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riddlecrux · 4 years ago

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Light seen through the windows: an analysis of windows as a literary tool in Elriel relationship

I would love to preface this meta with my favorite disclaimer that everything that I will be discussing is based on what I have gathered from SJM writing. The quotes used in this post will serve as a starting point for further analysis. Additionally, I will be using things such as symbolism, metaphors, and literary device methods to build up my reasoning and beliefs. On another note, this, as usual, is strictly pro-Elriel meta. If they are not your cup of tea and you wish to comment, please be civil and bring arguments supported by the text.

So many of us like to gaze and stare through the windows daily. Looking at the world behind the glass often is considered a form of tranquility that we feel. Windows are essentially doors that lead us to whatever lies behind them - the last border between being in one place and then in another. It isn't then surprising that windows serve as symbols and metaphors in literature. From the start, whenever I read a passage about windows in ACOWAR I was reminded of Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. You may ask why?

Emily Bronte used windows as symbolism in her work. They are very important for her characters and their personal arcs. They are symbols of barriers, misfortunes that characters face. Windows there are metaphors of various obstacles estranging Bronte's characters from achieving their hopes - realizing that the dreams they had will be not fulfilled. As I don't want to get spoilery with Wuthering Heights, I'm going to draw conclusions in a very neat manner. Bronte used windows as a connection to nightmares that one of the main characters was suffering from - it ties to the fact that in his nightmares he sees the person he had loved, haunting him. Because of the relationship with a said woman, the imagery of windows in this particular scene symbolizes death, an obstacle that stands between both of them. Throughout the book, we also get glimpses of how windows might be used as a metaphor for social classes and the contrast between them, and how Heathcliff and Catherine have to go about it. Along with the windows, doors are also used as a symbol of trapping someone in one place, obstructing them from achieving their dream or preventing them from reaching out to their loved one. Not to mention that during a very particular scene with Catherine, she wants the windows open - a symbolism of her wanting to feel free, to connect with something she knows, she longs for. This leads to the conclusion that windows in Bronte's novel are symbols of life and death, they are the in-between - a symbolic barrier.

On the other hand, windows in literature signalize something called "art of watching", and usually it is connected to a female protagonist that observes life, events through the window. Not to mention, the most famous association to windows such as "windows to the soul" - which, of course, is more metaphorical. It allows us, the audience, to connect with the character's inner feelings, struggles, as we are presented with the emotional aspect of said person. They are the bridge between the inside and outside. Windows are also a source of light, which we humans crave. Looking through the window one can absorb the light, which can resonate as a symbol of growth and change. Metaphorically we see the light from the window when we feel a need to light up the darkness inside us. They expose us, our inner feelings, and struggles.

When I read ACOWAR I have noticed that SJM decided to use windows, quite clearly, in the indication of two particular characters. Azriel and Elain. For the first time, when we met Elain again in the third book the window is a big issue.

"The suite was filled with sunlight. Every curtain shoved back as far as it could go, to let in as much sun as possible."

We have a clear description of the sunlit room, curtains shoved to further underline the need for light.

"And seated in a small chair before the sunniest of the windows, her back to us, was Elain."

In the brightest place in the room sits Elain, in front of the window. She is exposed to the sun, to sunlight and is absorbing that light - which is highlighted during this scene (which makes it important to note).

"Her skin was so pale it looked like fresh snow in the harsh light. I realized then that the color of death, of sorrow, was white."

The sunlight exposes Elain, its harsh light makes her pale, almost translucent. Even Feyre realizes the graveness of this picture comparing this white hue to death. As you can see the chain of events in this scene played like that: sunlit room -> curtain swept away -> Elain sitting in front of the window -> sudden comparison to death.

"She had been always so full of light. Perhaps that was why she now kept all the curtains open. To fill the void that existed where all of that light had once been. And now nothing remained."

Feyre deducts that the need for light on Elain's part is a desperate call to brighten the darkness inside her - which perfectly aligns with the metaphorical usage of windows. Elain basks in light in a helpless cry for help. The very dark void that appeared within her after being Made eats her away. It sucks her immortal life away - the one which she yet didn't get used to. On the other hand, we as readers are presented with the fact that Elain is trapped. In this Fae life, in this room, in this situation in which she grieves for her past and many what-ifs.

Nothing. Not even a flicker of emotion. ��Everyone keeps saying that.” Her thumb brushed the ring on her finger. “But it doesn’t fix anything, does it?”

Sitting in front of the window - a sunny one to be precise, which symbolizes life, growth, and change, Elain is presented in a contrast to her surroundings. To show that visible barrier that her person has to overcome. She realizes that her dreams are meant to be unfulfilled, that they are unreachable.

"My stiff, limping steps, at least, had eased into a smoother gait by the time I found Elain in the family library. Still staring at the window, but she was out of her room."

The next time we see Elain she is out of her room - her "cage", but even though she left the boundaries of her entrapment she still chooses to linger around the windows. As Feyre notices, Elain gazes through the window - we are obstructed from Elain's POV and it's hard to imagine what she could be thinking about. Yet the symbolic manner of using the window as some sort of mirror, a passage that happens throughout the series, allows me to think that the metaphorical usage of windows, in this case, isn't a far-fetched idea.

"Elain didn’t turn. She was wearing a pale pink gown that did little to complement her sallow skin, her brown-gold hair hanging in loose, heavy ringlets down her thin back."

SJM uses this sentence to highlight that it isn't just a quick glance out of the window - in fact, it is constant staring through it. It is important for us as readers to note that this thing, window gazing, is an occupation that lasts for long periods of time. It isn't something trivial, it is something that showcases the importance of said windows in Elain's journey.

“What are you looking at?” I asked Elain, keeping my voice soft. Casual. Her face was wan, her lips bloodless. But they moved—barely—as she said, “I can see so very far now. All the way to the sea.”

Feyre decides to ask Elain who is still gazing through the window. Her answer is very ominous and holds a great deal of importance, but also underlines the fact that she is drawn to the window. Not to mention that what she is seeing is the sea - another vastly discussed symbol. In this situation, I believe that the interpretation can lay in a more psychological aspect of the matter rather than a literary one. In the works of very well-known psychiatrist Carl Jung the sea "symbolizes the personal and the collective unconscious in dream interpretation". So from his notes there comes this annotation that caught my attention, "The sea is a favourite place for the birth of visions."

Elain is a seer who constantly gazes through a window which symbolizes the in-between, life and death. These two are connected to one another and SJM used many things to further develop Elain's character as a powerful figure.

"Elain only turned toward the sunny windows again, the light dancing in her hair."

After the whole conversation Elain doesn't move from her spot, quite the contrary she returns to her previous activity. Gazing through the window. Once again we are reminded about the sun and light - which signalizes that Elain tries to undergo through the process of rebirth, but also tries to break free from the unhappiness that came with lost dreams.

"Something in my chest cracked as Nesta’s eyes also went to the windows before Elain. To check, as I did, for whether they could be easily opened."

Here we have an instance of both sisters realizing that Elain spending so much time in front of windows can be dangerous, as in her attempting to jump from them. Once again, the symbolism of death.

"More steps—no doubt closer to where Elain stood at the window."

Elain is still beside the window when Lucien tries to talk to her. Even alone she seeks the place next to the window to stare.

"But sunlight on gold caught his eye—and Elain slowly turned from her vigil at the window."

Elain is still by the window, for the whole scene she is there not moving an inch from it. Furthermore, the word "vigil" is also an interesting choice. There are different meanings of it, but I find these ones very telling and suitable for this instance: a period of sleeplessness; insomnia, a watch kept, or the period of this and a devotional watching, or keeping awake, during the customary hours of sleep. We can speculate about what happened to Elain while she was in the Cauldron, what made her so withdrawn from life and so desperate for the light. I want to believe that we as readers will get our answers in the next book since Elain being a seer with unknown powers makes her a perfect target for Koschei with which she has already had connections.

She looked away—toward the windows. “I can hear your heart,” she said quietly.

Again, during the whole conversation, she doesn't move away from her spot next to the window. Windows for her, start to become a symbolism of change and rebirth - the things she probably wished while being confined to her room.

Elain only stared out the window, unaware—or uncaring.

We have another mention about staring - which further highlights how important windows are as a literary tool for Elain's character. She seeks light, she wants to overcome this barrier that was thrown at her the moment she was Made. She, perhaps, watched through the window to observe the life which was stripped away from her and turned her into this immortal being. Or, maybe she just desperately wanted to brighten up the darkness that gathered inside her because of that whole situation. Another important thing to note is that this scene is a first moment alone with Lucien - her mate, which should have been very painful for her. The conversation also held a lot of weight, yet she valiantly stood by the window as if somewhere behind it she could find an answer.

“So it can’t be a perfect system of matching. What if”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden —“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

Here we have an instance of "art of watching" in which Feyre observes Azriel and Elain through the window. By watching them she comes to the conclusion that both of them are better suited and actually can comfort each other in comfortable silence. The window here is used as a barrier to showcase parallels of two couples: happily mated Feysand and unhappily in love with other people Elriel.

"But I looked to Azriel, currently leaning against the wall beside the floor-to-ceiling window, shadows fluttering around him."

And here we are start with Azriel and windows (also in ACOWAR). He is another character that has an extraordinary connection to windows. He is often mentioned next to them and somehow parallels Elain's behavior - staring through windows, being near them.

"I blinked, realizing I’d been lost in the bond, but found Azriel still by the window, (...)."

As we can see Azriel lingers next to the window without moving away from it - as the scene progresses we know that the conversation lasts a good ounce of time, yet Azriel stands in his place by the window.

"Azriel didn’t so much as turn from his vigil at the window, though I could have sworn his wings tucked in a bit tighter."

The same wording, the same imagery. Both used for Elain and Azriel. Both of them keeping vigils at the windows, staring through them as if they could find an answer through them.

"The main room of the guardhouse was stuffy and cramped, more so with all of us in there, and though I offered Elain a seat by the sealed window, she remained standing—at the front of our company. Staring at the shut iron door."

This scene is when Elain is about to confront her lover - Greysen. It is underlined that she rejected her usual spot, which is by the window, and preferred to face the door. She was trapped, she knew that a very important discussion will take a place here. She chose to look at the door rather than at the window, which in this matter could symbolize hope for a change - she stared at the door which metaphorically means transition or imprisonment.

"(...) close to Elain’s side as she and my sister silently kept against the wall by the intact bay of windows."

Another instance of Elain and her being content with being next to the windows.

"I’d seen Elain staring out the window earlier—watching Graysen leave with his men without so much as a look back at her."

"Art of Watching", but also the window's symbolism of dreams that were unfulfilled. At that moment, we can assume, that Elain realized that her dreams concerning human life and her future with Greysen would only be unattainable dreams/hopes.

“What now?” Elain mused, at last answering my question from moments ago as her attention drifted to the windows facing the sunny street. That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this … I think the world needs more gardens.

At the end of ACOWAR, we have this powerful moment, in which Elain gazing out of the window sees sunny streets = life. A chance of rebirth, which also beautifully overlaps with the fact that she proposed building a garden! The in-between that she balanced on while gazing through the window for so many times turned from death and misfortunes into life and hopes of the future.

ACOFAS

"Elain politely refused, taking up a spot in one of the wooden chairs set in the bay of windows. Also typical."

From Rhysand's point of view, we can deduct that even they are aware of the fact that Elain and windows are something notable. It is a place where she feels comfortable and probably spends a lot of time.

"Beyond the windows, darkness had indeed fallen. The longest night of the year. I found Elain studying it, beautiful in her amethyst-colored gown. I made to move toward her, but someone beat me to it."

In previous quotes, we could gather information about how Elain craved the light and how desperate she was to lighten up her person. Here, we can see that she also started to embrace the darkness. She is again by the window, observing the darkness as if no one else was around her. And of course, the one person who goes towards her at that moment is Azriel, a personification of darkness in the books.

Azriel strode to the lone window at the end of the room and peered into the garden below. “I’ve never stayed in this room.” His midnight voice filled the space.

Azriel went straight to the window. And not an ordinary one, but the one through which you can see the garden. Life and light. I know many were theorizing if what kept Azriel so occupied by the window was Elain, but I would love to put some of my thoughts in this discourse. Yes, I do think that what caught his attention, or who caught his attention was Elain. However, Elain at that moment represents life and light - the things that are associated with windows. And if you spin it around you have Azriel=darkness, death staring at Elain=light, life. The in-between, the very initial symbolism of window in literature. Not to mention that in this scene we have Azriel watching the light and next we have Elain observing darkness.

“No,” Azriel said, not turning from the window.

Azriel remained at the window. “Will Nesta stay here if she comes?

“I’d still be surprised if they remember once the storm clears,” Azriel said, turning from the garden window at last.

We have a whole scene in which it is so heavily implied that Azriel was constantly staring through the window, not even bothering to move away from it. We also have another highlighted thing which is the fact that it was a garden window.

There was a tiny box left on the table by the window—a box that Mor lifted, squinted at the name tag, and said, “Az, this one’s for you.”

A small thing, yet a very sweet one. The fact that even his present was placed close to the window, which starts to become an Elriel thing.

ACOSF

"She’d barely slept for fear of Elain walking off this veranda, or leaning too far out of one of the countless windows, or simply throwing herself down those ten thousand stairs."

We have a reminder that during her stay at House of Wind, Elain was a symbol of death. She carried it on her while being associated with windows that were used as a source of light that helped her heal.

"Elain stood at the wall of windows, clad in a lilac gown whose close-fitting bodice showed how well her sister had filled out since those initial days in the Night Court."

Even when she visits Nesta, she takes the place by the windows. It is something that is strictly connected to her. As if the windows were part of her now.

Elain’s smile was as bright as the setting sun beyond the windows. “I thought I’d drop by to see how you were doing.”

Light, sun, life = Elain.

“You’ve got good coloring, I mean,” Elain clarified, striding from the windows to cross the room. She stopped a few feet away. As if holding herself back from the embrace she might have given.

SJM still used the passages to underline the passage of time that Elain spent standing next to the window. It is a place in which she feels good and perhaps safe.

"They’d sat in them, before this fire, so many times that it was an unspoken rule that Azriel’s was the one on the left, closer to the window, and Cassian’s the one to the right, closer to the door."

We also get the information that Azriel always was the closest to the window - which is an odd thing to add without a deeper meaning. As if to further build up that connection between him and Elain - that both of them are aware of the fact that they are also the symbolism of the allegory of windows. I believe that SJM really researched that light and darkness trope, with which she built and she is still building up Elriel. The windows are just another tiny nugget that further envelopes both of them as one. Because while Elain transformed from death to life, she still welcomed darkness and embraced it - and Azriel opened to the life and light, seeking it. As I said, windows are a literary tool, which perhaps wasn't the main idea in the SJM text, but the amount of parallels between both of them and even the same wording applied to different scenes tells me that it's yet another connection between them.

#elriel #pro elriel #elriel meta #azriel x elain #elain and azriel #pro elain #pro azriel

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yukiwrites · 4 years ago

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Balthus, Ruining Everything

Thank you so much for the support and the patience as always, @xpegasusuniverse! I hope you like it~

Summary: Khalid had returned home ready to work hard to become a worthy King so as to strengthen relations with Fódlan. However, bringing Balthus along was a terrible mistake, no matter how much of his own word he had given in the past. How could he ruin even a traditional sport of Almyra?!

Commission info HERE and HERE!

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Despite the eventual skirmishes against Fódlan, it wasn't as though the entirety of Almyra was focused on their shared border. It was a large country, with hundreds of thousands of people going on with their lives despite the war.

As diverse as its culture was, however, all of Almyra joined together to celebrate and participate in their most popular sport: the national Yağlı güreş. It was a practice Khalid had had little contact with throughout his life (especially after enrolling in the Officer's Academy), apart from watching his father's eventual matches during his childhood, so he was looking forward to organizing everything for this year's tournament.

He came back after the Yağlı güreş season had started around the kingdom, though he still had time to prepare for the Kırkpınar that would occur at the capitol, a few weeks from now. Since he was also accumulating more and more duties for the eventual ascension to the throne, Khalid welcomed the responsibility readily.

He would be in charge of overseeing the quality, quantity and storage of the oil; ordering the fields to be cleaned for the matches; sending out invitations to honored guests; preparing the venue; separating the budget for the eventual prize and so on.

The Grand Championship consisted not only of the winners from the provinces but also of wrestlers that lived in the capitol per se, with the last one standing to challenge the current Baspehlivan, Nader. Should they win, they would be allowed to choose between the prize money and a favor from the King -- though the former had so many restrictions barely anyone chose it, prefering to go with the money instead.

Khalid was almost humming to himself as he scratched his chin with the feather pen he was using to sign some reports.

His small bubble of joy burst the moment the door to his office opened with a bang, revealing the one 6'6'' oaf Khalid did not want to see for at least another decade.

"Hey there, bud!" Balthus greeted, already making himself comfortable on the chair in front of Claude's desk. "I got kicked outta the field just now 'cause they're terraforming or somethin'. You know anything about it?"

"Annnd my peace is gone, isn't it. I can feel it." Khalid muttered to himself, though loud enough for Balthus to hear and ignore. Sighing, the prince straightened his back, not even bothering to look at the man who's come to make a mess out of his family. "In a month, we'll be hosting the Grand Championship of Yağlı güreş, and I want everything to be done beforehand so there are no complications."

