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spencesglasses · 4 years ago

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sweet creature (spencer reid x f! reader) pt 4

a/n: i’m so sorry this took so long! power outages, school, and writers block is such a terrible combination for trying to write a fic. spence is back! and cat makes her first appearance hehe. it’s poorly edited because i wanted to get this out asap so ignore any errors, i’ll fix it in the morning. one more thing, despite spencer’s thing with germs, his love language is touch. i said what i said.

part one | part five

The restaurant had a cozy, warm atmosphere despite the teams intentions. Perhaps under different circumstances, the team would be here sitting at the bar, sipping on some alcohol they’ve never heard of, and chatting about any lad or lady they’d gladly go home with. But they were on a mission. Y/N tapped her foot against the leg of the chair, her heels clacking against the metal. She and JJ sat at the bar across the booth Spencer sat at, waiting for their target, Catherine Adams. She was a part of the group of hitmen that were targeting Penelope, and the team was determined to take them down. So there they were, using Spencer as bait to catch Miss. 45 with the rest of the team undercover.

Y/N felt a hand on her bouncing leg, looking down at it, and her eyes trailed up to meet JJ’s. “Y/N,” she says.

“Sorry,” she apologized, and crossed her leg over the other. Y/N looked back at Spencer at the table as he pulled a single rose out of his jacket pocket, placing it beside the plate the opposite of him. He met her eyes, giving her a tightlipped smile. She brought her attention to the woman making her way towards him and Spencer tore his eyes away from Y/N, looking up to Cat. Y/N cringed at the sight and twisted in her seat. “It’s gonna be a long night.” she mumbled to JJ before taking a swig of her drink.

“Spencer?” Cat smiled, waving slightly.

“Cat?” he stood up. “Hello!”

“Nice to finally meet you!” Cat went in for a hug, and Spencer blocked her.

“Oh, sorry, I have a germ thing,” he said. “I’m kind of weird with hugs.”

They stood there in silence, Cat rocking on her heels. Spencer fiddled with the ring on his finger and tried to avoid her gaze out of awkwardness. “Can I sit down?” she laughs slightly.

“Oh! Yes, please. Of course, sit down.”

Cat slides into her seat, taking her coat off in the process. Then it’s silent again and Y/N could practically feel the awkwardness radiating off the two from where she and JJ were sitting. “First time doing this, huh?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Yeah, I still get nervous too,” she admits. “Really, it wasn’t until an hour ago that I was like, wait, we’ve been trading emails back and forth, but I still have no idea what this guy looks like,”

“Hence the…” Spencer pointed to the rose in front of her.

“I know. And then I was like, wait, he’s going to bring a red rose, so we need to go to a nicer place, which is why I switched the restaurant last minute,”

Spencer interrupts her. “Not—Not a problem at all.”

“And now I need to change and put on something nice on for this place, ‘cause I was totally underdressed, and my whole wardrobe makes me look like a Kardashian,” she finished and saw Spencer’s eyebrows knit together. “You don’t know who that is, do you?”

“Oh, yeah, Robert Kardashian. He got O. J. Simpson off. You—You don’t look like his daughter.” he stutters

“Yeah, no, I was making a joke. A bad one.”

“No, it was good! It was a good joke.” Then there’s an awkward pause again. Spencer lets out a sharp exhale, trying to conjure up words to fill the looming silence.

“Can we start over? Hi. I’m Cat.” she said.

“Tell me about your wife,” Cat blurted, leaning her head against her palm.

Spencer stiffens in his seat and averts his eyes. “If you don’t mind, I’d, um, I’d rather not talk about her.”

“Might as well get it out in the open, right? That’s why we’re here.” said Cat. “How long have you been married?”

“4 years,” he lied.

“When is she due to give birth?”

Spencer clears his throat. “A couple months,” he straightens out his posture and leans forward across the table. “Should we talk about price now, or…”

Cat smirks, mirroring his actions. “Slow down, Tiger, what exactly are we negotiating here?”

“You know,” he ventured.

“I want to hear you say it.”

He ducked down lower and glanced over his surroundings. “To have her killed.”

“Let me see your ring,” she grinned.

Spencer extended his left hand, and Cat took his hand in hers. “You know what that is?” she asks, twisting the ring. “A noose. Only it doesn’t kill you all at once. It kills you slowly, day by day. You ever feel that way?”

“I feel that way all the time.” Spencer said.

“Take it off,” Cat urged.

“Why?”

“As a sign of your commitment,” she grinned, tapping her finger lightly against the table. “To me.”

Cat watched as Spencer slid the ring off his finger. She held out her hand, looking at him expectantly, and he dropped the ring in her palm. She inspects it carefully as if she’s looking for something.

“24-karat?”

“Mhm.”

“24k times 4 years means this ring should be dinged and nicked, but the sucker is brand new,” she tossed the ring at him. “You’re not married.”

From under the table, Spencer could hear Cat arm the gun that she hid.

“Why are we here, Spencer?” Cat interrogated.

“We’re here because you belong to a network of 4 hitmen who’ve been operating in the shadows of the internet. You’re known as Miss. 45. My team and I have been hunting you for months and I knew if I boxed you in, I could arrest you with as little resistance as possible.”

“Your team being the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. You guys are good. You’re the only ones that got close to use, but we got kind of close to you, too, didn’t we?” Cat countered, leaning closer to Spencer. “Hi, Penelope.”

“Do you know why I’m so good at my job?”

“Because you kill without compunction or remorse.” Spencer answered.

“That only gets a girl so far in life. No, it’s because I think through every potential outcome, and then I plan accordingly. You see, I didn’t walk into your trap,” Cat chided. “You walked into mine. Where’s your head, Spencer? What are you thinking about?” she moves herself closer to Spencer, keeping eye contact with him.

“I was thinking about entropy,”

“Mhm,” Cat slides her hand across his torso, into his coat.

“It’s the thermodynamic measure of the degradation of matter and energy in the universe. To put in another way-” Spencer jumped as she reached into his pocket.

“There’s your gun.”

“You think-”

“Good evening,” the server interrupts him.

“Hi, uh, you know what? We’ve been having so much getting to know one another, we’ll let you know when we’re ready, okay? Thank you.” Cat tells the man. “Now that we got that out of the way, will you do me a favor and tell pretty girl and blondie mcblonderson over there at the bar to disappear?’

“JJ, Y/N, stand down,” JJ and Y/N heard Hotch say through their earpiece.

The two women got up from their seats, and JJ extended her hand to her, Y/N taking her hand in hers. They started towards Spencer and Cat and Y/N kept eye contact with him as they walked past his booth.

“Thanks for playing, girls,” Cat snickered, waving goodbye to them mockingly.

JJ tightened her grip on Y/N‘s hand and she squeezed back. “If she learns how many agents we have outside, she’ll start shooting,” Hotch said. “Dave, get ready to take her out. Reid, do not let her get up from the table.”

“She was cute,” Cat said, her eyes trailing over Y/N’s figure. “Too bad I’m stuck with you. She seems like fun,”

She caught Spencer tighten his jaw and hardened his gaze on her. “What’s the matter, Spencie?”

Spencer feels his chest tighten, staying silent for a brief moment. He pushes down the feeling deep inside him and he regains his posture. “Tell me what you want and I’ll see if I can get it here for you.”

“Anything I want?” Cat drawled, smirking as she glanced at Y/N disappearing into the back of the restaurant. Spencer follows her gaze and quirks a brow.

“Off limits.” Spencer deadpanned.

“You’re no fun,” she pouted. “Fine. Is this just a plan to distract me from what is, I’m sure, an impressive law enforcement response just outside that door?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Ok, let’s talk, but let’s talk about something interesting, at least. Tell me about me.”

“You?” He asked her and she nods eagerly in response. “You’re a black widow hit woman. You specialize in seduction and you’re patient. You learn everything you can about the men you’re hired to kill, physically, psychologically, and emotionally because you want them in as compromised a position as possible so they don’t see it coming when you pull the trigger,”

“And when I do it really well, they pull the trigger themselves,” she said, making Spencer raise a brow. “Give me your phone.”

“Why?”

“Because I know what I want now. I wanna play a game with you, do you like games?”

“I do.”

“Do you win?” she challenged.

“I always win.”

“Okay, here's my game, you have 30 minutes to answer every question I ask and if you lie, I’ll know,” Cat explains, pulling up a timer on Spencer’s phone. “Because I spent the past 10 years of my life studying men and their lies before I kill them. Do you believe me?”

“I do.”

“That was true, you’re getting this. Now, here’s how we’ll know who wins at the end of 30 minutes. If you win, you’ll get to drag me out of here in handcuffs. But if I win, you will escort me out like a gentleman, to make sure I exit safely. What do you say, Spencer? Think you can win this one?”

Spencer quirked up a brow and gestured for her to come close. “Considering everything you put Garcia and so many people through, you’re going to have to shoot me in the face before you walk out of here.”

A sly smirk etched onto Cat’s face. “Game on.”

“What do you want to ask me?”

“How you found me, of course,” she presses start on the timer, starting the 30 minutes. “A professional learns from her mistakes.”

“We got our big break in the case at the end of last year. I didn’t learn how big until I came back from some time off,” he clarified.

“Why’d you take time off?”

“That’s not relevant,”

“That's not the game,” she nagged. “You answer every question I ask. Is it a secret?”

“No,”

“Is it dirty?”

Spencer grimaced at her question. “No,”

“Then tell me.” she frowned.

“It’s not important to your story.”

“Out of curiosity, is it me you don't want to tell or the people listening in?”

He tilted his head, remaining eye contact with her, and he glanced down at the ongoing timer. He could do something with this. Stall her, Spencer thought. “Is this really how you want to spend your 30 minutes?”

“Yes,” Cat answered eagerly. “No… Okay, so you showed up for work one morning and..”

“We learned that someone unexpected decided to talk.”

She hummed in response, lightly dragging her finger against the grains of the wood table. “So your job, all you guys do is make deductions based on information that is basically handed to you on a silver platter, no? Are you guys really profilers or are you just lucky? Because this is what I’m about to say is profiling, the reason you took time off from work was to deal with the same girl who broke your heart.” Spencer shook his head, letting Cat continue. “The death of a parent, then.”

“Nope,”

“Ah, hello! I’m getting close. It’s your mom or dad in the billiard room with the candlestick,”

Cat smirks at Spencer’s silence. “Oh, you’re making the same face you made when I mentioned our pretty girl over there… you’re mad at me, aren’t you?” Cat taunts.

“Yes, you are. I can tell.”

“Not even a little bit.”

Spencer leans closer to her, furrowing his brows. “No offense, but you're not really worth getting angry at.”

Cat squints her eyes. “So you figured out what the four of us did, and then what?”

“We profiled that you operated as spokes on a wheel. Somehow it had to be centralized, how you got jobs, who paid you. Somebody did all that for you.”

“You found the Snowman, didn’t you?”

“Mhm,”

“You took the Chemist and the Snowman out of commission, huh?” she scoffed.

“Did you know?”

“I knew something was off. They didn’t bid on some contracts, and this isn't the kind of job where you get to take time off to be with your…” she tilts her head, pursing her lips. “Mother? Is it your mom? It’s gotta be your mom.”

Spencer shrugged in response, and Cat continued. “Why’d you take time off from the FBI?”

“I’m not going to tell you,”

“Spencer, why did you take time off from the FBI?” she enunciated, drawing out each syllable.

“You can ask me as many times as you want, and you can continue to waste your time, but I’m still not going to tell you.”

“Then you’re cheating, and I don’t like cheaters.”

“You don’t get everything you want just because you’re pointing a gun at me under a table. You’re not the first killer to point a gun at me, you’re not even the first woman to point a gun at me. Sorry.” Spencer said sternly.

