting infected and dying for real

celadon - mantis who left the tribe to pursue a more peaceful lifestyle. is just vibing in greenpath now flower pot - vessel that celadon adopted. likes being painted on capt. geo-eye - earwig pirate captain. quite literally has a piece of geo where his eye should be. currently plundering the abandoned kingdom of hallownest treasure chest - vessel that geo-eye adopted. a little ruffian that attacks ankles

and our rains worlds

uncrossed finish line - senior of their local group. thought sliver of straw was onto something. worked so hard to replicate her that they overheated and collapsed deep impression of a fang - junior of the same group. looked up to finish line and was devastated when they died. tried to purpose an organism strong enough to kill him after that happened flightless birds - second youngest of the group. bit of a silly goose. spends more time talking in group chats and having fun than doing work. in her lane. unbothered. flourishing monday morning sunrise - second oldest of the group. eepy. spends 100 cycles to do anything empire of ants - firm Middle Child. ascribes to the same thinking of a benefactor monk. never talks to anyone ever three glowing scales - no local group because they're in the middle of the ocean. makes a lot of purposed creatures to send messages across the sea ever-flowing rapids - purposed slugcat made by 3gs. true aquatic scug that can breathe underwater and move at speed. rivulet's ancestor the crusader - purposed slugcat made by dioaf. the thing that was intended to kill him. gets stronger the higher its karma is the trickster - purposed slugcat made by nsh. exists to send memes. can change colors to mimic predators the sleepwalker - normal slugcat that got hit on the head and can't sleep now. always gets shelter failures and special night creatures attack them the symbiosis - used to be our scugsona but now they're just vibing. full of fungus. kills bugs instantly but gets hurt by sunlight two splinters of wood under tropical leaves - benefactor that lived on mms. ran a shelter for purposed organisms that outlived their usefulness. number one enjoyer of weird little critters muddy water running through steel canals - benefactor that lived on looks to the moon. mechanic that dabbles in bioengineering. invented miros birds so you can all get mad at aer for that shrill ringing noise, a broken spear - benefactor that used to live on dioaf. got banished to the surface for assassinating a council member. living the creature life now

[thepastisalreadywritten]

Meteora is an exquisite complex that consists of huge dark stone pillars rising outside Trikala, near the mountains of Pindos.

Monasteries that sit on top of these rocks make up the second most important monastic community in Greece, after Mount Athos in Halkidiki.

Out of the thirty monasteries that were founded throughout the centuries, only six of them are active today.

History of Meteora goes many millenniums back. In Greek, the name Meteora aptly translates to “suspended in air.”

Theories upon the creation of this natural phenomenon are associated with the geological movements that have occurred several geological periods ago.

Scientists believe that these pillars were formatted about 60 million years ago, during the Tertiary Period.

That time, the area was covered by sea but a series of earth movements caused the seabed to withdraw.

The mountains left were continuously hit by strong winds and waves, which, in combination with extreme weather conditions, affected their shape.

This is why the pillars are composed of sandstone and conglomerate.

In Byzantine times, monks had the inspiration to construct monasteries on top of these rocks so that they would be closer to god.

The foundation of Meteora monasteries began around the 11th century CE.

In the 12th century CE, the first ascetic state was officially formed and established a church to the Mother of God as their worshiping center.

Activities on this church were not only related to worshiping God, but hermits used these occasions to discuss their problems and exchange ideas relating to their ascetic life there.

In the 14th century CE, Saint Athanasios established the Holy Monastery of the Transfiguration of Jesus and named this huge rock Meteoro, which means ''hanged from nowhere.''

This monastery is also known as the Holy Monastery of the Great Meteoron, the largest of all monasteries.

For many centuries, the monks used scaffolds for climbing the rocks and getting supplies.

As years passed, this method was followed by the use of nets with hooks and rope ladders. Sometimes a basket was used, which was pulled up by the monks.

Wooden ladders of 40 meters long were also one of the essential tools for accessing the monasteries.

Between the 15th-17th century CE, Meteora was at its prime with the arrival of many monks from other monasteries or people who wanted to lead an ascetic life in this divine environment.

However, the prosperity of Meteora during that time started to fade away after the 17th century CE, mainly due to the raids of thieves and conquerors.

These caused many monasteries to be abandoned or destructed.

Today, only 6 monasteries operate with a handful of monks each. The only nunnery (female monastery) is the Monastery of Agios Stefanos.

Meteora was added to the UNESCO World Heritage List in 1988 because of the outstanding architecture and beauty of the complex, in addition to its religious and artistic significance.

📷: credit to the owner (photo 1) / Christos Kapoulas (photos 2 and 3)

© Greeka

[bonkusdonkus]

I don’t know if this a hot take or not, but Monk is my favorite martial class!

I just really have a soft spot for martial arts, especially the fantasy, magical over the top kind. It’s such a cool blend of crazy action movie schlock like running up walls and catching bullets with your bare hands, and the endless quest of self-betterment. Like, you have trained your body and mind into a well-oiled machine, a force of nature, you have sharpened your very life force into an instrument of your own will, and tapped into a well of focus and self-discipline that others could only dream of, a perfect marriage of grace and power.

And you can use that enlightened grace and power to punt bad guys into the stratosphere and grow a spiritual arm out of your chest and punch dudes in the face, and that’s just rad.

Lol silly Jackie Chan antics aside, I love monk, but something I’ve always struggled with them is origin stories. Because you don’t just wake up one day punching energy blasts at dudes and parkour running up the sides of buildings. That kind of thing takes years of dedication and training, and you don’t just do that kind of thing for fun on the weekends.

I’ve always struggled to find a different origin than “was raised in a monastery,” so in an effort to combat that, and hopefully help others who also struggle with that, I’ve decided to compile a list of origin ideas I pulled out of my butt! Because while there’s nothing wrong with being raised in a monastery, variety is the spice of life, and I want some!

As usual when I make lists like these, feel free to snag any ideas you like for your own PCs/NPCs/Whatever you want to use them for! Or don’t! It’s your call!

You were born on the street. You had nothing, and no future, until in desperation you started taking part in underground tournaments and illegal street fights for money. You couldn’t afford weapons, so you used your fists. It turns out, you were pretty good at it. You rarely won, pitted against giant thugs and savage beats for the entertainment of society’s dregs, but you survived, and you got paid. And for a while, that was enough. Then one day, a grizzled old gladiator sees you fight. They take you aside and tell you they see potential in you, and with training, you could be a real champion. That, and as a gladiator, you would receive free food and board. You accepted their offer, and trained with your new mentor to become something more than a street rat.

Your home city has a problem. Namely, that there are an alarming amount of criminal mages. The city watch is simply not equipped or trained to deal with crazy magic wielders hurling fireballs everywhere, and since most of the mages in the city are criminals, they have no one to effectively fight back. So, they have decided train an elite strike force of warriors to counteract the rampant spell flingers, specially trained in subduing hostile mages. You are one of these elite warriors.

You are cursed. There is dark magic within you, clawing at your mind and body, gnawing, lurking, hungry. Whether it be Vampirism, Lycanthropy, or some other dark malady, there is something in you yearning to take over, eager to plunge you into madness. But you weren’t content to sit idly by and let it happen. Having heard of the immense self-control and inner peace of monks, you studied their ways, teaching yourself meditation techniques, katas, and the iron will you needed to battle the monster within. So far, it’s been working. Your training and discipline has paid off, and the darkness in you has been kept at bay. For now, at least.

Your childhood was a lonely one. You had indifferent parents, more concerned with their jobs or social lives than you, your extended family were equally indifferent, and you had few if any friends. Your only faithful companion, was the TV. Left largely to your own devices, you watched a lot of it. Cartoons, dramas, cooking shows, basically whatever was on. But one day you found a channel that would change your life for ever. A channel that basically only showed reruns of old martial arts movies and shows. From goofy power rangers-esque shows to poorly dubbed to kung fu shlock, from brutal tales of revenge to tongue-in-cheek parodies, if it had martial arts in it, it was on the channel. And you were enraptured by it. You saw on the screen what you wished you were: Heroes in charge of their own destiny. And so you began to mimic the moves you saw on TV, slowly but surely training yourself in the ways of the monk in hopes of one day being a master, just like your heroes of the small screen.

You are just another face in the crowd, a nobody. A farmer, a tailor, a roadworker, a secretary, a desk jockey, whatever you are, you’re just another person working a repetitive, thankless job, slogging your way through each day the same as the last one. The monotony is starting to drown you. Until one day you hear about a wandering martial artist looking for students. Desperate to add some spice to your life, on a whim you join their class. Sure enough, it’s just what you needed. The martial arts give you something to live for, shaking off the drudgery of your day to day life. You finally feel alive again. But at the end of the day, your still just a nobody, albeit one with a strange hobby. It’s not like you’re going to get dragged into a strange adventure out of nowhere now that you know how to fight... Right?

Normally, you’re a total dweeb. You’re bashful, clumsy, and lack any kind of hand eye coordination. But after getting a little too drunk once, you made an... Interesting discovery about yourself. While inebriated, you become on unstoppable fighting machine! The second you get some booze in you, you go from clumsy disaster to unstoppable whirlwind of fury! A true master of the drunken fist. You have no idea where this strange quirk comes from, you’ve never trained a day in your life, but being able to suddenly become a master martial artist at will is certainly useful.

You are an entertainer. You and your troupe specialize in feats of incredible martial skill, sword dancing, balancing your whole weight on the tip of a knife, performance fighting, that sort of thing. You and your comrades are less fighters and more actors, your battles being carefully choreographed performances rather than actually combat, kinda like pro wrestling. Still, being able to do such incredible feats without killing each other takes a lot of focus, practice and skill, hence your near supernatural abilities. On paper, you’re not a real warrior. But, you know the old saying about doctors, how if they how to put someone back together, they also know how to take them apart? The same goes for martial arts. If you know how to avoid hurting someone, then you definitely know how to do it for real...

[mrsalwayswrite]

Sinners and Saints (Sihtric x reader)

Summary: One day you stumble upon your childhood friend, Osferth, whom you have not seen in years. Yet the more time you spend with him, the more you find yourself drawn to his companion, Sihtric….and the butterflies his dark eyes give you.

This is my contribution to @emilyhufflepufftlk 100 followers challenge! Congratulations again! I’m so happy for you! 

My prompt was - "Love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints." - Lin-Manuel Miranda, Hamilton (in bold within the story)

Words: 5500

Warnings: A couple of swear words, fluff, my poor attempts at humor, Osferth being a good bro. 

Tag List: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @flowers-in-your-hayr​

This gorgeous moodboard was made by @flowers-in-your-hayr​. All credit goes to her! 

"...so there she was, aye, and next thing I know, she flips 'er dress up and I see the most perfect set of…."

 "I'm going to be sick." Osferth mumbled to himself, trying to block out Finan's retelling of his prior night. To the laughter of his companions, he started to push away from the outdoor table at the alehouse. He was no virgin anymore, Finan and Uhtred had seen to that, but he still felt squeamish when listening to their stories of recent conquests. His mother's voice whispered in the back of his mind, things she had told him before her passing, about respect and love. Plus, he could not help but think that this idea of conquests, of women's worth derived from what pleasure a man could take from their bodies, was what brought bastards into this world….like him. 

 "Alright, Finan, we get it. You saw the arse of a goat and couldn't help yourself." Uhtred teased, slinging an arm around Osferth so he could not escape them- most likely to find a church and pray for their souls. 

 "Oi, lord! Ya know that was one time!" Finan feigned mock-outrage, making Uhtred and Sihtric laugh. 

 Osferth put a hand over his eyes as if that would somehow block the image from his mind. Something he desperately did not want there. 

 "How much longer are we here, lord?" Sihtric asked, changing the subject, while twirling a dagger between his hands fluidly. 

 Although Osferth would never admit it aloud, and God forgive him, it was hard not to be jealous of how easily his companions handled their weapons like they had been born with weapons in hand. They continued to tell him it was practice. Recently though, he decided it was a gift that he clearly did not have. 

 "Until I feel satisfied with the training of Lord Godwin's fyrd and his defenses." Uhtred stated indifferently, as if it was something he had to repeat to himself often. 

 "Ya think King Alfred knew how much of a horse's arse Lord Godwin is?"

 Uhtred glanced up, a tiny smirk on his lips. "Probably."

 "But he knew you were the man for the job." Osferth commented. Not necessarily to defend his father but to hopefully bolster Uhtred's confidence. "The men respect you, even if their lord fails to acknowledge his own respect."

 "The baby monk is right." Finan said. "What else needs to be done for the town?"

 Uhtred and Finan began discussing ideas and strategies, Sihtric adding an occasional comment but mostly just listening. 

 Osferth found his attention wandering, since this was an area outside of his expertise. His gaze drifted to the town and its residents who moved about to complete their duties under the midday sun. Their group had only been in this large town for two days and already Osferth was keen to return to Coccham. 

 From amidst the crowd, a familiar face caught his attention. The world tilted off its axis as his entire body went rigid, all his focus zeroed in on her. His heart hammered in his chest and the air whooshed from his lungs painfully. 

 "Y/n?" He muttered to himself, disbelief and shock clearly painted in his tone and on his face. 

 "Baby monk, ya alright?"

 Finan's words did even register, so consumed by the ghost before him. Rapidly, he slid off the bench, almost losing his footing when he went to stand, but pressed on, hurrying towards her. 

 "Y/n!" He called, an almost desperate tone in his yell. 

 When she did not turn around, he shouted louder. "Y/N!" 

 That time she paused, then slowly turned to find him standing still amongst those walking around him, a solid rock in a stream of people. He held his breath as he intently watched her expression, suddenly worried seeing him would not be as meaningful as he hoped. He could see her utter his name silently, eyes wide. Then in the next moment, she dropped the basket on her hip and ran towards him. He opened his arms just in time for her to collide with him, and with her embrace, a painful wave of nostalgia and guilt crashed over him with the strength of a tempest. 

 "It's really you." She finally whispered, peering at him in awe. 

 "Hi." He smiled, his own shock clouding his mind from forming coherent sentences.  

 Then to his surprise, she reared back and punched him in the arm. 

 "Ouch! What was that for?" He whined, rubbing the offended limb. 

 Throwing her hands in the air, they landed on her hips as her voice rose in anger. "For disappearing in the middle of the night without telling me!"

 "I did tell you."

 "That you were THINKING about leaving, not that you WERE leaving!" She reared back and punched him in the arm again, ignoring his pained cry as she continued to berate him. "I spent an entire day running around the monastery trying to find you only for Father Harold to finally pull me aside and tell me you left for Wincheaster." 

 And there was the heaping of guilt he knew he deserved. "I'm sorry….I just….I just knew if I didn't leave that night, then I never would."

 Her face softened at his quiet admission, understanding passing in her eyes. "I know. I wasn't truly surprised…. Just wish you'd have told me before."

