#could talk about how its all done with a sneer and that hes happy lording this power over the player

[utterdrip]

ppl will see the new aa kisses and be like yeah. that’s normal thats healthy he loves them in a real way that isnt toxic at all

[luminnara]

Victor Zsasz x Reader NSFW | 18+

Fandom: Birds of Prey/DC

I don’t see nearly enough BOP!Zsasz appreciation here, so I’m determined to change that. Reader is fem, but if there’s interest I can definitely write stuff for male or nb! The reader also has a whole backstory because I’m way more into world and character building than I am reader inserts so this is practically a little OC fic lol

This is sort of set pre-Birds of Prey, don’t worry about it too much, it’s just fun

Warnings: Violence, Zsasz being Zsasz, reader is an assassin who unalives people, light smut

This is short because I’m testing the waters! If there’s interest, I’ll write a part 2!!

Requests are open!

When Roman announced that he was hiring a new girl, Victor was less than thrilled. He liked what they had going--Roman was the money and the brains, and Victor was the muscle, the devout follower, and the one who loved to spill blood. They didn’t need anybody else, especially not a new hitman, and especially not a girl.

You had grown up in Gotham City’s East End, a district that was infamous for harboring all sorts of crime. You knew every street, every dark alley, every burnt out shell of a once-great building. The East End was a far cry from Gotham’s nicer neighborhoods, with their shining skyscrapers and big fancy department stores, but what could you say? The East End was home. It was dark and gritty and dangerous, but you loved that about it. 

Besides, it’s not like you could really go anywhere else. 

You had developed quite a reputation for yourself over the past few years. Places like the East End have a tendency to breed criminals, and you were no exception--as soon as you left home, you followed right in your mother’s footsteps and became a gun for hire. Thanks to your family name, you had no trouble taking on the odd merc job here and there, working for mob bosses who didn’t mind the mess you tended to leave behind. Silent, sneaky kills weren’t really your thing, but you never really got into the whole...artistic thing that a lot of other killers did. You didn’t sit there and fuck around with the blood and guts, you just...weren’t very tidy. You were quick, but you weren’t clean. If somebody wanted their enemies taken out quietly, they knew not to even look in your direction, because you were not the girl for the job. 

If somebody wanted to make a statement, though...

You were more than happy to crush some skulls and splatter some blood across the sidewalk for the right price. 

Of course, so much killing got to be exhausting after a while, and even brutal assassins like yourself needed to relax every so often. So, that’s how you found yourself finishing up a job and heading back to your modest little apartment, hopping in the shower, and scrubbing all the blood and dirt off your skin as if you had just spent a long day at the office. It was all normal for you--the killing, the shady bosses, the weirdos you worked with--and you treated it the same way any of those prim and proper office people in Old Gotham treated their day jobs. It was a way to make ends meet, something to pay for groceries and take care of the bills...only, in your case, you were generally paid fully in cash, and sometimes that cash had some suspicious stains on it. 

But hey, work was work, right?

That night, you headed to a club you had yet to check out. Done up in a little black dress and wearing some very expensive pearls you had nabbed off of a target a few months back, you took a cab and found yourself entering The Black Mask.

It was a nice spot, the booths and bar all packed with socialites and crime lords. Waitresses and shot girls flitted around, there was a band playing on the stage, and the atmosphere seemed to be cheerful. Honestly, it wasn’t what you had expected, given what you’d heard about its owner.

Roman Sionis was a businessman, as he liked to call himself, who had been steadily growing his empire. He practically owned the entire East End now, and word on the street was he was looking to expand further into the rest of Gotham. You had never met the man, but you had enough mutual connections that Roman knew exactly who you were the moment he spotted you at the bar.

“Zsasz, go get her,” he said, gesturing towards you with a gloved hand.

Zsasz followed his gaze and tilted his head slightly. “You got it, boss.”

You were minding your own business, ordering yourself a gin and tonic and elbowing drunk men out of your way as you carved a little spot for yourself at the bar. They were rambunctious, leaning towards you with wide grins and beady eyes that told you they were hoping to get lucky tonight.

As you were getting ready to throw another elbow, the men suddenly scattered, vanishing into the crowd as if something had scared them off. The bartender set your drink down in front of you, and just as you raised the glass to your lips, the scent of musky cologne filled your nose and you looked up to see none other than the notorious Victor Zsasz standing before you.

“Boss wants to talk with you.” He said simply, his voice rough and hoarse.

But you were too busy taking in his facial features to really listen to his words. His short hair was the lightest blonde you had ever seen, almost snowy in color, a stark contrast to the black stubble that covered his jaw. He was wearing a silky dress shirt the color of red wine, or dark blood, the kind that was thick and coagulated and dripped off of knives so beautifully.

As he stared right back at you, you saw the scars that cut into his face, straight, meticulously carved lines that you were sure he had given himself. After all, just as you did, Victor Zsasz had a reputation, and while you had never met him, you had heard plenty about the sadistic assassin who kept tally marks of all of his victims.

Part of you wondered just how many he had.

You took a sip of your drink, eyes never leaving his. “I only just got here. I haven’t even paid for my drink.”

“On the house, courtesy of Mr. Sionis.” Zsasz said, regarding you with heavily lidded eyes as he looked down at you.

Just as you knew of him, he knew of you. Even though he was pretty much locked in place with Roman now, Zsasz heard plenty about everyone else in the East End. You practically ran in the same circles, and he had to admit, he was a tiny bit curious about the lady assassin everyone was raving about. He almost admired the messiness of your kills, but he also thought that you were sloppy and too quick, never taking the time to truly appreciate what you were doing.

Now, as he glanced down at the swell of your tits as they practically spilled out of your dress, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to kill you, or fuck you, or both.

“It’s rude to stare, Mr. Zsasz.” You teased as you caught him.

“It’s rude to keep the boss waiting.” He shot right back.

“Fine.” you sighed, pushing away from the bar. “Lead the way.”

He offered his hand and you took it, holding onto him gingerly. The crowd parted for Zsasz in a way that they never would for you, smoothly and easily, club patrons giving him polite, frightened nods as he pulled you past. His grip on your hand was tight and harsh, squeezing as if you might try to run, but in all honesty, you were marveling at how warm his skin was around yours. You didn’t hate the way he led you over to his employer, and you knew that he was being gentle, or at least his version of it. 

When he brought you before Roman Sionis, he immediately let go of you, moving to stand next to his boss. Roman himself was sitting in a booth, sinking into the lavish red velvet upholstery as he held a drink in his gloved hand. He regarded you with a calm smile, immediately gesturing for you to take a set across from him. 

So you did, and the rest was history.

Roman Sionis had heard of you, and when he realized that you lived in the East End, in his East End, he had to have you. He had to own you. So, he did what he always did with people, and he bought you. All you had to do was complete one little, simple job for him, and he would keep you around on a regular salary, giving you all the benefits of joining his tiny little family. You passed his test with flying colors, taking out your target faster than Roman could have hoped for, and the next thing you knew, you were spending your days lurking around Roman’s penthouse. 

You stayed quiet and obedient, not wanting to give Roman any reason to get rid of you. It was a good, steady gig, one you didn’t want to pass up, but you could tell that Zsasz wasn’t pleased. He scowled at you, always waiting for you to trip, always ready to watch you fall. You got the feeling that he viewed you as an intruder, someone who was messing up his life even though you gave him more than enough space. He would raise his lip in a sneer whenever you passed, showing off gold teeth in a maddeningly handsome way that always had you hoping and praying that he wouldn’t notice the way your cheeks sometimes flushed. He never seemed to care, as he never made any other moves. Maybe he was under strict orders not to fuck with--or just plain fuck---you, or maybe he legitimately didn’t want to. 

You didn’t know why you had started to care so much. 

You didn’t know about the way he watched your ass when you walked away from him, or the lewd way he sometimes palmed himself right out in the open. You never heard his pants and moans as he got off to the thought of you wrapped around him, and you never got to hear your name rolling off his tongue as he spilled into his hand, hips rocking of their own accord. 

Yeah, Zsasz was pretty much head over heels. He was fucked. 

He didn’t know why he liked you so much. There was just something about you, something about the way you walked and talked that always made his cock hard. He had reached the point where you would enter a room, and his pants would grow tight. Did you even know? Could you possibly fathom the torture you were putting him through every single day in Roman’s penthouse? Zsasz wanted to grab you and bend you over something, anything, hike that cute little skirt up and just go to town on your cunt. He dreamed about it at night, he wanted it, he craved the taste of your pussy...

But he couldn’t have it. 

Not yet. 

He would wait. He could be patient. After all, Roman came first. Roman always came first. Zsasz needed to focus on keeping his boss calm and happy, and he couldn’t afford to get distracted, no matter how much he wanted to press you up against the windows and fuck you so that the entire East End could see who you belonged to. 

No matter how badly he wanted it, Zsasz would wait. 

[zukoszukhoes]

Don’t Speak- Part 2

// Zuko x reader soulmate au

// part 1 here

// part 3 here

//warnings: none

You slipped your cuff off and your own words came to light. The words on yours and Zuko’s wrists began to turn golden from the inside, shining brighter and brighter until the words disappeared from your wrists in a blaze of light, confirming the worst.

You and Prince Zuko really were soulmates.

Except, after seeing what he was capable of, you knew you’d never love him.

“Lotty,” you started quietly, keeping your eyes trained on Zuko. “There’s a sack of gold coins hidden in the back of my dresser. Go get it and leave this place as quickly as you can.”

“But, (Y/N)-”

“Do it. Now.”

Without another word, Lotty scurried from the clearing, leaving you and the prince alone. For a minute, the two of you just stared at each other, Zuko’s gaze full of shock.

“You know,” you started. “It makes me wonder what kind of person I am if I have you as my soulmate.”

Zuko stumbled backwards, like the words were a literal blow to his chest. “I’m- I’m sorry! I didn’t know-”

You scoffed. “If you had known, would it have changed anything? Would you have let her go?”

Zuko stayed silent. 

“That’s what I thought.” You sneered, turning away. “You’re just as cruel as the rest of your family.”

When you turned back around, Zuko was gone.

That night, dinner was... tense, to say the least.

“I apologize that dinner was so late, Prince Zuko. We haven’t been able to find our head maid.” Your mother said.

At the mention of Lotty, you glared at Zuko.

Zuko swallowed uncomfortably, shooting you a glance. “Yes, um, that is unfortunate.” It seemed Zuko would keep your secret- for now.

“If only it could have been avoided,” you said suddenly, glaring daggers at Zuko. Your parents raised their eyebrows in surprise, seeing that you were finally speaking to the prince, who looked flushed and extremely uncomfortable. Your father shot you a look and quickly changed the subject.

“I hope you’ve had a pleasant stay so far. I saw you were exploring the gardens earlier. I’m afraid I have no talent with gardening; I’m lucky to have such a gifted wife.” You father remarked, smiling at your mother.

“They are very beautiful.” Zuko said softly.

Your mother blushed with pride. “I’ve had lots of help. (Y/N) is a very proficient gardener as well. Perhaps they could continue gardening at the palace.”

You choked on your food in surprise. “Mother!” Your mother raised an eyebrow, as if, now that you and the prince were speaking, your engagement was practically guaranteed. She looked to Zuko, no doubt expecting some a look of agreement, but was met with his flushed face and uncomfortable silence.

Your father cleared his throat. “How about dessert?”

You stood up from the table suddenly. “I’m sorry, I think I’m still sick from yesterday. If you don’t mind, I’ll retire early to my room.” And before your parents could object, you scurried from the room as fast as you could.

“Please excuse (Y/N)... they can be very headstrong.” You heard your mother say weakly as you walked out. You stopped in the door, turning around briefly and catching Zuko’s molten gaze.

His eyes glittered with regret. “I know.” He said quietly.

~~~

Sitting in the quiet light of a flickering candle, a book laid flat before you, you tried to calm down. Thinking about Zuko and what he had done to Lotty still made you seethe with anger. Taking deep breaths, you thought of peaceful memories: taking walks on the beach with your friends, tending to the garden with your mother, going into town with Lotty-

You smacked your book shut with a bang. Fresh anger reignited in your chest at the thought of Lotty, knowing she was gone- at the hands of the prince, no less. Moving to the window, you took in a full breath of the clear night air, letting your feelings ebb away with each cycle of air that filled your lungs.

Suddenly, a knock came at the door.

A sigh escaped your lips. It was probably your mother there to ask you about Zuko- and that was the last thing you wanted to talk about. “Go away, mother. I’m not feeling well.” You called.

“It’s actually me. Can I come in?” Zuko’s hopeful voice answered.

You groaned and trudged over to the door, yanking it open with an unnecessary amount of force. Zuko stood on the other side. “What do you want?” You growled.

“I came to talk to you. I wanted to apologize for what happened earlier.”

You scoffed. “Sure you do. Now, if you’ll excuse me-“ you went to close the door, but Zuko pushed against it, staring down at you with yearning.

“Please,” he whispered, his face inches from yours. “At least let me explain.”

Your face burned at the feel of Zuko so near. He was so close you felt as if his warmth was hugging you, pulling you into him and hypnotizing you into never leaving. You looked away. Snap out of it! You yelled at yourself. Don’t forget what he’s done. Who he is.

But yet... his face seemed so genuine...

You stepped back from the door and crossed your arms. “You have five minutes.”

Zuko smiled briefly and nodded, stepping into the room. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “First off, I’m sorry that you saw me act the way I did earlier. What you saw wasn’t me. I mean, it was, but not the real me- anyways...” He took a deep breath, looking up to capture your gaze. For a moment, he stared into your eyes, like he could convey everything he was trying to say with a look. You glared and turned away, refusing to feel any sympathy for him.

“I think you know how the Fire Nation corrupts people,” Zuko started. “It takes good people and fills them with hatred towards the rest of the world. I’ve seen it firsthand, when I was banished. We’ve always been taught that it’s the Fire Nations’ job to share its success with the world, to help the nations less fortunate than itself. But the rest of the world doesn’t see us as saviors; they see us as killers.” Zuko glanced up briefly. “In the royal family, we were taught that to the extreme. After all, it would be my job one day to continue my ancestors’ legacy- to take over the world and finish the mission they started. When I was tasked with capturing the Avatar, I saw it as just one more accomplishment to add to my legacy as Fire Lord. I thought that it would make me honorable- in the eyes of my father, my family, my nation. I thought it would make me worthy to be Fire Lord.”

You felt your arms loosen slightly, a drop of pity filling your heart alongside anger.

“When I was accepted back to the Fire Nation, I thought I’d finally be happy. I had everything I wanted! My father was proud of me. I should have been happy. But I wasn’t. I was- and am- angrier than ever and I don’t know why!” His voice rose in pitch until he was yelling, fists clenched by his side. He looked up, catching your apprehensive expression, and shuddered with guilt. “I didn’t mean to do what I did today. I really didn’t. But being here- in the Fire Nation again- it’s turned me into a person I don’t recognize.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. Zuko looked up at you, lips parted in surprise. You wrapped your arms around your torso, averting your gaze so he wouldn’t see the pity in your eyes. “I understand how you feel. Sometimes things get so twisted here that you don’t know what’s real anymore.”

Zuko nodded silently. You took a deep breath, hating yourself for not hating Zuko, and continued. “You know, I had a brother.”

Zuko’s eyes widened. Your eyes fluttered close, the familiar wave of sorrow washing over you at your brother’s memory. “Jin-Yan. He was five years older than me. Before he-“ you stopped, taking another breath to quell the tremor in your voice. “Before he died, I believed everything the Fire Nation taught us. I thought that we were the greatest nation in the world. But when my brother turned 18, he was drafted to go to war. We were all so proud.” You shook your head. “Six months after he left, he came home for the Winter Solstice celebration and told me everything. About the thousands of people dying because of the Fire Nation. How whole cities are being burned to the ground. I’d heard stories growing up, but I’d never believed them until he told me. He said that the war wasn’t bringing prosperity to the world like we were taught; it was bringing destruction.”

“What happened to him?” Zuko asked softly, a hint of fear in his voice.

Hatred hardened the lines of your face. “They asked him to kill an innocent child, just because she was an earth bender. He refused. They were going to force him to do it anyways, so he deserted. The general caught him in less than an hour. That very same night, Jin-Yan was executed for treason.” A single angry, hot tear trickled down your cheek.

Suddenly, Zuko was beside you, a warm hand on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” He said softly.

You ripped your shoulder out of his grasp and turned away. “Don’t act like you’re sorry when we both know you don’t mean it. Just this morning you were ready to take another member of my family to her execution. You’re no better than the general.”

“I know,” he whispered.

You whipped around to him, heart stammering. You don’t what you’d expected from him, but you certainly hadn’t expected him to agree with you.

“I meant it when I said I was sorry, (Y/N). What I did today was wrong. I can only promise you that I’m trying to be better, and ask for your forgiveness.” Zuko vowed, golden eyes boring into yours.

You turned away so you wouldn’t have to face the sincerity in his gaze. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you squeezed your eyes shut to block out the voices telling you to forgive him, telling you that he was genuine. But then you remembered Jin-Yan, his voice whispering in your mind not to trust anything or anyone in the Fire Nation, and your willingness to forgive disappeared.

“I can’t.” You whispered, turning to meet his gaze again.

Zuko simply nodded. “I understand.” 

You meant it. You didn’t forgive him. But he was so close, his scent a delicious drug as it filled your nostrils, that your body leaned into him of its own accord. Zuko glanced down to your lips, breath hitching quietly, and placed a tentative hand on your jaw as he leaned in-

“(Y/N), darling, are you awake? I want to speak with you.” Your mother’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. Instantly Zuko and you sprang apart, clearing your throats uncomfortably and doing your best to hide your twin blushes.

“I-I’m awake. Can you come back later, please?” You called back to your mother, your voice weak.

“(Y/N), you can’t ignore me fore-“ your mother pushed open the door and stopped in her tracks when she saw Zuko. Her mouth dropped open. “Prince Zuko!”

Zuko’s face blushed to match his robes as he bowed deeply. “Mrs. (L/N). If you and (Y/N) need to talk, I was just about to leave-“

“There’s no need for that, I’ll just come back some other time-“

“Mother!” You hissed, giving her a look.

Your mother smiled sheepishly. “I’ll leave you two alone. Goodnight, (Y/N). Prince Zuko.” She curtsied to Zuko and exited quietly.

You groaned and collapsed into the closest chair, hands shielding your face from having to meet Zuko’s gaze. To your surprise, however, Zuko started to chuckle.

“What?!” You cried, looking up from your hands. Zuko was smiling down at you like you were the most precious thing in the universe. Seeing his grin, you swore your heart skipped a beat.

“Your family. They’re nice.”

You buried your face in your hands again. “They’re embarrassing. I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s kind of... nice, I guess, to see a normal family.”

You looked up once more. “What do you mean?”

Zuko glanced at you then looked away, his gaiety disappearing. “Nothing. Just forget it.”

Crossing your arms, you rose and gave Zuko a pointed look. “It’s not nothing. Tell me the truth.”

Zuko glanced at you again, his cheeks reddening even deeper. “My mother is dead. Or at least, I think she is. And my father...” he trailed off. He didn’t need to explain for you to understand. The Firelord was a cruel and ruthless ruler; you couldn’t imagine having him as a father.

“I’m sorry.” You said, this time you putting your hand on his shoulder to comfort him. Except Zuko didn’t push you away.

“It’s getting late.” He finally said after a moment of silence.

You nodded and pulled away, your hand strangely cold after being in contact with his warm skin. “Yeah. I should probably go to sleep.”

“Probably. “He moved to the door to leave, but before he could go, you caught him by the arm.

“Zuko-“ you started. He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t mean what I said. About you being cruel.”

Surprise pushed Zuko’s eyebrows upwards, but his shock quickly melted into warmth. “Thank you.”

Your hand trailed off of his arm. “Goodnight, Zuko.” You whispered. He smiled faintly, eyes glittering, and turned down the hall. You watched his figure recede into the blackness of night, shivering as the last glimpse of his amber eyes disappeared into the dark.

When he was finally gone, you crawled into your bed to sleep, but you knew you would be awake all night. Your heart was thumping wildly and you were jittery, like you’d been electrified. A sense of dread settled deep inside of you. Every moment you were with Zuko, your hatred sifted away like grains of sand on a desert dune. Your heart kept betraying you; beating too fast and making you do stupid things like almost kiss him. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but like him.

You glared at the wall, pushing your feelings deep down into your stomach. Even if he was your soulmate, he was still destined to be Firelord- which meant that one day, he would continue the era of killing and destruction his ancestors had brought down on the globe. His apology was sincere, but it was no guarantee that he was the person he claimed he was trying to be. You’d simply have to try harder not to like him; because, soulmates or not, you could never stand by someone who would only bring evil to the world.

~~~

“Get up.” A voice snapped you out of your dreams. “Get up!” The voice yanked your covers off of you.

“What- mother!” You cried incredulously, launching upwards with the sudden cold. “I’m in my night-wear!”

“Oh, hush. Now, get dressed, and quickly.”

“Why?” You frowned, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“Because,” your mother said, throwing you a ceremonial robe. “The Fire Lord has requested your presence at the palace.”

taglist:

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[eleanore-delphinium]

The Demon’s Head

Damian Al Ghul for a moment was a hero. And in that time that he was a hero, naturally he would meet other heroes.