“You’re really going to take this all the way, aren't you?”

“Yeah,”

“So am I,” Cat challenges. In the corner of her eye she sees a man stand from his seat, her eyebrows knit together and she slides even closer to Spencer. “I’m going to ask you one more time. Before you say no, I want you to consider something,” she reaches to Spencer’s tie, uncovering a small microphone attached. Cat folds the sides and holds it tight in her hand, muffling it. “I’ll kill the fed walking toward me first. A stationary target’s easy to hit after that, it's a free-fire zone.”

“Fine, I’ll tell you,” he gives in.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I’ll tell you.” Spencer asserts, enclosing Cat’s wrist with his long fingers and setting her own hand in her lap. “Rossi, stand down,” he says and looks over his shoulder, seeing the other man standing over the two. “Please.”

With a nod, Rossi slowly retreats to the team’s designated area. Meanwhile, JJ and Y/N stood impatiently at the kitchen's doors, waiting for the go ahead to move out, but once they saw the familiar tufts of black and gray hair, they were quick to meet Rossi halfway.

“Welcome to the locker room.” JJ huffed.

“I hate the locker room.”

“Ditto.” Y/N added, crossing her arms. The trio stood side by side, trying to stay out of the staff's way as much as possible. After all, they are seating a whole team of FBI agents and one of the most dangerous women in the world. The least they could do is to be polite, right? Y/N peaked out the window of the kitchen door and scanned the tables until she caught eyes with Derek who sent a wink her way. She nodded and retreated back into the kitchen. “Lewis and Morgan are still out there,” she said, claiming her spot besides JJ. “If anything goes wrong, they’ll-”

“Shh…” Rossi hushed, placing his index finger over his lips.

Y/N opened her mouth to speak again, but quickly shuts it when she heard Spencer’s voice through her earpiece.

“My mother has schizophrenia, and the doctor has changed her medication, which seemed to agitate her, so I went to the treatment center to help her,” Spencer said. Y/N touched her earpiece as if it would make her hear him more clearly.

“That’s it?” The three of them heard Cat’s muffled voice.

“That's it.”

“That’s part of the truth, you’re holding something back.”

“It’s the truth.”

“To be clear, you have zero control here. None.” she remarked. “I outflanked you from the beginning.”

“Some of your moves were pretty obvious,”

“Such as?”

“Such as showing up armed, such as changing the venue at the last moment,”

“I needed a restaurant full of innocents in case this was a trap,.” Cat interjected.

“If you really suspected this was a trap, then why show up at all? Even when you first laid eyes on me, from the bar, from outside, from wherever you were, you should have seen through me and kept moving, but didn’t,” he interrogates. “You couldn’t because you can’t get to the man you really want to hurt, so you need to hurt any man who reminds you of him.”

“That’s kind of boilerplate psychology, isn't it?” Cat says, staring at him blankly with tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m just another girl with daddy issues,”

“You’d be surprised how many killers do what they do because of their parents. If it’s so boilerplate, why don’t we test that theory? How hard did you look for him?”

“Very hard.”

“And how disappointed were you when you realized you will never find him? You need some other outlet for your rage and for a while this worked, but it also tripped you up. Can I tell you a little secret? Everything eventually falls apart. The trick is accepting when it’s over.”

On the trio's end, it goes completely silent and the only thing they could hear was the sound of the surrounding kitchen, then suddenly they hear a stopwatch ring. The thirty minutes was up. It’s not going to be that easy, Y/N thought.

“Except it ain't over, is it?” They hear Cat ask.

“Do you really think I’m just going to let you walk out of here?”

Cat leans forward in her seat, staring Spencer down. “You profiled so much about me, except you forgot to ask the most important question. Why would I make you sit here for thirty minutes?”

“Because you’re stalling.” he answers quickly.

“Then you don’t know me at all. Do you think I’d show up here without an escape plan? Or is that just another girl with daddy issues would do? Maybe if you hadn’t fallen victim to your own gender bias — and yes, all men have a gender bias, even you, Dr. Reid — you would have recognized that your entire strategy was based on one faulty detail. Can you see it?”

“You’re not here alone,” Spencer attested, making Y/N and the other’s head perk up.

“And my partner? Less paranoid than you think.”

“You planted a bomb in the building.”

JJ, Y/N, and Rossi looked up at one another at the same moment and were quick to their feet. “We’re on the move.” JJ said.

“Wait,” Cat blurted. “Your mother—tell me.”

Spencer caught his lip between his teeth and averted his eyes. “Is—is this apart of the game?”

“No. The game’s over.”

He tightened his fist in the sleeve of his jacket, fiddling with the fabric, and refused to lock eyes with the woman in front of him. “When I looked at her medical chart, it… didn’t make any sense. The medication that they gave her should have been helping, but I couldn’t figure out what was making her so angry. So… I, uh,” he swallows the lump in his throat. “I went to see her. The moment I walked in her room, I saw it. For 3 seconds… she didn’t know who I was. I, um, I had her tested that morning, and I found out that night that she had early onset Dementia. Most likely Alzheimer's.” Spencer sniffled.

On Y/N’s end, the three of them were silent. They stood there in the brooding silence and winced when they heard Cat speak. “Did you get yourself tested?”

“Did you know about this?” JJ whispered to Y/N.

“Not entirely.” she murmured back.

“You were too scared,” Cat said, matter-of-factly.

“I thought I dodged a bullet when I turned 30 and didn’t have a schizophrenic break like her, but this is somehow bigger and scarier because I can actually see it happening. All the memories that we used to share are just dying. I can’t stop it. I can’t help her. All I can do is find people that I can help.” Spencer said, unclenching his fists, and finally meeting her gaze. He was angry, but he didn’t truly know who to be angry at — at Cat for making him spill his guts while his entire team listened in? Or at himself for not trying hard enough to avoid this confrontation? He knew, deep down, that no one was to blame, but in the moment, he’d rather put the blame on something than confront the hurting.

Just as Y/N was about to speak again, a beeping sound came from where they found the bomb and she moved quickly, grabbing Rossi’s and JJ’s wrist and swiftly pulling them along towards safety. “Hotch, she just armed the bomb!”

Besides a few disruptions, the team ended the case safely and successfully put both Cat and her partner behind bars. The team went their separate ways with the exception of Derek, Spencer, Y/N, and Penelope. Y/N walked between the two men as they made their way to Derek’s front porch to meet Penelope and Savannah. Y/N’s arms swung slightly as she walked, her hand brushing against Spencer’s a few times, and a frown crept up her face when Spencer defensively tugged his hand closer to him. She stopped for a moment, and they followed her lead.

“So…” Derek starts. “You two want to come in, decompress a bit?’

Y/N and Spencer glanced at each other for a brief moment, waiting for the other to speak first.

“I’m good.”

“I would love to.”

They said in unison.

“I’m probably just gonna go home,” Spencer said, clearing his throat and shuffling his feet across the pavement.

“You sure?” Y/N pouted.

“It was an intense case, kid.” Derek added.

“Yeah… it was. It’s over now, the network is down.”

“Spence,” Y/N says quietly, stepping closer to him. “That medical research I asked you about… was that..”

“Yeah.” he whispered, his eyebrows knitting together.

“You are going to get tested, aren’t you?” Derek asked him.

Spencer lets out a soft exhale and tries to look anywhere but their eyes. “One of the data points that her research told me about was age. I’m, uh, too young to display chromosomal signs, so I’m just gonna have to… learn to live without knowing.”

“Spence…”

“Oh, my god!” They heard Garcia squeal from the porch.

“Oh, hey, hey, hey, what is happening here?” Derek swoops to catch her stumbling down the front steps.

Spencer peeks in front of him, catching a glimpse of a very drunk Penelope Garcia. A wide smile flickers across his face, the dimples in his cheeks looking more prominent under the streetlights. And Y/N can’t help but stare at him in awe. She loves seeing Spencer so happy; he deserves it. He’s told her stories about his past traumas and Y/N wished she could take away all his pain, all of his hurting. Spencer took a quick glance at Y/N when he felt eyes on him, and she giggled at the light pink growing on the apples of his cheeks.

“You’re what’s going on! Right now is what’s—You are here! Do you know what’s happening right now?” Penelope exclaimed, placing her hands on Derek's biceps. “It is- It is done! The dirty dozen is done!”

Spencer let out a loud laugh, making Y/N quickly look at him, and this time, he started laughing harder when they met eyes. Y/N couldn’t contain the feeling in her heart, smiling harder than she’s had in a while, but she jumps when she feels a hand engulf hers. Her eyes trailed down her arm to her hand and looked up to Spencer with beaming eyes. She squeezed his hand, rubbing her thumb along his knuckles.

“—I love you,” Penelope says endearingly to Derek, then points to Spencer and Y/N behind him. “And you two! I love you guys so much!”

Penelope grabbed Y/N’s free hand, engulfing her in a hug. She hugged back with the same amount of force, and Penelope pulled away for a moment to bring in Savannah. “I should be jealous of you because you two are so hot, but I’m not. I’m not. I promise, I’m not! ‘Cause you know what? All I feel inhere is love. I am feeling full of love! So much love. I’m wearing too many clothes.” she spins on her heels, hurriedly making her way back inside. Y/N hid a giggle behind her palm and continued after her, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her steady.

“We got this.” Savannah told Derek and Spencer through giggles.

“Bye, Spence!” Y/N shouted from inside the house.

Spencer's smile widened and in the moment, all he could feel was love. No hurting, no anger, just love for the people he cares for most. Regardless of what happened today, he knew that everything was going to be okay. It had to be okay.

a/n: who’s gonna tell spence that this is only the beginning because...

as always, feedback is always appreciated <3

tag list: @eevee0722 @ceeellewrites

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds fanfic #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas · 4 years ago

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A weird request but I'm shooting my shot: Kohga did such a good job of shapeshifting into Urbosa in AoC... any chance he'd try to do it again just to see what it's like to fuck in a female-presenting body? 😅

Oooooh this is a SPICY idea. You guys have such good ideas, it's impossible to get anything else done around here. Let me tell you how I'D think it'd go.

Kohga loved men. Big, burly men who could throw him across the room like a rag doll, fuck his ass into oblivion, and only call him back when they wanted another spin. Unfortunately, getting fucked was growing tiresome. Wild of HIM to say, he was aware. But as he sat there at a stable, drinking and being alone, he realized; there were so many men here, and while he could charm his way into their pants, he wanted to mix it up. Then it occurred to him. He could go for the straight boys. The cuties who'd give their boots up for a chance to talk to a girl. So.

Why not BE just that dream girl for a night? Finishing off his drink, he walked out of the stable, and stepped foot outside. He used the tranquil river water as a mirror, and sgape shifted into Urbosa.

"Er...maybe not her. If she found out, not even Sooga could save me. Let's keep the base, change a few things here…"

Long, red hair, right up to the ass (Kohga was most saddened to see this go, but unfortunately Gerudo women could NOT handle that kinda power), held up in a simple ponytail. Nice, full nose, plush pink lips, and of course, those trademark gerudo hips. Couple that with a nice red skirt (long enough to cover, but not completely. Men loved some leg), and a nice top piece that BARELY pardoned itself from being a bra. He had to hand it to himself, he got CANS. A little bit of jewelry, some heels, and he looked BEGGING to get fucked.

"Alright….'Kiki', let's get you some dick. Kiki sounds right. Assuming they'll even remember me past these titties."

He walked back inside, casually, and holy SHIT did he get looks. Starved boys eager for a meal, and Kohga was SERVING. He fought the urge to grin, and put up a docile front. Gerudo women were strong, fierce, but not this one. At least, not yet. He wanted to draw these poor unfortunate souls in before he showed any of his true colors.

"Excuse me, I hate to bother you, but may I sit with the three of you? I hate to be all by my lonesome."