"Yagli- what's that? I saw some huge barrels being unloaded on my way here, too, do they have anything to do with this? Is it a party? Booze!?" Balthus got more and more excited as he prattled on, almost banging his huge hands on Claude's table.

Groaning, the prince finally put his pen down, afraid that that oaf would destroy anything, or worse -- mess up the piles of 'read' and 'unread' reports, which would take at least another day of work to organize again.

"Yağlı güreş means 'oil wrestling'. It's the oldest sport practiced in Almyra and also a national sport."

Balthus snorted, then placed his fist atop his palm, as though remembering something. "Wait, I saw some dudes doing something like that back in some underground arenas! I didn't know it was an almyran sport, though, nice."

"Yeah, 'nice'." Khalid rolled his eyes, intent on going back to his work.

Balthus didn't move, though, and just made himself comfortable on the chair, as though he intended to spend the time he couldn't spend training, bothering Claude instead. "Anything else?"

"Muh? Nah, I'm good, thanks."

"..." Khalid narrowed his eyes to the large man, placing his chin atop his clasped hands. "Hey, you know what? Why don't you try it?"

"What? Oil wrestling?" Balthus was so focused on rubbing the dirt from under his nail he had to blink to look up to Claude. "What's in it for me?"

"For one, you can train for it so you'll have your training grounds back. I'll even introduce you to an old Master who doesn't have ciraks so he can teach you everything about oil wrestling."

Balthus twisted his lips, shifting his weight towards Khalid as though waiting to hear something more. "Yeah? Sounds fun."

"... There's also prize money if you win."

"Oh yeah, babey, now you're talking!" Balthus jumped up, the action shaking Claude's table, threatening to mess up his papers. "Where's that Master?"

Khalid quickly slapped his stacks of documents before they all scattered due to the oaf's rough movements and sighed. "Call the attendant standing outside, I'll have him send word for you."

Balthus was taken outside the palace, to the Master's residence. From the looks of it, that man had been competing since his youth, but never found a pupil worthy of his skills -- though now he had to accept Balthus due to the royal decree, so he wasn't too happy about all of this.

However, once the master saw Balthus' physique, his attitude did a 180º change.

"I will show you the ways to win quickly. You're big, but your opponents will be more experienced, so you'll want to quickly slide your hands into their kispets to pin them down."

Balthus sputtered. "I gotta wha-"

"Of course, it is forbidden to get actually intimate with your opponent -- you'll have to be respectful! -- but as long as there are no genitalia touching, you'll do great." The man brushed his beard with one hand, waving to a servant with the other. "Now go on, change into your trousers. I'll show you everything I know."

"This is insane. I love it." Balthus gurgled a laugh as the master pushed him to follow the servant.

Truly there was no time for Balthus to learn the actual techniques, though him being a former soldier with stamina to spare was a major plus. These matches could go on for hours or even days, so one had to be thoroughly prepared before every single one of them.

Balthus even stayed over the master's manor for the duration of his training, which made Khalid incredibly thankful. The prince never thought the oaf would actually go through with it, but he wasn't about to complain about the peace and quiet he finally got, no way. Nope.

On the eve of the championship, the master invited Balthus for dinner, feeling excited about Yağlı güreş for the first time in a few decades. "Truly, the only worthy foe to ever enter the field was His Majesty Arash, though he was still only a prince back then."

Balthus stopped his fork immediately, his interest piqued. "... oh yeah? Arash was good at this back in the day, huh?" he licked his lips. "Can I fight him?"

"Pftt-ahah!" The old man snorted, coughing a laugh along with the tea he just drank. "You want to challenge the King to a bout, boy? Don't be ridiculous."

"No, I'm serious. How can I fight him?"

If he could get himself all over Arash while covered in oil, wouldn't that be amazing or what?!

Twisting his lips, the old man started thinking. "Well, if you really wanted to, I don't think there are restrictions about that if you use it as your prize from winning the championship."

"What? Wasn't it just money?"

"Technically it's all people pick, but you can choose between that or a wish for the King or Queen to grant. Though there are so many restrictions it's just easier to go with the money."

"Oh, fuck yes. I gotta win this." Balthus rolled his shoulders in anticipation. His chest even got all hot and bothered just by imagining his hands going down Arash's- hnn!

"Haha, that's the spirit, boy! Winning against Nader will be hard, but I wouldn't have trained you if I didn't think you couldn't win!"

The two shared a loud laugh before gulping down their drinks, both of them hopeful for tomorrow's events.

Khalid hadn't heard from Balthus ever since he'd sent him to train, so he was actually surprised to see him amongst the competitors -- even more so to watch him climb the ranks so quickly despite being a foreigner who just got introduced to the practice.

The audience murmured amongst themselves, wondering where that strange man had come from; a mix of not wanting outsiders to meddle with their beloved sport along with the right amount of excitement about the fresh meat on stage.

When Balthus, already so greasy he actually reflected light, started the match against the defending champion, Nader, Khalid felt a foreboding premonition.

What could it be? Why would he feel like that?

Was it because, no matter the outcome, Balthus would just return to the castle and keep bothering him? Or was it due to something else? Usually, his gut feelings were always right, but this time he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was warning him about.

Since everything pertaining to Balthus was just a big disgrace in Khalid's eyes. What else could that man do to ruin the prince's days?

"We have a winner! What a surprising turn of events! The outsider, Balthus, defeats our champion by paca kazik!"

"Paca kazik? How did he get so good?" Khalid murmured as Balthus kissed Nader's hand as it was customary before helping the older man up and giving him a huge thank you hug.

The announcer started the usual speech about allowing the competitor a choice, though was already meaning to introduce Khalid so the prince could handle the prize money to the winner when Balthus took a step forward.

"I want to have a wish granted!" He spoke in a loud voice, which reverberated through the open field as though he was using amplifying magic. The audience gasped in unison followed by the sound of all heads turning to the King and Queen who sat beside Khalid.

Tiana narrowed her eyes, always wary of the libertinous man. "Speak."

"I want to challenge the former Baspehlivan, His Majesty Arash, to a match!"

Loud gasps of surprise from all sides echoed around the field, the eyes alternating between the bold foreigner and the silent Royals.

"I will not-" Tiana started to reply immediately, but Arash's hand on hers stopped the Queen's words. Surprised, she looked at her husband, intent on not allowing that man near Arash, when the look on his face made her lose the air.

He was smiling so excitedly! It had been years since he had participated in a match and Tiana knew the sport meant a lot to him, especially since he held the title of Baspehlivan for over a decade before stepping down to ascend the throne. The Queen's shoulders sagged, though her frown remained.

"Dear, that man has no pure intentions-"

Arash ran his thumb through Tiana's hand. "I know, my dear wife. Worry not; I'll put him in his place."

Then it all clicked for Khalid.

That foreboding he felt wasn't about Balthus returning to the castle, but about him slathering himself with oil and rubbing it all on his own father! Gods, he was about to gag. "Father, you're not planning to-"

"I will accept your challenge!" Arash spoke in a loud voice, cutting his son and any curious murmur around the spectators. "Shall we being right away, contender?"

"Oh hell yeah, sir." Balthus rubbed his hands, hopping in place to get his blood flowing.

"Allow me to change," Arash got up from his seat, placing a kiss on Tiana before turning back to the changing room right outside.

Khalid shot up from his spot, stomping towards Balthus, who had gone into a tent to hydrate himself.

"What are you thinking? You could've just accepted the money and finally rid yourself of your debts-"

Balthus raised his index as he gulped the water. "Hah, and miss getting into your dad's pants? No way in hell, kid!"

Khalid took a step back, his face entirely pale. In your dad's pants, in your dad's pants, in your dad'-

"Ugh, yuck, I-" the prince gagged, covering his face with one hand lest he threw up there and then.

"Catch ya later, I'm about to get laid!" Balthus slapped Claude's back before stepping out of the tent, heading back to the center of the field just as Arash approached.

Khalid couldn't watch.

He just couldn't.

Once the referee signaled the start of the match, both men threw themselves at one another, sliding around the greasy grass from all the oil that slid down from the competitors.

Balthus almost broke the 'no intimate touching' rule three times in less than ten minutes, his huge hands not being of any help as he tried to literally get into Arash's pants.

That man was built like a rock! And Balthus had wrestled against many tough guys back in his day.

Gods, just feeling Arash's rasped breathing by his ear and feeling his hands try to grab his trousers made him-

"I'm having the time of my life here, Arash." Balthus panted as they slid off of each other for a moment before joining together one more time.

"Stop, stop, stooop, I can even hear it from this far!" Khalid covered his face with both hands, groaning so loud it looked like he was in physical pain.

The worst part was yet to come, however.

The match simply didn't end!

Both sides were almost evenly matched to the point that one couldn't get a definite grab on the other's trousers, stretching the match for one hour. Two hours.

When it was about to tick three hours, Khalid was already sure he was dead. He had died and came back to life at least five thousand times just by watching that pervert roll around his father for so long. The few times he stole glances at them, he could clearly see Balthus trying to break the rules, though Arash was always fast enough to counter it before being violated.

"Let this end, let this end, let this-" Khalid chanted under his breath with closed eyes, praying to every single god he knew of.

"Annd match! It seems like our former Grand Champion hasn't lost his edge yet, folks! Let's give a round of applause to our King, folks!" The announcer quickly got up from the place he had been sitting since one hour ago, dodging the greasy spots on the grass to approach the combatants.

Arash smirked to the fallen Balthus as the young man faced the sky with wide eyes.

"I lost?" He babbled as he watched the King walk away, the memory of that winning smirk etched into his mind. "That was... hot! What the fuck, and I thought they couldn't get hotter? This couple is turning out to be the best investment I've ever done in my life. No way I'm leaving this place now."

Too far away to hear Balthus' monologue, Khalid shuddered with yet another foreboding feeling. What else was Balthus going to ruin next?!

#fire emblem three hourses #fe3h #balthus fire emblem #claude fire emblem #khalid fire emblem #balthus #khalid #claude #my writings #Yuki's commissions

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darrenhen98 · 4 years ago

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The Descendants

Book 1:

Genesis

Chapter One:

November 4th, 2024. Edison New Jersey, Earth.

We had done it. The efforts of hundreds, if not thousands of people had come to fruition: a landslide victory for the brand new Equalist Party of America. Diya Anand scanned around the party office, taking in the momentous joy that had suddenly erupted amongst the volunteers and workers.

Just moments ago, the last state still counting their votes finally finished, putting the Equalists well ahead of both the Republicans and Democrats. It was assured, Dominick Moore would be the nation's second African American President, and her the first female Indian American Vice President.

As Diya walked amongst her colleagues, they began congratulating her on a job well done, wishing her the best of luck in the years ahead and most commonly, saying how happy they were to see a new face in the White House. Diya smiled, nodded and thanked all those who came up to her fervently shaking their hands and even shed a tear for one.

What she was really trying to do was transverse the crowd to get to the podium where Dominick was standing, since it is customary and necessary to address the people as their new leaders. As she reached the top, Diya smiled wide,

“Congratulations on your victory, Mr. President” , being sure to emphasize his new won title.

“Congratulations to you too, Madam Vice President” he said, returning the respect with a hint of playfulness which was hard to catch through his thick Nigerian accent. “Are you ready to change the nation for the better?

“I wouldn’t be standing here if I wasn’t Dom you know that” she replied. He began to say something else but just then news reporters pushed through the doors and poured in to stand in front of the podium. Like normal, they started barraging them with a multitude of questions, about how they felt, what would be their first actions and others that were lost in the torrent of sound.

After a few moments, Dominick finally got them to settle down as they needed to soon broadcast their victory speech. The camera’s soon flickered on, streaming their image to every news station in America and world-wide. Both Dominick and Diya were dressed in their cultures traditional attire: a well tailored Dashiki and Sari respectfully. The usual suit and tie and gown and pants had been thrown to the wayside at least for this instance. The American people needed to see the ethnic leaders they had voted for, and the new reality that was about to set in.

Dominick took the mic in hand, pushed his mask to the side and began, “I’d like to begin with stating how overjoyed I am. Not about winning the election but at the resolve of the American people. For the past eight years, we have had to fight countless battle after battle: wildfires in the west, massive storms and earthquakes in the Midwest, hurricanes and flooding in the east and two pandemics that changed the very core of our society. The past administrations had failed us, and we sought out new leaders, a new vision for the country. One that would let us tackle the challenges of climate change and other life changing issues…”

While Dominick kept speaking, Diya stood behind him smiling and nodding to the cameras whenever he said something that fell within the party’s platform. He was a great speaker, unlike her who most of the time did exactly this, stand behind him as he ran the show. But then it was her time to come up next to him and share her thoughts. As she did, as she spoke to millions of people across the world she couldn’t help but remember one thing in the back of her mind. She never even wanted the job in the first place.

As Diya was driven home by her security detail, she began to ponder how she had gotten to where she was now. She had been a judge, the closest she had ever wanted to come to politics. Many questioned her, how being in government meant you weren’t political but to her it was the best place to be apolitical.

You didn’t have to conscribe to any agreed upon base of actions, when a case reached her desk she went at it with the ethics she cultivated through her life and an understanding of the law she so fervently loved. But it all changed in 2020.

Everyone knew the presidential election was going to be a decisive one, but no one knew just how much. No one could tell who truly won, over a dozen states were flagged as “improper” because of their voting systems. The problems worsened as the incumbent president refused to leave office in a gambit to maintain power and the resulting riots tore through the nation. Every major city was hit, hundreds killed, thousands inquired and billions of dollars in property damage.

Through it all, Diya had stayed home wanting to weather out the crazy climate with her parents and siblings. She could still remember the fear in her families eyes, how they were utterly convinced this was the end of the life they knew. And as the riots raged, more tragedy struck.

Since so many young and capable people had been out protesting in such large numbers, another massive pandemic swept through the country. And then a super-hurricane hit Florida, an massive earthquake in the four corner states and… A lot of tragedies at once.

The next four years had proven to be one of extreme change and humanity for us. People started to band together like never before. Every place that was hit with something was helped by the very people in it. It was the citizens who helped themselves out of flooded homes and crushed buildings. It was parents and children who constantly made meals and clothes for the hundreds of homeless and sick. We didn’t ask our governments if we could, we just did.

And so Diya did just that, help all those she could. She quit as a judge and began organizing everything under the sun. Foodbanks, marches, fundraisers, if it was an event she was behind it. It was this type of cross-cultural, apolitical connectivity that the Equalist Party liked. They had formed under the noses of everyone, suddenly popping up around the nation with aid for all those ailed by the tragedies. No one really knows how they formed, but everyone knew how much they helped. In the end, the support they garnered was immense.

By 2022, the amount of support from the polls put them around 20% of the population. The following year, over 50% of the population. The online rallies broke the communication industry, almost every new politician that switches parties immediately gained thousands of followers. Which is where Diya's’ interactions with the Equalists started.

Having to coordinate resources and capabilities from her volunteer organization with the Equalists own outreach efforts, Diya virtually became a superstar overnight. Not that she wanted to in any way shape or form, helping from the shadows was her go to plan for the future. Work hard, help everyone, retire old, die older; that had been the plan.

Diya stepped out of the car waving a farewell to her driver only to be escorted into her home by the home security detail in front of her house. She smiled to the bodyguard as he held the door open and she walked in as the automated lights flickered on. She was about to put down her bag and wind down when her cell phone began to vibrate within.

“Hello?” she answered inquisitively, as she hadn’t known the number.

“Hey Diya, it’s me Leo,” the caller said.

An unexpected but gratuitous call. Diya immediately smiled and perked up a bit at the sound of his voice. Diya had met Leonidas, or Leo, over four years ago during one of the outreaches she had organized. They had immediately taken a liking to each other, having an unexplainable connection from day one. They had stayed in contact over the years, but with so much going on in his and her life, calls became less and less frequent.

“Oh it's great to hear from you, using someone else's sat phone this time? Diya asked, making the conclusion on her own.

“You got it. I hope this is okay, I just wanted to congratulate you on your amazing victory!” Leo exclaimed.

“Haha yea, amaaazing.” Diya groaned, emphasizing the sarcasm. “But you know what’s new with me and I have been talking about it for hours. How’s things on your end, last we spoke you just finished training”

“Yes Ma’am” Leo replied, realizing now that Diya was technically his superior. “I shipped out about about a week ago with the fleet. We’re somewhere in the Bay of Bengal, waiting to meet up with the Indian and Chinese before we make landfall. I called because I’m part of the second wave.”

“I see… well you know I’m not much for words, but I can make the exception for tonight” she mused.

“Haha thanks Diya, there are definitely a few things I want to get off my chest.” Leo continued. Leo and Diya talked things over for the rest of that night, never truly talking about anything important but that didn’t matter. Anything that could distract them from the different realities they now faced, was a blessing they couldn’t interrupt.

#science #politics #ficiton #science fiction #new story

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hectorandvarian · 5 years ago

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Fan fiction " Life on a new"

Greetings to you, my readers. And let's be clear: I disappointed you. Yes, I don't do posts at all. And that's very bad for you. I decided to tackle a lot of things and don't get anywhere in time.

I do not write theories, because there is nowhere to build them, and those theories that already exist - there are enough of them. And I don't do series reviews because I don't think you like it very much. And so I decided to share with you for now on what I'm working on. Over Fan Fiction.