That was how he met her.

His Raven.

He would describe her as a very graceful woman. She was quiet, kind, generous and lovely. Despite her name sounding as if it should belong to a lonely person or an unkind being, she was none of these. But her name did befit her origins. In the sense that she is the daughter of a being synonymous to satan; and of intergalactic alien origin, the conqueror of worlds. Therefore, the name Raven as ominous as it was, befit her well, and yet also-- not so well.

But that was the thing, he was only a hero for only a moment. That moment was all that mattered, since—after all, that was how he met her. As she continued on her heroic path, he returned to what he knew to be right as a child, the path of darkness.

He took upon himself, the name Al Ghul, a name synonymous to a demon, and he used it well. And thus, Damian Al Ghul was reborn anew, he became the Demon’s Head. The name became associated to a cruel, cruel man. But he changed the ways of his organization, and tread very, very strictly on a grey line. And in doing so, he keeps his Raven. And remember it well and do not forget, he only stays on that grey line to keep her by his side.

And if anything were to happen to his beloved Raven, he will cross to the darkness before one could even blink his own eyes, and will burn everything and anything in his path with his bare hands.

So, make no mistake by taking his Raven away or you will live a life even more painful than death. For Damian Al Ghul has a league of assassin as his army, who are extremely loyal to him. And him alone.

Killing for him was as easy as dropping a needle on a hay stack.

Damian Al Ghul, the leader of the league of assassins, stood inside his throne room made of beautiful marble in ivory and gold. The sun high up in the sky, its light entering the space so blindingly. The sunlight weaves through the pillars and mashrabiya* leaving beautiful intricate patterns on the marble floors. The sunlight helped give an illusion of brightness and happiness and warmth to the chamber.

Damian was facing his throne, his back against the door as he read the papers he was holding with his right hand. His left hand resting against his back, atop his green cape. He was wearing his black with gold uniform and armor with a green cape in contrast to the almost white room. And with his cold facial expression one would be reminded, that all the sunlight was giving after all, was just an illusion of warmth.

Damian Al Ghul was not kind at all. But of course, there is an exception to the rule.

The door suddenly opened with a burst and a loud bang, and Damian’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance. He had strictly told them that he shouldn’t be disturbed unless necessary. He coaxed himself thinking that it had to be an emergency. With narrowed eyes he tilts his head a bit to the left to acknowledge the presence of the intruder.

“My Lord!” A man in an all-black suit says hurriedly as he kneels on the floor with a thud. His left leg against the floor while the other propped up to let his right arm rest on top. His head bent toward the floor.

“What is it that you have to report?” His enunciation of every word unhurried and heavy. Damian could hear the gulp from his poor frightened little underling. Even if said underling was twenty meters away.

“It’s—it’s the Lady.” The poor man could barely say. And even though the sun was high up in the sky, and that it’s light shone brightly in the room, making the chamber look as if it was glittering, it became cold. So cold, that both people seemed frozen in place, but the poor underling was the one fighting his shivers.

“What about the Lady?” Damian asked a little too clearly, that the poor subordinate could only kneel on both knees, bend his body and rested his forehead against his hands that was now on the floor. At this point, Damian turned slowly, as his green eyes landed on the man in black.

“What about the Lady?” He repeated even more slowly than the last. And Damian saw his assassin shiver in fear.

“She-she has been missing for a few days, and we searched for her—but—but—she is nowhere to be found.” He reported as calmly as he could. The subordinate thought the room couldn’t possibly get any colder than it already was, but he was wrong. The moment he finished his report, he was kneeling there in pure horror, he was sure he will die today.

“It seems that my league of assassin who are supposed to be like a shadow, cannot protect their lady in the shadow.” It was spoken slowly that it was certain: that this was the calm before the storm. “It seems that my league of assassins lack training.” He concluded.

“You cannot even track down your lost lady, why do I even keep any of you!” Damian’s voice echoed through the chambers; his fury clear. And yet, anyone who knew their lord, would know that was not the full extent of his anger.

No, it really wasn’t.

“Lady Shiva!” He summoned and instantly a woman with black hair up to her neck in red appeared beside the kneeling assassin.

“It seems that you have been lax in training the league.” He tells her and as she bends her torso to bow. Before she could start with her apologies, he continued on. “Prepare the top ten men in the league, and have them follow me. We will look for the lady.” He started walking down his throne.

“No, in fact, I will be looking for her. And if you so choose to have people follow me then so be it.” He said when his eyes landed on Lady Shiva as he approached them, the assassin up on his feet, his head bent low as to be respectful to their Lord.

“When I find Raven, I hope my league’s errors would be corrected. But that would be wishful thinking, won’t it, Lady Shiva? I will personally see to their training when I return.” Lady Shiva and the assassin gave way to their Lord.

“Of course, my Lord.” She mutters as he completely disappears.

 ~.~.~.~.~

 Damian held a woman in blood stained and dirt-filled white robes on his arms. Her face had cuts and bruises and she looked so weak and small against his shoulder. When he looks down at her injured face, there was a softness in his glance. A gentleness unbefitting of the Demon’s Head.

But as gentle as he was as he held her, the scene behind him was not. Orange flames flickered as he walks out from the heat and the building calmly.

“I want anyone who is even remotely related to this tracked down, and I want them tortured.” He said so calmly as he held the woman he loves in his arms. His gentle glance has become cold as he looks at his subordinates in front of him. The crunch of green grass under his feet as he continued on into the night that was illuminated by the orange flames behind him.

“If done well enough, then maybe I won’t be so strict when I train you all. Prove that you all aren’t so useless after all.” His tone stone cold.

The gentleness from before must have been an illusion. Because this was the Damian Al Ghul, they all love, respected and oh-so-feared.

“Of course, my Lord.” One replied with a bow.

“No.” They pause as they wait for Damian’s final instructions. “Keep the master mind alone, I would love to capture and torture them myself.” And the shadows that was surrounding him disappeared. Raven stirred in his arms, against his chest.

“Damian?” She called out weakly. And he stood frozen as he took a peek eagerly at the woman in his arms. “They didn’t know.” She mumbles and he couldn’t help but narrow his eyes on her. She means that it wasn’t the Justice League’s fault.

“They didn’t know it was going to be a trap.” She tried to keep her head a float.

“And look at the price you had to pay.” He said bitterly as he sneered a little and continued walking to the jet.

“I—” She couldn’t even say anything to defend the Justice League, because she felt the turmoil in Damian. How could she defend the Justice League knowing what he was feeling?

“I didn’t mind that you wanted to continue being a hero. I would not take that from you.” He sets her down inside the jet. “And I know that you know this to be true, I only stay in between good and bad for you. If you are taken out of the equation, I have no qualms in being the Demon’s Head, in its truest sense. But you choose to love me, despite of who I am. And I will not have any one harm you. Less others think that the Demon’s head is weak.”

“You are not a bad person, my love.” She replied, as she cups his cheek. He closes his eye and places a hand over hers. He opens his eyes and meets her violets irises.

“But I can be, if I am without you.” He whispered so gently as his forehead laid against hers. The words completely true. They stay like that for a minute in silence, and he pulls away.

“You shall stay in Nanda Parbat as you recuperate. I will inform the Justice League.”  He stares at her sternly but she does not refuse him and he turns away from her.

The Justice League has been quite cautious about Raven. They knew of her relationship with the leader of the League of Assassins. And what the risk of putting her in imminent danger would mean considering Damian’s nature. Therefore, Raven was treated as if she was glass and yet, also fire.

“I begged them to give me the mission.” She said softly, she took note of Damian’s body twitching but she had to continue on. “After you left, and made a name for yourself as the new Demon’s Head, they were uncertain of where my loyalties lie.” She found it difficult to talk due to her injuries, but she had enough strength to heal herself a bit, to keep herself conscious and stop internal bleeding. And so Raven did, as she continued on.

“And then you made a point to show that you were not like your predecessor. And yet, you also made it clear you could be far worst. And I, your beloved, was someone who they could not risk in the forefront anymore.” She moved in her seat, as she felt her insides return back to how it should be. “I just wanted to do one more mission, where I wasn’t treated like a bomb, and after that, I will be done.”

He turned to look at her with a shocked expression. Her voice was calm as her face was gentle. Despite her battered appearance, she looked like a saint to him. The words he couldn’t seem to say aloud, she felt, and she responded as she closed her eyes.

“Yes, I was going to leave the Titans, and be with you. Commit fully to you.” Her voice was soft but his thoughts were a mess. And it was clear to Raven, all of his thoughts, as if they were all written on the air for her to read.

“The Justice League thought it was a harmless mission; therefore, they could let me go. It was supposed to be a reconnaissance mission, nothing more. But we were ambushed, and I was captured.” She sighs and opens her eyes to look up at Damian. The water in his eyes finally gave way as he blinked when their met, and she inhaled a breath.

“You could have died.” He said it lightly, that Raven’s heart started beating fast in her ears. His cold eyes that had never been directed at her, has finally landed on her. “You could have died, if I was just a minute too late.” And like his eyes that could no longer contain his tears. Raven could not ignore his emotions. And she broke into a sob, as she covered her lips with her fingers. He knelt beside her, as he put a hand on her cheek.

And his face was not cold nor was it warm. The eyes she had seen him use with his fellow assassins had disappeared. She didn’t expect that the day he would look at her, the way he did his subordinates, would happen.

“Are you crying for me?” He whispered and she sniffed as she looks at him. But still, even if his cold stare was frightening. She could never be afraid of Damian Al Ghul, even if he was an Al Ghul, and the current Demon’s Head.

“I’m sorry.” She tried to contain the emotions. And she could feel the apology he was about to say. And before he could, she leans her forehead against his. Places her right thumb over his lips as her palm rested on his jaw. “But I swear to you, I am done with being a hero. I want to walk that grey line with you.”

And his lips turned up into a smile. A smile that was only ever directed at her. His gentleness and kindness only exclusive to her. His warmth only reserved for her. And she could feel it all in her chest, and in her very bones.

The love he has for his beloved Raven.

And the danger, if he loses his bird.

 (FIN)

  Notes:

*Mashrabiya = those wooden windows with intricate design; (wiki says: is an architectural element which is characteristic of traditional architecture in the Islamic world and is a type of projecting oriel window enclosed with carved wood latticework).

[enha-woodzies]

➸ CHAPTER 2 | " TEA IS SPILLED "

starring: enhypen ft. i-land daniel

pairing: jungwon x fem!reader x sunghoon

genres: royal au, romance, angst, slowburn, 18th century setting

word count: 1.8k

taglist: @serendipitysung (again, thank u for beta reading this chap) @angeljungwon @en-sun @affectionaterainoflove @renkiv @softforjungwoo @jislix @fluffi @gyeraniee @miffythoughts

[ PREV. CHAPTER ] | [ M. LIST ] | [ NEXT CHAPTER ]

In a family of four, the grand manor is typically too massive of a place to frolic about considering the children are, now more than ever, entering the wobbly world of adulthood. Lady Park isn't at all saddened, not even the slightest, of the lack of silly beings bouncing around the halls. Her three blissful children are more than enough to fulfill the abundance needed to fill up these wide walls of comfort.

With wild banters resonating from the top floors to the angry cries of frustration and bullets being fired in the grassy yard, boisterous laughters even in the parlour and magnificent tunes from the pianoforte in the lobby, who would've thought the widowed lady only has three creatures in the solace of her household?

But of course, despite the few kiddos giddily leaping around and about the toughly cemented abode, the house never once lacked a single servant happily offering their services to the ever most humble aristocratic family. They rather consider it as the greatest honor to have even worked in this clan as they, amongst the fewer fews, have exuded nothing but kindness, generosity, and upholding of such exquisite manners despite their highly-acclaimed titles and places in Northumberland’s high-class society.

It’d be a blessing to be affiliated with the three children and whoever be so lucky to earn such fortune is very favored in life indeed. One would say they and the Yang family have always been the highly influential clans even of late and who wouldn't dare say? The two rich families have been one of the greatest friends of the city. Even their children could almost pass as siblings due to the tight-knit bond they shared over the years. Kindred spirits, I dare say.

This season will duly prepare the fine and charming jewel of the family, Lady Y/n, as the debutante’s ball is coming up briefly. A day well spent in the modiste is a woman's dainty bliss as the perfectly sewn dress is finally ready for appealing suitors and the royalty herself, the Queen.

“You look nothing more than gorgeous, sister. Madame Fleur has outdone herself again with another splendid piece.” Jay, the eldest of the family, pinches the silky fabric while gently pulling it upwards to gain better access to the dress’ features.

“Thank you, Jay. Although I admit, the measurements in the waist are a bit funny.”

“I wouldn't doubt that. It is Mother’s liking to keep your corset tight and deadly.” The eldest rubs his chin in contemplation. “Rest assured if you need any assistance in loosening that wretched piece of torture, Niki and I will be of help at the ball.”

“Again, brother, thank you. And speaking of help, where's Niki? He was supposed to help me with my waltz today.”

"I have no idea. Last I saw him he was with Daniel. Shouldn't he be home by now?"

Without any warning, the youngest comes dashing into the parlour like a carefree prince who just had the best slumber of his life.

“I’m right here. Forgive me, dear sister, for my unannounced absence in today's dance practice. I shall have you know, the Duke’s son sent us an invitation this morning. One that Daniel and I,” the two eldest eye him suspiciously, awaiting a usual remark whenever the topic is about the marquess. “refused to reject… surprisingly.” Niki clicks his tongue before proceeding to join his siblings on the cushioned couch.

“Shocker. Tell me, brother, was your day positively horrific?” Jay sarcastically huffed. “Oh, you don't have the slightest idea.” The two boys joined together for a rather boisterous laugh that made the only lass cross her arms as she sits between the two brothers.

“How’s life treating Park?” Jay questions. “Oh, you know. The usual. Living in luxury as well as wasting it away. He seemed more ashen lately.” Niki downs a glass of water that was resting on the coffee table.

After a few more barbs and laughs against the Duke’s only son, Y/n decides to butt in as time’s a wastin. “Apologies for the intrusion, but it’s necessary for me to rehearse for the dances I might have in two days' time, unlike you two who are accustomed to sweeping girls off the dance floor. Come, Niki, before mother sees me to bed.”

In the middle of an exhausting rehearsal with his sister, Niki sits down on the edge of Y/n’s bed with both hands leaning on the mattress. “You could've asked Jay.” he mutters under his breath.

It's not that the boy was complaining to teach waltz, it was more of trying to keep himself away from social interactions for the time being as he felt the need to mope again after a long while.

“True, I could have. But I haven't seen you wandering about the house today. Except this morning when I was awakened by your harsh firing in the garden.” Y/n looks over her shoulders to give a playful glare at the nearly knackered, blonde-haired lad. “How was your day, Riki?”

“Don’t call me that.” He hisses.

“Must I remind you that I was the one who wiped your tushy when you were a tiny bum and I also-”

“Oh you must, mustn't you?” Niki throws his hands in the air in vexation. But his sister could only smile at him in a manner that he couldn't argue any further. “Fine. We did fencing today, with the Duke’s trophy of a son.”

“You know, I never understood your hatred towards that man. I envy Jay, honestly. He gets to listen to your burdens about the marquess and console you."

“Soon, sister. The story’s very… profound.” Niki lazily plops his body back on the fluffy mattress with both hands at the back of his head.

“You mean the feelings behind that story?”

“You're too keen on unearthing this from me, aren't you? You clever bean.” Niki smirks at his sister’s antics.

“Anything to have my little brother confess. I am your most favorite sibling after all, am I not?” Y/n intertwines her fingers with her brother’s and seals it with a comforting kiss right on his thumb.

“Whatever it is, no matter how inexpressible or profound it may be...”

“Thank you, Y/n. I’m going to miss these melodramatic moments with you.” The lass scoffs at Niki’s almost sweet words. “It's not like I’m guaranteed marriage this season.”

“Oh but mother will do anything to try and get you married. That's guaranteed right there. Although Jay will be meddling at most in choosing a husband who's fit enough for you. But whoever that lucky chap may be, as long as he makes you happy, he already has my blessing.”

“Do you think Jungwon will ask someone's hand this season?” Y/n joins her brother on the bed as they both stare at the ceiling in deep ponder. Niki gulps at the very sudden question from his sister, but he shrugs it away as he recalls a distant memory of her and Jungwon frequently fighting over twigs and branches when they were nothing but ten.

“Jay can only answer that for you. Why don’t you ask Sunoo? He never misses an opportunity to spill details about his brother to you.”

“But that would be too much, wouldn't it?” Y/n sighs in exhaustion. “I can never get that man to look in my direction.”

“He’d be damned to even try to, especially when Jay’s around. He may be his best pal but Jay has always been very protective about you.”

“Whoever’s the pretty lady to be asked by Jungwon will definitely be the luckiest girl, I bet.”

The boy has all the means to help his sister as he is deeply affiliated with Jungwon’s brother, Daniel. But Niki could only look at her in pity thinking of all the years Y/n has set her heart on the oblivious boy next door, only the latter seems to care less in bearing the lady’s genuine sentiments.

"Yang Jungwon!" A stern voice from a woman in her fifties resonates throughout the lad's powder room.

"Mother." He monotonously mumbled.

"Did I hear it correctly? You're not to dance with anyone at the ball?" With two hands on her waist, the young lord could almost see his mother's vein popping out on her wrinkled forehead.

"I suppose brother spilled the tea, huh? And yes, mother, you heard it correctly."

"Madness! If it weren't for Sunoo's knowledge of this I wouldn't have known. God knows what's going on inside of that brain of yours!"

"Mother, I am not fond of-"

"Nonsense! Not even the daughter of our dearest friend, Lady Park?"

"Most especially not her." Jungwon mutters under his breath.

"Do you even hear the absurdity of your words?"

"Certainly, I do, mother."

"Oh god, oh dear. You're giving me a headache right now." She rubs her temple in utter anxiety followed by a frustrated exhale. Lady Yang fumbles the surface of her dress until she got a handful of its fabric, gripping it upwards to free her steps from the hindrances while turning back from her son to leave him be. Until the eldest shows up from his supposedly brief reading schedule in the pantry.

“Ah! There you are. Talk some sense into your brother will you, dear? I might collapse if I bother to argue even more about his foolishness.” And Lady Yang leaves the two swiftly before they can even utter a word.

“What is it that you've done to mother now?” Sunoo, the eldest, walks slumpily towards Jungwon’s side while half-slamming the book on the marble counter.

“Shouldn't I be asking you that?” Jungwon side-eye him with a sneer.

“She was interrogating me with her unconquerable motherly vexes if you must know. Sincerely, brother, I'm not one to lie. Though, I did try my best.” The younger boy could only scoff at the sassy rebuttal from his brother.

“You could've tried harder. Or maybe, you could've just silenced yourself. Marvelous idea, isn't it?”

“Or maybe, you can put on a little effort to satisfy mother’s hopes even for one night. Brilliant, isn't it?”

Jungwon hisses as he unbotton his puff sleeves one by one with Sunoo looking at him in an almost scorn, pitying his brother for being a complete idiot, not to mention a coward too.

“I’m not a coward if that's what you're thinking. Let’s hear it, what would you have me do, brother?” The younger one looks at his brother’s reflection through the mirror like a brazen knight ready to be thrown into war. With both hands resting on the shiny countertop, he bites his bottom lip with a foreseeable answer in mind.

Sunoo taps the boy’s shoulder before heading to the door to leave him in his fickling decisions.

“Lady Y/n Park. Two dances, brother, then you can pray to spend the rest of your nights in peace.”

Jungwon gulps down followed by a deep sigh the moment Sunoo left the room, like an exhale he’s been trying to hold underwater for over a minute.

He could only hope that those two dances will be the last of it, or he could kiss his peaceful nights goodbye… forever.

*send me an ask or a message if you wish to be added on this series' taglist!

ㅡ ©ENHA-WOODZIES, 2021

[stormobsessed]

Avatar: The Last Bondsmith

So, I had made THIS POST about a Zuko Windrunner and his Spren Iroh, and there were a lot of comments about other radiant orders for the other characters, and a strong argument for Zuko not actually being a windrunner because his arc was less about protecting people and more about facing hard truths. That may be Lightweaver, but Lightweaver is personal truths, and Zuko doesn’t have a lot of personal lies, but is entrenched in the lies of his nation. I feel like fixing that is very Truthwatcher. 

Then… this happened, I hope you enjoy. 

The Fire Nation was full of Lightweavers. It was a court of secrets, of hidden faces, of lies. Men and women and children claimed loyalty when they felt fear, claimed morality as they killed innocent, stayed silent when they wanted to speak, and were practiced at confessing to only their spen rather than risking the words aloud. As time wore and generations changed, it came to pass that nearly every radiant in the Nation was accompanied by a cryptid, one corrupted Sja-anat and blessed by Odium to accept voidlight. The Fire Lord claimed that was good, for the Lightweavers were clearly the strongest order of radiants, with powers and abilities that overshadowed all others. He proclaimed across their country that it was this that showed that they alone deserved to rule. 

The Cryptids loved this lie. 

Was it a lie though? After all, they killed Honor and every one of his windrunners when Odium sent a comet leaking voidlight through the sky. 