Watching them scatter to get him a chair was hilarious, he nearly busted up laughing. The cute one with white hair beat them to it though, and Kohga nodded in appreciation.

"Thank you. That was terribly sweet of you."

A little scratch to the chin nearly sent the guy to the floor. How cute. One of the men tried not to sound too giddy, but he failed.

"So! What's your name? And how come you're here by yourself?"

"Kiki. And I was supposed to meet someone for a date, but...well. That was hours ago. I wanted to walk back home, but it's so cold, and it's so far...I didn't want to be alone."

Course that riled them up. A beautiful woman, heart broken and lonely? Straight guys ate that bullshit up like pigs to slop.

"What?! No way, someone stood you up?"

"What an idiot!"

"And rude! Giving such a pretty lady a hard time!"

"Would I deserve a hard time if I wasn't beautiful?"

He watched as the red headed guy stammered, worried he fucked up, before Kohga tossed his head back and laughed, lightly swatting his hand.

"Oh come on, I'm just giving you a hard time!"

The three of them chuckled in relief, and Kohga couldn’t believe he was just. SO charming, form be dammed. He folded one leg over the other, and noticed their eyes followed. No one could REALLY resist gerudo legs.

"So what are YOU three doing here on your own? Waiting on your lady friends?"

They all went silent on that question, and he faked surprise. No shit they were single. Only whores wanted these losers, cute as they were (he was the whore, case there was any confusion there).

"Sa'oten! You three absolute adorable voes? All alone? Well. Least that means no one will be upset with me if I do this."

He scanned over his pick of the litter, and decided on the one with long, brown ish hair. He was a bit thin from being a dream boat, but he was honestly pretty damn cute. He held onto that sharp chin, and pulled him into a nice, long kiss. He kept it slow, smooth, really putting on a show for the other two. How greedy their eyes were. He peeled away from him, not even trying to hide his massive grin. They gawked at him, completely stunned that some gerudo woman was suddenly all over them. He fixed his smudged makeup, before folding his arms over his chest, right under his massive rack.

"Now, I don't mean to be rude, but I'm rather parched. Which of you boys wants to buy me a drink?"

You've never seen three men raise their hands up so quickly in all your life.

"No please, I do believe I've had enough!"

'Kiki' laughed, swatting away another offer for a drink. He made these three send so many rupees on him. Drinks, flowers, and lots, and lots of food. He couldn’t help it. The way they threw themselves at her at any opportunity just made him absolutely giddy. Though he was happy he cut himself off, less he be too tired for the REAL main course of the night. After some pretty eyes (and a mourning wallet), Kohga got them to pay for a room, just for the four of them. Course, Kiki was far too tipsy to walk there on her own, so they had to help her into the large, plush bed. In reality he just wanted to be carried, but hey, he deserved the special treatment.

"Oh...Sarqso. You three made my night much less lonely."

He could tell these guys were lost. They didn't know if she was inviting them to join, so Kiki had to make it rather obvious. He un did the strap to the bra, before peeling it away, and letting it fall to the floor. God, he really did give himself a pair of double D's, even he had to take a quick second to admire them. He pointed to the one who hadn't gotten any affection all night (a cute stable hand with messy, messy hair), and gestured him forward.

"Please. Allow me to return the favor."

He hesitated, clearly nervous, before Kiki took his hands, and placed them right at her chest. Granted Kohga wasn't much of a chest guy, but it seemed unfair to NOT let them play with them. And play with them he did. He cupped and massaged at her chest, all while Kiki raked her fingers through his hair. Such a cute boy. She turned her glance to the other two, and she sighed, as if full of woe.

"I don't think he'll let me reach over to take off the rest of these pesky clothes. Would one of you be a dear and-"

The white haired man jabbed the other in the gut, beating him to the bed. It made Kiki laugh, and she helped him by lifting her legs. Off came the skirt, and the pretty little panties. A nice patch of red hair highlighted that fair, dark skin. Kohga just couldn’t stop being fine. She no longer felt the need to bark orders, and let the boys do as they pleased. For now. One kept playing with her tits, occasionally suckling on them, one kept rubbing his tongue over hers, and the last fellow was copping a good feel for her legs. She chuckled as she parted the kiss, gliding her hand across his scalp, before getting a handful of that nice, red hair.

"Hmmm...you boys are excited. I like that, really I do. Now, pants down, let me see my new toys."

She had no problems playing with her breasts as motivation, occasionally pinching and flicking at her own nipples. She wanted to drool. A cock with an upward curve, one that was straight, and one that seemed to curve downward. Fun variety. She ended up with the upwards curvy one, and the white haired man had no qualms rubbing it in their faces. He loomed over her, rubbing his hard cock against her clit, making Kiki jump a bit. That was...sensitive. He looked at her confused, before she giggled.

"Sorry, guys usually hit it from the back, so this is a first. Don't do me gentle though, I'm a real tough cookie."

He nodded, pushing his tip inside those wet pussy lips. It was enough for her to arch her back, biting her bottom lip. Oh, he was going to get fucked SO good. He started to move slowly, letting her get used to him, before she motioned for the other two.

"Come on, I still have a mouth and a hand for you boys~"

The red head and his little friend rose to the opportunity. Hell, bed head made it more fun by riding her pretty face. Not just shoving his whole cock down her throat, not JUST shoving those balls in her face, but letting him toy with her huge, perfect titties. Kiki used her free hand to stroke the other cock in her hand, and she was in heaven. Her lips sucked and slurped at cock, smearing lipstick and drool all over it, her hand pumped that cock in her hand, and her pussy seemed to welcome the steady thrusts of a nice, full cock.

"Come on boys, be a bit MEAN to me here!"

Kiki complained, pulling her face away from the nice, throbbing cock for a moment. She was about to talk so much more shit, before the boys started to take the hint. One started to slap and yank at her breasts, one rubbed her clit in fast, aggressive circles, and one wrapped his hands around her throat, forcing her to gag and slobber all over that cock. She could feel drool dribble down her face, feel her pussy juices soak onto the sheets, and she even found her titties slick with little dribbles of her own milk. You'd think, as a gay man, this would be super gross.

You'd be wrong. Getting throat fucked, getting a new hole absolutely RAMMED, not to mention huge, slick breasts that seemed irresistible to a good suckling, Kohga was in absolute heaven. So much so that when the man above her pulled away, letting her breathe, she was moaning like a total whore.

"Oh you boys are BAD. Come on, fuck me. Cover me in all that hot cum, shove it right inside of me too. I want to taste how hungry you boys are for me, I wanna feel your hot cream inside of me. So pull up your FUCKING girdles, and FUCK ME."

Kiki was a VERY demanding woman. And despite the submissive posture, she was VERY much in charge. They kept as she commanded, harder, faster, swears under their breaths, the room filled with the yummy sound of horny, lust filled men. Then they came. Oh they came. Kiki felt a load shoved in her throat, felt ribbons of cum land on her tits and her stomach, and finally, finally, cum right into her pussy. Kohga held his legs nice and high for that, crying out in relief. Oh, so much thick, delicious cum from those nice, juicy cocks. They sat there, throwing their seed at her, before they seemed to pull away. Kiki finally found her breath, and she couldn't help but chuckle.

"Oh...you boys needed that. All this tasty cum, just for me."

Kiki pushed them off of her, before getting on her hands and knees, shaking her butt from side to side.

"Now. I want one under me, one in the back, and one in the front."

There was no movement, and she slammed her fist into the wall beside her.

"Dicks. Now."

In both arousal and fear, they gave her what she wanted. One snaked underneath her, pushing his cock into her already stuffed hole, while one pushed himself right into her ass. Now THAT was an all too familiar sensation. She chuckled, massaging the balls in front of her.

"Oh, and spank me. Lots of spanking. I want it to-ooh!"

Kiki didn't wait long before an open palm struck her bare ass. She giggled, shoving her face against the cock in front of her.

"Ooh you are a MEAN boy. Do it again, mark my ass-oh shit!!~"

One thing Kohga and Kiki had in common; they both LOVED a good, hard spanking. That, and the notion of LOTS more cum. And neither were scared to work for it.

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

Kiki looked back at the slumbering pile of men next to her. Five rounds each, she pulled a nice fifteen loads from these horny lil puppies. Not too bad for Kiki, but for Kohga? Bit on the weak side. Kiki was just as cruel though; making them kiss each other for her, making them lick and slurp at her cum soaked pussy- they did everything she wanted. She fixed herself up a bit, lapping any cum she had left on her face (no wasting food here), and tossing her useless panties on the pile of slumbering men. Just for something for them to fight over later, before walking out of the stable. Sooga was there, just how he commanded.

"There you are! I'm ready to go home!"

Sooga looked her up and down, questionably.

"May I ask...why?"

"Can't I just look pretty? Besides, I'm finally your height now!"

Kiki wrapped her arms around him, stuffing his face in her bust. He groaned, raising a hand in objection.

"I MUCH prefer Master Kohga’s chest, if you don't mind."

Kohga giggled, leaping into his arms and turning back to his usual, perfect self.

"You want Kohga’s chest, eh? Come on, let's go home. I'm in the mood to indulge you a little, Soogy~"

Kohga was FAR from done for tonight.

#asks #kohga #lemon #listen #kohga would lowkey be into getting milked

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datarevived · 4 years ago

Text

-- Ⅴ : ᴀ ᴍᴀɴ ɴᴀᴍᴇᴅ ᴄᴀʏᴅᴇ

” – We do not ask that all Guardians fight. That is a choice for them to make their selves, and in doing so, your decision to make, as well. We cannot ask you to risk life after life, fighting for something you do not believe in. But if I might be able to give one simple request -- think it over, Guardian.

There is none to stop you. Nor will we see you as any less.“

. . .

" I don't want to talk about it right now. "

Like a blanket did uneasiness wrap around her being, snug and tight as words played back in rhythm to her mind. A gnawing ache, something that didn't feel the same way they were spoken, that there was something between the lines she was missing and gods for it, she didn't have the patience nor energy to try.

Part of her wanted to dismiss it all, that it was just revival jitters - revival jitters? is that what she's calling it? already poorly accepting the idea after several days that she had indeed died, and was brought back, all in the span of a blinking light that followed her every move. That no one in their right mind would be comfortable with something so jarring, that it was natural to be afraid and paranoid of what was to come. Not everyone would jump into a war so willingly, not unless they were truly involved or hampered. Right?

Or was this just her failure attempt to turn a blind eye, a deafen ear to the remains of what had been this planet. This species, he had called it. If so much was at the brink of destruction... why bother coating it in sugar-filled lies that it was an option, that it was a choice, that there fell no consequence to those who refused or did not understand enough to lay themselves proper to the cause?

Nothing came without bargain. Nothing came without consequence. So why?

A memorizing mess of critical thinking and auto-pilot motive, not even conscious to where her feet had led her next after leaving the Commander out in his perch. No, she just wanted to go away - to breathe fresh air, one that wasn't taint by some means of authority that wanted to treat her idle. That perhaps, indefinitely, that coming to the City would be a mistake, and that she'd feel more comfortable being back in the hole she died in.

Hah.

To die and stay dead, that was what their species had meant to do, and yet some foreign object decides to tell them otherwise. An entity these people seemingly knew little about, and yet trusted it so much with everything in their being. It was an absolutely terrifying thought - to put everything into the unknown. Or was it that she was just so closed out in accepting something naturally common - that all of this, was how the world worked. That it was she, who wasn't making sense and making a mess of things.

Clarity, where are you?

