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lildevyl · 3 years ago

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DSMP FanFic Recommendations I

So, a few days @nastiiuu did a nice Recommendation of a DSMP FanFic called Evermore. So, per request, here's a list of different DSMP Recommendations that I have from my History, Mark For Later, and from my Bookmarks! Sorry, @nastiiuu that it took me a while to get this up! But I hope you all enjoy!

Stay safe and I will put the Summaries and Tigger Warnings in as well!

So, I will start off with the one the @nastiiuu recommended a few days ago!

Evermore

Summary: Prince Theseus, a child of blonde and blue, a child of isolation and a crave for touch. He's the youngest in the Royal Family, and somehow the most forgotten. The most neglected. The most alone.

Tucked away in his tower, the young prince watches the world move on without him, watches his family welcome two new princes into their arms, and yet reject him when he cries desperately from nightmares or shivers from a painful wound.

"Wilby?" The child had murmured, all curious and hesitant at once. He was tucked in his older brother's lap, watching as his other sibling sparred with their father. "We'll always be together, right? Forever and ever?"

Wilbur smiled. "Of course, Tommy. Forever and ever."

The Hanahaki rising in young Theseus' throat says otherwise.

TW: Isolation, Hanahki Disease, Angst no happy ending, Character Death, Villain!Dream, Manuplation.

The Exchange: My Life for Yours: I'm still reading this one, I'm on chapter 17 and it's ssssssssooooooooo good right now!

Summary: Tommy was a liability. Too annoying and too loud.

Techno didn't care about this child.

"Unless of course, you want call on that favor"

"Ok"

Then why he suddenly did?

TW: Villain!Dream, Canon Diverse, Kidnapping, Demons/Dreamons, Demon!Dream, Dreamon!Dream, Isolation, Manipulation, "A Deal with the Devil."

The Inevitability of Change: I just got caught up with this one and oh my Ghoul! This is intense and so good! I can't wait for the update!

Summary: Fuck it, he was allowed to do this, it would be better for everyone else anyway. They could do whatever they wanted and he wouldn’t be in their way. He wouldn’t cause problems anymore and he could have the perfect life that he had always wanted.

The egg extended a blood vine out to him. "Do we have a deal?" There was a level of smugness that Tommy recognized all too well from all his wars with Dream, it was the sound of an opponent knowing they’d won.

“We do, you dumb ugly bitch.”

Tommyinnit hated change. He'd witnessed so many people he cared about in his life change and hardly ever for the better. He just wished things could go back to the way they were when he had everything he ever wanted, a loving family who cared about him, a best friend who was always by his side. He craves this so badly that he makes a deal with the egg to get everything he's ever wanted.

or or

Tommy becomes a coraline kinnie

TW: Derealization, Unreality, Manipulation, Child Abandonment, Violence (later chapters), Explosions (later chapters).

Ties of the Puppet

Summary: Tommy hates how his mind feels trapped at that moment with Tubbo. The look in his eyes one Tommy had been forced to see far too many times. Wilbur’s eyes.

Tommy struggles with the trauma of his life and unhealthy relationships, Wilbur tries his hand at redemption, Phil and Techno learn to heal what's been lost.

TW: Mental Health Issues, Violence, Abuse, Redemption Arc for Tubbo, Healing for Tommy/Phil/Techno, some of the characters will seem a little OOC, Canon Diverse.

Forged By Truth (Or the Lack there of)

Summary: After his escape from exile failed spectacularly, Tommy only needed to be reminded that Dream saved his life a few times before it starts to sink in. Once his exile can continue again far away from any more distractions, Dream proceeds with his plan to craft the perfect weapon.

TW: Manipulation, Mention of Character Death (Character doesn't really die but the other characters don't know that), Suicidal Thoughts, Violence, Protégé AU, Tommy becomes Dream's Protégé, Angst, Whump.

Mask: I'm still working on this one but it's really, really, really good! A lot of Angst and Manipulation. So, please be careful when reading!

Summary: Dream knew Tommy was a naturally clingy child. That's why he found such satisfaction in having him exiled.

Dream didn't plan on Tommy clinging to him.

Dream was going to take advantage of the situation.

All Tommy needed was a bit of a push and then he would be completely broken.

Ready to be remodeled into the perfect weapon.

TW: Suicidal Thoughts, Attempted Suicide, Manipulation, Emotional and Mental Manipulation, Protégé AU, Broken!Tommy, Angst, Angst (possibly no happy ending but I'm not sure), Whump.

Lion's Cup, Tiger Stripes: I just finished this one and it's so good! Exile Arc but with a twist! Guest Appearances by Sad-ist, Late-August, Derivakat.

Summary: Tommy Innit knew what Dream was doing and was sure as hell not going through with it. So, by the third week of exile, as Dream starts to escalate his punishments, he leaves. One month later he runs into Purpled and hires him as a bodyguard while he travels.

Or Tommy runs away, stays in one village for a month to clear his head and decides to go travelling while dragging Purpled with him.

Or road trip pog.

TW: Angst, Angst with a happy, Found Family, Violence, Testing, Scares, Explosions (later chapters), I think that's all.

Valley of Serenity: This is a very long fic! It's about 60+ chapters so feel free to read in increments but this is a really good fic! Redemption Arc and Healing for the SBI Family!

Summary: After blowing up a nation, Wilbur throws a sword down at his father's feet and begs to be killed.

Phil, however, takes one look at the state of his children and decides he has other plans.

(post november 16th au where wilbur doesn't die. instead a family leaves the smp entirely, and learn how to live with each other again.)

"Fuck, I - I can't forgive either of you right now," Tommy says quietly. Despite the words, he hugs Wilbur tighter. "One day, though. I think one day I will."

"And we're still brothers, right?" Wilbur dares ask. Techno inhales sharply beside him.

They get a choked laugh in reply.

"Yeah. Brothers."

TW: Angst, Mention of wanting to die, Healing, a long road of healing, Mental Health Issues, Family Bonds, Angst but I think there is a happy ending, Violence, Mention of the L'Manburg exploding. Redemption Arc, Healing.

Breathing's Just A Rhythm: I finished this fic a few weeks ago and my ghoul! This is so good! Time Travel Fic with Dream, Schlatt, Tubbo, Tommy, and of course CHAT!

Summary: POGTOPIA??? WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE?? TIMETRAVELBLADE. technotravel

“Chat, I did not time travel,” Techno said exhaustedly, “I don’t know what gave you that idea, but please calm yourselves.”

The voices started obnoxiously whispering at the top of their lungs. HE DOESN’T KNOW. PANIC

Or: Tommy, Tubbo, Jschlatt, and Dream all end up in the past. (Oh, and the Chat comes too) (mcd is a villain, this fic has a happy ending)

Or OR! Dream attempts to Time Travel in the past but winds only go back a few months ago during Pogtopia Area and he winds up bring a few unexpected victors with him! MEANWHILE: Karl is trying his damnest to fix everything with Time Travel Fiasco that Dream caused! B/C the Future selves and the past selves switched!

TW: Graphic Violence, Bodily harm (later chapters), Kidnapping (later chapters), Explosions (later chapters), Betrayal (later chapters I won't say who!), Isolation, Manipulations, Mental and Emotional Abuse, Trauma, Therapy (Finally these boys gets some), Good!Schlatt, Villain!Dream, Redemption Arc Wilbur and Schlatt.

I think I got them all?

Wrong Place for Redemption: This one of the stories that helped inspired Breathing is Just a Rhythm! Time Travel Fic!

Summary: -Previously titled Time Will Decide. Name taken from lyrics in 'A Sadness Runs Through Him' by The Hosiers

“Okay, why don’t you go see him.” Tommy didn’t know what he thought the afterlife was going to be like, hell he didn’t even know if it was a real thing. Maybe he’d see Wilbur, possibly Schlatt, but he didn’t expect to see a white castle and Karl.

Or where Tommy looses his final life to Dream in the prison only to be teleported back in time.

OR where Tommy is given a second chance and isn't going to blow it, not even if things start to get revealed (things that change everything) and discoveries are made.

This whole book has TW's: Child abuse, violence/murder, gore/blood, implied/referenced suicide, suicide, drinking, etc.

Parental Rights: Another good on going fic for me! Can you tell that I love some SBI/Found Family Fics here?

Summary: Sam wants to be there for Tommy. Wants to be his dad. Wants to be the one Tommy comes to when he's in trouble or excited over something. He'd happily legally adopt Tommy, but well... Tommy's actual father is in the way of that. Sam thought with how distanced Phil was with his son it would be easy to persuade him to give his parental rights over to Sam. But well... Tommy's stubbornness had to come from somewhere, right?

TW: Sleep Walking, Mentions of Exile, Healing Arc for Tommy, Healing Arc for Sam, Healing Arc for Tubbo, SBI, Healing Arc for Techno.

Allium: This is still on going, but oh man! This is getting really good!

Summary: What if Dreams plan for the Disc War finale had worked?

Tubbo dead, Tommy in the prison, SMP under his control. Allium Ashes.

TW: Major Character Death, Ghostbo (Ghost Tubbo), Manipulation, Isolation, Imprisonment, Prisoner Innit, Making someone believe they are responsible for something they didn't do, Kidnapping, Rescue Mission.

And How Can I Compete (With The World At Your Feet): God AU and this is really Fangtastic! Rated M for Graphic Violence and Attempted Sacrifice.

Summary: Tommy has been kept away from the world and held captive for four years, and now he’s about to be used as a sacrifice to a god. A blood god, to be specific. The Blood God. But, instead of accepting his captor’s sacrifice, the Blood God is in debt to Tommy. And he’s going to save him.

A universe where Technoblade, Wilbur, and Phil are all gods who have become quite protective of a mortal fifteen year old without a home.

This concept was based on a text post I saw, I think! I can’t find it anymore, but if you see it let me know!

TW: Blood, Violence, Attempted Sacrifice, Villain!Dream, Villain!BadBoyHalo, Occult Setting, God AU, Blood God!Techno, Angel of Death!Philza, God!Wilbur, Angel!Tubbo, Angel!Ranboo.

Death's Forest: This is a nice little One-Shot for the SBI, and Dadza fans! Set during Tommy's Exile. Don't worry! Dadza to the rescue!

Summary: “Can I see him?” Phil asks, blinking owlishly, as if he’s simply just asking. As if he’s not holding a threat behind those light words.

“Don’t push your limits.” Dream responds, and Phil only smiles with a slow nod.

The next day, Dream wishes he had answered differently.

Phil isn’t quite human. He wants to visit Tommy during exile.

TW: I don't think there's any TW here, but if there is, please let me know!

Prince Theseus: Royal AU! Hybrid Tommy. Prince Tommy (Theseus).

Summary: Prince Theseus Craft of the Anartitic Empire, A child who could bring joy to anyone's day left to be forgotten by his family left to spend his days in his tower with nothing but his Maid and dear friend as company

Left to watch his older brothers laugh and smile as his father looks at them with love and the eyes of a proud parent he never saw directed to him, watch them both receive the love he craved so desperately from his father. Left him to envy his brothers yet grow jealous as that jealousy turns to a small flame of hatred growing steadily as time passes leaving him to make his final decision.

No longer will he be known as Theseus but as the Amazing Tommyinnit who could do anything who will prove his former family wrong and show he is better than what they think.

Which leads him to where he is now, a runaway prince who finds a new family brought together by hardship and their love of traveling the endless seas.

AKA :

16 yr old Prince Theseus changes his name to Tommyinnit and runs away from his royal family who neglected him and finds a real family on a ship who just so happened to be pirates as well.

TW: Isolation, Mention of a Minor Character Death, Running Away, Royal AU, Hybrid Tommy, SBI, Neglect, Pirates, Found Family, Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Magic.

Therapy Marriage: Okay, I'm adding this one for some Wholesomeness, and Fluff with some Angst but there should be a Happy Ending!

Summary: but for some reason, tubbo (and possibly ranboo, although he doubted this was his idea) had got it into his head that tommy needed therapy or some shit.

which, fine, maybe he had a little bit of an issue. he did freak out at damage, and weapons, and he had reached out to puffy, but he was okay! he didn’t need tubbo to pity him.

but- here was where the weird part came in- tubbo wanted tommy in his marriage.

TL:DR Tubbo wants to help Tommy and decides that the best method is by marrying him as well. Ranboo just goes along with it.

*****

Okay, this post has gotten very long! I do apologize for that! So, I'll add others to another Post!

#nastiiuu #fanfic recommenation #dsmp #dream smp fanfiction #dreams smp fanfic #ao3 #dsmp fanfic recommendations #long post

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stay-tinystars · 4 years ago

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Colors: Masquerade

Ship: Hyunjin x Fem reader

Non idol au, Soul Mate AU

Warnings: sarcasm, bitter feelings, tripping over things, slight hitting/slapping (nothing violent), Chan is a tease, reader is implied to be older, I think that's it.

Word count: 4.2 k

A/N: So I wanted to write something for Hyunjins birthday. I always have been intrigued by Soul mate AUs so I wrote one. I haven't seen this one done before, so I hope you all like it. I plan on doing a one shot for each SKZ member for this AU. So some skz members will feature slightly in this and future stories. The series will be called Colors.

I hope you enjoy! And Happy birthday to Hyunjin! He is amazing, talented, and just drop dead gorgeous! Happy 21st international birthday! --story published Mar 19 2021 6:00pm MDT

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

Most people couldn't wait to meet their soulmate. The one person who would change not only your life, but your eyes.

Everyone was born with two different colored eyes, they say those colors determined your childhood. Overall they generalized the colors; Blues usually meant they were inspired kids, inspiring themselves and others to do great things. Green meant they had luck on their side. Brown had resilient personalities, bringing a sense of dependability to others. Purples were very independent and creative. Grays had a sophistication that most children lacked. And so on and so forth. By the time you reached middle school everyone knew what their exact eye colors meant, and some say it predicted how you would find someone.

Eyes however didn't remain two separate colors your whole life. Once you met your soulmate they changed almost in an instant, color shifting for a few seconds until your eye color perfectly matched that of your mates. Some say time seemed to stop once they noticed their mates' eyes changing, but one thing was for sure no one felt their eyes change color, the only thing they usually felt was their heart speeding up.

You originally couldn't wait to find your soul mate. You got caught up in the feeling of it all. You believed he would be everything you wanted and more. During your teens it's all you dreamed about, how you'd meet in some perfect way, how he would sweep you off your feet. However the past few years had made you bitter, watching friend after friend find their mate leaving you in the dust.

"You'll be the same when you find your mate" they would say as you grimaced as they would kiss and cuddle in front of you. Most of those so called friends never invited you to things anymore, because you couldn't relate because you didn't have someone. They said it was because they didn't want you to feel like the third wheel, but mostly you knew it's because they pitied you for not having someone. "It's a shame you don't have anyone, I hope he's still around somewhere"

You were starting to feel like you had some sort of disease, because that's how you were treated by those 'friends'.

Things only felt worse as you stared at the flyer someone slid under your door.

-----

Hyunjin pov

"Mandatory masquerade spring formal." He read as he lifted the flyer from the pile of mail next to his door. Hyunjin hated these mandatory regional events. At least this one was just a formal instead of a full costume ball, like the last one. The large cities throw these balls, three times a year. Anyone over the age of 20, who hadn't found their soulmate was required to go. This would be his third ball, he hoped it would be his last. Sure he wanted to meet his soulmate, but mostly he wanted all the girls who came to these things to stop throwing themselves at him, staring at his eyes hoping to see a change. Most would find it flattering, in fact Hyunjin did back in high-school he always loved the attention. Curious which girl would try during lunch that day. Now it was getting old, he wanted someone who truly saw his soul, not just his good looks.

Hyunjin sighed as he looked at himself in the floor length mirror, black suit pants, navy silk long sleeve button up with the top three buttons undone. A dark night sky scene was painted on the mask that rested on his nose. His long dark hair pulled away from his face. His eyes unchanged, still two different colors. One burnt umber, the other ocean blue.

He was curious of what color his eyes would change to once he met his soulmate, he heard it depends on how and when they meet.

For instance, his dad had similar eye colors to his before he met mom. They met on a stormy day, each on their way their jobs enjoying the rain. They met while dancing out in the light spring shower while waiting at a crosswalk. Now his parents both had beautiful bright gray eyes, the same color as the storm clouds as they parted for the sun that day.

Would his eyes turn the Navy he had chosen for this dance if he met her tonight? He sighed to himself, shaking his head slightly as he grabbed his things and left his apartment.

Reader pov.

At least the food they provided at these mandatory balls was delicious, it seemed the only incentive that was worth the trouble of being here. The numerous hors d'oeuvres were delicious, and you had a plate full of all the different types to make sure they still tasted delicious.

Truthfully you hated being here. You had been to too many of these things to count. At this point you wondered if your soulmate was dead, or lost somewhere. Simply because you hadn't met him yet, and it felt as if time was ticking. Maybe that's because your friends all found their mates within the year you all turned twenty. Now here you were five years later, still with miss matched eyes. One pewter gray, one lavender.

You wore the same dress you always did to these balls. At first it made you feel amazing, like a princess. Now it only brought you bitterness. The purple satin that faded to blue, a galaxy made of glitter across the bodice. The mask on your face was silver, making your eyes seem to shine.

"You look bored" a familiar voice got your attention, as he sat at the empty table next to you. Dressed in all black as he usually was. Looking devilishly handsome as always.

"Chan, I'm always bored at these things. You're the only one who talks to me" you sighed leaning on the table as you looked towards him.

Chan was a god send at these things. He became your friend a few years ago, during one of these balls. His dimples made every girl swoon, it was the first thing you noticed about him, but what made you stay was the wonderful caring conversation that was so rare at these things. He actually wanted friends, not just a soulmate. He was truly a social butterfly.

"Maybe if you leave the table, and stop glaring at anyone who approaches, someone might talk to you." His mischievous eyes of emerald green and royal purple danced beneath his black mask, as he stole some hors d'oeuvres off your plate. Popping one into his mouth.

"Shut up Chan, not all of us are as charming as you!" you playfully hit his arm. He gasped softly and grabbed his arm in fake pain.

"I'm sure you could be somewhat charming. That is, if you took the "F off" stamp off your forehead." he teased making a face at you.

"Very funny" Rolling your eyes, looking back towards your plate of food, then towards the dance floor which was filled with eager young people, all dancing and talking. Switching partners every song or so. You watched as one couple suddenly stopped dancing, their eyes growing large. She squealed, jumping up and down as he hugged her. Another happy couple, another soulmate found.

You wanted to vomit.

"I want to know how neither of us have found our match, we've both been too far too many of these." You groaned, sliding down in your chair. Not caring how unladylike it was. You glanced towards Chan, who was just enjoying watching everyone.

"I suspect my match is elsewhere" his words wise, his eyes looking towards the newest happy couple fondly. "I think they might be at one of these in their own region"

"She probably is cursing your name right now, wondering why you are taking so long to find her." you started.

"Like you are cursing yours right now?" You wanted to smack that smirk off his face.

"Chan you can be infuriating." You stood, smoothing out your skirt. Chan chuckled following you. Knowing you wanted some fresh air.

"Maybe you don't want to crash the next regional dance with me." he nudged you as you both walked around the main crowd, towards the large outdoor balcony.

"Now that is a good idea, I didn't think you had any of those left" you looked towards him with a shocked expression. Your foot caught on something, then someone's body bumped into yours.

That's when you ended up flat on your back, your mask slightly askew.

The music seemed to stop. In fact it had. You looked at your converse clad feet which were tangled in the electrical cords from the DJ booth. Chan was laughing. The DJ scrambled from the booth to fix the electrical situation. You shifted, untangling yourself best as possible from the cords. Muttering a slight apology to the frazzled dark haired man, as he gathered the cords quickly.

"I'm so sorry!" A new voice said as he stumbled to his feet beside you. His navy shirt hanging loosely around him. "I wasn't even looking where I was going," he said, dusting himself off. Then looking at you, and offering a hand.

"It's my fault too, I wasn't looking." You said taking his hand, to help you to your feet. Then glaring at Chan who was beside himself with fits of laughter. "I was too busy chiding my friend" you gestured towards Chan, shaking your head.

"My name is Hyunjin" the handsome man smiled, his mask shimmered as the little iridescent stars caught light.

"Y/N " you said with a slight bow, fixing your mask.

"It's nice to meet you, I haven't seen you here before." he smiled, he was ridiculously attractive.

"Well she's been here, forever" Chan exaggerated as he leaned on your shoulder. You shoved him away.

"Shut up Chan."

"Well you have!" He put his hand up in mock defense.

"I'm so done with you!" You walked away, then turned to Hyunjin and gave a quick wave. He gave a small nod, as a girl approached him tapping him on the shoulder.

You took that as your queue to leave. You felt so done with everything, still hadn't felt that spark everyone gushed about. You felt slightly embarrassed about cutting the music with your own clumsy feet. You made a fool of yourself thanks to Chan, you just knew you needed out.

When you got home you were exhausted, and changed out of your gown, and quickly washed your face then just went to bed.

------

Hyunjin

Hyunjin nodded, as the strange but cute girl practically ran away. Feeling a small tap on his shoulder his attention was brought to a girl in a pink poofy ball gown. The music was starting up again, he knew she was going to ask him to dance. Why had he come in from the balcony?

"So I've been watching you all night. And…." Her eyes widened. "What color are my eyes?" She asked quickly, her words stumbling out of her mouth.

"Um.." Hyunjin cocked his brows as he looked closer, kind of confused. "Dark blue, and light green?"

Her face fell, then he saw multiple emotions flash over her face, ending in anger.

"Why are you here if you already have a soulmate? Shouldn't you be with them!" She practically yelled. Hyunjin was confused, as the girl slapped his arm and ran away. What a strange turn of events. First he ran into that girl, Y/n? Now he just got some weird girl thinking he had a soulmate, these balls got worse every time, maybe he would call it a night.

He went to the bathroom, still bewildered by the weird situation that just happened. As he took off his mask he looked in the mirror.

"What the hell?!" He yelled at his reflection, leaning on the counter, getting closer to the mirror. Both ofHis eyes a bright flaming orange. He felt as if he was looking at a campfire in his eyes. His mind started reeling. How had he met his soulmate? He had barely talked to anyone all night, he had hid on the balcony outside for the first hour of this thing, just eating the hors d'oeuvres that were provided. He then came inside to try to make the night worthwhile, and while looking at the decorated ballroom, he ran into someone, literally. That's when it clicked, the girl he literally ran into, it had to be her. She was the only one he talked to!

"Y/N, I've got to find Y/N!" He grabbed his mask and ran out of the bathroom.

Two hours of searching later, Hyunjin sat defeated at a random table. He sat his mask down and slumped in the chair, as he watched happy couples in pairs all around the room. That's what was supposed to be happening to him right now, staring into his soul mates eyes, dancing the night away without a care in the world.

Who had ever heard of a soulmate who didn't know. A soulmate who didn't say anything. These stupid masks, they cover up half your face, distorting the eyes. The dark room. How did they expect people to see the change with those factors?

He always heard that when you saw the change and knew, but he hadn't seen her eyes change, plus she ran off so quickly. Maybe he should've gone after her. No, that would've been creepy, plus he didn't know at the time.

What was he supposed to do? He wasn't even sure exactly what she looked like. That's when he saw his chance. He swears that's Y/Ns friend from earlier, in the all black and black mask talking to the DJ right now. Hyunjin quickly stood and bee lined towards the man in black.

"Excuse me, your Chan right?" Hyunjin said, approaching him.

"Yes, and you're Hyunjin?" The man smiled, as Hyunjin nodded. Chan resumed watching the people on the dance floor in front of him.

"Yeah, I, uh, ran into your friend Y/N earlier" Hyunjin rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah you did, quite literally." he chuckled, side eying and gently elbowing Hyunjin.

"Well that's the thing. I kind of need to find her."

"Did she break your phone or something?" He asked.

"No, she's kind of my soulmate." Hyunjin blurted.

"What?" Chan choked on air, as his eyes bugged out. He turned and grabbed Hyunjin's shoulders, looking him straight in the eye, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly as he saw the orange in his eyes.

"She's the first one I talked to tonight at this stupid thing. After hiding on the balcony. I didn't even know it happened til another girl started to flirt with me." Hyunjin now turned his attention to the dance floor.