In the center of the plot is one of my favorite characters - King Edmund. After the events of the series "Return of the King", our Dark King decides to hang out in the Kingdom of Corona, to be closer to his beloved son-Eugene. However, it is also the first time in his life is in a completely different place, unlike the Dark Kingdom. And he will have a lot of tests to adapt to a new life. I will not deviate from the actions of the Canon and worse on the contrary - I will expand them and plug the plot holes. I also plan to show my version of the events in the Dark Kingdom that preceded what we saw in S2. I will be very happy if you like it and leave your comment under my post. So I begin the Chapter,

«THE NEW HOME.»

Embraces.

The Dark heart of the King melted away, when, after a long and exhausting for the soul of the campaign, native son hugged him. He had waited many years for this, when at last his own blood would find him and give him love.

- Maybe I shouldn't have pushed you so hard, dad, - Eugene said quietly, slowly releasing Edmund.

- Nothing, son. I understand perfectly. I wasn't behaving in the right way either. Well, you know all about it without me.

A smile lit up Eugene's face, but then he thought about it. As he bent his head down, his face suddenly darkened, and there was no old amusement in his eyes.

- You said you came for the day, and only in order to give the belt said the man, carefully putting the gift his father on the bed - it turns out that you are leaving?

Edmund was lost in thought. The dark Kingdom was abandoned. Opal is now gone, and nothing keeps him from leaving the already completely lifeless Kingdom. And all the more, now son likes his, and he fears losing his father.

- Eugene, I want to see how you live here. And for that reason, I will remain in the Corona. At least for a couple of weeks.

- Super! Really super. Here are just two questions: what about Adira? She stayed there.

- Don't worry about her. I know this woman, and I know that in less than a week she too will leave this place.

- Okay, but what about you? Where will you live?

- Where I will to live... Question, likely, rhetorical.

***

- Your Majesty, I apologize for such a mistake - Rapunzel stood at the door, inviting Edmund to come into his room - This will not happen again. I promise.

- Nothing, nothing. I understand that my visit was unexpected, and therefore you did not expect me to stay the night.

The Dark king entered his room. It could not be compared to the king's bedchamber at home; Edmund could scarcely take three steps there. And the situation was quite simple: in the middle of the room stood a fireplace, on each side stood a wardrobe and a bedside table, and right across the street there is a king-sized bed. Lighting in the room was carried out with a pair of candlesticks. But there was not much room for Edmund; it was enough that his son was near.

- I apologize again for…

- No, no, don't, Princess. I already like this room.

- Wonderful! - Rapunzel clapped her hands, but quietly, so as not to Wake the other inhabitants of the castle, - Can you give clothes? I'm sure we have your size in our wardrobe.

- I beg your pardon, - said Edmund, sitting down on the bed. The mattress was moderately hard, which was definitely a good thing - I'll sleep like this.

- Right in the armor? Your Majesty, I understand you, truth, but our castle not so dangerous place, to even fall asleep in armor, - girl several seconds has kept glance on king, after what has shaken head, - However, this your choice. Good night, your Majesty. And welcome to the Corona.

- The same to you, Princess, - said Edmund. He waited until Rapunzel was far enough away and closed the door.

Well, that's all. The day was moderately cheerful, moderately insane, but definitely useful. Edmund took off his metal boots for decency and placed them beside the bed. He lay on his side and looked out the window. The moonlight lit up the sky.

But it had been a couple of hours, but the king could not sleep. Thoughts so and were born in anybody, as if from spiritual forge. Now that he was alone, in silence, he finally realized how big a decision it had been to stay in Corona, even for a couple of weeks. For the first time in his life Edmund found himself in a completely different place, where there is different rules where you live absolutely other people.

Even the surrounding atmosphere began to squeeze the space around. There was no that let and gloomy, dark, but native spirit. It was not the purpose for which Edmund was spending all of his physical strength. No one knew him except Eugene and his friends. It was as if he were in another world.

Edmund's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a crow's cry. It was Hamuel, a close friend and adviser. He looked at his king with his customary smile.

- Hello, old friend, - said Edmund, rising a little, and stretching out his hand to let the Raven sit on it, - How do you like this place?

In response, Raven only cried. The man smiled faintly; he had begun to understand and distinguish the sounds of Hamuel over the years. Despite his appearance and clumsiness, he was a good conversationalist. Also with him can be was support any subject.

- I don't even know where to go next. But I can't stand still. I need a goal for the day.

He turned his head slightly and flew to the window. Edmund pulled himself up to the spot and saw what looked like a market in the distance.

- That's brilliant, Hamuel! I never doubted it, - said Edmund.…

- Hey, bear, stop growling," came the hoarse voice of the old woman, coming from the floor at the top, - it's impossible to Sleep!

The king had forgotten that he was now surrounded by a great number of people, and he must think of them all. He had done so before, but now all the people he had protected from the power of the Moonstone were right below him, above him, beside him. Anyway, Edmund finally found something to do for tomorrow. And this is a good reason to smile.

#fanfic #fan fiction #tangled the series #tangled season 3 #king edmund #tts edmund #tts eugene #tts rapunzel #rapunzels tangled adventure

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kaimaciel · 6 years ago

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Q: In terms of the story in the Pixar worlds, it was a continuation of the stories in the movies, which surprised me.

A: Well, originally, the KH series has always seen Sora and his friends experiencing the [same] plot of the original movies as its basis, and [the worlds of] Tangled and Frozen are like this, too. However, in the cases of Toy Story and Monsters Inc, we were requested to show the "authorized history" of what happened after the events of the movies. Whichever [story] pattern the worlds have was largely influenced by the ideas of the creators and producers.

Q: Included in the worlds that appear this time is Olympus, which is a fairly "regular customer" at this point; do you have some emotional attachment to it?

A: Honestly, there isn't really a special reason, it's just by chance. It appears in KH3 since Sora has lost all of his powers and needs to get them back, and there was once a hero who regained his own powers in the same way, so it was a perfect fit for the start of the journey. If there's anything I have an emotional attachment to, it's that I wanted to include Hades. Hades is a fun character, so you kind of want to watch him [do things].

Q: On the other hand, The Caribbean [in terms of graphics] looks incredibly like real life.

A: In a sense, the high image quality of that world was already decided. Around the time development started, in the video that was prepared for the in-house presentation meeting, scenes were created showing Sora diving in the ocean and riding enemies while flying in the air in The Caribbean. Additionally, the experimental reproduction of certain scenes from the movie [that were included] were so well made that they might as well have been the highlight of the meeting. From that point on, around the beginning of development, it was felt that that world would be quite high-level. By the way, the coat Sora wears in The Caribbean is actually based on one of my own personal coats that I gave to the staff with instructions to include it, but I feel like they don't want to give it back yet [laughs].

Q: Talking about Sora's appearance in the various worlds, the way he looks in Monstropolis is pretty daring.

A: At first, I was thinking about something similar to the monster costume Boo wears in the movie, but Pixar gave the idea to actually change [Sora] into a monster. In Monsters Inc., there are a lot of detailed rules concerning character design, like the colors that can be used or the shape of the eyes, so after the design that was made to obey those rules was checked, I went and did the fine-tuning myself. Particularly, at the beginning, I couldn't give Sora's body a smooth feeling, so I covered him with fur, but Pixar pointed out that I shouldn't make him look too much like a cat, so trying to find middle ground was a struggle. That's why, although it looks like Sora has cat ears, those are actually horns [laughs].

Q: For example, it was shown in KH2 that the Ansem that appears in KH1 wasn't the real one, but was this decided ever since the beginning?

A: When I wrote the scenario in KH1, even I was thinking "Ansem calls himself wise, but doesn't he seem like a bad guy?" [laughs]. With that feeling as the catalyst, the scenes after KH2 reflected that. Q: Xigbar, too; when he appeared in KH2, we had no idea he would be such an important person.

A: A lot of people say this, but at the time I wanted to show that "Xigbar is a character with a very special role" by giving him a suspicious way of acting. When we were doing dubbing for KH2, I listened to Houchu Otsuka (the JP VA of Xigbar)'s voice and thought, "This guy isn't just some organization grunt, there's definitely some hidden side to him", so the creation of the current situation evolved from there. It does sometimes happen that I get inspired to change the circumstances because of the voice actors' voices.

Q: The Final World, a place very important to the story, appeared in the game, but what kind of world is it?

A: It is a place where those just a step from death arrive, connected to the Station of Waking. Up until now, the Station of Waking was always a dark place where the floor was made of stained glass, where the condition of the inside of one's heart could be shown, but in this case I made The Final World a place where I could show [that] more concretely, a place similar to a portal to [people's] respective hearts. Within the game, it's said that sleep and death are intimately linked, so if one's heart were in a state of sleep and they found themselves in the Station of Waking, the idea is that if they moved on from there, they would find themselves in The Final World.

Q: Halfway through the epilogue, we see that there are seven black pieces being used in the new game [of chess]. Are six of these supposed to represent the Master of Masters' six apprentices?

A: Yes.

Q: I see. Then, continuing on, I'd like to ask about the secret movie; is the location connected to the ending? A: Yes. After disappearing in the ending, Sora arrives in the world shown in the secret movie. Q: Is the place Sora is in the same world as the one in The World Ends With You?

A: It looks that way. However, rather than saying Sora has gone to the TWEWY world, the meaning is that it's not exactly Shibuya, but ~Shibuya~ (note: this is hard to explain in English, but instead of it being written in kanji, the name for "Shibuya" is written in katakana here. This basically means it's not the same Shibuya as in TWEWY or in the real world.) Also, although Sora promised Neku and his friends that they would meet again in Shibuya, this video is not connected to that.

Q: The world Riku is in also calls up past memories with its thrilling background scenery. The man looking down from the roof looks like Yozora, who we saw in the popular game "Verum Rex" in Toy Box...

A: Yes, it is Yozora. Q: So, is this the world of "Verum Rex?"

A: It will end up being. Visually speaking, I'm sure there are people who will think it's the same as a previous title I was once planning, but it's not. Since it's a plan that was never released out into the world, there are parts I was saving that will end up overlapping, but "Verum Rex" is a completely different creation. The plan that was never released is still unknown to everyone, and "Verum Rex" doesn't exist yet, either, so I'm sure everyone is wondering what it means, but what I want to make clear is that it's not the same thing. (note: obviously, he means FF Versus XIII)

Q: How is the development of the planned DLC going?

A: Currently, I gave a list of things I'd like to have done concerning battles to the staff, who are in the process of going through it. As for additional scenarios, I told you just before that the final battle in the Keyblade Graveyard came to be [the way it is] because of a certain intention I had, so I think that's going to be the main focus. I'm hoping that it will be completed as soon as possible, but because development is happening alongside the preparations for the next project, I can't say with certainty when it will be released. For the time being, it's planned that instead of splitting up all the parts separately, everything will be released all in one pack together. Q: Are you not planning to release a "Final Mix", as has been customary for the KH series until now?

A: There aren't any plans for a "Final Mix"-type package (sold separately). If I do make one, it would be in the form of DLC that included an English mode you could switch to. Additionally, we took recent player trends into account when we created the battles [for KH3], so we held back on the difficulty level, but there have been many requests to fight strong enemies, so I'm thinking that the priority would be on releasing a critical mode in the form of free DLC, and making the addition of strong enemies, the sort that would appear in a "Final Mix", paid DLC.

Q: Now that the Dark Seeker arc has concluded, there's a pause in the KH series, so now what is your attitude mentally?

A: I thought I'd feel relieved once it was over, but I don't feel that way at all. Now we're right in the midst of developing DLC, and it's coinciding with [the development of] a few other titles. I want to hurry up and start on the next project, so I don't feel like there's a pause. Q: Fans are curious about what's to come for the KH series...

A: Nothing has been officially decided yet, so at this point in time, I can't say anything. Right now, the top priority is on making DLC for KH3, and a huge update that's coming to KHUx. As far as the developments to come, I currently have two ideas, and something that requires me to think about it separately, so the next project will actually have to be two, I think. Even if we're talking about a hypothetical "KH4", there's something that must be written before it, so I'm looking into the possibility of sandwiching it between works. To all the fans: to realize the first step beyond the Dark Seeker arc, I thank you for your continued support.

#kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts 3 #tetsuya nomura

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veridium · 6 years ago

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A Wedding At Skyhold (P. 1/2)

I had this head canon in my daydreams for the last week, ever since I started conceptualizing some relationship and friendship arcs with the introduction of Veronica, Naomi, and Olivia to Skyhold. Also, #OLIVANDRA.

Word Count: 3,808

Summary: Two Scouts get married in Skyhold, prompting Theia to take advantage of a happy occasion to host a fortress celebration. The romance and happiness in the air soften up a few of the Inquisitions’ allies, and lead to some heartfelt mischief. A lot of Gay shit(tm) happens.

Very few types of occasions inspired glee in the Skyhold fortress -- winning battles, getting new uniforms and weapons, the birth of children, and weddings. Tonight, it was the last one. A pair of Scouts, having long-traveled together before enlisting in the Inquisition’s forces, found they had one-too-many near-death experiences to warrant remaining unwed. So, when they came to Mother Giselle for assistance, she in turn went to the Inquisitor with the news and for some sort of approval. Theia, not one to hold back romance, gave her wholehearted blessing one one condition: they could have a proper celebration, using the fortress grounds as the space.

Josephine was jubilant when her Love brought the issue to her attention, and found some spare coinage here and there to send for some tasteful decorative fabrics, tables, and of course food and drink befitting such an occasion. Their efforts were encouraged by the Spymaster who had supervised the couple in their work -- they were two of her best people, and she believed they deserved the reward of one happy and carefree evening.

As the sun went down, the Fortress’s population of professionals across a myriad of race and class lines came together to celebrate the couple. They had elected to marry in private, secluded from the energetic crowd in order to honor just how long they had traversed the world with only the other as back-up to their misadventures. But, as they exited from the Fortress Gardens, generous applause erupted through the crowd. There couldn’t have been any less than a hundred people present for their reception and party.

Everyone had, indeed, taken the chance to dust off their formal wear from their own respective backgrounds: gowns, coats, fur trim, embellishments, with every kind of origin from Tevinter to the Free Marches. It was a relief to feel comfortable in your own skin, not tightened up in Winter Palace regalia, or cinched in armor.

The long, rectangular banquet tables were designed as a square frame around the dance floor, which was grass and dirt instead of marble, but it would do. Strings of paper lanterns had been leveraged between rooftops -- special appreciation was in order for Cole and Sera, who had the dexterity and rooftop access to do so -- which illuminated the grounds in the evening darkness quite well. The night was rich and romantic, and you could almost forget that everyone there had been calloused and effected by such an ugly time of war. Such a seductive atmosphere might prove fruitful for those who sought out its pleasures.

Watching the couple dance in between a flurry of other swinging and spinning couples, Theia held her chalice to her smiling lips. She stood beside her Lover and Chief Ambassador, and both women looked like visions ready to be encapsulated in portraits: Theia, wearing a heather grey gown with off-shoulder long sleeves, trimmed with a lighter grey fur, with beautiful embroidery on the bodice in light blue and white colors. Josephine had managed to find a spare gown from her trunk sent from her home offices, one customary to wear for such occasions: gold, billowy in shape, but beautifully tailored to show off her figure.

Also at their side of the table, Lady Olivia was poised in her seat, dressed in a simple but refined black gown with a wide, blue-grey sash wrapped around her waist. The skirt was short, tea-length, and perfect for dancing. Beside was Sera, who had managed to borrow a dress from one of the well-meaning pub girls: the country dress fit her well for a lended outfit, the puffy short-sleeves and corset bodice making her look more carefree and dainty than she had ever been.

Somewhere, Vivienne was amusing herself, too, with the visuals of the celebration. She had done much to inspire intimidation amongst Inquisition personnel, but even she had a weakness for romantic affairs. Losing the Duke only recently, she found solace in the distraction, if temporarily. Sometimes, a memory would resurface and inspire melancholy, but, those moments became fewer and farther in-between as the days went on.

Her drinking and sneering companion, Dorian, also provided a sufficient distraction from her sadness. He had hardly stopped laughing, joking, and teasing all evening. At one point, he even made Cullen blush -- Cullen, of all people -- with a backhanded compliment referring to the fit of his overcoat in proportion to his shoes. Vivienne didn’t pay enough attention to know any further details than that.

Veronica, having danced two rounds of songs which sent her into a jubilant sweat, swayed herself over to Theia who was holding back laughter at such a sight.

“Friend, you really must join in, we all know you have the guts!” Veronica teased, grabbing Theia’s hand and pulling her around in a circle that was dizzy before it even started. Theia went along with it, giggling with affection before pulling herself back down to Earth.

“Not yet, I’m afraid!” she replied, stepping back to Josephine’s side, “I am trying to let the wine sink in before I open myself up to embarrassment.”

“My Love, if you can dance in the den of Halamshiral’s intrigues, you can manage a quaint country dance,” Josephine critiqued, a sly grin on her lips. It turned into a smile when Theia’s eyes were on her, humorously betrayed by her Lover’s disagreement.

“Why don’t you dance with the Ambassador, then, Veronica? I’m sure you both could spend the song gossiping about me and my shortcomings.”