Disgruntled features lured to the sounds of panned metal and tools, it is a subconscious effort to silence her own mind. Through several stairwells and open guard rails to the sky, lights sparking upon ships and carriers that failed to detail in her peripheral. The Awoken had come across the Hanger -- a place still untraveled as feet carry her between poles and support, looking for any reason to procrastinate her mind. A blur of people, each without distinct features as she felt her head dizzy, just continue walking forward, you're bound to get somewhere. Anywhere far from the pull of the Light, unwillingly to accept that it walked each step with her, always there -- always fleeting.

" Hey -- Hey! You! Aye, watch it, you're gonna -- ! "

It's a slice of air that grazes her face that brings her back to the present, doe-eyed features blinking betwixt mechanical pieces that flew inches from her face. Her breath, stalled beneath her throat as a step is taken back instinctively, putting space between she and the injured ship as tools rocked back and forth, pushing out dents and rubbing out scars of war. Had she taken a step too forward, it would have been off with her head -- another mess completely, to add to the list of damages and cosmetics to whomever was waiting their repairs.

Where... was she, again?

" Whoah we geez, louise! What are ya, deaf? You nearly got yourself ping-ponged across the room! "

That voice again - attention turned in favor to its' keeper, a cloaked Exo with narrowing blue optics and face plates to match. Yet compared to Bex and few others she had run into thus far, admittedly far detailed in its' face and expression, a light orange hue igniting in the back of its' throat as it panted in sprint towards her being.

" I'm all for you guys playin' your games and dares, but, can ya keep it outta the work space? Please? Amanda's done bickered me to death about leaving tools and Hunters around, getting in the way and all -- speaking of which, you're missing your cloak, hurt my feelings a bit but I'll forgive you just this once -- " it blinks, male tone scraping each syllable as it examined Selene head to toe, " --You, are a Hunter, right? Or did Ikora send you? Did she send you? Man, she really doesn't believe in my work ethnic, does she? I told her, I'm stayin here for at least a day - theeen maybe a little road trip, nothin too detailed, but I mean if you want work done, gotta do it yourself, you know? "

" I..- ? "

It was a desperate attempt to keep up with the man at this point, nerves suddenly overtaking the body once more as she gripped tightly at the shirts' end of stomach, unable to keep her eyes still and her breathing paced. Who was this guy? And why did he talk so... much?

" I don't... I-Ikora didn't send me, I - "

" Oh? She didn't? Good, good... wait -- but you're Awoken. Did Mara send you? Is she back? Is she here, on Earth, right now? "

" I -- who?? "

A blink -- servo optics taking a moment before squinting back at her. The Exo raises a hand before speaking again, index finger pointed in her general direction as he began to play out the riddle he'd wrap himself about.

" You're... joking? Right? ... Not, joking? Not joking. That's -- unfortunate. "

" I don't... understand what you're talking about... "

" Then we're at least on the same page, " he gives a half single nod, voice having picked up some, as if impressed. " Okay, okay. You... Ikora didn't send you. Mara didn't send you. Look too... nah, Zavala woulda sent someone bigger. Meaner, too. So that would make you... new? " an uncertainty upon last word, he tilts his head in favor of hearing her out. Like a child, waiting for approval to something truly magnificent.

" I'm... I.. guess? " Selene speaks, brows furrowing up and down in perplexed confusion, shrugging shoulders as she did so but not a finger lifted from the fabric that kept her steady. " I just got to the Tower a few days ago, and I've... talked? to Ikora? and Zav..la? B-But I'm... I don't.. "

" Wait, wait. Hold on, " the Exo interrupts, realigning his posture and waving his hands in front of himself. " You've already talked to Ikora AND Zavala? And you're new? And we're JUST now meeting? Am I getting this right? "

" Uh... "

" Which means, out of all the important people you've met so far - what about the bird lady? "

" Hawthorne? "

" Weapons? "

" Uh... Ban... Banshee? "

" Old man who never shuts up? "

" He.. he's near Banshee?? "

" Crucible!? "

" The ... man who... yells a lot...? "

" And we're JUST now getting to me? I'm last?! Oh, come on -- " the Exo spirals, flinging his arms in the air as if distressed. Never mind the hurt that sounded in his voice over the matter, as if things had been terribly out of order. " I'm the best one here! And they, none of them -- neither of them mentioned me? Cayde? The Hunter Vanguard? The Golden Gun? The big head honcho himself? "

" Isn't... I thought, Zavala was -- "

" Yeah, yeah, sure, " the Exo waves his hands again, quickly dismissing the clarification. " Big Blue, Command, whatever - but me? I'm the cool guy. I'm the one everyone wants to meet. I'm the voice of reason here! "

That was... saying a lot.

" Ikora mentioned there was three Vanguard... " Selene tries to speak again, this time, parting her sentences in case there was more to be said from the other. " You... You said your name is Cayde, right? So you're the third... the Hunter? "

" Awh, come on. When you say it like that, it's like I'm bottom barrel here. But yes, the names' Cayde, Cayde-6 if you wanna get technical, but not aimin any higher than that. Hunter Vanguard, at your service, " he gives a slight bow, rolling a wrist at his chest while other extends outward. " And you would be? "

Another chilling clump of empty drops in her stomach at the question, causing only for her knuckles to white as she tugs gently at the ends of her shirt. What point to exchange names, if she was just going to turn into another blur of faces that would come one after the other...

" ...M' Selene. "

" Selene? That's a pretty name. Pretty name for a ... well, I'm sure you got a pretty face when its' not all pensive like that, " the Vanguard comments, tilting his head as he spoke. " How long you been here Selene? Gotta be a few days if Zavala's rubbin' off on ya already. He convince ya into runnin through as a Titan yet? 'Cuz I'm always open to new recruits. Trainings' easy, bounties are subpar, first capes' free and mighty delicate if I do say so myself. Not to mention, we Hunters are the better blend of talent and style when compared to the rest. -- Just, don't tell Ikora I said that. "

" I'm.. n-no. I haven't.. I don't actually.. "

So much talking. It was impossible to catch every word, every question -- it was so loud.

Brows pinching upon forehead at the thought, at this point her cheeks began to swell at how clamped her teeth were on the subject. Throat dry from lack of air and breath, her chest felt shallow and her stomach a black pit. Her legs felt heavier than stone, her feet glued to the ground and shoulders so far raised that she'd hardly notice the muscle ache in time.

" ...You ok, kid? "

Had she taken too long to answer?

" Hey. Let's uh... let's wait on all that. Sound good? Lets' get somewhere less crowded. "

Less crowded...? Yeah. That sounded good.

A shaken nod given in response, and she's following the Hunter elsewhere without any further exchange. Focusing on the back of his cloak as they moved, the single red streak upon a tattered brown is what allows her to collect her thoughts as they walked. Forging better words to use for when they were at given destination, that perhaps this time, she'd be able to speak proper and answer quickly instead of acting like some sort of ran over rodent. Little thought to the rips and tears of ones' attire... the fabric itself, speaking louder than any speech the other two Vanguard could have made to convince her the state of denial.

The man before her had fought. And it showed.

Several paces more before he's turning on a heel and causing her to stutter-step her brakes, the Exo looking between she and a door in the distance. As if hesitant on whether to turn back, or continue. Selene remains ever blank in her expression, unsure of how to necessarily respond upon action.

" Here, uhhh... stay right there for a minute, would ya? " Cayde motions, rounding his hands in two finger guns as he addresses his newly found company. " Gotta, lemme... I'll be right back. "

With a hop in his step, the Hunter approaches the door with a swing, the sound of shuffling belongings and metal scraping bleeding into the background of already working mechanics. There's noises that didn't seem too out the ordinary, and then there is the brief shatter of broken glass that comes from the room, followed by inaudible self-talking and sounds of what could only be described as a broom. Selene tilting her head briefly in curiosity -- whether she should check to see if the Vanguard was okay, or if he needed help... --

" Okay! "

Apparently not.

Sliding his hands together as if job well done, the Exo walks out of the room but remains close to its' door. A motion movement for the other to follow, and the Awoken is once more following without inquiring further. The room that had been disoriented, something make-shift of a small cubical office, almost, with several boxes stacked to the ceiling and a fallen over filing cabinet that seemed way out of date. Little shimmers of glass residual still on the floor, nothing that would hamper past her boots but all the same. A snug fit with the desk that had been shoved into place, but it seemed just a little bit quieter than the outside.

" Don't uh... Don't mind the mess. S'uh... storage. Not really much of an office guy. "

He speaks, but it doesn't register to her until after she's in the room and sitting upon the desk to relieve the weight of her legs. Her chest still ultimately heavy, she prioritizes the need to calm down before looking up and over at the other, still remaining against the open door way with arms crossed at his chest. His own attention darting between she and the commotion outside throughout the Hanger.

" ...Th-Thank you, by the way. "

Her voice provokes the attention of the Hunter for a moment, unresponsive aside from a gentle stare back through glowing vision that was shared among all Exo units. As if kept in thought, before giving a nod, turning his head back to the Hanger but his voice still reflecting back into the room.

" Don't worry 'bout it, " his voice carries an accent, but she can't tell in what narrative. Only that its' mildly comforting... as if talking to just another human being. No Light or titles, here. " It's a mess, but, can use this room whenever you need it. Stays unlocked, don't really use it for m'self... too many places to be to sit around. But uh... whenever you wanna talk, " he offers, again rolling one wrist out of the tuck of his chest as he motioned, " Jus' lemme know. When you're ready, that is. No rush -- can leave ya be, if it helps. "

" N-No... that's okay, " she quickly denies the idea of being alone, shaking her head at the thought. Chest ever lighter by the minute, the sounds of repairs dull out and for the first time since leaving the courtyard, she can hear herself speak. " I think I'm okay to talk now... to uh... answer questions again. "

" You sure? "

" Yeah... I'm sure. "

A temporary silence, followed by exhaled huff, Cayde pries himself off the frame of the door while unfolding arms to his sides. Walking over to where several boxes stacked, he pulls out a fold-able chair, a dented, rusted mess but still to do the job. With a heavy flick of the wrist, it folds out and stomps against the metal flooring, flakes of decay and time cracking upon the weight as he sat, legs cocked over as he sat stomach-side against the back of the chair, arms folded upon its' height. His rebellious nature already ringing like a golden light in a pit of dark, receiving a risen brow from the Awoken whom refused to discuss concern with words.

" Lets start over. Th' names Cayde. I'm the Hunter Vanguard here, not really by choice - but, y'know, previous Vanguard decided to croak and we had this dare, and, one thing led to another -- so I'm here now. Zavala's prized treasure, whether he wants to be the bigger man and admit it or not. "

The later comment resulting in a stiffed chuckle from Selene -- she processes his words easier now to detail. Mulling between the man known as Cayde and his relationship with the rest of the Vanguard, between his own words and that of context clues generated from the rest. She begins to see why Hawthorne had left his title... open.

" Selene... I uh... woke up in a sink hole... and was found by a group of others who brought me here. "

" A sink hole? Nice, nice. Well, at least the initial fall didn't bang ya up too bad. You're lookin' good! "

" Th-Thanks... I think...? " her head tilts, though lips curve upward into a half-smile, biting back another chuckle. " I don't... really know how all this works still. Aside from what a few others have told me... and what my Ghost has told me. "

" So you do have a Ghost! Where is the lil' guy? Girl? Some of them have a preference -- like mine has this preference that I stop doing certain things. That I will certainly not stop doing. "

" It's... uh... he? I don't... really know... " Selene attempts to comprehend, the habit of ones' company still something she wasn't entirely certain on whether it was consistently around or if it held other matters on its' own. " It just... shows up sometimes. "

" -- Really, all you need to do is ask, " comes the familiar tone, a flash of light illuminating the office as if on queue. The glimmering white of its' shell rattling as optic scans their surroundings. " Ah, you found someone else? "

" Aw, aren't you cute, " Cayde greets, " Got yourself a sassy one there. That'll make things fun. "

" I'm... what? " the Ghost tilted, the back of its' shell whirling in brief puzzlement.