 "I'm sorry."

 She sighed, all anger and frustration disappearing, much to his relief. She was a force to be reckoned with when truly in her fury. "So, what are you doing here?"

 "Ah, traveled here with the Lord Uhtred to assist Lord Godwin in his defenses….or something."

 "Uhtred? That Uhtred?"

 He smiled at her, catching the reverence in her tone. "That very one."

 "How did you find him? How did you join him? Wait! Are you a warrior now? We have a lot to talk about and you better get started." There went the hands on her hips again, making his smile widen at the image. Even as a young girl, when her hands were on her hips, you knew she meant business. 

 "Would you like to meet him first?"

 A shy look passed over her face that he was unused to seeing. "I'm…. I'm not presentable to meet a lord."

 He scanned her, noting the dried mud on the hem of her dress and shoes, the small smear of what looked like flour on her left temple. What he noticed most was how the years had made her even more beautiful. She had always been a pretty girl but now, she truly looked like a beautiful woman. A fact he was unsure of how to feel about. 

 He chuckled lightly after a moment. "Well, you certainly smell better than Lord Uhtred so I think it's fine."

 That caused her to tip her head back and laugh loudly, the desired effect of his comment. She gathered up her basket and walked next to Osferth, back to the table where his companions were. It was impossible to ignore their curious stares as they approached. 

 "Lord Uhtred, may I introduce y/n. Y/n, this is Lord Uhtred of Bebbanburg." Osferth said, standing next to her at the end of the table.

 Uhtred nodded graciously, clearly wondering why this woman mattered and why Osferth was introducing her. 

 "Oh, it's an honor to meet you!" Y/n gushed, a bright smile on her face. "Uncle Leofric told us so much about you, but I never thought I'd ever meet you in person."

 "Leofric?" That caught his lord's attention, his gaze narrowing and eyeing her with renewed interest. "How did you know that turd?"

 "When he came to visit Osferth, he'd tell us stories."

 "Ah….all exaggerated, of course." Uhtred said with a cocky smirk. 

 "Wait. I think we're missin' the most important thing here." Finan leaned forward, dark eyes bouncing between Osferth and her, as he pointed a finger at them, hand still wrapped around his cup. "Ya said 'Uncle Leofric'....are ya related to Osferth?"

 Osferth answered quickly. "No, her family owned the farm next to the monastery, so we grew up together." Then he furrowed his brows as a thought hit him. He had been so amazed to see his childhood best friend (only friend really) that he had not realized that she should be back at the farm and not in this town. "Wait, y/n, why are you here and not at the farm?"

 Her face crumpled for a brief second before she was able to mask it into a neutral expression. She shrugged casually, but he could read the subtle tension in the action. "We lost the farm, so mother and I came here to look for work."

 "Ah." There were so many things he wanted to ask but could tell now was not the right time. If she lived here, he would have plenty of time to hear the full story later. Instead he decided to change the subject. "So, you know Lord Uhtred, the others are Finan and Sihtric…. And Sihtric is also a bastard." He added as an afterthought. 

 That made her face light up as she turned to look at the Dane. "Hey, another bastard! We really need to start a club. We can all rant about how awful our fathers are."

 "You're a bastard?" Uhtred asked, shock evident in his voice. 

 "Yes, my lord. My mother was a servant for a lord. Got pregnant. The lord's wife did not like that so sent my pregnant mother back to her family. Certainly, it was our Lord's Will because how else would I have been able to grow up with Osferth?" She asked, patting him on the cheek affectionately. He blushed and swatted her hand away, much to the other's amusement. 

 "I reckon you have quite a few amusin' stories of growin' up with Osferth, eh?" Finan smirked. 

 "I might….but I don't share secrets for free." She matched his smirk with her own crooked smile. 

 He slapped his hand on the table. "I'll owe ya a drink! I need to 'ear this."

 "No….oh no, no, no." Osferth said but knew it was a lost cause before he even tried to deter them. The rest were already deciding when and where to meet that night. "Lord help me."

 "It's not that bad." She teased, bumping his arm with hers. "The worst one is when we went streaking naked through the monastery."

 Osferth felt his face heat up like the flames of hell itself as everyone laughed. "It was your idea."

 "Yeah, yeah, so you like to remind me." She smiled fondly. "Now, if I don't get back home, my mother is going to think I've run off with some man or I've been kidnapped. Either way, she will raise the fyrd herself to find me. I will see you all tonight."

 The others said their goodbyes but before she could step too far away, Osferth gently touched her arm, halting her movement. 

 "Y/n….I'm….I'm glad our paths have crossed once again."

 She pulled him into a tight embrace. "I am too, Osferth. I've missed you." With that, she turned and walked away with her basket still on her hip; but not without glancing over her shoulder at the group before disappearing around some buildings. 

 Once out of sight, Osferth sighed and turned back to his companions, only to see them all still staring intently in the direction she disappeared. 

 "No….y/n is off-limits to you fornicators." He stated firmly, well as firmly as he could be. 

 "She's very pretty…." Uhtred declared, a playful grin on his face. 

 "Lord, no. All of you, keep your hands off of her."

 "Or what?" Finan chuckled, eyes alight with mischief. "You'll fight us, baby monk?"

 "I will if I must."

 "Alright. Her dignity won't be tarnished." Uhtred lifted his cup in Osferth's direction. "Your reputation might be tonight depending on what stories she shares." 

 Osferth groaned, sitting back down next to his lord. "I'm going to need a lot of ale."

 "That can certainly be arranged!" Finan laughed, jovial once more. 

 As discussion started back up again, they all missed the silent, longing glance Sihtric snuck one last time in the direction she walked away….

 *****

 Over the next several weeks Lord Uhtred helped increase the defenses of the town and instructed the guards and fyrd how to better defend against the Danes. 

 During those weeks, you found yourself frequently spending time with Osferth and his companions. First it started off with meeting them in the evenings for ale, laughter and good company. Within days, it became almost expected for one of them to purposefully seek you out. Most of the time it was Osferth and Sihtric coming to join you in whatever your tasks for the day because they were bored or unwanted in meetings. It was not difficult to tell that although they were certainly welcomed members of Uhtred's group, not everyone else saw them in such a positive light. 

 So the three of you often passed the hours away together, waiting until evening to rejoin Uhtred and Finan at the alehouse. Their presence became such a regular occurrence that your mother practically adopted them, they even had their assigned seats at your small kitchen table for meals. Somehow, they seamlessly slipped into your daily life in a way that seemed like they were meant to be there this whole time. 

 Even at the alehouse in the evenings, you usually found yourself nestled between Osferth and Sihtric on the bench. A place you certainly found yourself enjoying more and more….especially next to the Dane. 

 Over the weeks, there was something growing between you and the Dane. It gradually revealed itself with each passing day, growing like the roots of an oak tree. It was through the borderline flirtatious comments that you teased each other with. It was in the subtle touches that caused butterflies in your stomach to dance, from your fingers barely gracing each other when passing something, to the way you leaned your head on his shoulder when your eyelids threatened to close, to the way your thighs would touch under the table and away from view of the others. It was in the lingering looks when your gazes locked and you swore you never wanted to look away. It was in the consistency of being next to one another whenever you could, either sitting at a table or just walking down the street, almost like your bodies were magnetized to one another's. 

 Plus the more you talked to Sihtric, the more you desired to know about him. For he was like no other man you had ever met. 

 Almost a fortnight after you reunited with Osferth, there was one particular evening after staying out far too late with the four men and drinking a bit too much, Sihtric graciously offered to walk you back home. You knew propriety demanded Osferth should be the one to escort you but he was already passed out, head on the table and snores emitting from his mouth. Giggling at your childhood friend, you accepted Sihtric's offer and the two of you easily fell into step. 

 On the walk you learned more about his past, about going up in Dunholm and his cruel father. You had heard bits and pieces while with Osferth and the others. Maybe it was under the cover of darkness, maybe it was the extra ale flowing through both of your blood, but he confessed secrets to you he had never told another besides his mother. When you reached your home, before he could slip away, you clutched his arm and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. After, you bid him goodnight and slipped inside your humble home. 

 After that night, he always walked you home, sometimes alone and sometimes one of the others would join. But when it was just you two, when you were alone, you would bid him a goodnight with a kiss on the cheek or he would kiss your hand, locking eyes with you in a way that made a fire stir in your belly and your core clench. 

 There was definitely something between the two of you, but neither seemed able to verbalize it or take the next step. 

 *****

 "So, what is going on between you and Cedric?" 

 You turned your head to look at Osferth, who laid on the grass next to you, soaking in the heat of the early afternoon sun. "What?"

 "You know….that blacksmith. The one you were talking to the other day."

 "Oh." The memory hit you. You had stopped by to drop off your mother's damaged cooking pot for Cedric to attempt in fixing, although you personally thought it was a helpless cause. The dent in it was significant, but he offered to see what he could do. As you dropped it off at his workshop, the two of you began discussing an approaching saint's day and the celebration that would occur with it. 

 Several minutes later, you heard your name called and looked over to see Osferth and Sihtric walking towards you. You bid Cedric a farewell, promising to stop by the next day to come pick up the pot. After receiving his promise to try his best at fixing it, you headed off towards the stables with your fellow bastards. At the time, you had not thought the encounter significant but with it happening two days ago and Osferth now bringing it up, you wondered how long he had been ruminating on it. 

 Finally, you simply said, "he's a good man, and has been kind to my mother and I since we arrived here."

 "Is he….pursuing you?" Osferth turned his head to scrutinize you, his lips pursed slightly as if concerned about your answer. 

 You openly laughed at the notion. "No, that's silly. He is just a kind man."

 If anything, you had to fend off flirtatious advancements from some of the young men that worked under Cedric. Those same young men quickly learned to keep their eyes on their work and mouths shut. When one openly called out to you, and before you could offer a sharp retort, Cedric threw a hammer at him from across the shop. He bellowed that he did not allow heathens to work for him and if they chose to act godless then they needed to find a new place of work. Their blatant interest diminished after that and Cedric made a point to be the only one that conversed with you if you came to the shop. Although he was easily ten years your senior, you found him a likeable man with a quick wit and sarcastic comments that occasionally left you in stitches. 

 The idea of him pursuing you was an amusing idea. He was still a bachelor, never having married, claiming that his work and apprentices kept him far too busy for much else. 

 Your answer appeared to satisfy Osferth. A thoughtful look crossed his face and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but immediately slowly closed it and turned his head back to stare at the blue sky. 

 A stillness settled after your answer, only interrupted by the frequent bird song and the wind through the tall grass. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sun's warmth and just lying around relaxing on the hill outside of the town, away from the hustle and bustle and chores that demanded your attention.  

 "He was watching you like a man who wants a woman." Sihtric stated after a couple minutes of peaceful silence. 

 Startled by his sour tone, you shifted up to look over at the Dane. He sat on the other side of Osferth, one leg propped up and an arm casually slung over it, but his gaze was focused straight ahead, staring off into the distance. Now that you thought about it, over the past two days Sihtric had become more reserved and sullen than you had ever seen. Even his companions commented on it a few times to which he would shrug his shoulders or make an excuse and walk away. You had thought he just missed Coccham, the group having been away for so long, or something happened that made him introspective. It had also not escaped your notice how the prior closeness between you two had halted. Now you wondered if there was something more to his demeanor.  

 "Well, that is most unfortunate for him since I am not interested in him."

 "Does your mother not want you to marry?" Osferth asked, his voice deceptively neutral. 

 Sighing, you leaned back on your hands. Eventually you knew Osferth would bring up the topic, he was your friend after all and you were certainly of marriageable age. Actually far too old to not be married by some people's standards, but you ignored them. "She does but she has told me that she will not force it upon me. She said I should make my own choice….that if I am able, I should choose love."

 You knew your mother offered you that choice in hopes your life would turn out differently than her own. 

 "But if Cedric is a good, kind man….could you not love him….or someone like him?" Osferth pressed. 

 "Perhaps. There are plenty of men I have seen who the church would call a 'good' man but are cruel in their own home, and there are many men who are calloused but it's obvious they love their wife and children. My love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints. I would rather choose a man whom I know loves and cares for me than a man I know is 'good' but carries no love in his heart." You paused, the candid confession rolling off your tongue before you realized it. Sighing, you ran a hand over your hair before quietly saying. "I just….I just want someone that loves me….sinner or saint."

 Not a word was spoken as all three contemplated your statement, the silence hanging heavy like a brewing storm. Tilting your face to the sky, unable to meet the gazes of your companions, you chastised yourself for the candor with which you spoke. Osferth had asked a simple question initially and you chose to make it complicated. They did not need to know how you longed for love, how the hope for it in your potential future was what kept you going. It was foolish and you supposed after this, they would only see you as a silly girl with outlandish dreams of a storybook romance. 

 Finally, Osferth broke the silence. "Well, I shall be praying fervently for this man….hopefully he knows what he is getting into before he marries you."

 You laughed, appreciating his lighthearted comment. Reaching a hand out to smack Osferth's arm, you teased. "Keep that up and you won't be invited to my wedding."

 "Your mother will let me in."

 "Yeah, you're probably right." You glanced over in the direction of the town, regretting that your time away had to end. "I need to head back, those chores won't finish themselves."

 The three of you headed back to the town, quiet contemplation cloaking your group. Yet you feared that whatever spark lay between you and the Dane had been extinguished forever by your unexpected honesty. For still he refused to look your way, keeping his gaze focused forward. If your heart fissured within your chest, you swallowed down the pain. It was better for the spark to die out now then burn brightly only to be smothered later. 

 Or at least that was what you told yourself. 

 *****

 "What you said….about the sinners and the saints…."

 You whirled around, heart leaping into your throat with a silent scream on your tongue. In the small herb garden behind your house, you had thought you were alone. After the awkward conversation on the hill earlier that day, you sought solace in your chores. Thankfully Osferth and Sihtric headed back to meet with their companions on their own accord, leaving you to trudge through your muddled thoughts with all the grace of a newborn foal. 

 Now you found the very person who your thoughts centered on, standing just a few paces from you….and your heart began to race for a very different reason. 

 When his voice trailed off, those dark eyes that set fire licking through your veins dropped to the ground, you quietly stood up from where you had knelt, wiping the dirt from your hands, although you moved no closer. 

 "Sihtric?" You tried to prompt him. 

 "Is it true?" His piercing gaze lifted to meet yours, stealing the very breath from your lungs. "Your love doesn't discriminate?"

 "Yes." You breathed out. 

 He nodded silently before taking a step closer to you. "And what about….what about Danes?"

 Your chest pulled tight at his words, yet a coy smile grew on your lips. The flutter in your belly made your gaze drop for a moment as you tried to stifle the excitement making butterflies dance. Although this was no declaration, it was the closest the two of you had talked about what lay between you. Taking a steadying breath, you prayed this moment would not pass by without confessing the truth that you had harbored in your heart for weeks now. 