"I'm sorry to tell you, but she's long gone." Hyunjin felt a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I figured, since I've been looking for her for over two hours" he heard the other male grimace on his behalf.

"So I was wondering if you could help me out. All I know about her is her first name." Hyunjin looked towards his shoes, trying to distract himself with the nice polished shine.

"Well I could help," Chan smirked and Hyunjins head snapped up looking at him, "but I'm not sure I owe Y/N the courtesy of helping her out." Chans mischievous two toned eyes shone playfully.

"I thought she was your friend" Hyunjin was slightly confused, yet again this evening.

"Oh she is, she just owes me after bailing on me tonight." He looked at his phone. "And being as I have no messages from her freaking out. I bet she didn't even notice before she went to sleep"

They exchanged information, Chan excited to be in the middle of this. Curious of how you would react in the morning. Promising Hyunjin to keep him informed.

-----

Your pov

The blaring alarm on your phone made you groan, you silenced it and rolled back over. Some days you wish you didn't have to work, but being a manager over editing on the largest magazine in the city meant you couldn't miss work. Yet you still fell back asleep.

When your alarm went off to tell you it was time to leave you woke up in a panic. You quickly showered and dressed, grabbing some breakfast then you were out the door, not even bothering with makeup as you were going to be late.

"Oh my gosh! Tell me everything!" Joy, your second in command gushed as you entered the office.

"Nothing out of the ordinary at those stupid balls. Food again was the only reason to attend" you muttered as you set your things down on your desk, and plopped in your chair.

"Obviously that's a lie! Now tell me what really happened!" Joy pestered. Her vivid seafoam green eyes, staring you down. She found her soulmate just after she started working with you, but she always wanted to gossip and talk about those meeting their matches. It intrigued her for some reason.

"I told you everything. I went ate food, watched all the stupid romantic couples, headed outside. Tripped on the cords for the DJ booth then left." You huffed, leaning back. She put her hands on your chair making you face her. You cocked your eyebrows at her.

"You don't know? How can you not know" Her words confusing, and accusing.

"Joy, what are you talking about?" You groaned. She then dug in her purse bringing out her compact.

"I know I didn't do my makeup today."

"Just look in the mirror"

"But-"

"Just look in the mirror Y/N" you grabbed the compact from her hand and looked at yourself, trying to see what she was talking about. Nothing seemed out of place, you didn't have any bruises from the collision last night. You went to close the mirror when you glimpsed orange. You immediately pulled it back to your face. Eyes wide.

"I…. What?" Your words lost and confused.

"Now tell me about him!" She sat on the edge of your desk looking at you.

"I only talked to Chan last night. And we both know he isn't my match" you sat staring at the mirror in your hand. Going through everything that happened, you grabbed your phone. Quickly texting Chan.

--What color are your eyes???

you hadn't heard of knowing someone for years before they became a soulmate but you had to ask.

"Well you had to have met someone new" she nudged your leg.

"That's the thing, I don't remember talking to anyone else. Just Chan annoying me, then-" the sudden realization hit you. "I ran into someone, literally"

"Of course that's how you would meet your match" she nodded. "You are kind of clumsy"

"Oh hush!" You pushed her slightly, she just laughed.

"So tell me about him"

"Um, he was handsome? I think his name was Hajun? No, Hyunwoo? I don't remember. I was a little frazzled last night. Plus we only talked for a second after we both ended up on the floor" you muttered, leaning back in your chair again looking at the ceiling. When your phone buzzed.

-why are yours perhaps a different color

-say orange? 😏

--Well I never expected you to be my soulmate after all this time….

- what are you going on about? My eyes are still a perfect green and purple.

--Chan what do you know...

- Far more than you think

--Chan tell me! Did you talk to Hyunwoo?

-I don't know a Hyunwoo.

-do you perhaps mean Hyunjin?

-- YES! Hyunjin! Are his eyes also orange

-- dumb question

--you told me orange before I told you what color my eyes are.

-this is actually very entertaining

- you're over thinking everything aren't you.

-- Shut up Chan!

-- Do you have his info

- Maybe, but you told me to shut up so I will!

--Chan! No!

-- Please!

--I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you! I need his number.

- Only if you do something for me

-- I don't like where this is going...

- you never do.

- dinner 6 pm tonight, at Ombu downtown.

- be there and I might give you what you want after you pay for dinner.

-- You only like me for my money

- I have more money than you!

--So you say, but I always pay.

- just meet me at 6.

"So Chan knows who it is, but won't give me his information" you said looking at Joy who was now actually working at her desk. Like you should be.

"Typical Chan, let me guess. Making you buy him dinner in exchange for the information." You nodded. "I swear whoever his soulmate is better cook well, he will do anything in exchange for food" she shook her head.

Work was over soon enough, and so you changed into jeans and a blouse, did a small amount of makeup and headed downtown. Ombu was your typical spot to go with Chan. Delicious Korean barbecue, their meat selections far better than the other places around. Which is why Chan always insisted on going there.

"Welcome, Y/N! Chan is already waiting for you" Rose the usual hostess said guiding you towards your usual back corner booth, Chan loved this booth, he could people watch and it had the best hot plate.

"Thanks Rose!" You say as she motions towards the table. Your eyes grew as you looked at the table. Not only seeing Chan, but you couldn't stop staring at the orange eyed man next to him. "Hyunjin, right?" You said softly as you took your seat, he nodded a smile came across his face as he stared at you.

You finally started to understand why those couples would just stare into one another's eyes. His eyes were intriguing, bringing you a sense of peace. His eyes looked like the flames of the comforting campfires you enjoyed so much as a child. You almost wanted to just curl up and look in his eyes forever.

"Well, now I can see this is going to be awkward. So I'm just going to order food to get the dinner started" Chan said. You hadn't even realized the waiter had come to the table to take your order.

"Sorry" you and Hyunjin muttered at the same time. Followed by nervous giggles.

"I wasn't expecting to see you tonight," you said to Hyunjin. "Chan wanted dinner in exchange for your information. I didn't think he would bring you"

"Well, I asked him to keep me informed last night, after I couldn't find you. So once he told me you guys were getting dinner I wouldn't let him tell me no" his hand drifted towards yours on the table.

"So you're persistent," you noted.

"Very." He smirked moving closer.

"Look, guys I want dinner. Can't you guys make heart eyes at each other afterwards. I just want to eat. And if this continues, you guys are going to make me sick." Chan groaned.

"I'll try to behave," you said as you reached towards Hyunjins hand, taking it in yours.

"You don't know how to behave." Chan teased. You just rolled your eyes, shaking your head. You usually would say something back, but you were slightly distracted by the soft circles being drawn by Hyunjins thumb on the back of your hand.

Two weeks later you sat in Hyunjins apartment. Cuddling as you watched an action comedy. Your head resting on his chest as his arm draped around you. You started to get to know your match well. You found out he worked at the large musical academy. He taught dance, and music history. He was doing quite well for himself, he had a nice place, a car, and was decently responsible with his money.

Hyunjin was your soulmate, your match. Aside from that first night at ombu with Chan; the two of you did your best not to be disgustingly cute in front of those who didn't have their match yet. Such as his roommate Han, who usually ended up joining the two of you for movie nights.

Truthfully life was good, you felt less bitter about it all. Of course it wasn't perfect, and you still had a lot to learn about the other, but this was what you needed. You needed someone who was whole, who had a kind heart and soul. And that was what you got, it was just a perk that he was ridiculously attractive.

Hyunjin was grateful to have finally found you too. He didn't mind being younger. He loved your caring heart, protected by its sarcastic shell. He couldn't believe he met someone who already had so much drive and compassion. He loved your playful banter with his friends, he was grateful you accepted his friends and did your best to make them comfortable. Plus he couldn't ever take his eyes off of you. In his mind you were perfect in every way, despite the flaws you insisted you had.

He felt lucky being the first of his friends to find his match.

-- Orange meaning: warmth, enthusiasm, success, encouragement, change, determination, stimulation, happiness, fun, sexuality, freedom, expression, and fascination. --

#happy Hyunjin day #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids fan fiction #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz fanfic #skz hyunjin #skz soulmate au #soulmate au #stray kids soulmate au #hyunjin soulmate au #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #skz angst #stray kids angst

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desiree-harding-fic · 4 years ago

Text

A TAZ Cinderella AU

You guessed it, folks, this is the full arc of what my Cinderella!au would have been for the Adventure Zone, if I had the time/inspiration to write the whole thing. Just imagine that all of this is paced out over a bunch of chapters of very pretty words, ok? ;)

That said, enjoy! I’m actually very proud of the thing I concocted in my my head for this!

To begin, a quick run-down of the situation as it stands at the beginning of the fic: Mostly Taakitz-centric, Blupjeans as a side plot. Kravitz is the Crown Prince of Faerun, his mother the Raven Queen current ruler of the kingdom, and him as her only son. Taako and Lup’s parents are both dead, and they live with their mother’s father: their grandfather Tostaada, along with the many aunts and uncles and cousins from Tostaada’s other children.

Tostaada has a house, several days travel (at least) from Neverwinter, a typical country home for the well-to-do. He’s somewhere between gentry and nobility, but his wealth has been in decline, as is often the case in these stories. His mistreatment of Taako and Lup comes from a disdain for their father. And it provides a convenient excuse not to pay servants.

Summary of the arc proper under the cut:

So we begin with a prologue (posted here) in which we see Kravitz and Taako, around the early teenage years (14-ish) and just get a little taste of how different their lives are.

Chapter one (also here) kicks off with Kravitz sneaking out of the castle in the early morning for a ride, musing at how busy he is and how stressful his life is trying to be in charge of a whole kingdom, etc. Upon his return, Barry, the royal head arcanist, and Kravitz’s friend, is waiting for him, and informs him that he has a meeting scheduled this morning with the Royal Council.

The Royal Council was originally meant to be a B plot in the story, something to help drive the thing forward, in part because I couldn’t think of a reason as to why the Raven Queen, who adores her son, would force him into marriage. There had to be an outside pressure. So the council was born.

The council was created during the reign of Kravitz’s grandfather, as a way of giving the people a say and lessening the power of absolute monarchy in Faerun, which was falling out of fashion. That was the intent, but, as we find out in the first chapter, the council is now filled with noblemen who haven’t really got the people’s best interests in mind, at least in Kravitz’s humble opinion, and get a good deal of say over what he does. There was never anything enacted that would allow Kravitz to either disband the council or enact term limits, and now, if he were to put such a thing to a vote, it would never go through.

The original council consisted of: Lord Sterling (Artemis’s father), Jenkins, Gundren & Jack (both recently deceased at the opening of the story), Governor Kalen, and Davenport. I promise this will be relevant later.

So in our first chapter the Raven Queen pulls Kravitz aside after his meeting and tells him, over a very tense tea, that he is turning 25 in a couple of months, and the council, as well as foreign powers, are getting nervous that he has no martial prospects yet, and as the Raven Queen has no other relations to carry on the monarchy in Kravitz’s stead, they kind of need to get a move on. Having it so that the Royal line could die out any minute isn’t great for cultivating confidence in the people of your kingdom.

Kravitz is understandably upset, being the romantic that he is (I love him), and he wants nothing less than to be married as the result of some political power play. And yet, there is low probability, at least in his mind, that anyone that will be “suitable” according to his mother, the council, and the people both in Faerun and abroad, will be anyone that he will even remotely like. But what can he do? He agrees to begin the process of finding a spouse at this year’s Harvest Ball, which will coincide closely with his 25th birthday.

Barry is actually the one that gives Kravitz the idea of throwing the doors open to the whole of Faerun, and Kravitz, seeing it as an opportunity to meet men who aren’t stuffy nobles he hates, strikes a bargain with his mother: a masked ball, three nights long. Kravitz will not know (in theory) who is wealthy and powerful and who is not, and will be able to choose at his discretion someone that he would like to pursue. Shockingly, the Queen agrees.

*~*~*~*~*

SMASHCUT to Tostaada’s country home. We see Lup and Taako going about their morning routine, making breakfast for the family, lighting the fires in the hearth, generally working their asses off. Mid-breakfast, there’s a knock at the door, one that Taako goes to answer. (This is a no-no. He’s meant to be more of a behind-the-scenes servant, Lup being the one who is seen. She’s slightly more favored by Tostaada. Taako is hated. But Lup is in the middle of something, so...) It’s a letter from the Raven Queen, an invitation actually, to the family Taaco, to come to Neverwinter for the three-night Harvest Ball.

The Queen’s intentions of finding her son a husband are not directly stated, but Tostaada is a shrewd, terrible old man, and it does not take him a moment to catch on. The family packs up, Taako and Lup and all, and heads to Neverwinter, the ball two weeks away.

While they’re packing, Lup pulls Taako aside and tells him her plan. They’ll be in Neverwinter for almost two weeks, ball included. And the whole kingdom will be swarming to the city for this, it will be more crowded than ever, and therefore will give them the perfect opportunity to run away from Tostaada. He’ll be so preoccupied he’ll never be able to track them down in the chaos of this event. Taako hesitates for just a second before he’s on board. They’ll run away mid-ball, when the family is gone, and by the time Tostaada realizes anything, it’ll be too late.

*~*~*~*~*

SMASHCUT back to Krav, chilling in the palace, it’s now two weeks before the ball (around the same time that Taako and co. get the letter, actually,) and preparations are well underway. During another busy day of overseeing some of the prep for the upcoming Massive Festival (TM), Kravitz runs across Captain Davenport, just returned from a long stint at sea.

They have a conversation about the state of affairs in the kingdom, Kravitz expressing his frustration at not only the ineptitude but corruption on the council, and his worries about this marital plan. He knows that Lord Sterling is going to throw his son Artemis at him relentlessly, but he hates the kid, and wants nothing to do with him, etc.

Davenport merely expresses that he has faith in Kravitz’s ability to turn it all around and make for a good king. That the recent loss of Gundren and Jack and the dragging on of the council replacing them doesn’t bode well, but that he needs to see the thing through.

He unfortunately agrees with the rest of the council, however, that Kravitz needs to be married, and soon. There’s only so long they can go dragging this out. Kravitz sees the sense in this and agrees, albeit reluctantly. At least he has the opportunity to find someone he actually likes.

Meanwhile, Taako, Lup, Tostaada and the family have arrived in Neverwinter and will be staying in a fine manor house in the upscale residential part of the city, and the family immediately sets out to find tailors and seamstresses who can get them all dressed up for the inevitable ball. The house is in shambles on the inside, the only way Tostaada could get it cheap, and Lup and Taako spend the afternoon trying to fix it up to live-able standards and clean it enough so that should the family be called upon, they’ll at least look respectable.

In the meantime, no one is home, and they begin to plan their escape.

They plan it for the third night of the ball. Tostaada will be furious if they leave sooner, being left with no servants to assist any upcoming nights. The third night, once the family leaves for the party, they’ll be in the clear. If Tostaada manages an advantageous match for any one of the cousins, he won’t bother with Taako and Lup anymore, and get better servants. It’s highly likely that in the next two weeks he’ll make several matches, so after the party is done they should be as safe as possible given their plan.

*~*~*~*~*

Everyone spends a week getting ready.

Istus, friend of the Raven Queen from a neighboring kingdom, arrives to the palace. She will be staying for the celebration, and for a while on either end. She and the Raven Queen have a conversation, in which the Raven Queen expresses her anxiety about the upcoming matchmaking process for her son. She does not want his marriage to end up like hers (loveless, purely political). She asks Istus if she will use some of her divination skills to look into the future. Istus agrees, and it is clear that she sees something very intriguing in Kravitz’s future. She does not say what it is, but she assures her Majesty not to worry.

The day of the ball arrives.

Now by some trick of fate, one of the cousins has received the wrong suit by accident, and Lup simply must go to the tailor and send it back, and retrieve the one he was supposed to receive at any cost. So Lup goes, and Taako doesn’t think much of it until she bursts back into the attic that evening, two garment bags in her hands. She says that there was a mistake, and that a noble man and woman didn’t pick up their garments for whatever reason; the week has been so chaotic anyway, and there was talk of them falling ill and being unable to attend the ball tonight, and the woman at the tailor shop felt so bad about the mistaken order she offered to alter them to fit Tostaada’s family for free, as a sort of “so sorry about the mistake” thing, and Lup said she would just take them, and isn’t it exciting Taako, we can use these and go to the ball tonight!

Taako is reluctant to accept this plan, but Lup says they’ll only go one night, just to see the spectacle, and then they can be home for the other two and prepare to run away, and besides, they’re starting a new life and this will be a fun way to kick it off, and the outfits even come with masks, Taako, please?

Taako finally relents, and they spend the rest of the afternoon getting the cousins ready to go to the ball themselves, along with the aunts and uncles and Tostaada himself, who is in one of his moods. It’s awful, but they finally get a moment away, and they sneak up to the attic to pull out their garments...

And they get caught. Tostaada never comes upstairs, but he was calling for them, one of the cousins having forgotten a brooch or something, they weren’t answering, and when he comes upstairs and sees them, he takes the garments, drags the twins downstairs, and lets the cousins laugh at them until they’re in tears, and the family rip the dress and the suit to shreds.

The thought that they would even show themselves is so repulsive to Tostaada, and he gets angry at the presumption of it all, and he locks them downstairs in the kitchen for the duration of the evening, the door swinging shut behind him with a heavy clang.

Lup is furious, Taako more resigned, as the house quiets with the eventual departure of the family.

An hour passes with them sitting in the kitchen under the house, Lup cursing her luck. If not for her stupid idea to go, they wouldn’t be in here, locked in, and they could work on their preparations to leave two nights hence. But now they’re completely useless.

The latch on the door to the outside of the house, the small yard in the back with the meager kitchen garden, comes undone, and swings open of its own accord.

A woman is there. Or at least it looks like a woman; she is cloaked, head to toe, even her face obscured, but there’s a shimmer in the air around her that they recognize immediately as magic.

Taako and Lup have been learning magic, little by little. Taako stole a book from the village a little over a year ago, but it’s slow going, especially with Tostaada always trying to catch them doing something “indecent.”

They’ve never seen anything like this.

The mysterious woman tells them she heard Lup’s frustrated shouting while walking by and wanted to see if they needed any help. Once they thank her for letting them out, she asks them why they haven’t decided to go to the ball; two young people like them at home on a night like this seems strange. Lup scoffs, says they thought about going for a moment, but they have nothing to wear.

Istus (for by now the reader surely knows it is Istus) cocks her head and says that that won’t do, will it? And raises her hands.

And in a moment their clothes are transformed, and Lup is dressed in a gorgeous gown in reds and golds, and feathered mask is on her face, and Taako’s in a finely made suit, his mask vaguely rodential. And the woman says that now they are well-suited for a ball. Taako and Lup are just gaping at her, but she shoos them along. Go, she says, and Taako feels a peculiar prickle up his spine when she tells them, when she tells him, it feels like, to amuse himself, to have a good time, to meet new people.

She warns them that while her magic is powerful, which is evident, it is sensitive to time. Wherever they are, at the stroke of midnight, the magic will fade, and their appearances will revert to what they were before.

Lup and Taako, wanting to go only for a few laughs and to spite Tostaada, say that this is more than enough time.

And they go.

When they arrive at the palace, it’s positively swarmed with people. They agree to meet by the front doors at a half hour before midnight, giving them plenty of time to get out without being seen.

And they go in.

They’re being jostled on all sides, and well, as much as they’d like to stick together it doesn’t really work out that way, and before he knows it, Taako is in the midst of a ballroom looking for Lup, and following the flow of the crowd -

And suddenly he’s face-to-face (or, well, mask-to-mask) with a very handsomely dressed man with a skull for a face.

A skull mask, to be exact, all silver and gold filigree and done up with rubies and diamonds, and his suit is fine, dark velvet in rich blacks and deep, deep reds, and he bows and Taako does, too, because he feels as though it’s the thing to do, and when the man straightens up he and Taako trade the typical small-talk befitting a prince and his guest (because, Taako realizes, with as many people seem to be looking at them, that is surely who this must be), and Taako says something witty that makes Kravitz laugh which I will not write here, because this is a summary, which means all I have to do is say when the jokes happen; I don’t actually have to write them.

Long story short, Kravitz pulls off his mask, and he asks Taako to dance.

The anonymity Kravitz was hoping to be afforded by throwing a masked ball has not really panned out. Everyone can tell exactly which mask the prince is behind, and once the receiving line began to form, there was really nothing for it. He likes the Mongoose-masked stranger, though, and would very much like to know him better. And so what if he’s abandoning the rest of the line? He’s the prince, thank you very much, and he can do what he likes.

Taako is sold the moment the prince pulls his mask off, because the prince is hot, and Taako feels rather gorgeous himself, and maybe this is the first night in a while that he’s had any kind of serious fun and he’s feeling a bit reckless, so he pulls his mask off too and they have a dance.

Or two.

Or three, talking all the while.

After the third, the prince bows respectfully and says he must see to his other guests, but that he hopes to see Taako again, and Taako, maybe just a little flustered, wanders over to the food.

Meanwhile, Lup entered the ballroom, having gotten a bit lost on the way in, shortly after the fateful meeting itself and what does she see but her brother, unmasked, dancing with a man who is most unmistakably the prince.

Which is really just perfect, isn’t it?

She pouts for a minute because one beautiful elf will hardly draw any attention in this crowd, except Taako’s dancing with the crown prince, so every eye in the assembly is fixed upon him, and seeing an identical twin will definitely lead to some word getting around. So Lup is confined to remaining masked for the duration of the ball.

Which isn’t so bad, since she was expecting that, after all, but neither is she looking forward to it.

She skirts the edge of the ballroom, finds her way to some refreshment tables, and she’s lucky her mask leaves most of the bottom half of her face free as she nibbles on the hors d’oeuvres set out and generally enjoys the spectacle. She is propositioned to dance a few times but after the prince removes his mask a large portion of the assembly does as well, and Lup rather sticks out for keeping hers on.

She isn’t given much more attention, then, as all of the other people around seem to write off the mask as a wish to stay hidden and therefore ignored, and while they aren’t wrong, Lup isn’t enjoying the ball half as much as she thought.

And then things go from bad to worse.

Some moron completely knocks into her and sends her drink, a strong red wine, all down the front of her, granted, magical and temporary, but very nice dress.

Lup’s going to be mad, but the man is so sweet about it, stammering his apologies, and completely red in the face and, frankly, such a dork that she really can’t be mad, and he does about some ridiculous business about trying mop up the wine and it’s completely hopeless, and Lup is bored -

So she tries casting prestidigitation on the stain.

And, somewhat to her surprise, it works.

This catches the man’s attention, who immediately straightens up and starts asking her questions about where she’s learned magic, and what other spells she knows, and what her name is. Lup, in a moment of impulse, introduces herself as Lady Lulu, which she cringes at immediately but sticks with. And the man is nice to talk to, and interesting, and apparently an expert in the arcane, which Lup is thrilled about. Out of all these people she ran into someone actually interesting.

At one point, she invites the man to dance, but he refuses, a bit awkwardly. He says he’s not very coordinated, but he wouldn’t mind taking a walk, if she wouldn’t mind either? Lup is going to say yes, but upon glancing at the clock, sees that it’s almost eleven-thirty, and tells him she has to go.

Taako, meanwhile, has danced with Kravitz twice more, and chatted a bit, and when he tries to extricate himself from his Highness’s presence Kravitz seems genuinely disappointed to see him go, and asks him if he’ll be back tomorrow night.

Taako, suddenly overcome with something that makes him want to make this man smile, says yes.

And then he goes to meet Lup at the front.

They head home, making their way through the streets which are not quite as crowded as the palace was, but are still significantly busy, as those who felt they would not be at home in the palace have taken to celebrating the harvest ball in the streets. Lup and Taako make it home unnoticed, and they chat a little bit about what they saw and what they did, and when Lup teases Taako about the prince, he’s unusually quiet. This worries Lup a bit, but she doesn’t press further.

Their clothes transform when they’re about 3/4 of the way home. When they arrive, they figure they have a few hours until the family gets home to begin making preparations for their escape. Around three, they shut themselves back up in the kitchen. Lup manages to find, from the outside, a way around the locked door that i haven’t decided on yet, because this is just a summary.