" Nah, nothin. Don’t worry about it, " the Exo dismisses, flinging a hand. " I'm sure you guys'll get along great. Perfect match for one another. Just gotta work out the speed bumps. "

" You have one too, right? " Selene perks, attention held upon the Ghost as it hovered around her space. The question bringing to light a secondary Ghost in the room - this one carrying red and gold accents upon pallid shell. Gears rotating as it floated next to the sitting Vanguard, quietly.

" Sure do! Names' Sundance. She's a bit picky about who she talks around though. No hard feelins. "

As quickly as she had appeared, the Ghost then dismissing herself back into the pocket space. Selene's own ghost deciding to stick around for the time being, the Awokens' attention placed back upon the Hunter across from her.

" How long have you two... been, y'know... "

The question rests upon her tongue, but is quickly deciphered by the Exo as his head tilts side to side at the thought. Searching for the proper way to say a long time, without it being vague enough... being apart of first generation Risen was... man, when was his birthday again?

" Sundance and I? We go way back. Before everything uh... well. I guess it'd be during, given that I did make it out alive... ugh. Such miserable place. But uh -- yeah! We go waaay back. Long time to tell. Ran outta birthdays once you go pass a hundred. "

" You're over a hundred years old? " Selene squints, almost as if not believing him at first.

" You think I'm old? Hah! Man... You should meet some of Saladin's friends. They're ancient. Dinosaurs, really. "

" I... I mean... I'd ask how, but... "

" Right? Amazing what kinda life goals you can finish when you don't have deadline anymore. Only con' about it is ya gotta make new goals. Me? Gave up already. Just take one day at a time. "

" That's... crazy, " she shakes her head, processing but not open to the idea at first. A falsehood of immortality, resting upon her fingertips at the generosity of the machine that sat next to her. Foreboding, really.

" It's not all that bad. Just takes some time getting use to! Trust me, still throws me in a loop some days. Dependin' how hard I hit my head, ya know? "

" Makes sense, I guess. "

" Most of the time, " Cayde corrects, " Sometimes it makes no sense at all, and that's where I leave it to Ashir Mir. Complete nutcase, don't recommend getting caught up in his little Vex-obsession. You'll never hear the end of it. "

" I'll keep that in mind, " Selene chuckles, nodding. Though she's unfamiliar with the name just yet -- it seems there's a handful of people to better keep an eye on. " The uhm... Vanguard. How does it.. work? "

" Eh? "

" You asked me if I spoke with Zavala about being a Titan... and, Hawthorne's mentioned Warlocks, and Hunters... and how to harness Light into power, and it's just one big... mess of information to me. I don't think I understand how it works, " she admits.

" Oooh. That stuff. It's like uh... like ones' true calling. Titan's calling is... beating things up in a vicious matter, " he clamps a fist against open hand, emphasizing their might, " Warlocks are mooore... concerned? Careful people -- too careful, just, never get anything done, " another roll of wrist to continue moving in the conversation -- " But Hunters? We get things done and look good doing it. And if I know a Hunter when I see one -- you? " he then points, leaning forward against the back of the chair with a childish glint in the optics, " Ten outta ten, you'd wear a cape like a champ. "

" Is this another one of those recruitment ads? " the Ghost chimes in.

" Recruitment? What, like this is some sorta army or somethin'? " Cayde replies back, tone lingering on the offensive. " I know a Hunter when I see one. And your pick of the litter? She'd do great. Maybe even best me one day! Then she'd be the Vanguard and I get my adventures back without Zavala breathing down my back! "

" I don't... I think we're getting too far ahead -- " Selene tries to intercept, a notation of moving back a smudge against the desk as head bobs side to side as if looking for an exit strategy. The mere act provoking a chuckle out of the Exo as he waved a hand in dismiss.

" I'm joking, joking! But man -- you find anyone who wants this job, you let me know. "

" Is being part of the Vanguard really that much? " the Ghost continues, amplifying the curiosity in the room. The Exo once more mulling words over in his skull, taking the energy to keep things simple and civil.

" Nah. Great job, great people - would be even greater if I had my Light back. But I miss being out on the field - going on my own. Finding new places to hide caches... writing love letters to the next big bad who wants to try and chase this sweet piece of metal down, knowing full well it'll be a bullet between the eyes if they even got remotely close. Man -- it's like missing your teenage years all over again. "

" Ikora mentioned a lot of .. Guardians, they don't have their Light right now, ever since the war against the... what were they called... "

" Ghaul, " Cayde fills in immediately, tone suddenly shifting in a more serious note. " He and his Cabal army wrecked the place. And with it, our connection to the Traveler. He's not only taken our Light, but he's taken too many of our men. Our women. Kids. We've lost too much to that ugly rhino in the sky and I'll be damned we lose anymore before I get my hands on him. One death I wouldn't mind being my last. "

" Last? "

" Ikora didn't fill you end on that bit? Without our Light, those little guys are just Christmas decorations, " he then points over towards the Ghost, giving a minor shrug. " Plus, those who got caught out, the Cabal made sure of getting rid of the collateral.. "

" They killed their Ghost, too, " the Ghost speaks, shook. Selene having turned her head to and fro between it and Cayde, the grimace upon Exo features sharing enough that it was the correct lead way to ones' ' collateral control '. A shiver running down her spine, throat swallowing a lump of air that wished to stay around longer than it was welcomed.

" If you guys don't have that... your Light, it puts both of you at risk, right? So whose fighting out there right now? "

" What we got left, " Cayde answers bluntly, tone more somber than the previous. " Guardians, Humans -- if we don't fight, no one else surely will. All we got are enemies, and with or without our Light? We ain't gonna let them take what's ours. Not if we still have a chance. "

" So even without it... " Selene speaks quietly, attention dropping temporarily.

" We are more than just our Light. Regardless of what anyone else thinks, " the Hunter states, standing up from his chair and putting it aside. " Some people might not think so... but it doesn't matter what they think. It's what we know. What I know. "

Within a moment, Selene feels herself sink again -- unable to tell whether or not this was about to turn into another reason for her to decide something impossible. That this Hunter would turn just as the other two had, telling her to consider the choice. As if options were on the table with see-through glass that shone the inevitable. A brace for further turmoil... crossed arms make for her wrist as nails dig at her skin.

" For instance, " Cayde continues, pointing a daunting finger in her direction, " I know that you'll do great, Selene. And I mean that. I'm not typically a partner type of guy... but we need all the help we can get. And you? I wouldn't mind having another Hunter at my side I can trust.

I'm not looking to replace the men I've lost. And I've lost a lot of great Guardians. Ones I can tell you story after story after story. But I'm looking for the next future of Guardians that'll keep those stories alive. Those who can help me keep their memory alive. You get me? "

It strikes differently, an unexpected wave of relation bubbling in her stomach like an erupting volcano. Her chest, unlike the cold that caressed her body in doubt, now in a warmth of understanding -- of clarification of what has to be done. He makes it sound less of a soldier to the field, and more of a obligated duty to those who had fallen. And while it doesn't make the idea of war more welcoming, it helps her understand that the Light in her chest is something... more, than just burden. It's responsibility, whether she wanted it or not. And that there were people out there like him -- those who genuinely wanted to use it for good, and not just for the front line. To tell stories -- to survive. To build.

It's not something she immediately cooperates with, but she can't help but feel... persuaded.

" You really think I can help make a difference...? "

" I know you'll make a difference. Maybe not to me, or the Vanguard. But you'll make a difference where it's needed. Feel it in m' gut, " he taps, the sound of steel exterior thudding beneath leather armor. " So how 'bout it? Am I getting you a short cut cape or long one, what'll it be? "

Was it required, the cape?

A brief glance towards his own, she takes a moment to picture both the physique and weight of one on her shoulders. The tension easing the moment she realizes just how pensive she's been this whole time -- shoulders only now drifting downward in relax moment. Did the size matter? Color? Emblem? What was it to a Hunter, their cape...?

" I guess... surprise me? "

Indecisive demeanor, the Exo does a single clap and following finger-gun pointed motion before walking over to one of the cardboard boxes -- digging through the contents before throwing a randomized ball of fabric her way. Having caught the Awoken off guard as she emits a surprised squeak -- clasping the ball in her hands while trying not to fall backwards against the desk. It doesn't click as to what's between her hands until after the Exo speaks again, startled daze still tracking between gift and delivery.

" Surprise! There, outta the way -- now, next step, somethin to protect yourself. I got uhh, spare knifes, a few cannons... Amanda should have that rifle I gave her, gotta go ask about that one -- Do me a favor wouldja? Check that box behind you, should have some used belts with holsters. Grab a few. "

" I -- what? -- okay? " it's not enough to ask questions back, placing the balled-up cape next to her before turning around and sliding over to said box. It seemed it was not to be taken lightly when he had mentioned this was now a storage room -- dusted gear stacked upon stacked as she tugged one belt to acquire two more. How... many belts did she need again?

" You got a preference in firepower, Selene? " he throws the question over as he walks over toward the knocked over cabinet, attempting to pry its' contents with a few tugs before brute forcing the top drawer open. A few hand cannons slipping out, one seemingly still loaded as the impact flicks the trigger, firing off a single bullet across the ground -- its sound startling both the Awoken upon table and Exo on floor, whom instinctively jumped in place to avoid any unnecessary damages to his kicks. " -- Ah, musta took the safety off that one, yikes. "

" I uh... never... shot a gun, " her voices still shaking with the panicked hic from fired bullet, the next sound to make her jump is the Exo aggressively placing down one of the retrieved weapons from drawer against the top of the desk.

" Got it! Hand cannon for beginners then we'll work ya up to whatever feels natural! -- Now, if that's all good to go - Ghost! You revive her yet since the sink hole? “

" No? " the shell tilts.

" Good! Look at you two, already doing great, " Cayde exclaimed, walking over toward the door with fingers locked together -- a motion of cracking ones knuckles, if he had them, pushing the force out from his chest then dropping his arms back to his sides, quickly to be reformed with one hand on the hip and another reaching for his own hand cannon, giving it a twirl from the holster before loading a bullet. " Best way to learn is to do, am I right? Come on, kiddo -- we're going shooting practice. "

" R-Right now??? "

" What, you wanna think on it and turn back into a bubblin' mess? Trust me. The faster you act the less you think and the less freaked out you are. We can have another heart to heart later if you really want to but while the fires' hot lets goooooo. "

It was... chaotic, to say the least. How quickly the demeanor had changed from crisis to, well, this. But in every right mind of the statement... she couldn't help but admit he was right. If she was going to go for this, there was no need to slow down if it was going to give her reason to lock down again. And who knew with how busy a schedule the Vanguard had... did they have schedules? Cayde seemed to have a schedule. That, when would be the most opportune time to learn both the groups of survival and that of a Guardian in whole.

He made it sound as if he was rarely ever at the Tower without reason.

Might as well take advantage where it was given... right?

" I'm.. -- okay -- I'm coming, " she stammers, fumbling over the now crowded desk with a handful of belts, cloak and gun -- the last being remotely hesitant before locking her hands around its' grip safely and following the Vanguard out.

With as much confidence that steered from the Hunter Vanguard as he walked, few words exchanged with several others as they made their way out of the Hanger, Selene couldn't help but feel... recognized. Something that lacked upon the meeting of other two Vanguard, that maybe he was right in where this is where she belonged. Regardless of what the others thought, subtle cues of recommending she stay away from the Hunter and that he was eccentric. It might've been the best example she needed if she wanted to get through this -- taming her Light and her purpose.

Today, she was making a decision.

Today -- she would become a Hunter.