 "Not even towards Danes." You shook your head, the smile still on your lips. "And…. There is one I'm becoming quite fond of lately."

 "Yeah?" He took two steps closer, somehow moving cautiously but eating the ground with each determined step. 

 "But….do you think this Dane could be….fond of me?" You softly murmured, feeling as if your heart lay in the palms of your hands for all to see. 

 That last step separating you two disappeared almost before you finished asking your question. His hands ever so gently reached over to take yours, entwining your fingers together. The two of you stood so close, your chests almost touched with each breath you took. Your breathing seemed to cease under the intensity of his gaze and a shiver raced up your spine. Yet you had no desire to withdraw from him.

 "He would be a fool not to." He whispered, the barest hint of a tremble in his voice. "I'd bet you are constantly on this Dane's mind. That he cannot go a day without seeing your face and hearing your laugh. You are the first thought that he wakes to and the reason he falls asleep with a smile. That you have become the north star that it seems the gods have been guiding him towards for his whole life."

  As he spoke, everything faded to oblivion around you. The past and future vanished. Dane versus Saxon disappeared. The world narrowed down to this….this moment….this moment that you had dreamt of but never thought would come true. 

 The two of you continued to stand there, lost in one another's eyes with fingers intertwined. Your heart raced within your chest but a cooling breeze swept away the fears that plagued your mind. For staring at him, you knew he spoke no falsehoods. That he owned your heart just as much as you owned his. That very heart you could feel hammering away in his own chest. His eyes fervently held yours, a silent conversation, a confession, spoken only in looks but you both understood the language. His gaze dipped down to your lips, tracing them before slowly rising once again to your eyes. A curl of pleasure blossomed in your core as you witnessed the fire now in his eyes. 

 "If this Dane wanted to kiss me…. I wouldn't mind."

 A deliciously, sinful smirk teased his mouth. "As my lady commands."

 His head tilted, leaning towards yours. Unconsciously your eyelids fluttered closed. Then the briefest of touches made your knees weak and your mouth part open in a sigh. After a moment's hesitation, he continued to shower your jawline with kisses. Needing to touch him, your hands landed on his chest, feeling the tunic that covered his firm chest. Your hands moved upward to grasp the back of his neck, his pulse jumping for a second as your nails scraped his skin. His hands landed on the curve of your waist, bringing you even closer to him, erasing the unwanted space between your bodies. 

 As his lips began their ascent upward along the otherwise of your jaw, you moved. For the burning sparks in your body screamed if he did not kiss you, you would spontaneously combust. Shifting your face, you stole a kiss on his lips before he could place it on your skin. It was more of a gentle pressing of your mouths, but even then, you heard a sharp inhale from him. Before you could question him, his mouth returned to yours with soft, probing kisses that urged you to respond. Not that you would ever deny him. What started off as a gentle flame quickly became a roaring fire. Breathing became unnecessary, for how could air bring you life when your body craved Sihtric, when your lungs demanded to breathe him in instead. He led you in a drugging kiss that had you melting against him. Your lips drank from one another as if that alone could sustain you forevermore.  

 "THANK YA, GOD!!" 

 The passionate kiss abruptly ended as Sihtric and your gazes darted towards the side of your house. Only to be met with the sight of his three companions standing at the entrance in various states of smugness. 

 "Oh, for the love of Odin…." Sihtric mumbled. 

 You buried your face in Sihtric's chest, face heated in embarrassment but unable to stop the giggles that poured forth. So caught up in finally confessing your feelings and kissing the man who haunted your dreams, you forgot that anyone could walk by and see you. His arms tightened around you, keeping you within his protective, loving embrace….and you knew there was nowhere else you would rather be. 

 "Took the two of ya long enough." Finan continued, leaning against the side of your humble home with a shit-eating grin. 

 "Amen." Osferth had a small, teasing smile on his face. "Thought I would have to lock them in a room together before one of them finally confessed."

 Apparently, you and Sihtric were not as subtle as you previously thought. Now it made sense why Osferth was questioning you about Cedric and your thoughts on love and marriage earlier. Your heart flooded with gratitude towards your childhood friend, for without him you doubted neither Sihtric or you would have spoken up. Peering over, you caught Osferth's eye and mouthed a quick 'thank you'. He nodded, a simple joy radiating from his face. 

 "Lord?" Sihtric called over with a blank expression. "Permission to continue?"

 Uhtred chuckled. "I guess you've waited long enough. Go ahead." 

 Without waiting a moment longer, Sihtric tipped your face back up towards his and claimed your lips once more. You vaguely thought you heard laughter coming from the others but it all blurred away, like a faint sound while underwater. All you could see, all you could feel, all you could hear was Sihtric. 

 Just how you wanted it. 

 Suddenly you yanked your head back, your breathing labored and lips swollen. "My mother is helping at a nearby farm today. She won't be back until it's dark."

 He hummed against your skin trailing small kisses along your jawline and down your neck as if unable to keep his hands and mouth off you now that the dam had been released. 

 "I'm not as pure as Osferth thinks me to be."

 That statement made his actions stop. Carefully he raised his head to meet your gaze. "After dark?" He confirmed, voice rough in a way that sent a bolt of heat through you. 

 "Yes, she planned on having supper with them….so my home is currently empty….and I did just clean my blankets the other day…."

 He swooped in to give you a feverish, greedy kiss that left no doubt where his mind had gone. When he finally pulled back, you were surprised your legs could still hold you upright. Your whole body felt like puddy in his arms and he had only kissed you, albeit you doubted you would ever forget the way his mouth worshiped yours. 

 "You are certain? You want this?" He softly asked, staring into your eyes once more. "You want me?" 

 It was the last question, the vulnerable undertone, the hint of insecurity in it that sealed your decision. Letting your actions be your answer, you grabbed his hand and started pulling him in the direction of the door to your home. It did not take more than a second for him to come beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

 With his taste on your lips, the future did not matter right now. It did not matter that he was Dane and you were not. All you knew was Sihtric was neither a saint nor a sinner, but simply a man deserving of love. The river of your love was pointing you directly towards him, and you silently vowed to never let it run dry. 

[awesomefroggy]

The Mighty Nein's MtG Decks

Because apparently my current niche is oddly specific headcanons and also @fluffmonger asked. These are all gonna be commander decks because that's what I play. @qumulox helped too.

Fjord- Galea, Kindler of Hope. Equipment tribal to the max, with all kinds of Hexproof this and Protection from [COLOR] that. He has strong feelings on deck composition and ratios, and he's very meticulous about it. He keeps everything in Dragon Shield sleeves and Boulder boxes color coordinated with the deck's colors, and he's had the one same UltraPro playmat for years and doesn't see why people change them.

Beau- Yuriko, the Tiger's Shadow. Just to be rude as hell. You'd think she'd have a monk deck, but they're too slow and don't pack enough oomph. Beau will claim she just tossed it together, but in reality she spent hours on EDHRec and Reddit pulling together an optimized list. She's got one of the schmancy premuim leather mats that's cobalt blue, but she balances out the bougie by using $3 UltraPro sleeves.

Caleb- Yes. That isn't a card name, Caleb is just 100% your deck brewing buddy who never keeps a deck longer than two meetups and is constantly noodling with something new. Sometimes it's aggressively potent. Sometimes it's trash. Sometimes he makes a Group Huh?? deck just for shits and giggles. But you can always count on him playing on a pristine cat themed playmat, and his Satin Towers are somehow always immediately damaged.

Veth- Grenzo, Dungeon Warden. Full aggressive red/black that is just mean (and she thinks it's funny to use the Goblin Rogue). Flood the board with dudes, and as many sacrifice spells as needed. She throws Treasure mechanics in there for funsies and uses buttons as the tokens. She doesn't sleeve her deck or use a playmat, if only to watch Caleb wince as she riffle shuffles.

Jester- Toski, Bearer of Secrets. Jester has a squirrels deck because of course she does. She also makes decks based on the art, and they're much better than they have any right to be. The sleeves? Custom printed with Traveler art. The playmat? She did her own rendition of the cover of Tusk Love and got that custom printed too. Jester also paints custom card alters.

Molly- Nymris, Oona's Trickster. His whole theme is just stacking his deck and doing card tricks with anything that has Flash. The whole deck is either foil, Secret Lairs, and/or whatever he finds the prettiest, but also he keeps the whole thing in Pokémon sleeves he traded a kid for and he plays on a Vanguard mat that got left behind at a shop. The deck is in a sandwich bag and he never bothered to get a tube for the mat. Side note, Molly is 100% the type of person who has a very nicely proxied Black Lotus in a penny sleeve with a staple through it just to fuck with people.

Caduceus- The Gitrog Monster. This firbolg can play so much Golgari. It's all life, death, the land, pulling things from the graveyard, building from what you sacrifice. Caduceus keeps his cards neatly in nice mint Dragon Shields and a pretty wood and resin box he found on Etsy. He plays on a cloth playmat he found there too.

Kingsley- Zacama, Primal Calamity. Kingsley made a dinosaur deck in Ixalan and was set for life. He also threw a treasure subtheme into his just for giggles. Kingsley picked some anime sleeves for something he'd never heard of before because he thought it was hilarious, and his playmat was swiped from a freebie bag of Playmats Long Lost at a game shop. A habit that goes across souls? Keeping decks in a sandwich bag.

Yasha- Oloro, Ageless Aescetic. It's just a numbers game. Yasha really only plays because her friends do, so she just gains life until she gets bored and starts slamming people with Aetherflux Reservoir. She's got a beautiful mat that is a print of Jester’s flower mural, and she's got awesome lighting bolt sleeves.

Essek- Sen Triplets This man is not here to fuck around. It's just hard control all the way down. He's got a Grand Arbiter Augustin IV in there "because it's synergistic." Listen man. Essek Thelyss is that rude bitch who rolls up with a leather gaming bag, a vermaloc purple heart deck box and a purple leather playmat and custom sleeves and has the nerve to turn his nose up at your UltraPro mat.

[parvulous-writings]

Blaze // Liu Kang X Reader

Request:    yes so I'd like to make a request-More Liu Kang.I'm not obsessed what do you mean PPFffTtt  Oh I forgot to mention, for the request I made, can it be something fluffy? Perhaps the prompt: 'here, have this. You will be warmer.'

Requested by: @rey-is-not-a-skywalker​​

Summary: the request- fluffy oneshot using the prompts ‘here, have this. you will be warmer.’

Warnings: None

Words: 1K

Notes:  I’ve been waiting for this one! Time to put the 5 hours of watching this film on repeat to some use! My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!

Not my gif

It had not been a good day, regarding the weather. It was unusually cold; the sky was overcast and a deep shade of grey, rolling clouds covering any sign of direct sunlight. It was unusual weather, but you had become rather well accustomed to the unusual whilst staying in Raiden’s temple. You were currently standing on one of the small balcony-esque alcoves, staring up at the dull sky, your eyes searching desperately for any sign of a change in weather, preferably something warmer. You rested your chin on one hand, sighing deeply. You never liked days like this- the days that were cold. They zapped you of almost all motivation, even though you knew that moving around would warm you up, you just couldn’t bring yourself to. You started to curl in on yourself, trying to retain at least some of your body warmth.  Eventually you pushed yourself away from the wall, starting off down one of the many hallways of the temple, your arms wrapping around yourself to try and regain the heat you had lost. All the hallways of the temple look practically the same. The same placement of sconces, the same decor, all of it. The only real differences you could see, after months of residing there, were small inflections in the direction of the hallways. You had only just started to notice them, but the monks and other residents of the sacred place knew the layout like the back of their hand. 

You were quick to move through the almost endless maze of hallways, heading towards your quarters. Perhaps you could wrap yourself in a warm robe or blanket. Whilst wrapped up in your thoughts, you accidentally brush shoulders with another figure. Thinking it was just a monk, you look up to offer an apology, but you were instead were greeted with the kind face of Liu Kang. “Oh, Liu,” You greeted, a small smile creeping onto your face as his name passed your lips. “My apologies... I was wrapped up in my own thoughts.”  “It is quite alright.” Liu gave a brief, respectful bow as he spoke, his prayer beads clacking quietly with the movement. He gave you a look over, and his brow temporarily furrowed. “Are you alright?” He asked you, putting a hand on your shoulder. Even through the fabric of your Gi you could feel the warmth of his palm. It was quite comforting, and you couldn’t help but silently wish for more, something to shield you from the cold.  “Yes, thank you...” You found his concern rather endearing. “Just a little bit cold.” You admitted to him, and to your surprise he almost looked shocked at this news. You supposed that his Arcana helped to protect him against the cold and whipping winds that were trying their best to course through the temple.  “Cold?” He echoed, turning his gaze away for a moment as he tried to think. “Come with me.” He urged you, offering his hand to you, and gesturing down the hallway. Hardly thinking twice, you take his hand, and your skin is graced with the warm and unadulterated feeling of his own. He gently guides you down the hallway you were originally traversing, though he took a different turn to what you had originally planned. 

Liu was leading you towards his quarters, a few hallways over from your own, opening the door slowly once you stood outside it, and slipping inside as he dropped your hand for a moment. He started to look around in his meticulously tidy room for something in particular. Eventually he found it; an old faded burgundy blanket. It was clean, although had a few marks of soot- though you attributed that to Liu picking it up and moving it around, probably on more than one occasion. His hands and forearms always seemed to be covered in a thin layer of the dark dust. “Here,” He held out the item for you to take it, to warm yourself a little with it. “Take it, you will be warmer.” He assured you, offering a smile. You tried to decline it- for some odd reason you thought that it seemed precious to him. He shook his head slowly at you, and moved closer, to drape it over your shoulders. “You should not refuse help in a time of need.” He advised you. His voice was firm, but you knew that he meant well to you, he always did.  “It’s not that, it’s-”  “You were cold.” Liu interrupts, holding up a hand to silence you. “You were cold, and I wished to help you.” He elaborated, gesturing towards the blanket on your shoulders, a sweet glint in those dark eyes of his. “Now... How are you feeling?” He asked, his voice taking back that calm and caring tone, wanting a genuine answer from you. You nod slowly to reply to him. “Yes, I’m a little better, thank you, Liu.” “A little?” He quizzed, his brow furrowing briefly again, before he got an idea. “Come, this way, here.” He ushered you further into his room, gesturing for you to take a seat upon his comforter, which you hesitantly did. 