Odium loved the passion and anger of the Fire nation as they utilized it and stormlight to begin razing the rest of the world to the ground, the cryptids cared not for honorable or right, only true. Sometimes the truth was cruel and ugly. 

Firelord Ozai was not shamed by truths other men dared not speak. He fully confessed to himself that he was cruel, a monster, that his campaign was about personal growth rather than the love of his nation. He held those truths so clearly, that his power was great. Great enough that when he touched his son’s face in a duel and felt dry, flaking skin, he said ‘you are fire’ and it did not disobey. 

Not even when the child screamed. 

The son was failing, only sworn to the first ideal, if any. Ozai had never seen his son’s spren, in fact if any had it would have been his traitorous, Stoneward mother with her weak oaths of being there for others. She’d broken her oaths though. She was not here for her children. In assassinating Azulon and fleeing she’d saved her son, but killed her spen. 

The boy was weak. He was too hot headed, too honest. He wore his heart on his sleeve and said every word that he thought. Sometimes Ozai doubted that he had Truth to speak at all. He was completely unlike his sister, a prodigy who could weave illusion nearly as soon as she could walk. She soulcast before the age of five. She was the most skilled Lightweaver to be born in decades. 

She had to be. She couldn’t reveal that she could not say the last truth, could not make herself try to accept it, even if the ghostly lightweaving vision of her mother that visited every night said it without fail. She couldn’t accept it. After all, if she was a monster without even the love of her mother, then surely no one could blame her for the atrocities she commited, it was simply in her nature. It was why she could smile at the duel, why she could laugh as her brother was sent on an impossible quest, why she could focus on how much closer that made her to the throne. 

Odium liked that, the passion of her people, the passion of her family, her passion. 

Zuko had passion as well, but it was not a kind that Oduim enjoyed. 

So Zuko was banished, for an impassioned speech to save men Odium considered no better than discarded toys. An impassioned plea for a useless passion. 

Zuko was almost relieved, for it gave him the opportunity to hide that his spren was not a cryptid at all. His mistspren, Iroh, spoke in a light accent that almost always had a proverb or a chuckle, and the few times Zuko risked looking into shadesmar, he found a rotund, smiling old man. Upon materializing in the material world, one of the first things he did was hear someone offer a cup of tea to a man who was distraught, and had latched onto that. Zuko could barely say a word without the kindly spren suggesting a tea break. 

Zuko feared the day that he would be material enough to actually carry the tea leaves to a cup. 

But Zuko… couldn’t say the ideals. He didn’t know what they would mean. Not at first. It wasn’t until he left a stonewards home in the Earth Kingdom, after days of hearing nothing but hate and fear towards his people, that he felt the words at his lips. 

“I will seek the truth, even when it is painful to me.” 

“Well done, Prince Zuko.” Iroh had said. “Now, how about some tea.” 

“We’re in the middle of the dessert.” 

“So?” 

“There’s no tea anywhere within a hundred miles of here!” 

“Well, all you need for tea is leaves, yes? I will find pre-tea.” 

“No, it’s not any leaves! You can’t just-” 

But Zuko almost feared that oath, for what did it mean for his mission that would restore him to his home? He was more powerful now, but would that be enough to capture the Bondsmith that he had been chasing for months? 

The bondsmiths were rare, after all, only three spren could form a bondsmith pack, and two had been damaged so dearly that they were as dead as a Spren of their nature could be for nearly a century. There was only one spren whose identity had been unknown, the spren created by the slain honor, the Avatar. 

A century past, when all manner of radiants were formed in all manner of locations, Windrunners found themselves drawn to one another, taking shelter in mountain top homes across the world where they could immediately be sent out to help others. For warriors, they were a peaceful people who desired not to fight, but to protect. Though honor spren bonded men and women of every people back then, nearly every member of the Air Nomads was a windrunner, as the men and women lived and taught their ideals. 

Aang was young when he bonded his spren, not the youngest but still young. The Windrunners wondered why they never saw the boy’s spren after he swore the first ideal, but reasoned that while honor spren were not often shy, each had their own distinct personalities and a timid spren could only help the foolhardy boy. They questioned why he did not use the gravitational lashing, though relaxed when he was able to use the surge of adhesionc Different people excelled at different elements of surge binding after all.

However, Aang was seeing a world that was starting to crack under the pre-war tensions. He saw merchants refusing trades with other nations, sneers and insults and hate. When his two closest friends, Bumi and Kuzon, both confessed that their parents forbade them from playing together, he couldn’t take it. He hated to see the balanced world tearing itself apart and uttered the words with a yell “I will unite instead of divide!” 

He was the youngest bondsmith to ever bond a spren, but the Avatar, a spren element of honor who upheld balance and unity, was sure of its choice oice. However, ironically the bond did nothing but divide him from others his age. It drove a chasm between him and his playmates, as they recognized his unique and great power. When the elders spoke, and threatened to separate the boy of unity from the only family he’d ever known he’d panicked and fled, ending up in a storm and utilizing his powers to create a protective shell around himself and his pet, his ever-renewing stormlight keeping him alive as his body froze. 

As a hundred years passed the world changed. Spren were killed, oaths were broken, and radiants were captured and tortured, until in some places, such as the Southern Water Tribe, no radiants bonded at all. None except for one girl, Katara, the daughter of a chief who saw a decimated people barely able to survive and vowed not to forget them. Who saw their pleas for help being ignored and promised to listen to those without a voice. The edgedancer glided through the stiffest snow like it was clear ice and scaled glaciers like the handholds formed at her whim. She healed the sick and wounded as her brother, Sokka, a non-radiant protected and bore the tribe’s last, hidden shardblade. 

Their father had entrusted the shardblade to him before disappearing to fight in the war, knowing that the benefit to having the blade would be outweighed by the enemies that would seek it, and the allies that were willing to become enemies to obtain it. The blade was large, a straight line of sheer unworldly black. If one were to peak into shadesmar, they would find a peakspren with skin of dark stone following the blade. If they looked closely, they might see the spren tilt its head when the boy lovingly talked to his weapon. 

In this changed world there is also a willshaper. A young girl in a gilded cage who longs to be free and wishes that others have that same option. A girl whose parents immediately, upon seeing cloudy eyes, traveled to the Nightwatcher in search of their boon and curse. Perhaps they hadn’t been clear enough, for they asked that their daughter could see the world, but her eyes did not grow clear. However, as the child began to walk upon stone itself, discarding fancy shoes and plush carpets, she found that with each step she could feel and hear the ground beneath her feet. The stone would tell her where she was, what was near, and what those around her were doing. She found a vision far beyond mere sight of the eyes, a vision constantly being renewed by light leeched from the stones themselves, just enough to keep this one power constant. This was the boon of the Nighwatcher. What was the curse? None can say. Perhaps it was that the girls parents would never truly understand the gift of the boon. Perhaps it was that the girl would never feel happy in the left they wished to foist upon her. Perhaps it was something else entirely. It didn’t matter, for when the Bondsmith, the Edgedancer, and the Shardbearer came, she could no more stay with her parents than she could break her oaths. She was taking the chance to be free. 

There were others in this world as well. There was a warrior in a green dress and war makeup, who had bonded no spren but enjoyed watching the windspren dance around her fans. The Honor spren were said to all have died in the genocide but… she couldn’t help but hope as she protected her people, then left to protect others that needed her. 

There was a princess with white hair, with startling insights into the truth of the spirit world and who would one day use her stormlight to use regrowth on a spirit, condemning herself to death on wounds she didn’t have light enough to heal. 

There was an elderly inventor, an elsecaller who had used transportation to bring himself and his crippled son to a safe place where he could work on creating fabrials to stop the war. Though, when he was discovered by the Fire Nation his work did nothing but perpetuate it. 

There was a teen of messy hair, whose spen formed dual blades. He was a skybreaker, bound to the ideal that the Fire Nation was evil, that their very presence in the world was a wrong that needed to be corrected. He lashed himself into trees and created a home for children, teaching them his ways and bonds. 

There was a girl of the Fire Nation, who was so often mistaken for her own many siblings that she was determined never to forget anyone else. She danced on the world, walking wires like it would be impossible that she should fall, gliding when others walked. 

Her friend, a willshaper who had been trapped by chains of propriety and expectation, who spoke to the ground to form weapons of peerless balance, who would appear without warning, and whose enemies often went down before knowing they were in danger. 

Zuko sought the Avatar’s Bondsmith, facing foe after foe as he travelled the world. He could find no edgedancer or truthwatcher who could heal the scar that marked him traitor, that marked him an honorless traitor. His surges were weak with the second oath, and Iroh could not form a blade until the next was spoken, leaving him with simple steel. 

In fact, it wasn’t until he had achieved his purpose, the Avatar-Bondsmith supposedly dead through the bold of ribbon that Azula had soulcast into lightening, that he was able to profess the next ideal. Name restored, sitting at the right hand of his father, he realized that there was no truth in the Fire Nation. He realized that everything he had learned his whole life were beautiful lies. He knew the truth now, and Iron sat at his shoulder with a weakening voice, imploring him not to break his oath. 

It was only then that he knew what words were pushing at his mouth, as he whispered to himself, broken, “I will see the truth declared, in spite of those who would try to hide it.” 

When he stood, Iroh was a set of Dual Doas in his hand, and he marched to confront his father on the day that Odium’s Voidlight would be eclipsed. 

[fuchsiagrasshopper]

Contending the Flame VI

Author’s Note: Happy Holiday season everyone! Hopefully you are having a better time than I am currently with work and new lockdown restrictions where I live. I already have the next two chapters written, so I plan to upload each within a week of one another. Thanks as always for being awesome!

Vikings Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word count: 2234

Warnings: Servant dynamic, language.

The coming weeks had slowed as the provisions for the Heathen army continued to dwindle. As the weather closed in around them, so too did the Saxons. Their plight to negotiate for land had gone unheeded by Ivar. Well, it was Ubbe's plan but Hvitserk had gone along with it. Lately, it seemed he was being pulled back and forth between his brothers, his only use being the mediator. He wasn't sure which brother to follow, preferring it better when they all worked in tandem. Right now it was best for him to stay out of their way. 

Ivar had returned to how he had been before, after the misfortune with Margrethe. He was terse with the thralls, and he shunned any prolonged company with women. There were moments, either when he was sitting at a table or alone in a corner, a strange look would pass over his face. Hvitserk was sure he was the only one to notice, but he didn't let on about it. 

If Ivar wondered about the nun, he never said as such, and Audhild had reported that he hadn't come around inquiring about you. On the surface, it seemed whatever had started between you was over, but Hvitserk didn't think so. You were two boats passing in the night, waiting for the other's signal.

Hvitserk had taken it upon himself to keep watch of the nun. He had told Ubbe from the start not to get involved, but now he had thrown himself in headfirst. You no longer seemed to be a danger to yourself, and Audhild had said that you thrived as a healer, though you spoke very few words. It got Hvitserk curious, and he set out to find you.

Until the battle against the Saxons would start, the healers were not so occupied. Audhild had told him where you could be found. It was a courtyard that was led in by an archway, with bushes of purple flowers. At its heart was a statue of a man who Hvitserk wondered about. Christians had these carved monuments of people everywhere. What great deeds had they accomplished that granted them the honor of being captured in stone?

He quit his thoughts as he spotted the nun hunched over by a bed of flowers. It struck him then that he didn't know your name, and the few words he picked up in English would not get him far

"Mary...erm Sister," He called, trying to recall what you had said when you were first claimed by Ivar.

You stood with abruptness from being startled, your guard up as you recognized him. Your sheared hair was now covered in a sage green scarf, twisted and wrapped not unlike the Sami people. Hvitserk could see a black and blue bruise around your left eye, about the size of a fist. "Sister Mary Catharine, and you don't have to call me that."

He was glad you had answered in his language. Though some of your pronunciation was wrong, they would get by well enough on the gist of things. "Why not?"

"I don't think I am a nun anymore, not in the eyes of God. Just Catharine will do."

As Hvitserk took a step forward, you shifted back. The mistrust hung heavy between you both, and he realized he'd have to go slow in order to gain your favor. He stood firm where he was. "What happened there?"

You gingerly touched the mark on your face he had indicated to, a sad smile forming. "I'm not the discarded whore of the crippled bastard, even if some of your men think so. When one took out his cock and tried to relieve himself on me, I fought back."

Hvitserk was disappointed to hear what had happened, though such behavior was unsurprising. His heart sunk for his brother as well. Some of the men still only thought of Ivar as the lesser son of Ragnar, even after he had proven to be a sharp mind with a fierce heart. 

"Do you know who he was?"

The nun shook her head. "No, and I have not seen him again. At least I still have the Lord's mercy."

You made a crossing gesture over your heart that Hvitserk did not understand. He spotted the cloth bandage on your wrist as well. "How's that healing?"

"It's fine," You said as you folded your arms behind your back. "Why does it matter? He didn't send you here, did he?"

The white look of terror on your face was hard to miss. You looked like a hare caught up in a trap. Hvitserk tried to think about the best way to ask his questions in order to get the answers he needed. "My little brother doesn't command me. I just wanted to know why you did it."

"I wanted to spare myself from a worse fate," You said, turning your back to him while you felt at the petals of the flowers. "I didn't want to suffer like the priest."

Hvitserk recalled what an imposing figure Ivar had cut hovering above the Christian man as he poured molten gold down his gullet. "Ivar told you about that?"

"No." You gazed over your shoulder a moment before your eyes flickered down. "I knew he had done something horrible, but it was another slave who told me. She said I should be careful, and that your brother hates all Christians."

Hvitserk took a step towards you without thinking and grabbed you by the shoulders. "What slave?"

"I don't know," You gasped while breaking out of his hold. "She came to clean the room one day. It was the first time I had spoken to anyone else besides Ivar."

"Why would she need to tend to his room when he had you?"

You frowned, seeming to forget your previous grievances for his closeness as you leaned forward. "What do you mean?"

Hvitserk knew from an early age that he was not exceptional. Ubbe is a strong swordsman and scout, Sigurd was musically inclined, and Ivar is a cunning strategist. At best he could survive raids and follow a battle plan, achievements that any of his brothers could do better. But none of them had his gut instincts, and his stomach was wrought with the feeling that a trickster had snuck their way into the camp.

"It's nothing," He said eventually, though not with enough conviction for the nun's liking.

"I don't believe you."

The earnest look on your face would have annoyed him more if not for how undisguised your naivete was. Maybe that was what drew Ivar in.

Hvitserk prepared to say more but was interrupted by a voice calling over his shoulder.

"Brother," Ivar called, followed by the indistinguishable sound of metal steps plodding the ground.

Hvitserk turned, bracing for whatever force Ivar would throw at him. If he was surprised to see the nun, he didn't let on, instead, his face sat stoically as he maneuvered forward with assurance. He was too young to look so miserable. 

Ubbe was with him, peering at the girl who had taken refuge from prying eyes behind Hvitserk's back. His was a face easier to read, both tense and curious at the discovery. Hvitserk knew he would be answering questions later.

"She won't sleep with you brother," Ivar inserted with a cold chuckle. "She's chaste."

Hvitserk scowled at Ivar's attempt to maim with petty insults. "That's not what this is. Audhild sent Catherine to tend to an old injury I sustained from my raid with Bjorn," He lied.

"Catherine," Ubbe said. "Is that her name?"

"No, her name is Ólaug," Ivar interrupted before Hvitserk could speak. "Isn't it, Bride of Christ?"

You refused to rise to his idle taunts. You were as still as the Saxon statue, and your eyes never left Hvitserk's back. 

"I don't know if it's really her name, but it's as she told me. Now what do you want, Ivar?"

"We are leading this army together, yes?" Though it didn't sound as if he meant that. "The Saxons prepare to attack at dawn, and we need you before going over our plan of countermeasures."

"Right," Hvitserk mumbled, turning back to the nun while nearly knocking you back because of how close you stood beside him. "Audhild will be expecting your return. You should go."

Your eyes grew wide with gratitude and you gave a curt nod. You made certain to keep an arm's breadth away from Ivar as you passed, taking the route around Ubbe instead. Ivar watched you leave over his shoulder, his face filling with scorn as his attention snapped back to Hvitserk. 

"What happened to her face?"

"She's a thrall, Ivar. When they disobey, they are punished." His blunt remark had the desired response, as he noticed Ivar's jaw stiffen and grind back and forth. "Forget that for a moment, I think we have a worse problem. There's a spy in our camp working against you little brother."

"What are you talking about?" Ivar sneered, adjusting his stance as his crutch struck the ground.

"I know why she tried to end her life. Another slave told her about what you did to that priest. She didn't let on about it, but I think it was implied to her that she would suffer the same fate, or worse by your hand."

"But I would not have done anything to her," Ivar tried to defend, his face falling into guilt.

"It's not like she would know that, though," said Ubbe. "She's a nun, and sees us as little more than rapists and murderers."

"I was kind to her," Ivar huffed, struggling away from them towards the same flower bush the nun had been eyeing. He pulled on a branch, bringing the blooms close enough to smell.

Hvitserk shared a discreet look with Ubbe, communicating the shared thought of Ivar's favor for his former thrall. "Whoever spoke to her probably knew that, and was trying to get her away from you."

"They probably wanted to catch you alone," Ubbe added. "Your life could be in danger."

Ivar scoffed, releasing the branch back with a snap. He pivoted towards them, his movements were aggressive. "I don't have time to worry about one spy. The Gods would never let me die without honor, alone and asleep without renown. Tomorrow we fight the Saxons, and face victory."

Turning back towards the archway of the garden, he began down the same path the nun had departed prior. His stance was rigid, and his grip tight on the crutches. Hvitserk still held his breath on habit, afraid to watch Ivar stumble knowing that he couldn't offer to help him back up.

"Where are you going, Ivar?" Ubbe called.

"To address the army, and I expect you both to join me," He said, never stopping on his way out to even look at them.

When they were alone, Hvitserk could feel Ubbe eyeing him before even turning his way. "What?"

Ubbe chuckled, "You told me not to get involved, yet here you are jumping in headfirst."

"I'm worried. Ivar has been distracted since giving her away to Audhild, and we need him thinking straight if we're going to beat the Saxons together."

"We should have known Ivar would fall in love with the first woman to show him kindness," said Ubbe, looking pensive at the statue that had transfixed Hvitserk earlier.

"You think he loves her?" Hvitserk exclaimed in surprise.

"Well, he's at least fond of her, but with Ivar, it's difficult to tell." Ubbe ran a hand over his face as if to wipe away the stress he was feeling. “What really happened to her face?”

“One of our men was not kind to her. Ivar still does not hold the favor of every warrior in the army, and she is at risk as a result of that. I’ll tell Audhild to keep a closer eye from here on out.”

Ubbe nodded in agreement. “We’ll continue to try when we can as well, but I don’t know what will happen once we finish here. I don’t think Ivar has plans on remaining in York much longer.”

“I know,” Hvitserk said, feeling resentment towards Ivar for all of the misery he was constantly dragging them into. Even if they were to return to Kattegat next, Hvitserk knew it would be to war with Lagertha and Bjorn. He loved Ivar and would follow him to the four corners of the world, but not at the cost of their family and their father’s legacy.

It felt like they were using you as a buffer for their little brother’s madness, but in the days that Ivar had kept you, he had been more agreeable and even happy. Hvitserk held respect for you even if he hated your Christian God, but if it was your freedom measured against the success of their army, then he would have no trouble giving you back to Ivar in chains. Peace in the time of the sons of Ragnar was more important than one nun. 

"I hope you know what you're doing, getting involved, brother," said Ubbe, disrupting his train of thought.

Hvitserk approached his older brother and gave him a clap on the shoulder. "Of course I don't, that's why I have you. Now come, let's go speak to our army before Ivar gets any more ideas about leading without us."

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[childrenofmeyneth]

Light Within Each and Every Person Ch 1

Chapter 1 of a new small fic! Check the Ao3 link to see art by @bionisinterior for it!

Meyneth’s Monado is no longer in her hands, Meyneth is pulling away from her body. Meyneth is going to die. She’s going to die and all Fiora can do is stare up and beg her not to do it.

She feels like her life is flashing before her eyes.

Meeting Shulk when they were both so young, fighting Reyn and running away when she began to lose, making the choice to get into the mobile artillery.

Attacking Metal Face (it had been Mumkhar, how had she not realized it was Mumkhar), being stabbed through and the darkness that followed, being torn to shreds by Mechon.

Waking up and unable to control her body (watching Meyneth, not knowing it was Meyneth, using her body), begging Meyneth to save Shulk and everyone else, falling so far -- down to the endless sea.

Finally waking up to see Shulk -- so relieved she was back, sitting in Linada’s medbay as she realizes her body can’t survive for long, looking up at Mechonis and feeling a connection she didn’t used to have.

Seeing Vanea and remembering her from when she first woke up unable to use her new body, seeing the fate of the Machina as Meyneth used her body, begging Egil to see he was loved.

Falling and surviving as Gadolt dies, Vanea telling her she’s sure Meyneth was happy to meet her, watching as the Monado nearly tore Shulk’s arm to shreds.

Watching Shulk resist Zanza only to be shot in the back.

“No!” The word tears from her throat as she jumps up and finds herself suspended in the air, in front of Meyneth. “I won’t let you!”