Veronica grabbed a chalice she surely didn’t know belonged to her for sure or not, and took a swig. Swallowing roughly and with vigor, she scoffed. “Theia, we do that all hours of the day, it’s hardly sacrosant. Fine then, I suppose I can go make Cullen trip all over his words again when I ask him,”

“Veronica, don’t eat my Commander alive,” Theia’s eyes narrowed as she tried to keep herself from looking to mischievous.

“Surely not, I haven’t the room for so much...fiber,” she winked as she retreated to the crowd in search of her surefire entertainment. Theia shook her head, more amused than she wanted to admit. Cullen had always been so stiff and unrelenting in his stoicism, and Veronica was a hitch in his confidence. She only hoped that he didn’t feel it to be a serious thing, and that he could tell she was playful and not sincere.

Such a conflict would be rather awkward to unpack around the Council table.

Theia turned to her Lover and wrapped a hand around her waist, pulling her in closer as she felt the butterflies in her stomach that this woman still gave her after months of ups and downs.

“Thank you for putting this all together. I am sure it came at no small cost,” Theia cooed, her face close to Josephine’s to the point where their noses could touch. The Ambassador, smiling smugly amongst her handiwork, was nothing but satisfied.

“It is good to keep in practice for such events. It is also incredibly romantic,” she admitted, resting a hand on Theia’s chest. Feeling that no one was staring at them too much, they exchanged a sweet and lingering kiss. They dreamt of such experiences where no war loomed, no battle was being recovered from, and they could enjoy each other in the glowing nature of an evening.

A bit later on, Cole had proven a more surprising guest. His first greeting was with the Seeker of all people, who hung back, leaning on one of the wood beams that had been dug into the ground to support the lanterns’ strings. She held her wine chalice to her chest, a subtle grin on her lips as she observed all of the lighthearted happiness in the scene around her. Her own romantic heart was blooming underneath her taciturn shell, and she felt bashful for even allowing it to happen, but, sometimes it was unavoidable.

Feeling his presence, and having become less disturbed by the way it materialized out of thin air, she feigned ambivalence.

“You are humming along even when you do not know the song,” Cole greeted in his own way.

“Hello, Cole,” she sighed, knowing what was to ensue if she were to engage with him. More deciphering of intimate thoughts, more battling with mortification.

“Seeker. Seeking relief, seeking something real. Seeking sense of it all. You turn and turn and turn, pacing, in and out of the truth. Your title is irony.”

“Cole, please,” she protested half-heartedly, knowing such efforts were futile. “Now is not...the time, Cole.”

“Now is always time, Cassandra. She smells of oils and flowers. People tried to drown you in them before, but now you find you like them more.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea of what you--”

From yards away, there was an enunciated giggling from a warm and light voice. Both of them turned to look, and saw a fair maiden wearing a black dancing dress. She had her hair braided and tucked in a bun similar in style to Josephine’s signature look, but now, it was being improved upon by several children’s hands sticking flowers in it. Olivia, charmed beyond all comprehension, was giggling in reaction to the ticklish sensation their hands evoked, clamoring for her hair and skin like she was a doll come to life.

Little girls, hair braided like hers, but more frizzy and youthful. More wild. Crouched between them all on the ground, her skirt spread around her, Olivia looked like a benevolent Princess from somewhere far away, in both space and time. Her smile lighting the space like the lanterns did.

“She is calcified butterfly wings. Graceful grief. The sour taste of silver jewelry on the tongue. She spreads joy to cloak her pain.”

Cassandra heard his narration for the most endearing scene, and a pang of melancholy hit her chest. She had meant to ask Theia for more background on this woman, but hadn’t gathered the courage to do so without feeling that she was letting onto something she didn’t quite understand within herself. Watching her act as if the world was endlessly beautiful, and there was boundless hope, even if what Cole had said was true and she was hurting on the inside. It was rather special.

Cole had disappeared, leaving Cassandra to her own devices. Ushering some courage, or maybe just foolishness, she made her approach to the scene. The children one-by-one turned and looked at her with intimidated concern as the tall, dark, and angry person they had seen training approached their person.

“You can’t have her, she’s ours!” one of them exclaimed, before rushing and hiding behind Olivia’s back. The girl with the brown pigtails, spunky, but shoddy on the follow-through. Olivia grew concerned and looked up to see her conversation companion, standing and looking like she didn’t know what to do with herself.

Cassandra stuttered a bit, before clearing her throat. The child hiding behind Olivia clamped onto her shoulders with protectiveness.

“Lady Olivia, I…” her false start made the children more nervous as to what her intentions were, exactly.

Olivia watched her for a moment, and the awkward silence was endearing to her. Assuming she knew what the Seeker sought out, she giggled warmly.

“Lilly,” she said, guiding the child who was using her as a shield back around to face her, holding her hand, “She is my friend, and I am in no danger. Run along, we have top secret Inquisition business to attend to,” her dramatic enunciation of “top secret” made her sound like a theatrical school teacher, and not a refined Lady of Court.

Lilly pouted, but when her friends started to retreat back into the crowd, she nodded in obedience and skipped away. Olivia watched her go, remaining crouched on the ground for a moment more before rising to her feet. The flowers in her hair were enough to make her notice a heaviness in her hairdo. Dusting off her hands, she turned her attention back to Cassandra, who looked relieved not to have to deal with the wrath of a herd of tiny humans.

“Yes, Seeker? Have I misfiled a report again, or perhaps failed to put away tools?” she teased, referencing Cassandra’s acute need to nit-pick the way Olivia took care of her tools and resources.

“No, those were accounted for,” Cassandra didn’t exactly catch onto the point of the joke; her sincere answer made Olivia smirk, which in turn confused her as to why she found a serious answer so comical.

“Then?”

“I...wondered if you were perhaps in need of a conversational partner, this evening.” This was a rough learning curve for the Seeker, who wasn’t used to being masterful in technique.

Olivia’s head flinched backward in surprise, her eyes blinking so as to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. “You, propositioning me for company?”

“I...would not say ‘proposition’ is the right word, but, yes. After all, these events do call for it.”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Seeker. Maybe you need some water, or wine?”

“No, I am quite fine. I just…” Cassandra exhaled, turning and eyeing the dancing and laughing bodies around them. Feeling the warm ebb and flow all of this gave off was a sharp contrast to the unfamiliar nervousness she felt internally.

“Seeker?” Olivia broke her escapism.

Cassandra’s face snapped back to the present moment, and her eyes made contact with Olivia’s. The warm hazel in her irises were beautifully illuminated in the latern light.

“Let’s...go for a stroll to truly appreciate the party’s aesthetics, then?” Olivia suggested something that wouldn’t mean a heavy amount of talking. It seemed like Cassandra was struggling with words tonight. Maybe she would ask Theia later if perhaps the Seeker was drunk all along and this was simply her personality when intoxicated.

“Yes, that sounds...wonderful, actually,” Cassandra released the tension in her chest, and she turned so as to begin their turn around the party’s perimeter.

Her relief was curbed by the sight of Olivia’s broad and genuine smile. She never had a woman’s smile be this interruptive before. As she felt Olivia’s arm wrap around the crook of her elbow, so as to be escorted by the Seeker’s taller frame, she felt even more warmth tingle under her skin.

As they began to walk, Cassandra caught a look of Olivia’s bare feet out of the corner of her eye. It was such a perfect touch to this woman’s presentation: her flowy dress, dark-colored but charming, and her hair tousled up with flowers dangling and nestled in its twists. All of that, and then her bare feet.

Maker, help her.

“Do you like weddings, Seeker?”

“You may call me Cassandra, since you have already done so once.”

“Oh, splendid! I do like your name. It reminds me of some far and away heroine who crushes mountains with her bare hands and then strings a mandolin by the river in her down time.”

Cassandra smirked. “Do you always have such colorful imaginations about things that are otherwise benign in nature?”

“Nothing is benign in nature, Cassandra, except for maybe men.”

Their walking was uneven at first as both women adjusted to the pace and gate of the other: Cassandra carried a good deal of weight in her chest and shoulders, almost as if she were marching or patrolling somewhere. Then, there was Olivia, who’s hips swayed to hold her dancer’s frame.

“You still haven’t answered my question: do you find weddings entertaining to you?”

“At times, yes. Although in Orlais, they usually involve a nauseating amount of opulence and superficial people.”

“Ah, yes, blasted Orlais with our feckless adoration for trivial riches and rivalries. It is a wonder how we get anything done, let alone fuel the flames of an Empire.”

“Such a natural disaster would suggest actual productivity,” Cassandra retorted.

Olivia chuckled, habitually leaning into Cassandra’s soldier as if she were a swarthy officer or chevalier. It made Cassandra uneasy, but not in a negative way.

“Even you, Lady Pentaghast, cannot cast all of Orlais’s ingredients into the fire. Some of your closest allies are Orlesian in heritage, do they yet prove exceptions to your rules?”

“Taking issue with an institution and not its people is the wiser course, naturally.”

“Have you extended such principles to Mages, then? Or are we the great caveat?”

A pause, wherein Cassandra had to admit she was rhetorically cornered. Her self-consciousness of opinion wasn’t a familiar sensation to her: in fact, she was known for defending with her mouth when engaging in discourse. Theia of all people understood just how acute and definitive she could be.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Olivia’s continued chuckling. “You treat every conversation as if it is hand-to-hand combat, don’t you?”

“Only when I have an adversary worthy of such concern.”

“Which is all the day long, then?”

“Here, perhaps yes.”

“Then, we should spar literally some time. When you feel like giving that straw man of yours the day off, to be sure.”

Cassandra grinned on one side of her mouth. “You actually think that to be a good idea? Would the Inquisitor approve?”

Olivia gasped humorously. “Theia is not my keeper. I am no man’s captive and no woman’s caged pet. I am able to pull a weapon and make a challenge just as Veronica is, or Theia, or anyone here. Especially you.”

“Fine. I will accept, on one condition,”

Olivia felt them come to a stop, having made one full loop around the party and returning the area where they had initially greeted. She pulled away and turned to front-face her, eyes curious and mouth parted slightly.

“Yes?”

“That you continue to remain open to these conversations, even if I outsmart you in combat.”

At that, Olivia placed her hand on her chest demurely and laughed, even going so far as to lean her head back. Cassandra’s eyes narrowed, but she couldn’t help but grin, the competitiveness in her character unavoidable.

“Oh, Seeker,” Olivia employed the woman’s title, “women like you don’t do well with the tactics I utilize. We shall see who’s knocked on their back breathless first.”

From the other side of the yard, Theia was going for another chalice of wine. She ran into her ally and friend, Varric, taking in the scene. Theia assumed it was for the writing he would do later on; she would enjoy reading this part of the story, if that was what his plans were.

“Varric, so glad to see you,” she greeted, coming to stand at his side to people watch alongside him.

“Inquisitor, in rare form,” he greeted, folding his arms with his own glass in hand, “how are you enjoying yourself?”

“Quite well. Though, I don’t think this party’s for me, this time.”

“Touche. Though, I would hate to see a party where you were having a horrible time.”

“Those usually provide outlets for my anger via slaying demons and fending off time magic.”

Varric chuckled, before reaching his glass over to hers and clinking the two together. Cheers to that, his actions said.

A minute of silent observation ensued, both of them having pleasant faces in doing so. Everyone seemed so unbound by the perils of their jobs here, finding the sweetest kind of reprieve from the Inquisition’s titular role. It was a grand sight to remember, and still sort of surreal. Theia had to remind herself that these moments counted, too, and were no less real or important than her days spent out in the field, or in the Council room negotiating.

“I heard a rumor that Leliana will try to coerce Josephine into a Bard’s duet for the entertainment portion of this reception,” Varric said over his shoulder, “is that true?”

Theia bit back a surprised laugh. “Leliana would be the one to convince Josephine of anything. Still, I have doubts Maryden will want the accompaniment.”

“That’s true. Perhaps next time, when there’s more options for the hard stuff to be drunk.”

The Inquisitor winked his way, seeming to say oh of course, because I will ensure it myself. They both smiled fiendishly at one another. When Dorian approached, they were all the more ready for some more gleeful talk.

“My friend, I am afraid your keen eyes are starting to fail you,” Dorian jested, crossing his arms as he, too, joined the ensemble of people-watchers.

“I’m sorry, Dorian?” Theia’s brow furrowed. Both her and Varric started to take generous gulps of their wine. Dorian watched them carefully, waiting for his response to come at just the right time.

“Oh, surely you have seen. Just over there, past the table with the frilly flowers and the couple necking like they’re in a dank Denerim back alley?”

Theia’s left eye opened to peer quickly, her head tilted mid-gulp. Blurry at first, but then, she saw what looked like a familiar head of short, raven black hair. Was it the Seeker? Yes, and then next to her, a more petite woman, blonde and golden in complexion. Only one woman she knew looked like a walking piece of ornamental jewelry.

A brief few seconds, and then, splash.

Both the Inquisitor and Varric spat and choked on their wine, a shallow spray of red liquid coming from Theia’s lips as she tried to avoid her gown skirts. Varric got some in his nose, the poor bastard, and was coughing and choking for mercy.

Dorian, smug in his success at making them look like fools, made one last dig.

“Ah, yes, now you’ve seen it. Quite unnatural, of course. Since when do Inquisition personnel dip their toes in sexual misadventures?”

Theia had regained enough composure to narrow her gaze in on him, feeling the slight ironic sting of that comment which implicated both of them. But Cassandra? That seemed far too unrealistic.

She whipped her head back to see that they, were, in fact, walking together. Olivia, her dear and most alluring friend, and Cassandra, who was joked about being the human personification of granite. How was that factoring?

Varric, now recovering as well, wiped his mouth on his shirt sleeve.

“Maker, I never thought this would actually happen. Dammit, I owe Hawke fifty sovereigns.”

From a few yards away, a shrill voice corrected the rogue: “And you owe me ten, Varry!” Sera, having also had her eyes on the developments, was giddy in her victory.

Theia raised her brows as she looked at Varric, an expression of wanting an explanation.

“What?” Varric shrugged his shoulders, “That’s your friend, too. Both of them, actually.”

He was right. They were both some of her closest companions, allies, and confidants. And they were getting cozy. Feeling hypocritical for being concerned, she bit her lip.

“Dorian, remind me to find the next opportunity possible for me to make you choke wine through your nose.”

#oc stuff #Theia Trevelyan #Theiaphine #cassandra pentaghast #Varric Tethras #Dorian Pavus #Josephine Montilyet #Inquisitor x Josephine #Olivandra #Fluff and Fluff and Fluff #But Good Fluff

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impracticaldemon · 7 years ago

Text

Chaos Theory: Sasuke Ch. 2

by impracticaldemon

Chapter 2: The Oda Strike Back

Author's Note: The sequel to my first Ikesen Sasuke story (Do You Have a Fever?). Welcome to chapter 2. Chapter 2 still isn't ns/fw. Sorry. On the bright side: Mitsuhide. Also, Chapter 3 is also done and much steamier.

Thank you to all for your support, kind notes, reviews, fun tags and so on!

~ Impracticaldemon [Read on FFN HERE]

The Oda Strike Back

I didn't see Sasuke for over a week after The Episode of the Wardrobe Malfunction (also playing in my embarrassing moments highlight reel as The Day I Got High and Snuggled Sasuke). A week wasn't actually very long, but I harboured deep suspicions that his buddy Yukimura was keeping him away with comments like, "You can't trust those wild boar women, Sasuke—show even a moment's weakness, and they're all over you."

Of course, that was probably unfair to both guys. Sasuke wouldn't tell even his BFF—Sasuke's term, employed with his customary lack of expression—about what had happened. Probably. And Yukimura and I got along pretty well now, except when his tactlessness got the better of my patience. He just doesn't have my appreciation for your charming naiveté, noted my inner Mitsuhide, before I slammed the (mental) door on his comments.

In any event, whether it was Sasuke's gift of ibuprofen that helped me, or the unintentional snuggling, I got over my cold in record time, and then spent a week hoping to see my fellow time-traveler so that I could apologize for my behaviour. Inevitably, certain people made a point of commenting on my occasional lapses of attention.

"How are you feeling today, Chieko?" asked Mitsuhide, his lips curving into what the naïve might call a smile. Apparently, he was spending some quality spymaster-conqueror time with Nobunaga this morning.

"Fine, thanks. Why do you ask?" I paused, politely handed Nobunaga his morning correspondence, and then added, "It was just a cold, and I recovered six days ago." I gave him my haughtiest don't-mess-with-me-this-morning look. A pointless effort, but he'd asked every day since I'd—completely accidentally, and while under the influence of opium—pressed my aching head into Sasuke's surprisingly well-defined chest. For the record, Sasuke had done a fine job of holding on to me once I was there, so—

A soft huff of amusement from the white-haired Machiavelli of the Oda forces suggested that I might have inadvertently lost focus at a bad time. I glanced up at Nobunaga to see whether he'd noticed anything, but he appeared to be skimming through the letters I'd brought. I resumed my attempt at a withering glare, and tried to will away the ridiculous—and entirely uncalled for—blush that was creeping across my cheeks.

"I am merely concerned about the health of our dear chatelaine, after her recent illness." Mitsuhide's long, white lashes concealed the predatory gleam that no doubt lurked in his snaky golden eyes, but nobody was fooled.

"Perhaps; however, you do keep asking." Nobunaga's incisive tones were curious, rather than annoyed, but they demanded a response. So much for my small hope that Azuchi's premier candy thief wasn't paying attention. "She doesn't look ill, Mitsuhide, she looks infatuated. Does it involve you in some way?"