Liu sat beside you on the bed, pulling both legs up so that he sat with one crossed over the other, placing his hand palm up on his knee. After a moment, a flicker danced across his skin, before growing into a beautiful little flame. It flared briefly, sending a small wave of heat in your direction. You shuffled a little bit closer to Liu, worming your hands from out of the blanket to put your palms close to the flames.  “Is that better?” He asked you, giving you a small, sweet smile. You nodded a little bit, returning the expression. “I thought so... You looked chilled to the bone.” He chuckled gently, glancing out the small window briefly, checking on the weather. “It looks like a storm is rolling in.” He thought aloud, “You are more than welcome to stay with me if that’s the case.” Liu turned his gaze back to you, “I can keep you warm during the bad weather.” He offered, “If not, I understand... But please, keep the blanket.” He told you.  “Thank you, Liu.” You wrapped the fabric a little tighter around yourself as he finished talking.  “You are most welcome.” Liu replied simply, the light flickering and dancing over the surfaces of your skin in the low light, warming the both of you. 

[aceofwhump]

Guys

The Weeping Monk.

The Weeping Monk has become my new obsession. I love him. I knew I would because seeing all the gifs of him in tumblr is why I watched in the first place I didn't not expect for him to capture my interest so much. It's not the strongest hyperfixation I've ever had but it is one nonetheless and I'm thrilled. Welcome the list of "Ace's Favorite Whumpees"!!

SPOILERS ALERT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Seriously I got ramble and let some spoilers loose so if you want to watch it still and don't want spoilers just keep scrolling

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So not only is Daniel Sharman fucking gorgeous but Daniel Sharman looking like this?

With the eyes and the hood and the darkness and the scruff. Oh hell yeah! He's like some omen of death with that cloak. I love it.

So why do I like the Weeping Monk so much?

Well first of all I LOVE A GOOD REDEMPTION STORY!!!!! Like so much! I blame Zuko for that. But if you give me a bad dude who's done some bad shit but also has one hell of a traumatic past then put him on a path of redemption and healing? I’M SOLD! And at the end of the season, The Weeping Monk has been set on his redemption beginnings and I will die if Netflix doesn't give us a season 2 so I can see this boy walk his new path towards redemption and healing. I crave it.

But anyway. This man right here. The emotional angst and whump he exudes is so lovely.

Towards the end of the season we find out that he's Fey and I fucking lost my shit. This boy is a Fey who was raised by the people who hate Fey. His people were killed and he was taken as a child by the same people who murdered them. He was then brainwashed to believe he was demon born and evil and a sinner purely for existing and was taught to punish himself for it (he whips himself in a form of self flagellation!) and I'm sure he was punished for all sorts of things growing up by his "Father". The amount of self hate and self doubt he must feel breaks my heart. He knows he's Fey! He remembers his real name (also that reveal sent me to another plane of existence) so he must have some memories of his family and his people. But he's spent his whole life being used as a weapon against his own people and brainwashed into thinking he was saving them because fey are inherently damned. And that's all he is to the Red Paladins. A weapon. But he sees them as his people, his family because that's all he knows!

This dude is so broken and brainwashed and lost it just breaks my heart.

LOOK AT HIM!! Look at this lost and broken boy!! He just needs some love and affection dammit!! I mean he flat out asks "Do you love me Father?" AHHH!!

And oh my god this conversation between him and Gawain?!

Allow me to share the whole conversation because I need to talk about it.

Gawain: Don’t be afraid Ash Man. I don’t bite. It’s those eyes. The mark of the Ash Fold. There haven’t been any in these lands for centuries. How did you find your way here? Have you just come to watch me die?

The Weeping Monk: Why didn’t you tell them? Before...you could have told them. But you didn’t. Why?

G: Because all Fey are brothers. Even the lost ones

WM: This suffering, it will cleanse you.

G: You parrot these words, but you know it’s all lies. I can feel it in you, my brother.

WM: You are not my brother.

G: They have turned your mind so far inside out...that you don’t know the difference between kindness...and hate. Who did this to you?

WM: We are saving souls. Your soul.

G: Tell that to the little ones that you burn.

WM: I don’t harm the children

G: You burn their homes, you slay their mothers and their fathers, and you watch your Red Brothers run them down on horses. And you see it all through those weeping eyes. That makes you guilty. Brother! You can fight. I’ve never seen anything like it. You could be our greatest warrior. Your people need you.

WM: You are not my people.

G: Then tell them. If this is where you belong, tell them what you are.

WM: I’ll pray for you.

G: And I you.

First of all this conversation is the reason I now ship these two. Just saying. Gawain saw that he was kin, that he was lost, that he was broken and reached out to try and help him even though he is the reason he is being tortured. I can’t with these two! But also, the WM felt guilty about turning him in and worried about his own fate but you can tell that Gawain’s words sink in and set something inside of him and it’s because of Gawain that WM is now on this path of his. AND Gawain! I fully expected him to hate this man after everything hes done but he saw a lost and broken fey brother and tried to help him and I just...Gawain is so good you guys! This whole exchange is just *chefs kiss*. Cause after this the WM saves Squirrel.

Which leads me to Squirrel and the Weeping Monk. The other reason I desperately need season 2 is because I can't wait to see this unexpected pairing. I mean come on, big bag tough guy with trauma becomes unexpectedly joined with a young child? Best trope ever. Plus he got his ass kicked pretty bad and I need season 2 start off with that so I can see Squirrel take care of this injured man. Anyway, these two are going to have a great adventure getting back to the Fey and I NEED TO SEE IT!!! I want to see Squirrel and Lancelot bond and Squirrel defend him against Fey who hate him and for Lancelot to reluctantly become attached and defensive of this Fey boy and AHHHHHH!!

Oh and side note: One of my favorite tropes occurred. Defeated in battle, manhandled to their knees and hood pulled off revealing their bruised and bloody face. God yes please.

Time for some headcanons:

Okay he's totally touch starved am I right? This boy hasn't known a kind touch in his whole life. Pain is all he's known. The Paladins only touch to punish him or wield him. And he thinks he deserves it. He deserves the pain. The punishment. But kindness? A soft touch? Someone tending his injuries gently? He doesnt know what to do it that. He ends up stiffening or flinching away from the blinds hands of the fey, confused at first but slowly he starts to crave that kind touch.

Squirrel is always hugging him. Like whenever he sees him. And WM doesnt know what the fuck to do with that. You think he ever for hugged? I DOUBT IT! So hes all stiff and awkward and kind of bears it but after a while he starts hugging back kind of awkwardly.

Oh and speaking of tending his injuries I can almost guarantee that he has either had to tend to his own injuries in the past or he didn't do anything for them at all. But he's in a Fey camp now and the Fey help each other so when he and squirrel first show up at the camp and a he's taken to a healer and at first he balks and is like "I'm fine" but people like Pym and Squirrel and Gawain (YES GAWAIN! I have thoughts hang on) are like clearly you're not so just sit down before fall down again and let Pym heal you! AND then we get a scene of them all seeing the scars and fresh lashes and being horrified

Okay Gawain. He's not dead and he and Lancelot become best bros (or lovers cause I kind of ship them so much. Forget Nimulot. It's Gawain and Lancelot all the way) and Gawain protects him from the Fey who want to kill him after Squirrel and Lancelot arrive at the makeshift Fey camp and he's taken prisoner. Gawain watches him and see his humanity and goodness and self hate and trauma and Lancelot has someone who sees him as a "brother" as someone lost but not irredeemable and they fall in love okay bye

His powers as one of the Ash Folk. We know he can track. But from what we saw what if he's also got some camouflage or healing abilities hes never explored. NEVER EXPLORED BECAUSE HE THOUGHT IT A MANIFESTATION OF HIS INNER DEMON!!!

Also, I saw these two onset pics and now I'm ready for this to be s2 WM and Squirrel.

Okay rant over. Sorry. Bye now ✌

[patton-ly-absurd]

Spear of light, Sword of darkness

First Previous

part seven?!

Damian stayed quiet through the whole meeting with his father, he had nothing to say. His whole purpose of being was the league, he always knew that, but it wasn’t the league he was loyal to, it was,- he was pulled out of his thoughts by Talia speaking. “He’ll stay with you then?” Damian looked up at the man before him, he didn’t seem like anything special. Sure he looked like he had money, but Damian really didn’t understand how he was supposedly the best option for the head of the league.

“That’s fine with me, I would have to have a room set up and introduce him to the others but it's fine. Let me make a few calls,” The man turned away presumably to talk to the “others” he mentioned before. “Yes. Dick, just get the others in the main room, you probably already know why,” “This is something you do often then?” Apparently the man on the other end of the phone heard him because he started laughing hysterically. Eventually Bruce sighed and hung up.

On the ride to the manor Damian fought to think about anything other than the event that happened just a week before. Anything was better than reliving those moments. He focused on the lights around him, red, green, blue and sometimes even… purple. He flashed back to the purple glow radiating off of the monk’s hand and Thea convulsing on the ground screaming. He shakes his head to stop his thoughts, but then he realized something ‘she dropped her spear didn’t she ,if it’s still there then she’s...’ but once again he was taken out of his thoughts, for they had arrived at the manor.

The man who had driven them got out of the car and opened the car door for Damian. The man said something in English that he did not understand. “Father tell me what this man said, I do not know English so I do not understand him,” Bruce responded in Arabic “ This is Alfred Pennyworth, he was introducing himself. He is our butler,” Damian studied the man, he looked to be of British descent, and around the age of sixty. He didn’t look to be any type of threat so he didn’t need to worry about that. Damian simply nodded then having nothing to say.

Once the group got inside the manor they were bombarded by three young men. Each looking about two years apart, with the oldest looking at most eighteen. The oldest one walked over and introduced himself. “Hi! My name’s Richard Grayson, but most people just call me Dick. These are my brothers Jason Todd, and Tim Drake. Neither of them understand Arabic yet so that’s why I’m introducing them,”

Damian loathed this entire situation, but Grayson seemed like a genuinely nice guy, ‘if not an obnoxious one,’ the part of his brain said. Damian forced that thought out of his brain. As much as he tried to pretend the events of the last week weren’t real they were, and if Thea was dead, he would at least do what she asked of him, he would become a good man. For some reason he thought that he would have to start here, he was going to try to understand these people who were supposedly his family. No matter how annoying they may be. Because if that’s not how you become a good person then, how do you?

A few months later, it was safe to say he was struggling. He didn’t understand this new environment. People spoke so openly about so many things, they talked about mundane things like dinner or what the itinerary had on it. He didn’t understand it and eventually he asked “Why do you people talk about such mundane and unimportant things? Isn’t speaking something that is a privilege or what other?” The others in the room, who were mostly fluent in Arabic at this point, if not perfect at the pronunciation, looked at each other before Todd of all people spoke up “Demon spawn-” as they had begun to call him, that was another thing he didn’t understand. ‘What are these ‘nicknames’ they speak of I have a name for a reason,’ He would think whenever he got called that “-Where you were before, were you not allowed to speak?” Damian looked at Todd, he seemed concerned and confused, “That is correct, Is that abnormal?” Dick is the one that spoke up this time “Damian, not only is that not normal, that’s abuse, like really bad abuse, especially when it’s done to a child,” Damian didn’t really understand what the word meant, he would look it up later, but he had a feeling it was a bad thing. What didn’t know could hurt him apparently, that’s something he’d had hammered home to him twice that year. But with Thea, he wanted to hope she was alive, and searching for evidence, he didn't want to prove that she wasn’t. But he had to, if there was a chance that she was alive he had to know. Even if it broke what little he had left.

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[monstersdownthepath]

Demigod Dossier: Velstrac Demagogues, part 1

Pictured: Aroggus, the Abbey-Maker

Lawful Evil Mad Artists of the Shadow Plane

The Complete Book of the Damned, pg. 120~121 Additional information is also present in Adventure Path: Return of the Runelords: The City Outside of Time, pg. 74~79

Our second-ever Demigod Dossier, now fully in-swing! The Velstrac Demagogues are the rulers of the Shadow Plane and all the lives within, though many of said lives within aren’t really fans of them. Natives to the Netherworld find the presence of the Velstrac an annoyance at best and a threat to their lives at worst, and would much prefer if they went back to Hell where they came from, but unfortunately for everyone everywhere they don’t appear too eager to throw themselves into the jaws of the inferno just yet. Instead, they’re busy throwing themselves into the jaws of one another.

The Demagogues represent the pinnacle of a specific subset of the Velstrac’s twisted senses of ‘art’ and ‘perfection,’ either because they’ve mutilated themselves into something wholly unlike anything else that can, did, or could exist, or they’ve pioneered a form of artistry that other Velstrac couldn’t even conceptualize in the first place and gathered a fandom. It takes some very twisted, alien forms of thinking to become a Demagogue and get others rallied behind you, even moreso because the Velstrac themselves are, putting it kindly, completely out of their gourd. When your audience already expects the insane and outlandish, you have to go even further, and many of the fiends you’ll soon see have.

We’ll only be covering four in this initial post, with the rest to be saved for later...

Demagogues view mortals as little more than primal clay to be shaped, and thus see little worth in investing true divine power into them, worshipers receive Boons that are are relatively simple: a trio of spell-like abilities, each of which may be used 1/day. Boons are normally gained slowly, at levels 12, 16, and 20, however entering the Evangelist, Exalted, or Sentinel Prestige Classes can see the Boons gained as early as levels 10, 13, and 16. Note that while they are Lawful Evil fiends originally from Hell, they are not devils, thus you cannot enter the Diabolist Prestige Class to obtain their Boons without DM fiat.

Aroggus, the Abbey-Maker

Demagogue of Possibility, Revenge, and Sanctuary Domains: Evil, Law, Protection, Trickery Subdomains: Deception, Defense, Fear, Tyranny

Obedience: List the names of those who have wronged you until the writing covers a page, then consume the parchment. Benefit: Gain a +4 profane bonus on saving throws to resist compulsion effects.

What a completely normal, sane, and healthy thing to do! As the first of the Demagogues to flee from Hell, Aroggus is EXTREMELY angry at the devils for locking them up in the first place. Angry enough to want revenge on the whole of the diabolic race, as well as the Asura... Angry enough that he hasn’t yet even started getting around to enacting his revenge, instead just constantly thinking about and refining it as if no iteration of suffering is perfect enough to match his fury.

True to form, he wants you to ruminate in your anger rather than doing anything to enact your vengeance, blacking out a page with the names (or just one name) of all who’ve wronged you no matter how petty or insignificant the inconvenience they may have caused. Unfortunately, no two ways about it, you’re going to look insane (in the literal definition of the term) doing this every day, especially if you only have one or two people who’ve wronged you enough to get onto your list. Scrawling their name, front AND back, until the page is filled and then eating it is behavior that will raise eyebrows no matter who you’re adventuring with. Best to keep this one behind closed doors. Make sure you have a glass of activated charcoal after, because all of that ink day after day (unless you write with, I don’t know, berry juice or blood) is going to do amazingly terrible things to your constitution.

The benefit is good. Compulsions are typically Save-Or-Suck effects, so having more Save means less Suck for you later on. It’s useful at any point in your adventure, so I can’t say anything bad about it! My only wish is that it was a little stronger, since some other gods give +4 vs compulsion and charm effects.