Wash, rinse, repeat. The twins are on their best behavior the next day as Tostaada and co. sleep through the morning, having been up late the night before, and while no one comes to call that afternoon, Tostaada still has high hopes for a match. Lup and Taako are locked in the kitchen, manage to get out -

And now, Taako has been nervous all day having promised the prince he would be back, and surprisingly, quite wanting to see him again. He’s pacing the floor when Istus arrives, transforms their clothes, and sends them off.

Lup is more than a little skeptical about this magic woman, but Taako wants to go, so she goes, and tries to put the bizarre-ness of it out of her mind.

Taako goes to the ball, meets up with Kravitz, and this time Kravitz doesn’t leave his side all night. Lup wanders around, still masked, until she runs into Barry again (not literally this time) and makes good on that walk in the gardens he asked her for last night. They both make it to the gates again by eleven-thirty, and make it home.

This night, however, something tips Tostaada off. Maybe it’s the way Taako moves, or maybe it’s his own paranoia, but something happens at the ball that makes him suspicious. I will not hash out what it is at this time because, again: Summary.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

Istus, on the third night, gives Taako his most fabulous ensemble yet, a beautiful thing in deep blue and silver and gives him jewelry set in sapphires and, you guessed it, pink tourmaline (because I’m predictable). Including, most importantly, a pair of bracelets. As Lup is locking up the kitchen to go, Istus pulls Taako aside and hands him the bracelets, and tells him that they will not dissipate at midnight. She hints vaguely at Taako and Lup’s plans to go away after the ball is over, tells him to consider the bracelets a gift. They are two of a kind, she tells him, and perhaps they will fetch a price.

Taako does not know why this woman knows so much about their life, but he’s eager to get to the party, accepts the bracelets, and before he can ask her more, she’s gone.

They head out to the ball for the third time.

It is this night that we get the majority of the material between Taako and Kravitz. Kravitz, this time, is waiting right inside the door to the ballroom, and when Taako arrives he is immediately swept up by the prince into a dance. Although, after a few hours of dancing and eating and generally enjoying themselves in the ballroom, they take a walk in the gardens.

Meanwhile, it is at this time that we get the scene where Barry has been chatting Lup up, quite obliviously, and finally he asks her if she’d like to see his lab, unable to take it anymore, he’s so excited that someone’s interested in his work. Lup, of course, thinks it’s a come-on, as discussed here, but upon going up to Barry’s tower lab she realizes that he actually, genuinely was inviting her up to look at his research which is just... too cute.

Meanwhile, Taako and Kravitz are taking a stroll through the extensive terraced palace gardens, talking all the while and the both of them are just... enamored. Taako feels beautiful and important for the first time in a long time and it’s wonderful. Kravitz has found someone interesting and gorgeous and wonderful, and it’s just... too much. It’s hard to write in short form here that they’re in love, but they like... are. Just trust me. Not fully, because it’s only been a few meetings, a few nights, but there’s something there. There’s a pull that they haven’t felt before, and feels somehow beyond them.

They wander, and the gardens are beautiful, and the moonlight is beautiful, and they end up on a sort of terrace, secluded by trees, and the sea is down below them and they dance again, just the two of them, and then there’s kissing and it’s all very romantic, I promise. There’s a scene from it here.

Then the clock strikes midnight.

And Taako panics.

The time got away from him, he got distracted, and he tries to run, but Kravitz catches his hand and he’s begging Taako to stay but Taako can’t, because Kravitz doesn’t know what’s going on here.

He thinks fast. He unclasps one of the bracelets and places it in Kravitz’s hand and says so fast that if Kravitz wants to see him again he can look for him and Taako will have the other bracelet ok bye and then he runs.

He barely makes it out of the palace in time.

But of course, by this time, Lup is not at the front gates. They planned out a fallback location, less conspicuous, if one of them got held up, and Taako is already late, and he gets there as fast as he can, and Lup is pissed.

(she’s mostly just worried).

She kind of goes at him for being late but Taako just says he lost track of time, and whatever that feeling is in his voice makes Lup back off. She’s never heard Taako sound like that before. She lets it go, but she’s more worried than before.

They make their way home, ready to pick up their packs and run like they were planning. But they open the door to the kitchen, and there’s a thud, and a candle lights, and Tostaada is there, the contents of their packs spread out before him, and absolute fury in his eyes.

It’s awful. After his suspicion, he saw Taako enter the ball tonight. And knew it was him. And he was furious. He came home, headed them off, and yells at them something fierce, locking them in separate closets to deal with them, because they can’t be trusted to be together, they’ll scheme. (Some of the cousins, by the way, are here for this, because fuck the cousins).

They try desperately to break out. Banging on the door, trying to bust out the doorknob, to cast something on the door to unlock it, but they’ve been going three days only getting a couple hours of sleep a night. It finally hits them how exhausted they are. After a while, there’s nothing they can do.

Now you may say to yourself “this is awfully convenient.” And you would be right. But it’s also a fairytale, and this is a summary of a fairytale, so there.

Tostaada, because he fucking sucks, finds some way to separate the twins. Probably something along the lines of dragging Taako out of his “cell” and being like guess what I’ve always hated you and I’m a real bastard so you’re working for this shady caravan now, have a good time. Taako is Not Down to be separated from his sister but he’s also like hey fuck you to Tostaada and is going to dip from that caravan in about 30 seconds so he’s like yeah have a nice life, too, dickweed.

He slips away from the caravan in like... a day. Fuck those guys. He’s gonna go back and get Lup.

And just a bit later, Lup gets let out of the closet, and finds out that Taako’s gone. And she goes fucking berserk. She casts her first fireball (yes I know that’s now how it works in DnD but shhhhhhh it’s fine).

She burns Tostaada’s fucking dumbass city house to the ground. And Tostaada and the cousins are panicking but Lup is honestly like fuck the cousins, and she slips away in the chaos. Fuck Tostaada. Fuck the family. Lup’s going to go find her fucking brother.

*~*~*~*~*

We haven’t checked in on Kravitz in a hot minute, but he’s been completely smitten with Taako from the moment he met him, and has been saying as much to Mama Bird herself, the Raven Queen, who has been... a little less than stoked. She is skeptical because this isn’t going exactly as planned, and on top of that, Kravitz hasn’t even learned this man’s name. He’s an absolute enigma, and Raven worries not only that this man will potentially not be a good asset to the kingdom, but he also might not turn up and completely break Kravitz’s heart.

But Kravitz stands firm. The Queen said he could make his choice, well, he’s going to. He’s going to go after this guy.

...Or so he thinks. See, the Royal Council, as in all things, gets their say. And they’re not happy with this. Generally disapproving when Kravitz tries to make his own decisions, they say absolutely not to his wish to search for Taako. Raven tries to help by talking them down from letting them handle the search and keeping Kravitz in the capital to letting Kravitz go himself but only giving him a few months time. If he hasn’t found Taako by then, he’s going to have to call off the search altogether and look for another match.

It’s not good, but it’s something. Kravitz takes his bracelet and begins seeking out every elf in the land who even vaguely matches Taako’s description.

*~*~*~*~*

The elf in question is, at this point, on his own. Meeting up with your sister when you have no idea where she is and she has no idea where you are, and you’re running back and forth and missing each other, well. It’s difficult.

It takes them a little while to get back together, and I’m sure there are plenty of minor trials and tribulations along the way. I won’t go into them all here, because this is a summary.

*~*~*~*~*

Kravitz is on the move, looking for Taako. He searches and searches and comes up with nothing. It’s been two months. It’s almost the height of winter. He’s running out of his allotted time for his search. And that’s when it happens.

He’s riding through this one town, a ways from the capital, when he sees, there, out of the corner of his eye, a flash of silver and blue and maybe some pink, and he turns his head, and there’s the bracelet. The one Taako gave him.

But it’s not on Taako’s wrist.

Kravitz calls for the guards travelling with him and they stop the woman and they question her as to where she got that bracelet. She says that she bought it off a travelling salesman, and seems rather embarrassed about it. She’s reluctant to give it up, having bought it fair and square, but Kravitz pays her, and gets it back.

Kravitz is, of course, heartbroken. Taako said he would have the other bracelet. He told Kravitz to look for him. He said to look for him. If he gave it up, if he sold it, does it mean he doesn’t want to see Kravitz again after all?

Kravitz wants answers for a minute. But then he listens to reason. Or so he thinks. Discouraged, he returns to the capital, as per Lord Sterling’s suggestion.

Many people and things are trying to keep these two apart. It is at this point that these forces begin to win.

So he goes home, in time for the first snow to cover Neverwinter.

*~*~*~*~*

What Taako and Lup are up to in the meantime:

It’s pretty close to canon in that they mostly hop from job to job, and caravan to caravan, taking odd jobs and cooking and making their way. And it’s hard. It’s really hard. But something about it is good. This is the first time they’ve had, maybe in their whole lives, to just be in charge of themselves. They’re deciding their own destiny now.

Lup can see that Taako is different. Something has changed. The news that the prince is looking for him isn’t a secret at all, so she keeps a careful eye on him for how he feels about that. She brings it up a few times that maybe they could come forward in their own way, maybe let people know that he’s out there, but Taako keeps shutting her down before she can really talk about it.

As for Taako, he’s more than thrilled to finally be free of Tostaada, and to have his sister back after a few months of absence. But the whole thing at the ball and with Kravitz is... weighing on his mind.

I should explain the bracelet fiasco.

See, Taako and Lup returned from the ball, and the whole thing with Tostaada went down. Of course, while he was deciding what to do with Taako he confiscated the bracelet, and sold it off a bit later for whatever he could get. This is how it was able to travel so far from where Taako actually is; the jewelry seller went one way, Taako another, and Tostaada and the family, when they finally left Neverwinter, a third.

This is all running through Taako’s mind of course. It would be nice for Kravitz to find him, sure, but Taako was the one who set up the system of verification through the bracelet. Without it, what credibility does he have? And sure, maybe Kravitz will recognize him, but what if he doesn’t? It was dark, and it was only a few nights, and -

Anyway, Taako’s not going to worry about it. He’s fine, really, and it was only a few nights anyway, and what does he care about the dumb old prince. It’s not like Kravitz said he wanted to marry him. He just said he wanted to see him again. What the hell does that mean? And it’s not like Taako was the only one he spent time with at the ball.

Basically our sweet boy is snackin’ on a big slice of denial pie and it’s very sad.

Taako is saying that he doesn’t care whether he sees Kravitz again or not, but Lup can tell something is wrong. She suggests that they stick around in Faerun, work for the winter, and come spring, they’ll head out. They’ll hitch their way with the caravans, and work their way over the border. New country, new life. Leave all that Tostaada shit and everything behind.

Taako’s on board. They find themselves a job cooking and occasionally tending the bar at an inn, not a gross one but not the fanciest either. They’re going to work up some money, and they’re going to hit the road.

But back to Kravitz.

*~*~*~*~*

Kravitz is back home at the palace in Neverwinter. The first snow on the not-very-aptly named city makes traveling difficult. If Kravitz hadn’t already given up the dream of Taako, it would well and truly be impossible to find him now. No one in their right mind would send a search party out in the winter months.

So he’s essentially on house arrest.

And so begins the parade of potential partners. Everyone knows about the ball. Everyone knows now that the plan of having the prince find a partner there was a colossal failure. Every young and eligible nobleman in the capital who is even remotely interested in men gets thrown at this boy. Artemis Sterling most of all, a spoiled brat of a boy, who, when he’s not being absolutely appalling to people is boring them to death.

Kravitz is fucking miserable.

Does this make him think of Taako? Yes. Does he miss him? Absolutely. Does it only twist the knife of heartbreak in this boy who thought he had found someone good and then that person gave him up? 100 percent.

Kravitz is ready to jump off the cliffs out back the palace into the Stillwater Sea and swim to a new country when the word from Raven’s Roost comes.

Rebellion! Against Kalen, of all people! How could it be?

(Kravitz has hated Kalen for a while, but this certainly is a pickle).

Kalen is ousted, arrives in Neverwinter half-frozen and fuming, a few cronies on his tail, and chaos in the palace ensues. Who to believe? Kalen, who claims he has been unfairly attacked, or the people, claiming Kalen’s long-term abuse.

It all shakes out somehow. This is a summary, though, so I don’t have to say. Julia does something badass. Also she’s not dead. She and Magnus show up in the capital and there’s the whole them vs Kalen before the Raven Queen fiasco and finally she chooses the good people as the correct ones and Kalen is thrown in prison or banished or something lol idk.

And now there are... 3 positions on the royal council empty and it is essentially non-functioning. The kingdom is in governmental crisis. Magnus and Julia are at the palace. This whole rebellion/trial thing has taken most of the winter months.

Barry and Magnus become fast friends, which of course puts Magnus into Kravitz’s orbit more than the Kalen ordeal already has. And they begin talking. And at the prompting of Magnus and Julia being so in love, Taako of course comes up.

Magnus is all omg wow buddy that’s true love u gotta pursue that, and Kravitz is like ok but also consider he probably doesn’t even like me, and also it’s impossible, and also I can’t. To which Magnus says umm how do you know, and also bullshit, and also why not?

And why not indeed?

Well, Barry says, perhaps because the government is in shambles and to abandon everything now would almost certainly trigger all kinds of issues amongst the aristocracy, upon whom your hold is currently tenuous at best.

Kravitz says >:((

And then along comes Merle.

Merle comes moseying up the palace one day like hey guys how’s it goin’ I’m Merle, and the [PLACE WHERE GUNDREN WAS FROM] sent me here to be Gundren’s replacement on the Royal Council, after all I am his cousin, don’t’cha know, and sorry it took us so long, we had some issues to work through. He does not explain what these were, nor does he have to, for this is a summary.

Merle’s addition is a real gamechanger, because not only is he miraculously able to neutralize the more antagonistic personalities on the council (usually through saying something Kravitz can’t decide is crazy or profound), but also he’s a big advocate for let’s get things up and running again, starting with just replacing Kalen with one of these two nice people who Raven’s Roost seems to have elected to represent them.

Magnus goes “oh well I don’t know this is a lot of responsibility-” and before he’s even done talking Julia’s like “I’ll fuckin’ do it.”

This, of course, gets the council running, and, importantly to our plot, creates a majority of people who Want kravitz to Go After A Boy. They work on cleaning up the mess in Raven’s Roost, finally find a replacement for Jack (it’s Cassidy, also by election, which is a shiny new toy for these people) and they iron all of it out by the time Spring has sprung.

Kravitz says now can I go Find A Boy PLEEEAAAAASE I did the governing thing and everything. And most people’s reactions are omg I can’t believe you’re still talking about that but Fine. Take some friends. Kravitz takes Barry and Magnus and (mumble mumble some others idk like avi or someone don’t @ me) and is like BYE MY CONFIDENCE IS RESTORED AND I’M GONNA FIND A BOY.

*~*~*~*~*

So Spring Has Sprung.

Which means Lup and Taako are back on the move. Continuing their slow journey out of Faerun, working on their way (it’s nice to have money saved up, they find, but it’s not A Lot, and they don’t want to totally deplete it.) They usually stop for a week in a town, do some odd jobs, travel, stop for a week. It’s nice.

But they’re on the way OUT OF THE COUNTRY *cue dramatic music*

Will Kravitz Reach Them In Time? If he does, will Taako even Want To Go Back? All these questions and more exist at this point in the narrative.

*~*~*~*~*

Kravitz follows the lead of the bracelet. He does not stop for a week in towns. In fact, he’s pushing pretty hard. He tracks down the woman who points him to the seller who points him to Another travelling seller who points him to a jeweler in town who looks at the bracelet and says oh yeah, I got that from Old Man Tostaada, outside of town, he’s a proud type, but you should ask him.

Well. Kravitz certainly does.

In the nearly six months since Taako and Lup slunk and exploded out of his life, respectively, Tostaada has become an even crochetier, nastier, meaner old man than ever. He has no servants now. The cousins have to do chores, oh the horror. He’s propping his appearance of nobility up on pride alone. The house is in Shambles. It’s a whole Thing™️.

But one fateful springy day, one of the cousins looks out the window…

And Sees An Entire Royal-insignia’d Party Riding Up The Lane.

And promptly Panics.

Well Kravitz and co are ushered into the house with all kinds of Ceremony, and Tostaada is acting very proud, and Kravitz says excuse me sir, I was wondering if you might remember being in possession of this bracelet.

This is Bad News to Tostaada.

I may recall, sir, he says.

There’s a terribly polite and tense conversation after that. Tostaada refuses to say where he got the bracelet, even to royalty, being as old and spiteful as he is, and Kravitz is just about to threaten him with something terrible when one of the cousins breaks, and spills the whole story tearfully, about Taako and Lup and how they were treated and where Tostaada got the bracelet and “we didn’t know you wanted it, we didn’t know it was important, we swear,” and the only thing that keeps Kravitz from Severely Punishing them is that he refuses to waste any time getting to Taako, who he’s very keen to find now. Tostaada has no idea where Taako and Lup are now, though, so he wasn’t helpful in that sense. Only now Kravitz knows that they’ve Been The Fuck Through It, and that Taako didn’t give up the bracelet of his own accord, and so it’s possible that The Boy Still Likes Him.

And with renewed energy, off they go.

Tostaada gets stripped of whatever title he has left, or something, because FUCK him.

Kravitz and the gang are putting out the word that hey, we’re still looking for this elf, if anyone’s seen him, that would be great.

The thing is, this time, they’re getting leads, on account of Lup and Taako sticking around in places long enough to make a friend or two.

*~*~*~*~*

It’s later, and almost Summertime, baby, when Lup and Taako finally hear the news.

The prince is still looking for Taako? Damn. Boy’s serious.

Lup watches Taako’s face carefully when they hear this news. They’re leaving town. They only have one more before they reach the border and slip away. Lup says hey. Are you sure you don’t wanna come forward and say something?

Taako’s like no of course we shouldn’t do that don’t be silly it’s FINE. (It’s not fine, Lup can tell, but she’s not gonna push. This is Taako’s decision to make. They’re gonna make a fresh start in a new place. It’ll be great.

They start hiking to the next town, hobbit style. They make it out into ye woods and find a nice spot to settle down and camp. Make up a fire, get cozy, cook a little dinner, the whole shindig. They settle down to sleep.

Taako wakes up. In the middle of the night. The full moon is shining brightly down into the clearing they’re sleeping in and the fire is no longer the softly smoldering embers it was when he fell asleep. It’s nice crackling along. And sitting there, tending it, is a lady.

Lady is the only way to describe her. She’s in a gown of silvery thread with silvery hair tumbling down her back. She asks Taako if he’d like some tea. He can’t tell if the light in the clearing is from the moon, or the fire, or just from her. She speaks with a voice that just sounds so familiar, but that he doesn’t quite place.

She hands Taako a cup of tea. It’s floral and fragrant and lovely. She asks him what he’s running from. He says she sounds awfully condescending talking like that, and if she knew what he’d been through she wouldn’t act like leaving it all behind was such a bad decision. She says she never said it was a bad decision, she just wonders how much he’s thought about it, is all. There’s a quiet moment, as she sips her tea. She says, quietly, that perhaps Taako ought to be careful, not to run too far too fast.

And taako wakes up again. There’s a teacup sitting beside him. Empty. Clean. There’s no sign that there was any visitor in the night.

To Lup, Taako is acting weird the next day. He seems jumpy. He seems distant. She keeps worrying they’re gonna get jumped on the road, from the way he’s not paying attention to his surroundings. He’s in his head, even more than usual. But they manage to arrive to the next town without incident.

And Taako’s weird over the next few days. And Lup suggests on the fourth that they get a move on. There’s a caravan headed across the border tomorrow, we can go with them.

Taako looks at the drink in his hand for a long moment, not there with her, and she’s about to ask again when he says “maybe just a few more days.”

Taako doesn’t ask her for much. Taako seems very serious, and it’s kind of scaring Lup. But she agrees. A few more days is fine. Then they’ll go.

And a few days pass. And Taako’s weird. He keeps looking around corners like he’s expecting something to jump out from around them. He keeps looking down the street like he expects something to come barreling into town. But nothing ever seems to.

Come on, Taako, Lup says, three days later, while Taako’s dropped over a cup of wine in the local inn. Tomorrow some more people are leaving, mid-afternoon, they said, let’s go. Just over those hills and we can start everything over, make a name for ourselves. What do you say?

And Taako agrees.

They go to bed.

And, in the bright-mid morning the next day, Kravitz and the gang come riding into town, Raven Queen standard flying high over their heads, dressed in shining silver on black. Lup’s out on the street, collecting some last-minute supplies when she sees them.

Holy shit, Lup says.

She recognizes the Prince. She recognizes BARRY. And after her moment of gawking in surprise, the prince glances her way, and does a frankly comedic wide-eyed double take.

She does, after all, have Taako’s face.

He hops off his horse and very politely comes over and introduces himself, and identifies her by name (he met her grandfather) and asks, very kindly, if she might know where he can find her brother.

Lup does some quick mental calculus and says “yeah, I can show you where he is.”

That scene can be found HERE. (I truly can’t shortly summarize this one better than I wrote it so yikes secret few thousand words nested in this already monstrous summary, I’m sorry but not really I am sorry that it switches tense like three times, I do not have the energy to correct it).

Needless to say, they are reunited.

But it’s a lot to put on someone, the entire “come home with me I think you’re the love of my life even though we kind of only know each other a little, also if you say yes you might be responsible for governing a whole people” so Taako needs some time to think.

Kravitz leaves him some.

And then Taako and Lup have a long conversation, where Taako makes lots of excuses as to why he shouldn’t go with Kravitz, and Lup listens very patiently and nods and hums along, and then finally asks him if he thinks Kravitz will make him happy.

This stumps Taako for a good long time, standing stock still, looking terrified, before he nods.

Well, Lup says, I think you know what you need to do.

And Taako goes, the evening, as it’s getting late (which is about when he and Lup finished hashing it all out and he got his courage up) to Kravitz’s room in the inn, and Kravitz’s guards let him in, and oh. Oh Kravitz looks lovely, standing there, dressed down, comfortable in his own space. And Kravitz gets up and looks at Taako with wide eyes and Taako says, “I thought about what you said.”

“Yes?” Kravitz says. He might be crying. Taako can’t tell. He looks terrified.

“I think…” Taako says. “I think I want to go with you.”

Kravitz becomes a human embodiment of heart eyes and says “really?”

And Taako says oh my god yes but you have to not be weird.

“I’m not being weird,” says Kravitz, still heart eyes-ing, “I’m so not weird. I’m so normal, see?”

And they KISS.

*~*~*~*~*

Everybody packs up the next morning to head on their merry way home. Kravitz is over the moon. Taako is, kind of, too, but is trying to be chill about it. Lup tells Barry as they leave that she was the one he was hanging with at the ball that one time, good to see him again, and Barry becomes human heart eyes for approximately four seconds before he reigns it in and he’s like oh cool nice to officially meet you, and the two of them spend the rest of the trip circling each other trying not to act in love because like there’s a lot going on and Taako needs lup and all, and Taako and Kravitz are very amused by this.

Taako and Magnus become fast friends. And, he and Kravitz get time to properly get to know each other during all that travel together, and the scary thing is they fit better than they ever thought they would, they really do. Taako likes the boy more by the day. Kravitz is so smitten it’s revolting.

When they get back to Neverwinter, there’s a fair bit of fanfare and the Raven Queen makes a big stink about Kravitz shirking his duties and being irresponsible and whatnot, but he can tell she’s secretly pleased. She comes to like Taako very much.

And well… you know what’s next. After a bit, Taako and Kravitz get married.

*~*~*~*~*

EPILOGUE:

The marriage of King Kravitz to Prince Taako is known as one of the more fortuitous in the history of the nation.

Prince Taako, after his history as one of the working common folk of Faerun, went on to use his new seat on the royal council to champion reforms that changed the lives of working people everywhere. The laws he helped draft that established basic working condition requirements for those in domestic services helped launch a new era of equal pay and treatment for the working classes of Faerun, and a culling of the power of the wealthy.

He helped establish a new nation-wide system of government, based on regional elections, and with King Kravitz, gradually placed more political power in the hands of the people. The minimum requirements for the royal council to balance the number of aristocratic members with those without titles stands to this day.