“Fiora, you’ll be killed!” Meyneth’s voice is painful. “Get back!”

Fiora doesn’t listen, she holds out her hands, ready to take the hit for her. Ready to die for the woman who gave her a second chance at life. And then her chest begins to feel warm.

There are blades in her hands now, and she has no time to wonder where they came from. She hears Meyneth fall to the ground, her Monado clattering to the ground next to her. Fiora stands her ground, deflects the attack with the blades in her hand.

“I see,” Zanza sneers as he reaches out a hand, Meyneth’s Monado quickly joining into one blade and settling there. “Troublesome, but nothing my disciples couldn’t handle. Dickson, it’s time to go.”

Without another word, Zanza was gone.

Fiora falls, suddenly feeling weak as she places the blades at her side. Meyneth catches her, holds her carefully with a frown on her face. She looks so worried as she holds tightly to the girl.

“You could have died,” she says.

“You would’ve died if I did nothing,” Fiora replies with a weak smile. “Little ol’ me or you… the answer seemed obvious.”

Meyneth says nothing then, just hugs her and sobs. Fiora returns the hug as she recovers, the Mechonis rumbling around them.

“We need to go!” Dunban yells, watching Vanea run down to where Egil lays. “The Mechonis could fall apart at any moment!”

Fiora nods and pulls away from Meyneth. “You’re right… What about Vanea and Egil, though?”

“Let me talk to them,” Meyneth says, already heading the way Vanea had gone, “we will meet up with you shortly.”

Fiora pauses for a moment, but nods. There’s no one she trusts more than Meyneth, not at this moment.

“Reyn,” Fiora turns to her friend. “Grab Shulk! Melia, Riki, you stay close to me!”

Reyn gently lifts Shulk’s motionless body into his arms. Melia and Riki are at her side in no time, and Dunban and Sharla prepare to follow just a bit behind, providing back cover. She glances back for a second, towards the bottom of Mechonis Core, and she prays those three will join them shortly.

--

“Vanea, I’m sorry…” Egil coughs, weak from the attack Zanza had struck him with. “I was so blind…”

“None of that, not right now,” Vanea shakes her head, crying into his chest. “I’m just so glad that you came to your senses… We can talk about everything else later.”

Egil frowns, heaves a heavy breath. “Vanea, I cannot go with you. There is still much that can be done.”

“No!” Vanea shakes her head. “I can’t leave you here!”

“Vanea,” Egil shakes his head. “It is too late for me.”

“No it’s not, Egil, don’t you speak like that.” Vanea’s head snaps up and she turns, seeing Lady Meyneth behind them. “There is no reason for you to stay here, we can leave. I… I can do what is needed.”

“I will not let you die…!” Egil forces himself to sit up. “Lady Meyneth--”

“I will not die, and even if I did,” Meyneth looks away for a second. “It would lead to the world we both want. A world with no need for gods.”

“Lady Meyneth…” Vanea’s lower lip trembles. “Please, no. I cannot lose either of you, I cannot…!”

“Do not worry, Vanea.” Meyneth kisses her forehead with a gentleness exclusive to a mother goddess. “We will all survive.”

Egil grunts, and Vanea watches as he stands, the chords connecting him to Yaldabaoth break and snap. He can barely stand and Vanea moves to match him, letting him lean against her. She pats his chest gently, pulling him out of Yaldabaoth.

Meyneth takes his other side, humming gently as if to calm them both. “Come on then, Fiora and the others must be waiting for us.”

--

Meyneth lets out a scream as she falls to the ground, feeling her vessel, the Mechonis, be split in two. Fiora is at her side quickly, hands on her shoulders and frown on her face.

“Are you alright?” Fiora asks, rubbing her shoulders gently.

“I’m fine, just… in pain…” Meyneth lets out a sigh. “That is… all I will be able to do, to help you.”

Fiora nods, “that’s okay. You’ve done enough.”

Fiora sighs, thinking of everything that’s been happening. From Dickson shooting Shulk to Meyneth nearly dying to these strange blades… She closes her eyes, just as yells alert her to problems on the deck of Junks.

She runs out, leaving Meyneth behind with Miqol (and Shulk and Egil, lying unconscious in Med Bay beds-- no, she can’t think about that now). There’s Dickson, and more Telethia than she thought possible.

(It reminds her of Meyneth’s memories of the attack on Agniratha she thinks with a shiver).

“Dickson!” Fiora calls out, a frown on her face. “Why are you doing this?”

“This isn’t like you,” Sharla adds. “Snap out of it, Dickson!”

“How could you do this, Dickson?!” Dunban shakes his head. “Shulk adored you, looked up to you!

“ You can quit your bellyaching! I'm in total control,” Dickson laughs. “I've always been like this! Ever since long before any of you lot were born!”

“Before we were born?!” Dunban furrows his brow, but Fiora can see where this is going.

“Now you get it! It's just like Egil said,” Fiora bites her lip as he continues. “I'm Lord Zanza's disciple. Dickson of the Trinity!”

Before much can be said, a Telethia comes down, and there’s no choice but to fight. Fiora pulls the strange blades from her side and prepares for it, Melia and Riki coming to her side.

Reyn, Dunban, and Sharla stand a bit further back, but they’re all there, too. All of them, except for Shulk. Fiora reminds herself of that when she lunges. She lets the beams of the blades tear into the Telethia and it screams out.

Melia’s summoning elementals to her, enough that Fiora feels faster than she ever has before. She runs around it, watching as Riki spits poison onto the thing. Dunban digs his own blade into its side as Reyn draws its attention and Sharla shoots it straight in the head.

It begins to use Soul Read, Melia’s told her about this. That the only way to stop it is when she’s overflowing with Ether or when Shulk is using the Monado… Shulk… She grits her teeth and lets power in her chest build.

“Let’s see how you like this,” she hisses out, knowing Final Cross does not miss. Beams of Ether attack the beast and it falls to the ground, but not for long. It seems like there’s no stopping it… No matter what they do.

Dickson jumps on the back of the Telethia, a grin on his face as he looks at the group. “Look at all of you wastes of space! None of you are that tough without Shulk, eh?”

He shoots at Fiora and Dunban, the two barely dodging out of the way. “Stupid beast and a little girl who’s only good for cheering Shulk on! You should all be grateful, really. Not everyone has a war buddy, or a man who just happens to be able to guide you through the Marsh.”

“Dickson…!” Reyn grits his teeth. “You…!”

“It’s too bad, too, that Shulk didn’t listen. I told him someone would die if he didn’t end Egil,” Dickson turns his gaze to Fiora. “Someone just had to fill his mind with ideas of peace. If you had just laid down and let him do what Lord Zanza had planned, maybe he’d take it easy on you all.”

“I’d rather die fighting you than live as a slave of Zanza!” Fiora snaps back, pointing one of her blades at him.

“Then die!” The Telethia is starting to rear up and Fiora prepares… Only for an attack to hit their enemies, making Dickson fumble. “What?! Who was that? Show yourself!”

“Melia, are you alright?” Dickson hops off of the Telethia as Kallian approaches.

Fiora notes that he seems quite strong, but kind all the same (reminds her a bit of Dunban, really). She’s never seen him before, just listened to Melia talk about him with quite the adoration. And now he’s here to save them… maybe she’ll talk about him the same way in the future because of that.

“Brother!” Melia runs up next to Fiora, hands on her arm.

“Kallian!” Reyn is quick to speak up. “Dickson! He works for the Bionis like those Bionite blokes! He shot Shulk in the back!”

Kallian’s eyes widen and he looks at the girls. “Is this true?!”

They nod, and things start to go too fast for Fiora to keep up. Kallian swears to stop Dickson, and says the Harves can stop them… And then the woman, Lorithia, reveals herself to work with Dickson and Zanza too.

The High Entia are Telethia, when the right amount of Ether is concentrated. The Havres become part of them, even. Fiora feels sick, sicker than she feels looking at other Faces. Melia screams, but she can’t make out what she’s screaming.

All she can make out is Reyn pulling her back as Kallian rams into Lorithia and they explode.

--

“Your brother seemed kind,” Vanea’s words are awkward as she sits next to Melia, who cries in the corridor as they head for Colony 6. “He loved you.”

“I wish he did not,” Melia replies. “If he did not, he would not have done that to save me.”

“Oh, Melia…” Vanea frowns and reaches out to touch her shoulder. “You should not think like that. The love of a sibling is a wonderful thing. You may not realize it, but… not having that love hurts more than anything.”

“Like you and Egil?” Melia asks, looking up at her. “When he said those things to you in Agniratha… did that hurt?”

“More than anything else I had experienced,” Vanea admits. “He… he was willing to die, back in the Core. If Lady Meyneth had not been there, he would have. If he died, it would hurt… But I could at least find peace knowing he loved me again, at the end.”

“Vanea…” Melia looks down again, eyes glued to her feet. “I am sorry, it was selfish of me to wish like that.”

“It is alright to be selfish sometimes,” Vanea replies. “It is just important to remember the love he had for you. Even if that may be hard right now.”

“You’re right,” Melia wipes tears from her eyes. “I… I did not realize my father loved me until he died. It was different with Kallian, though. I knew he loved me, from a very young age I understood he cared for me. It makes losing him… so different.”

“It will take time to register it completely, Melia,” Vanea squeezes her shoulder gently. “Allow yourself that time. Just know he died to let you live, and that you have the chance to carry on his wishes.”

Melia nods. “That is… a wonderful way to look at it. My people are bound to be displaced now, and I am to be their hope. For their sake, and for Kallian, I must be strong.”

“Even one who is the hope of their people can ask for help, though,” Vanea reminds. “Please do not hesitate, I am sure everyone would be willing to assist.”

Melia looks at Vanea, a smile finally coming to her lips. “Thank you, Vanea.”

[peppermintquartz]

I am going to put up occasional extracts of my current WIP, purely because I like to post my writing as I go, but writing an entire novel without feedback per chapter is driving me nuts.

Anyhow, here is an extract of The Kaedin Forge. There will be spoilers to my first novel, The Kaedin Secret (available HERE) in the extract.

If you wanna give me feedback or reblog please go ahead, I am putting this here for sharing.

*

*

*

They were already waiting at the broomwood table their ancestor Delos Alwyth commissioned many generations ago. The iridescent blue sea serpent made of inlaid mother-of-pearl curved sinuously down the middle, its forked tongue pointing directly at Liria’s seat.

“I see you’ve made an effort,” Lannel remarked dryly when he saw her.

Liria certainly made the effort to look the part. The Alwyth serpent brooch was pinned to the throat of her white dress. Her sleeves of silver lace enhanced the gleaming darkness of her skin, and her thick curly hair was caught in a silver net, studded with pearls. Her beloved gir-bone daggers were at her waist, the ornate sheaths glittering when she moved.

Smiling at her uncles and cousins as she took her chair, she nodded to the steward, who motioned for the servants to bring out the food. Each guest soon had a plate of light snacks and pastries before them. No wine or brandy was supplied, however; there was only caffi, and the servants kept the cups full.

"We have many matters to talk about," Liria said once she saw that everyone else had started to eat and drink. "The first matter of business is that my brother has come home, safe and sound. I'm very thankful that he is here with us."

It was obvious that no one believed her.

Evvas stood. He looked handsome and mature in a rich green tunic with gold trim, and he bowed graciously at Liria. "My sister and I have come to an agreement. I no longer want the title; I am content to remain Lord Evvas." With a glance at the duchess, he added, "At this convene of my blood kin, I formally renounce all claim. Instead, I will take care of my parents."

Liria rose to her feet and kissed him on both cheeks. "Thank you, Evvas." She clasped his hands and smiled, secretly pressing a white pill into his right palm. "Mother and Father will be happy with your company on the island, brother dear."

"May Halimgor flourish in your care, sister dear," said Evvas, his own smile not reaching his eyes.

Liria waited until Evvas sat down before she turned to face her blood kin. Each pair of eyes held a judgment. Keeping her tone even and calm, she said, "Matter number two. As you know by now, I am confirmed as Duchess of Halimgor. Father and Mother will retire to our private island, and Evvas will lead a staff to care for them."

Other than Nufal's genuine gladness and pride, the rest of her male kin did not want to meet her eyes, their usual arrogance muted with resentment. Even now, she could see Lannel's disdain in the curl of his mustache, the dismissal in Liren's subtle sneer. Sanu was drinking noisily from his cup, a rude gesture at the best of times. These other men claimed to know her and her temperament because they had seen her as a child; they had watched her play with flowers and dolls and thought her soft and kind. Only Nufal had listened to her stories when she was playing. Her father, before his stroke, had wanted her to know how to manage a land and its people, expecting to marry her off to one of Ingros' sons. He had not counted on his daughter's ambitions; after his stroke, what he intended for Liria no longer mattered. She had schemed, bribed, hurt, and killed to attain her goal.

She earned her place.

Rather odd that the uncles and cousins would be upset with her for doing what her father had done to become the duke in the first place.

Liria kept her voice light. "Those of you who previously thought that I was unsuited to the role, I forgive you. However, I do expect full support from this moment on. For thirty-two years my father captained the ship of Halimgor as head of the house. I am the captain now. If there is mutiny in the ranks, then this ship will sink." Her tone hardened. "The Alwyths have not survived three different dynasties for us to fail with me at the helm."

Sanu muttered something to his father Nuvon, and judging by the sneers, it was something derogatory. Liria briefly considered taking them to task, but moved on.

"The third matter is the issue of the fugitive, Pollastri. He was the kaedin who murdered King Eram," she said.

Nuvon rolled his eyes as he chewed on a komma roll. "I never liked the kaedine. What gives them the right to be seen as equals to us, just because of some stupid resonance nonsense?" He sniffed censoriously before burping. "And pledging allegiance to the king alone? I bet the king just wants to watch us squirm. Why shouldn't these kaedine do our bidding? Creation knows we could do with some aid. Like with the blight, creeping into my fruit orchards."

You'd like to be the one giving orders to them, wouldn't you? Liria did not acknowledge her uncle's comment. "The rest of the Pollastri’s conspirators, those that called themselves Verashki, were apprehended and executed. Unfortunately, Pollastri has more accomplices than we thought. One of them exploded himself—"

"Exploded himself?" Lannel exclaimed, his wispy beard fluttering.

Sanu shook his head. "I heard he burned off the head of the Wardenchief and stole Pollastri away."

"You were not there at the execution grounds, Sanu. I was. And yes, Uncle Lors, he did explode himself. You see, the Verashki can shape fire like the kaedine do with earth, metal, wood, and water." Liria straightened her shoulders. "Which brings me to why I have asked for you to gather today."

Liren snorted, his bushy moustache twitching. "What, not just to brag about how you're in control of all of us?"

"The new king wishes to test all the men of Aleis to see if they have similar abilities as the Verashki. He will take those who do to Izdahl and seal them."

Sanu slapped the table and grinned. "Good! That would show them!"

Next to him, Nufal rolled his eyes and wrote a few words on his writing slate, before he held it up for the rest of the table to read: ‘Including us, fishbrain’. While Sanu sputtered at the insult, Nufal signed a discreet query to Liria — will you need the rangers? — and she signed back that she could use their help.

"Is it true? I'd have thought the king would limit his search to the commonborn. It's entirely egregious to think we could be harboring such treachery," said Lors. His bulbous nose quivered with indignation. "We Alwyths have been loyal to the throne, no matter who sits on it."

"Having the ability does not mean you are a traitor, uncle, it just means you may be able to shape fire with resonance, the way the kaedine have been taught to do with other elements. You may not even know that you have resonance until you are tested. But Kirzan will have you arrested for that ability, like a common criminal. Creation knows what else he'd do. He might not kill you, but he might decide that allowing you to procreate and pass on the trait is too risky. Who's to say?"

All the men in the room shifted uneasily, glancing down at their laps, before clearing their throats and sitting straighter in their chairs.

"But we are Alwyths!" Sanu shouted indignantly and pounded the table with his good hand. "That is a preposterous idea, getting rid of us."

"Being an Alwyth means nothing to Kirzan," Evvas remarked, amused and distant. "I've met him. He cares nothing for noble blood. If he weren’t the king, he would have tried to be rid of one."

"I agree with Evvas. I’ve had the chance to get to know Kirzan quite… intimately." Liria shook her head in rueful amusement when her uncles and cousins smirked knowingly. "Yes, yes. I overestimated my charms. Honestly, his intelligence and cunning would have made him an exemplary member of our house. Since I couldn’t win him over, I returned as fast as I could, because we need to defend ourselves."

Nufal shook his head and signed a crown at Liria, punctuated with a questioning wag of his little finger. Liria replied, ‘yes, and the kaedine too.’

"For Creation's sake, I know he's mute, but you can speak aloud, can't you?" Sanu said, waggling his fingers in mockery.

"Or you can learn signing, like the rest of us," Liren said dryly, and turned to Liria. "It is foolish to defy the king. What can we do against the kaedine? They can crack the earth, bend iron gates, and bring up a forest through stone. And there are six rivers for the Aega-class kaedine to draw upon should they attack us. We cannot defend against their power."

"They require stamina and focus to work," said Liria. "We can wear them down and batter them unceasingly with sneak attacks. We have the advantage of the terrain; we know our lands better than they do. The edge of that particular sword can be blunted. Then we can send out our own to fight them. Kaedine can die by the sword, the spear, the arrow and by poison."

Lors shook his head, his plump cheeks twitching. "No. No, it is far too risky. I will not allow it."

"I am not asking for permission." She took the brooch from her dress and held it up. The sapphires of the Alwyth serpent glittered balefully. "My decision is made. We will evacuate most of Halimgor, and shelter those fleeing from the king. But we will make our strongest stand here in Port Halim. What I need from you are suggestions on how we can do so."

"That's quite enough from you, Liria," Nuvon said, exuding disapproval. "Remember that we have governed for many years, some of us since before you were even born. You forget your place."

"You forget myplace," Liria snapped back. "I am Duchess Liria of the house of Alwyth, ruler of Halimgor! You are merely a governor of a piece of my lands!"

"How dare you, you insolent wretch!"

"How dare you, you squandering whore?" she retorted. “I haven’t even got to your gambling debts and your many bastard children running about in Upper Goret!”

As Nuvon sat speechless with rage, Lors scoffed, "You're nothing but clever words and toothless bullying."

Liria allowed herself a tiny smile. "Tell me, Uncle Lors, how are Aunt Denia and the twins? Asha and Pela, I believe? Uncle Lannel, your lovely third wife Kalrissa — does she get seasick?"

One by one, the men grew tense and pale.

"I won’t prevaricate. I’m blackmailing all of you," Liria stated. " Your wives and children are under Captain Iskawa's care as we speak, though how generous she is with rations I do not know. Now, you choose. Help me defend Port Halim, or allow Kirzan to do as he will."

"I'd rather the king take over," Nuvon announced furiously. "He'd be less impertinent than you. I can always pay off Iskawa and her bilge beetles."

Evvas cleared his throat. "The food, sister."

"Oh yes, I forgot." Liria brightened. "I had extracts from a few water-blooms mixed into your food and drinks. Don't worry, I also used crushed po'a seeds to slow the onset of symptoms. Once I see that I have your full cooperation, you will have the antidote." She affected surprise. “Don’t let that affect your decision! You can still choose to help the king.”

Silence crashed into the room like a breaking wave, leaving shock and horror in its wake. Every type of water-bloom had its own special venom; there was no telling what Liria had used in her unique mix until after someone had died from it.

"You poisoned us," Sanu whispered aloud, stating the obvious.

Lors snorted, but there was a hint of new respect and admiration in his eyes as he nodded. "Not that toothless after all."

"No," said Liria, smiling sweetly. "Not at all."

[crystalrose555]

Slap me, I dare you! pt. 2

“I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna kill him nice and slow.” Marley calmly claimed as she continued to aggressively tap her foot.

“Mochi, stay still, I’m still putting pins in.” Asmo pouted in response while straightening out the cloth on Marley’s body.

Despite Asmo’s pleas, Marley continued to fume upon thinking of Lucifer and his snare. One moment she was folding laundry, the next she was standing in Asmo’s room for a fitting. Asmo hummed cheerfully as he pulled fabric and tucked in more pins. After a few moments, he finally finished as the frustrated sealskin wiggled out of the finished outfit.

“Alright, that one’s finished, time for the next one, Mochi~” Asmo chimed as he set aside the pinned-up clothing for tailoring.

The fifth born turned back to the annoyed Marley who crossed her arms in anger as her foot continued to tap rapidly against the floor. Asmodeus, taken by surprise, held his hand to his mouth to keep his fawning under control.

“What?” Marley asked in a pissed fashion.

“I didn’t realize you wear bloomers. I haven’t seen those in centuries~”

“Yeah, so what?” Marley asked as she pulled down her under blouse.

Asmo didn’t answer as he pulled Marley close into a tight embrace. Nuzzling his cheek against hers tenderly, Asmo sighed happily while Marley snorted sharply, trying to free her arms from his grasp.

“What’s with you, Asmo?!” Marley growled as her eyes squinted at the demon.

“I’m just so happy, Mochi...” Asmodeus quietly cooed.

Marley looked at the clinging demon and sighed tiredly. Instead of pushing him away, she held him close and rubbed his back gently.