Boon 1: Nondetection Boon 2: Forcecage Boon 3: Imprisonment

Nondectection is a good spell for those times when you need to sneak by diviners, hide magic items from scrutiny, avoid the gaze of a Paladin who’s a little too judicious with Detect Evil, or to add another layer of shroud over Invisibility and the like. It’s a spell that’s a pain to prepare every single day, but useful to have when you need it... but you only have one casting of it per day, so using it wisely is paramount. Ironically, it combines well with your own Divination to find out if you’ll even need it later.  More often than not you won’t be using it at all except to idly ward yourself when going into town or diving into a dungeon.

Forcecage is a completely different animal, the offensive and defensive applications of the spell simply mind-blowing, to the point that keeping this to just one paragraph to save space is going to take some herculean effort on my part! So, the basics: Forcecage has two versions, both of which halt all movement through them: A 20ft square of force bars that allow spells, projectiles, and line-of-effect through, and a 10ft cube that blocks line-of-effect and all forms of magic and supernatural abilities. A Forcecage is effectively invincible (having Hardness 30 and 20hp/level) and impossible to move, so anyone trapped inside without the ability to teleport is likely to stay there for the spell’s duration. Also, to put it simply, shoving enemies in the cage is the main point, but if you cannot, a 10ft/20ft square is an enormous roadblock to stop up narrow passages with.

Which leaves Imprisonment, a portable hole you can shove all sorts of problems into, which will likely create new problems down the line if the target had anything you needed on them. I recommend knocking out a foe, stripping them of their valuables, and then shoving them into their baby jail for all eternity! With the Freedom spell being the only means to undo Imprisonment (even Wish and Miracle fail), you’ll have no actual way to undo the spell against any target you cast it on for one or two more levels, if at all (depending on the party composition). Make sure to use it only when the villain has no MacGuffins, or is a powerful recurring threat. Imprisonment works on anything and everything capable of failing the Will save (take note, anyone wanting to fight Kaiju, Great Old Ones, or Spawn of Rovagug), which gets a -4 penalty if you know the target’s name and some facts about its life, so famous villains are even more vulnerable to being thrown into the Eternity Marble! 

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Barravoclair, Lady of the Final Gasp

Demagogue of the Elderly, Fatalistic Insights, Resurrection Domains: Death, Evil, Healing, Law Subdomains: Murder, Restoration, Resurrection, Undead

Obedience: Practice breath control, holding your breath until you nearly pass out. Benefit: Gain a +4 profane bonus on checks to resist drowning and on saves against inhaled poisons.

A hell of a step down in terms of unhealthiness in terms of Aroggus, and significantly less suspicious, too. Breath control is practiced by people of all stripes, from athletes to explorers to simple monks attempting more profound meditation. While ‘nearly passing out’ is skirting an edge most people won’t approach, it’s not exactly as dangerous for you as, say, inhaling water or eating poison every day. Without any materials needed, the Lady of the Final Gasp is one of the simplest and probably the single cheapest Obedience ritual one could ask for! There is a minor caveat in that races who can’t breathe can’t technically do this Obedience at all, but those aren’t the audience Barravoclair wants anyway.

Unfortunately, the benefit is as weak as the Obedience is easy to do. Drowning is unlikely to come up as a danger unless you’re physically dragged into the water by a monster (which means holding your breath likely isn’t an option anyway), and inhaled poisons are the least common poison type in the game. Against the odd Catoblepas or Green Dragon it will come in handy, but it’s protection from injury poison you really need, which the Lady of the Final Gasp doesn’t provide.

Boon 1: Speak With Dead Boon 2: Resurrection Boon 3: Soul Bind

Alright, let’s face it. Some days, you need Speak With Dead to keep the plot running smoothly. Whether your overzealous DPS kills everyone in the room, your Fireball-lobbing Sorcerer kills everyone in the room, or your summoner’s unchained beasts kill everyone in the room, chances are at some point in your career you’re going to save the party a lot of headaches by being able to pull answers from a corpse. Having Speak With Dead available every day will likely not matter 80% of the time (meaning you can typically use it at your leisure just before going to bed), but much like with Water Breathing and spells like Remove Curse and Neutralize Poison, having it for those 20% of times you need it can keep the wheels spinning and stop unneeded side quests.

... And speaking of side quests and things you’ll need once in a blue moon, Resurrection? For free? Even 1/day? With the hefty cost of 10,000gp for the normal spell, even a well-off party will feel the impact every single time they have to use Rez, but the removal of the cost ups the power level of the spell by a margin so enormous that it doesn’t really matter what Boon you get before or after this one; THIS boon rewards worship of Barravoclair enough to justify putting up with her empty benefit. Even without factoring in the ability to raise party members, you can now curry favor with people of all stripes and demand all forms of insane payments for your ability to raise centuries-old dead at no cost but time... or do your work for free and call in favors at a later date. Do note, however, that you’ll also need someone else on standby to remove the negative levels/stat drain caused by the resurrection process.

I said it didn’t matter what the third Boon was and I stand by it. Unlike with the free Rez above, Soul Bind’s enormous cost still makes its use as anything but a once-per-campaign finisher of an annoying enemy irritating and unfeasible. Spell-likes normally require no components, but Soul Bind operates in a gray area of the rules in that its focus component becomes the subject for the spell, meaning that a DM can very easily and very rightly say you DO require the  gemstone whose value must equal or exceed the target’s HD x 1,000. Binding even a simple 5 CR creature requires the tall order of a 5,000gp gemstone, and if you want to use it on a target that’s worthwhile, it gets expensive fast. It’s way cheaper and easier to just hire a Cacodaemon. 

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Fharaas, the Seer in Skin

Demagogue of Experience, Murder, and Patterns Domains: Evil, Knowledge, Law, Repose Subdomains: Ancestors, Fear, Memory, Souls

Obedience: Study the interior of a freshly severed limb. Benefit: You are immune to bleed effects that deal 6 damage or less.

This Obedience is deceptively simple for what its implication is. You’d best get yourself a Sack Of Rats or have access to a lot of disposable prisoners (or the Regenerate spell)! But thankfully, there’s some wiggle room in the wording: ‘freshly severed’ means no cheating and using Gentle Repose on the same arm over and over, but it ALSO means you can carry around a single corpse and slowly slice it apart, as the limbs themselves don’t have to be fresh, just freshly cut off for the purpose of the ritual. Also, you can use the bodies of Undead, Constructs, and any other creature that technically has severable limbs! Though Fharaas, the Seer In Skin, will likely punish you if your ritual doesn’t involve the examination of actual flesh.

You’re going to look really weird, is what I’m saying. At least if someone barges in on you, you can claim you’re inspecting them for something or other. Infection, signs of magic, etc, whatever you can come up with to blunt the blow. You can cover yourself moderately well by being a butcher or a hunter in your day job, as the severed limb doesn’t have to be human, or even sapient (hence why I suggest a Sack Of Rats), letting you freely slice up and examine your kills.

Bleed effects are fairly uncommon in the grand scheme of things but are also a pain in the neck to deal with in the middle of battle, so this giving a +4 bonus aga--wait, sorry, hold on no, this isn’t a bonus to saving throws? Or skill checks to heal bleed? It just... Stops them if they deal 6 or less damage? You don’t even have to make a save?

Okay. Okay, alright. So you’re just immune to bleed, then?

More or less, really. There are very few monsters that deal more than d6 bleed damage with their attacks (be warned that higher-level ones can sometimes stack their bleed!), and this ability also works on the rare but dreaded stat bleed, and off the top of my head there are NO monsters that deal more than a d4 dice in stat bleed damage. My main problem is that it doesn’t reduce the bleed damage you take by 6, so taking even 1 more point of bleed damage makes this ability useless. Still, though it’s fairly narrow, being effectively immune to a dangerous and irritating status ailment at level 3 or so (when bleed is at its most threatening) is well worth taking up butchery. 

Boon 1: Keen Edge Boon 2: Vision Boon 3: Foresight

Keen Edge is a spell you absolutely want to slap onto any vaguely pirate-y or hoity-toity party member you may have, as cutlasses, rapiers, and scimitars all leap from a dangerous 18~20 critical range to a terrifying 15~20, meaning they threaten to critically strike 1 out of every 4 attacks instead of just once every other fight or so. With a duration of 10 min/level, the enchantment will likely last multiple fights even if you only have it 1/day, but unfortunately it refuses to stack with any crit-boosting enchantments or feats the wielder may already possess, lessening its usefulness as your adventure goes on and your martial party members pick up increasingly fancy gear and pad out their collection of feats. Still, it’s useful for when you get it, and will remain useful for several levels after.

Vision is a whole different beast, and a dangerous one at that. It operates as the Legend Lore spell but vastly accelerated, allowing you to scrape the public consciousness for any information it may have on a specific person, place, or thing. I’ve complained about the general niche uses of Legend Lore before, but Vision grants the information in a much shorter time (a single standard action) at the cost of a potential for failure and a slap of fatigue whether you succeed or not. I don’t like 1/days that do nothing on a failure, but since Vision is purely a downtime spell (unless you need to know the boss’ weakness or info on the Evil Doom Artifact right now immediately), it’s not as much of an impediment to lose out on whatever information it could give you. That being said, the DM will likely have ways for you to do whatever plot-relevant research you need anyway, so Vision is more of a way to speed up the process than anything.

Which leaves Foresight, a spell whose main benefit relies intensely on DM cooperation, as I’ve ranted about here. Mechanically it’s fairly unimpressive, but if the DM reads the spell carefully, they should realize it gives whoever you cast it on a 6-second glance into the future at all times. Whatever horrors befall the victim 6 seconds from now should spring into your mind before they happen, making you the best trap radar on the planet, and the spell’s warnings for the best ways to protect yourself will urge the DM to grant you information about the enemy’s capabilities you may never otherwise know... but what do you expect from 9th level magic? It SHOULD be filling you in with details you’d never figure out!

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Inkariax, the White Death

Demagogue of Preservation, Absolute Cold, and Solitude Domains: Evil, Law, Void, Water Subdomains: Fear, Ice, Isolation, Slavery

Obedience: Inventory your collection of hoarded knickknacks, reciting your unique name for each item as you do Benefit: Gain a +4 profane bonus on saving throws to resist effects that would petrify or paralyze you.

God, finally, someone normal. At worst you’ll look like someone with a few obsessive issues, but at least you won’t look like a menace to society as you lay out your, I dunno, marbles or bone dice or dolls or what have you and make note that they’re still there, cooing to them with names only you know. It’s fitting for Inkariax, of all the Demagogues, to have an Obedience that requires no self-harm, physically or psychologically; unlike all the rest, he was born perfect and doesn’t need to chase after it. Instead, he pursues finding perfection in others, freezing and collecting people and items he believes represent perfection in whatever unusual way he desires that day (having perfect posture, or a perfect scream, or a perfect pair of eyes, etc). Much like him, you’re encouraged to expand a collection of whatever you deem perfect and desirable, which you’re often going to do just over the course of normally adventuring. I’ve yet to see a player character that doesn’t start amassing all sorts of junk in their pockets the moment they get a Bag of Holding or similar.

Indeed, you can just pick up whatever catches your fancy, be it stones, sticks, or severed bits of an enemy, though I’m sure Inkariax will ever-so-slowly raise a disapproving eyebrow if you just pick up any old junk. Make sure to curate your collection now and then! Being able to perform this Obedience with anything you happen to gather is especially helpful if you’re ever separated from your collection (always a danger) and need to start again, but note that each item you gain in your collection must have a completely unique name. That’s only really a danger for especially RP-heavy campaigns, but in such campaigns Worship of the White Death isn’t for everyone who just names all their collected bird feathers Jeffery. Start getting in the habit of stretching out your inventory sheet with names for all your items!

The benefit you get from lovingly counting up all your stolen statuettes and dusty books is resistance to two of the worst status effects in the game. While petrification is relatively rare it typically appears in Save-Or-Suck form, which makes protection against it far more valuable than, say, protection against something like the far more common fatigue or exhaustion. Paralysis is an ailment just short of a death sentence by itself, costing the victim their turn at best and their life at worst, so even a +4 between you and that is something you need to cling to with your entire being.

Boon 1: Sleet Storm Boon 2: Sequester Boon 3: Microcosm

Sleet Storm is a very simple spell with a decent number of functions. Its Long range means that any enemy in your line of sight can potentially be a target, letting you lash out easily at ranged enemies or dangerous casters by creating a 40ft-wide and 20ft-tall area of concealing sleet that’s impossible for any vision to pierce (except the rare and niche Snowsight or Fogcutter Lenses). Anyone inside will have to rely on Tremorsense or Blindsense (though the jury’s out on if the splashing of the sleet would confound those, as well) to navigate it, and 40ft of difficult terrain can feel impossible to clamber through when you start right in the middle of it with no idea which way is the way you need to go. It’s one of the strongest vision-blockers in the game due to its immunity to common tactics that thwart lesser spells (Gust of Wind, True Seeing, etc), forcing enemies to either blow their valuable uses of Dispel Magic or suffer for its entire duration. My only complaint is that you only get it 1/day and that it screws over your party just as hard if you use it incorrectly.

Sequester is as niche a use spell as there ever was for players, requiring a bit of forethought about what or who you’d want to hide with it. The target must be willing or inanimate to be affected, so tricking an enemy via Charm or Dominate into accepting the spell can keep them fresh as a daisy for weeks at a time if you ever have a reason to do such a thing. More often than not you’ll use it to conceal items you seriously don’t want seen or detected, such as a Bag of Holding or similar loaded with your collection of knickknacks or emergency supplies, a particular hostage, an NPC you need to keep alive, or your phylactery if you’re a Lich. If you’re especially sadistic, using it on an item someone else needs and throwing it into a well or a hoard of other objects will keep them occupied for a while. If you’re a more martial character, using it to hide your armor is viable, making it seem as though you’re invincible when enemy blows bounce straight off, or even your weapon to confound your enemies who seem to be taking wounds from an unseen item. Your mime routine will be killer, literally! Just... Just don’t drop the thing, because in the heat of battle you’re never going to find it.

Microcosm is one of the best spells you can hurl into a crowd of commoners or a swarm of foes meant to gum you up instead of actually threaten you. Its 30 HD limit will mean it likely will only strike one or two creatures capable of actually threatening you, but it’s brutal even then. The spell is permanent, trapping your victims in an illusory world in which everything goes right for them even as their bodies starve to death in the waking world. Anything with less than 10 HD is automatically affected with no saving throw, the spell easily mopping up mobs, while anything with 11~15 HD escapes automatically after 10 min... per level you have. On a successful save. There’s Save-Or-Suck, and then there’s the immensely rare Save-And-Suck! No wonder Microcosm is ONLY on the Psychic’s list! Anything with more than 16 HD is unaffected if they succeed their save, but all their allies are likely in an everlasting dreamland now. The big issue is that the HD restriction is way tighter than you may think; creatures, especially at higher levels, usually do NOT have HD matching their CR, but if you’re mainly battling level-appropriate Humanoid or Monstrous Humanoid creatures, Microcosm is fairly reliable in such battles, as those foes typically have HD that roughly matches their CR. But if you’re up against, say, Dragons or Outsiders, good luck bud.