#✦ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴ / drabble #destiny 2 #destiny 2 short story #d2 rp #destiny 2 rp

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meditativeyoga · 5 years ago

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Discover the Peaceful Practice of Yoga Nidra

One cool evening in a high-ceilinged eating hall in Novato, The golden state, an unlikely yoga exercise course is obtaining under means. Fourteen guys wearing blue denims, job boots, or running footwears roll out yoga exercise floor coverings and also obtain settled on resting bags, blankets, as well as pillows-- in prep work for Yoga Nidra.

The instructor, Kelly Boys, grins as she surveys her students, residents at Henry Ohlhoff North, a material abuse recovery. She asks if anyone intends to review their experiences in the previous week's session. A trim 52-year-old named Charles volunteers that he deals with feelings of loneliness.

Around the area, faces loosen up, jaws soften, as well as soon snores begin to roll as the guys go down further right into relaxation.

' How does your body really feel when it strikes you?' Boys asks. 'Stressful,' Charles says. 'And where do you really feel the tension?' she asks. 'In my shoulders,' he says.

' Just ask it, 'Exactly what do you need? What do you want?" Boys states. 'We're simply bringing inquisitiveness to it. When you truly satisfy it, it does slope.' Charles responds, completely satisfied for now.

As the men settle right into kicked back placements, Boys starts to speak them via a detailed trip of their own bodies on this day as well as currently-- the initial step in the method of yoga nidra. Slowly the room quiets, till the only sounds are the hum of the ventilation system as well as Young boys' voice: 'Can you feel the inside of your mouth? Currently bring your attention to your left ear. Really feel the in of your left ear. Feel your right ear. Can you feel both ears simultaneously?' Around the room, deals with unwind, jaws soften, as well as soon snores begin to rumble as the men drop deeper into relaxation.

The Benefits of Yoga Nidra

Yoga nidra is an ancient however obscure yogic method that's ending up being increasingly popular as both a kind of meditation and a mind-body therapy. It is a systematic type of led leisure that typically is done for 35 to 40 mins at a time.

Practitioners say that it typically brings immediate physical advantages, such as lowered anxiety and also much better rest, and also that it has the possible to heal emotional wounds. As a meditation method, it could engender a profound feeling of delight as well as well-being.

' In yoga nidra, we recover our body, detects, and mind to their all-natural function and also awaken a 7th sense that permits us to really feel no splitting up, that only sees wholeness, harmony, and wellness,' states Richard Miller, a San Francisco Bay Area yoga teacher and professional psycho therapist who is at the center of the activity to educate yoga exercise nidra and to bring it to a broader audience.

While several popular instructors offer classes, CDs, and also publications on yoga nidra, Miller is accountable for bringing the practice to an impressive variety of ultramodern setups. He's aided present it on military bases and in professionals' clinics, homeless shelters, Montessori institutions, Head Beginning programs, medical facilities, hospices, chemical reliance facilities, as well as prisons. Exactly what's more, thanks to Miller, it's beginning to get significant scientific focus. Researchers are taking a look at the practice's potential to aid soldiers experiencing trauma, addicts struggling to obtain tidy, individuals with depression, cancer, as well as MS, health treatment employees, and also married pairs managing anxiety and insomnia.

More than 40 years ago, in 1970, Miller attended his very first yoga exercise class at the Essential Yoga exercise Institute in San Francisco. 'At the end of that course, they taught a customized yoga nidra-- deep Savasana,' he says. 'I had one of the most profound experience, there was this sense of my inter-relatedness with the whole world. As well as a vow occurred in me to actually investigate this practice.'

Over years of researching and teaching yoga nidra, Miller has actually developed his own strategy, discovering ways to make the technique accessible to a wide series of individuals, also those with little or no education in yoga exercise. In 2005, he released a publication, Yoga Nidra: An Introspective Technique for Deep Relaxation as well as Recovery, as well as he's released several audio guides. He currently leads the not-for-profit Integrative Reconstruction Institute, an organization committed to the research study, teaching, and also technique of yoga nidra and yoga philosophy.

' Lots of people are attempting to change themselves,' Miller claims. 'Yoga nidra inquires to welcome themselves. That moment of real inviting is where the extensive change takes place.'

You Do not Have to Do Yoga exercise or Practice meditation to Do Yoga exercise Nidra

It's a stealthily simple technique. Since yoga nidra is usually showed relaxing-- at first assisted by an educator-- it's interesting individuals that might feel frightened by yoga postures or conventional seated meditation. A short version of yoga nidra could be introduced and also practiced in much less than 10 minutes. Yet its various aspects, taken with each other as well as practiced frequently, make up an advanced set of mind-body tools that can aid professionals navigate some of life's harshest minutes. Yoga exercise nidra could likewise be practiced as an accessible kind of meditation for those seeking everyday well-being.

In a regular yoga exercise nidra session, an instructor guides experts with a number of stages. You start by developing an objective for your life as well as for the practice. You find out to concentrate your understanding on your breath, physical feelings, feelings, and also thoughts. Throughout, you are motivated to touch right into an underlying sense of tranquility that is constantly present and to cultivate 'witness awareness,' observing and welcoming whatever exists without getting captured up in it.

' Yoga exercise nidra allows us to get to one of the most extensive level of relaxation feasible,' claims Pole Stryker, the creator of Para-Yoga, who has actually been educating yoga exercise nidra because the mid-1990s and who composes about it in his publication, The Four Desires. 'It opens an entrance to a location where we could see ourselves and our lives in the most favorable light.'

Unlike various other kinds of reflection, in which you concentrate on a concept or on your breath, yoga nidra asks you simply to allow go. 'The technique requires us to involve the muscle mass of abandonment,' Stryker says.

Yoga Nidra for Remedy for PTSD

The course to bringing yoga nidra to the focus of a wider audience led, oddly enough, via the Walter Reed Military Medical Center, a military treatment center based, at the time, in Washington, DC. In 2004, Christine Goertz, a scholastic scientist at the Samueli Institute, a not-for-profit research study institute, teamed up with Robin Carnes, a yoga exercise teacher that had actually instructed yoga nidra as component of a cardiac care program at Walter Reed. Carnes had actually found out yoga exercise nidra from Stryker as well as from Miller's publication. She as well as Goertz made use of Miller's technique as the basis for a pilot research study examining whether the technique could help soldiers struggling with posttraumatic stress condition (PTSD). The results of that first small research, conducted with active-duty solution members, recommended that yoga exercise nidra might be valuable for handling PTSD in experts. (Along the road, somebody at Walter Reed suggested renaming the practice to something extra available, as well as Miller created 'iRest,' brief for 'Integrative Remediation.') As a follow-up, a randomized, regulated test entailing 150 participants was conducted over 18 months at the Veterans Affairs (VA) facility in Miami from 2009 to 2010. And also one more study is starting this winter season at the Captain James A. Lovell Federal Healthcare Facility in Chicago.

On the basis of the pilot research study results, the military is currently offering Miller's iRest yoga nidra practice to wounded warriors at Walter Reed, Brooke Military Medical Center in San Antonio, Texas, Camp Lejeune, a big Marine Corps base in North Carolina, and VA centers in Miami, Chicago, and Washington, DC. In these recurring classes, soldiers have actually reported that a few of their most unpleasant PTSD signs and symptoms, consisting of hyperalertness, anxiety, and rest disruptions, have diminished.

Tools like yoga exercise nidra could be crucial sources for soldiers changing to life after battle, says Mona Bingham, a retired colonel who's investigating the practice at Brooke Military Medical Center. 'A great deal of soldiers are returning [from fight] with physical, mental, and ethical wounds,' she says. 'It's not something we could simply provide a medicine for.' She's examining iRest's result on army couples handling the tension that frequently arises after an implementation ends.

Yoga nidra literally means 'yogic rest,' however that is a little bit of a misnomer. It's not a special sort of rest, however a state in between sleeping and also waking.

Cheryl LeClair shows the iRest practice to marines with PTSD and terrible brain injuries at Camp Lejeune. 'Most of the men do not sleep,' she states. 'Some have actually informed me they take 2 Ambien a night, and also they still can not sleep. Many of them drop rest in the extremely first iRest session. To see them kick back as well as release is simply incredible.'

Like the marines in LeClair's classes, new specialists typically falling asleep during their initial couple of yoga nidra sessions. That's not unexpected, claims Stryker, because nowadays several individuals are rest deprived. Yoga nidra literally means 'yogic rest,' however that is a little bit of a misnomer. It's not a special sort of sleep, however a state in between sleeping and also waking. With more experience, Stryker claims, professionals can experience deep rest while preserving just what he calls 'just a trace of recognition.'

For LeClair, whose partner returned from Iraq in 2003 with a mind injury, PTSD, as well as a smashed vertebra in his neck, yoga exercise nidra has actually ended up being a vital part of obtaining with exactly what are often extremely trying days. (She handles the family members finances as well as much of the duty for raising a nine-year-old grandson.) She first experienced the practice at a weekend workshop. 'After I awakened, I said, 'Whatever that is, I want a lot more,'' she says. Now, when she gets overloaded, she remembers the lessons of yoga exercise nidra: 'If you can tip back and also witness the ideas without response, it gives you some space. You learn how to have equanimity.'

Yoga Nidra Aids Emotional Healing

The roots of yoga nidra are believed to go back countless years. When Miller adapted the trainings to earn them more obtainable to Westerners, he intended to address emotional health. 'The Eastern yoga exercise principles took it for given that you went to a particular state of wellness and also wellness,' he claims. 'Just what I saw was that this was not true of a lot of students. So I included the component of the Inner Source.'

Early on in Miller's yoga exercise nidra instruction, as you begin to kick back, you are asked to invoke up your very own personal Inner Source, a vision of and also really feeling concerning a place where you really feel secure and protected. If intense feelings surface throughout yoga exercise nidra-- or, for that issue, at any moment-- you can return to your Inner Source to take a break.

Charles, one of the males at Henry Ohlhoff North, relies on the technique frequently. A previous exec cook, he retired after a back injury left him in consistent discomfort. He ended up being addicted to alcohol and also medicines as well as, after three apprehensions on drug charges, chose rehab rather than jail.

Yoga nidra has assisted him locate his back to a part of himself unblemished by dependency as well as persistent pain. His Inner Source is the bakeshop his parents ran. 'I go back to my youth,' he says, 'doing chores in my parents' bakeshop. I think of my papa and also how good it really felt to have his arms around me.'

Earlier this year, when Charles was approved his initial overnight pass 2 months into his six-month rehabilitation remain, a close friend amazed him with a birthday celebration that consisted of alcohol. Charles began to panic.

' I headed out to my cars and truck, put my head back on the headrest, and also went into [the practice],' he claims. 'My breathing boiled down, and I can concentrate better.' After concerning half a hr, he opted to leave the celebration and also go back to the rehab center.

Early research sustains the suggestion that yoga nidra can assist people like Charles who remain in recovery from dependency. In a study of 93 people at a chemical reliance therapy center, Leslie Temme, a teacher in the social work division of Western Carolina University, found that participants who practiced yoga nidra had less adverse moods as well as a reduced risk of falling back into drug abuse. With its focus on self-awareness, yoga nidra appears in order to help recovering addicts really feel much more comfy in their own skin, cope better with hard emotions, as well as make far better choices, Temme states. What's more, she adds, 'The customers liked it. They were aligning at the door to obtain to it.'

Discover Your Connection to All Living Things

If you've ever before attempted to sit in meditation for HALF AN HOUR, you understand that you don't need to be recouping from trauma to be unpleasant in your very own mind. As a reflection method, yoga exercise nidra offers a mild approach, starting with body awareness, after that working compassionately with thoughts and emotions as they occur, and slowly leading the meditator to access a better area of recognition. Actually, in several of the earliest written referrals to the term yoga exercise nidra, it is identified with samadhi, or union, the supreme goal of the eightfold path.