“Since when did you all get so attached to me?” She asked fondly.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Levi, will you stop your pacing, you’re going to wear out the marble.” Satan scolded.

Sadly, his plea fell on deaf ears as Levi continued while swiping away on his phone. He was too enthralled with the message boards and Devilgram, looking for any instance of mentions of Marley since her arrival. She may have been brought back by Lucifer but there always was someone who knew something they shouldn’t in Devildom.

“Alright, Lucifer, she’s all ready for her first day back to RAD!” Asmo chimed while leading Marley by the hand.

Marley stood in front of the brothers with her arms crossed and a tired expression on her face. Everyone stared at her clothing which barely resembled the school uniform.

“Asmo, you were supposed to make sure her uniform blended in, not stand out.” Satan claimed with a heavy sigh.

“I know but how could I not go all out~”

“Geez, how can you mess this up? Marley isn’t your dress-up doll, Asmo.” Levi grumbled lowly.

“That’s rich coming from someone who plays with dolls.” Asmo answered flatly.

Levi gasped harshly.

“How dare you, you know that they’re figurines!”

“Naw, if they were, you shouldn’t be able to take the underwear off.” Mammon blurted off snickering.

Marley sighed as the conversation seemed to swell in volume. She took a look around for a moment before addressing the brothers with a question.

“Where’s Beel?”

“Oh, he went to RAD early with-”

Before he could finish, Mammon cut Asmo’s answer with a sharp elbow in the side. They all went silent as they stared at the annoyed woman who raised an eyebrow.

“What?” She asked sharply.

The brothers just stumbled with their words, filling the foyer with random thoughts and observations until their eldest brought attention to himself.

“Enough all of you, it doesn’t matter what she’s wearing since she’s going to RAD as a seal.” Lucifer informed as he redirected the conversation.

Marley squinted her eyes in annoyance at the eldest demon brother.

“Seriously!? What the hell?!” Marley protested harshly which caused Lucifer to shake his head.

“No arguing, this isn’t up for debate. Now change.”

“Why should I!?”

“Because your Devilgram stunt has caused an uproar and unless you want to deal with the aftermath, get changed. Now.”

“Couldn’t be that bad.” Marley mumbled while looking away.

“What was that, I couldn’t hear you.”

Marley growled underneath her breath as she pulled out her pelt from her uniform. The brothers’ eyes grew wide as they stared at the black and white sealskin she draped over her shoulders.

“Marley, wasn’t your pelt grey with rings on it?” Levi pointed out.

“It was, now it’s black and white.” Marley answered flatly with a snort.

“But how? Why?”

Marley just ignored the questioning and wrapped herself in the fur.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Mochi, stop growling, we’re in the library.” Satan whispered as he turned a page in his book.

Mochi just flopped on her side and huffed heavily. Since she arrived at RAD, she had been sliding around on her belly with a multitude of demons poking and prodding her. Normally, she wouldn’t care but it didn’t help when they started asking if she was different from the seal before. Sure her pelt was a different color but she still was herself or that’s what she would tell herself. She lifted her head, looked back at her black glossy coat, and sighed as she slid from underneath the table. Satan looked up from his book to see her shuffling toward the library’s entrance. In a smooth motion, he rose from his seat and stood in front of Mochi with a curious expression.

“Marley, where are you going?” Satan whispered to her as he crouched down to her level.

She snorted in response before patting her side in a particular rhythm that echoed along the library’s walls. Seeing other students peering from the aisles of books, Satan attempted to shush the noisy seal only for her slapping to increase in tempo. With a sigh, he motioned for her to follow him to a private study room where she could change in private.

“Alright, what’s the problem, Marley?” Satan asked as he locked the door.

“I just want to go for a walk by myself, Satan. On my own two feet instead of sliding on my belly.”

“Sorry but it’s for your good unless you want to be bombarded by demons.”

Marley snorted as she folded her arms in protest.

“Please, what’s the worst that can happen? I end up dying again?”

“...So you were dying back then.”

Marley snapped back to the blonde demon who turned his gaze away from her. She bit her bottom lip and cursed herself since she forgot that she was more or less lying about her condition. A swirl of guilt formed in the lower part of her gut as looked at Satan with remorseful eyes.

“Hey, don’t think too much about it. It’s done and over with.” She claimed jokingly as if to quell his suspicion.

“It’s not done, Marley. You left so suddenly and we didn’t get a chance to talk to you about...well...”

Marley paused for a moment and released a tired sigh before patting Satan on his arm.

“Hey, baby steps, no point in worrying about something I don’t want to talk about yet. All you need to know is that I’m alright now.” She claimed cheerfully.

Satan blinked before giving her an understanding smile. He gently placed his hand over hers and let their eyes meet.

“Thank you Marley. But you still can’t go wandering off.”

“...You’re killing me, Blondie.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luke sighed as he made his way through the hall, dodging rushing demons who carelessly lost track of the time. He wondered what was getting everyone so riled up when school started. For the past month, everyone around him has been acting weird from some Devilgram post. He searched for it but he couldn’t find any trace of it after the app crashed. After which he asked Solomon about the picture that everyone else saw but he refused to tell him regardless if Simeon was there or not. And all that Simeon told him was that Marley was alright and she was taking some time off to go back home.

“It’s not fair...” He pouted to himself.

He was the last one to know about Marley and he didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye. Shaking his head free of distracting thoughts, he hurried down the hall to meet up with Simeon for their next class. However, in his rush, he tripped over a sudden black figure which kept him hitting the hard floor. He groaned before taking a look at the seal he fell upon.

“S-Sorry!” He apologized as he pushed himself off the warm creature.

On his knees, Luke took a moment to think before addressing the seal.

“You’re Mochi, right? The same Mochi from before?” He asked hopefully.

He received his answer as Mochi picked up his fallen hat with her mouth and gave a sweet whistle at the young angel. Luke’s eyes grew wide as he found himself hugging the seal tightly in an expression of his joy.

“Mochi, it is you! You’re all better now!” He squealed as Mochi sighed and placed a flipper on the angel’s back while putting his hat back on his head.

“That’s the same seal from before. See, I told you guys!”

Luke jumped a bit as he looked up to see a trio of demons looking down at him and Mochi. He pulled himself up to his feet as Mochi sighed and snorted in response. However, the demons continued to stare at the unimpressed animal and talk as if the little angel wasn’t present.

“Look at it, it’s the same as the one that woman had on Devilgram.” One pointed out.

“Yeah, my girlfriend’s been beggin’ me for a fur-like that since Lord Diavolo posted that pic.” The second claimed as he inched closer.

“Oi, you already have a girl, so I get first dibs! I’m gonna get a lot of likes with this thing’s coat.” The third protested as he approached the unamused seal.

Luke, without thinking, stepped between Mochi and the advancing demon who towered over him.

“Buzz off, kid. You’re in the way.” The demonic student sneered.

“I’m not gonna let you take her fur! So leave her alone!” Luke yelped out while standing his ground.

“Listen, kid, it’s obvious that thing is just here as a joke since its fur is a stupid Devilgram fad.”

“If it’s so dumb, why do you want!?” Luke retorted.

“I ain’t gonna explain myself to a brat, especially an angel brat, now move!”

In a flash, the frustrated demon grabbed Luke roughly by his shirt and tossed him aside on the ground with a hard thud.

“Dude, what are you doin’? That kid’s an exchange student!”

“Shut up, he ain’t hurt, if he can’t handle getting knocked over, then he shouldn’t be messin’ with demons. So help-”

The arrogant demon didn’t finish his thought as he collapsed to the ground with a scream of agony. His friends backed away in shock as they watched Marley bite down harder on his leg which leaked crimson drops on the floor.

“Don’t just stand there! Get this fucking thing off of me!” He cried out as he kicked at her with his free leg.

However, this only made her clamp on harder, threatening to snap the bones in his calf. Cold radiated from Mochi’s mouth as she growled out cold smoke while she stared daggers at the now shaken demon. Instinctively, the demon took his shaky hand and summoned a ball of fire that hovered in his palm. The crimson color flashed in Mochi’s eyes and fiery memories struck her to her core, leading her to release him from her mouth and back away from him trembling. Seeing this, the demon chuckled as he shakily got up onto his feet, wincing as he placed weight on the injured leg.

“So the dumb animal is afraid of a little fire, huh?” He mocked as he increased the size of the blaze.

Luke stared at the panicked seal that backed away further and barked shrilly at her assailant. In a blink, he lunged and gripped the demon’s injured leg tightly causing him to scream out in pain.

“Are you trying to get burned, brat!?” The demon cried out as the blaze in his hand grew further and he threatened to stomp out the little angel.

“Don’t you think animal abuse is low, even for a demon?”

The demonic students jumped upon hearing Belphie’s calm voice as he stepped out of the shadows of the hall. They took a step backward as the weakest of the demon brothers slowly walked toward them, stepping in front of the shaken selkie. Luke took the opportunity to scamper over to Mochi as the opposing demons stared down the avatar of Sloth.

“Seriously, picking on cute little animals makes all us demons look bad. Could you try and at least show some higher standard?”

The flame-bearing demon snarled as he showed his fangs.

“Who do you think you’re talking to!? Just because you served directly underneath Lord Diavolo doesn’t make you the boss of me, Angel!”

Belphie just held his chin with a lazy smile as he ignored the insult.

“Oh right, your father’s a duke, isn’t he? That just makes it even sadder.”

The student clenched his jaw as the fireball in his hand flared and flexed in size. Luke clung tight to Mochi whose barking turned silent as she stared at the talking demons. Belphie glanced at them through the corner of his eye before returning to the furious student.

“Either way, you and your friends should probably start running now.”

“Why should we, saint?”

“Because Beel prefers a moving target when he’s mad.”

The demon blinked in confusion only to fully grasp the situation when a large firm hand gripped his shoulder, nearly crushing the bone. The sound of his friends cowering only accompanied the sound of Beel’s slurping as he bent over and devoured the fireball from the student’s hand in one gulp. Regret began to fill the demon to his core as he shakily locked eyes with the imposing sixth-born who chewed his demonic flame as if it was thick cotton candy. Belphie chuckled darkly as Beel swallowed which made the demon jump in fear.

“So how is it, Beel?” Belphie asked his twin casually.

Beel’s grip tightened as his steeled gaze never left the cowering demon’s eyes.

“Not spicy and tastes bad, just like his attitude.” He claimed coldly.

Without another word, Beelzebub suddenly snatched the demon by his collar and dragged him away while grabbing his two friends on his way down the stairs. As the sound of their pleas dulled in the distance, Belphie looked back at Luke and Mochi for a moment before turning away.

“That was tiring, I’m going to go take a nap.” He yawned as he left the twosome in the hall.

[hungrywhovianjedi]

Twin Moons

read also on my AO3 and my FF.net read the rest here prologue chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Premise of the story:  Obi-Wan never took Luke to Tatooine in fact they overshot the force forsaken dustball completely and instead Luke grew up on the planet Lothal being trained to become a Jedi like his father before him. Ezra Bridger is an orphan loner who only makes an exception to his solitude for one boy. The boy who helped him out when he was seven, and that Ezra always seems to get into trouble.

NOW FOR THE BIG REVEAL The cover of Twin Moons art is by the amazingly talented @sunflova​ 

He took it all back, when he said Luke was more like his mother he took it back, as he looked through the wreckage that was a speeder bike and tie fighter he admitted it. He raised another Anakin. Yet another Skywalker with a reckless streak that caused chaos wherever he went. This level of Reckless he hadn't seen in fifteen years!

He knew Luke was alive, despite his initial panic, he could still feel the steady if dull connection between them, and had felt the fear when Luke noticed he was starting to lose his sense of his mentor in the force.

More concerning was still the cold weight that had settled over Lothal, only that coldness made him glad Luke was not on this planet right now, a shadow had come to land on this planet, and it was better that Luke not encounter it. 

Feeling this darkness was like being pushed back in time, the worst night of his life. He was suddenly facing Anakin on Mustafar. He didn't know what brought him here, but Vader was on Lothal, and Ben was prepared for the worst. 

Although preferably he would avoid his former apprentice completely, and find a ship to follow Luke off the planet.  He knew the boy was frightened, could feel it in their bond. He sent a wordless reassurance through the force, and only hoped Luke would receive it. 

~~~~~~~

Anger burned through him, a red hot flame cutting through everything. The first thing he gets told upon landing is of incompetence. An entire shipment of arms lost to, as the reports and security footage said, two smugglers and children. He watched again the footage showed two young boys jumping a median on a stolen speeder. His eyes were drawn again to the boy driving a halo of golden hair, and a stern set to his mouth. There was something deeply familiar about the boy, but he couldn't place it. 

"Get me agent Kallus" He ordered, then after a moment of thought, "and bring me the sorry excuse of a commander that claims to be in charge of this battalion"

"Yes sir!" The trooper by the door saluted, and marched through the door. 

Stormtroopers, he sneered at the thought, he missed the Clones, he never had mishaps like this when he commanded the 501st. The Clones would have deftly handled the thieves, and he wouldn't have to get ISB involved. However the Clones were made dispensable, their advanced aging process taking its toll, and they were all but broken down shells now. They kept a few on to train legions of troopers, but otherwise they were dead or AWOL. One of these was his once Captain and Friend CT7567 Rex. He was disappointed when he heard that Rex's ship went down. 

To this day he still got the pang in his chest about the reality of that day. Ahsoka… Rex wasn't the only friend he lost then. 

"Good luck" the last words spoken between them,  he would never forget the pain of finding her saber in the wreckage of that venator, knowing that he inadvertently caused her demise. 

He clenched his fist, what was wrong with him? Why was he being haunted by the past of Anakin Skywalker after all these years, it was like something on this planet was pulling all of the things that he had buried to the surface. It all began with that presence, like a light in the darkness so much like Padmè it hurt. 

"My lord" the voice pulled the sith lord from his thoughts.

He turned to face the men who entered,  "Agent Kallus, Commander Arescko. It has been brought to my attention that the afternoon's fiasco, was in fact not the first of such disturbances to happen under your watchful eye, and yet these thieves, remain unapprehended" 

Arescko swallowed, visibly uncomfortable with facing Vader. "My Lord, these brigands knew our protocol, and were waiting in position" 

Vader folded his arms, "so it was your protocol to have a secured imperial comm unit stolen? Or was it your protocol that caused several casualties, and the loss of thousands of credits worth of stolen firepower? The fact is Commander, if you had been diligent in your duties these brigands would not have had the chance to ambush your troops. Reports across Lothal have spoken of this crew, and yet you did nothing to prepare your men for the inevitable attack"

The commander shook, trying to remain calm. He knew of Vader's reputation, and what usually happened to those who dissatisfied him. "I assure you my lord-"his words cut off sharply into choking gasps.

"I will not abide incompetence commander"

Kallus shifted uncomfortably as the commander's choked breathing faded, and Vader dropped the man to the ground. Kallus did not check if the man was still alive, he was certain that Vader would not have released him if that was the case. 

"Agent Kallus, do you know what these attacks suggest?"

"Yes My Lord. The Imperial security bureau pays attention to patterns, and this is shaping to form a spark of rebellion" he stood at attention, not wavering under the gaze of Darth Vader, "I assure you, since being deployed here, I have made preparations for the next strike these would be rebels make. I have set up a trap for them. We will crush this spark of rebellion"

"See that you do" Vader replied tersely, "and when you do, the boy on those tapes, bring him to me alive. There is something familiar about him"

Kallus saluted and walked out.

 ~~~~~~~

Space… they were in space, force knows how far away from Lothal, Luke could barely sense Ben in his mind, and it unnerved him. Ben was the constant in his life. Since as long as he remembered it was him and Ben. Going to the market, meditation training together, exploring the mountains of Lothal, training with his saber, each time Ben was there. His absence was like a cold dark spot in his mind. After watching the hyperspace jump, the man, who finally introduced himself as Kanan, had taken him to the cockpit where he met the pilot, Hera. 

He had to admit, he admired Hera's courage, facing down the Empire in an old freighter, and he was set slightly at ease when the Twilek told him they would be returning to Lothal as soon as she could calculate the next jump. 

"Let me go! You can't keep me here, take us back to Lothal!" Ezra bellowed as Zeb hauled him into the cockpit. 

Luke looked back to his friend and saw the noted relief the other boy showed. 

"Relax, that's exactly what we're doing" Hera's voice held an edge of humor.

Ezra looked panicked, "wait, now? With the Empire chasing us?"

Luke spoke up then, "it's okay Ez, she lost the fighters" he looked up at Hera, "she's an amazing pilot"

The woman seemed pleased with his praise, "like the kid said, we lost the fighters when we jumped and the ghost can scramble its signature so they can't track us when we return"

"Oh, that's pretty cool" Ezra looked stunned, but like always shook it off, and smirked, "alright, so just drop me, Luke and our blasters off outside of capital city"

The door slid open, Kanan and Sabine walking in

"They're not your blasters" Sabine stated, brushing past Ezra, shooting Luke a quick smile.

"And we're not going back to Capital City, jobs not done." Kanan finished. 

Luke bit his lip, Hera hadn't mentioned that they weren't being taken back home, "We're not?"

Hera shook her head, "we have a deadline to meet, then we'll get both of you back where you belong if that's still what you want"

Luke nodded, he really did, he missed his uncle, and he only hoped where they landed was close enough for him to reach Ben again. 

~~~~~~ 

Ezra was fuming, how dare these people refuse to bring them home! He didn't care about their job, he wanted his blasters so he could sell them on the black market and have a little cash to live off of, then there was the fact that Luke was acting weird. 

The blonde was usually so happy and talkative, he had barely said a word since they jumped onto this ship seeming almost fearful of the crew. 

Then there were these people they treated Luke like some lost little kid, and him? They treated him like a common Loth-rat he hated it. Ezra wanted to go home, wanted his best friend back, and never wanted to see this ship again!

He sat in one of the bucket seats in the cockpit, Luke in the other, legs pulled to his chest, head bowed and eyes closed. Ezra wondered if he was sleeping. 

"We're coming for a landing, you boys want to stretch your legs? We'll be here for a while" 

Ezra glanced again at Luke who hadn't even stirred, but he saw a smile on the other boy's face  that hadn't been there before. He always marveled at the way Luke could do that, just drop into total relaxation at the drop of a hat, he had seen the boy do it many times, at times it was almost like he was seeing nothing and everything at the same time. Ezra envied the ease with which Luke found peace, and sometimes wished he could be more like him. He knew he was brash and abrasive, but he couldn’t help it. Being the way he was, it was the only thing that allowed him to live on his own. It gave him the aura that kept people from messing with him. Be abrasive and they left you alone. It worked on everyone.

Everyone except Luke it seemed. 

~~~~~~

The force surrounded him, he gathered his fear and uncertainty and released it to the force. It took longer this time than usual to find his center and drop into a meditative trance, the alien sounds of the ship invading his thoughts. In the end, he latched onto the familiar. He reached out in the force and found Ezra, the other boys presence, a soothing balm. 

Luke breathed in, and out steadily, looking to lose himself in the force. Take his anger release it, his fear release it, his uncertainty release it. He took in a deep breath, and silently repeated the words Ben would tell him as the older man taught Luke to find his place in the force. 

Emotion, yet peace

He took the emotions that had been at war in him and pushed them away, they belonged to the force.

Ignorance, yet knowledge 

He released the questions that had been hounding him, force willing someday they would be answered, they also belonged to the force. 

Passion, yet serenity 

He pulled on the peace he found in the force, allowing it to swallow him whole, his passion now belonged to the force.

Chaos, yet harmony 

Chaos surrounded him, burning through Zeb and Ezra, Chopper the droid was certainly a character of chaos, but he wouldn't allow it to touch him, his chaos belonged to the force.

Death, yet the force 

Like many times he felt the caress of a woman's hand on his cheek, people didn't keep themselves in the force Ben said, but Luke knew he was wrong, in his meditation, he felt his mother, her hand on his skin, her voice in his ear. When he realized what it was, he sought also the touch of his father, but the force had stopped him, a black vortex before him, that threatened to swallow him. He turned from the vortex and released his mothers touch to the force. His life belonged to the force. 

Emotion, yet peace

Ignorance, yet knowledge 

Passion, yet serenity 

Chaos, yet harmony 

Death, yet the force 

This time like many as he moved through the force, he found a dormant tether, one that neither held taught nor hung loosely, it was formed much like his and Ben's, yet somehow deeper, he tried to follow it once when he was younger, but had only been shown a vision of a young girl looking around in a panic. He tried to speak through the tether once, like he did with Ben, only to be cut off from the bond completely with the force of a psychic scream. 

He once asked Ben, who told him it was a connection in the force that he was not yet meant to learn. Luke always wondered who the girl at the other end was, and why she never reached back, but after being cast out, he left it alone. 

Finally he reached for the bond that was always there and pulled lightly, almost crying with joy, when he was answered almost instantly. 

Luke! Where are you, what happened, are you safe?

I'm safe Ben, I'm in a ship heading back to Lothal, Ezra had a bad plan, we ended up getting chased by Stormtroopers the only way out was to jump on a ship with some smugglers, but I think they're okay…

We will talk about all of that soon, but for now I need you to promise me something Luke, stay where you are. If you are safe with these people, stay with them. Someone has come to Lothal, and it is safer for you to stay away from Capital City.