Side note: Microcosm and Sequester used in combination make for excellent ways to start your own morbid collection of living creatures, just like your icy master! Just make sure you have some non-Divination means of seeing them, as Sequester blocks even True Sight.

[silentprincess17]

A Proposal Gone Awry

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | AO3

Summary: Link has been touring the breadth and width of Hyrule to clear out the remaining monster camps, and soon enough, he reaches Zora’s Domain. Mipha asks him to wait before he heads back to the castle, which he was intending on doing... but some mischievous children may have other plans.

Part 3

Mipha had completed her list of assignments for the day, and now she headed out to the Zora River, diving in on her way to Hyrule Castle. As she swam gracefully, swooping and twirling through the air as she breathed, before sinking back down into the water, she reflected on the day’s events. She’d attended the Zora General Council Meeting in the morning, where they discussed new refurbishments to be done around the Domain. Rather embarrassingly they’d decided to create a statue, depicting her, to be placed in the fountain at the centre of the Domain. She couldn’t say no, it would be disrespectful to the likes of Ledo, and Seggin, her Master, ordered the poor man to do it as well. Mipha personally didn’t really like the extravagance- she would much rather use the resources elsewhere. But, her father disagreed, stating she had become one of the Zora Greats, alongside Princess Ruto who was claimed to have been a Sage, in a time long past. It made her feel proud, at least, to be a Princess who had helped prevent such a disaster, and to know she’d helped Link in his endeavours made it all the sweeter.

At the thought of Link, her heart skipped a beat, and a shiver went down her fins. If only her plan that night had worked! She’d set everything up so carefully, so determined was she to profess what had truly driven her motivations to hold up the mantle of the Champion, how she wanted to protect him from any harm that could befall him… Sadly, under the influence of mischievous children he’d gotten hold of the armour she’d painstakingly made, and somehow deduced it was simply a practice run. For the love of the Goddesses, she couldn’t have anticipated such a turn of events.

One positive had come of the entire situation though, she’d found Kodah and it turns out Kodah’s head was truly filled with clouds: she was simply lusting after Link. Whilst Mipha could see the appeal, her feelings ran deeper. She didn’t just like the look of Link, she adored his very soul, and Kodah understood that and promised not to interfere. If anything, she looked sheepish and was ashamed about the whole affair. Mipha was quite glad that little piece of unpleasantness was over.

She sprouted from a gush of water, and she smiled. She always felt most at home in the waves, almost as though she and the river were one. It made her feel empowered, strong, but mostly comfortable. This was where her strength lay, in the powerful currents underneath her and how she wielded control over them.

Soon enough, the Castle came into view. Everything had mostly been fixed, people had settled back into Castle Town after their hurried evacuation, and Mipha was glad to see the people recuperating, already almost back to normal. She wondered, sometimes, what would have happened if Terrako hadn’t summoned the help from the future that they ended up relying so heavily on. What would have happened to her, if Sidon, her grown up, almost of courting-age brother hadn’t shown up to protect her. And Sidon’s presence had allowed enough time for Link to come and help defeat the Waterblight, and she blushed a little at the thought. Truly, he was her Hero. And to think Terrako hadn’t only sent help her way, but to the other three Champions as well… The small egg-shaped guardian had done so much for them, and she didn’t want to dwell on what might have been, had it not been there.

By the time Mipha arrived in the Sanctum, it was close to sunset, and she had spent some time drying herself to make sure she didn’t soak the carpet floors. And okay, she’d also spent some time roaming around the garrison, and the barracks but she hadn’t managed to spot Link.

She sighed, he was probably with the Princess, where he nearly always was.

Revali was the next to arrive, and he fluffed his feathers, brusquely adjusting his neckerchief, “Are the others not on time? How asinine. Although perhaps it’s too much to expect such high standards from them.”

Mipha sighed, much more discreetly this time. He had a rivalry with Link, and that could not be forgiven in her books. “Revali, we are, as of yet, early. Urbosa and Daruk are both travelling from-”

“Afar? Yes, I know, that’s no excuse though, Mipha, have you ever heard of leaving earlier? They also cannot fly to their detriment. Did you see Daruk’s paraglider break after using it a mere five times? Who told a Goron he could sail through the air? It’s just so unnatural!”

Urbosa walked in then, and Mipha left Revali alone for a few minutes. He briefly called to her though, as she turned away, although when she’d waited patiently for him to say something, all he’d done was glance down at her ornamental armour, before brushing off his feathers.

She shrugged, classing as typically strange Revali behaviour before she turned back to Urbosa. She wanted to ask if the Gerudo Champion had seen Princess Zelda, and by default Link. It pricked her a little, that she had to find the Princess first in order to locate Link, but he was her Knight after all.

Sadly, Urbosa hadn’t seen Princess Zelda. Apparently, she was getting ready in her room. Mipha could only assume Link was guarding her door. Shortly after that, Daruk had appeared and then the King had walked in, welcoming them to the Castle. They would have a private dinner, with a few select Sheikah, and Master Kohga to privately congratulate the group on their success and then move across to the Sanctum later on in the evening for the Ball in their honour. Hestu had decided to remain with the forest spirits, and Monk Maz Koshia had re-entered the Shrine of Resurrection, in his deep other-worldly tones saying he’d now wait for the next Hero. Mipha shuddered a little at the memory, wondering what the next Hero’s fate would be…

They walked with the King, who pulled out an apple to snack on whilst they trekked to the Dining room, where they would meet Princess Zelda, and Link. Her heart sped up a little in anticipation.

Impa, Purah, Robbie and Master Kohga were all waiting in the room, a single banana in the middle of the four of them and heated debate was clearly ongoing, but they stopped as soon as the King walked in and knelt. He bid them to rise, and they all sat, waiting for the Hero and the Princess to join.

And her heart rate did spike, as the Princess walked in, hand in Link’s elbow as he escorted her inside. His eyes never met hers, but Mipha didn’t allow that little fact to distract her, because oh, Link was in Royal Guard uniform and –

- Terrako bounded up, jumping up to Link’s waist, and he caught the egg, settling it on its own chair, and it beeped and booped, waving its little guardian legs at them. Mipha waved back, but really, she was trying to stifle her laughter as Impa gave the poor thing a good whack in return and it jostled into the air, pointing its little finger at her. Terrako truly was very cute, but Mipha was distracted again by Link coming closer still.

He looked radiant, polished, a perfect guard, his hair slicked back into that cap, the royal dark blue armour overlaid his muted red undershirt, and Mipha choked a little on the water she was sipping when she looked at his pristine white gloves and boots. Oh Goddesses, the gloves. He looked devastatingly handsome, and- wait. He held the chair for the Princess, as was expected for a guard, Mipha reassured herself, but he… smiled at her. A small smile, a classic Link smile if you will, but he smiled at her, and she smiled back, gently, tucking her hair behind her ear. Not for the first time in their presence, Mipha felt a dash of fear strike her, but it was quickly forgotten as Link sat down, and smiled the same smile, if a little less bright, towards each of them, until he reached Revali and then it was a nod. That made her chuckle a little, and the Rito just shrugged, instead turning to Zelda and inquiring about her health.

But Mipha was watching Link, and she didn’t miss his fingers tightening over his glass. Subtle, but she noticed still. And the fear pricked again. But he was just annoyed over Revali, right?

He turned to Daruk, who started talking about the newest iteration of Rock Roast, and Link sat up, paying earnest attention.

And Mipha let herself breathe. She was really overthinking this whole scenario to be fair.

Soon enough, the King lifted his champagne flute, and they all looked at him.

“Champions, I invited you all today to commemorate your success! Tonight, we feast, and make merry, for the Darkness has been Sealed and the light of Hylia shines upon us all. I would like to personally extend my thanks for your service in the name of Hyrule, and I pray that you all remain in the best of health, and achieve whatever you set your minds too, for those in the room today are amongst the brightest and most capable citizens of what is surely to be, a glorious future.”

Everyone politely clapped, and Mipha felt encouraged, she could do what she set her mind to, she could confess to Link, she could achieve the future she most wanted- to rule her Domain with him by her side.

Dinner passed by any further without incident, Mipha joked a little with Urbosa, who was in the middle of setting up a “girls-night only session” for the five of them. And Urbosa had done something very strange, she mentioned she wanted to host another catwalk, and then she had winked at Link, who had promptly blushed, pulling at his collar. Mipha wasn’t sure she understood the reference, it felt like an inside joke that she wasn’t privy to, but regardless, she was excited. A chance to bond with other girls her age who weren’t Zora was hard to do, enclosed as they were in the Domain. Then there was the whole ageing issue, because by the time everyone in this room had died, Mipha would actually still be in the Hyrulian equivalent of her thirties. But today was about celebrating their success, and she shouldn’t be thinking of something as morbid as death.

As soon as dessert was passed around, which unsurprisingly was fruitcake, Princess Zelda’s favourite, the group made to disband. She remained, thinking perhaps this would be the ideal time to snag Link for a few minutes, out on the walkway just outside the dining room before they headed to the Sanctum.

She walked very slowly to the door, and then remained just outside, intending on asking Link as he walked out with the Princess. She waited for a few seconds, and he hadn’t shown up yet, so she discreetly held her jewellery and poked her head back in, and she almost wished she hadn’t.

Because Link was using those same white gloves, the pair she had so loved on him, to gently wipe some of the frosting on Princess Zelda’s outer lip. And then. Oh. Mipha had to turn away. She hastily walked off, trying to think of an excuse but was unable too.

Why had he licked his finger clean?

Well, to be fair, they had all become friends over the time, some of them, such as Link and Zelda, had spent even more time together and so were likely to be even better friends. Frankly, they were together all the time, and this sort of behaviour was common between friends was it not? As a form of teasing? Yes, that was it.

She felt somewhat reassured once she was back in the Sanctum, she’d wait for her moment and she would seize it. She would do as she planned today.

*

The King made a similar rousing speech, once they were inside the Sanctum, and the ball began in earnest. Link and Princess Zelda appeared some fifteen minutes after Mipha had arrived, and she had taken a total of twelve minutes to walk across to reach the Sanctum so clearly, nothing else untoward had happened.

Or, well, anything that she could forcibly see.

The music started, as a sort of prelude for the first dance, and Terrako jumped up, pulling off a “spinning” dance move set on the floor, twirling and flying upside down as it gracefully pirouetted, and everyone was fawning over the little egg. It responded in kind with a series of beeps and boops, in sync with the music.

She tried to squeeze her way over to Link, to ask if he would like to, perhaps, dance, and then she’d guide him away mid-swirl and clarify the situation that arose last week.

But, lo and behold, there he was, dancing with the Princess. It was the first dance, and etiquette meant that it was almost expected for Princess Zelda to open up the dance with the Hero. Mipha was nothing if not patient, and she smiled graciously at the courtesan who asked for her hand to dance. She acquiesced, anything to keep her mind off how Link was probably holding the Princess a little closer than etiquette required, and how those piercing sapphire eyes never left the Princess’s own. Whilst she was trying to pay attention to what the courtesan was saying, she hadn’t even caught his name, poor fellow, but she couldn’t help but remain focussed on Link.

She gasped when he spun the Princess in a tight circle, and then dipped her, nearly to the floor, and how in sync they seemed to be, how seamless the whole thing was. It made her suspicious. Link was very graceful in a fight; he performed some of the hardest moves as though he was passing a knife through butter, but… dance was a considerably different type of elegance. And the way the Princess was smiling at him, almost encouraging him, made a small stone settle in her stomach as she came to the most likely conclusion.

He’d learnt to dance with her. They had practised together. And she fought down the burn of jealousy that threatened to escape her.

Of course Link would learn to dance with Princess Zelda, he was her Knight! She must have offered because she knew this ball was coming up, and Link likely had no experience, so she offered to teach him!

And they weren’t dancing as lovers!

Mipha excused herself, she was feeling all hot and bothered and it was just so unlike her to feel agitated. She just needed a few seconds of fresh air, ideally to jump in a lake for a few seconds just to cool down and recover her Grace.

She escaped down a corridor and went through the first door that opened out onto a balcony, taking a few deep breaths.

Within seconds she heard girlish giggling, followed by a deeper, richer laugh. She stiffened, moving to hide behind one of the tapestries, for some reason feeling self-conscious even though she had no reason to be. The pair passed by the door without pausing, and although she likely knew who it was, she wanted to verify it with her own eyes.

And yes, as she’d guessed, there was Princess Zelda, holding hands with Link. The laughter that she’d never heard before was from him. She didn’t have the heart to be upset anymore, because she realised something then.

He was happy.

In all the time she’d known him, he had only ever smiled and laughed as a child, as a four-year-old. Never had he laughed once he grew older, only smiling, and that too, small, limited smiles.

Her heart throbbed painfully in her chest; it was all too much. She had just wanted to take a minute's breather, but she could still do that! She could just- she flipped around and saw another winding corridor.

She hurried down it, keen to try to recompose herself a little. Clearly though, she had forgotten that the castle was indeed circular in shape, and the corridor she had started on in her haste, actually ended up being the very same one Link and Zelda were walking down now. Goddesses, her luck had run out today. It was too late to backtrack, in her panicked, and half-unfocused state she had somehow missed their laughter, and now from the sound of their voices, they had nearly reached the entrance. Thankfully, it was dark, and Mipha pressed herself into the shadows, behind what she could vaguely make out to be a column. She would just wait until they had left, and she would continue forwards to end up back at the ballroom.

But no, even then, she was doomed because Princess Zelda stopped, and moved to light a small lamp on the side. She held it up to what Mipha could make out was a portrait.

“This corridor, Link. Have you had a chance to come before?”

He shook his head.

“Well, I’d imagined so, because we never had much time, really. Always heading from one battle to the next… But I’d like to show you something, now that we’re no longer under such duress.”

He smiled, nodding. “Okay.”

Mipha was distracted from her discomfort at being trapped and unable to escape when she realised that Link spoke. Casually, almost. Like this wasn’t a rare thing. Mipha felt the stone in her gut grow a little.

“We call this the Hallway of Remembrance, to commemorate the Heroes and the Princesses of time past, where Ganon, or at least, some form of him, came to terrorise Hyrule.”