What?!

"I am not infatuated with—with anyone!"

Mitsuhide ignored me. "Alas, I do not believe that I am the object of her desire," he lamented, with patently false regret. Nobunaga shot him an oddly appraising look, but his so-called left-hand man merely returned his usual slithery smile.

"Well, Chieko? If it's not an entanglement with Mitsuhide, then what is it?"

I kept my eyes on Nobunaga, unwilling to risk looking at The Bane of My Existence. A sudden idea skittered through my brain.

"I'm not entangled with anyone, Nobunaga. However, I must admit that my thoughts have turned to Mitsuhide quite often of late."

For once, if only for a fraction of a second, both men looked surprised.

"Really now?" Mitsuhide was suddenly beside me. "Do tell!" Now that he was looking down at me—and so close!—I felt just the tiniest bit apprehensive. He was a snake who preferred to play with his food before finishing it off. Sometimes I curse my powers of imagination.

I took a calming breath, and resisted the compulsion to look up into Mitsuhide's eyes. I addressed my reply to Nobunaga.

"You see, Mitsuhide has been like an uncle to me"—I thought I saw a look of appreciation cross Nobunaga's face—"and recently I've found that he comes to mind when I am faced with a difficult decision."

"I see." Nobunaga managed to imply enjoyment without actually changing expression. Then his attention returned to his desk. "Mitsuhide, we have work to do."

"Of course, my lord." Mitsuhide's eyes were gleaming with mischief, and I suddenly felt a qualm or ten about my decision to poke back a little. A slender finger caressed my cheek in a way that was not at all avuncular; I was unable to fully suppress a shiver—of apprehension, mostly. Only mostly? Good grief! "Good morning then, my dear Chieko. Rest assured that I will keep an even closer eye on you, now that I know how much you look up to me."

I managed a rather sickly smile as I left. Baka! Idiot! What the hell were you thinking? Mitsuhide Rule Number One: Do not, under any circumstances, try to play his game—any of his games. You will lose, and not even the occasional, fleeting victory is worth it.

When I got back to my room, I decided to go down into the market instead of returning to work with the seamstresses as originally intended. Maybe I could find Yukimura, and warn him that Mitsuhide seemed to be uncomfortably aware of Sasuke's activities in and around the castle. When Inner Mitsuhide snickered at the word 'activities', I may have snarled aloud.

Unfortunately, Yukimura wasn't in his usual spot. My heart sank, although I tried to keep the disappointment off my face as I pretended to browse the wares in nearby shops and stalls. After half an hour of searching—and a rather convoluted walk around the market area—I was forced to admit how much I'd been hoping to see Sasuke again, and how worried I was that I might not see him again for a long time.

"Hsst, ojō-san! A moment of your time!" The words were pretty standard for both beggars and merchants, but the hushed tones made no sense. Plus, who used words like 'psst' and 'hsst' outside of old novels?

I was about to take a quick step back—strangers trying to kidnap me had been an issue in the past—when I realized that the stooped, oddly-dressed figure was the man I most wanted to see. He was wearing the traveler's traditional flat straw hat, and strange clothing, but it was Sasuke. My heart started to beat a little faster, and my attempt to play it cool failed miserably as I rushed headlong into the narrow, shadowed lane.

"Sasuke! I've"—one hand gripped my shoulder, and another pressed against my mouth, preventing further speech.

"Sorry Chieko, we need to get out of here. Okay?" Sasuke sounded apologetic, but didn't remove his hand until I nodded. His fingers seemed to linger on my face for a moment longer than necessary. A weird part of my brain replayed the sensation of Mitsuhide's mocking caress earlier, cataloguing similarities and differences. Then the hand on my shoulder slid down to close firmly over mine, and a giddy, swooping feeling in my stomach made me a little light-headed. I winced internally as I felt the goofy smile hit my face. You are an independent, adult woman, not a fourteen-year-old with a crush! Despite my best efforts, Mitsuhide's smirk flashed across my mind, followed by Nobunaga's irritatingly knowing expression.

Sasuke was already moving by the time I got my head together, and I had to hurry to keep up with him. Despite his obvious anxiety to leave town quickly, his grip never tightened too far, nor did his pace increase beyond what I could handle in my kimono and sandals. For some reason, I could feel myself smiling again. Pull it together, Chieko! He's just a considerate guy, not some kind of hero. I mean, you didn't see him for a week, and now he's dragging you off somewhere without an explanation! And you're happy about it! (Mental eye-roll.)

Out of nowhere, my usually quiescent—more like comatose—romantic self downed a few shots of espresso, sat up, and took umbrage. And how many considerate guys have you actually met in the last couple of years? Right? So shut up! I had a point, I conceded, blithely going where I was tugged.

Actually, Mitsunari was often considerate, if not always helpful. And Hideyoshi could be very considerate, once you got past his—let's be honest—obsession with Nobunaga, and if you didn't mind Extreme Fussing™. Masamune was a good guy—and a great cook—despite living life at twice normal speed. In fact, they all had their own ways of being kind, even Mitsuhide, although his version was subtle, and usually involved him entertaining himself at your expense while helping you. Fine, noted my romantic self, now sipping gently at a mild green tea with lemon, but you're not holding hands with any of them.

We traversed several of Azuchi's less pleasant lanes and back-streets, before emerging onto a footpath leading across a meadow toward a not-too-distant wood. It was a beautiful day, and bright flowers were scattered throughout the waving grasses. Sasuke came to an abrupt halt at the edge of the meadow, and I careened into his back. He automatically helped me to regain my footing, but his eyes remained fixed on some point ahead of us—at least, the glint of sunlight off his half-concealed glasses suggested that he was staring at something.

"Um—Sasuke?"

"I'm fine. Just don't move."

I still couldn't understand what was wrong, but I did my best to obey, a little relieved to get a break from trying to hurry in geta. I continued to peer around Sasuke's side—though without moving too much. The grip on my hand tightened a little, and my companion looked down at me and then away.

"We'll have to go around. I'm sorry about this—it will be slightly harder for you underfoot."

"Sasuke, what are we going around?"

His expression didn't change, but his cheeks and neck reddened a little. Was he embarrassed? His expression was as difficult to read as ever, especially since his upper face was in shadow under his straw hat.

"…Could we discuss that later? Right now we have to get under cover. Though it was clever of you to lose them back in the market."

"Lose who?" I demanded, starting forward a little reluctantly this time.

"Lord Mitsuhide's agents. I thought that was why you travelled so randomly around the market area."

I was stuck on the first part.

"Agents? Mitsuhide's agents?"

"My hypothesis was erroneous, it seems."

We were moving again, but a little more slowly than before. The grasses in this area had been regularly scythed, and there were no flowers. There wasn't so much a path as a wide, rather barren field that appeared to go on all the way to the trees in the middle distance.

"I guess so—that you were mistaken. I have no idea what's going on." I was momentarily distracted by a different question. Or maybe I just had too many things to think about at once and fixed on something irrelevant. "I wonder why this area is all grass? I hadn't thought about it before, but it's like this all the way around the town, pretty much. Not short and hard-packed like this, but you know what I mean." You're babbling, dear. Yeah, I'd noticed, thanks.

Sasuke's grip loosened a little, as though he appreciated the break from more difficult subjects (whatever they were). Naturally, he knew the answer to my not-quite-question.

"Most castle towns are like this—in Europe as well as Japan, from what I've read. You don't want an army to be able to creep up on your castle or castle town. So you cut down the forest around the town. The area we're crossing now is where the Oda forces drill. That's why it's so hard underfoot, and the grass has bare patches."

"They've been at war for a long time, haven't they? All of them, I mean." After two months, I'd finally gotten my head around it, but sometimes the whole Warring States thing really hit me.

"Yes. Over a hundred years already—so not just the existing warlords, but their fathers and grandfathers and so on. It was a terrible time, but…" Sasuke slowed, and I knew without looking up that his expression had become both more animated and a little distant.

"But there were some brilliant and wonderful people?" I asked softly, not wanting to break this brief sense of being outside all of the bloodshed and disaster. I could pretend to be out on a summer walk with a friend, just chatting—for no apparent reason—about historical Japan. Do you always hold hands with your friends? No—now go away, you're interrupting my fantasy. …Which involves holding hands with a Sengoku fanboy named after a famous, but probably fictional ninja?

"Yes, exactly," said the fanboy in question. For a moment, I couldn't recall which question he was answering, and just stared at him blankly. "…Chieko?"

We were almost at the edge of the wooded area, but Sasuke stopped and peered at me as though trying to figure out why I'd stopped working. I found myself holding my breath, keenly aware of just how close he was now that we were facing each other. He still had my hand, and my imagination was starting to get the better of me.

"I was just thinking things over," I said hastily, trying to ignore the fact that he looked adorable, even in the ridiculous straw hat. Wait—seriously? Adorable?

"I see. It's true that there's a great deal to consider. For my part, although I can't condone the way in which violence is used as the first—and often only—approach to dispute resolution, I have come to greatly respect the warlords with whom I've served, even beyond my pre-existing, quite considerable admiration. I suspect that they are all suffering from various mental health issues, but despite this, they seem more alive, more vibrant, than most of the people I know back home."

I found myself nodding at his words, and saw his lips curve into his rare, rather shy smile. My heartbeat sped up further. "I'm glad we can talk about things like this, Chieko," he told me earnestly. "I mean, I realize that you are the only other time traveller here—that I know of—but, just for the record, I consider myself fortunate that you were the person who was inadvertently trapped here with me."

"Oh…" I managed feebly. Was that some kind of confession, or was Sasuke just that oblivious?

There was a short, possibly awkward silence. Then Sasuke's eyes went very wide behind his glasses, and he quickly took a half-step backward, letting go of my hand. This time the blush was unmistakeable.

"I'm sorry—I didn't mean—that is, we should keep going. This is all because of the—of them—being in the way when you were sick. Chaos rides on their fluttering wings. I should have known that something like this would happen."

Sasuke's last two or three sentences were muttered under his breath and largely incomprehensible to me. I had the impression that I wouldn't have understood even if I'd heard him properly.

We slipped under the shade of the trees just a few minutes later, and Sasuke took off the hat and peasant's kimono he'd used as a disguise—principally for changing his outline, he explained, although the hat was also useful for concealing his glasses (less reflected light off the lenses). Before I could ask any questions, he told me that we were "almost there," and moved silently away. His cheeks were no longer red, but he still wouldn't meet my eyes.

Despite Sasuke's assurances, it took another twenty minutes to reach our destination. Yukimura was waiting at the door of a small wooden hut, looking just about as twitchy and irritable as I was starting to feel. My sandals were pretty, but not appropriate attire for hurrying over rough ground, or through the woods. And my sore feet were the least of my worries.

"Sasuke! Where the hells have you been, moron?! You were supposed to be back here an hour ago—at least!"

"I'm sorry I'm late," Sasuke replied calmly, pausing to exchange a complicated fist bump that looked distinctly out-of-place in Sengoku Japan. "Things came up."

"What's that supposed to mean? You said you needed to tell Chieko about some stuff and then we could go. Have you even told her anything yet?"

"Hi Yukimura, nice to see you again," I said politely.

"Right—hi. I'm afraid we've got go now. Akechi's really turned up the heat in the last few days, since Sasuke's last mission went wrong somehow."

They were returning to Kasugayama? For good? I brushed away a sudden—and totally excessive—sense of disappointment. And something went wrong with Sasuke's last mission? Anything involving Mitsuhide was potentially dangerous.

"Sorry, I really don't know what's going on. Sasuke kind of grabbed me from the market and now we're here." I gave Yukimura my best innocent bystander look. He frowned, but it wasn't the scowl that I used to get. His eyes flicked over to Sasuke, and I sensed something like concern. I was impressed with the lack of eye-roll.

"Well? Do you need a bit more time? As long as you didn't accidentally lead anybody here—"

"I didn't." Sasuke's reply was unusually terse.

"Okay, fine. Just remember that everyone makes mistakes, even you, so—"

"I have never assumed that I am infallible, Yukimura. However—"

"Then stop beating yourself up for making one mistake, okay? It's annoying. Besides, we had to leave now anyway, as it turns out."

"…I understand."

This time, Yukimura did roll his eyes, but I couldn't blame him. What was going on with Sasuke?

"Alright, I'm heading out. You, uh, explain things to Chieko, then catch up to me." He gave me a quick nod, and a wry smile. "See you 'round, Chieko. Don't run off any cliffs after we've gone, okay?"

"Sure thing, Yukimura." My return smile wasn't feigned—it was an old jibe, and the guy had saved my life. "Look after yourself, okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Although—" Yukimura hesitated, then shook his head. "It's just weird, you know? The people I need to watch out for most are your buddies on the Oda forces. And vice versa." The last was said with chilling sincerity.

"As I explained before," interposed Sasuke, "Chieko values personal friendships above the feudal ties of lord and vassal. She wants everyone to be safe."

Yukimura just shook his head again—at me, at Sasuke, at life in general. "That's not how it works. But—hope you can stay out of the worst of it, Chieko. See you soon, Sasuke. No offence to Chieko, but we've got some feudal ties to honour. And Lord Kenshin won't go easy on you if you're late."

"I am aware of the value that Lord Kenshin places on loyal service. I will rendezvous with you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?! You're using weird words again, but tomorrow? We're due back—"

"ASAP. I know. But I have a few more loose ends to tie up."

There was a brief stare-off, then Yukimura shrugged. "It's your neck. Literally."

On that valedictory—and ominous—note, Yukimura turned and strode off. He navigated the undergrowth without difficulty, the sword on his hip and spear on his back as comfortable and familiar as his tunic and trousers. All at once I felt like I was seeing Sanada Yukimura the warlord, rather than Yukimura, Sasuke's merchant friend.

[END]

A/Note:

Stay tuned for chapter 3, where things get decidedly more risqué! Okay, but Sasuke is just an overachieving cinnamon-roll and I ♥ him.

Tags: @cherryb0mb79 @shell-senji @nalufever @hidetheremote @eliz1369 @iamaikotachibana @flower-dragon @canadiangaap @yum-chan @llama-in-socks (thank you for wanting more!)

Thank you to @acrispyapple for your kindness. ♥ (also, Byron - nuff said)

#ikesen #ikesen fanfiction #sarutobi sasuke #ficsforvera #impracticaldemon #imp writes #cybird otome

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goretro44-blog · 6 years ago

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End:

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jaerie · 7 years ago

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I finally decided to make a masterpost of all my posted fics even for just my own organization. So here we go! updated September 14th, 2019

Sisterwives (E, 33k, abo)

This was it, the moment Louis had been waiting for his entire life. Giddy excitement bubbled up as he held hands and stared up at his soon-to-be alpha and husband and grinned. The ceremony was small and simple, but Louis didn’t mind. Fresh flowers pinned into his hair and a brand new outfit was all he needed to feel special in front of their few witnesses. It was just some members of his family and a few of the church elders in attendance as was customary for any marriage beyond the first wife within the faith.

First wives were the ones to have elaborate weddings with the whole community involved. An alpha’s first wedding was a celebration of an their coming of age, his first steps into fulfilling God’s prophecy. There were many glories for an omega that came with being a first wife but also many responsibilities. Louis had never aspired to be a first wife or even a second. He wasn’t experienced enough to be the leader of an alpha’s many wives and children and he didn’t think he’d be up to the task.

Louis was just fine in the position he was stepping into as the seventh.

Or Louis thinks he's getting everything he's ever dreamed of. Harry helps him find what makes him truly happy.

Captain Jack (E, 32k, abo)

Louis has been searching for something and Harry is there to give it to him. Drugs, sex, disappointment, and the tangled web they’ve woven that keeps them trapped in the same cycle.

The Wilds (E, 13k, abo)

The creatures that Louis observed every day weren't exactly human, but yet they were. Researchers had plucked some of them from their secluded island and transplanted them into an enclosure against their will like a bunch of zoo animals. Louis didn't think they were. But he was only paid to do the yardwork, he didn't have any say about the wilds that lived there. That was until an unfortunate accident changed his life forever and made one wild in particular his top priority.

Restless Lane (E, 15k, abo)

Louis had grown used to his boring life back in Mississippi as a stand-in father figure to his siblings. He never expected his childhood friend to show up on his lawn with the heat of summer or that he would remind Louis how much of himself he'd tucked away and neglected. He also never expected to find himself caught up in a tangled web of feelings or secrets that just might break him. Maybe he had never known Harry at all.

Going Live (E, 15k)

Harry has only done this cam thing a handful of times when another camboy pops in to view his stream and unintentionally stirs things up a bit.

Or Louis and Harry are both camboys for some extra cash and meet each other in an unconventional way

Alpha Seeking Alpha (E, 4k, abo)

Maybe it's taboo, but Louis can't stop thinking about a strong alpha holding him down and filling him with a knot. Louis may be alpha himself yet there's a corner of the internet where he can get what he wants. He finally has the courage to do it.

Knot Safe For Work (E, 6k, abo)

The world is magical, Louis is a wizard, Harry is a Were, there are spells for lube and supernatural kinks are definitely a thing.

Everything I need I get from you (M, 10k, abo)

In a world where music and sound are just as vital to health as food, Harry is stuck in a town that thinks professional music is a scam and a relationship he never wanted. One chance event changes his life.