Prince Taako was known, also, for his aptitude for the arcane. Though never did he manage to surpass his sister and brother-in-law in his lifetime, he is revered as one of the more powerful and skilled mages in Faerun’s history. Though perhaps more famous is his legacy as a great instructor in the arcane sciences, known especially for training Grand Archmage Angus McDonald in his early years.

Though perhaps chief among his achievements was his role in the war against the Hunger in the twenty-third year of King Kravitz’s reign. He was among those who formulated the plan to infiltrate the Hunger’s forces and carry out the assassination of John the Devourer. And when King Kravitz was injured in the final battle against the Hunger’s armies, it was Prince Taako who held the line, and was unmoved in the face of their power. For this, he became known during his reign as Prince Taako the Steadfast, though over the years his long-time connection with Lady Istus was cited as evidence to his improbable marriage and ascension to the throne being an act of Providence, and in many secret circles he was referred to as Prince Taako the Blessed.

Upon his abdication from the throne in the thirtieth year of his reign, Prince Taako and King Kravitz were succeeded by the former’s sister, Queen Lup and Prince Barold, whose daughter, Queen Lilliana, finally dissolved the monarchy in the twelfth year of her reign, thus ending the Faerun’s royal line forever, and ushering the world into a new era of peace and equality.

From: Faerun: A History by Lucretia Moreau, published 538 T.E.

*~*~*~*~*

BIG Thank you to @fandomsnstuff and @her-biness who helped me with this for a Long Time. The little cameo of the blupjeans baby belongs to @lillianabluejeans, and the last name from Lucretia is taken from one of my favorite fics, Bureau of Badass on ao3, by Chemicallywrit and miceenscene.

Bonus points will be given to those who notice the 500 references in here to various adaptations of the cinderella story :)

#taz balance #taakitz #blupjeans #taako taaco #lup taaco #kravitz #barry bluejeans #my writiting #my fic stuff #cinderella au #Thank you for making it all the way to the end #likes charge reblogs cast #(aka if u liked it pls pass it on for me :)))

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bigmeatymudcrabchitins · 4 years ago

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A not-so-brief overview of my Skyrim Dova OCs bc i need to scream to the digital void about my ideas

Freyora Lind, more commonly known by her strange alias “Bjorne Icepick”

A Nord-eventually-turned-werewolf who orphaned during the Great War and taken in by a Dunmeri mercenary whose residence was in Windhelm’s Gray Quarter. Grew up in a cramped boarding house setting among desperate mercenaries of varying backgrounds. Many of them would all come and go, but there was always some sort of a familial bond between them all.

From a young age she got in a lot of fights against people who insulted her for living in the Gray Quarter among the dark elves. Eventually she took a fight too far and was jailed for murder around 14, but was broken out shortly after by a band of masked vampires. Turns out some of her mercenary comrades unwittingly caught vampirism during a contract to clear out a vampire den and had to skip town, but not before ensuring one of their own wasn’t left to rot.

Lived in Cyrodil for about 15 years, but returned to Skyrim pursuing rumors surrounding a cure to vampirism, as her adoptive father would be nearing the end of his elven lifespan and had wished to die a normal death.

Seeing as she was literally a fugitive, and her long-belated parents were somewhat renowned for their battlefield prowess, she took on a false identity. AND an act to match it.

She’ll eat raw meat, chase prey with swords instead of using a bow like a normal person, harp about irrational conspiracy theories, and more. Everyone’s foul reactions to her outlandish act are plainly hilarious to her and only encourage her to act even stranger.

The alias “Bjorne Icepick” was simply the most ridiculous name she could think of.

Not the most morally outstanding. Besides drunken brawling, she’ll steal from anyone who angers her, even if it’s things she literally won’t ever need such as all the goblets in a household. It’s the pettiness that counts. “Try drinking your damn high-end wine now, jackass.”

Calls Dwarven Automatons “Gundams.” Including she herself, no one knows what that means.

Joins the Companions out of homesickness and a desire to fill in a gap that leaving home left.

Hasn’t bothered curing herself of lycanthropy because her whole schtick is being incredibly resourceful, and that includes using any means of power necessary. Still doesn’t fancy Hircine’s Hunting Grounds as her desired afterlife, though.

As her journey goes on, however, her lightheartedly eccentric face starts to fall off as a number of events push her to begin to question the legitimacy of her actions up until that point.

Some of which include the eventual death of her adoptive father (and how she was indirectly responsible for it even if it was what he wanted), Delphine’s ultimatum, the civil war as a collective, learning the tragic history behind the Falmer and the original Companions’ role in it, and killing of Vyrthur (no matter how much he genuinely deserved it).

She grows disgusted by herself down to the core. She takes to skooma to cope, and starts to be plagued by serious skooma-induced side effects. She ends up shutting herself away from all her responsibilities and distancing herself from her friends.

Does she get better? Maybe. I haven’t thought up anything past this point lol

Moureneris Alta

A very, VERY ancient vampiric snow elf, (though it’s notable she was born a considerable amount of time after the razing of Sarthaal)

Survived many atrocities. Stayed in isolation with a band of vampires for countless years out of sheer disgust for the nature of the sapient races. (I’ll explain her full story some other time. It’s pretty complicated)

She was abducted from her isolated lifestyle by a certain person i’ll talk about later. She managed to free herself south of Skyrim, and uh, walks right into that Imperial ambush. The rest is history.

Super ignorant to modern society as a result of centuries of isolation. Exploited for comedic relief. (“What in the name of Oblivion is a Cyrodilic Empire? Are you messing with me? And please, how does levitation magic simply get outlawed by this hypothetical Empire? What are you to do when you fall down a crevice? Just... let yourself perish? How degrading.)

She reintegrated herself into society with vengeance in mind under the belief that all humans are savage bloodlusting murderers who had to answer for their treachery. (And she was royally angry there was no Dwemer left to spite, but partially satisfied at the same time). But she grows conflicted after being shown genuine kindness, even as early as being freed from her binds in Helgen.

Subsequently has a very muddled redemption arc. Queue Dragonborn hero stuff

She has impaired vision, but she cultivated detect life magic to aid her in daily life and combat (think Hyakkimaru from Dororo ‘19 and his soul detection or Toph Beifong from ATLA and her seismic sense). At her peak, she can detect life from about a kilometer away.

She can just barely read, but only if she holds the text incredibly close to her face, not to mention her Cyrodilic lessons were left unfinished after her abduction, making reading a very taxing process. Weary travelers are often spooked at the sight of a floating, ghastly looking elven woman with her nose pressed up against crossroad signs, and it has become somewhat of an urban legend.

Isn’t as nearly as skilled with detecting the dead and tenses up in burial crypts or around other vampires for that reason. Unfortunately, being the Dragonborn and all, she finds herself in a lot of crypts...

When questioned about her background due to her unique appearance: “Oh, yeah. My mother was one of those mer from the east. You know the ones. Dark elves, I think? And my father was one of those er, tall elv- no, sorry, HIGH elves. Yeah. They both died in a big fire or something though. It was horrible. I can’t get the noxious smell or the deafening screams out of my head. Good talk, but never ask me about that again.”

Queue sheltered old immortal antics: “Wow, you’re THAT old? Enlighten me on how it felt witnessing the fall of the Dwemer. Or perhaps the rise of Tiber Septim’s Empire. The Gates of Ob-“ “Oblivion if I know. I lived in someone’s basement for thousands of years. And I still don’t know what everyone means by Empire. You all are messing with me, aren’t you? That really annoys me.”

She ultimately returns to faith in Auri-El and makes it her life’s purpose to help the Betrayed find peace, as well as to seek out any remaining snow elf groups. Probably good friends with Gelebor or something.

Had a crush on Serana. We all know how THAT went. Damned temples.

Was originally gonna spiral into a much darker corruption arc (another ATLA comparison being Jet or Hama) but I just felt bad for her. Moureneris can have a little found peace. As a treat.

That’s her preliminary design made. I’ll need a mod to properly play her, because that right there was made by choosing Dunmer as her race. But I can’t do that. I’m on console, and while I got the Steam port a month ago, my PC’s stone age specs can’t handle Skyrim yet and I’ll need to wait until I can afford a better graphics card (thanks economic inflation)

Alexandre Armasi, jokingly nicknamed Alexandre the Curious

A complete and unapologetic export of my character from a dead and unfinished DND campaign. Except there are no Aasimar in Skyrim, so he’s half Altmer half Bosmer. And his initial last name was Armas but I thought Armasi suited his Skyrim counterpart more, as subtle a change it is.

He’s mainly Bosmer in appearance and constitution, save for his hair and eyes, which are more similar to that of his Altmeri father’s.

I can’t really export his original backstory though because the campaign wouldn’t translate well into TES lore at all.

He’s a writer who came wandering into Skyrim in search of inspiration. While he mainly writes dramatic fables, he wanted to divert his focus to crafting his own bestiary and herbal compendium surrounding Skyrim’s fauna and flora. The ones at home are simply too vague to him!

He’s very altruistic, wishing to spread cheer wherever he goes, through the art of song (even though he was a cleric in DND and not a bard. My bad.) However, many of his verses are just blatant self promotions of his published fables.

But he’s too naive for his own good. Dangerously so. In fact, he says what’s on his mind with little forethought, with little grasp on the consequences of his actions, which lands him in lots of trouble. “I don’t favor him myself, but you guys kill people over Talos worship? That’s not very cool. A bit scary, if you ask me.” or “A Stormcloak rebel? Didn’t your leader kill a bunch of Reachmen rebels years back, or so I’ve heard. By the divines that’s not a man I’d make a symbol of nonconformity.”

He’s also insatiably curious. The type to ACTUALLY shove alchemic ingredients in his mouth with no knowledge of their properties, experiment with dangerous rune spells, throw rocks at pressure plates, and more. Needless to say he’s very accident prone.

Doesn’t know common curse words. People exploit this for laughs. Think that episode of Spongebob.

Everyone is a little baffled that HE of all people is the prophesied Dragonborn of legend. This agonizingly imbecilic writer who has absentmindedly wandered into burial crypts, troll dens, bandit forts, and more, too busy juggling his manuscripts to pay attention to his surroundings.

His past doesn’t exactly reflect his outlook on life. His mother and father fought in the Great War aligned with the Imperials despite their elven background. Both managed to live to see the war’s conclusion, but his father vanished without a trace shortly after, and it seems his mother knows something she won’t tell him.

With plenty of exposure to bad influences, his innocence is slowly lost throughout the course of his journey, and his altruism begins to grow twisted. But nevertheless, he maintains his jovial, social persona, except this time with much darker undertones. Kinda like a creepy dentist or something.

Whoops. He winds up becoming a feared Dark Brotherhood assassin. (Haha get it “Innocence Lost”???) He somehow deluded himself into thinking that the life of an assassin was the right thing to do. But he’s a funky little guy so he gets a pass for his heinous crimes against society

#skyrim #skyrim oc #dragonborn #dovahkiin

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zoya-nazyalantsov · 4 years ago

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Pirates of The True Sea Chapter 1

(pirates of the carribbean inspired zoyalai fic lmao)

Nikolai Lantsov, aka Sturmhond, has a problem. Cursed by the fearsome pirate, Morozova, Nikolai must seek the one treasure that can cast out his demon: The Sun Summoner.

Zoya Nazyalensky wants power. Aboard Morozova’s ship of extremely questionable morals, she joins him in a quest to search for an object of legends that bring power to all who wield it.

As Nikolai and Zoya’s search for the mythical Sun Summoner endures, time pressures them both into an uneasy alliance, one that leads to sword fights, betrayal, small science, and… romance? Of course not, that would be ridiculous.

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29546391

“To the gallows with this filthy pirate!” announced the governor who hovered waspishly above the crowd. His bulbous nose and ballooning figure glared down from the balcony to said pirate.

“Privateer, actually,” said Nikolai Lantsov with a tight voice as he struggled against the coarse rope that burned around his neck. Death by hanging was not the way any pirate should go, especially one as respected as Sturmhond. Stormchaser. Prince of the Seas. Demon Prince. He had many names, but that was beside the point. The gallows were no respectable place to die, especially not with a murderous demon trapped inside one’s heart.

Release me. Nikolai felt the creature stir inside the chambers of his chest, scratching lightly at the sinew and muscle.

No. He knew that if the monster was released, it would kill everyone in the square. He glanced around quickly, estimating about one hundred people. One hundred people were waiting for him to break like a pathetic little twig. Unfortunately, the monster knew this as well and he felt it grin. His traitorous heart jumped as the claws tightened around it.

Let me take control and I can save us. I can save you, it said. Nikolai gritted his teeth, ignoring the call of darkness and evil.

I hate you. At this, the demon smiled.

I am the pirate and the pirate is me, Sobachka.

“Any last words, Sturmhond?” growled the executioner. Trying to remain human, Nikolai answered thoughtfully, banishing any indication of a curse out of his mind. He missed the cerulean waters, the taste of fine liquor, and the salty smell of the ship. His undignified week in the cellars had dulled his golden skin and his disguised red hair became almost a reddish gold. Not to mention it left him smelling like old rainwater left to dry in a stable cleaned with manure. It was not one of his finer moments.

“Got any kvas?” he asked and was silently thankful to hear a few snickers from the crowd. “I’m rather parched.”

“Argh.” spat the executioner at his feet. Nikolai spotted several gnats and mosquitoes caught in his gnarled peppery beard. “Death to the pirate then,” he said, placing his hand on the lever. Nikolai felt the anticipation of the people and prayed to his Saints.

I didn’t think it would end like this. Nikolai closed his eyes, waiting for the snap of the lever and the subsequent snap of his neck.

Suddenly the executioner cried out in pain and a shriek followed from somewhere among the masses. Nikolai’s eyes shot open and he was met with two stormy blue eyes. The figure was hooded, dressed in black and gold, flew across the platform wielding a silver sword. The mysterious savior struck down the executioner with swift ease. Nikolai watched wildly as the townspeople darted like guppies to avoid the falling bodies of soldiers onto the square. He took in a sharp inhale as the feral eyes of the stranger faced him, sword raised over their hooded head. He forced himself not to flinch as the figure sliced the sword over him, severing the rope that suspended him in two.

Nikolai dropped to his knees, gagging, and felt a small but firm hand grip his shoulder. He was free. The figure jerked him to his feet and thrust a sword into his hand. He grabbed his hat back from a petrified soldier and placed it upon his head.

“I’ll take that back, thank you,” he said. He took off sprinting along with the figure, boots slapping against the cobblestone street. He set his gaze ahead to the ocean, the only place he’d ever known freedom. The path was clear and straight.

“You’re coming with me, Sturmhond.” said a smooth, feminine voice from under the veil. Nikolai squinted closer at her robes as she dragged him running through the town. A patch was sewn onto the sleeve: an eclipsed sun. The dreaded symbol of Aleksander Morozova. A mix of fear and disgust rolled through him and he snatched his arm away from his captor.

“What does Morozova want with me?” he hissed, running towards the docks. He glanced back to find an angry group of soldiers chasing them. “That wretched pirate was the one who got me caught in the first place!” he exclaimed. The figure’s hood fell during their escape, revealing a mass of dark tresses and healthy brown skin. Her bright eyes flashed towards him.

“Follow me and I will explain”, she said, gesturing to a gargantuan ship leaving the harbor. My ship? Nikolai blinked at the magnificent wooden ship that moved quickly towards the open waters. The crazy woman tracked down my ship. The deck of the Kingfisher called to him like the call of the open sea. He spotted the frantic waves of his crew, shouting and howling at him.

They raced towards the dock, dodging and deflecting the stray bullets that flew around them. The rotted wood creaked under his feet as he approached the Kingfisher. The woman jumped with effortless strength and grabbed the rope that dangled patiently from the side of the ship.

“Come aboard, Sturmhond!” cried a scar-faced woman with red hair. Nikolai brightened at the sight of her. Genya. She threw down a second rope and he grabbed a hold of it, pulling himself up.

“Let this be a lesson to you all,” he shouted triumphantly to the soldiers who gaped at him from the edge of the dock. “No governor alive can ever catch the great Sturmhond!”

“Curse you, Sturmhond!” shouted the Governor with a fat fist thrust into the air. One curse is enough to deal with, Governor, he thought bitterly. He laughed as he swung himself onto the deck and tipped his hat in the direction of the reddening Governor. He landed gracefully in front of the woman who saved him, face hardening into a mask with ease.

“Now what to do with you?” he contemplated aloud. “You who wear the colors of Morozova.” The woman faced him defiantly, unbothered at his words.

“Peace, Sturmhond,” she said. She cast off the black robe, uncovering a weathered blue kefta. Typical. Morozova’s whole crew was made up of people like her. The most powerful grisha flocked to him like how sailors were lured by sirens. He promised them riches and power and worst of all, they always believed him. Nikolai was thankful for his band of grisha that knew the truth. Some had even escaped the clutches of Morozova’s ship, The Merzost, like Genya and David.

“Stormwitch,” murmured someone among the crew.

“Stormwitch indeed,” he echoed, folding his arms. “What is your business in saving me from a most unfortunate fate?” he asked with curiosity. “Not that I’m ungrateful, of course, but I do wonder…” He leaned closer, awaiting her answer. A slight crease formed between his brows upon studying her expression. She seemed bored. Bored? We just escaped flying bullets without a scratch and the woman is bored?

“I escaped from the pirate Morozova and went to find the greatest pirate in the True Sea. I followed whispers, rumors, stories, all to find that the great Sturmhond is hanging from a noose on some obscure island in the south,” she said with disdain. You have your former captain to thank for that. But of course, he couldn’t say that. One more person who knew about the curse was another person who knew of a weakness he possessed. “Obviously your reputation precedes you. Apologies if I’m a bit disappointed,” she added. Nikolai felt a sense of tension stir within the crew. He saw his friends, Tolya and Tamar, place a cautious hand on their respective weapons.

“No, no,” he said, forcing an easy smile on his face. “I apologize for not living up to your expectations Miss…”

“Nazyalensky. Zoya Nazyalensky,” she replied sourly.

“Miss Nazyalensky. I swear I’ll spend the rest of your stay on this ship making it up to you. Sturmhond guarantee.” he said, throwing in a wink. Zoya rolled her eyes but he didn’t miss the slight lift in the corner of her mouth. Interesting. He walked to the upper deck, her piercing gaze trailing his movements. The wind rustled his red locks as he placed his hand on the wooden steering wheel, painted with chipped gold. “So you’re looking to join my crew I suppose?”

“Yes,” she said. “Morozova has grown power-hungry and mad. I will serve no evil madman.” She seemed disgusted as she said his name and Nikolai knew how she felt. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.

“Who said I wasn’t mad, darling?” he joked. His crew laughed along with him. “No worries, we are not evil here.”

I would say otherwise, said the demon.

“And what do you have to offer us?” chimed in young Ivan.

“Yeah!”

Zoya whipped around towards the crew which recoiled at the movement. They’re scared of her, aren’t they, thought Nikolai. She looked wild, standing in the middle of the ship with her ebony hair whipping in the breeze. A wide berth had formed around her, leaving a large clearing between her and the rest of the crew.

“What can I offer you?” she said, a small smile on her beautiful face. “The winds belong to me.” she declared, closing her eyes. A gust of air rocked the ship, rustling the creamy white sails. The sailors on deck made sudden grabs for the nearest steady object as dark waves churned around them. Nikolai, however, made a point to stand his ground. He planted his hands at his sides, fingers digging into the fabric of his coat. Zoya lifted off the deck like a saint ascending to the heavens. She opened her eyes, glowing a deep royal blue. “I am the Stormwitch.” Power. The woman was raw power, both literally and figuratively. Nikolai clapped politely when she finished.

“Thank you for that lovely demonstration, Nazyalensky,” he said, leaning onto the railing of the balcony. “But we’re missing one important question.” He let his words linger in the air for a moment. “It’s perhaps the most important question of all, the one that will determine whether you stay on this ship or not.” He forced his eyes away from Zoya, who looked at him with a sense of utter disbelief. He studied his nails, ignoring the muffled laughs from his crew.

“Spit it out, Sturmhond,” she said with some annoyance.

“Why should we trust you?” he asked.

“You can’t,” she said. Nikolai let out a hearty laugh.

“I’m not sure you’re helping your case,” he said. He narrowed his eyes at the girl, standing in her cerulean robes.

“I’m simply being honest, Sturmhond,” she said. She smirked slightly as if she knew he’d already decided upon her future with the ship. “An honest pirate is hard to come by these days. And I believe that I am worth my weight in gold.” Saints, she was good. Perhaps it would be interesting to have her aboard. She was a curiosity, a mere person of interest. Yes, that was it.

“Let me consult with my colleagues,” he said. “Genya, David, Tolya, and Tamar, if you would meet with me here please?” He nudged open a mahogany door behind him that led to the captain’s quarters. The four of his friends followed him inside.

It was just as he left it. A messy pile of maps was scattered across his simple wooden desk like sand on a beach. He eyed the numerous swords leaning against the wall and picked up his favorite: a silver sword with a violet gemstone embedded into the pommel. It was a gift from a fellow pirate, a much better one than he was. He knew the Wraith was out there somewhere, being a hero to those in need.

“I say to let her stay,” said Genya, tying back her flaming red curls. “She came to us with a way to get you out of the gallows after we’d been struggling for weeks. Granted, she didn’t reveal herself to us.” Tolya and Tamar nodded, although they exchanged a worried glance.

“I agree with Genya,” said David while Tamar rolled her eyes.

“Oh, of course, you do!” she said. “Nikolai, I’m not saying she has to leave, I’m wondering if we can trust her.” Nikolai palmed the sword in his hand, considering her words. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t wondering the same. Zoya Nazyalensky’s sudden appearance and motives were not as she presented them to be, that much was obvious. She could have let him swing for all she cared. And the part about him being the ‘greatest pirate in the True Sea’ was all just flattery, as much as his ego denied it. The woman was playing a game and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be part of it.

“Tolya?” he asked.

“Let her stay,” he said in a low voice. “And if she tries anything she’ll face the consequences.”

“Alright,” said Nikolai. “Seems like we’ve made our decision.” He replaced the sword back on the wall and turned to the door, bursting through. The crews’ eyes snapped up to him. He made his way down to the lower deck, stopping just in front of Zoya. Her face was fixed into a frown, her lovely blue eyes boring into his. It was as if she dared him to refuse her passage aboard the ship. She possessed the passion, skills, and nerve it took to be a good pirate. And her abilities as a grisha could come in handy on his search for the Sun Summoner now that he was free. Nikolai met her with a confident smile.

“Well then Nazyalensky,” he said, pausing for dramatic effect. “Welcome aboard the Kingfisher.” He extended a rough scarred hand out from his teal pirate coat. Her hand clasped his and the deal was done.

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pinkykitten · 5 years ago

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The time in Summervale: 1

Warning: none

Specifics: y/n=your name, oc, oc fic, comedy

People: athela (your mother), edward (your father), huxley (cook), ruthy (maid)

Words: 1,438

Summary: In the fictional land of Summervale, 1700, you, the Duchess are made into an arranged marriage.This is the dream of your parents but certainty not the dream of a longing inventor like yourself. You are taught to be a lady but who wants to be a primp and proper lady when you can have fun and be yourself. You need to try to convince your parents this is not what you want or is it? How will it be seeing the Prince of Linwyn? Will you finally change your mind and side with your parents?

Authors Note: this is something newwwwww. ive been wanting to do kinda my own thing for a while so this is not on any fandom this is a story i will be updating with chapters about my characters but in a x reader way if that makes sense so its still gonna use you and such just this is my own story. i got inspiration off of this story “the austrian suitor” by @headoverhiddles, granted i dont know the character or the fandom i just read it cuz another blog reblogged it yet i rlly enjoyed it even tho it is smut and im not usually a smut reader just kinda skip that or whatever either way it was extremely well written and gave me such inspiration like wowowowowow. so i made this piece inspired by that and i hope you guys like it. this is just kinda an opening to the whole thing and to kinda see how it works out so there is not any romance in this but trust me there will be but like i said i want to see how this goes if yall like if u do pls tell me tell me what u think ur thoughts everything i worked rlly hard on this so pls share like reblog do what you gotta do it would me a lot to me. thnx guys <3

“Maybe this piece goes here,” you mumbled to yourself. An action you always did but it was something your mother hated. Sitting atop your bed you concentrated your efforts in inventing a mixer that did its job on its own. Call it a hobby or a dream but inventing was your world. You loved the satisfaction of creating something with your own two hands especially if it helped people. Unfortunately, your parents the Prince and Princess of Summervale did not approve. They called it very unladylike. Your mother, Athela, would scold you about getting messy and dirty and then throw you in the tub like a little child. Your father, Edward, was always forcing you to learn how to seam. His mother used to do it and he wanted to pass it down to you. Those things didn’t excite you, didn’t make you complete. Inventing was something you loved and was always thinking about. As you would look at an apple tree during your morning stroll you would wonder about what inventions would be good for peeling apples whilst your parents bored you with duties as a Duchess.