She held up the lamp closer to the first portrait, and Mipha, despite her misgivings, edged a little closer in curiosity. It was a painting of what seemed to be a land mass suspended in air, with the back of a boy that looked a lot like Link, and she had to hold in a gasp when she realised he was, in fact, holding the Master Sword. Next to him was a girl with flowing blonde hair, not unlike the Princess actually… and she was holding a harp.

“This one was commissioned by Father actually. No one truly knows what Hyrule was like back then, but apparently, it was all in the clouds… And they used to fly around on animals that are now very much extinct. So, this isn’t really a portrait from then, but it felt right to include, you know?”

Link paused. “I. I remember it, a little.” He glanced up; his brow furrowed. “I think it was called Skyloft, Zelda. And we flew on loftwings… I saved you then too, although I can’t remember much else.” Mipha’s jaw almost dropped to the ground. Wow. So much speech. And… she still didn't quite understand what was going on, but it was dawning on her now that they wouldn’t be moving down from this corridor for a while. From the way things were going, it seemed like a private conversation she shouldn’t be privy to, and she felt guilty for unintentionally overhearing them.

But she was stuck! She couldn’t move in front of them, or they’d know she was here, and she couldn’t move back down the corridor she came from because they’d also see. So, she was trapped behind this white marble column, indefinitely, until they moved past her.

Princess Zelda laughed. “Obviously you did. That is a recurring theme by the way.” She paused. “Wait, yours was a Crimson loftwing wasn’t it? The rare one?”

He nodded, and he looked so excited. “Yours was blue.”

Zelda’s hand glowed, the blood of Hylia running through her veins, although Mipha saw no Calamity, and wondered what exactly was going on. “Sleepyhead?”

Link laughed, and pulled her close, hugging her tightly. “You will always be… my Zelda.”

And the stone grew. And grew. Mipha fisted her fingers into the small crevices of her jewellery, a storm of guilt and embarrassment over illicitly being here, over watching them when they thought they were alone, over how at ease Link was, over what those words meant. She had to keep reciting that it wasn’t her fault she was trapped here, she would just have to hold it together until they hopefully decided to move on. She couldn’t help but gently pass her fingers over the gaping hole in her chest that she’d hidden with her ornamental silver clasp. She tried her hardest to blot it all out and think up a rational explanation. She was just overreading this. Okay, so just because one of their previous… selves (?) had ended up together, didn’t mean all of them followed the same pattern, right? And of course, you’d embrace someone whose soul you knew like this?

Zelda leaned away from him a little. “Come, I have more to show you.” She pulled him along, and he followed, as he always did, the last thought echoed bitterly in her mind. “Although, I’d like to think things were a little different for us, at least, in terms of the whole saving scenario.”

He nodded. “You’re right. It was different this time… We saved each other, Zelda. I wouldn’t have thought to even touch the sword, if it hadn’t responded to me wanting to protect you, because that’s all I wanted at that moment. And your powers…”

She nodded. “Yes. I, I didn’t want to lose you, Link.” Even from here, Mipha could see her blush. And she felt increasingly uncomfortable. She just- it was too much. Link, freely talked to the Princess. Freely laughed with her. Had a deeper bond with her that wasn’t just for this lifetime but for… all?

Zelda coughed, “A-anyway. The next is of the Hero of Time, and this Princess was rumoured to be a sage…”

Mipha shoved all her misgivings aside and perked up- perhaps they’d have a portrait of this Hero with Princess Ruto because she was also a sage right?

Link winced. “That’s when it all got complicated isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

He shook his head, “Never mind.”

And Mipha felt her hope dash as they walked past the portrait, no mention of any other sage.

Her heart rate increased, as they walked towards her hiding place, slowly but surely. She was thankfully hidden quite well behind the ornate marble columns that held up the walkway above, which meant she was unlikely to be caught. She held tight onto the thought that it would soon be over, that they would soon move on past this damned corridor, and she could finally leave. But no, instead they covered each and every portrait. Mipha slowly felt her hope dwindle, despair set in, and guilt seep through her scales at her continued encroachment on their privacy. She couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by what was being said as the duo continued through several iterations of the same Hero and Princess… always together, never far apart. One was in Twilight, another in foreign country called Lorule, one in the sea, yet another in spirits…

At that one, it was a portrait of a train, with the Princess… in corporeal form? She was flying beside the boy that Mipha knew was Link. He looked so much like her Link, when he was younger. She watched as Link laughed, “That was a good journey, I remember that.”

Zelda quite literally pushed him. “HEY! I lost my body in that one!”

“Yeah, but you got to be my sidekick for once.” Link was smirking. Mipha had to rub her eyes once, twice and then three times for her to believe what she was seeing was true.

“YOU- I’ll have you know you were MY sidekick. I recruited you! I was the one to pick you to be my engineer!”

“The phantom armour was the best though, especially when you carried me like the Hero I was.”

“Yeah? Without me carrying you, we would have been stuck at level two in the Tower, because you couldn’t walk through lava, being Hylian and all! And then where would we be? And don’t think I don’t remember how long we spent at the Rabbit Sanctuary. You loved frolicking!”

“Hey, no need to call me out like that Princess.”

And so, it continued. For every single portrait. Mipha felt progressively smaller and smaller. She watched as Link held Princess Zelda’s hand, she watched as he leaned his head on her shoulder, so familiar and comfortable. She watched as they exchanged stories, joked with each other, things Link had remembered from the Master Sword, legends Zelda had learnt in the library and her own memories as Hylia’s chosen. As they progressed, Mipha increasingly felt like she was simply a side character, in a longer, and more detailed history than she ever could have imagined. She remained, frozen in place, as they last reached the penultimate portrait, just by her hiding place.

“Ah. This is a precious one Link. I only really remembered this one after unlocking my sealing power.”

It was Link. Sitting atop what was a weird… Mipha didn’t know how to describe it. It had two wheels, one at the front and another at the back, with a sort of seat in the middle. He was wearing a familiar blue tunic, much like the one made for him by the Princess, and Zelda was sitting in front, his arm wrapped around her, his face half-leaning against hers. They looked very comfortable with each other, and it lacked the seriousness that some of the other portraits had. Behind them, were the Divine Beasts, each with their Champion in the distance.

“This is… the legend we tried to recreate in our world, isn’t it? So, this is the direct predecessor to ours…”

“Yes…”

There was only one portrait left, just by her column. This portrait was the only one with a red cloth over it. Mipha didn’t dare breathe, but Goddesses, she was so thankful it was nearly the end. She would finally be able to leave… Finally able to ignore the gnawing fear that she had completely misunderstood Link which oozed through her skin and clung to her tighter than the armour she had painstakingly made.

“So, this is the special one!” She uncovered it, and Link laughed, clear and loud. Mipha pressed herself tighter into her column, making sure to remain silent, and she realised it was, in fact, two portraits. One was of all of the champions together, Link, Princess Zelda, Terrako, herself, Urbosa, Daruk, Revali, Master Kohga, Maz Koshia, Hestu and the King even, and the second… The second was of Princess Zelda in her royal blue gown, and Link in his Royal Guard uniform.

He gasped, poking her cheek. “So, this is why you wanted me to wear this uncomfortably tight uniform the other day and you took a photo on the slate!”

“Yes, silly. I wanted to commemorate us, too. We’ve also fought against Ganon, and now we will be preserved in history, as will all the other Heroes and Princesses that have come before us.”

He leaned closer, until his forehead rested on hers, his hands cupping her face and Mipha felt her heart stop. It felt like the final nail was hovering over her chest, about to shatter the fragile, tiny bud of hope she had left. “Thank you, Zelda. Not, not only for today, but for saving me, and for letting me live all our lives again.”

She stroked his cheek. “You’re welcome, Link. I’m so very happy to have found you again, sleepyhead.” She laughed, “Although, I’ve decided I don’t quite like this cap. I cannot run my fingers through your hair.” He instantaneously pulled it off, and leaned closer still, and she laughed, before her lips touched his.

And the nail sunk in. Hard and fast.

Mipha’s heart shattered.

She turned and left, and they didn’t notice.

How could they, when they were so lost in each other. Deep down, Mipha knew. She denied it to herself constantly, but she knew. And now, after seeing just how many generations they’ve passed through, tied to each other, she realised something else. They were soulmates. Their souls were forever bound to one another. And she could never compete against that.

But even then, even if she disregarded their history, there was no doubt left in her mind that Link very much liked, if not loved, Princess Zelda. And whilst it burned her like acid down her throat, or as if she’d stepped into the lava that surrounds Death Mountain, right now, she knew that she would be happy seeing him happy. And if his happiness lay with another Princess, then who was she to say otherwise.

But tonight, tonight she allowed herself to wallow in self-pity, for a love lost, for a love, that no matter how hard she might have wished it to be true, was doomed from the start to fail.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #177

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re making Nitocris (Assassin), the return of best girl! All we gotta do for this build is make a build where you can defend yourself with a super powerful sheet, drown your enemies, and summon Medjed for combat. Super easy.

Oh yeah, we also have to make a super-adaptable vehicle that can defend us from any kind of harm because SOMEBODY went ham on the safety features and left us with having to stick them in the build. I’m not saying names though, and Scheherazade should be grateful.

Anyways, this build’s mostly a Shepherd Druid because druids are busted like that, but we’re still dipping into Grave Cleric for a bit of flavor and Monk for her defenses and a better time in melee combat.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: Team Killer Demon King of the Xth Heaven!

Race and Background

Surprisingly, putting on a swimsuit doesn’t change your life story that much. Nitocris is still a Fallen Aasimar Noble, giving her +1 Wisdom, +2 Constitution, Darkvision, Celestial Resistance to radiant and necrotic damage, Healing Hands to heal people as an action, the Light cantrip, and proficiency with History and Persuasion. You are a pharaoh, and you are Nitocris. That’s all you need to understand history and to persuade people.

Ability Scores

Actually surprisingly, putting on a swimsuit does change your physical abilities a little bit. Your Wisdom is still the highest stat, you’ll want that for ruling and for summoning god magic. However your second highest stat is Constitution. That sheet can really take a beating. Dexterity comes next so you don’t die while wearing a swimsuit. Your Charisma isn’t bad, I wish it could be higher, but we don’t need it mechanically. Your Intelligence is a little low, but it’s summer, everyone’s relaxed. Finally, dump Strength. You still aren’t a powerhouse, except in our heart.

Class Levels

1. Druid 1: Starting off as a druid gets you proficiency with Intelligence and Wisdom saves, as well as two druid skills. I’d grab Religion and Animal Handling. You’re really good and handling those medjed, and mechanically most of them will be beasts in this build.

You can also write Druidic (it’s a language!) and cast and prepare Spells using your Wisdom. You can pick from any spells on the druid spell list, but you’re limited each long rest to a number equal to your wisdom modifier plus your druid level.

You also get a couple cantrips that you’ll always have; I suggest Guidance so you’re always a bit better than those plebians, as well as Shape Water as a taste of what you’ll be able to do later.

In order to shape water, you’ll first have to make it, with Create or Destroy Water. A lot of your drowning spells require standing water to work, so you’ll be well acquainted with this one moving forward. You also get Absorb Elements and Protection from Evil and Good to serve as your early defensive buffs from your cloak.

2. Monk 1: For further defense, we’re bouncing over to monk real quick to get Unarmored Defense, giving you an AC of 10 plus your dexterity modifier plus your wisdom modifier. You also get Martial Arts, letting you make physical attacks using your Dexterity instead of strength, dealing a minimum of 1d4 damage. Also, you can attack as a bonus action after attacking as an action. The medjed are great, but sometimes you have to stand up for yourself.

3. Cleric 1: One last multiclass, I swear. As a Grave cleric, you learn and prepare some more Spells using your Wisdom, and you also have a Circle of Mortality so your healing spells automatically do as much healing as possible on creatures that are at 0 HP. You also get a buffed version of Spare the Dying that you can cast at range as a bonus action. On top of that, your Eyes of the Grave can use your action Wisdom modifier times per long rest to sense undead nearby.

You also get even more cantrips! Grab Resistance for more defense, Thaumaturgy to truly capture the godly aspect of being a pharaoh, and Toll the Dead for just a bit of ghosts. As a treat.

You also get first level spells, including Bane and False Life for free! Being covered in medjeds makes it hard to do stuff, and again, that’s one cool cloak. You can also swap protection from evil & good and create & destroy water over here to free up some druid space, but for new spells check out Command for a pharaoh’s intimidating presence and Shield of Faith to either increase your own AC or throw your towel on another ally.

Since this is your third level overall, you also get your Necrotic Shroud, spending an action to create a true beach panic in a 10′ radius around you. When you transform, you force a charisma save (8 + proficiency + chr mod) on all creatures in range, and if they fail they’re frightened for a round. For a minute afterwards you can add necrotic damage to your attacks once per turn. Afterwards, you can’t do this again until you take a long rest.

4. Druid 2: Now that our multiclassing is done, we can go back to our main class and become a Shepherd druid. As a second level druid, you can either use Wild Shape to transform into an animal yourself (not really canon, but you know how egyptian gods are) or you can use those charges to summon a Wild Companion with a free Find Familiar spell. If you turn into a beast, it has to be cr 1/4 or lower, and can’t have a swimming or flying speed. Your physical stats get replaced with the new stat block, but you keep your proficiencies and your Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma scores. The beast’s HP effectively becomes extra HP for you, and once that’s depleted you turn back into a human. er, aasimar. You keep all the cool stuff from your race & classes, but you can’t cast spells while an animal.

Whether you use your wild shapes to turn into an animal or find familiars, they both last Half your Druid Level hours, and you get two uses per short rest.

As a shepherd druid, you can use your Speech of the Woods to speak Sylvan or to animals, and you also get a Spirit Totem that can protect your party for up to a minute that you can summon as a bonus action once per short rest. Later we can call these safety features in your car, but for now they’re just kind of here.

If you summon a bear spirit, creatures you choose in the aura get temporary HP, and advantage on strength checks & saves. If you summon a Hawk Spirit, you can use your reaction to give advantage on an attack in the aura, and all allies have advantage on perception checks. If you summon a unicorn spirit, you get advantage on all checks to detect creatures (kind of horning in on the hawk’s territory, but w/e) and you can heal each creature inside the aura at the same time you use any healing spell. Perfect if your best friend is terrified of death!

5. Druid 3: Third level druids get second level spells, like Summon Beast for your very first medjed! It’s not spectacular, but you can create land, sea, or air medjeds to give those mini nobbus a run for their money. You could also use Animal Messenger for utility medjeds. If you need to make a quick escape, pull down your hood to Pass without Trace. I won’t bring it up each level, but feel free to grab healing spells too. It’s what Scheherazade would have wanted. Also, feel free to ask the gods for advice with Augury.

6. Druid 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to become Resilient against dexterity saves. This rounds up your dexterity for stronger punches and a better AC, and you also become proficient in dexterity saves so that fireball won’t be quite as dangerous.