Ready, Baby? (E, 1k)

Harry gets an earring. Louis is the one to do it.

Or a pain kink drabble.

Challenging Nature: A Look Into Male Lactation (E, 11k)

Even taking into account all the bizarre things Harry has subjected himself to in the past for the sake of an article, Harry has received his strangest assignment yet. It comes up as a random misunderstanding in a meeting and builds into a conversation — can men breastfeed? Internet searches reveal documented cases of male lactation popping up at different times throughout history, but are any of them true? Can a man will himself into lactating? Harry has two months to make it happen.

Tiny Exaggeration (E, 4k, abo)

Louis is frustrated that they've been dating for months and still haven't taken their relationship to the next level. Sometimes the foolishness of the past lingers in the present. Louis wants that to change.

Enough Tin Foil for the Apocalypse (G, 1k)

Louis comes home to a tin foil covered house and his boyfriend's secrets

100ft Away (E, 2.5k)

Harry opens Grindr for a hookup and ends up with more than he bargained for. It all works out in the end.

The Time Is Now (M, 1k)

Louis is mid-one night stand when he finds out he's going to be an uncle in a matter of minutes.

A Long Way From The Top (E, 11k)

Harry needed to find a purpose in life. Mount Everest wasn't the place he'd expected to find it, but he'd take what he could get. He also hadn't expected to come home with extra baggage.

Freaks From The Internet (E, 3k)

Harry sells his breast milk to freaks on the internet. Louis turns out to be one of those freaks. He also happens to be Harry's ex.

Whoops (E, 1k)

Louis was just trying to get revenge on Niall for the prank he pulled a few months ago. He didn't mean to find himself trapped in the closet while Niall's roommate, Harry, decides it's a self-love kind of night.

Merry Birthday (10k, abo)

Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson have unfortunate soulmarks branded onto their skin. The first words their soulmate will ever speak to them are two of the most common greetings, so common that they don't even notice when it finally happens for real.

A Christmas soulmate AU.

You Gotta Swim, Swim For Your Life

Swim When It Hurts - Part One (M, 12k, abo)

Harry never thought he would find himself battling cancer. Louis never thought he would find himself so attached to one of his patients.

Swim When It Hurts - Part Two (E, 6k, abo)

Swim When It Hurts - Part Three (E, 7k, abo)

Harry never thought he would find himself battling cancer. Louis never thought he would find himself so attached to one of his patients. Neither one of them thought they would find love in such an unlikely place. Maybe things weren't ideal, but finding strength in a new kind of normal together may be just what they need.

The Post-War BP (E, 18k, abo)

The eight year war has left the country's birthrate severely stunted with a lack of virile alphas left to bring it back up. To ensure the survival of the country, the government opens The Breeding Program where young omegas can apply to carry an alpha's child in exchange for benefits. Louis' family is struggling and the BP is one of the only ways to secure a roof over their heads. Harry was drafted at the age of eighteen and spent six years of his life defending a country he doesn't recognize when he returns home. The government made the bed but it's Harry that has to lie in it.

I’m Sure It Happens To All Alphas (E, 4k, abo)

“It’s okay. I’m sure it happens to all alphas at some point,” the omega beside him said which only embarrassed him even more.

The thing was that this was not how Louis expected their first time together to play out. Especially after he’d been fantasizing about it for so long.

But let’s jump back to the beginning.

or Louis has trouble popping a knot

To Change How You See And What You Believe (E, 12k)

Harry and Louis are best friends who just happen to fall into bed with each other sometimes, it's not a big deal. After a drunken night of discussing their kinks, they wake up naked together. They don't remember what happened, but they've done it before and they'll probably do it again, but five months later, a surprise changes everything.

or an I didn't know I was pregnant au

Was It All Fake? (E, 4k, abo)

Unmated omegas are second class citizens. Expected to provide for themselves yet paid so little that they often are overworked or forced to sell their bodies just to keep from starving. Louis' luck turns around when he meets Harry, the rich heir to a fortune. After their bonding ceremony, things aren't exactly what Louis expected.

Take What’s Mine (E, 15k, abo)

Years after he is kidnapped, his life altered forever, Louis goes through the motions in a way that barely feels like living. Harry is a wild card, a forbidden fruit that Louis swore off of before he even had a chance to experience it. Maybe, in the end, Harry holds the key to being reborn. Louis just has to be open to the idea first.

Cuddle Up A Little Closer (4k)

Harry's therapist suggests that he should get a pet. Liam might have found the perfect one for him.

Stay Close, Hold Steady (E, 27k, abo)

Found on the banks of the Mississippi as an toddler, Harry goes on a quest to find his biological family. Louis tries to be supportive, but maybe he just doesn't want to be left behind.

Everything Comes Back To You (10k, abo)

Louis was only seven when he found himself in a hospital bed alone and scared, confused about what was happening. When another little boy climbed into his bed to comfort him, Louis never thought that they would be meeting again later in life. He also never imagined that their roles would be reversed the second time around.

Just Jump (E, 10k, abo)

Finally, after years of suffering alone, the insurance plan at Harry's new job covered omega heat services. As a grown omega adult, it finally felt like the right time to try it out. And, since taking an entire week of heat leave would really put him behind at work, using a service to shorten it seemed like a responsible decision. At least that’s how he rationalized it. He was nervous about his decision but it was too late. The doorbell rang.

“Hi!” The alpha said again and Harry took the hand he offered and shook it firmly. “I’m Louis from Omega Services. It’s nice to meet you.”

Where Do We Go Now (E, 10k, abo)

Louis goes off to college ready to start a fresh life away from the oppressive alphas of his pack. The odds aren't in his favour when his new dorm mate turns out to be an alpha. Louis hates alphas.

OmegaVision (E, 24k, abo)

Tomlin Networks Presents: OmegaVision starring Louis Tomlinson! The world's first 24/7 reality channel available in over 150 countries worldwide following the life of the first male omega born in over a century. Follow Louis through his daily routine, the ups and downs of growing up or just leave him on for comfort. There are many reasons to tune in but, no matter what yours may be, there's always a part of Louis that is just like you!

Or a Truman Show au that nobody asked for where Louis is Truman and Harry just wants to be his mate

As We Were, As We Are (E, 51.5k)

Alex is a British soldier who has been injured in battle, Louis is a RAF pilot with amnesia. Somehow they put each other back together even if they get separated along the way.

Woke Up Feeling Knotty (E, 8k, abo)

Beta Louis has a kink for knotting and the secret aesthetic porn blog he runs about it is more than proof. When he accidentally finds out his alpha best friend Harry is one of his biggest fans, he knows he has to come clean after everything that has already happened between them. Harry just might be willing to help him out anyway.

Saving’s What I Need (M, 17k)

We’ve all had those moments. A flash of something on the side of the road, a swerve, an instinctual slam on the break pedal. This is the story of the one time Louis’ reflexes were just not quite quick enough and the beautiful white dog that was on the other side of the impact. He just doesn’t know that beautiful dog is Harry.

Save Some Luck For Me (E, 10.5k, abo)

Louis arrives at the 2018 Winter Olympics to make history as the first omega to win a gold medal at the games. Harry, his oiled up crush from the Summer Olympics, just happens to show up to sabotage him, but maybe helps him win in the end.

Closest It’ll Get (E, 13k, 50 Reasons Fic Challenge)

Reason #41: Because He Looks LIke Your Super Hot Cousin and This is the Closest It'll Ever Get to Being Okay

Faking former relationships, mistaken identities and the moral struggle over his first real crush lead to an interesting destination wedding for Harry.

Cute for a Girl? (E, 3.5k, Cocktoberfest)

Harry recently had a sexual awakening with another student on campus. She attends a poetry reading and finds herself reliving the experience through Lou's words.

Driving Me Crazy, But I’m Into It Series

Pink Skin (E, 4k) “Yes well, do you have an appointment-available-for-anal-bleaching,” he rushed the last part out, the words blending together in a nervous string. Louis paused for a moment before bursting into laughter that made tears collect at the corner of his eyes.“Is this a joke?” he asked through his laughter, “Did Niall put you up to this?” He was nearly doubled over on the couch, that certainly was original.“Um…” his laughter cut off abruptly when the voice on the other end seemed serious. “Isn’t this Adeeva spa…?”“Oh god, no, I’m sorry for laughing. I think you have the wrong number mate.”

Or Harry is a camboy trying out something new and Louis ends up on the other end of the line

I’m Kinda Into It (E, 4.4k) Harry smirked and moved off the bed, never breaking eye contact, making sure the other knew exactly what he was about to do. His finger tapped the spacebar of his computer to bring it to life then reached up to switch his camera on with a small click.“Are you into it?” Harry asked, the corner of his mouth stuck up in a grin, dimple deep and genuine though very playful. Louis seemed to be in a small stupor and stared back with darkening eyes before swallowing hard.“I’m definitely into it,” Louis nodded.

Or things take an unexpected turn when Harry meets up with wrong number admirer for the first time

I’m Gonna Pay for This (M, 3k) Naked sunbathing has not turned out so well for Harry.

1st of the Month (E, 2.5k) Harry and Louis enjoy some morning sex before some highly anticipated mail.

Let’s Try That Again (E, 2.7k) The delivery finally arrives and Harry can't help but have a little fun with it. Louis is pretty cranky about Harry's antics until he isn't.

All Over Me (E, 2.4k) Louis is falling for Harry more each day, even all the quirks that make him special.

Christmas is Canceled (G, 2.7k) It is the first time Louis will be cohosting Harry's annual Christmas party with him and everything needs to be perfect. Everything doesn't go perfectly.

Cold As Ice (E, 2.3k) It is the first hot day of summer and Harry is dying. So of course the most logical solution is to head for the dildo in the freezer.

Bored (E, 2k) Harry is bored and decides to put on an unscheduled cam show. Louis never misses a show.

Hoping to Find the Respect I Deserve (G, 3k)

Harry has starry eyes for the professional world after uni and takes an unpaid internship in a foreign country thinking he'll be on top in no time. It doesn't quite work out that way.

Out of the Wild (E, 21.5k, abo)

Louis has spent most of his life as a wolf in the wild, Harry has spent most of his life as a human in the city. Their worlds collide during the audition process for the hottest new singing competition. What happens next should have expected.

Out With The Old, In With The New (E, 7k, abo)

Harry becomes the pack's new alpha and Louis can't wait to be bred

But She Doesn’t Know Who I Am (9k, Part 1 of 2)

“Stop following me!” she growled out firmly, squaring her shoulders and pulling herself up to her full height plus the added inches of her heels that made it feel like she was towering above him.

And… that wasn’t the voice of a woman.

His jaw dropped in shock but he couldn’t tell if his face physically matched that expression or if it was a mental jaw drop. He hoped the latter but knew at least his eyes had grown wide. It wasn’t what he had been expecting.

Prompt #807: The discomfort of walking on a deserted street at night behind a woman who probably thinks you're stalking her.

Maybe I’ll Try Falling Up (E, 6k, Part 2 of 2)

“It’s just… I thought…” he stumbled nervously, “I figured it would be me, you know… that I’d be the one doing you.”

“You thought I’m a bottom because I dress like a girl,” she deadpanned, schooling her expression into a mask of indifference.

Miscommunications can happen with anyone but sometimes it's just a sensitive subject.

Fur Up In Flames (G, 5k)

There's not really much you can do during a job interview when the only thing you can focus on is whether or not you remembered to turn off the stove...

My Sins I’ll Claim, I’m Not Immune to Shame (M, 5.6k)

It's been two years since their break up and Harry still hasn't been able to completely move past the day that things ended between them. When he gets a chance at a big fat "I told you so", his reaction isn't exactly what he expects. He finds himself hard from some inappropriate thoughts and, well, sometimes even the best of us succumb to the darkest emotions.

Day 2: Slow and Steady (E, 5.7k, 30 Days of Smut)

Harry wants everything to be perfect, a scene from a romcom for just the two of them. It doesn't quite go according to plan, but he can't say he's disappointed.

And the Truth Shall Set You Free (Maybe...) (E, 18k, abo)

Betism: A religion based on the belief that the beta gender has been chosen by God to protect and defend the purity and dignity of the human race by resisting and condemning the lustful ways and flawed biology of the alpha and omega

Harry is a Betist and Louis is an alpha who runs with a bad crowd. This is what happens when two worlds collide.

Come Fly With Me (M, 9.6k)

Louis and Harry are university students that meet in an airport while trying visit home during a school break. Their first flight goes as planned but their connection leaves them time for some unexpected adventures.

They Won’t Let Me Out (I’m Locked Up) (E,15k, abo, WIP, to be finished early 2018)

Harry is the alpha heir to a prosperous pack who has just presented as he approaches the age of 18. Coveting their resources and desperately seeking to merge their packs together, rivals kidnap Harry and force him into a life of chastity that would prevent him from ever mating and inheriting the pack he was born to lead. As they lose hope they reluctantly begin the process searching for a mate for Harry's older omega sister, the only way to keep the pack in the Styles' bloodline. What happens when a hot headed little alpha-to-be stumbles upon Harry's little secret and ends up sharing one of his own?

Tell Me That You Want It Cause I Already Know (E, 3.8k, abo)

Who knew all it would take was some good ole porn for Louis to discover his friend, Harry, is a wolf and for it to awaken an urge that would bring them together in a way he hadn't anticipated.

Just Bend and We Can Learn To Love Again (M, 28.5k)

Louis is a single dad of twins just trying to get through each day one step at a time. Harry has his own struggles as a young dad. Maybe Louis' curiosity and nosiness has found just the friend that he needs in his life. Maybe they both just need each other.

Starbucks Lovers (M, 2.5k)

He pushes the Starbucks door open hard, the momentum slamming it into the trash station on the other side. All eyes are on him as he raises his voice, pulling the phone away from his ear. “ARE THERE ANY GAYS IN THIS STARBUCKS??” his chest moving heavily than normal with frustration.

He looks around, suddenly realizing the scene he has caused in his regular coffee shop, all eyes still on him. A few beats pass and most of the customers turn their attention back to what they had been doing before the interruption.

His shoulders begin to slump as out of the corner of his eye he sees a timid hand start to raise above his head. It might just be the fact that he's sitting by the window, bright sunlight shining through the tinted glass, but his hair seems to shine like a halo, a beacon drawing him in.

Not From The Cookie Cutter (M, 31k, WIP)

For the last 5 years Louis has been keeping himself alive. Deemed an untouchable by society when he was only 14, he had to watch the path he always thought his life would follow be erased before him. Existing in the shadows of the nice part of town, the picture perfect lives he watches every day are the closest thing he will ever have to a normal life.

Coddled by his mother, Harry is a dreamer. As hard as he tries to bring himself back to the ground on his father's command, he just doesn't think he has the will power.

Or Louis is a homeless omega and Harry is an abnormally observant alpha.

Are You Open Minded? (M, 1.5k)

College AU where Louis is dared to make a phone call and Harry takes the bait.

I Wish You Were Here With Me (G, 2.5k)

After Louis' sudden death, the boys unanimously decide they can't and don't want to continue One Direction without him. With the ghost of Louis following his every move, Harry tries to push forward though he knows he will never been the same.

Shrink Wrapped Jeans (M, 2k)

Louis gets a new pair of jeggings and it drives Harry wild.

Impossible Secret (G, 1.8k)

Harry and Louis find themselves apart during the first break the band has truly had. Making the best of it, they keep their temporarily long distance relationship as strong as they can while Harry holds back a secret he can barely hold back.

So that’s all folks! I’ll add as I write more things :)

#jaerie #about me #my fics

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pigmentation21 · 3 years ago

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Babies with gerd

Spitting is decent in infants as unexperienced parents surely understand. In the event that your child is throwing up, it's generally nothing to stress over.

However, periodically, incessant and steady throwing up joined by different manifestations or helpless weight gain can be a sign that your child has heartburn, or GERD. Here's the manner by which you can differentiate between typical throwing up in children and GERD.

What is GERD in children?

Gastroesophageal reflux infection, or GERD, is like indigestion (heartburn) in grown-ups. Typically while gulping, the throat moves food or fluid down to the stomach by a progression of presses. In the stomach, the food is processed by corrosive. At the point when this blending happens, the band of muscles at the lower end of the throat turns out to be tight, fixing off the food from returning up.

However, in certain babies, the region between the throat and stomach is immature, which implies the muscles there loosen up when they ought to contract. This permits stomach corrosive to return up into the throat and now and then the rear of the throat, causing side effects of newborn child reflux, or GERD.

Remember that GERD isn't close to as normal as GER (gastrointestinal reflux) — an extravagant term for throwing up. A larger part of children have some type of GER in the principal year.

GERD indications in children

Indications of infant indigestion generally first appear between weeks 2 and 4. They will in general top around 4 months and start to die down around 7 months, when child starts to sit upstanding and take more strong food sources.

Normal GERD indications include:

Incessant throwing up or retching (now and again powerfully)

Bothering of the throat

A murmuring, blocked or wheezing sound during feedings

Inordinate slobbering

Unexpected or forlorn crying (for the most part because of torment)

More than the standard fastidiousness

Curving of the back during taking care of (once more, due to torment)

Inconsistent taking care of examples (child denies food, or eats continually)

Moderate weight acquire

Helpless rest

Breastfeeding and GERD

In case it's conceivable, intend to breastfeed (or siphon and jug feed your child bosom milk), since GERD is generally considerably less extreme in breastfed infants. That is on the grounds that bosom milk is more effectively and immediately processed than recipe. Yet, in the event that you can't breastfeed, don't pressure: Home cures also as meds, if important, can assist with relieving GERD side effects.