“Almost done,” you screwed on the last screw to your creation. You had dirt under your nails and they were short and barely ever polished, only for special occasions. Your hair was almost every time how it was meant to be. None of those gels, ties, bows, again only for special occasions. Your mother, Athela, would buy you all these face creams, soaps, masks, but you were content with your scars and bumps, naming them every so often after royals, saying your “face was a castle and there should definitely be Queens and Kings roaming on it.” You were odd and different to others but to yourself you were this boring, normal, royal girl that everyone hated because you were granted everything you could ever want. Life was not that simple though. Sometimes when you have everything handed to you - all the money in the world - it still doesn’t fill up that hollow feeling inside or take away the sadness. It was something to help people cope but it was never the antidote.

“Alright...finished. What do you think Karim?” You hastily got out of bed and sat on the floor presenting your mixer to your pug. One very lovely vacation you took with your family you had learn a bit of Arabic. It was a beautiful language and you had made many friends there. You named your dog Karim meaning generous. Karim was generous, he was the only one who would look at your inventions. “Do you think it will work?” You gave a toothy grin, excited.

Karim grunted as he licked his nose, panting.

“I knew you would like it,” patting his head you jump up ready to show not just your parents but also the cooks. You had a very good feeling about this one. Every time you made an invention you had hope that maybe your parents would change their minds about your future but every occurrence was the same.

“Mother, father! Come look!” You yelled as you sprinted down the stairs not caring if your nightgown would get dirty sweeping across the floors of the castle. “Come quick!”

“What in the heavens is the matter my dear child?” Edward, your father, grumbled seeing you in such a hurry.

“See, father, in the kitchen.”

“In the kitchen?”

You passed by your mother, she tried to catch you but you slipped from her grip. “Young Lady why are you not dressed and groomed properly? You look like a mess.”

“Doesn’t matter, mother in this moment time is of the essence!” You arrived at the kitchen and grabbed a blue glass bowl, plopping it with a loud clank on the counter top.

“What are you doing y/n?” The cook asked. “You almost broke me bowl!” He was a plump older man, very short. His hair was salt and pepper and his face was as white as flour yet his cheeks were always red.

“Forgive me Huxley I just need to know. Need to see and dive deep into the unknown.” You opened up a recipe card that Huxley wrote down for your favorite cake. Vanilla cake, you were a simple girl. “Alright I need eggs and flour and oh yes milk! Almost forgot about the milk!” You were talking to yourself again as you ran around the kitchen like a mad woman.

“Is this another one of your inventions?” Huxley crossed his arms knowing about your obsession.

“Yes but my dear good old Huxley-”

“Old?” He lifted his brow.

“No time to explain, I have a tingling within me. This one is going to be it, I know it. Mother and father will finally see and believe in me.” You poured all the ingredients in the bowl. Your parents walked in, perplexed.

“Hello everyone. Today I show you something I have been working on the for the past week. I am very proud of myself but any who let me show you my newest invention-”

“Oh here we go again?” Athela rolled her eyes.

“The mixer!” You lifted it high in the air. “This mixer will not only mix greatly and fine it will mix to your acquired speed. Please watch.” You pulled the lever three times and then pushed the big button. The mixer turned on automatically with it squeaking from the gears. “As you can see the mixer is mixing all the ingredients together. No more of the hassle of blistered hands or tired arms, this does it for you! You can even look away and do other chores in the midst.” You turned around and your creation you thought so high about was creating smoke and making an odd sound.

“Um y/n,” Edward said, “is it supposed to do that?”

“Huh,” you turned to it again and all of a sudden the mixer started to go faster in speed. “Oh no.” The mixer then flew high in the air and starting to spin around like a mini airplane.

“Get down!” Huxley shouted and everyone in the room screamed in fear or bent down hiding under tables and items.

“Its alright everyone! Just a little mistake!” You climbed onto the tables trying to fetch the item. “Blasted thing.” You jumped onto the counter and caught it making it stop. Until it started to mix again and it caught a piece of your hair. You screamed loud and tried running away but hit the bowl of cake mix making it hurl in the air on top of your head making you slip from the batter onto your back. The mixer finally stopped. You groaned knowing you were about to hear it from your parents.

Athela stood up with a scowl on her face. “To your room. Now!”

You sat at your vanity disappointed with yourself. You had worked so hard on the mixer and had embarrassed yourself. Athela was standing next to you, glaring. Karim was laying in his bed munching on a treat and your maid Ruthy tended to your hair.

“I cannot believe you chose to do this on a day like today. Of all days!” Your mother was furious. Her gloved hands were held into fists. “You were supposed to be ready!”

“I know. I’m sorry mother.” In the end you always apologized even though you really hadn’t meant it. You hated when your mother was right especially about inventing. You always wanted to prove her wrong but it ended in outright disappointment.

“Look at this hair now.” Athela lifted the piece of hair that was wrapped around the mixer. “Can you save it Ruthy?”

Ruthy bit her lip as she heaved a sigh, “I’m sorry your Royal Highness it is very tangled I must cut it off.”

“Oh my! Are you sure?”

Ruthy nodded.

“Today of all days,” Athela repeated herself. “How will your future husband think of you now?”

“What?” You asked and then all was heard was a snip as Ruthy cut that one lock of hair.

“Make sure you take that disgusting batter out of her hair.” Athela pointed to your scalp.

“Mother what are you talking about?” You stood up throwing your precious now broken mixer onto your desk.

“My dear didn’t you not fall just mere minutes ago in that vanilla goop?”

“Thats not what I meant and you know it. I am asking about what you said about a future husband. What did you mean by that?”

Athela rubbed your shoulders up and down and broke into a huge smile. “My dear you are getting married!”

Tag list: @harrington-lover, @angelgl16, @perfectlybeautifulsuit, @hyehoney, @haven-prelude (wont let me tag), @leasly, @totally-alexa21, @creamy-pasta-boi, @multireese, @fanfictionrecommendations-com, @prentisskelley, @malereaderforkpop (wont let me tag), @guardian-of-cookies, @justafangirl-97, @teenageshitposts (wont let me tag), @dippergravity (wont let me tag), @some-booty, @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople, @collectiveyou, @wtfisalltherandoms, @dirbel, @eastcoasthaven, @fangirl-4-life415 (wont let me tag), @melonreblogsstories, @reginalinettis

wanna be tagged in my crap? comment!

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anichibicore · 5 years ago

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I made a playlist for Luke Fon Fabre!

I got bored! so! playlist for one of my favorite JRPG protags! here it is! I’m making this post bc I wanna share why I put each song and just bc I like rambling about my favorite tales game haha. I’ll leave all that under the cut tho to keep this from being super long on dashes and stuff. Well, away we go!

Track 1: Bored to Death by Blink 182 At the beginning of the game, Luke makes it clear he’s bored of being trapped inside his family’s manor and wants nothing more than to leave. I can’t point to any lyrics in particular for this choice, but I feel it fits his situation nonetheless. Track 2: Disturbia by Rihanna Luke's just killed a person for the first time ever, and he's torn up about it. His mind doesn't want to leave that fact alone. So he beats himself up over it. Once again, I can't really point to any specific lyrics for this choice, and I'm honestly starting to rethink my choices. Track 3: Field of Innocence by Evanescence Akzeriuth is destroyed. Luke feels awful. His innocence is gone, and all that's left is guilt. He just wants to go back to how things used to be. But he can't, and he's devastated. This is one of the lowest points in his life, and he doesn't know what to do. He's lost.

Where has my heart gone? An uneven trade for the real world Oh I, I want to go back to Believing in everything and knowing nothing at all

Track 4: Afraid by The Neighbourhood This song is the one that inspired this playlist, partly thanks to this post. Luke’s seeing through Asch’s eyes, he now knows he’s a replica, and he’s scared that the others will want to replace him with Asch. Especially as they make their emotions clear about Luke and his actions. But, Luke doesn’t want to be replaced. He’s hoping to get back the trust he lost. But he doesn’t know how. You're too mean, I don't like you, fuck you anyway You make me wanna scream at the top of my lungs It hurts but I won't fight you You suck anyway You make me wanna die, right when I... When I wake up I'm afraid, somebody else might take my place When I wake up I'm afraid, somebody else might take my place When I wake up I'm afraid, somebody else might take my place When I wake up I'm afraid, somebody else might end up being me Track 5: Ghost Rule by DECO*27 This is kind of a personal choice, and this is also going by Rachie’s English lyrics. I can’t point to any specific moment in Luke’s arc where this goes, but I still felt it fit him. Maybe his feelings about being a replica and feeling like his whole life is a lie. A couple of lyrics could be used to refer to his tendency to hide his feelings. Another line could be used to show his guilt over destroying Akzeriuth. I could pick this one apart for days.

I only know how to lie, I guess I really can’t dodge it this time No law to pardon my crime, no clemency for this evil of mine Things don’t look better today, the mask I wear is crumbling away Lapsing in depravity, I didn’t see what was happening to me Track 6: No One by Aly & AJ Luke’s woken up. He’s starting to think about how he’s been and decides he wants to change. He cuts his hair and promises Tear that he’s changing himself to be a better person. He still feels broken, but he’s working to fix himself. One piece at a time.

I am moving through the crowd Trying to find myself I feel like a guitar that's never played Will someone strum away? And I ask myself Who do I want to be? Do I want to throw away the key And invent a whole new me And I tell myself No one No one Don't want to be no one But me Track 7: Brave by Sara Bareilles Luke meets with Guy. His life long friend tells him that there’s only one Luke in his eyes. I feel like this song’s more Guy to Luke, hoping to motivate him to speak his mind and lift his spirits. He wants Luke to be brave. Innocence, your history of silence Won't do you any good Did you think it would? Let your words be anything but empty Why don't you tell them the truth? Say what you wanna say And let the words fall out Honestly, I wanna see you be brave Track 8: This is Me by Kealla Settle (from The Greatest Showman)

Luke nearly died but he came back, and he feels better than ever. He feels alive. It’s funny how finding out you’re slowly dying makes you appreciate the life you have. Still, Luke feels like he can take on anything. And he’s not going to let any of his emotional baggage slow him down now. When the sharpest words wanna cut me down I'm gonna send a flood, gonna drown them out I am brave, I am bruised I am who I'm meant to be, this is me Look out 'cause here I come And I'm marching on to the beat I drum I'm not scared to be seen I make no apologies, this is me Track 9: Fight Song by Rachel Platten This ties into the previous track a bit, with Luke’s feeling of strength, like he can take on anything. He’s got a lot left in him, and like hell he’ll go down without a fight. This is my fight song Take back my life song Prove I'm alright song My power's turned on Starting right now I'll be strong I'll play my fight song And I don't really care if nobody else believes 'Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me Track 10: She’s So Gone by Naomi Scott (from Lemonade Mouth) Luke’s facing Asch in Eldrant for the final time, and he’s going to prove to Asch that he’s a different person now. He’s his own person, and the fact he’s a replica won’t change that. This fight likely means more to Luke than to Asch. Luke’s going to prove Asch is wrong about him. One way or another. Insecure In her skin Like a puppet, a girl on a string Broke away Learned to fly If you want her back gotta let her shine So it looks like the joke's on you 'Cause the girl that you thought you knew She's so gone That's so over now She's so gone You won't find her around You can look but you won't see The girl I used to be 'Cause she's She's so gone Track 11: This Life is Mine by Jeff Williams and Casey Lee Williams (from RWBY) This song could be any point after Van betrays Luke, tells him he was using him, discards him, anything really. Luke looks back on how Van controlled him, had him essentially wrapped around his finger, and swears he’s going to make him pay and put an end to all he’s been planning for all these years.

Amazing how you conquered me Chained me in servility And made me see The world the way you told me to But I was young and didn't have a Way to know the truth Born to live your legacy Existing just to fill your needs A casualty of this so-called "family" That you have turned into a travesty But I don't intend to suffer any longer Here's where your dominion falls apart I'm shattering the mirror That kept me split in pieces That stood between my mind and my heart This is where I'll start I'm not your pet Not another thing you own I was not born guilty of your crimes Your riches and your influence Can't hold me anymore I won't be possessed Burdened by your royal test I will not surrender This life is mine! Track 12: Angel With a Shotgun by The Cab The battle against Van has begun. Luke and Tear work together to take down the man they had been so close to for years, and while each second is painful for them, they know there’s no other choice. Luke will free Lorelei once all is said and done and that will be the end of it. Nothing else matters to him right now. I'm an angel with a shotgun Fighting til' the wars won I don't care if heaven won't take me back

Track 13: Home by Daughtry Luke’s freed Lorelei, he and Asch have joined with Lorelei, and the world is saved. His friends all miss him, and on his coming of age ceremony, Tear is singing alone in Tataroo Valley. The rest of Luke’s friends join her, and as they mourn their lost friend, a figure appears in the distance. A figure that resembles Luke. He’s come home. I'm going home Back to the place where I belong And where your love has always been enough for me I'm not running from No, I think you got me all wrong I don't regret this life I chose for me But these places and these faces are getting old So I'm going home Well, I'm going home

Track 14: Shape My Heart by Eyeshine

I didn’t add this one until after I made this post (I’m editing this post to include it) but this is another general one and not one i added bc the singer of this band was johnny yong bosch i swear. It’s the party to Luke because he unintentionally helped some of them change the way they view the world, even if it was only a little bit. His presence made things just a little bit better.

You take our pain away

You make our world okay

You shape our hearts so we can feel what love is

You take our hate away

#Tales of the Abyss #tales of series #character playlist #tota spoilers #luke fon fabre #long post #aniposts

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slytherin-puffskein · 5 years ago

Text

Cinderella

« Au douzième coup de minuit, le charme sera rompu, et tout redeviendra comme avant. »

[ At the stroke of midnight, the spell will be broken, and everything will be as before. ]

In this twisted version of the popular fairy tale, a very special mission is given to young peasant Laurent King, by an even more special individual. A smile on her blood coloured lips, the Fairy Godmother orders him to go and kill the Prince.

Inspired from this song

Though I’m dancing in a dream, nothing is quite as it seems Everything will disappear at midnight’s chime Fingers calling me away, there’s no room to be afraid Down the winding staircase I take three steps at a time...

Everything feels hazy and blurry around Laurent, and he can barely make out his surroundings. The dagger stuffed deep inside his inner pocket, he bites on his lip, unsure of what to do once he arrives

( easy mission ? Yeah, didn’t think so. That Fairy surely sugarcoated a lot of things )

But no matter how crude she could have made it sound instead, he would have accepted anyway. Royalty is society’s flea, and if he had the opportunity to get rid of it, then so be it.

As he nears the castle in his beautiful, silvery carriage, he can’t help but shiver, and when the guards gesture him to follow them, he does, doing his best to ignore his heart slamming against his chest.

( why would I feel conflicted about this ? )

Beyond the carriage door, I saw you trembling Won’t you please set aside the burdens of life and come with me to the dance ?

Barnaby Lee is observing as guests make their way inside, and he easily spots the silver carriage pulled by beautiful white horses.

( so beautiful, they almost feel like straight out of the most creative child’s dreams )

Inside, he spots a shaky figure, and doesn’t think much of it. After all, this is a ball. Obviously a lot of people feel anxious.

“Search and find the one who has wronged us.” Your whispered words are still echoing I grip even tighter the weapon held in my hands as I plot to bring your ending Slowly all the orphans are gathering under my watch behind my smiling mask And I, as the seraph, welcome them in my wings, as I play the role of saviour

Laurent King can still think of the ( w i t c h ) Godmother’s words. ‘Look for him, think of all the things his family did, and finish him at last’

The Lee Royal family couldn’t be considered as the best. Not with the current King, who could only be described as a bloodthirsty tyrant who would do everything in his power to reach his goals.

Rumour is, he got people executed for not sharing his ideologies.

Luckily, Laurent had learned how to lay low, and how to go unnoticed. Like that, no way he would get hanged for hating the monarchy.

Nervously, he feels through his pocket the weapon sheathed inside, and finds himself letting out a sigh of relief. With that, he almost considers himself as invincible. He just needs to get the prince away from everyone, and quietly do his business. Quietly, Laurent steps into the ballroom at last, and stares at all of the guests and their false expressions of happiness. In all honesty, they probably all hate the King as much as Lau, but simply want to enjoy a good time as well as some dancing, so they pretend to like him.

And in the middle of all these guests, stands the Prince, bowing gently at people and seemingly complimenting them, a charming smile on his face.

( Pft. You probably only see them as rats that need to disappear. How hypocritical )

Melting down to flakes of ash, Within a crimson glow Your slipper made of glass

Shoes with bits of glass. The Fairy said it was charming. Lau would rather say they looked terrible... but if it was going to please the Prince and ultimately make him trust him, then he can endure wearing an ugly pair of shoes.

Like a snake, he circles around his prey, thinking of the best way to speak to him, to lure him. An elaborate red mask on his face, it will be quite easy for the Prince to notice him. A few guests decided to wear masks as well for show, but none of them stand out as much as Laurent’s.

Eventually, it works. He is noticed. Barnaby sees the weak glint of his shoes, and smiles at him before bowing and taking his hand to kiss it.

( Ew )

“You look good, sir !”

“You said that to everyone”

He couldn’t help that snarky reply. Barnaby blushes briefly, and attempts to gather himself.

“Yeah, but... you deserve that compliment. I’ve never seen such a beautiful outfit, wow !”

A blood red vest, an ivory white shirt, he almost looks like a white rose. A white rose, somehow covered in blood.

( Prelude to what might soon happen, perhaps ? )

“Well, thank you, I supp-”

“May I have this dance ?”

Barnaby himself hadn’t planned to ask this, and once he says those words, he immediately turns paper white as he thinks of what his father might think of this.

( ‘You ? Dancing with a mere commoner ? Ri-di-cu-lous !’ )

However, Lau sees in this the perfect opportunity to carry out his plan, and nods while forcing a smile.

“Gladly, your Royal Highness”

A blush creeps across Barnaby’s face as he nervously wraps an arm around Lau’s waist, dragging him into a waltz.

“Oh p-please, just call me Barnaby. All those titles give me a headache...”

“Shouldn’t you be used to them by now ?”

Despite the mission he has, he can’t help but feel curious, and Barnaby only shrugs.

“I suppose... but... I never really asked to be a Prince, you know ?”

Sometimes, the Castle just doesn’t feels right for him... and Lau raises an eyebrow as Barnaby makes him twirl.

( Whoever taught him how to dance is an extremely good teacher )

“Still, with the privileges you have, I wouldn’t be whining if I were at your place”

The fortune Barnaby owns must be unimaginable, and Lau couldn’t even dare consider owning that much money. Swiftly, he finds himself against Barnaby’s chest once again.

“Yeah, but... it’s like there’s a wall between me and the rest of the kingdom, you know ?”

( Why am I confiding to a stranger !? Why am I telling all of this ? Father will sooo kill me )

And yet... talking to his guy with fiery hair is so thrilling, it feels as if magnets were embedded into their chests, and they had to be near each other at this moment.

( Destiny, perhaps ? )

“Hm... I’ve never considered it that way” Laurent admits.

“Yeah ! And the kingdom hates me for things my father did... I swear, I’m going to reform the government as soon as I take the throne ! You have my word - !”

He suddenly stops, and Lau can’t help but stare at the prince with wide eyes.

( Maybe my judgement was false ? )

“Forgive me, I’m not sure I got your name... ?” Barnaby asks at last.

Laurent bites on his lip, softly...

“Call me Dorian”

I must take my leave right now. I am shaking up and down Though I catch you glancing over at the clock... Shoes no longer on my feet - the slope is much too slippery But my fingers reach around your neck ‘fore I can stop

( I can’t do this )

( I cannot )

( It’s impossible )

( STOP IT ! )

After dancing, and talking, and dancing again, and talking again, they manage to sneak out of the ballroom, and eventually successfully arrive in Barnaby’s chambers. As they stand on the balcony, chatting and stargazing, Lau’s conflicted heart slams against his chest as he tries to figure out what to do.

He can feel the dagger press against his sides.

His mouth feels parched, his throat seems to be lined with blood.

By talking to the Prince, he discovered a whole different person from the one he had pictured himself. He wasn’t an exact copy of his ruthless father, not at all. He found a kind, understanding young man who only wanted the best for his people.

( And I have to kill him )

Why ? Why would the

w i t c h

Fairy Godmother want this ? What happened between her and the Royal Family ? Lau clears his throat before speaking.

“I should leave, Barnaby. It’s getting late...”

Close to midnight, in fact.

( ‘By midnight, my boy, the spell will no longer be under effect. Be home by midnight, and wash the blood off your clothes ! )

Barnaby reaches for Laurent, but the latter slides away, hugging himself for warmth... and comfort.

“I really have to go, Barnaby...”

But before he can order himself to leave at once, he throws his arms around Barnaby’s neck, pulling him into a deep embrace as tears trickle down his reddened face.

I kiss the falling tears that slip from your eyes And at that very moment I felt a shiver running through deep inside

Gently, Barnaby hugs him back, and musters up enough courage to kiss his tears away.

Immediately, a shiver runs down his spine, as a small voice whispers into his mind:

Run.

He doesn’t follow that piece of advice. Instead, he looks at the man pressed against him, and reaches for the mask’s strings.

Slowly unties them.

And lets the mask fall to the floor, revealing the most beautiful man Barnaby had ever seen, with freckles easily comparable to stars during a night’s sky.

“Beautiful...” he whispers faintly.

Neither of them knows who kisses the other first.

Please don’t let the bells sound for midnight, I find myself bowing down to you Although I am screaming “Don’t do it !” my right hand slips, bidding you goodbye forever You, who bears the air of such a princess, wearing the smoke of gunshots on your eyes My frozen facade was no match against your fire, and I felt it piercing through the ice

Soon midnight.

Please don’t let it be midnight.

( please )

Lau slowly pulls away from the kiss, no matter how bad he wants to keep going, and gently bows down to the prince, grabbing his mask and sliding it back on his face, tying the strings.

“I really have to go, Barnaby”

( Maybe if I just don’t do it, everything will be alright. The Fairy will find someone else to do her dirty work... or she’ll do it herself. Either way, I wouldn’t be dragged back into this story. Not anymore )

The Prince pouts, but nods anyway, as understanding as usual.

“Alright... but I’ll see you again, right ? Right ? We can meet up somewhere, I’ll try to not get recognized by other people, maybe wear a cloak or something, and we’ll spend some time together !”

And a smile curls up Lau’s lips as he nods.

“That... sounds very nice, actually”

( No it’s NOT. GO. GO, RIGHT NOW )

Barnaby smiles. The most loveliest smile, from the most handsome guy Laurent had seen.

“Alright then... but at least let me walk you back to your ca-”

( DO NOT DISOBEY ME )

The witch’s words suddenly ring inside of Lau’s ears, almost piercing his brain. Before he can realize what is happening, his right hand suddenly reaches for the dagger inside of his pocket, clutching it and

( NO !!!! )

plunging the blade through Barnaby Lee’s chest.

And at last, realization of what he just did dawns on him.

Even right now I can hear your breathing ring in my ears Pulling my heartstrings like a distant dream Down through the stained glass windows panes, the light from the moon Drapes on your shoulders like a veil

Everything in Barnaby’s mind stops.

His sole focus is the man standing in front of him.

He can barely care about the dagger digging through his chest.

He can only see Dorian Lau’s eyes. Beautiful brown.

Brown, a colour which can look like dried off blood.