Your Wild Shape improves a bit, letting you transform into swimming creatures of CR 1/2 or less.

You also learn the Mending cantrip, because that cloak of yours has seen a lot of action by this point, and it probably needs some loving.

7. Druid 5: Fifth level druids get third level spells, like Conjure Animals. You can summon eight beasts of CR 1/4 or lower, four of CR 1/2, two of CR 1, or 1 of CR 2. They’re friendly, and listen to your commands. I’d recommend some smaller creatures for a medjed swarm, or one big creature for your car. Aurochs are good for flat land, Cave Bears for water, a young bulette if you expect to run people over... this is a pretty versatile solution.

You can also use Protection from Energy for more... protection, and Tidal Wave for your first true drowning option against your foes. Creatures in a 30′ by 10′ by 10′ area must make a dexterity save, and if they fail they take bludgeoning damage and get knocked prone. On a success they take half damage and stay standing. Afterwards, the water spreads out an extinguishes fires, but sadly it doesn’t stick around, so you’ll still have to use Create & Destroy Water for the bigger spells coming up.

8. Druid 6: Sixth level shepherds become Mighty Summoners, giving their creations two more HP per hit die and letting them slip through nonmagical damage resistances. The medjed are gods in their own right, getting stopped by a devil would just be weird.

9. Druid 7: Seventh level druids get fourth level spells like Control Water, which lets you control freestanding water within a 100′ cube. You can create floods which create waves in larger bodies of water, you can part water to move through them (...Ozymandius will not be happy to see that little trick pop back up in his life), redirect the flow of water in impossible ways, or create a Whirlpool in larger bodies of water that traps creatures who fail an athletics check.

If you want your medjed to be a little more godlike, try Conjure Woodland Beings to summon fey creatures instead of beasts. At least they’ll have magic?

10. Druid 8: Eighth level druids get another Wild Shape improvement, so now you can fly as a creature of CR 1 or lower. (Also it’s weird that Wild Companion didn’t get any buffs as you level up.) Either way, use your new ASI to bump up your Wisdom for stronger spells and a better AC.

11. Druid 9: Ninth level druids get fifth level spells, like Antilife Shell, the ultimate in anti-personnel protection! For up to an hour, living creatures outside your barrier can’t enter or make attacks against you unless they have ranged or reach weapons. The downside is that if you get surrounded and can’t move the other creatures away, you’re stuck unless you pop that bubble. You could also Awaken a huge or smaller creature or plant to act as your car on a more permanent basis. Awakened trees aren’t the fastest rides, but they’re pretty sturdy. The awakened thing is charmed for up to 30 days or until your party does something stupid, afterwards it’s up to the target to decide how it feels about you. Don’t mistreat your car.

12. Druid 10: Tenth level druids get another cantrip, and Druidcraft is just really versatile. It’s good. Your spirit totem also become a Guardian Spirit, healing your summoned creatures at the end of their turn by half your druid level.

13. Druid 11: With sixth level spells, you can summon a great medjed to lead your troops with Conjure Fey, creating a fey or beast of CR 6 or lower. It’s friendly while you maintain concentration, but if that drops it becomes hostile and might attack. A lot of your spells work best with good charisma checks, thankfully you’re Nitocris. You can also create Primordial Wards, giving you resistance to acid, cold, fire, lightning, and thunder damage for up to a minute. During that time, you can react upon taking damage of those types to gain immunity to that type until the end of your next turn, at which point the spell ends.

14. Druid 12: Use this ASI to max out your Wisdom for all those reasons that are still there since last ASI.

15. Druid 13: Most of your new seventh level spells aren’t super in character, but you can use Symbol to set traps for unsuspecting enemies and leave them scattered about your car. Technically you can’t move an object symbol after you set it, but a surface symbol as no such issue, so it’s time for a paint job. There’s a lot of different symbols, but most of them are very unpleasant for your foes.

16. Druid 14: Your final Shepherd goody turns your car into a Faithful Summons. When you’re reduced to 0 HP or incapacitated, you can instantly use Conjure Animals as a ninth level spell, creating 4 beasts of CR 2 or lower. That’s right, your car really does protect you now. The beasts will automatically defend you and fight against your foes, and the spell doesn’t require concentration. You can do this once per long rest.

17. Druid 15: Seventh level didn’t have much for you, but eighth level spells are a bit better. Antipathy/Sympathy helps your car defend you by repelling creatures from it. You can cast the spell on a huge or smaller object/creature and pick one kind of intelligent creature. Antipathy then forces any named creature within sight or 60′ of the target to make a wisdom save or be frightened while it remains near the car. While frightened, it has to move away from the target until it can’t see it, and it will automatically become frightened again if it moves back into range. If an affected creature ends its turn out of range, it can make another save, if it succeeds, the spell no longer affected and knows about the spell. Creatures that make their save are immune for a minute.

That’s a mouthful, but it’s not the only spell we want here! Tsunami creates a tsunami, creating a wall of water 300′ by 300′ by 50′. Each creature within the wall has to make a strength save, and if they fail they take bludgeoning damage. At the start of your turn after casting the spell, it moves 50′ away, along with creatures inside it. Then all the creatures it ran into/had already make another strength save or take more damage. At the end of each turn the wall moves, it loses 50′ in height and it deals less damage. When the wall is 0 feet tall, the spell ends.

Creatures can try to escape the wall by making an athletics check, but if they fail they can’t move at all.

18. Druid 16: Use your last ASI for a higher Dexterity to get more AC and stronger punches. They pale in comparison to a tsunami, but you can only do that once per day.

19. Druid 17: Congrats, you finally get ninth level spells! Shapechange will let you transform yourself into a true Medjed (assuming you’ve seen one by now). It works similar to your wildshape, but it isn’t limited to beasts and the CR limit is your level. (That being said, you could also turn into a leviathan next level if you’ve seen one, but that’s not in character)

20. Druid 18: Your final level of the build gives you a Timeless Body, reducing your aging by a factor of 10 so you can rule the beaches for centuries to come. You also get Beast Spells so you can cast spells without material components while you’re a beast.

Pros:

You make big waves, and big waves have big areas of effect. You’re very good at pushing around huge groups of people, both thanks to those waves and thanks to your summons.

Another benefit of being a big summoner druid is that you’re tough to get at. If your enemies can get through your medjed swarm you’ve still got an AC of 17/19 and plenty of healing to chew through before they can take you down. And taking you down just makes your medjed army bigger.

While your Awakened Tree car isn’t going to win you any first place medals, you aren’t limited to the one. Think about it- get enough money together and you can pretty much set up a living mobile base, so long as you stay on good terms with the trees propping it up.

Cons:

You are, however, limited to one spell at a time. A lot of your defensive spells and almost all your summons all need your concentration to function, and not only do they blink out of existence if you fail a constitution save, but they also  might attack you!

Those big floody spells you have? They’ll also hit your army. Unlike FGO, your medjed don’t pop back to a pocket dimension when their turn’s over- you’ll have to deal with them getting caught in the waves. That’ll also hurt your standing with the trees, probably.

Until you hit level 17, your best water-based spell is Control Water, which requires water to already exist in the area. You also are probably the only racer who has to make sure their car actually likes them. What I’m trying to say is you have to put up with a lot of fiddly setup to make your powers work as well as they can.

[the-wisteria-house]

Beifong reader

"Hello everyone." President Riko begins "Today we are all here to celebrate the founding of The United Republic-"

Your attention is drawn away from the speech to your mother, who looks nervous. "Hey."You elbow her arm lightly."What's up."

"The Avatar's going to be here to day. I'm afraid she'll cause trouble."She shrugs.

You could tell she was lying. You may be a tween, but you're not stupid. "You should have more faith in her."you then continue"Yes she can be impulsive and ignorant. But she'll grow out of it at some point. She's a good person."

Your attention shifts back to the president when you don't a response.

"Everyone will be paired up with someone with a different nationality or bending. Listen for your name, and the name of your partner." They start to list off pairs. After a few minutes you hear your name.

"(Y/N) Beifong, and Jinora of the Air Nomads."

"Alright bye."You say once you spot a girl in orange.If you would have looked at your mother. You would have seen the panic cross her face.

Lin begins to eternally panic. 'Why didn't I think about this? I knew this was a bad idea-'

"I didn't know you and your sister where back in contact."Her thoughts are interrupted by Tenzin.

"We're not."Lin raises an eyebrow before it clicks. He didn't think you were her's. "Oh, then who's-"

"She's mine."The woman interrupts.

"I just thought- because-well you-umm. Never mind..."The monk stammers awkwardly.

With you and Jinora

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"I didn't know Lin had a daughter."Jinora looks to the slightly taller girl.

"Yeah,I get that a lot."You laugh ignoring the slight sting of hurt.

"So how old are you?"

"I'm 13, how about you?"

"I just turned 11."You nodded to show you were listening.

"Cool. What do you wanna do first?"

The girl thinks for a moment. "How about we do each others training?"

This confuses you.

"What do you mean? Like for me to drill you like an earth bender, and for me to do you're training?"

"Yes exactly! Well of course excluding the bending part."she gets excited

"I don't know.....do you really want to be trained like an earth blender?"you question

"Yes, it's the opposite of air. I might learn something new."

You chuckle 'She's serious.' "Okay...."

"Let's go fine our parents and let them know what's up."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"I haven't seen you in ages!" Katara smiles at Lin.

"Katara, how have you been?" Lin smiles back at the older woman.

"Oh,hey Lin!"Kya greets.

"Hey,Kya."she waves to her old pro-bending partner.

But before they could get to deep into conversation. TZwo young girls come running up to them."Hey,Dad can (Y/N), and I go to air temple Island? I want to show her the meditation spots, and the quart yard."Jinora asks excitment evident in her voice.

"I don't see why not."Tenzin responds.

"Hey Chief, can I go check out air temple Island with Jinora?"Katara raises a brow in confusion. Why were you asking Lin?

"Chief?" Kya questions.

Lin realizes she never introduced you to everyone. "Oh, this is (Y/N), my daughter."she gestures to you.

"Hello."You wave to the adults. Wanting to get out of there emedenty.

"Hey why don't you run me through those drills?"Jinora saves you.

"Alright, are you sure though? Let me warn you. These aren't for the sensitive. I can go easy on you if you want?"You bargen.

"No,don't go easy on me I want to learn the right way!"She incestsis stubbornly.

You laugh "Sue it yourself. You have the stubbornness, that's got sure."

"This should be interesting."Katara sips her tea.

"This is the horse stance."You demonstrate. She copies,but her mussels are to loose.

You walk up to her. "Brace yourself."You warn before pushing her slightly.

You demonstrate again

"Tighten your muscles. Be firm,face it head-on."

After an hour of teaching. Jinora wanted to take things up a notch. "This is cool but I want more of a challenge."she describes. "Okay sure."You pull out a blind fold which confuses the air bender. "What's that for?"You ignore Jinora and put it on. "Do everything I just taught you."You say sternly.

An hour or so later

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No,no no! Keep your knee's high Twinkle Toes!"you say still blind fold. "I can barely since you you're like a dancer something."

Katara pauses and looks at her daughter. "Did she just call Jinora-"

"Twinkle Toes?"Lin laughs "Yes,yes she did."

"So Lin,what are some of (Y/N)'s interest?"Katara makes conversation."She's a major history buff and always has her nose in a book when she's not earth bending." Lin chuckles. Katara joins in. "I remember when Aang and your mother were there age. She'd run him around the same way. Well she was alittle apologetic." The old woman reminisced.

Lin didn't respond. You did remind her of her mother sometimes. With you witty responds and smile. Though she didn't see it much only when you spoke about earth bending or your new favorite book.

The metal bender it snapped out of her thoughts "Who's the father?" Bumi asks before earning a hard snake on the back of the head from Kya.

"Now Bumi,you shouldn't you pry. It's non of our business." Katara scolds.

Lin shifts "No,it's fine. He was a guy who I worked with here and there. He was nice, just didn't work out." Lin technically didn't lie, but didn't tell the full truth.

"Why'd you  keep her a secret?"Pema Pipes up. Lin only laughs. "She never was a secret. She's just is a quiet kid. Avoids the lime light."She smiles."Well except when it comes to earth bending or combat. She's very can become very competitive."

Before to long you two girls made your way to air temple Island.

It's been a few months since you meet Jinora. You currently where on the air ship helping fine new air benders, and to protect Korra with your mother. Though mainly that was her job.

"Hey (N/N)! Look what I found!"Jinora runs up the ramp of the air ship. Causing you to smile."What is it?" You asked the younger girl.

"It's a pamphlet for a fortune teller!"

"Ah, cool."

"Can you come with me?"She pleads."It'll be fun!"

"I don't believe in that stuff." You wave dismissively.

"I really want to go."She smiles. You glare but then your smile seeps through.

"Fine I guess it won't hurt anything. Come on."

You both make your way off the ship. After briefly telling your parents you're going into town to explore.

"I wonder what my fortune will be?" The metal bender smiles. "Jinora dear.Thake what they say with a grain of salt. It's a shame." She nods.

"It may be. I wanna see for my self if there's truth behind it."

The benders pause in front of a medium sized tent. "This is the place?"

"Yeah, come on."She grabs your hand.

"Welcome,welcome. How can I help you?" A old woman with long gray hair asks in a raspy voice.

"Hello, we're here to get our fortunes." The air bender response.

"I see. Why don't you and your sister follow me."The gray woman walks behind a large tapestry.

"We're not-"You begin to correct her before Jinora interrupts."Come on!"

"What do you see?"Jinora stairs intently at the woman reading her palm. "You will live a long life. All of your children will be powerful benders. Oh I'm getting something else." The woman  closes her eyes. "Someone you know they will push you away. You mustn't give up on them." She ends.

"Do you know who?"Jinora pushes.

"No, they did not say."You roll your eyes at the old woman.

"It's your turn miss.(Y/N)." The woman looks to you.

"I never told you my name." Your eyebrows cress in suspicion.

"I know."

You sit down in front of her.

"Let me see your hand." You reluctantly place your hand into her's.

"Your mother isn't around much. Your father has been absent all your life. You have mastered multiple sub forms of earth bending,sand bending, metalbending,and seismic sensing."Your shocked to say the least. "Okay, what else?"

She frowns "You marry a fire bender, one you never expected to fall for. You'll search for the truth of your origins, and get more than you asked for." This left you confused. "What do you mean?"

"I'm only the messager. I don't know anything else."

The metal bender stands."Thank you for your time."

You walk out the tent Jinora tailing after you.

"That was...strange."She says awkwardly.

"Eh, she could be lying. Why don't we go get some thing to eat?"

"Yeah,sounds good to me." Jinora agrees not wanting to push things.

Sorry I know that was bad...I only briefly looked over everything. So there might be some spelling errors. I hope you guys enjoyed. Feel free to leave request, or to ask questions.