You can undoubtedly discover children with GERD issue because of a stationary way of life and progressively inclined to different illnesses. It is lamentable when you come to realize that your child has GERD. Anyway, how can you say whether your child may have GERD? All things considered, it is entirely expected for babies to throw up bosom milk while nursing. Many moms have a dread that throwing up is seldom a sign that milk is an issue. In any case, milk isn't an issue with infants. All things being equal, by and large, the issue is that the lower esophageal sphincter (LES), the little entryway that lies between the throat and stomach, isn't working great. On account of babies, the issue is that there is no improvement of LES adequately and therefore, food gets supported up.

In any case, by and large, the issue settle normally as the youngster develops more established and the LES develops and begins working in better condition. As referenced, on account of youngsters with asthma, cerebral paralysis, Down's disorder, cystic fibrosis, and different sicknesses, the issue regularly doesn't disappear.

Attempt to go with absolutely normal: –

As we as a whole realize that youngsters are exceptionally delicate, so attempt to get them far from allopathic meds which show different incidental effects. Normal Ayurvedic treatment is best for youngsters. As Ayurvedic fixings don't show any incidental effects, fixes the illness from the inside and fortifies the body. Just an accomplished Ayurvedic specialist who has played out an expert clinical assessment can decide whether your kid has GERD. Yet, there are markers that guardians can look out for. The most widely recognized side effects include: –

Persistent heaving or spitting of food and fluid

Incapable to take sound rest during the evening

Incessant extending and angling of the back and neck

Unusual fastidiousness or crying and waking as frequently as at least five times each night.

Sobbing or crying that endures throughout an hour each time

Ongoing respiratory side effects (colds and ear diseases) or asthma

Constant retching and spitting by infants with GERD: –

Sooner or later, all infants let out milk and food and this is totally ordinary. In the event that the child is putting on the fitting load as indicated by his size and age. Dozing at customary stretches, then, at that point throwing up is by and large nothing to stress over. Notwithstanding, this is the condition which the specialist calls an "troubled spitter". As, throwing up shows up alongside rest challenges, steady colds, and different side effects that can be characteristic of GERD, then, at that point the analysis can be viewed as the chance.

Note: If your kid used to encounter strong or shot retching (like a wellspring heaving across the room), or regardless of whether it contains blood, the parent ought to promptly contact an Ayurvedic specialist right away. On the off chance that conceivable, it is smarter to call and chat with your Ayurvedic specialist prior to hurrying off to the trauma center of your neighborhood medical clinic.

Unfit to take sound rest during the evening: –

It is entirely expected for the newborn children to awaken in the evening and begin playing. The explanation can be any of them. The child might be ravenous, getting teeth, wet or grouchy, or need some consolation.

However, even subsequent to finishing all the solace estimates which incorporate taking care of, changing diapers and giving consolation, on the off chance that they don't work by any stretch of the imagination. The child actually awakens often and is miserable. All things considered, there might be an issue. The explanation may be the colic torment that is awakening the baby.

At the point when a child is awakening six or seven times each night (or more) and furthermore has a background marked by throwing up or retching milk or food, the youngster might be experiencing GERD.

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duhragonball · 7 years ago

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[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (86/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

Previous chapters conveniently available here.

[23 May 234 Before Age. Planet Saiya.]

"That's it," Zatte said. "I'm almost positive that's where the killer originated from."

On the bridge of their star-yacht, Luffa looked at the star chart displayed on the main viewer and shrugged. On one end was the Saiya system, represented by a small white dot. Dozens of other star systems were marked with various symbols and notations, and many of them were connected by lines of various different colors. Most of these lines wandered out across the map, only to curl back toward Saiya, stopping short at a solar system relatively close to it.

"How did you work all this out?" Luffa asked.

"There's a ship on Saiya registered to one of the killer's victims, a Saiyan named Yarrow," Zatte said. "By the time I found out about it, the ship had already been abandoned, but the navigational logs were still in tact. From the planet where Yarrow's body was discovered, the ship went to four other systems, and each one reported at least one dead Saiyan."

Luffa waved her finger at the map, as though tracing the route. "That only gets you part of the way," she said.

"Right, but I played a hunch. I traced the same ship's itinerary before Yarrow died, and found other victims along the way. The pattern breaks down here, where a Saiyan named Okartish was discovered dead. Turns out he and Yarrow were partners."

"Are you saying this guy stowed away on Yarrow's ship for months without anyone noticing?"

"It seems that way," Zatte said. "Look, we're having a hard time finding him now that he's here on Saiya, so it's no surprise that he can cover his tracks. He must have some way to hide his presence, even while he's aboard a spaceship as small as Yarrow's."

"You think he can turn invisible like you?" Luffa asked.

"I doubt it," Zatte said. "I could mask my life energy and hide on this ship for a long time if I needed to. But I'd need food and other necessities. Plus, a ship's life support systems would detect the extra oxygen consumption from a stowaway. I might be able to hack the ship's computer to falsify the readings, but that would mean sneaking out of my hiding place to do it. Sooner or later I'd give myself away. And on a smaller ship like Yarrow's, it'd be that much harder for me to move around without being noticed."

"So how's he doing it?" Luffa asked. "We know he's a Dorlun because of the poison he's using, and each Dorlun has special abilities. What can this guy do?"

"It could be a lot of things," Zatte said. "Keda could shape-shift, which works a lot better for stowing away. She hid among the Tikosi for months, right? I don't think I could have managed that long. She probably spent a lot of that time making her body as small as possible."

"Then maybe this guy's a shape-shifter like Keda," Luffa said.

"Not necessarily," Zatte said. "He might have some sort of telepathic power. Your eyes might be able to see him, but he can prevent your mind from perceiving his presence. Or maybe he had some way to go into a dormant state. That way he could hide in the cargo hold without food or water."

"This is too complicated," Luffa groaned.

"For all we know, the killer might not have hidden aboard Yarrow's ship at all," Zatte added. "He may have paid Yarrow for passage, and made sure his name stayed off the ship's passenger records."

"But if he's been using his own victims for transportation," Luffa said, "then he's been leaving a trail all along."

"Well, nothing obvious," Zatte said. "It's taken me days to piece together all the victims with spaceships they might have used or owned. I know you're not a big fan of King Rehval's brand of diplomacy, but a lot of these murders took place in a lot of different jurisdictions. If Rehval hadn't established relations with so many of them, I might not have been able to get all the data I needed."

"It doesn't matter," Luffa harrumphed. "Once my technique is put into action, we'll find the killer no matter where he's hiding."

"Maybe," Zatte said, "but you needed Rehval to make that work too, right?"

Luffa rolled her eyes. "He has his uses," she admitted. Before Zatte could tease her about this, she turned her attention back to the map. "So you backtracked the killer to this system, but what good does that do us?"

"Maybe nothing," Zatte said, "but if the trail goes back any further, I might be able to find out something about him that we can use. I won't know until I go there and see for myself."

"You want to take the ship and leave Saiya?" Luffa asked.

"Sure," Zatte said. "It'll only take a day to get there."

"But Planet Saiya would be at the killer's mercy while we're gone!" Luffa objected.

"That's why we’re not going,” Zatte said. “You’re staying behind.”

"You want to go alone?!" Luffa asked.

"Luffa, it'll only be for a few days. A week at most. You've gone on training retreats longer than that."

"But the whole point of you investigating was so the killer would try to come after you," she said. "If the bait leaves the planet, then there's no trap."

"Let's face it," Zatte said. "If he was going to try to attack me he would have done it by now. Either he doesn't see me as a threat, or he knows it's a trap. At least if I leave the planet for a while, it might make him wonder what I'm up to. He might get nervous enough to make a mistake."

"What the hell am I supposed to do while you're gone?" Luffa asked.

"The same thing you've been doing, dummy," Zatte said. "Try to catch the killer with that technique of yours. And try to find out something about this 'Honor Guard'."

"I already did," Luffa said. "They're just an elite squad in the Saiyan military. They handle special missions, things like that."

"Then why would they recruit a civil servant like Finule?" Zatte asked. There must be hundreds of Saiyans who were stronger or more qualified, and she was willing to die before letting hem take her."

"You can always get stronger," Luffa said. "They probably have a harsh training regimen, and she got cold feet. She was just being cowardly, that's all. It happens, even to Saiyans."

Zatte wasn't satisfied with this at all. "Look, if you think that's all it is, then so be it. Finding the killer is what matters now, but don't whine about being bored if you manage to tackle him early. Take in a show. Spend some time with your grandmother."

"Oh that sounds like fun," Luffa groaned.

"You'll live," Zatte said. "If it gets too dull, you can always conquer the planet. Hey, what's the matter?"

"It's just... I don’t know. Be careful out there, Zattie. Okay?"

"I'm always careful," Zatte said. "But for you, I'll be even more careful. How's that?"

*******

[24 May 234 Before Age. Planet Saiya.]

Less than an hour after Zatte's departure from the planet, Luffa went to the capital citadel to find King Rehval. By now, the palace staff had grown accustomed to her frequent visits. They still stank of fear and loathing whenever she passed them in the corridors, but they no longer asked her to identify herself or make appointments. She waited in his bedroom for five minutes, and when he appeared at the doorway he walked up and seized her in a powerful embrace--one arm around her back, the other gripping her upper thigh.

"There you are," he said triumphantly. He hoisted her up until they were at eye-level to one another.

She planted her hands on either side of his head and pulled until they were close enough to give him a passionate kiss. As their lips finally parted, she bit his lower lip, drawing a tiny trickle of blood. He feigned outrage, and tossed her onto the bed.

Over time, Rehval had learned to indulge Luffa like this. At first, he had been very respectful about kissing her, almost to the point of being submissive. This was customary among Saiyans, as she was the stronger of the two, but she had always enjoyed the way her late husband Kandai would handle her, back when she was far weaker. It pleased her to see that Rehval could pull it off. It wasn't about physical power, she supposed. Rehval was far stronger than Kandai had ever been, and he was a monarch as well. He was used to projecting authority, in a way that Kandai could have only approximated with strength. So it was just a matter of getting him to stop being so damned polite to her. He was putting his tongue down her throat, not negotiating a trade agreement.

Even so, he still knew when to back off. Their make-out sessions would end the same way every time. Eventually, her guilt over betraying Zatte would surpass the thrill she got from him, and she would gently push him away. He never questioned her about this, and if he understood, he never mentioned it. He simply respected her boundaries like a true diplomat. It made her wonder what would happen if he didn't respect this. What if he wanted to press the issue? Would she kill him for his insolence? Would he try to persuade her to take things further than they already had Would she give in to temptation and betray her wife more than she already had?

"Shall we go?" Rehval asked pleasantly. Normally they would head to the mountains to train at this point.

"Yeah," Luffa said. "I think we're almost ready to try this thing out."

"You still haven't named your technique?" Rehval asked. He rose from the bed and fetched a new shirt from his wardrobe. Luffa had a nasty habit of shredding them during their more intimate moments.

"What's the point?" Luffa asked.

"The point is that you have something to call it," Rehval said. "When you and I find this killer, I want to tell my subjects how we did it. That'd be easier if I didn't have to keep calling it 'Luffa's New Technique, the One Where She Spreads Out Her Ki Energy Across the Whole Planet While We Sense For Any Unusual Activity."

"Fine, you name it then," Luffa said.

"You developed it," Rehval said. "The honor is yours."

Luffa rolled her eyes and shook her head. After a moment of consideration, she finally said: "Golden Duster."

Rehval paused putting on his shirt as he appeared to digest the name carefully. "We should workshop that," he said.

Luffa threw up her hands in annoyance.

*******

Hours later, at their training ground, Luffa and Rehval watched the stars come out in the night sky. The air was cold, but she barely noticed thanks to how closely he was holding her.

"That's the Pflaume system," he whispered into her ear as he pointed to a faint point of light that had just become visible as dusk gave way to night. "That's where my villa is. I'd like to show it to you sometime."

"You already showed it to me," Luffa replied.

"That was a hologram," Rehval said. "I want you to experience the real thing. The sounds, the smells..."

He might have added "touch", but instead he gently caressed the side of her neck with his lower lip, and she found this far more persuasive.

"But we can discuss that later. I've kept you here for too long," Rehval said. "You probably want to get back to your ship."

"No, it's all right," Luffa said. "Zatte took the ship into space. I'm staying with my grandmother until she gets back."

Earlier, she had resolved not to tell him any of this. He didn't need to know, after all. Yet somehow, something about the way he held her and the sound of his voice caused her to forget her mistrust.

"She left the planet?" Rehval asked. "Why?"

"Chasing down a lead on the killer," Luffa said. "Not that it'll matter. You and I should have him cornered by the time she gets back.

"Then why don't you stay at the palace until she returns?" Rehval asked.

She took a deep breath and released it as a long sigh.

"I take it that's a 'no'," Rehval said.

"Maybe," Luffa said. "Let's focus on the Saiyan-killer, and then we'll worry about sleeping arrangements."

"Fair enough." Rehval released her and rose to a standing position.

"Where are you going?" Luffa asked. "I told you, I can stick around a while longer."

"Yes, but unfortunately, I have some business to handle back at the citadel. I can either put in a long night or get up early to take care of it before we meet up. Either way, I need to get moving."

"Business?" Luffa asked.

"It's a state secret," Rehval said. "I'd need to arrange a security clearance for you. Maybe if you and your wife choose to stay on Saiya for a while, we could make that happen. You've proven to be a great help to the kingdom. Both of you."

"One thing at a time," Luffa said. "I'll see you at 0900 tomorrow."

"Of course,” Rehval said. As he floated into the air, he waved good bye and made that damned wink that she found so endearing and smarmy at the same time.

“Don’t be late!” Luffa called out to him.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Rehval replied with a smile. “I know how much you hate to be kept waiting.”

*******

"Where is he?!"

By 1000 hours, Citadel Time, Luffa was in General Ratijio's office, threatening to wreck his furniture. The general was the strongest Saiyan in the royal military, and unaccustomed to dealing with such a tantrum. Typically, he would have killed any Saiyan who dared to barge into his office and make such a racket, but Luffa was far from typical, and he knew it.

"I don't know!" he pleaded.

Without really meaning to, he glanced at the most valuable object in the room, the palladium medal awarded to him by King Rehval II for his fortieth year of service. The display case hung on a wall just beyond his reach. It was a simple tactical assessment. His territory (office) had been occupied by a superior force (a Super Saiyan), and since he couldn't give the invader what she wanted (the king's location), she would sack his domain to vent her frustrations. All he could do now was try to minimize the damage. He couldn't hide his medals now, but if he could keep her attention on his desk or one of the file cabinets...

Then Luffa went straight for the display case. He raised his hand, although he had no idea what good it would do, but before he could even move, she had torn it down from the wall and moved back to her position in front of the door. He didn't think any Saiyan could move so quickly. He thought that she had to use her golden-haired form to tap into that kind of ability.

"Do I have your attention now?" Luffa demanded. She broke the case apart in her hands and let the pieces fall to the floor. Then, she knelt down and picked up the palladium medal he had been so worried about.

For a moment, he wondered how she knew that one was so important to him. Then he realized that she wasn't just faster than any other Saiyan; she had actually caught the movements of his eyes, and noticed what he had been looking at. She was a monster, and the king had welcomed her into the heart of his kingdom. Worse, he had actually begun having some sort of an affair with her. And now, the king, in his infinite temerity, had stood her up.

"Luffa," Ratijio said, trying to maintain what little composure he had left. "He's the king. He doesn't tell me where he goes, but I can try to find out if, you'll just--!"

"I've been trying to find him for the last hour!" Luffa snarled. I can't sense his ki, he's not in the palace, and none of his staff have seen him since yesterday."

"What about that technique you've been developing with him?" he asked. "I thought you could find anyone."

"Oh, I'm coming to that, don't worry," Luffa said. "The point is, he agreed to meet me at the palace this morning, and he isn't there. Finding him isn't as important as knowing why he isn't where he said he'd be. We're supposed to be tracking down that Saiyan-killer today!"

Ratijio swallowed hard. "Are you saying that the king is--?"

"I showed you how Golden Duster works, General," Luffa said. "I saturate an area with my own power, and sense for any movements within that field. It's for finding people who might be concealing their own ki, but it won't work on a corpse!"

"He... he can't be dead!" Ratijio said. "The Honor Guard would never--!"

Faster than he could register the movement, Luffa grabbed him by the chest of his uniform, lifted him out of his chair, over the desk, and slammed him against a wall, upside down. The sheer speed of this action was made even more astonishing by the fact that she did it all with one hand.

"The Honor Guard. Let's talk about them, shall we?" Luffa said with a sneer. "They're under your command, right?"

She was still clutching the medal in her free hand. Ratijio found that he kept glancing at it, even as he knew that he had to focus his attention on Luffa. He couldn't afford to make her any angrier than she already was.

"No," he said. "They report directly to the King! They're his secret police--"

"Secret police?!" Luffa roared. "What does a Saiyan king need that for?!"

In spite of his predicament, Ratijio made a knowing smirk. "You really are a back country yokel, aren't you?" he said. "I thought it was just an act to fool people, but you really-- ARRGH!"