Blood, trickling down Barnaby’s chest and darkening his clothes. Heavily, he falls on his knees, and Lau is quick to do the same, his fingers still wrapped around the golden hilt.

And despite what he just did, with the moonlight shedding on him, he looks as beautiful as ever.

Tear away the dress that I’m wearing - this tiara was not meant for me All that I can feel now as your eyes stare into mine is the fire in me burning Our two souls, alike in seclusion, and now they’ve found each other’s company But if I am not the one who will stop your tears, then it’s all a one-sided story

Barnaby’s lidded eyes stare at Lau’s. He’s still breathing. Not for long, however. Soon enough, he will release his last breath, and leave this oh so cruel world.

Lau finally manages to let go of the dagger, letting it stick out of Barnaby’s chest.

Silence reigns between the two. But strangely enough, Barnaby has enough strength to reach for Lau’s mask... and the redhead immediately understands. He unties it, and discards it before cupping Barnaby’s face, making him look at him.

Green eyes.

Like the leaves of a flower that will soon wilt.

“I’m sorry...” he whispers.

A heavy lump forms itself in his throat, and he is dangerously close to sob.

“I-I had to... I had to...”

“I understand”

And the Prince smiles faintly at him, before letting himself fall to the floor.

Stop the time at this very instant, I am completely drawn into you If God will have mercy then let me please stay right there, as I count your every heartbeat Overwhelmed by rushing emotions, I’m left to drown within this spreading warmth From this moment on my body will move no more... it is all just like a fairytale

#barnalau #lau king #barnaby lee #hphm #hphm mc #hogwarts mystery jacob's sibling #hogwarts mystery mc #hphm jacob's sibling #barnaby lee x mc #barnaby lee x jacob's sibling #my writing

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gerbiloftriumph · 5 years ago

Photo

Captive Crown

(also on ao3)

Someone wanted the newly crowned King of Daventry and all his friends dead. Someone got close, once.

(warnings for the whole thing: kidnapping, bruising, starvation, nightmares, healthy dosage of angsty musing, sicfic, story-coherent vehicle for all my favorite ch2 headcanons)

~*~*~

3/7

(1: to steal)(2: to hide)(3: to seek)(4: to find)(5: to break)(6: to mend)(7: to heal, and to end)

~*~*~

“Your Majesty, we’re sorry about earlier,” Royal Guard Number Three called through the door. The others stood clustered behind her, looking apprehensive.

(“He’s going to throw something at us.”)

(“He isn’t.”)

(“You didn’t see the look on his face. He absolutely will.”)

“We brought hot chocolate,” she persisted, knocking again. “After walking in the rain, we thought you might need to warm up.” Still no response. “King Graham, are you in there?” She shifted the tray from one hand to both hands and bumped the door open with her hip. Everyone huddled around her, peeking through the gap.

“He’s not there,” No4 sighed, relieved.

No3 pushed the door open all the way. The throne room was littered with socks and acorns, as they’d left it. “But it’s getting dark.” She thought about the monsoon gray sky and amended, “Late. Shouldn’t he be back by now?”

��Maybe he’s staying in town. He used to do that a lot.”

“Yes, but that was before we crowned him.” No2 hesitated. “Is that allowed now?”

“It’s not like he’s a proper king, is it? I expect he can do whatever he likes.” No1 made some dismissive hand flapping gesture. “I suppose we should get this cleaned up or something. Hardly looks civilized. Doesn’t keep a very neat throne room, does he.”

“Does that mean we can drink the hot cocoa?” No2 asked hopefully.

No3 tapped her finger against the tray, not sure at all if she should—or even could—make a suggestion. She was the newest rank and file, just hired by the king. But he’d given her a job when she’d desperately wanted it, and…well, she felt wrong about all this. Like an unpleasant itch beneath her armor. Graham had looked so miserable when he’d left (fair enough—she’d heard the shouting even from the entrance hall), and he hadn’t come back hours later, and….

“What if I go to town and make sure?” she offered.

“Sure about what?” No1 said distractedly. He picked up one of the abandoned socks, but he didn’t seem to know what to do with it once he had it, and he let it drop again.

“That he’s safe?”

“Safe? We’re in Daventry. It’s no Serenia or Llewdor. We haven’t had anything worse than a wedzel around for years.”

And that dragon that killed that knight, she thought, a touch rebelliously. And leprechauns and goblins and giants and…oh, never mind. “Still, sir, I think a spot of rust on the helmet will do me good. Get some practice marching in.”

“Ah, go on then. We’ll keep some cocoa warm for you.” He took the tray from her and wandered back toward the kitchens, trying to bat No2 away with his elbow without spilling anything. “Later, later. Let’s reheat it and get the rest of the lads in, make it fair.”

She looked at the empty room, remembered how distressed Graham had seemed when he pushed off into the rain alone, and she spun on her heel. She’d go to town. He’d mentioned Wente earlier; may as well start there.

No3 meandered along the road, that eternal Daventry monsoon rain drumming on her umbrella. She practiced what she might say to him, what would convince him to come back, to not give up on them, on her and her beginning career. If she could get Wente or Amaya or Muriel (not Chester) on her side, surely combined they could whip up an argument as solid as Wente’s brownie frosting.

But when she got to the town, and when she found half a broken flute, and empty houses, and a ton of churned mud, and shards of glass and splintered wood, and broken pies and cracked alchemical vials, and a complete lack of any king or villagers whatsoever, she flung the umbrella into the shattered bakery, sprinted back to the castle, and managed to completely ruin hot cocoa night in three words: “King Graham’s gone!”

*~*~*

Someone tapped on his hand, gently. “No, go ‘way,” he mumbled. “Ten more minutes.” The tapping persisted. He withdrew his hand and pulled it close under the blankets. “Five minutes,” he said, keeping his eyes firmly shut, though to his disappointment he could feel himself waking up. Something licked his nose, and he sat bolt upright. “Triumph?”

The glowing salamander on his pillow flicked its tail. Graham gaped at it for a split second before the pain hit in a horrible wave and he huddled forward, clutching the back of his head. The blanket (no, his own cloak) bunched around his waist. His probing fingers found the aching lump on the back of his head from where he’d hit it on the cobblestones yesterday. Yesterday?

Oh. Right.

He was sure he’d dreamed it. Prayed he’d dreamed it. But in the cold light of salamander glow it was undeniable. No point in pinching himself to make sure—everything already hurt.

Graham shifted, leaning against the stone wall behind him. It felt like he’d rolled down the side of a mountain (ha, again). His leg was uncomfortably stiff. Cautiously, he rolled back the fabric and found a horrible bruise on his hip, mottled purple and black and ugly in the gloomy light. The slightest pressure made him hiss. Sore, finger shaped bruises also marked the back of his legs and calves and even his arms from where they—the goblins, right—had gripped and pulled and thrown him into this cell. Stars.

Gingerly, he eased himself off the mattress, putting weight on his good leg before equalizing himself. His stiff leg shuddered, and he staggered forward, catching himself on the stone block that suited for a table. Newton chirped at him, and Graham breathed deep before pushing himself upright. Every bone seemed to creak and groan and pop as he did.

For the next undeterminable amount of time, he limped in agonized circles around the room, half hunched over for most of it, stretching out aching muscles and trying to focus, to think. His steps sloshed—much of the water from the night (or whenever—how much time had passed, anyway?) had drained away, but the lower stones puddled. He guessed it was rainwater collecting in the caves. As long as it was raining on the surface, his little prison would be damp.

The worst part about this, he decided (other than the sharp bite in his hip every few steps), was the not knowing. Not knowing why they’d taken him, and not knowing what they wanted to do with him. The goblins’ faces (masks?) revealed nothing. He couldn’t ask without an interpreter—not that there was anyone around to ask, anyway.

It wasn’t like the kingdom had enemies, at least none that he could definitively name. Or, to be fairer, there were some, but he wasn’t certain who, or if there even was a who, to blame, and guesses were just guesses. But it felt so…drastic. Unnecessary.

Sure, he’d only just been crowned and perhaps someone was upset about not being chosen (fair enough; who crowns a royal knight with no proper training or, truly, all that much warning), but so what? He upheld an open court. They could have walked in and laid out their frustration, maybe even made a claim to the crown. Stars, after that debacle in the castle earlier, he might have simply given them the throne had they asked politely enough.

It could be a ransom demand, he supposed, but the kingdom was dealing with rotten budget problems brought on by Edward’s illnesses and badly implemented addendums in his final months, and neither Graham nor any of the guards had sorted out how the unlimited treasure chest worked yet. (If, indeed, it even was unlimited. It had the mark of the Merchant of Miracles printed on the bottom, so, not much hope there.) If someone planned on getting a ransom for him, they were going to be sorely disappointed.

Hopefully send-him-home disappointed, not cut-his-throat disappointed.

Oh, shining stars. He ran his hands through his tangled hair.

To avoid losing Graham to the knife, the royal guards would have to strike up deals with the neighboring kingdoms. They’d have to relinquish the lavender fields to the highest bidder. Trade their goats and livestock. Open the King’s Forests for hunting. Daventry would be ruined economically and politically, just to scrape together a pitiful ransom for their stupid king.

It might just be best to forget the ransom, crown someone new (a King’s Tournament instead of a Knight’s Tournament? A tournament of speed could be the first to sign a ream of addendums) and forget Graham had ever existed. They hadn’t even had more than two sessions for the new royal portrait to be added to the Hall of Faces. It would be easy enough to hide him, a pathetic little footnote in the history books.

Which would make for a happy, thriving Daventry, but a not so happy pack of goblins, and, consequently, a less than thriving Graham.

He pressed his face against the barred window. No one was around. He looked down, trying to see what sort of lock held the door—a very large padlock, by the look of it. He wriggled a hand through the bars and twisted his arm until he had it in his grasp. Sturdy. Heavy. He tried to angle it to see the lock itself, but he couldn’t quite manage from here.

With a flash of delighted inspiration, he unpinned his brooch from his cowl. He flipped it over and studied it, but he felt his burst of excitement drain away again. The metal pin was far too small for the weighty lock. He’d just break the brooch off, and then the goblins would have to break down the door to let him out or just not bother to open it again.

He wandered toward the cracked mirror, to reaffix the pin straight against his chest, and stared at himself. With the dark rings under his eyes, he looked like he’d been punched in the face. Twice.

“Ahh.” Graham sank onto the mattress, the only properly dry thing in the whole cell, and wrapped his cloak tight. An opportunity would come, surely. He just had to be ready for it. Whenever it came. Whatever it looked like. He curled on his side, favoring his bruised hip, and tried to think of sunshine.

*~*~*

Graham fell into a sort of routine as time crept past on soft salamander feet. He couldn’t know how much time was passing, and he was reluctant to make a guess at it for fear of making the situation feel all the more helpless. Hopeless.

He took to reciting what addenda he could remember—he thought he might be mixing up some of the numbers (was it Addendum 78934 that was about pasta in royal guard diets, or 86752, or maybe he’d forgotten a decimal point), but he knew he had the content right. He’d been memorizing facts and sheets for weeks. It helped keep him grounded after he’d counted all Newton’s spots and every facet of every rock dozens of times over.

Every now and again, when his nauseous hunger felt overwhelming, he stumbled toward the pipes and gathered up a small amount of porridge. Stringy to the eyes, slimy to the touch, and rubbery to the teeth, he bit back on his gag reflex and swallowed handfuls of it as quick as he could with his eyes screwed shut. It didn’t seem to have much of a smell to it, but that was most likely because he’d gotten used to the wet-dog reek of his damp, lizard-infested cell.

But one day (the third day, had he been able to accurately number the hours—a proper fairy tale amount of time, which might have given him a hint as to who had done this), the horrible porridge stopped coming. Nothing oozed out of the pipes at all. Graham almost laughed. No more porridge! Ha! No more…oh, hang on. No more porridge means no more food means…his stomach snarled. Or was it the goblins outside his door snarling at each other?

Then, because the goblins didn’t want to do their own chores, he was freed. Or, at least, he wasn’t locked in his cell constantly. Every evening they unlocked the door and let him out to do their literal dirty work. This first night, they thrust an oily rag in his face and ordered him to clear spiderwebs. Well, fine. Chores would break up the monotony of his own thoughts, and anyway, it was a great excuse to explore every corner of this prison without getting tackled.

But his cleaning came to a screeching halt when he discovered, to his utter horror, that he wasn’t alone. All his friends were trapped in the shadows and the slime, too. Wente and his new wife, Bramble. Amaya. The Hobblepots. The Merchant. Even, bafflingly, Mr. Fancycakes. They were starving, bedraggled, as pathetic as he was. Worse than he was. And they were depending on him for survival.

He straightened his crown.

It’s a puzzle, Graham. Find a way out.

#King's Quest #kings quest #King Graham #fic'ing #ch2 #this post is protected by the royal guards

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blayzez · 6 years ago

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I'm sorry, I know I don't usually post discourse on my blog. I'm just... really hurt right now.

At the age of 24, after spending my entire childhood forcing myself to believe I was straight because that's what my family and religion said I was supposed to be, I finally acknowledged that I was bisexual. Even then, I was still second-guessing myself: What if I only think I'm bisexual because the internet/social media makes it seem like the "In" thing? What if my sexuality is just a mask and not who I really am? What if, what if, what if. It was hard.

Then I saw Voltron. Lance seemed to have a bisexuality arc laid out for him, and it was obvious that he didn't quite know he was bi and/or wasn't emotionally ready to acknowledge it.

That was just so validating. It made me happy to know that being confused about your sexuality -- not being sure if you're the sexuality you think you might be -- was common enough to include it in a kid's show and it made me feel so much better! I was so happy, and with Lance's help (and the help of my friends and therapist), I was able to finally accept my sexuality for what it was. And I'm an adult. Think about how many kids his arc could have helped! Kids who were questioning, kids who were unsure, kids that might not being surrounded by a good support system and have to hide who they are. Lance was shaping up to be someone kids could really look up, admire, and in turn accept themselves for they are because of him.

And now that's washed down the drain. It meant so much to me, perhaps meant so much to a lot of kids that needed that role model, but it clearly meant nothing to the writers and that is just so disheartening.

This isn't even about shipping. I love K/ance with all my heart, but I would be okay with any endgame ship so long as it was written well. This includes keeping the characters in-character and allowing the romance to help in their character development. Keith was the most likely candidate -- he really did make Lance a better person and vice versa -- but if someone else filled that role and filled it well, I would have been perfectly fine with that! But that's not what we got. Instead, the boy who has been insecure ALL SERIES has to spend his only romance building up his partner and have that not be reciprocated. That most-likely-candidate boosted him up more than Lance's actual romantic partner, and that is just bad writing. That's not a good relationship. Relationships are two-way streets; you can't have only one of the partners be supportive -- they have to be EQUALLY supportive. And A//urance was not that. A//urance was rushed, did not help the characters develop in the slightest, and took away TWO great role models.

I don't like Allura. I think I've made this clear before, but I really don't like her. I was neutral to her in s1, then the whole Not-All-Galra arc happened in s2 and my opinion of her started going down at that point.

But she didn't deserve the hand she was dealt. She was the only woman of color in the main cast, and they KILL HER??? WHY????? I may not have liked her, but that doesn't mean she was a bad character! On the contrary, she was a great role model and I'm sure many girls of color looked up to her. And then they just kill her? First they take away the great role model Lance could have been as a confused bisexual character, and then they take away the only woman of color on the main cast. WHAT. THE. FUCK. You can't just do that! I feel so horrible for the kids who looked up to those characters only to have it all ripped out from under their feet.

Oh, but there was a random gay wedding at the end, so that makes it alllllllll better~

Except it doesn't. Adding in a gay wedding/kiss with little-to-no build-up is more likely to cause confusion than anything else. And it doesn't erase how dirty they did Lance and Allura. Both characters deserved better.

On the topic of shipping, yes, it was queerbait. I refused to believe the showrunners were doing that -- I absolutely refused because I trusted the showrunners completely. Surely they wouldn't have ALL OF THESE ROMANTIC PARALLELS between K/L with other canon romantic couples for nothing. Surely they wouldn't have developed K/L's relationship more than any other relationship unless there was a really good reason for it. SURELY THEY WOULDN'T BE OKAY WITH VAGUING ABOUT THE SHIP MULTIPLE TIMES AND BEING OKAY WITH DW USING K/L FOR MARKETING PURPOSES IF IT WASN'T GOING TO HAPPEN.

But nope. All of the media techniques to subtly hint at a romance used specifically for K/L meant nothing. It was just bros being bros nothing gay here.

And that is BULLSHIT.

Honestly, the whole season just screams, "SHOCK VALUE," to me. They wanted to shock people, but I don't think they really considered the repercussions of how they were doing it. I get shock value, bringing up the interest and encouraging audiences to rewatch the series to understand why the shock was actually built-up from the beginning, but there's right way to do it and a wrong way to do it. Voltron took the wrong way and screwed it up royally.

To be clear, I am not against straight ships. Far from it, some of my favorite ships are heterosexual. Nor do I fetishize mlm relationships -- K/L is only the second mlm relationship I've come to really love (the first being Hau and Gladion from Pokemon Sun & Moon). It's just that K/L really struck a chord with me and with so many other people, and to take that away for the sake of a straight ship and some shitty shock value? Dirty thing to do to the show's audience. Don't build up proper LGBT+ rep UNLESS YOU ACTUALLY FUCKING HAVE IT. The only rep? Shiro, and a hastily-added Zethrid/Ezor ship. Blaytz, too, but that was glossed over tbh and I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of the audience (not on tumblr because we analyze everything to death lol) completely forgot about Blaytz's interaction with that make Galra. That's not proper rep. That's throwing it in and thinking, "It exists so our job is done."

Media in general has being doing LGBT+ rep dirty for SO LONG. Even when we had positive LGBT+ characters in media, they were still characters based off of gay stereotypes. They were good positive characters, but were still perpetuating a certain bias against LGBT+ by displaying these stereotypes as fact. Times are supposed to be different now. We're supposed to be progressing, making it BETTER. I really thought Voltron was going to be part of that progress, that it would give us a well-written, well-developed, well-loved LGBT+ representation for kids of this generation to look up to and admire and learn acceptance -- about themselves and about others -- from. Instead, the showrunners three half-assed, tacked on LGBT+ reps and called it a day.

THAT'S NOT COOL.

This isn't about ships. This is about proper media representation for the LGBT+ community -- something that is really scarce, even now -- and how it affects the LGBT+ community when it's done badly. This also goes for racial rep. You can take two misrepresented groups and treat them horribly and then call it good rep. IT ISN'T. The poor representation of the LGBT+ community has proved to be detrimental in society's view of them. THIS DOESN'T HELP.

*sigh*

Off the topic of that, can we talk about how shit the writing was? Because it was really shit.

I'll admit that while I like s7, it wasn't written amazingly-well. Still, it wasn't bad and did have plenty of interesting episodes. Even with all of the asspulls we got in the last episode, it was still awesome because we got to see Shiro back in his element after losing almost everything in prior seasons. It was a mix of good writing and bad writing, but the good writing made up for the bad.

The seasons previous to that were well-done. Maybe not s4, but the other seasons were well-written and really enjoyable! There's a reason the show took off; the plot maybe standard, but the characters, character dynamics, and relationships were fantastic and were the true driving force behind the series and its success.

So why was s8 so all over the place? Why were plot threads that had been hinted at or outright confirmed left hanging or tied together hastily? So many things were alluded to in previous seasons only to lead to NOTHING. WHY???

Why did everyone BUT Lance get an arc?

What was the point of Lance getting a sword if it was never going to be brought up again?

Why was Keith's arc suddenly thrown to the wayside?

Why did Allura have to DIE for her arc to reach its conclusion?

WHY?

So many people complained about bad writing in Voltron, but I had always believed that the writing in Voltron was relatively good. Sure, it had its problems (like the entirety of s4, and the MFEs being boring as shit), but it was mostly a well-rounded show with well-rounded characters.

And s8... just threw all of that away.

All of that potential, all of those good arcs -- wasted.

The writing went downhill SO fast, and it's just such a shame. Something that meant so much to me has dissolved into the mess s8 was. It's disheartening.

I also want to apologize to all of my followers who followed me because my K/L optimism and metas. I'm sorry if I got your hopes up; I really thought K/L was the logical conclusion -- everything was building up to it, right from the first episode and even continuing in s7 (hell, even s8 added to it) -- and I truly thought the writers were going to follow through with all of the logical conclusions the previous seasons built up. I had faith in them, but I was wrong. For that, I apologize. I know it's just a cartoon show, but I also know how influential and meaningful media can be -- especially for marginalized groups -- so if my hype bringing you up made your fall harder when s8 was released, I am so sorry. You didn't deserve that; nobody in the fandom did.

I'm so jaded and disillusioned right now. Voltron has been a major inspiration for me; I originally decided to be a cartoonist to bring LGBT+ representation to children's media because of Steven Universe, but it was Voltron that really motivated me to reach that goal. I looked up to Voltron -- it was my muse, my main inspiration. I've learned so much about writing -- writing character arcs, relationships, etc. -- from Voltron and all of the analyzing people did. Seeing it devolve into what it did is upsetting. Something I loved so much has let me down, and I'm hurt and disappointed.

But more than ever, I want to create cartoons that don't do this; cartoons that tie up its loose ends, follow through with obvious character relationships, puts the main characters through complete arcs, and give proper development to them all. Cartoons that have proper LGBT+ and racial representation -- with LGBT+/characters of color that can be admired, that won't fall flat, that will teach the children of the generation about acceptance of others and acceptance of yourself regardless of sexuality, skin color, gender identity, etc. Voltron failed in that aspect; it was a compelling show that failed in everything it needed to succeed in. I refuse to make that same mistake.

With that, let's all look ahead to future and enjoy the fanworks that do these wonderful characters justice. Let Voltron's failure inspire you to create and make something better, something that will be much more impactful, much more meaningful.

Don't let it get you down; let it bring you up.

#voltron #voltron s8 spoilers #discourse #negative #im sorry to have this on my blog #but i needed to let this out #my post #reika rants

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teroknope · 7 years ago

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Bro your writing is AMAZING!! I’d like to request if that’s cool with you? Maybe something like you’re a praetorian guard thats friends with kylo, but he doesn’t know you’re a guard (bc of the whole red theme/masks). Then in the fight scene after snoke dies Rey is fighting you & somehow ur helmet comes off and Rey is about to kill u but kylo saves you & when Rey refuses his offer to rule w him, maybe you take it instead bc u guys have lil crushes on each other?? idk man just a thought.:)

A/N : Thank you for your comment! It really means a lot to hear feedback like this, it’s really inspiring me to keep writing 〔´∇｀〕

I…really don’t know where this came from I was meant to work today but I’ve caught a cold or something; so I’ve been resting up today (By that I mean I’ve watched a SHIT ton of Adam Driver films lol). I have spent part of the day writing this. I hope you enjoy it anon! I am sorry if it’s not up to the usual standard as I said I am a bit ill! ty for your request

Warnings: TLJ Spoilers! Don’t read if you don’t want to be spoiled for The last Jedi.

W.C: 3,500

The honour of being a praetorian guard was reserved for the most dedicated and elite warriors; you considered it a privilege to be included in this elite group. Dedicating your entire being to the service of Supreme Leader Snoke. It was protocol to be trained in numerous martial art, perhaps the most influential being Akane, in which the imperial royal guard was trained in during the reign of The Emperor.

When you were not on duty, you were either resting or training. You took your training seriously, it was a great stress relief too. You were not sure when you would get the opportunity to train, so when you did you jumped at the chance.

This lead to a walk in with Kylo Ren himself. Ren caught you training in the room that is usually empty at that time of the day. The training room doors opened swiftly, you turned to face the open door. Your face red and your body sweaty, although you did not expect judgement as it is a training room; you are supposed to be sweaty.

“Commander Ren,” You acknowledged his presence, performing the standard First Officer Salute. You knew he was nothing like The Supreme Leader; he was better.

You knew Kylo could defeat The Supreme Leader in a combat of physical strength in mere seconds, but it was The Supreme Leaders mental ability, in particular, his strength in the force, which kept him alive. It was your responsibility to be his physical strength, your duty and your honour.

“At this hour, I normally train in this room,” He observed, his voice monotone through his helmet.