Ben, I don't understand, why wouldn't you want me to come home?

Luke. I promise, I will explain everything soon. For right now however, I need you to stay there. I will find you it is no longer safe here. 

Luke froze, and could feel a stab of ice into his heart, making him lose part of his grasp on the force. It almost felt like somehow someone was probing the bond. No not probing the bond almost consuming it a cold force that reminded him of the swirling darkness that surrounded the spot in the force his father should have been. It was terrifying he had never felt anything like it. The cold threatening to swallow him whole. It blanketed the force around them, and Luke almost pulled away, being calmed only when Ben once more spoke through their bond.

Calm down Luke, remember your training, the force will be with you, and no matter what or however far you stray I will be with you always

Ben I'm frightened 

The force has a plan for us Luke, and something tells me it doesn't end here. Remember Luke. I love you as though you are my own son, and I will see you soon, this I promise.

Luke was pulled from his meditation then, a rough hand on his shoulder

"Wake up kid, time to move, grab a crate, pull your weight" Zeb instructed, before he stomped out of the room. Luke looked outside and saw Lothal's twin moons shining through the front window of the ship.

[blushie14]

Campfire Nightmare [Skephalo]

Ayyyy did someone say angst? :D  Sooo basically, hurt and comfort fic here. It involves these two sitting by the campfire (I mean, ‘campfire’ is in the title so-) I created a parody of a ghost story so I hope you guys enjoy that. It is spooky month right now afterall. Happy spooky month. :)

It was a peaceful Friday evening tonight. ...Okay well, it WAS a peaceful evening. There was a commotion happening over at Zak and Darryl’s home. It would seem as if they were arguing again.

Unfortunately, this wasn't their usual back and forth playful banter. Oh lord no, it's even worse. Something disastrous happened here.

One of Zak's pranks went wrong. Very, very wrong. Zak was trying really hard to explain himself, but Darryl wasn’t having any of it. 

"I said I was sorry!" Zak exclaimed. He isn't mad at Darryl. Far from it, but he was getting a little scared of how mad Darryl was getting at him. 

"Sorry!?" Darryl shouted. "Zak! The kitchen is an absolute mess! Why is there so much Kool-Aid powder on the floor!? And how are there pieces of bread stuck on the ceiling!? I literally just finished cleaning the house!" 

Zak winced and stayed silent for a bit. This wasn't the first prank that Zak did on him ever since they moved in together. There were many pranks before this. He does like to cause some mischief after all, especially if it involved Darryl. 

You’d think this would be unbearable to Darryl, but surprisingly, Zak's pranks usually don't bother him. Usually, Zak's pranks were harmless enough and he would always make sure that Darryl was okay in the end. Heck, Darryl would sometimes try to prank him back.

It was all fun and games until it was taken too far. Of course, it wasn’t Zak’s intention for it to go this way. It was just really bad luck. It was also pretty unlucky for this to happen to Darryl who was already in a horrible mood to begin with. 

"H-Hey-" Zak tried to calm him down. "Look, I'm actually really really sorry. I messed up, but I'll clean up everything. You know I always fix everything after I mess around!"

“Unbelievable!” Darryl let out a noise of frustration. He has had it with Zak's shenanigans. All the other things he tolerated, but this was just absolutely ridiculous. 

"Darryl please! I'm sorry! What else do you want me to do or say?!" 

"Maybe you can not be such an idiot once in a while?!" Darryl angrily spat out. "I swear, am I just someone who you like to mess with all the time?! Is that all I am to you?! This is what I have to put up with all the time?!" 

"Wh-.. I-…" Zak was speechless for a moment, feeling crushed. Does Darryl really think he means so little to him? And does he really annoy him that much? It was like a slap to the face.

Wait a minute.

“This is what I have to put up with all the time?”

That struck a nerve. Zak suddenly got angry and shouted back. “This is what I- What the fuck is THAT supposed to mean?!”

“You know EXACTLY what I mean when I say that! And don’t raise your voice at me!” 

This argument took a turn for the worse as things started getting ugly. It went on and on for a few minutes until Darryl was the one to end it all. 

“Okay. Stop it. I don’t want to hear it anymore.” Darryl said with a stern tone. Zak stayed silent with a slight frown in his face as Darryl continued to speak. 

"We are supposed to go camping tomorrow morning, but if you're going to keep being this way, then I don't want to talk to you."

Zak opened his mouth and tried to say something but closed it. He crossed his arms and looked down on the floor with a heartbroken look on his face. He has never seen or heard Darryl act so cold before.

Darryl didn't dare look at Zak. He knows if he took one look at Zak's sorry face, he'd probably feel bad. Not this time though. He refused to feel sorry for him. 

"I-I'll clean it all up." Zak broke the silence, mumbling probably the 20th apology for tonight. "I'm sorry..."

Darryl stayed quiet while carefully walking over the broken pile of plates and a broken picture frame. "Goodnight, Zak." He said with bitterness in his voice. 

As Darryl closed the door, Zak looked around the kitchen taking it all in. He looked at the clock. 9:00pm… This was going to take forever. He should probably start with fixing the sink.

He looked at Darryl's door, fighting back tears and holding himself back from going inside. Darryl needs some time alone right now.

He messed up.. he messed up so badly..

Darryl was laying on his bed, trying to calm himself down. A part of him did feel like he went too far, but he doesn't care right now. 

He was so tired. He was so fed up with his tomfoolery.

Moments like these just make him not want to see his face ever again. He was that frustrated. He lays there alone with his thoughts until he slowly, finally drifts to sleep. 

-

The both of them were at the campsite that Zak has talked about. It looked like Zak was excited to be here. He has talked to him about how his family took him and his sister here many times as a child.

Darryl was a little surprised how experienced Zak was. It was like he knew this place like the back of this hand as it seemed like they explored every part of the forest preserve.

The camp was set up surprisingly fast. It was pretty nice spending time just hiking through the forest. It felt like time passed by too quickly when they both realized it was already starting to get dark.

They headed back to the campsite. Darryl noticed that Zak already set up the campfire, along with a water bucket to put it out later. 

Time went by, and it was now completely dark. Darryl was busy roasting marshmallows by the fire before he noticed Zak grinning across from him.

"Hey, do you wanna hear something scary?" He eagerly asked him.

Darryl frowned a little. "No ghost stories around the campfire Zak."

"Aww come on!" Zak whined. "Please? My dad told me this story before when I was young. It was really good!" 

"So does that mean it isn't that scary?" Darryl hoped.

"Huh? Oh, no." Zak laughed a little. "That dumb story terrified me back then." 

"Oh my goodness." Darryl let out a groan, feeling like he was going to regret this. "Okay, just make it quick." 

Zak beamed. He grabbed a flashlight, turned it on, and held it below his face to get into the mood.

Darry felt himself shiver. He swore the world around him became so dark that the only things he saw were the campfire, and Zak as he had a frightening smile before beginning the story.

"Once upon a time, there was a young lady who lived in the forest. She fell in love with a young man, who she thought was really cute and sweet. But it had always seemed that the man wasn't aware of her feelings, until that fateful day..." 

"To her surprise, he suddenly asked her to meet him by the river which was a part of the forest. He told her to come alone, wanting to tell her something important. She was so excited, daydreaming and hoping that it was a love confession." 

Darryl hugged himself a little, knowing that things weren't going to end well. 

"She showed up early, eagerly waiting for him to come. She stood there, waiting for hours… until he finally showed up. She smiled wide, so happy to see him. But her smile slowly turned to a look of confusion."

"He brought his friends over...why? She thought they were meeting up alone. But before she could ask, all of them suddenly started to laugh."

"'Wow! I can't believe she's still here! How pathetic!' One of his friends sneered."

"Her face fell. How could they do this to her? She broke into tears when she heard her crush speak up."

"'Yeah! I can't believe she thought that I would ever date her!' His friends cruelly laughed harder as the man she thought she loved walked up to her."

"She slowly stepped backwards as her tears blinded her. He pushed her, making her fall into the river. Everyone ran off afterwards, not knowing the full consequence of what they've done.. None of them knew that the woman couldn't swim."

"None of them knew that he murdered her." 

Darryl was mortified as he clearly envisioned the scenario. He was too focused on Zak's story that he forgot about the marshmallows he finished roasting.

"Years passed, and the same guy and his friends have forgotten all about her. They went on a camping trip.. just like us.. to the same forest he drowned her in." 

"Things were fine until he noticed that his friends started disappearing.. one.. by.. one. At first, he assumed that his friends just decided to ditch him, but then he felt that something was wrong. He can't find any of them now." 

"It was getting darker as he was still looking for his friends, until he suddenly found something peculiar. Something.. or someone was emitting a bright glow into the river."

"Like a moth being drawn to a flame, he couldn't help but be memorized by it.. He went closer and closer until suddenly, BAM!" 

Darryl flinched a little by Zak's sudden loud noise. 

"A pair of arms suddenly pulled him into the river! The man couldn't do anything to escape before it happened, it was already too late." 

"Whatever that was, grabbed him by the neck. It tightly and painfully dug its nails deep into his neck. The man failed around in fright. As he opened his eyes, he suddenly realized a familiar looking face."

"That glowing figure, had that woman's face. That woman he pushed in long, long ago. She had tears streaming down her face… and she looked angry." 

"Showing absolutely no mercy to him, she kept him underwater. And he slowly suffered a long and painful death… Some say that her angry spirit still seeks for prey up north where the river resides in this forest." 

"Wait, what?!" Darryl exclaimed. "Are you saying that the forest she died in, is in this forest we are in right now?!" 

He heard a dark chuckle from Zak, something Darryl has never even heard from him. "Maybe. Coincidently, dead bodies have been found by that river a few times over the years. They all died from drowning. They were all men too."

"Oh my goodness then why did you take us here?!" Darryl frantically said, getting more scared then he already was. 

Zak turned off the flashlight and chuckled to lighten things up. "Dude, don't tell me you actually believe in this."

"It doesn't matter if I do or don't, Zak! Any sane person would stay away from places that have dead bodies lying around! What if we get hurt or worse?!"

Zak only chuckled more. "Calm down dude, there isn't anything that's gonna- OH MY GOD WHAT IS THAT BEHIND YOU!?" He suddenly shrieked out.

Darryl screamed and jumped from where he’s sitting, accidentally kicking the water bucket over which put out the fire. He looked behind him and saw… nothing.

As soon as he heard Zak's laughter, his fear turned into frustration. "Skeppy that was not funny!" Darryl shouted. 

Zak was still giggly as he calmed down a bit. "I'm sorry.. oh my god. You have to admit that was good!"

"No it wasn't! You scared me! I thought we were in danger!!"

"That story is made up!" Zak cleared his throat, completely calm now. "There's no freaky woman that died in the river, you have nothing to worry about!"

"Are you serious?!" Darryl groaned. "You made me jump and put out the fire, you jerk!" 

"Don't worry! I'll just get some more wood to burn and another bucket of water. We're fine!"

Darryl only sighed in response, glaring at him. They sat in silence for a moment. Zak slightly frowned, but then smiled apologetically. 

"I’m sorry.. I'll be right back." Zak said softly before taking his flashlight and leaving. 

Darryl wasn't even sure if he wanted to stay up anymore. He just feels like going inside the tent right now. Sitting in silence for what seemed like a few minutes, he suddenly heard a blood curdling scream. 

He quickly stood up. That sounded like Zak screaming. "Zak? ..Zak y-you better not be messing with me.. I swear-" 

"DARRYL HELP! SOMEONE HEL-" A big splash was heard in the distance. 

"Zak?!" Darryl grabbed his backpack and immediately started running. "ZAK?!"

He ran deeper into the forest with no flashlight, running as fast as he could. Panic taking over, he cannot recall where to find the river. He was desperately trying to hear where Zak’s screams were coming from.

"Crud, crud crud. Crud!" Darryl swears that this forest has become even harder to navigate through. Even though he was running as fast as he could, he felt like he was going nowhere.

He heard Zak's desperate cries for help coming from a separate path before hearing complete silence. Darryl tripped and fell before quickly getting up and running another direction.

"ZAK?! WHERE ARE YOU?! CAN YOU HEAR ME!? ZAK!" He didn't hear anything else before he finally stumbled upon the river. He saw the bucket that Zak took, laying on the ground.

But no Zak.

Darryl was panting, frantically looking around. That's when he saw it… No way. This wasn't possible... This wasn't real.

Something was glowing in the water. And it was exactly like he imagined it. It was the same thing in Zak’s story.

Darryl almost ran in the opposite direction, fearing for his life before he saw something else in the water. He saw him. She had Zak captive underwater.

SHE HAD ZAK. 

Having another rush of adrenaline, he grabbed a pocket knife in his bag, and jumped into the water, screaming out in both fear and rage.

"LET HIM GO!"

The spirit was confused to see another person jump in before shrieking in pain as Darryl managed to stab her arm.

 It was like a game of tug of war between the two. But because Darryl was being relentless, she eventually backed off, letting go of Zak. 

Darryl wrapped his arms around Zak and swam upwards to the shore. Once they were out of the water, he slowly dropped Zak and kneeled on the ground, shaking and gasping for breath. 

While he wasn’t looking, the spirit came up from the surface, going towards the both of them.

Before she could drag Zak's body into the water again, Darryl noticed her and quickly dragged him far away from the water. 

Even though he was absolutely horrified, he held the pocket knife in his hand as a threat. She stared at him angrily as he carried Zak's limp body away. 

When he was sure that he got out of her sight, he gently placed Zak on the ground, catching his breath once again. 

“Zak? ..Are you okay? ..Can you answer me?” He looked at him. Zak wasn’t moving an inch. Darryl immediately feared the worse.

He held him in his arms, shaking him a little. “Zak? ...H-Hey, please wake up.. geppy?” 

He couldn’t hear him breathing. 

His hand trembled as he checked for a pulse. 

...Nothing. 

Tears started falling from his face. “No.. nonononono. Zak, don’t do this. Don’t do this to me. D-Don’t leave me like this.” 

Darryl tried to perform CPR in a desperate attempt to revive him. It wasn’t working. He knows that it wasn’t working. But he was still doing it, refusing to give up on him so easily.

“Zak?!” More tears started falling out as he stared at his body in disbelief. “You.. You muffin head!” Darryl started to shout.

“If you don’t wake up right now, I’m never going to forgive you! You hear me?! I-I’ll never forgive you!”

His voice started to crack as he trembled even more, attempting to do CPR once again. Tear droplets hitting Zak’s face.

“I’m never going to forgive myself if you died because of me, Zak! Please! Say something! Please tell me that you’re faking it! Please tell me this is a horrible troll! P-Please!”

Unforgivable cold dead silence.

“No.. no..” He broke down and hugged Zak tightly as if his life depended on it, choking out sobs. How could he let this happen? 

Even with his blurry vision, he thought he saw something glowing from the corner from his eye. Did the spirit manage to follow him? Darryl doesn't know, but he doesn’t care.

“I’m sorry.. I’m so so sorry.. Z-Zak..” He barely whispered out. 

He wanted him back. He wanted to see his muffin full of life again. 

-

Darryl jolted awake, sitting upwards from his bed. He was breathing heavily, wiping the tears that were falling from his eyes. What a horrible nightmare...

He curled up, shaking.. taking a moment to process that it was only a dream. A terrible dream that felt way too real at first. He took out his phone to look at the time. It was 1:00am. He wasn’t going to go back to sleep at this rate.

He got out of bed and walked out of his bedroom. The moment he stepped out, he was surprised to see the kitchen, remembering that it was a total wreck before. But now it was as if nothing happened at all. In fact, it looked better than before.

The kitchen table caught his eye since there were flowers in a vase that wasn’t there before. He walked up to take a closer look at it and found out there was a note in front of the vase. Curious, he picked it up and read it.

“Hey! Good morning Darry! Hope you’re feeling a little better after last night. I’m still really sorry about that. It’s not much, but I hope these flowers cheer you up a little bit. I also bought a new picture frame in order to replace the broken one. When I wake up, you can tell me if you still want to go camping together.” 

Darryl’s eyes trailed off to the side. He didn’t even notice the picture frame near the flowers. He picked the picture frame up. The picture… The picture was the both of them smiling happily into the camera. It was taken on the day they first saw each other in person. He looked back at the note.

“I’m sorry that you have to put up with me sometimes. -Zak <3”

Darryl felt even worse as he started to feel an awful amount of guilt. Tears were welling up again. He looked across the hallway and laid his eyes on Zak’s room.

Zak was laying on his bed, half asleep. He was exhausted, taking over three hours to clean up his mess and set up the few new things for Darryl. He was just about to fall asleep until he heard his door open. 

He turned to his side, slowly opening his eyes. “Darryl?..” Zak looked at him warily until he sat up in both confusion and concern when he noticed that Darryl was crying. “Are you.. okay?”

Darryl still wasn't over the nightmare that he had. Even though it didn’t happen and he already knew Zak was fine, he was so relieved to see his face. He wrapped his arms around him tightly, sobbing quietly.

Zak didn’t know what to say at first. He didn’t know why or how Darryl was this emotional. As he hugged him back, he felt Darryl squishing him even tighter. “D-Darry? What’s going on? ..Can’t breathe.”

“I’m sorry.” Darryl quietly said, loosening his grip on him. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m-”

“Woah woah, Jesus Christ dude.” Zak let go of Darryl to look at his face that was covered in tears and frowned. “What the heck happened? Why are you crying? Sorry for what?”

“For being a dumb.. muffin head..” He wiped his eyes. “I-Idiot.. I’m.. I didn’t mean it. I-I didn’t mean any of it. I’m sorry..” He whined.

Darryl hugged him again, hiding his face against his chest. Zak looked down on him with a soft sad look on his face. He was still mumbling “I’m sorry” over and over again. 

Zak wrapped his arms around him, ruffling Darryl's hair a little. "Darryl, it's fine. I'm okay." 

"No, it's not fine!" Darryl cried out. "If I wasn't being such an i-idiot, I would've helped you clean instead of ignoring you like a jerk... 'Putting up with you all the time.' ..W-Why did I say that?!" 

Zak felt himself tear up a little. Because yes, that did hurt a little bit hearing that from him, but he wasn't expecting Darryl to be this distraught about it. Zak already knows that he didn't fully mean it.

"Aww Darry.." Zak rubbed his own eyes before hugging Darryl a little tighter, speaking softly. "Aren't you being a little harsh on yourself? This is all you're upset about? I'm not even mad about it anymore." 

"I-I'm sorry.." Darryl sniffled. "This might sound silly but.. I also had a really bad nightmare a-and," he started to tremble again. "I really thought I lost you." 

Even though Zak didn’t fully understand, he continued to reassure him. "It's alright Darryl.. I'm here if you want to talk about it. I'm here for you.." 

Zak still had both arms wrapped around him, lightly resting on his head. Darryl silently sat still, calming down to the sound of his slow breathing. After a few minutes, he opened up about his bad dream. 

He recalled how they were both camping in the woods. He remembered the ghost story and how it ended up being "real." And worst of all, how Zak.. slipped away from him.

Zak stayed silent and listened to every word. He would hug Darryl tighter if he was starting to get emotional again at some parts. Once he was done, Zak gently cupped his face as he looked him straight in the eyes.

"You don't ever have to worry about losing me. Okay?" 

Darry felt more tears falling as he held back a smile. "You muffin head. Are you trying to make me cry more?" 

Zak slowly started to smile, still having a hold on Darryl’s face as he gently pinched his cheeks. "Besides, even if you try to push me away, I'm not going anywhere.." 

He pulled himself closer to Darryl to make their noses touch. "..whether you like it, or not." Zak grinned.

Darryl smiled as he wiped his face one last time. A light chuckle came from him. "You know what? ..I think I won't mind if I'm stuck with you." 

"Good!" Zak let out a short laugh before hugging him again, peppering one side of his face with small kisses. 

Darryl was caught off guard until he felt himself melt. The sudden affection from Zak wasn't expected and as a result, it made him giggly. He slightly tried to squirm away from him, but he was trapped in Zak's arms. 

Zak felt his own heart melting as he heard just pure adorableness. He'd prefer Darryl's giggles over Darryl's crying any day. 

"I'm afraid you're stuck with me, Darry.." Zak giggled, continuing his kissing attack. Darryl squirmed even more, but to no avail. He was stuck as a giggling mess.

"Okay, okahahay! I gehehet it!" He gave up squirming in favor of trying to cover his flustered face from Zak. 

Zak slowly came to a stop and smiled. "Happy now?" 

Darryl was still giggling, but he nodded yes. 

Zak let out a hum of content and took hold of Darryl's hands. "You know, you really didn't have to apologize to me. I did basically destroy the kitchen."

"I know but I felt so bad.." Darryl whined a little. "I was being mean.." 

"Oh my god." Zak laughed. "Okay, then we're both idiots. There." The both of them giggled at this, happy that the atmosphere became light-hearted. 

"I'll take it easy with the pranks, Darryl." He gently squeezed his hands. "I'm sorry." 

Darryl smiled and squeezed back. "I'm sorry too. I'll try to watch my temper around you." He smirked a little. "Even though you make it hard for me to not lose my marbles."

Zak laughed. "Okay, you know what? That's fair." 