This aspect of yoga exercise nidra is perhaps one of the most tough to take into words, however, for Miller, it's the core of the method. Discovering to observe and invite all the feelings, feelings, as well as thoughts that develop in deep remainder could lead an individual to become less identified with the specific self-- just what Miller calls the 'I-thought.' Through this experience, he says, it's feasible to lose the feeling that one is different from others and also to tap into an unsinkable feeling of interconnectedness to all of life.

And when that happens, Miller claims, 'There's a deep swimming pool of wellness. It's just what I discovered because first yoga exercise nidra session in 1970. That's exactly what I attempt to share.'

#asana #healing #meditation #Pranayama #Yoga #Yoga Nidra #yoga teacher

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ladylike-foxes · 6 years ago

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All Soul’s, Pt. 1

My beloved @joufancyhuh (❤️😍❤️😍❤️) sent me an ask that read, “How Halesta celebrates Halloween or its equivalent in fic form por favor.”, and when I went to post it, I somehow managed to mess it up and now I can’t find the original ask. So instead, I’m posting the first of what is essentially a two-parter (though I haven’t quite decided how pt. 2 is gonna go yet) here, for @dadrunkwriting ❤️

Autumn air holds something distinct, something that stirs the fluttering in one’s stomach with some unnamed anticipation. Those devout Andrastian around her seemed to take this as a sign for them to chastise themselves: prayer hour lengthened double both morning and night, the Canticle of Trials seeming to echo throughout Skyhold at all hours. Asking Cassandra about this, the Seeker nearly rolled her eyes, taking a moment to visibly reign in her tongue before answering.

“It is due to the approach of All Soul’s Day, Inquisitor,” Delicately folding her gloved hands over the leather-bound Swords and Shields in her lap.

“The event is to be spent in somber remembrance of our dead, and of Andraste’s sacrifice for our souls. In most cities, there are plays depicting her last moments, with public fires at night.”

Halesta pouted thoughtfully, sitting beside the Seeker in the sparse grass with legs crossed beneath her. Cassandra glanced around for any Mothers or Sisters before making a face.

“To be honest, it is all a bit too morbidly reminiscent of home for my taste,” Voice lowered conspiratorially, “After midnight in my native Nevarra, the people dress as spirits and walk the streets in silent parades.”

“That sounds like an incredibly dull disservice to the dead,” Halesta laughed.

She caught Solas’s eye as he walked down the main stairs with Cole, but only held his gaze momentarily. Cole’s head swiveled to peek at her from beneath his hat. She turned her attention back to Cassandra, the cool breeze disheveling her short hair while she picked apprehensively at the fraying corner of her book.

“Do the Dalish not observe commemoration of their dead?” Bashful and embarrassed, as if asking about the Dalish was somehow disrespectful, “Aside from their burial rites, I mean.”

“Oh, we do. We have actually adopted your All Soul’s Day—only we’ve, ah, altered the festivities somewhat.” It was her turn to duck and blush.

“The Dalish make it fun.”

Cole appeared at the Seeker’s other side, posture mirroring the Inquisitor’s. She smiled to herself, noticing Cassandra no longer started when the boy appeared at random, nor did she behave as edgy or threatened. Solas meandered toward them in long, languid strides, shoulders broad and hands clasped behind him. The Seeker had turned to her, brow arched curiously; Halie offered up her hands in apology.

“Typical Hedonic elves, right?” Giggling nervously and tugging on a loose lock of hair, “We just treat it more as a, er, celebration?”

“They dance and feast, wearing masks and paint to mimic animals,” Contributing this unsolicited clarification, Solas came to stand before them, “Some even carry balls of twine all night, to mimic the tale of Fate.”

She shot him a threatening squint, but the Apostate smirked right back. Cassandra seemed to consider this information as though sampling one of Dorian’s mulled ciders; Halie could see the Seeker run her tongue along her lower teeth. She found herself worrying her fingertips along the hem of her breeches, waiting for confirmation that she had offended her friend’s devout sensibilities.

“Perhaps we should hold a Dalish celebration at Skyhold this year,” Cass glanced at her sidelong, a wicked curl playing at the corner of her lips.

“And offend the Clergy?” Halesta laughed tensely, shaking her head so her hair nearly fell from atop her head, “That seems unwise.”

“Pfft,” The Seeker waved her hand dismissively, “They have the rest of the month for their morose prayers.

“Cassanda Allegra Portia Calogera—” She shifted to look directly at her friend, “I forget the rest, but you are definitely messing with me.”

“Perhaps,” Cass laughed, handing her book to Cole as she stood, “Or perhaps, I’m going to speak to Josephine about it right now.”

“Creators, the Chantry will have me strung up by my ears!” “They will have to go through a small army first, my friend.”

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Two weeks later, Halesta was nearly in shock to find the Hall abuzz with preparation, a vision reaching back to her childhood. The smell of cloves and spiced citrus mixed with laughter in the air as Inquisition soldiers and scouts cheerfully busied themselves making masks of different creatures, or emptying gourds of every shape and size. Even some Chantry Sisters, led by Mother Giselle, were carefully placing a candle in each, before stringing the smallest of the hollowed vegetables onto long ropes, later to be hung in the courtyard out front.

“Almost like home, isn’t it?” Laleal sidled up, draping a long, brown arm over her shoulder, “I did my best to tell them the most important bits.”

“You did this?”

“Oh, let’s not pretend I have that much pull, Hal,” Winking as she bumped her hip, “No, this was your Seeker. Well, okay, it was mostly Josephine. But your Seeker and the Nightingale played no small part.”

She could feel her sister’s eyes on her as she wrung her hands, anxious bile turning in her stomach. Even if everyone seemed to be enjoying it, this would all certainly turn out to be a terrible idea. Laleal smoothed her hair back from her face, twisting it gently and placing it over her shoulder before knuckling firm little circles into the muscles at the base of her neck. She could hear Lala’s voice in her mind, melancholy harpsichord and soft summer rain, Relax, Da’halevune.

“Inquisitor!! Do you like it?” Josie grasped her arm excitedly as she, Vivienne, and Leliana all came over to join them.

“She’s terrified,” Lal replied for her, “She’s certain all of Thedas will be at our gates to draw and quarter her.”

“I’d love to see them try, darling,” Vivienne tucked a coil behind her ear, placing a dainty kiss to her forehead. “It’s already a massive boost to morale,” Leliana offered comfortingly.

“And just wait until everyone sees you in your costume!” Josie’s voice was actually shivering with excitement, “No one will be capable of being angry at you.” “Dorian and I took the liberty,” The Enchanter smiled smugly, “With help from your charming sister, of course.” “You know, I like her a lot more than I thought I would,” Laleal winked again, blowing a kiss to Viv.

Halesta chuckled a sigh, letting her shoulders fall back with defeat. Glancing at Mother Giselle again, she felt a small sense of calm. She might as well resign herself to her fate, if only for the sake of the Inquisition. Maybe, she lied to herself, they needed this more than she did.

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eternal-love-song · 6 years ago

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Taking Care Of You

Mina wasn't used to taking care of people and Momo wasn't used to being taken care of. [Momo/Mina] [Platonic BDSM, Aged Up Characters, Pre-relationship]

Written for @bnha-femslashweek Prompt Hurt/Comfort

Mina was used to doing whatever she wanted. She acted however she wanted, said how she felt, teased anyone within a shouting range, and never let anyone get her down. She couldn't cook to save her life, left her clothes all over the place, lost anything that she set down for longer than ten minutes, and wasn't afraid to shove all her junk into a closet and call it cleaning. Mina wasn't good at taking care of herself, in a certain sense. She wasn't convinced that she needed to, at least not in any way that significantly differed to her normal habits.

That was not, strictly speaking, the truth. Cooking could be useful when you didn't burn down everything you touched, cleaning really did improve the room you had to move around and skyrocketed the chances of actually finding the things you were looking for. There were merits to conforming to societies standards of living. Just like there were merits to being lazy and comfortable in your own home.

Momo was entirely the opposite of her. She was neat and tidy, absolutely organized, and cooked like a god of competence had blessed her with a basic set of skills that Mina woefully lacked. (Such as effective measuring and following directions as they were written.)

Anytime Momo walked through the door she was working. The girl just couldn't seem to help it. Over the course of a visit she would end up tidying Mina's place, seemingly by accident! She pick up things and moved them out of the way or to a more appropriate location if she happened to pass by. She took dishes to the kitchen, put Mina's house keys in the same place, and subtly pushed clothes loser to her bedroom.

Sometimes Momo would make tea. That could subtly ease into her making dinner, which could sometimes transitioned to cleaning up the kitchen as a whole. Mina had learned to go shopping a lot more often if Momo was coming over to visit, since it was easier to get a meal if there were actually things that could be cooked in her kitchen. Mina didn't sit back and let Momo do all the cleaning either. She helped with the dishes and whatever else if she saw Momo starting on them.

Mina was no longer certain that she would ever clean up if it wasn't for Momo's visits prompting her to do so.

Mina was not used to taking care of herself and even when she did, she couldn't take care of herself as well as Momo took care of her. In her attempts to return the favor, Mina learned that Momo was really not used to being taken care of.

Mina wasn't good at domestic stuff. It was boring and she had exactly no interest in improving in those areas, if she were being honest. What she did like, and was pretty good at, was hero work, shopping, chatting, going out; doing fun stuff essentially. She dragged Momo out to have fun as often or more than Momo came over to save Mina from herself, dancing or drinking or shopping or hanging with their friends, ideally as many of those things at once as could be arranged.

Momo was terrible at accepting gifts without saying that "she shouldn't have" half a dozen times beforehand, and you had to ask her questions like "how was your day?" or "how are you?" just as often if you wanted to get an answer that didn't mean "don't worry about me" in triple the necessary words. Momo was stressed out a lot and she wasn't very good at relaxing, which was why Mina did her best to try and make her relax.

"You're running yourself into the ground, Momo," Mina told her one day. It was one of those days where she'd done absolutely everything. She did hero work in the morning, did a favor for one of her colleagues, and then had the nerve to cook and clean at Mina's place in the evening. It was a little impossible to make her stop once she got going, even when she looked like she would actually fall over.

"I don't know how to stop," Momo admitted. "When there's work to be done, I just end up doing it."

"It's not your work," Mina told her.

"Someone has to do it."

"It doesn't have to be you." Mina sighed, hands resting on her hips as she looked the other woman over. Momo had a light shadows under her eyes, she looked exhausted and pale, she'd definitely been working herself way too much. "You have to relax."

"I don't... know how to relax," Momo said. Her hands were in her lap, moving restlessly, and her eyes were on the floor.

"What if," Mina paused as the thought began forming in her mind, only continuing aloud when Momo's expectant gaze fell on her, "What if I helped you?"

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Helped how?"

"I could blindfold you," Mina said. "Then you wouldn't have to see all the things that you want to do. You could just sit and relax. We could talk."

"Do you really think something like that could work?" Momo asked her.

"It could." Such a thing would never work on Mina, who was hyper as a default and hated sitting still for too long. Momo was a different case though. "You won't know unless you try."

Momo seemed to think it over for a moment. "I guess we can try."

Momo used her quirk to create a thick blindfold and handed it off to Mina. Mina placed it over Momo's eyes and tied it around the back of her head. She stepped back and checked her over. "How do you feel?"

"I'm not sure," Momo answered slowly. "I can't see what I should be doing, but I feel... restless?"

Mina could tell. Momo's hand were still fidgeting in her lap, clenching and unclenching, fingers twining with one another. It was obvious she was having a hard time sitting still.

"Should we stop you from moving?"

Momo paused, but Mina couldn't tell if it was from thought or trepidation. Mina found that it made her pay more attention to Momo's body language. She took note of the woman's stiffness, her rigid posture, and wondered if this was how Momo always sat. She suddenly felt very unobservant.