You did not know what to say, “Apologies commander, I can leave if needed”

“I can offer an alternative” He pondered “Spar with me”

You were not in a position to refuse; nor that you wanted to either.

“Yes, Commander Ren” You could not deny you were ecstatic to train with a man who wielded a lightsaber. You saw it as excellent practice, that was it, right? Nothing more.

There were numerous weapons available, you hesitated before you took the spear. Would he guess you were part of the praetorian guard? No, surely not from your choice of picking a spear.

“Let’s begin” He flicked on his erratic saber, the noise surrounding the room.

You were watching him in two ways; firstly, on the skill in which he swung his saber, as well so you could effectively block and parry his attacks. Secondly, which you would not admit to anyone, was you ogling his toned arms, well they were more than toned. Although you had not yet seen his face, you could not help finding yourself attracted to him physically

Likewise, Kylo watched you intently; he saw the strength in your physical form. You were not what he would consider a stereotypical officer to be; what stuck out for him was your individual mind. You were dedicated to The First Order but separated at the same time.

The sparring session ended when Ren knocked the blade out of your grip, it flew to the floor with an almighty thud. You were stunned, it had to be a long time since you were bested in battle.

You were breathing was short and fast, your body sweaty and warm. Ren noticed how the heat had risen to your cheeks; turning them a soft pink. He caught himself staring at you; he pulled away.

“Thank you, Commander Ren, for the opportunity” You saluted him.

“You did well; I’ll see to it that we spar again”.

That was the first time you spared with Kylo Ren and it seemed like so long. Since the discovery and pursuit of the BB8 unit you had been placed at Snoke’s side twenty-four seven, you considered yourself blessed if you got a moment to rest.

The efforts were unsuccessful, and Kylo Ren was at the front of the scrutiny of Emperor Snoke.

“Take off that ridiculous thing off” Snoke whispered, urgently and seriously.

You began to hate how he spoke to Ren; but more so why had you come to idealise a man you don’t really know or understand. But you wanted to, so much.

Praetorian guards were conditioned to react to any unspurred movement in the vicinity of The Supreme Leader. You watched the scene unfold; he had recently returned from his fight with the other force user. Being at the side of Snoke you heard the untold rage, anger and disappointment that he felt.

When Ren adamantly removed his helmet; the Ren you saw was not like the man you use to know. He looked so defeated, his dark hair fell in front of his pale face. You noticed how his right eye was a dark red, bruised and sore. Not to mention the new edition of the sharp scar falling across his eye; although the thin black bandaged covered the majority of it. You were observing Ren as Snoke continued his verbal abuse, your ears clocking back to the current moment when Snoke roared;

“… he split your spirit to the bone. You were unbalanced, bested by a girl who had never held a lightsaber, you failed!”

Kylo reacted, as any individual would. He began to hastily rose to his feet but Snoke was always one step ahead, he released a wave of force lightning which sent Ren smacking the cold ground.

You empathized with his pain immensely; the crimson armour you wore would send sharp electric currents throughout the panels. A necessity to deflect blasters and lightsaber.

The conditioned bodies of the guards reacted the moment Ren rose to his feet, yourself included. You all shifted to a battle stance; your decorated spear pointing towards Ren, the man you admired so much. The base of the spear was the same red as your armour but was decorated with a beautiful silver blade, no doubt made from the finest silver in the galaxy.

The moment Snoke returned to this throne you relaxed, spinning the spear to stand on the ground; the tip peering over your shoulder

The man you saw was not the Kylo you had come to know; although he was unaware that you knew him. He left the room and entered the elevator, you could only imagine what was whizzing through his mind.

Eventually, you were allowed to rest, you returned to your quarters. Shedding off the heavy armour. You stepped into the hot shower, letting the water wash away the intense situation that occurred today. Your mind could not help sympathising with Ren; you found yourself becoming nostalgic on the times you use to spar with him.

“Thank you for the opportunity once again, Commander” You hated being formal, but it was necessary. A few hours before Ren had left a message for you on your transceiver, a request to spar with him again.

You would not deny yourself the opportunity; you were excited about the experience. The moment you read the message your world brightened ever so sightly.

You and Ren were in the same training room as before, although this time you had not chosen your weapon. You glanced over the display of various tools and devices.

perhaps something different this time? You considered.

“No, the same weapon as last time” He spoke, ah, you had forgotten how to force users can sense the smallest detail of your mind.

“Yes, Commander” You affirmed, grasping the spear. While you were checking it over, you heard whirs and clicks that you did not recognise. Followed by a thud. You turned your head and for the first time saw the commander without his helmet.

You understood it was more of a statement rather than a need to hide anything he was ashamed of; you thought how you liked his physical features. Especially his hair, you then reminded your thoughts to be quiet.

He already had heard them of course, but he did not tell you that.

You both took the position, standing opposite each other.

“Let’s begin” He unsheathed his saber, and twirled it at the same time.

The training was far more intense than the one before, you had both gotten accustomed to your fighting style. Making it more challenging. As expected Kylo once again bested you in battle, throwing you to the floor, the spear dancing on the floor as it flew from your hand.

He held his gloved hand out to you, you took it gripping it tightly. It was so much…larger than your own.

“Thank you again, Commander” you wheezed out, trying to look respectable.

You left the shower, finally relaxed and able to sleep for the night. You hoped Kylo Ren also had ease sleeping that night, you imagined he found it difficult to sleep most nights, especially with the responsibility he carried. What followed the next day would continue to prove you wrong.

The reflection of a hissing blue blade bounced off your armour, your mind and body coming to attention the moment it ignited. You watched as it pierced through The Supreme Leader. You stopped breathing for a short second; you faced Snoke and watch the blade be pulled from him, cutting him in half.

Instantaneously you equipped your spear; yourself and the other guards began your assault on the girl and Ren. You could not show resilience, you could not show you did not want to kill the person you admired the most. But you had a duty above all.

Fate had landed you in the position to fight the girl, wielding the blade that killed Snoke. He was fast, although slightly inexperienced but the rage made up for this. The rage seethed through her eyes as her blade hit your spear. You focus was on her, but you observed from the corner of your vision how your fellow guards fell one by one.

This is it you gravely thought. The end of your life was near.

The girl scraped the saber against the floor, the hot sparks bouncing off your armour. The blade swung close to your feet, you instinctually stepped back. Unfortunately not far enough.

As she pulled the blue saber up it ripped through the front of your crimson helmet. Scraping away at the armour, somehow missing the right side of your face. It obliterated the front of the helmet; leaving a large gaping chunk. Rendering it useless. Nevertheless, you continued to fight back.

Kylo watched as Rey glided through the helmet like it was nothing; the more you moved the more the masked chipped away.

Eventually, the right side of your face was exposed

It’s her. The thoughts whizzed through Ren’s mind. The one I sparred with.

The right of the helmet continuously chipped off, you got frustrated. Ripping off the rest of your helmet. You could still feel the heat of the saber lingering on the broken armour.

This was when the girl used the moment to her advantage.

You were no stranger to being hit by the force, in the early days of your training you were frequently conditioned to withstand such an intense power. She held out her hand in front of you and your body came to a sudden halt. You knew what was coming.

She forcefully pushed you, sending you flying into the wall very high from the floor; your back violently crashed into it. You felt your armour crack, which spread throughout your chest area.

Miraculously the armour still proved useful as you fell to the floor with a depressing thud, your spear falling arm length away from you. if it was not for your Armor you would not have survived the fall; although the pain was indescribable.

Your eyes were begging to close, but you force them open. The impact had flown through your entire being, affecting you in multiple ways. You thought this would be it; she would come to finish you off. You imagined her shoving the lightsaber through your chest, this is how you would die.

By the grace of the gods, it seemed the girl had forgotten you once you were out of her immediate proximity and focused on your fellow guards. One was holding Ren in a choke, you could see him struggling

She threw her saber to Ren, who in one click of a switch put it through the head of the last guard.

That’s it, you was the last one.

The girl then turned to you. It appears she would not show you mercy after all, anyway why would she? You served the most powerful and most destructive being in the galaxy; there would be consequences.

Your arm weakly stretched out and gripped your broken spear; although it was not in its prime it was still sharp. A last-minute defence.

Her eyes bolted to you, she saw you reach out and grip your weapon. You could feel her march over to you, her footsteps heavy on the metal floor. Although your senses were blurry, you could tell at the velocity in which she was coming to finish the job.

“Rey” That deep voice, which you had come to admire called out. She ignored it and continued powering towards your defenceless body.

“There is no life left in that one” Your heart sank.

“leave her to die”. Your heart sank even more.

You were not sure if it was due to the intense physical pain that she caused or the intense emotional pain that he had just inflicted. But tears begin to sting your eyes, dripping down your bloody face.

Had Kylo Ren betrayed The First Order? Was he to return from where he came? Anger and confusion surged through your veins, Ren could sense this. Rey thought he was staring at her, but he was staring through her. At you.

Trust me, stay still, do not move. His voice reverberated through your mind.

Calmness washed throughout your body, although this was not the best decision in this moment in time as you felt your body beginning to slip in and out of consciousness. Resulting in you hearing parts of their conversation.

“It’s time to let old things die…We can rule together and bring a new order to the galaxy”

So, he had not betrayed The First Order; not entirely.

“Please, don’t go this way” She begged

‘Your nothing, but not to me” Oh, did he care for her? It seemed like she did

“Join Me” Ah, another stab in the chest.

“Please” He was pleading; you sort of hoped she took his decision. You could imagine the consequences if she did not.

You regained a clearer consciousness when you felt a strange force hitting your body. You forced your sore eyes open; observing Ren and the girl pushing themselves away from one another. The lightsaber hanging in the middle. Momentarily a bright light surrounded the room, both of them flying in opposite directions. The sheer force of the blast rolled you over, knocking you out once again.

By the time you awoke the throne room was somehow worse than before, more specs of fire falling from the ceiling. You looked around the room.

The girl was gone. Perhaps she had offered you mercy or had more important matters to see to. Either way, you were relieved, and very lucky.

Wait, Kylo. His name shot through your mind like a speeder, your eyes desperately searching for him. You could not mistake his broad frame, collapsed on the metal floor, his back facing you. You could not tell if he was breathing, you still had a duty, you had to get closer to him.

You slowly rose to your feet by leaned up onto your knees, continuing onto standing on your right foot and then you left. Your body ached like no pain you had ever known.

You limped over to Kylo; your weight bearing down on your injured left leg. You held onto your side in which the girl cut you, while it was not a deep cut it hurt badly. You could feel your muscles begging for rest. Eventually, after what seemed like far too long you reach Kylo’s body. Your training kicked in; begrudgingly you knelt down next to him. Letting out a groan of pain as you moved next to him,

“Commander Ren,” you called to him as loud as you could, which was actually the sound of whispering.

You hastily removed the armour from your right hand, Flexing your fingers. The soothing air hitting the bloody skin. You placed two fingers on Ren’s neck, feeling for a pulse.

It was there, faint, but there. You sighed. Thank the heavens.

Commander Hux entered the room, his face paler and pastier than usual. The destruction was beyond what he had imagined. He wearily walked over to The Supreme Leader’s split body; he watched The Supreme Leader’s lower half fall to the floor. The thud reverberating throughout the shattered room.

You had not glanced at his corpse once. You did not desire that image burned into your mind for the rest of your days. You were unaware of Hux gazing at you and Ren, you were too focused on making sure The Commander was alive; as a consequence, you were oblivious to Hux maliciously pulling out his pistol.

Kylo awoke with a gasp, his head facing the floor. You instinctively placed your hand on his shoulder, he gazed at your bloody face.

“Your alive” He gently spoke. Kylo stared at you; he noticed how your bottom lip had a large cut in which the blood around it had dried up. Your eyes bloodshot, your face once perfectly clean was covered with small nicks, bruises and blood. He only imagined how bruised your body would have looked. Ren could tell you were in agony, but admiring you for persevering

Hux placed the pistol back into its holster, sneakily pulling his back coat over it.

“What” Hux was pissed, you had only known General Hux around The Supreme Leader, like a doting child. You had never heard such anger in this voice although you imagined him to expressing it frequently. “Happened”.

“The girl murdered Snoke” He was lying through his teeth, it was necessary for his survival.

“General” You stood hastily, the pain shooting through your body. Hux could tell you were in great pain, he did not care.

“I can corroborate with Commander Ren, what he speaks is the truth”. You saw Hux’s pale eyes gaze you up and down; no doubt judging you for how defeated you had looked. You would have no motive to lie, you were a guard and nothing more. You saw Hux’s eye observe you with concern. Kylo hastily stood up,

“What happened?” He sturdily asked Hux.

“She took Snoke’s escape craft” Hux spoke, grinding his teeth in anger.

“I know where she is going…get all of our forces down to that Resistance base, let’s finish this” He asserted his authority, without a shadow of a doubt.

“Finish this?” You instantly recognised the threatening tone of Hux’s voice. “who do you think you’re talking to?”

Your aching body reacted instinctively, taking a defensive stance to the side of Ren. Albeit you would be useless without a weapon and not to mention how beaten up your body was. It hurt to lift your limbs so it would be impossible to perform hand-to-hand combat. He did not need you to defend him, but it was more of a symbolic signifier to general Hux. One which Kylo did take notice of.

—-

After Ren had force strangled Hux and assumed his position as The Supreme Leader you hastily retreated to your chambers, you knew the fight was not over. But you were no use to anyone in this physical condition. You tore off the remains of your crimson Armor, countless panels laying on your once clean floor.

There was no time to take a shower regrettably as you would begin the assault on the rebel base, in which Ren asserted that you would accompany him.

The sound of the door sliding open brought you to attention, you walked out of your private bedroom freshly changed into your First Order uniform; he was standing there, with troopers behind him.

“Leave us,” He commanded the pair, who took watch outside of your chambers.

There was a pause for a short second “I never suspected you were a praetorian guard” he inquired.

“You never asked” You smirked at him, “Besides, I felt best if I kept my identity as a praetorian guard a secret so it would not impact my duties” You muttered, actively lying through your teeth. Since you had met Kylo your entire stance on being a guard had changed, watching Snoke torture him made your blood boil.

“I am still bound by my duty. If you would have me, I want to serve you. Although I feel that was obvious by my actions earlier, I feel it had…value if I say it to you directly” You warmly smiled at him.

He took a step closer to you, your heart leapt for a second.

Ren’s eyes never left yours, moments ago he was betrayed by the one person he believed would join him. Yet here you were, someone who had always been there, diligent, loyal and strong. It made his heart slightly flutter.

“So, you will join me?” He repeated himself, he was so close to you that the personal space was almost none existent.

“You never had to ask, I am always at your side Supreme Leader Ren.”

#Kylo Ren x Reader #Anonymous #Kylo Ren Imagine #Kylo Ren #Star Wars Imagine #TLJ #The Last Jedi Spoilers #TLJ Spoilers #Star Wars #Star Wars Fanficiton #Kylo Ren Fanficiton #This one is so long LOL #TheLeastWriting #MKWrites

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ritzyishkabibble-archived · 7 years ago

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Mask Price Tag

MUSE-ASSOCIATED SONGS

RULES. post as many songs as you like that remind you of your muse and then tag people whose songs you want to see. repost, don’t reblog.

Tagged by: @inspirxnt [thank you!] Tagging: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

[ $ FRANCIS SCOTT KEY FITZGERALD $ ]

1. sober ii (melodrama) // lorde

god, i wonder why we bother (whoa, whoa-oh) all the glamour, and the trauma And the fucking melodrama (whoa, whoa-oh) All the gun fights, and the limelights And the holy sick divine nights (whoa, whoa-oh)

2. wonderland // caravan palace

i gotta hit that street you better watch it with a gat that i cock with a full clip i got the whip, got the pitch thought i’d keep it undercover all up in the club just to live it up see the stone cold face, try to knock it i can’t be trapped, never walk, i’m a rocket i gotta be in it, i gotta grip in it i gotta be-ba-da-be-ba-da-be-da-be-it

3. small bill$ // regina spektor

better get a head start, start running while you were skimming from the top was sunny but all the weather ‘bout to turn real crummy ‘cause everybody gonna want their money

4. new americana // halsey

survival of the richest, the city’s ours until the fall they’re monaco and hamptons bound, but we don’t feel like outsiders at all

5. american trash // innerpartysystem

it’s such an ignorant bliss when the whole fucking world wants to be like me

6. don’t stop // innerpartysystem

the selfish blood runs through my veins i gave up everything for fame i am the lie that you adore i feed the rich and fuck the poor

7. gold // imagine dragons

statues and empires are all at your hands water to wine and the finest of sands when all that you have’s turning stale and it’s cold oh, you’ll no longer feel when your heart’s turned to gold

8. are you satisfied? // marina and the diamonds

high achiever, don’t you see? baby, nothing comes for free they say i’m a control freak driven by a greed to succeed nobody can stop me

9. shampain // marina and the diamonds

drinking champagne, meant for a wedding toast to the bride, a fairytale ending drinking champagne, a bottle to myself savor the taste of fabricated wealth

10. oh no! // marina and the diamonds

one track mind, one track heart if i fail, i’ll fall apart maybe this is all a test ‘cause i feel like I’m the worst so i always act like i’m the best

11. numb // marina and the diamonds

i feel numb most of the time the lower i get the higher i climb and i will wonder why i got dark only to shine and i light up the sky stars that burn the brightest fall so fast and pass you by cough like empty lighters

12. victorious // panic! at the disco

i’m like a scarf trick, it’s all up the sleeve i taste like magic, waves that swallow quick and deep throw the bait, catch the shark, bleed the water red fifty words for murder and i’m every one of them

13. don’t threaten me with a good time // panic! at the disco

i’m a scholar and a gentleman and i usually don’t fall when i try to stand i lost a bet to a guy in a chiffon skirt but i make these high heels work i’ve told you time and time again i’m not as think as you drunk i am and we all fell down when the sun came up i think we’ve had enough

14. emperor’s new clothes // panic! at the disco

sycophants on velvet sofas lavish mansions, vintage wine i am so much more than royal snatch your chain and mace your eyes if it feels good, tastes good it must be mine heroes always get remembered but you know legends never die

15. golden days // panic! at the disco

time can never break your heart but it’ll take the pain away right now our future’s certain i won’t let it fade away

16. let’s kill tonight // panic! at the disco

if i retreat words, wars, and symphonies make room! we’re taking over here and you’re the galantine cold and alone, it suits you well won’t find me perching here again

17. memories // panic! at the disco

when july became december their affection fought the cold but they couldn’t quite remember what inspired them to go and it was beautifully depressing like a street car named desire they were fighting for their love that had started growing tired

18. turn off the lights // panic! at the disco

so sick of wasting all my time how in god’s name did i survive? i need a little sympathy to sore my insecurities our consciences are always so much heavier than our egos i set my expectations high so nothing ever turns out right

19. oh glory // panic! at the disco

oh glory, i think i see you ‘round the bend and i think i’d try any poison to get there in the end oh glory

20. vegas lights // panic! at the disco

and we’re all not here for nothing and we’re bored with looking good we gotta be starting something would you change it if you could?

21. there’s a good reason these tables are numbered honey, you just haven’t thought of it yet // panic! at the disco

next is a trip to the, the ladies’ room in vain, and i bet you can’t keep with, (keep up) with these fashionistas, and tonight, tonight you are, you are a whispering campaign i bet to them your name is “cheap,” i bet to them you look like shh...

22. confident // demi lovato

i used to hold my freak back now i’m letting go i make my own choice bitch, i run this show so leave the lights on no, you can’t make me behave

23. get the party started // p!nk

boulevard is freakin’ as i’m comin’ up fast i’ll be burnin’ rubber, you’ll be kissin’ my ass pull up to the bumper, get out of the car license plate says stunner #1 superstar

24. forever stuck in our youth // set it off

my liver hates my guts because i’m stuck on living in a daze bottom shelf tequila coursing through my veins giddy, greedy, grin upon my face i can’t help it, i can’t stop

25. uncontainable // set it off

keep swingin’, keep dreamin’ but you’ll never knock me out i’ve fallen too often but you’ll never keep me down you see it, you feel it your mama can’t save you now one day, they’ll say the throne was made for me

26. undefeated // skillet

all the strength that i have, all the life that’s left in me i will give every breath to be everything i can be

27. one for the money // escape the fate

let me see you start a war, start a riot when there’s nothing left to burn, hear the silence hate me, you can’t escape me and you ain’t ever gonna change me i can’t stand it, i’ve fucking had it, i’m about to blow

28. survive // sick puppies

‘cause i’m one who will survive the ones you eat alive and nobody puts up a fight they die! they die! rolling dollar bills and popping all these pills but i’ll do what i wanna do ‘cause i wasn’t built to lose

29. i don’t care // fall out boy

say my name and his in the same breath i dare you say they taste the same let the leaves fall off in the summer and let december glow in flames erase myself and let go start it over again in mexico these friends, they don’t love you they just love the hotel suites, now

30. america’s suitehearts // fall out boy

let’s hear it for america’s suitehearts but i must confess i’m in love with my own sins

31. this ain’t a scene, it’s an arms race // fall out boy

i am an arms dealer fitting you with weapons in the form of words and don’t really care which sides win as long as the room keeps singing that’s just the business i’m in, yeah

32. death valley // fall out boy

i want the guts and glory, baby, baby this town is wasted and alone

33. the soiree // paul shapera’s new albion radio hour

you can lose yourself in motion or commit something felonious as a bonus ‘cause you know it’s alright

34. planetary (go!) // my chemical romance

you’re unbelievable ah, so unbelievable ah, you ruin everything oh, you better go home i’m unbelievable yeah, i’m undefeatable yeah, let’s ruin everything blast it to the back row

35. vampire money // my chemical romance

the kids don’t care if you’re alright, honey pills don’t help, but it sure is funny gimme gimme some of that vampire money c’mon!

#{{ they say I'm a control freak driven by a greed to succeed - HEADCANONS }}#{{ it's just a number to me - TAG }}#==out of money==#inspirxnt #//thanks for the tag!#//<3 #//I DID IT #//YA HAPPY NOW?

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poeticsandaliens · 7 years ago

Text

A Pirate’s Life for Me Ch. 3

AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11405793/chapters/25777692

A storm was brewing over the port when Scully left the Blue Baron. It rolled in like the kraken, with the pale arms of lightning and a decisive rumble. On a whim, she scooped up a hat one man had dropped in his rush to escape Davy Jones. She must look ridiculous, she realized, wearing trousers, her brother's far too large shirt and coat, and a pirate’s hat. But truly, if she thought about it, this entire night had been ridiculous, refusing to conform to reason, instead dwelling comfortably in the fictional and absurd.

As a child, she would not even have considered the idea of chasing after a pirate or boarding a stranger’s ship. Her father’s passing had shaken her; every night for years she would stand on the cliffs outside her house, hoping to see her father and dreading the day she might see a skull and crossbones flying on the horizon. Meeting Mulder had shifted her perspective—his stories of pirates were upbeat adventures, filled with a gritty, flawed heroism more authentic than tales of knights and lost princesses. She hardly believed them; after all, he spoke of curses and the undead, but she’d begun to consider—perhaps a pirate was simply a person, who like every other person on this Earth, could choose good or evil at any fork in the road. How ironic that it was Mulder held prisoner upon a corsair’s ship and she stowing away with Davy Jones.

Scully spotted Stella Gibson's distinctive silhouette stalking decisively through the streets of Los Barriles. Lonesome and light-footed, Stella appeared taller than she truly was. The dark seemed to stretch her, mask her human shape and transform her into a walking shadow. Though Scully could hear her own heels click ominously as she fought to catch up, the pirate’s boots made no noise against the loose cobblestone, nor did the saber she used as a cane.

It gave a whole new meaning to ‘silent as the grave.’

As Scully approached, Stella gave no clue that she was aware of her presence, though Scully was certain she’d heard her footfalls as soon as they’d left the tavern. The bird on Stella’s shoulder cooed and ruffled itself, and Stella raised one spectral hand to smooth its feathers back into place. It was odd—with the the same hand that could so easily threaten Hell upon a stranger, she the owl’s back with surprising tenderness. She was neither a warm living soul nor a cold corpse, evidently trapped somewhere in between.