Darryl sighed as he hugged Zak, cuddling beside him. He felt like staying, not wanting to leave Zak's side. Zak didn't mind, he looked at his phone checking the time.

Zak groaned a little. "I think we're going to be too tired to go camping later today." 

"Oh my goodness, that almost slipped my mind… Should we reschedule it?" 

"I think we should." Zak smiled. "I don't mind."

It was silent for a while. They were looking into each other's eyes and were completely exhausted.

"I'm so lucky I have you.." Darryl mumbled.

Zak's eyes widened and his face flushed before he burst out giggling. "You idiot.. that's my line."

Darryl giggled out tiredly in response. After a few minutes, they finally fell asleep after a long night.. hand in hand.

And the best part? No nightmares took place this time.

[End] 

[bez09]

Cerberus part four

Cerberus could hear people muttering around him, but he ignored them, he was on the trail. He laid as close to the ground as he could and sniffed, yes his mistress and the demon brothers had come this way not too long ago, as well as that annoying cat that lived down the street that does its business on his master’s property. 

“Maybe while we’re out we can bbq the thing!”  Middle smiled viciously as flames escaped his mouth. 

Left shook their now joint head “No, we can not draw attention to ourselves anymore then we have, we are to get this to the mistress and then return to our guard duty” 

Right beamed a bright happy smile “And when we give it to the mistress, she will be happy and will pat us on the head and call us a good boy. Oh! Maybe she will even give us a treat!” 

“Well I kinda hope we bump into that teacher that is giving her so much grief and is making her cry. I wouldn’t mind giving him a good hard bite on the arse!” said Middle as they continued to talk down the road towards RAD. 

“I agree with your desire but we must not interfere with the mistress’s school life here. That is for the master to handle” said Left. 

“But I don’t like seeing her cry” whined Right as he remembered how his mistress had curled up into a small ball and wept. It had taken a lot of licks and rubs to calm her down. 

“I know…”said Left with a sigh “We’re almost at the gates now, I think it best that I remain in control until we leave as not to drew suspicion” 

“Can we at least mark that lamppost before we go in? This territory hasn’t been claimed yet and we really do need to go” said Middle pointing to the post in question. 

“Can we even do that in this body?” asked Right curiously. 

“I believe so. Let's be quick and then we must find the mistress”  said Left as he reached down to his pants.

M/C had one lesson without the brothers and it was the one less in which she was seriously doing bad in. Not from the lack of trying but more because well the teacher was an asshole. The history of demon magic was a common enough subject in Devildom but since M/C was human and up until she came here didn’t believe in magic it was hard. Not to mention that demon history was four to five times longer than humans and most of the demons actually lived though their history didn’t help either. Also Professor Slabnock was just too quick, M/C could barely write down her notes before he would spin the board and start on something else. By the time the lesson had finished she was already far behind. After one lesson she asked Slabnock for some help and tried to explain her struggle only for Slabnock to sneer at her and call her a lesser race, ignorant and basically stupid. It wasn’t his fault she couldn’t keep up and maybe it was for the best that she returned to the human world before she embarrassed herself and Lord Diavolo. That had hurt! She had cried into Fluff...Cerberus’s fur for a good long while that night. She couldn’t give in and she didn’t dare ask for help from Lucifer or the others, what would they think of her? Would she disappoint them or more importantly disappoint Lord Diavolo and his program? So she sat in the classroom trying to understand what the hell the teacher was going on about and just hoped for the best. 

There was a polite knock on the door, everyone turned to see who it was, as a tall student with long black hair and glasses came in carrying a lunchbox. 

“Please excuse my interruption but is my Mistress here?” he spoke in a deep but smoothing voice when his eyes fell on her. “Ah, there you are Mistress, I found your lunchbox and thought it best to bring it to you” 

M/C felt her face glow brightly as the handsome stranger came over and knelt before her and handed over her lunchbox, that she could have sworn she packed in her bag, could it have possibly fallen out?

“Umm...thank you...thank you so much” she said softly as she took the box. 

“Mistress...have I been a good boy?” 

“Huh?” 

The classroom broke out into giggling and whispers as everyone was watching the weird but good looking student bowing before a human. 

“I didn’t know she was into that sort of thing!”

“It’s always the quiet ones”  

“Don’t tell me she has a pack with him too?”

“I thought she wasn’t allowed with anyone outside of the brothers” 

“Mistress? Have I not been good?” the male student looked at her with such a deep sadness in his ruby eyes that she couldn’t help but reach out her hand and stroke his long hair. 

“You have been a very good boy, Good Boy, thank you so much” 

Suddenly the stranger student smiled brightly and clenched his fists tightly to his chest. 

“Yeah, Mistress said I was a good boy, I got praised by Mistress!” 

M/C felt her cheeks redden and she fought down this urge to give the odd student a cuddle. 

“Alright enough of this nonsense!” snapped Slabnock as he came over to M/C desk “You have done your good deed now get back to your own class. As for you M/C it would be considered a good idea not to flaunt your packs over demons or is that how you get your kicks by treating those you have a pack with as slaves?” 

“No Professor Slabnock! You're mistaken I…” M/C tried to argue but the other student got to his feet and glared openly at the teacher. 

“So you're the a-hole that made my mistress cry” He glared baring his sharp teeth. 

 “What? How dare…” Slabnock stumbled back as the student advanced towards him, flames licking between his lips as he spoke. 

“My mistress is human and doesn’t understand our ways or our histories but is trying her hardest to understand us unlike you, you pathetic sniveling worm. How dare you show her such disrespect! My Mistress is brave and kind and I will not allow anyone to bring her to tears the way you have! So consider yourself warned!” 

The black hair student took a large breath and fired a fire ball directly at the teacher who ducked for cover as it coliaded with the blackboard and left a large hole in it and the wall behind.  He smirked happily and turned back to M/C who looked a bit startled and concerned. 

“He won’t be bothering you anymore Mistress and if he does you just tell me and I will rip the flesh off and drink the marrow from his bones!” 

“....ok…” said M/C for something to say. 

“So...er...am I?” a faint blush came over the scowling face “Am I a good boy?” 

M/C blinked for a moment as the craziness of the scene was as laughed before reaching up and stroking the long black hair. 

“You are a good boy! A great boy. Simply the best” she praised and for a moment she swore she could see a tail behind him wagging. 

“Thank you Mistress. I will return to my duties now. I will see you soon” said the student calmly as he leaned forward and licked M/C’s forehead. The rest of the class all “oohhh” and cheered as M/C turned red and watched the strange student leave as politely as he came in. 

“Hey M/C! Who was that?” asked a demoness “He was super cute!”

“You know what….I have no idea” 

I wonder how the brothers are going to react? Lol. 

[adelindschade]

Karma is a female-dog

Moroha found the dance between Setsuna and Hisui hilarious. Never one for romance, she enjoyed the awkwardness that surrounded the pair. The boy was much more in love in the half-demon than she was him. Inevitable heartbreak, Moroha predicted. She also relished in the red that overcame his face whenever she pointed it out. In front of her father, his father – anyone, really! And he’d lash out with his weapon of choice – just too slow to make a contact; she was too swift.

So, karma had to repay the favor.

One errand. That’s all. A trip from one village to the other for mere supplies. Of course, her mother insisted she wear something less conspicuous. A frivolous kimono borrowed from Sango. And no teeth. Be polite – don’t say anything smart. That part was uttered by her hypocritical father – though his intentions meant well, too concerned his daughter would be harmed by people propelled by prejudice. Not that she couldn’t hold her own…

Which is why she didn’t mind picking a fight with a demon that she came across attacking a procession of men. They were no match for the gigantic beast but she came prepared with her sword, hidden well. Not even her father spied the piece as she slipped off. Nor would he have said something because better safe than sorry. Her mother would have opted for a bow. Thankfully, she gathered that, too, having tucked it away out of her father’s sight and grabbed it as she rounded the hut.

A rebel through and through. Seventeen going onto forever. She was invincible.

Her hair was done in a much more mature fashion – much to her chagrin as she had to set aside precious seconds to tie it back. Another man had fallen from his horse; another slain. She raised her bow and shot it straight – piercing armor made of bone. The beast howled and glared down at the surprisingly small woman.

“You!” It thrashed, attempting to grab her. Her reflexes were keener than its own, evading capture with a simple jump back. She wielded her preferred weapon, a sword of strength and stealth that matched her own.

It screamed as its wrist was sliced clean up. Screw her kimono – she doubted it was the first time the fabric had been spoiled with blood. Sango would know how to clean it out. She made another slice, aiming at its neck. Blood was rampant in the air but she did her best to ignore the stench.

For a demon so large, it offered little fight. She was disappointed to see it cut down so fast. She wanted something more. With a heavy sigh, she yielded her sword and secured her bow back in place.

“Not even a bounty,” she lamented as she walked pass. A corpse or two lay in her wake; nothing could be done for them. Her father would’ve pitied them but moved on. The living would attend to the carnage. She had another mission. Her mother would have a fit if she did not come by sundown with the desired herbs.

“Miss! Miss!”

She paused mid-step, glancing back with curiosity. A man of noble tier scrambled her way, traumatized by the slaughter yet having not a scratch on his body. He must’ve been important to be protected.

“Yeah?”

“Miss! I must know your name to express my deepest gratitude!”

“Uh…” she mustered. If she said her name, it could come back to bite her. Yet, what harm could it do?

“Moroha,” she decided to oblige him.

“Lady Moroha? I am indebted to you. You have demonstrated great skill and bravery in face of true terror. As a reward for saving my life from certain death, I’d be honored if you would accept my proposal of marriage.”

“What…?” she stammered.

“I am Nobleman Akio Inoue, the youngest child and only son of Chieftain-”

“Sorry, but no,” she rudely interrupted. So much for avoiding harm. She just insulted some high-and-might-nobleman. Would her father care? No. Would he hate the idea of having to deal with the aftermath of a man’s wounded pride? Of course. But he’d rather deal with that than send his daughter off to a stranger. “My father would not accept,” she attempted to ease the brunt of the blow.

“Whom is your father?” he inquired.

“Uh…”

Myoga had called him a Lord. And her mother a Lady. But she had always known them to be called nothing more than a half-demon and a priestess. Informally, Inuyasha and Kagome. She always called them Mom and Dad. Yet, her heritage may claim more rank above the nobleman’s if she took into consideration the demon hierarchy. She wouldn’t explain such to him since she scarcely understood it herself.

“None of your concern,” she eased. “Your expression of gratitude will suffice. Carry on,” she dismissed hastily. Her steps fastened and she swiftly escaped out of ear shot, though she heard him call her out plenty in her retreat.

She nearly forgot the experience altogether, grumbling to her father about the scolding she received from her mother upon returning home later than usual and bearing blood all over the borrowed clothes. He laughed, patted her hair, granted her his usual line of “could be worse” before walking off into the village where she was certain he sought to converse with Miroku over their latest job.

Or tease Hisui over his crush on Setsuna. Inuyasha found it humorous a slayer was enamored with Sesshomaru’s offspring. ‘Kid is suicidal,’ her father would tease. Setsuna wasn’t as warm to Inuyasha as she was to Moroha – distrusting of the adult half-demon more so for his connection with her estranged father than anything else.

Talks of proposals were long forgotten until one unexpected visit from a nearby nobleman had Moroha hiding behind Kaede’s hut. Her mother was alarmed.

“I’ll be off!” she squeaked but her mother kept her cornered.

“Why are you so scared of being seen?” her mother questioned with crossed arms. “Shy is not a word I’d describe you as.”

“Uh…”

“Spit it out, Moroha!”

“I SAVED HIM FROM A DEMON AND HE PROPOSED TO ME AND I SAID NO!” Moroha breathed all at once. She was wide eyed and panicked, much like her mother who exhibited the same nervous expression.

“What?!”

“I DIDN’T TELL DAD BECAUSE DAD WOULD – WELL, YOU KNOW HIM! SO, I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING AND I THOUGHT IT WOULDN’T BE A PROBLEM BECAUSE I’D NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN BUT THAT’S NOT THE CASE!”

“Moroha, one trip by yourself and we’ve slighted a noble family! I don’t know if your father would be proud of you or furious!”

“Just hide me! I was never here!!”

“Uh, oh,” Kagome winced.

“What?” Moroha whispered.

“He’s caught the village’s attention.”

“No, no, no, no,” Moroha pleaded helplessly. She hid into her mother’s shoulder.

“I seek a fair maiden by the name of Moroha!” the man announced. “I was told she resides here!”

The demon’s ears twitched.

“Did he just…?” Setsuna asked, eyeing the stranger whose caravan arrived in their measly village.

“Fair? Is he talking about our Moroha?” Hisui chuckled. That earned a small grin from Setsuna.

“She must have hit him too hard on the head,” she replied. He laughed at her jab.

“She is cute… when she wants to be,” Shippo jabbed. “She’s a bit of a tomboy.” He spied an emerging figure from the nearby tree stepping onto the road. “Uh-oh…”

“What about her?” Inuyasha stepped forward. His voice was harsh and cautious.

“I desire to seek out her father,” he replied sternly. “I have business with him that requires immediate attention.”

“How so…” Inuyasha insisted, arms crossed and eyes set in a beady glare.

“It does not concern you, half-demon! Step aside!” the man cast with a strong arm to the left.

“It sure as hell does when it’s my daughter you’re talking about,” Inuyasha spat. His hand wavered over the sheath of his trusted sword.

“We don’t know a Moroha! He is confused!” Kagome intervened with lightning speed. She bowed incessantly. Inuyasha looked down with utter confusion.

“Priestess, you know this half-demon?”

Before Inuyasha could say anything, Kagome snuck a small glare his way. “Don’t say anything!” she hissed.

“Okay…” he grumbled.

“We know a Moroha!” Hisui spoke out. He was the recipient of icy glares from both parents and child alike. Setsuna was unmoved.

“What business do you have with her?” her cousin pitched.

“I desire to speak with her father at once!”

“He’s right here – what do you have to say? Get on with it,” Inuyasha spat, baring his teeth.

“Inuyasha…” Kagome whispered, tugging him back by his arm to no avail.

“In no way could a half-demon like you reproduce such a fine creature as she,” the nobleman sneered.

“Thanks for the compliment but get on with it before I part you head from your body, idiot,” Inuyasha snarled.

Kagome paled. Moroha shrunk in the shadows.

“Perhaps I can intermediate,” Miroku intervened. He stepped between the two. “I can attest my friend, though foul tempered, is indeed the father of the woman you inquire about.”

“I agree with Inuyasha – what business do you have with her?” Sango joined. Her hand was purposely placed on her weapon, ready to draw.

“She is my betrothed!”

“No, I’m not!” Moroha shrieked as she emerged from her hiding place. “I said no!”

“You said your father would not approve,” Akio mused.

“I said no and that he wouldn’t approve!” she raised her voice as an angry red overcame her features.

“Which I don’t!” Inuyasha joined.

“Get that through your thick skull! Move on!!” Moroha seconded.

“You are… partially demon,” Akio nodded. “That explains your strength and bravery. Nonetheless, I am indebted to you, and your heritage does not dissuade me from fulfilling my promise.”

“The hell you will! Hands off my daughter, you freak,” Inuyasha snarled, drawing his sword.

Setsuna chuckled. Hisui sputtered, doing his best to hide his amusement after a reprimanding look from his uncle, followed by his own parents who were worried by Inuyasha retaliating.

“This is one big misunderstanding,” Kagome waved off before retracting her daughter behind her.

“A priestess and a half-demon… such a peculiar union…”

“If you got something to say, pal, say it!”

“Inuyasha! Sit, boy!”

A thunderous thud followed, with her father planted on the road.

“Ow!!”

Moroha stiffened, never so happy in her life to be free of such damning beads.

“Sorry, Dad!” She squeaked.

“Why do you approve of such a match? Surely, I’d elevate her station, and bestow our children with a better quality of life,” he made the mistake of justifying. “They would exhibit a lesser degree of demonic energy as she or yourself. We could disguise that properly.”

“CHILDREN?!” Both daughter-and-father cried incredulously.

Kagome sputtered. “Excuse me, she’s seventeen!”

“He’s surely digging his own grave,” Sango sighed.

“Perhaps it’s best we let her father do the honors,” Miroku agreed. He wasn’t naïve enough to think he’d react any differently where his twins were concerned. They stepped out of the way in tandem.

“This will be a slaughter,” Setsuna theorized.

“I am not a cow to be bred!” Moroha squawked. “I’ll kill you myself!”

“No one is killing anyone!” Kagome disagreed. She breathed nervously. “I’m sorry you came all this way… but marriage is not in the future for you two,” she attempted to mediate.

“Is she already spoken for?”

“No! She’s seventeen and under my care!” Inuyasha growled with a raised fist.

“Oh, so you already prepared a match with someone of your likeness,” Akio accused with narrowed us. “I disagree – it’d be a disservice for your daughter.”

“That’s not your call to make and she isn’t marrying anyone anytime soon! Not if I have any say in it!”

“Yeah! Marriage ain’t for me, buddy!” Moroha copied.

“I wouldn’t turn it down so soon if I were you,” Hisui humored. “This could be your one and only chance.”

Moroha steered towards him with raging eyes.

“No one asked you, Hisui!”

“Butt out, you! Miroku! Manage your son!”

“Now is not the time, son,” Miroku meekly said as he approached his offspring.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Setsuna joined.

“With me…?” Hisui prompted, hopeful she was aligning herself with him.

“This one or perhaps, if he’s still enamored, the wolf boy, too,” Setsuna added.

“Enough!” Inuyasha bellowed. He nearly drew out his sword had it not been for Kagome who stepped in front of him, guarding him.

“Would you decline nobility and comfortability?” Akio asked Moroha.

“I do! I’m staying right here! Time to go! Good-bye! See you never!”

“Manners,” Kagome warned.

“Screw manners,” Inuyasha cursed.

“So be it,” Akio dejected. He pulled the reigns of the steed, prompting the horse forward. He passed by the family of three as he did.

“No offense has been taken, I assure you,” he calmly said as his eyes set upon Moroha. “I bid you good fortune, Lady Moroha, and you, too… half-demon, priestess…”

Inuyasha was tense, hands fisted, alongside his daughter who bore teeth as he passed. A real feral child – however cute she may be in her mother’s eyes. Kagome waved awkwardly.

“You missed your chance to marry rich,” Hisui teased as he joined the threesome alongside his parents.

“You handled yourself pretty well given the circumstances,” Miroku chuckled.

“Moroha…” Inuyasha warned. She felt his eyes burn into her skull. She trembled.

“Mom can explain!!” She squealed, running away.

“Not a chance! Get back here!” Inuyasha gave chase.

“I wonder what your dad would do if someone tried to ask for your hand,” Hisui joked to Setsuna.

“Kill him, no doubt,” Setsuna answered promptly.

The color on his face drained.

“Maybe we should pick our battles,” Sango warned – enjoying the terror on her boy’s face as she, too, foresaw his crush teetering on delusional.

[marauder-exe]

Crying and Cuddling- Sirius Black X Reader

Word count: 1,7k

request: Hello, can I request a Sirius Black with the prompts 10, 27 and 44. Ending in fluff, but full of angst. Thank you! 💚

prompts: 10. “I cant do this anymore”

27. “(Y/N), why does your ex have a black eye”

44. “Don't go, stay with me.”

warnings: angsty but a happy ending? Some guy being an asshole

a/n:sorry about the repost!

Sundays where usually spent with you and Sirius cuddled up on the gryffindor couch, sometimes watching James and Remus play wizard chess, or watching peter trying (and failing) to flirt with some 5th years. But today, something had been plaguing your mind. What were you and Sirius? Because you assumed you guys where unofficially official. He never dated anyone else but he had never asked you to be his girlfriend. It had been going on like this for the better part of a year. You'd met in 2nd year and yo instantly became best friends, and since then it just kinda grew. You knew he wasn't one for commitment, given his reputation, but he wasn't like that anymore. He had changed, He had changed for you. But was that enough? It always buried doubt in your head, im not his girlfriend because he doesn't want me enough. Of course that's untrue, but you couldn't help but think. You slowly looked up at him, eyes closed, a peaceful look on his face, you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, he smiles.

“what's up love?” He had that cute sleepy voice.

“what are we Sirius?” you questioned, big doe eyes looking up at him.

He didn't really have a response, he had never really thought of it, so he said the first thing that came to his mind.

“Were friends, were this” He gestured to the two of you cuddled up.

Those words lit a fire inside of you, Just friends. Honestly. You abruptly shifted off of him and sat up,

“i cant do THIS anymore Sirius”

“what do you mean doll?” You absolutely hated the fact that he couldn't catch on.

“I cant do this, be us anymore, I need more than this, I need to be yours” He just stared at you, not really having a response,

“would you want us to be us?” You question. He just blanked, he didn't really know what he wanted. That was a lie. He knew he wanted you, wholly and fully to be yours and you to be his but he had to keep you at arms length. You couldn't get hurt because of him, it would destroy him. But his silence was enough for you. You got up and turned to walk, he mumbled a small ‘wait’, his heart speaking before his mind could.

“No, Sirius, come find me once you've decided if im good enough or not” You spat. You sprung out of the common room, past the portrait hole, and began wondering around the halls, it was an hour before curfew so you wouldn't get into that much trouble. Sirius sat staring after you looking dumbfounded.