Luffa's fingers suddenly charged with ki, and he felt a surge of pain in his chest.

"Dumb it down for me, then," she said darkly.

"Fine, fine!" he gasped. "You might think a Saiyan king should rule by strength alone, but Rehval isn't interested in merely ruling the Saiyans! He wants to redefine our very culture! The Honor Guard doesn't just suppress dissent, they enforce Rehval's vision of how the people should behave!"

"Then why would they recruit a file clerk like Finule?" Luffa asked. "The way I hear it, she was no fan of the regime."

"Finule?" Ratijio asked. "So they finally took her, did they? I didn't know, but I'm not surprised. She talked too much. Sooner or later someone was going to shut her up."

"Then why not just kill her and be done with it?" Luffa asked.

"To use her for--!" But he couldn't finish the sentence. He knew the information was classified, and that he wasn't supposed to share it with an outside like Luffa, but now he found that he literally couldn't tell. It was as if the words had been trapped in his throat.

"Use her for what?!" Luffa demanded. She charged her fingers with ki once more, and he convulsed with pain.

"They probably took her to--!" he tried to say, but rephrasing his answer made no difference.

Ratijio had never tried to betray state secrets before. This wasn't a matter of honor or loyalty, but fear of Rehval's immense physical strength. But Rehval was missing, and Luffa was here, and far stronger than Rehval could ever hope to be, and this alone made a very compelling case for treason. Only he couldn't go through with it, and Luffa was rapidly losing what little patience she had left...

"You know, I could just rip the answers out of your mind," Luffa said.

"I'm trying to tell you, but something is--!" Ratijio began to say. This time he stopped himself from finishing his sentence. He knew Luffa wouldn't believe him, since he hardly believed it himself.

She flung him to the other side of the room, where he crashed to the floor. Ratijio had the physical might to at least soften his landing, but he didn't want to risk antagonizing Luffa any more than he already had. As soon as he was able, he glanced to her hand to find his medal was still in tact. Even as he did so, he wondered why that should still matter to him.

"Don't bother," Luffa said. She approached him, reaching for his face with her empty hand. "I've wasted enough time on you already. I should probably use both hands, so before we get started..."

She held up the medal and closed her fist, crushing it into a chunk of twisted metal. Then she flung out her arm, launching it like a mortar bomb through the window of his office. Ratijio was horrified to see this, although he still couldn't understand why.

And then suddenly, he felt something snap inside him. There was an intense pain in his head, like something was trying to smash its way out of his skull, and he clutched at his face as he curled up into a fetal position. He heard an undignified scream, and eventually realized that it was coming from his own mouth. It was so excruciating that he completely forgot the angry Super Saiyan standing over him.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" she asked, though her voice sounded distant to him, as though she were calling to him from across a great chasm.

And then the pain simply stopped. Ratijio opened his eyes and looked at the palms of his hands, unsure if it was safe to move or speak. He gasped with relief, and slowly rose to one knee, until Luffa grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him to his feet.

"It was the medal," he said quietly. "Damn his eyes, he did it to me just like all the rest!"

"What are you babbling about now?" Luffa asked.

He noticed she had raised one of her fists and he quickly held up his hands in supplication. "Wait, don't!" he pleaded. "I'll tell you everything!"

*******

For lack of anywhere better to go, Luffa took General Ratijio to her grandmother's house. King Rehval III had now been missing for over four hours. While Luffa concentrated her senses on finding any trace of his ki, Arracash served him all the steamed vegetables he could eat.

"You don't see brassicas like that anywhere else on Saiya, now do you?" Arracash bragged. "You'd probably think they were imported, but I grew them right here in my garden."

"They are impressive," Ratijio said between bites.

"The secret is the molybdenum powder I sprinkle into the soil," Arracash went on. "Any idiot knows to use fertilizer in this sort of climate, but they don't know to do their homework. Sure, they can grow some crops, but if they don't pay attention to the micronutrients, you won't have much to show for it on the dinner table."

"I see," Ratijio said absently.

"Now, the iron levels in the soil here aren't a problem, but you still have to keep an eye on the others. Boron, zinc. Manganese. A lot of people don't even know what that is."

"If you two are through talking about gardening," Luffa growled, "I'd like to go over what you told me, General."

He swallowed hard at the sound of that. "I've told you everything I know," he insisted.

"Yeah, and most of it was stuff I already learned from reading Rehval's mind," Luffa said. "His father, Rehval the Second, was an alchemist. He used witchcraft-- or whatever you want to call it-- to hold onto his throne and defeat his enemies. He even used it on loyal officers like you, like that medal he enchanted to keep you in line in case you ever tried to turn against him."

"He kept his powers a secret," Ratijio grumbled, "but rumors began to circulate. Some of us in the military began to suspect he had some sort of influence over people. I didn't know for certain until you crushed that medal. For the last five years, I've treated it like a prized possession and never knew why."

"Well, the only trouble I have with that story is that Rehval II is dead," Luffa said. "Rehval III found out about his secret alchemy lab and killed his father in disgust. Only it looks like he didn't bother to track down all the talismans and potions his dad left behind."

"Why should he bother?" Ratijio muttered. "The current king may not have approved of his father's methods, but he still benefits from the results. The spell I was under made me loyal to their whole dynasty. It's the same with the Honor Guard. I'm sure they're under some sort of enchantment to ensure their absolute obedience. That's why I say the king must still be alive. If he died, the Honor Guard would immediately install his successor."

"Who would that be?" Luffa asked.

"Don't be an idiot, girl," Arracash said. "Obviously one of the king's children would assume the throne."

"Obviously," Luffa replied, "except Rehval has no children."

"Of course he does," Ratijio said. "The king is many things, but he's no fool. To rule over Saiya without an heir would jeopardize everything his house has ever worked for."

"That's impossible!" Luffa insisted.

"Why?" Ratijio scoffed. "Did you really think you were the first woman he ever fancied?"

Normally, such a cutting and personal remark would have embarrassed her. Her involvement with Rehval had been confusing enough before the General accidentally walked in on them in the middle of an embrace. He had kept quiet about it, but now that he was finally speaking up, Luffa was too shocked to be self-conscious.

"You and the king?!" Arracash blurted out.

"I guess you really didn't know," Ratijio said with a snort. "His Majesty's quite the charmer, isn't he? Probably convinced you that you were the only one he had ever loved. Well, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but it's just a line. Once he's satisfied, he'll move on to someone else and tell her the same story."

Luffa shook her head. "I read his mind," she said. "I didn't find anything about children or other women or..."

"You must have skipped a few pages then," Ratijio replied.

Luffa's eyes went wide, and she started taking quick, shallow breaths as she struggled to make sense of this. Somehow, Rehval had thwarted her telepathic probe, and she had never even dreamed that this was possible. In the past, others had resisted her mental powers, or fought back with psychic abilities of their own, but this was something altogether different.

"Luffa, he's telling the truth," Arracash said. Her grandmother had approached her and reached out with a sympathetic hand. "The king keeps his children out of the public, but he's held ceremonies to announce their births. I attended one once--long story--but the food was lousy..."

But Luffa wasn't listening to her. Arracash and Ratijio probably thought she was upset over being deceived by a romantic partner, but that wasn't it at all. Like a witless amateur, Luffa had overestimated her own power. She had assumed that a thorough telepathic interrogation would prove once and for all whether the king was friend or foe. Everything she and Zatte had done since then was based on this faulty premise. There could only be one explanation: Rehval had been manipulating them from the start.

Her thoughts turned to Zatte, who was currently headed for a whole other star system. Was that part of Rehval's plan? Was he luring Zatte into a trap, or was it just a way to remove Zatte from Planet Saiya while he put his true plan into effect?

"Luffa, what are you doing?" Arracash asked.

The old Saiyan had sensed Luffa's ki rising as she ruminated over her failure. Without really thinking about it, Luffa raised her hand and slammed her fist into her own sternum. Her jaw was clenched so tightly that her teeth hurt. As usual whenever Luffa made a mistake, she could almost hear her dead mother's voice scolding her in her mind. Complacent! The enemy was right in front of her. Her wife, her closest ally, had been right beside her. And what had she done?! She took both for granted, and now they were both gone. She could have strangled Rehval last night and been done with this, but instead she held him in her arms, tenderly, and let him whisper sweet nothings into her ear while they looked at the stars.

"Luffa! Not in the house! You hear me?! Not in the house!"

In her rage, Luffa's ki had manifested like a miniature whirlwind. Arracash was pleading for her to stop. Just beneath Luffa's skin, as always, was that thing. Aside from a private demonstration for Rehval, she had kept it contained during her visit to Planet Saiya. Luffa wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe it was because she wanted to at least pretend to fit in with her own species. While she had grown accustomed to her other form and accepted it as a part of herself, she still didn't relish the idea of showing it off to her own kind, to revealing herself as this yellow-haired, green-eyed monstrosity.

But now... Now that Rehval's lies were exposed, now that General Ratijio was rushing out of the house in fear for his life, now that Luffa felt like she couldn't make things any worse than they already were... Now, she could see no reason to hold back.

With a sharp cry, she released her power... released herself, and came to a decision.

If Rehval wouldn't deal with her directly, then she would just take the matter up with his precious planet.

NEXT: Behind the Throne

#dragon ball #fanfiction #super saiyan #luffa #lssjluffafic #zatte #arracash #rehval #ratijio #saiya

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neonthewrite · 7 years ago

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Walt and Sean

My entry for the 2018 Brothers Apart tumblr contest. I wanted to write something with @nightmares06‘s Walt Watch, since he’s one of my favorites and he recently had some huge character development in the latest story of the Brothers Apart AU. This is set sometime in the weeks/months after the first story, after Sam has left with Dean under the assumption that Walt didn’t survive the events of that story.

Hope you enjoy it! Reading time approx. 10 minutes.

Walt knew something was wrong before he had time to fully wake up. Something like a heavy weight settled over his heart and he sighed without opening his eyes. Life had thrown him too many strange new things in so many months. Sometimes he wondered if he would ever have some semblance of what he had before.

Before Mallory … before Bree … his family had been fragmented, time and time again. What had he done for fate to lay its hands on him like that not once, but twice? He didn’t even know what had become of Sam.

That boy … Walt had known what he was, and hadn’t cared. In his old life, he was as much a danger to Walt as any other human.

Seeing that little face, full of fear he tried to hide, had decided for him. He and Mallory had been no match for those plaintive hazel eyes, full of tears the boy didn’t want to release. Walt still remembered the mumbled excuses about chick-flick moments. He didn’t even know what that meant and he could tell Sam’s heart wasn’t in the words.

The boy had lost his family. Just like Walt and Mallory had lost their baby girl not a year before. They might not understand everything Sam lost, but they understood that. There was no turning him away.

And now he was gone. Mallory was gone. Walt was alone, if not for--

“Walt?” Krissy’s voice was cautious and quiet, but Walt had known the girl long enough to recognize something else in it. Worry. His pale blue eyes opened at last to take in the concerned shadows on her face.

“I can’t find Sean,” she admitted, worrying her lip. She was only inches away, her hand braced against the frame of the doorway into Walt’s small alcove. “I saw him this morning when I woke up, but now I can’t find him in the house.”

The house belonged to Krissy and her family. They didn’t have that much room, but she hadn’t hesitated to move Walt in after what happened at his own home. What was left of it was no longer safe for him. The charred remains of wood and fabric were all that remained of the life he’d built, the one he always thought he’d keep. He never asked for a lot, but even that was too much.

He sat up in bed, a customary stern frown on his face. “Did you hear him leave?”

Krissy shook her head, and golden waves so like and unlike those of his daughter waved with the motion. Walt looked away from her to stare at his hands on his lap. “Alright. I’ll go.”

Krissy sighed and the sound carried her relief with it. The humans were still fixing up the room where the floorboards had seemingly gone up in flames of their own accord. It wasn’t very safe for any of their kind to be wandering unnecessarily, not while there were repairmen around and everyone was more alert.

Krissy, with her longtime terror of the enormous beings that ran the world beyond the walls, wanted nothing to do with going out. If she didn’t absolutely have to, she wouldn’t go.

Not long after waking, Walt had his boots on and his satchel over his shoulder. He stretched his arms to the side to work out the soreness in his shoulders, and headed out of the small home hidden away in the walls.

He already had a sneaking suspicion of where he needed to go.

Walt still wasn’t quite used to the passages around Krissy’s home. Instead of the familiar space under the floorboards he knew, he found his new home, with new turns and obstacles in his way. At least, he could hope, Sean remembered the way. The kid was quiet, as shy as Sam had been, but he was smart.

Most of the time, anyway. Wandering off on his own was foolish and Walt was ready to tie him down if it got that lesson across.

He stalked silently through dust and dark, unerring on his path. After his wounds had healed enough, Walt had wasted no time setting up his tannery again. It had fallen into disuse, but it would still suit his purposes. He’d even taken Sean there several times to start teaching him the ropes and explaining how they’d use everything the next time a rat came sniffing around.

It was a trek, but he didn’t have many options. The sharp smell of the tanning solution he had, plus the inevitable odor of the messy process, were too dangerous to keep close to home. A supply closet, already steeped in its own soapy, chemical smell, was the perfect cover for his craft.

It was also one of the few places other than the house that he’d taken Sean to so far. Like Sam when he’d first arrived, the kid had a lot to get used to. He was only a boy, and his life had been completely pulled from under him. Walt and Krissy would have to be his support now.

Walt tensed when he neared his work area and heard rustling. It could be a harmless mouse, or it could be another rat come to investigate, but he doubted both. Even so, his hand slipped into his jacket as he approached, just in case he needed to draw out his razor blade in defense.

When he rounded the last corner, the tension left his shoulders and he put his hands on his hips. “You better have a good reason for scaring us to death,” he greeted. His voice, stern though it was as quiet as always, startled the small figure hunched to the ground.

Sean, a young former-human, tried to twist around to face the source of the sound, but at the same time he tripped on his own feet and fell. A quiet oof escaped him, and his breath hitched. “W-Walt?” he said, his voice cautious. He stared up, but Walt got the feeling he couldn’t really see much. He’d gotten used to the dark as quickly as anyone could expect of him, but he still had a long way to go before he would be able to see well.

Walt sighed tersely. “What were you thinking? You didn’t tell Krissy where you were going and you certainly didn’t come and find me to bring you.”

“I-I told her,” Sean mumbled. His voice was naturally quiet, even for a kid who used to be human. “Just … real quiet, I guess.”

Walt believed it. Even through the resigned nervousness in the boy’s voice, he couldn’t hear any hint of a lie. There was a chance he had tried to tell Krissy where he was going while she was busy with something else.

“You shouldn’t have come out here by yourself. What if you got lost?” he scolded, still not ready to let up.

Sean shifted so his knees were closer to his chest and he looked contemplatively at his hands. “I was gonna surprise you,” he muttered, almost too quiet for even Walt to hear. “Since … since I spilled all the dust last time.”

Walt paused, caught off guard by the boy’s honest excuse. Last time he’d brought Sean to the work area, he’d fumbled a bag of the dust that Walt used for his tanning. The mixture of what salt he could get from the kitchens, plus crumbled plaster and sawdust, was a must when drying out rat pelts.

The cloud of powder in the air had nearly thrown them both into a hacking fit. Walt had scolded Sean for it while hastily dragging the coughing, teary-eyed kid away. It wasn’t the worst that could happen, but if someone had heard…

Walt’s expression softened despite his determination, and he squatted down to Sean’s level. He could see the boy’s contrition even in the shadows under the floor, but Sean watched him with caution. He couldn’t tell what Walt was thinking in return.

“I’m not worried about the dust,” Walt told him, opting instead for a gentler tone. It didn’t come naturally for him, and he put a hand on Sean’s shoulder to help. “It’s easy to clean that up once it’s all settled.”

“Y-yeah,” Sean agreed quietly. He’d already made good progress sweeping handfuls of it into a pile, now abandoned next to him.

“I am worried about you,” Walt continued. Sean ducked his head, but it didn’t stop the lecture from coming. He needed to hear it. “There’s a lot for you to learn, but you shouldn’t go trying to figure it all out yourself. We’re here to help, and you cannot go off on your own like this again. Even if you never leave the walls, you could run into danger.”

Sean looked up again, guilty tears brimming in his eyes, and for a moment Walt saw Sam’s grubby face instead. Lonely and determined, but young and scared. Walt had seen that boy grow into a strong young man, quick and smart and as good a climber as anyone had ever seen.

He’d lost Sam. Krissy didn’t talk about him much ever since Sean showed up. Walt would have to do better this time.

“C’mere.” It was an awkward motion so early in Sean’s time with them, but Walt drew the boy into a hug. There was a pause in which they stayed like that, waiting in the dark, and Walt felt the tension slowly work its way out of Sean’s shoulders.

“‘Kay,” Sean finally replied, muffled into Walt’s jacket. “I won’t do it ‘gain. Promise.”

Walt gently patted Sean’s hair before drawing back and looking him in the eye. “See that you don’t,” he instructed. Then, “Now, since we’re here, we might as well finish up your good work and bag that dust up. Then you can go and apologize to Krissy.”

#ba contest entry 2018 #walt and sean #walt watch #sean #krissy vent #brothers apart #fanfiction #supernatural #in the walls #lecture #sam winchester #mywriting

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digitalrajeev · 4 years ago

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The Blockbuster Home Business offering This 2021!

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