What had she done to earn herself the curse of Davy Jones? Scully still couldn’t shake the sight of three bullets cutting into Stella’s chest, the gross emptiness of the tunnels they left in her flesh. She couldn’t help but stare at the scar above Stella’s right breast and wonder if the weathered woman before had truly cut out her own beating heart and buried in a box, and if she had, what had driven her to take on such a curse?

What had she mentioned to the barman, about bad luck— It depends on who you ask. Did the endless limbo between life and death sway her in the slightest? She seemed to contradict everything Scully had learned of living creatures—their bodies, their decay in the steady march of time, their innate fear of the dead and of death itself.

In one night, Scully felt her perception of reality shatter.

She quickened her stride until she was beside Stella. The pirate reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of crushed lead pieces.

“I believe these are yours,” she said. “If you can find a blacksmith to re-shape them, they will fire again easily.”

It was only after Scully took them that she realized what they were: her bullets. The three bullets John Jack had shot into Stella’s body. She clapped her hand to her mouth and for a second or two considered throwing them into the street behind her. She was more terrified to see them crushed and clean than she would be to see them bloodied and lodged in Stella’s sternum. At least then they would abide by the laws of nature.

Instead, she tucked them into her pocket. “Would you really have brought John Jack aboard?” she asked. “The man you let go, would you have sailed him to Hell like you promised?”

“Not in the strictest sense,” said Stella. “Though had he rushed at you again, I might have killed him. In the end, Hell is only inescapable if you make it so.”

“You let him shoot you.” It seemed a foolish thing to say in hindsight, but it wasn’t everyday Scully saw a woman shot three times walk away unscathed.

“So I noticed.”

“Why?”

Stella hummed softly. “When you’re cursed for all eternity, you find amusement where you can. Not to mention—I wanted no one in my way nor in yours, and the name Davy Jones tends to inspire fear.”

“You’re plenty disconcerting without the name.” The owl alone had unnerved Scully at first, fascinating as it was. Looking into an owl’s eyes was like staring into the Underworld, witnessing your own weaknesses and learning the day you will die. They carried a spooky wisdom about them unlike any animal Scully had encountered. Stella was much the same.

“Did it hurt when he shot you?”

Stella stopped in her tracks and angled her body toward Scully. The bullet holes had turned to fresh white scars, less visible than the slice where her heat was—or should have been. “Just a pinch,” she said. “Like a little crab clinging to my skin. If you put a knife through this—” she held up her hand, “—it might hurt a little more. But in truth, I have nothing to be hurt. I am shy of a body but hardier than a ghost.”

Scully cocked her head. She could see no pulse in Stella’s neck despite the breath escaping her lips and misting the air between them. “You have no heartbeat.”

“Not here, no.”

“Can I see?” She hoped she was not overstepping boundaries, that Stella had not perceived her request as hostile or invasive. Scully was simply the type of person who wanted to prove everything for herself. To her relief, however her question was perceived, Stella seemed unruffled. She took Scully’s hand and pressed it against her chest. Scully felt the roughness of old and new scars, the jutting ridges of Stella’s collarbones, the silver chain hanging loosely around Stella’s neck. But no heartbeat. She drew a sharp intake of breath—for some reason, this was what she needed to believe Stella’s claims. A shiver ran the course of her spine, Stella’s ice cold skin chilling her body.

Frightened and unwilling to show it, she snatched her hand away from Stella’s chest, where above the deep cut of her shirt, an absent heart failed to thump in rhythm.

Scully chewed her lower lip. What must it be like to feel a chasm where your heart should beat? How would it feel to be half woman, half phantom? But those seemed like answers she could only understand with experience, and she had no desire to put herself in Stella’s shoes. She couldn’t settle her curiosity, but at some point her questions were bound to cross an unspoken line. She wanted, more than anything, to ask what had driven Stella to take on the Flying Dutchman, but she was uncertain whether Stella would be willing to speak of the matter to a woman she’d only just met. And supposing she got an answer, she was even more uncertain whether she’d still want to leave port with Stella after hearing it.

So instead, she pressed, “You didn’t steal your ship then, like you told the barman.”

“No, the Flying Dutchman comes with the curse. The heart, the ship, the infamous name, it’s a packaged deal.” Stella quickened her pace as rain began to fall in the thick, heavy droplets that only accompany the fiercest gales. The once-distant thunder cracked and rolled overhead, and Scully’s hat only kept her so dry.

“Then are you a pirate?” she demanded, pulling her hat tighter to keep the wind from carrying it away.

“Yes, I am a pirate, though I fall far from Philip Padgett’s sadistic breed of piracy.” For the first time since they’d left the comfort of the Blue Baron, Stella tilted her head to catch Scully’s eye. “You ask a lot of questions, Dana Scully. When we raise anchor and break out of this storm, I expect you to answer some of mine.”

A sudden gust of wind nearly swept Scully off her feet, and she gripped Stella’s shoulder for balance. Lightning forked like the tongue of a sea serpent over the bay, lighting up the entire port before them for a brief second. It was enough time for Scully to take in the nearly empty docks, and she realized that only one tiny ship was still anchored that did not belong to the Royal Navy. Everyone else must have left in a hurry to escape the Dutchman, which Scully noted was nowhere in sight.

“You don’t see the Flying Dutchman,” said Stella beside her. “No worries. It comes only when called.”

“You should call it then,” Scully huffed, jogging slightly to match Stella’s pace. She wasn’t much shorter than Stella, but the other woman’s stride seemed unnaturally brisk. “I see lightning and unnerving waves and a dock I’ve no desire to be standing on when the brunt of the storm hits.”

The patter of rain turned to a steady pour, seeping through Scully’s clothes and rolling down her back. She shivered and drew her oversized coat tighter. As they approached the docks, pot-bellied old man raced the other direction holding his hat to his head, a bottle of rum in his hand. “Fools!” He shouted as he passed them. “The Dutchman is raising Hell upon us! Flee the port!”

A weary sigh escaped Stella’s lips. “I swear, for every misfortune that befalls these men, I am to blame. Downed by the ghastly Dutchman, drowned in Davy Jones’ locker, there are a hundred ways to die in these waters, and somehow they’ve all been attributed to me.”

Scully couldn’t help it. She stifled a snorting laugh as two more men ran from the port and back to Los Barriles. A lightning strike in the bay illuminated Stella’s harsh silhouette, and Scully laughed harder, wiping spatters of rain from her eyes. Men running for their lives, citing the deathly name of Scully’s new travelling companion, the drama of their departure from the Blue Baron, Stella’s less than noteworthy complaints in lieu of deaths, frenzies, and mobs. The used bullets in her pocket, clinking together as she walked. Another bark of laughter escaped her, and Stella’s lips twitched.

“We should hurry to the ship, find you some dry clothes” Stella said, but there was an amused glint in her eye. She raised her arm and turned to the owl. “Go on,” she urged, wobbling her shoulder until it took off and disappeared into the night.

Scully stopped to catch her breath. When she lifted her head, salt water stung her cheeks. She couldn’t tell whether she was choking on laughter or sobs, whether she was dazed or entertained or shattered by the last few hours. Likely all three. “I’m sorry,” she wheezed, “it’s such a strange night.”

Stella made no response, only placed a hand on the back of her soaked coat and gave her a gentle nudge forward. “Time is of the essence,” she said softly. “I only have so many seconds ashore.”

Scully nodded, still giggling, and again they picked up the pace until they stood at the end of Los Barriles’s only sturdy loading dock. Grey waves crashed against the pier, spraying bursts of salt and foam into their faces. Scully could see no ship on the horizon, save a small fishing boat anchored just down shore of them.

Scully wrinkled her eyebrows. “Is the Flying Dutchman invisible, as well?” she mumbled, only half joking.

“Wait here,” instructed Stella. As she glanced again at the moon her voice sounded like a too-taut violin string. “Hold this, please.” She passed Scully her coat and feathered hat, now soaked in the rain, and before Scully could utter a word of assent or protest, jumped into the water.

“Stella!” Scully shouted into the waves. "Are you mad!" One would have to be mad to swim in this weather. Or in Stella's case, she realized, nigh unkillable. She wrinkled her nose sourly, hugged her arms to her chest, and waited.

Stella’s head surfaced at the foot of the dock, her blonde hair plastered to her face beneath a red bandanna. The waves bubbled before her, like a witch’s cauldron, and Scully backed away from the end of the dock, her hand on her pistol. The ornate hull of a boat broke the surface, followed shortly by its body and a set of six oars. Water splashed out of the rowboat, and as it bobbed on the massive waves, a candle lit upon it hull, burning even through the rain.

Stella swam toward her and with some effort, climbed unceremoniously into the boat, which held itself upright and floated just beside the dock as if by magic. Or, Scully supposed, actually by magic. Stella held out her hand. “My belongings?” she requested briskly. “You look as though your hands are full.”

Scully handed her the hat and coat, which she rested in her lap. Then she held out her hand again. “Climb aboard.”

“What a majestic ship.” Scully took Stella’s hand and stepped into the wobbling boat. She froze as her knees shook in the uneven waves and only sat down in a moment of calm.

Stella fitted her hat firmly back over her head. “The Dutchman is not able to withstand such shallow waters.”

“I know how ships work,” Scully muttered, her teeth chattering in the rain. This storm had brought with it a front of cold air, and soaked to the bone, Scully could hardly feel her fingertips. Stella looked unbothered, if a bit rosy from her impromptu swim. Seawater pooled at the pirate’s feet, sloshing around the dinghy as the rain collected, and sealed to her like a sleek second skin, her thin shirt revealed angular shoulders and toned muscle.

“Do you now?” Stella inquired slyly. She pointed to the bucket. “Empty the water.”

Assuming the order was directed to her, Scully cocked her eyebrow and crossed her arms, opened her mouth for a retort, but to her shock, the bucket filled itself and began dumping rainwater over the side. “Thank you,” said Stella. “Now, to the Dutchman.”

The six oars at their sides began to row, propelling them out to sea with the force of twenty men. Scully put her head in her hands, squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could manage, tried to drown out the sounds of thunder and creaking wood and oars rowing themselves through the rough water. Was she dreaming? Had she fallen asleep in the carriage on her way to Los Barriles and her imagination run wild whilst she dozed?

A wave broke over her head, soaking her face once more. She shook off her hair and collected herself. If she were being honest—and this concerned her even more than the supernatural forces surrounding her—she didn’t want this to be a dream.

As the dock disappeared from sight, and only the lights of Los Barriles indicated their bearings, Scully heard a rush beneath them like a river current in spring. “What is that?”

Stella shot her a wan smile. “That, Miss Scully, is the Flying Dutchman.”

A ship erupted grandly from the ocean as if putting on a show, its sails opening and ropes reaching for their dinghy to bring it in. Their rowboat was pulled toward the massive ship, and as it slowly lifted them aboard, Scully took a long look at the notorious Flying Dutchman now looming over her. Its sails glowed an eerie silver in the fog, and just as the barman had told her, countless crabs and barnacles clung to the auburn wood of its flanks. Coral sprouted just below one porthole and seaweed hung like a curtain over another. Carved into the hull, a wooden woman poised her sword and shield for war.

“Hoist the colors!” Stella called aboard, and Scully watched, awestruck, as the skull and crossbones raised itself until it flapped desperately in a merciless wind, just above the crow’s nest. A white dot appeared on the front sail, and Scully realized it was Stella’s owl perched comfortably, waiting for its companion.

Stella climbed aboard the ship first, then reached a hand down for Scully to follow. “Welcome aboard.”

She took Stella’s freezing hand and stepped onto the deck of the Flying Dutchman. To her surprise, it was completely dry, stable, and freshly polished to boot. The ropes stored their lifeboat along the ship’s starboard flank, draining it of any remaining rainwater. Scully heard a resounding creak as the ship’s wheel spun them Northbound, and three more sails opened above her head. Her mouth hung open, her eyes following the interactions of the Dutchman with itself like a stranger overhearing the conversations of long time friends.

“Let’s get you warm,” said Stella, guiding Scully off the deck as sea spray splattered the rails. She tossed her coat over her shoulder, then pointed to the wheel. “Set course for Triton’s Arch. Bear the weather; make detours if you must. Don't duck beneath the surface with Miss Scully here on board.” She pointed to the sails. “Be efficient,” then tapped the deck with her boot. “Don’t fire without my permission. Fetch me if there’s any trouble.”

She strode toward the Captain’s cabin just below the upper deck and beckoned for Scully to follow. Hesitantly, Scully ducked beneath the stairwell and into the cabin to find candles alight wherever Stella stepped and a young fire crackling in a surprisingly warm hearth. A massive, empty dining table took up the center of the room. She saw Stella’s coat laid out by the fire and followed suit with her own.

Before Scully could say a word, Stella stripped off her pistol and holster, sword and scabbard, and finally her wet shirt. Scully’s mouth fell open—she was not so much scandalized as taken by surprise; innocence and modesty were the most desirable, womanly traits back home, and Stella Gibson’s muscular back possessed neither. In fact, she found she liked that about Stella—how she casually flouted society’s bounds without a moment’s thought. She supposed pirates did not have the same overblown sense of propriety and self-denial as upstanding citizens, and she was coming to appreciate it.

When Stella turned around, Scully averted her eyes nearly on instinct, then lowered her hand slowly as Stella casually spread their clothes before the hearth and placed her pistol on the table. Stella was unembarrassed, Scully realized, so why should she be? Beneath the garments, they were all just skin and bone and battle scars. Still, she did her best not to stare. Not only was Stella uncommonly beautiful, but in the orange candlelight, old scars made themselves visible on Stella’s torso like ancient runes in the process of fading forever. Bullet holes in one side and out the other, what looked to be stab wounds from various swords, the distinctive line of a tenacious jellyfish running along her side. How many scenes like the Blue Baron had she walked out of unscathed?

“It looks tough, doesn’t it?” Stella shot her a half-smile, and Scully couldn’t tell whether it was proud or bitter.

“Yes,” Scully said. “How many times have you been struck with such a blow as to kill a man?”

“I don’t count when I can hardly feel it,” replied Stella. “Over time, the wounds fade to scars; the scars fade to nothing. I only get one day ashore every ten years. My deeds and presence rarely make men happy, and... well, you saw what I did at the Blue Baron.” She shrugged ever so slightly. "Pirate's life."

Scully wondered if Stella was the hero of those stories, or the villain, or both. “Was today your one day ashore, then?”

“It was.” Stella disappeared through a small door in the back of the room.

“I’m sorry then,” Scully called, “that your evening was interrupted.”

Stella reappeared carrying a slip, which she handed to Scully.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said. “Before tonight, it's been quite a dull time. It’s a rarity to have the company of a living soul aboard the Dutchman, even rarer that such company is welcome.” It would be horribly dull to be here alone for ten years—seeing the ship come to life, it occurred to Scully only now what the barman had meant when he said 'in the company of only the dead.' Stella had no crew beyond the ghost-manned ship itself.

Stella pulled a dry shirt over her head, and the scar on her chest disappeared once more. Once more, she looked alive, young, fully human. “To be honest, I was surprised you came," she said with a wry smile. “Few young pirates have courage to board the ship of Davy Jones. We're a superstitious lot, after all.”

Scully pulled the slip over her head. “Thank you, but I’m not a pirate. My father was a Lieutenant in Royal Navy.”

“So was mine,” said Stella with an air of finality to the subject. “Doesn’t change what I am.” She sat down at the head of the dining table, and setting her extravagant hat firmly back on her head, tapped the wall of the cabin. “A meal for two, if you will?” she asked the ship politely. She turned to Scully. "The kitchen will be a little while."

The ship rocked in a particularly large wave, winds howling outside their cabin. A crack of lightning lit up the window, and thunder clapped over them like a monster rearing for battle. Inside, candles flickered but did not go out.

#Television: The X-Files #television: the fall #scully x gibson #xf fic #dana scully #stella gibson

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preserving-ferretbrain · 6 years ago

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Not Quite a Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius

by Wardog

Friday, 26 December 2008

Wardog would have been impressed with The Pearls That Were His Eyes if she hadn't paid for it.~

The Pearls That Were His Eyes - a yarn of mythology and politics set in a baroque fantasy world, partly inspired by Shakespeare and partly by T.S. Eliot - is vanity published, which should have warned off any sensible person but since it's Xmas and I was feeling generous and it's creating something of a small-scale stir on LJ, I decided to give it a go, just on the off chance it was a heartbreaking work of staggering genius. Sigh. When I am I going to learn?

The thing is ... it's not ... bad ... actually. It's just the problem arises in that I paid money for it (and, yes, I know I that did voluntarily). It's probably symptomatic of my conventional nature or something, but I actually believe that books that don't get published don't get published for a reason. The Pearls That Were His Eyes is not a work of undiscovered genius that the publishing world is just too hidebound to recognise/appreciate - it's a promising book that needs a lot of work and a good editor. If someone (by which I mean the author, friend of the author, me - not a pirate, if you even get literature pirates) should ever giveyou this, then I heartily suggest you read it. It's well-written, imaginative, original and atmospheric. Do not, however, think about buying it because, in its current state, it's an amateur work with nothing to recommend it but potential.

The Pearls That Were His Eyes is set in the partially drowned, fog-wreathed city of Cittavecchio, which is, like most fantasy cities, a little bit of this, a little bit of that (in this case, London and Venice). It's a city with a dark, legend-shrouded past, suppressed and half-forgotten in the current Age of Reason. Needless to say the mythology of the city doesn't stay suppressed for long and rises up to consume the lives of, well, some dudes. I can't really summarise the plot much beyond that because ... it's not so much that it's incoherent as it's rather muted: there's a web of intrigue, there's a conclusion to the web of intrigue, but it's hard to really get a grip on what's going on.

Oh for God's sake: spoiler-time, let's try to untangle this:

So the City of Cittavecchio was drowned by the Old Gods for reasons not entirely specified except that they evidently didn't like it much. And The Tattered King, the Last King of the City, wanders around the edges of reality waiting for a moment to reclaim the city for himself again. And all the rich people go to parties and gossip all the time and wear masks and have masquerade balls and festivals. And all the poor people live in the Rookeries and are beggars and get killed. God knows how this city supports itself. And the Duca who rules the city is mad and corrupt - except we never really see this, so it's a bit hard to see why people are so down on the guy. And there's also a secret senate who are supposed to be the true power in the city. And there's a dude going around killing people in a particularly gruesome way. And there's this deck of tarot cards, right, called the Re Stracciati (the Tattered King) deck, that had been originally created to contain and control the spirit of the very city itself and was capable of drawing forth the spirit of the Tattered King. Wrap this all up in a motley of Shakespeare and T.S. Eliot and you get, if you'll forgive me, a heap of broken images: in short A Big Pile of Awesome with no actual structure to it.

What works about the Web o' Intrigue that leads, as you may suppose, to the very-near resurrection of the Tattered King is that it's a genuinely intriguing blending of huge political plots, personal vendettas, cruel coincidences and base human pettiness. It all comes together very satisfyingly indeed, except the journey to the point where it does is just a little bit tedious. For fantasy, it's a remarkably slim volume (weighing in at a mere 300 pages), so really you'd think, with all the necessary world and character building, it wouldn't have space to be dull. But somehow it manages. Part of the problem lies with the need to acquaint the reader with an already complicated personal/political background that has been created long before the story itself begins; therefore the book kicks off with an awful lots of "as you know your father the king" style exposition, which is both blatant and extraordinarily clumsily executed. Characters can tell other characters information they presumably already know for pages at a time. Let me quote you a chunk to demonstrate the magnitude of the problem:

'Is it worth taking [this quite significant information we've just gathered] to the Lord Seneschal yet?' 'No. Cittavecchi society is riddled with secret societies, clubs, political movements and the like. Masks breed them like flies. For the moment we have nothing more than my disquiet and a series of coincidences that seem too convenient to go on - that is not enough for any kind of legal process. If we have nothing but innuendo and we take it to the Seneschal, then he will take it to the Duca, and the first thing the Duca will do is order another round of hangings and gibbetings for no better reason than it is you and I who raise the matter. And if he executes any more members of the nobility on our say, it will probably trigger the very open revolt we seek to avoid at the moment and, worse, it will make our own position untenable. Everything is finely and I do not want to try and provoke and other of the Duca's funny turns. They are inevitably bloody in consequence.'

Aaaand breathe.

This problem is particularly marked at the beginning of the book, which is, you will agree, a particularly bad place for it to be marked. Although it eases off a bit as the plot (finally) picks up, the pacing as a whole remains awkward throughout. This isn't helped by shallow characterisation. The characters are painted in broad strokes but since they're all some variation on "courtier" (ruthless courtier, party courtier, naive courtier, hot courtier, woman courtier etc. etc.) and they all have extravagant Italianate titles, it's actually quite difficult to untangle them and their agendas. They all talk pretty much the same way and although they do have relationships with each other, it's hard to know why they think and act they way they do. Gawain, Lord d'Orlato and Xavier, Lord di Tuffatore are, apparently, in love but I never had any particular reason to believe in it or care about either the relationship or the inevitable shocking betrayal that accompanies it.

Actually since I've already spoilered this to oblivion and back, I may as well clarify. It turns that Gawain is the friendly neighbourhood serial killer, acting out of what he sees as being his "love" for Xavier, taking out those who threatened or inconvenienced his lover (handy). Their confrontation is genuinely arresting and dramatic, except it's got no context to it so it has no emotional resonance to it. Why does Gawain love Xavier enough to turn himself into a monster for the sake of it? And what on earth does Xavier see in Gawain?

This afflicts most of the characters in the book, although it seems less important for the others since they don't carry as much of the story. Essentially they're all cool but not interesting: little more than a parcel of bon mots and extravagant costuming. I know they're probably meant to be like that but it does leave the novel without any kind of emotional dimension. I think Xavier is meant to be the least psychotic of them and that we're maybe meant to like him, or at least be sufficiently invested him that his eventual fate is tragic ... but although I was sensible of the mechanics of said tragedy I didn't actually feel it.

This is not to say there's nothing to like about TPTWHE. There is good stuff in there. The city of Cittavecchio is trying very hard to be cool and, well, I have to admit it is pretty cool:

It's said ... that every night the Tattered King throws his cloak over the ancient and crumbling city, his constant lover and royal consort. Centuries ago ... the old Gods tried and failed to wash her iniquities away with the great deluge; she endured, half-drowned, half-dead, knee deep in silt water and floodwater, a sunken shadow of her Imperial past.

The whole brooding atmosphere of the book is excellent. And, despite having more than a whisper pretension about it, the Shakespeare / Eliot / tarot card motifs really contribute to it. Also Andrews writes well. I was rather taken with: "in his eyes, hysteria hovered like a solicitous relative, ready to take him by the arm and guide him into the gentle uplands of shrieking madness." And when it isn't bogging down in exposition, the rhythms of his dialogue are equally stylish:

'I have given a commitment to my brother ... and matters of policy must come before my own amusement.' 'It gratifies me nonetheless that you regard me as an amusement and not as a matter of policy...'

Unfortunately this isn't quite enough to pull TPTWHE together. It's a shame but a book I'd be willing to pay for is more than flair and imagination.Themes:

Books

Sci-fi / Fantasy

Self-Published

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Michal

at 00:52 on 2013-09-18This is an old article, but I'm gonna comment anyway 'cause that's how I roll.

I'm not sure if this restores my faith in conventional publishing as the article implies it should, since the book is, despite a shoddy cover and wandering plot, still apparently "well-written, imaginative, original and atmospheric." And this strikes me as a lot better than certain other debut novels that publishers have paid an advance for. I guess I'd want to know what the history behind this book was, if it was self-pubbed or vanity-pubbed from the get-go or if no one was interested in it or what, in that it obviously could have benefited from a professional editor or even the opinion of a good friend with an editing mind and the potential was there to make it a whole lot better. Or, in simpler terms: did Andrews simply release this book too early and should've worked on it more until he eventually found an agent, or should it have stayed in the trunk since no publisher would ever pick it up at all?

Mostly, it's a bit harsh to say "read this book if you don't pay for it" which seems to imply there some worth to the thing being printed in the first place, whereas large publishing houses have put out books where I really do wonder "what did any editor ever see in this thing?"

#Ferretbrain #Wardog #The Pearls That Were His Eyes #Ian Andrews #Self-published

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