“Padfoot, mate, what the fuck was that?” James chimed in.

“i have absolutely no idea prongs” He huffed and lay his head against the arm of the chair, what was he gonna do.

It felt a though you where wondering the corridor for hours, but you needed it. Maybe you overreacted on Sirius, Maybe he did want to be with you but he hadn't figured out how to ask. No, if he really wanted to be with you, He would've come looking. You leaned against the wall in some random corridor you'd wandered off to, slowly sliding down it, putting your head in your hands. You heard quite footsteps, quickly approaching. Hoping that on the off chance Sirius had decided to come find you, you lifted your head up. Of course it wasn't him. It was some 6th year ass hat from slytherin. When he noticed you where crying, you expected him to make fun of you, but no, he just sat next to you and asked if you where okay.

“Ive seen better days I suppose” You laughed sadly.

“Well I have something that could cheer you up” He said, a glint of mischief in his eye, oh no this couldn't be good.

“and that is?” You questioned. Then within an instant he had his lips on yours. What the fuck. “woah woah Justin man what are you doing?” You pushed him off you in seconds.

“Well word got round you and Sirius are done, so ya know I figured, why not take a chance with you?” he sneered.

“what? Where did you hear that?” You where so utterly confused it had only been, what? An hour or two since your fight. Word travels fast I suppose.

“Some perky gryffindor chick said she was gonna try it on with im since you guys broke up, so I figured the same” He said cockily.

“You cant exactly break up if your not together” You mumbled.

“So what do you say doll? “You cringed at the nickname, it only felt right when Sirius said it to you. You saddened at the thought.

“ah, I appreciate the offer but no thanks” You chuckled nervously. He came closer and backed you up against the wall.

“Come on baby girl, what are you afraid of?” Ugh he practically made your skin crawl.

“i-i said no” You tried to stand your ground but it wasn't working very well.

“Aww come on” He said making a grab for your ass.

“(Y/N)?” Lily’s voice rang through the empty corridor, you rushed over to her, pushing Justin out of the way,

“Oh thank god lils” You gasped breathlessly.

“You alright? Im just on the way back to the common room from prefect rounds, You wanna walk back with me?” Oh praise the lord for Lily Evans.

“yea, yeah lets go” She mumbled a quick bye to Justin, and the rest of the walk to the common room was an uncomfortable silence.

As you where approaching the portrait hole, she spoke. “So you and Sirius are over then?” God you did not want to talk to this after what just happened, you just wanted a shower and your bed.

“please not today lils” You pleaded.

“Fine, ill leave it.” A silence. “He loves you though, you know? He just has a hard time expressing it”

“i beg to differ sometimes” You two walked through the portrait hole, still a bit shaken up from that ass hole Justin, You sat on the couch.

“You alright? What was that guy doing” And that's all it took, those few simple words and you broke down crying, practically word vomiting everything that had happened in those few minutes. You where so caught up in crying and telling lily you filed to realise Sirius was halfway down the stairs, listening intently, fisted balled up. After you and Lily finished talking, he dashed back up stairs, fists white and face, angry. He was going to get that little shit tomorrow for touching his girl. His girl.

The next morning was a bit of a haze, tears blurred your puffy eyes, from all the crying last, because of that ass hole Justin and your potential breakup with Sirius, maybe he didn't want you after all. But, of course, what you didn't see was, at that very moment, Sirius was walking over to the slytherin dungeons, about to knock the living daylights out of Justin. And trust me e did. He got a little beat up in the process but he was willing to take anything for his girl, even a cruciatus curse.

You and Lily had been sat in the great hall for breakfast for about half an hour, you where mostly just pushing your food around the plate and brooding but still. Lily piped up next to you when she heard the great hall doors open, but you didn't bother.

“(Y/N)” You turned your head to her. “ why does your ex have a black eye?” You gave her a questioning look and turned to look towards the great hall door, There you saw Sirius, eye red and bruised, walking over to the marauders who where a few seats down, giving him sympathetic smiles and smirks.

“I don't know but im about to find out” You got up and walked down to where the marauders were, grabbing Sirius by the back of his leather jacket and dragging him down the hall, hearing a chorus of whistles and ‘go Sirius's. You kept a hold of him all the way to the gryffindor common room.

“Whats with the black eye, did you get in a fight?” You asked, tenderly stroking his cheekbone.

“Its nothing honestly” He whispered. You did not believe him for a second.

“right, well if your not gonna tell me, ill leave” You turned until you heard a small ‘wait’ echoing his words from the previous days. You turned back to him. “i-i punched Justin O'Donnell for what he did to you” You where utterly astounded. You honestly didn't know what to say.

“well, I hope your proud of yourself” Why in the world did you say that. You turned to walk away.

“Dont go, stay with me” he whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek “im sorry, I forever want to be with you but I didn't know how to ask you” He stared at the ground.

“I think you just did” You smiled. He lifted his head and broke out in a wide grin.

“is that a yes?” His eyes wide and hopeful.

“ of course you idiot” You jumped and hugged him, legs wrapped round his waist. And you kissed. Just like any other day, but this was full of passion and meaning. As you guy2s broke away, you stared into each others eyes.

“fancy a cuddle?” He said with a classic smirk. You rolled your eyes.

“Always” you smiled.

As the remaining marauders (+lily) returned to the common room after the feast, they caught sight of the lovebirds, cuddled up together on the common room couch, led Zeppelin quietly playing in the background.

“Match made in heaven” Remus cited.

“Should we wake them” Lily asked to no one in particular.

James wrapped his arm around her shoulder “Nah, let em’ sleep for today” They all headed up the stairs to retrieve their books for next lesson.

Sirius whispered a quite “Thank you”.

“No problem, mate” James chuckled.

“I love you” He whispered quietly in your ear.

“AWW! Thanks babe!” James shouted.

“Not you” Sirius grumbled, hearing the rest of the marauders laugh before drifting back into peace.

[dinrenan]

Dinrenan Origin

It took me ages to finish it all together, I had to rewrite it because the file on my computer got corrupted or something! Go and restart, then it did not save. So I opted to write on my phone and send it all to my discord server where I keep all my stuff, texts included, ported it to Drive and tadah! here you have it!

WARNING! This chapter contains: Mental torture (implied), physical torture (implied), mention of torture and blood, cannibalism, child poisoning and death. And Bad english grammar in some parts.

--

Sylaise had many children, but none of them survived, no matter how hard she tried to keep them alive. Until one did, a daughter, this one survived longer than any of her children and reached the age of 6 before passing out due to poisoning, the goddess found out pretty soon who it was, Hellathren, the child's slave and keeper while the Goddess had duties to attend to. The girl died in her sleep and Sylaise was devastated, no matter how much she tried to reach for the weakening spirit still inside her body. In desperation she went to the one who could help her, Falon'din, who did not know of the girl's existence, nor did the other Evanuris, they just assumed that the last child was dead, like the others. But this one had been the child she and June always wished for, and they tried many times to make any of them live enough after their first breath, and when this one made it, it was taken from them. Falon'din agreed to help the Goddess out, but made no promises of his success; he also needed to confront Ghilan'nain and his brother, Dirthamen, if he wanted to succeed. The young Goddess accepted to help, although not knowing for what she agreed to, and gave Dirthamen the knowledge he needed. Dirthamen on his part modified that knowledge, for it had flaws, and made it perfect if applied in the right way, if not the child would turn into something like one of Ghilan'nain's new experimental creatures, a beast with horns and grey skin, good only to fight like a rabid beast and nothing else.

-

Sylaise wanted to join the other Gods in this ritual while June simply mourned the loss by locking himself in the chamber they both shared, but the woman wasn't going to give up on either her Husband or child, there was still something that could be done and when Falon'din asked for blood, she gave it. She gave the traitorous woman who poisoned her daughter to Falon'din, for she had to live till the day of the ritual, then came the blood of her High Dragon Guardian, its unhatched eggs, and a vial containing her own blood. Falon'din chose the location, an underground temple he used to his own pleasure, few loyal slaves were permitted to stay there but mostly spirits roamed its dark and dreary walls.

-

When the time came only Falon'din was in the chamber, the high dragon throat was slit open to permit the blood to flow in the little canals carved on the floor and slide in the well, previously filled by a fountain figuring an owl, that was now empty of the stone structure and the child's body lay limp on the tiles. He had fun carving his markings on Sylaise traitorous slave, the blood still pouring from them was steadily forming streams in the canals and mixing with the High Dragon's Blood, filling up the empty space at the center, reaching the corpse.

He could feel the power held in the blood, and how it sought to enter the child's body, an empty shell perfect to host it and flow again, live again, it needed a spell to adjust itself and Falon’din was working on it when something started to go wrong. The Dragon's body began to spasm violently when the child's body got fully enveloped by the blood and the beast’s heart came out from its throat like it had regurgitated it from its place. The heart was big and pulsating, Falon'din lost his focus on the well and the spell broke loose, making the God hit the nearest wall, it was a moment before it all happened. The child's body began floating in the air, at the center of the pool, the heart was shrinking and reshaping itself while where once the High Dragon's and Slave's body laid, only a pile of bones could be seen now. The eggs that were placed on a corner started to explode, masses of blood, meat and scales flew towards the heart, now shrunk to a chest sized living organ, and with a stupor the God saw as all those materials started to mold over together and create a round shape, an orb. A blinding light had him covering his eyes, his ears could hear the screams of agony coming from the girl, he didn't move an inch, fearing that the sentient being, whatever it was, would strike him. And strike him it did, a stream of blood resembling a hand reached for him while he was still blind due to the light but heard the air moving, he reacted and tried to defend himself, only to be cut in the process, that did the trick, a thick line of blood got absorbed by the shaped blood claws and it all disappeared, like a spirit who lost its interest in him.

With slow movements, he rose up, dusted his clothes and advanced toward the Well. It was now void of blood and the orb was nowhere to be seen but the child was there, sitting on the floor and fixing him down with void glassy eyes, they were violet mixed with blue gems filled with nothing but despair in them. He swore he could feel his heart feel something resembling fascination, his brother and him were always curious after all. Some sentinels felt the blast and came bursting through the door to make sure nothing was attacking their lord, when they noticed the girl they all fell silent, for they could feel their Master magic radiating from her.

"Take her, my part is done" He decided to ignore the little pang his heart did but noticed the sentinels didn't move an inch when the girl simply turned towards them, staring at them this time, and with a scoff, Falon'din used his magic to make the girl float out of her 'nest' and right in front of the sentinels, they refused still to lay a hand on the girl, his temper wasn't known to last long, especially not after something came after his blood.

"Did I stutter?" He was now getting angry, he gave a simple order, were these loyal sentinels of his gone dead? He just marched towards them, took the girl in his arms, and walked off, if they weren't going to obey simple orders, he was going to do it himself. The girl did not speak during the whole time and was focusing her eyes on him again, he had to speak with his brother and focused himself on the task of reaching Dirthamens's room before a new day started. The child was not his problem to deal with anymore, or so he thought.

-

Sylaise received the child at the doorstep of her chamber situated in one of Elgar'nan palaces, the man had some territory issues to talk about, little did she care when she saw the girl. The two guards that accompanied her were Dirthamens's and she gestured them away while letting the girl inside, but something was off, she couldn't feel the same energy as before like it was replaced by something else.

"My girl...how do you feel?" her voice was trembling, she feared the worst and when the girl turned to look at the mother, glassy eyes was all she could see, the same eyes her brothers and sisters shared when the Goddess tried to revive them, something tore inside her once again, another failure. But with grief came rage, if the girl was nothing more than a useless shell there was no space for her love, but in reaching her the Goddess got stuck to the floor and no matter how much she tried to free herself, what kept Sylaise on the spot wasn't ice, no, it was too solid and transparent, she was being held by thick crystal.

"Mother" was a feeble little word that made the Goddess stop her struggling, if the girl spoke then it wasn't too late, she could still make her regain full consciousness, the crystal cage disappeared as soon as the rage inside her did, and the girl was between her mother's arms in a moment, not that the girl seemed to care, she just stayed motionless.

"It will be alright, I will make this right"

-

But the child had to remain a secret to the other Evanuris, Ghilan’nain did not know what her knowledge was used for, Dirthamen just told her he was seeking new knowledge and the Twins had little care for the existence of the girl as far as Sylaise knew. June was happy and relieved to see his daughter breathe again and held her body gently between him and Sylaise that night, fearing she would disappear in a cloud of smoke.

The day after, all the discussions were done, Falon'din and Elgar'nan had a disagreement, Sylaise cared little, she was ready to walk in her and June's room, take the child and go home, Her husband had made a little piece of jewelry for the girl, to hide her aura and give the illusion she was indeed a grown child, not even a teen yet, but enough to be used as a maid to the Goddess, and since there seemed a fight was to come, she wanted her daughter by her side if things got to the point of fleeing.

When Falon'din’s knight died both parents were ready to leave, their presence was requested no more, June gave a little look to his daughter, only to find her walking towards the fallen elf and with a firm voice, he called her, hoping she would obey.

"Maid, you are not supposed to leave your Mistress side " with those words Sylaise turned as well and tried to not panic in front of the others.

"It seems like this one does not listen to you, what family did you say she comes from?" was Andruil sneering comment, she always hated how Sylaise went around with a noble's kid always at her side, just to feel like a mother, she told the huntress a long time ago, Andruil did not understand the other and simply scoffed at whoever child Sylaise put her claws on every decade. The girl, in the meantime, had approached the elf lying there, Elgar'nan's knight looking down at her like she was a pile of dragon dung, but little did she care, she just knelt beside the dying elf, she could feel the regret for something inside him, and his life slowly fading, the elf wasn't dead yet and so she did the only thing she remembered made her mother relax. She started to sing while cleaning his face from the blood, his eyes focused on hers and his ears focused on her voice, he suddenly wasn't scared to close his eyes anymore, and for a moment he felt peace in the arms of someone so young willing to help a dying man finding his last breath, he hoped the best for the girl and wished that her life wouldn't end in slavery. When he finally went limp, the girl smiled sadly down at the pale face in her lap.

A soft hand reached for her and in a second she was on her feet, Falon'din himself was dragging her away while the other Gods were stunned, except for Elgar'nan, who smiled coyly at the other. Mythal simply shook her head, Sylaise and June froze on the spot, the Goddess didn't dare to reach for her daughter and June knew better than to go against Falon'din, so kept both hands on his wife's shoulders, to stop her from moving if she tried.

-

When the Eluvian closed behind them the girl had no trouble adjusting her eyes to the dark corridor they arrived in but had to look down when Falon'din turned to speak with her.

"Do you have a name?" His voice was a mix between cold and veiled amusement and on her part, the girl did not know, she never had a name for all she knew, her mother and father only called her with nicknames and Hellathren called her young Master, so she simply shook her head and subtly looked up, the God was smiling. He noticed right away the glossy emptiness had left her eyes, that meant she had regained her will to live. Then came the rational thought, such being could help him, and since she was so young he could easily use her as he pleased, he needed her voice, with the future wars to come the girl would be a valid asset. He had to deal with some problems, the girl's parents for a start, but he had time.

"Then welcome home, first off, remove that thing around your neck, I will ask June to make another one and I will infuse it with my own spell...and burn those clothes, you are not going back to your lifegiver anytime soon" with that he started to walk and the girl diligently followed him, not looking at anyone, she simply stared at the head of the God, or well, at his black long hair. After a short walk, they reached a throne room full of slaves and sentinels, there were some tables as well filled with Nobles who whispered between themselves as the God walked toward his throne, the girl still in tow. When he reached the throne the girl had stopped at the steps, not sure what to do with herself, she could smell the meat on the tables and something inside her stirred, her mouth started to salivate and she gulped, fixing her eyes on the clean floor, she had to stop that urge of biting and chewing, although something disagreed inside her. Falon’din saw as to how the girl tensed at the smell in the air and made a gesture towards one of the sentinels, he ordered that one chamber was to be made for the girl as well as a cell in the dungeon, near one where enemies were left to slowly fade away, only then he spoke aloud, to let everyone in the room listen to his claim.

"Let this be a joyful moment, for a new member joins my court, my loyal friends, I present to you my future High Priestess, Dinrenan!" with a smile he gestured with one hand towards her form, and she understood that he just gave her a name. All around the nobles all started to clap loudly, it was unusual for Falon'din to have a new member joining his court, more so if said member was no more than a child in their eyes. The feast was going to be that same night, Dinrenan was escorted to her room by Falon'din himself and whispers started to spread all around, thanks to the working slaves that saw them. Could she be the Master's daughter? Was she some powerful spirit that chose to form a body? What was her purpose? She had a scary look.

-

Her life was a simple one to the eyes of the people, singing when people died during a battle, for Uthenera, for the Gods, singing for the future to come, to mourn the lost, nothing more and nothing less. What they didn't know was that Dirthamen started to train the girl, under the permission of his brother, and discovered soon after her strengths and weaknesses. Unlike her mother, she wasn't a powerful healer, but more like a crafter, like her father. She had the ability to shapeshift in every living creature as long as she saw it first, and he tested that in every way possible. He had locked her in a black cell filled with people who couldn't give him any more knowledge, and he couldn't turn them into slaves, they were no use to him until he decided to starve the girl and see how she would survive. Survive she did, when the elf chose to reopen the dungeon, five months later, all he could smell were the rotten flesh of the decaying corpses and almost dry blood, it didn't take him much to scan the room: on the far corner were all white bones, near them there seemed to be a tall crystal bowl of what he could only assume to be wastes, even although the room didn't smell like them. He saw on how there was a pile of ragged clothes forming a nest of sorts, and on top of that body parts with flesh still on them, but Dinrenan was nowhere to be seen, then his gaze checked the walls and she was there, hiding in the darker corner where the light did not arrive, she seemed to be one with the wall, he could only spot her because of her blue and violet glowing eyes roaming his form like he was her next prey. Only once she stepped towards him he noticed that she had discarded the jewelry Falon'din made June craft for her and she turned back to her true size and looks, a girl of 6 years old covered in dry blood, with nothing but rags and sharp teeth shining in the feeble light, then he noticed the crown of horns on her head.

“I see, to survive you gave in to your dragon instincts...I won’t let you go out of this place until you return to your...civilized state, I thought this could happen...but it won't be a problem, you will have to stay with me for at least another three months, do you understand me?" he wasn’t going to let a feral thing run through his temple, she would burn everything down if the chance was given to her.

The girl did understand him, but at the moment she wasn't totally sure how to react to his presence, a part of her wanted to attack him, tear his limbs apart and drink his blood to satisfy her bloodlust, the other part, the rational and weak one, wanted nothing more than to beg him to let her out, to let her wash herself of the dry blood. As if sensing her intentions Dirthamen smiled coldly at her, his yellow and purple eyes shining in the dark.

"You won't get out of here unless you turn back, young one. My brother will be pleased in knowing he just has to starve you before locking you up with those who refuse to worship him..." he saw as she nodded slowly and the horns on her head faded away. She wanted to speak, to let him know she wasn't feral at all, not yet, the last meal had enough meat on his bones to fulfill her hunger, for the moment being.

"Food" it's all that she managed to say before walking, more like stumbling, towards the black-haired man, who at the sight felt a little guilty and disgusted, that was not something he was used to, the guilt. Only when he looked away from the creature, he saw the spirits in the cell, spirits of mercy, pity, hunger, and shame, they all stayed in the near corner where he stood, with grey colors as to not be seen by him got curious.

"How long before she killed you?" He asked them but it seemed like they did not want to answer, no one spoke aloud, they only stared at the girl and refused to answer the God, which meant he wouldn't get a straight answer from them, but Dinrenan spoke before falling on her knees and arms.

"I...I sang, I sang to them, to reassure them nothing was going to happen...and some of them refused to wake up...so...I...I..." she couldn't say it, Dirthamen saw on how the girl struggled to get the words out of her mouth, he only scoffed and turned around, leaving the door open, the girl was no threat once her instincts died down and so she was free to leave, he had a guest to attend to after all, and it wouldn't be kind to let him wait. The girl did not understand, she looked at the spirits and they all walked towards her sides, patting her on the back and on her head, she gave them the mercy they requested, to listen to her voice and never wake up again. With a sniff, the girl picked up the broken necklace she destroyed in a fit of rage and walked toward her so-called freedom, as long as she behaved normally and didn't give in to her dragon instincts Dirthamen had no interest in keeping her secluded. Step after step she found herself walking in the shadows to avoid the slaves and sentinels till she reached her room, but someone was already waiting for her, one of Falon'din noble sentinels that years later would still protect her from herself and keep her memory in order to protect her until the day she was ready to face them.

His name was Dinlin.

Someone that years later she would call Pity. -----------

Took me long enough to finish this! I started with a picture and ended up with another, the end picture is somewhat decent while the first I made included more bones, blood, and all happy stuff. Had to cut some parts as well, a friend of mine that read it threw up her dinner, so I choose to cut the Slave Carving, remove the reason as to why Hellathren did what she did (It will be explained in Dirthrenan "Blood relationship" with Dinrenan), the other funny exercises Dirthamen put her through and along the way I got carried away and put Dinlin in it as well...so, for the most part, now you know who Dinrenan's parent are!