"How so?" She questioned.

"I could tie your hands?" Mina offered. It was partially a joke, but only partially. Part of Mina thought that it really would help.

"Alright," Momo agreed. She created a similar tie to her blindfold, thick but soft, easy to handle and tie. Mina wondered what type of material it was, but she didn't ask. The last thing Momo needed was a prompt to start thinking if she'd finally found reason to stop. It was silent for a while. Momo bit her lip. "Um..."

"Yes?"

"You said we would... talk?"

"Oh! Right!" Mina exclaimed. This wouldn't be a very good plan if she didn't say something to distract her. "Let me tell you about what happened at the agency today."

They ended up talking for an hour. Mina watched Momo as she slowly relaxed. Her posture slacked slightly, she added more of her own thoughts and opinions to the conversation, and Mina was surprised to see how well her plan was working out. Before she left

Momo asked her, "Could we... do this again? The... blindfolding?"

"Sure. If it helps," Mina replied.

Momo smiled. "It really does."

That was how they ended up where they were now. Momo standing over a table creating rope and soft ties while Mina created a small nest of pillows on the floor. Mina wasn't used to taking care of people and Momo wasn't used to being taken care, but they had slowly slipped into these roles and found themselves surprising comfortable in them. They didn't do this all the time and they didn't have a scheduel, just whenever Momo needed it (or Mina thought that Momo needed it and she agreed) and Mina had the time to spare, they would end up falling into their roles.

"Are you ready?" Mina asked.

"Yeah," Momo answered. She moved to the center of the pillow nest and made herself comfortable. Mina brought the necessary supplies over to her.

The blindfold was first. They had found, through a loose process of trial and error, that routine could help in calming Momo's mind. Block out sight first so that she couldn't see everything that needed to be done or things that could make her think of something that she could be doing. Mina tied it comfortable, but tight.

"Good?" Mina asked.

"Good," Momo answered.

The rope came next. It had been an embarrassing conversation on Momo's part and an intriguing one for Mina, when the idea of more restriction had come up. Something to make Momo feel like she couldn't move so that she stopped feeling like she had to. It took the idea off the table if she was too physically restricted to do so. It took control away from her, which was something that helped her actually relax. At least, that was how she had explained it to Mina. It seemed reasonable enough. As reasonable as Mina feeling warm and happy at the idea of tying someone up and taking responsibility for another person, even if only for a few hours.

Mina had spent hours looking up different ways to tie someone up, sometimes with Momo and sometimes alone. It was a little embarrassing, but not quite as embarrassing as it was to try these out and find one that was the right type of comfortable for Momo. After all the trial and error it took to get to this point, Mina was pretty good at arranging the ropes around Momo's body, crisscrossing them around Momo's body until she was completely bound.

Mina slipped a finger under the rope at various places, checking that there was enough room for movement and breathing. "Comfortable?" Mina asked softly. Speaking softly could help to ease the tension out of Momo, making her feel more ready to relax.

"Yes," Momo sighed softly in return.

"Good." Mina gently laid Momo down on the pillow nest, watching as Momo wiggled a bit to get comfortable. The silence would make her restless after a while, so Mina put on soft background music.

It was weird. She was doing this for Momo, but it made her relax a bit too. It made her focus. A smile came to her lips as she watched Momo sinking into the relation of her position. Mina knew that that could never be her. She could never find something like that to be soothing, but there was something very enchanting about the other side of. In these moments, Mina thought she understood why Momo did so much for other people all the time, if it made her feel like this. Taking care of Momo was something that she found herself liking and she wondered if that was why Momo always took care of her.

#MinaMomo #Mina Ashido #Momo Yaoyorozu #My Hero Academia #BNHA #ELS Writing #Fanfiction #Yuri

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cloudbattrolls · 6 years ago

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Our Bones Are Oracles

Zelist Varjal || Present Night || Derevnya

You look up from the papers on your desk, bleary-eyed, feeling like the sand in the corners of your oculars is never really wiped away. It’s there every time you brush through them, a reminder of not only your fatigue, but the group’s fatigue. Pencils and pens lie scattered across its surface haphazardly, a strange sight to you, but you only have yourself to blame for the lapse.

Samane has to be dead. Weeks have gone by and while dim, he’s not the flaky type; you could set a clock by that boy’s dedication to routine.

You wish you could feel more upset about it, but mostly you wish he was here to help you deal with this before your thinkpan explodes.

“Darling, honeyblood, sweetbiscuit. You have got to give me something to go on before my followers upend themselves into a fervor.”

The cult follows a violet who deserves it far more than some cheeky olive, but they spend most of their time with their nose in the lore books, obsessed with what they think are secret messages hidden in the pages. Marisa cultivates that interest, gets trolls to bring them as many files as they need, and keeps them neatly tucked away in their library away from the rest of the cult.

Which is why she’s standing in front of you, posture prim as a blueblood’s. It looks a bit ridiculous on a girl who meddles a bit too intimately with corpses and ties down screaming trolls for eldritch rituals.

“They’re out of Derevnya. We don’t know where; we don’t have the resources to track them anymore.”

As you know damn well, you bite back. Marisa’s here to posture; it’s what she does best, though you wonder why she didn’t bring Glaceo as support. Maybe the cerulean’s actually off doing her real job for once.

A tad hypocritical of you, perhaps, but unlike her you have the best of reasons for being here.

“I’m sure we’ll find the horrorspawn, dearest, but no - it’s the harvesting I’m here about. Your little proclamation has ground our progress to a shuddering halt, and we need all the weapons we can get if she’s waking up again. Which reminds me; how is that problem coming along?”

She flutters her lashes at you, and if you had more energy you might feel the urge to punch her in her smug face. You’re going to have to settle with refuting her.

“We’ve put her back to sleep for now.” You reply. “There were traces of other horrorterror activity, but whatever it was, we can’t tell if it did anything to the Siren.”

“Mmm, it’d be so much more expedient if we had the gun, didn’t we? You’re so generous, and it’s terribly admirable, but we really could use it for this little issue...”

“Perfected that metal yet?” You reply, a touch more acerbic than you mean to be, but can anyone blame you? You’re not in the mood for this.

Now is an even worse time than she usually chooses.

She only smiles more in her infuriating way and runs a finger across the top of your desk, picking up more dust than you’d like.

You eye the oliveblood, the both of you well aware it wasn’t generosity that prompted you to give the gun to Sochet sweeps back. Even then the pair of you had argued over how to deal with the Siren trying to use the Gunsmith’s descendant to free herself; Marisa had wanted to cull the girl.

Instead Sochet left carrying her ancestor’s weapon, with no knowledge of its legacy or her own. A compromise that left the pair of you staring each other down, a fistfight narrowly prevented by the leader’s stern words.

“No, lemondrop, but the harvest...”

“Have to say I’d be impressed if you did.” You bowl over her, picking your way through words delicately as a surgeonhiliator stitching a wound. “No one’s solved it in all the sweeps we’ve had the Gunsmith’s records...I don’t want to expect too much of you, I overstepped.”

Her eyes narrow slightly before she resumes smiling widely, enough of a victory to warm your tired pumper a bit.

“Are you going to keep us out even if she is asleep? I have to say, I never took you for an obstructionist, my dear Zelist.”

Oh, she’s definitely annoyed, and you sit up straighter, leaning forward.

“If we harvest from her now, we could wake her up again after she’s had disturbances from two horrorterrors, and she could try to manipulate us through the flesh we eat. She can also thrall anything of her own power against us; we should go put down the Lumier girl before she comes tearing people open, she’d be thrilled to have a stab at it anyway.”

You end the last sentence on a note pointed enough to cut through steel, and Marisa has the grace to look faintly embarrassed. She knows full well she can’t talk her way out of that one; you were present for every part of that little lupine disaster.

Unfortunately, she recovers as quickly as ever.

“What do you suggest we do then, darling? We barely have any other horrorterror weapons in our stores or cages, and the other cults aren’t about to share even if they had anything of the grade we needed. It’s the most I can do to keep them from attacking us, never mind giving us aid. If I can’t find the right formula for that bullet metal, we’ll have no way of killing her either, and it’s a teensy bit difficult when you only allocate me a handful of staff after we lost the rest of them in the glub.”

Her voice veers close to a snarl for just one word, but it’s enough. Marisa only ever lets even the smallest edge of aggression show if she’s exhausted all her other options; she’s desperate enough that it can’t matter anymore.

Good.

You can’t smile, not with what you’re about to do, what you’ve had to do, so you merely raise your eyebrows, fingers laced together as they prop up your chin.

“Luckily for all of us, I have a weapon for you.”

“Don’t tell me you got the gun back; I simply won’t believe it.”

“Better than that.”

“Do stop winding me up, goldbug.”

Marisa might whine, but she thrives on drama, and you’re going to give it to her in a way she can’t refuse.

Slowly, casually, you get up out of your seat and beckon for her to follow you down the stairs to where the cages are for the weapons the cult makes with the knowledge-flesh of the Siren.

For the first time, one of the cages holds a creature that none of you made; a horrorterror in the shape of a boy, one your trolls finally tracked to where it got stuck in a tree just outside of Derevnya. That suggests an odd weakness in it - maybe whatever contributes to the dead flesh - but it doesn’t matter.

Marisa’s eyes widen and her ears flick as her shock quickly turns to an eager and greedy grin as she claps her hands in delight.

“Honeyblood! You are my favorite troll tonight, you know that? I thought we’d never find a subduable host. Why, I could kiss you.”

Perish the fucking thought, though it’s shame Marisa’s Marisa, because it’s not like she’s not cute otherwise. Any pupahood pitch feelings for her died off sweeps ago - it would’ve been inappropriate anyway - so you wrinkle your nose and her attention swiftly turns back to the creature.

“What a marvelous specimen. You have to show me the full report, and I want to interview the team that found it. What does its transformed state look like?”

“Funny thing; it barely transformed at all when we found it, it just seemed relieved to get down, and bizarrely enough, terrified of us. Our working theory is that it acts like a troll for fun, or when it’s low on energy.”

“We understand them so little, even after all these sweeps...” She murmurs, more to herself than you.

You roll your eyes. The last thing you need is Marisa waxing lyrical about eldritch monsters when you have more than enough to do, and nobody to split the work with.

“Understand its weapon level and get me a report.”

You go back up the stairs without waiting for a response. You’ve got a call to make.

Sochet owes you a favor.

#cloud writes #what lies beneath us #it covers the lull in plot and is where Sayamh's been #Sayamh Firahj #Marisa Coultr #Zelist Varjal #and Dexter is mentioned but not present

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bunnybbomb · 7 years ago

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Trying to Tie Loose Ends (Catharsis Continuation): Chapter 2: The First Oracle Knight

SUMMARY: With visions of his future descendants in mind, Brivere enlists Prince Sidon to help him persuade the Zora royal council to agree to an unprecedented request. The outcome of this request results in the need for a new First Knight.

(A fanfic for the Sidlink fanfic Coma Baby by @banishfics or @banishedone, a continuation of the other one I made called Catharsis)

This is a fanfiction for a fanfiction called Coma Baby by BanishedOne on AO3, and a continuation of the other one I wrote called Catharsis. If you like a grumpy Link and really well developed, deep characters and an amazing take on the political structure of the Zora Domain, then definitely check out Coma Baby! It’s a long read and still going on, but the writing and descriptions are superb and it just means more great content. This fic in particular is focused on my favorite character in the series, the OC Brivere. You don’t need to read the whole series to get what’s going on in this fic though, since a lot is explained in here.

I post memes and fics for Coma Baby on my tumblr, you can chat with me any time about anything! I also post all chapters on my AO3 account BunnyBob!

Huge thank you to my amazing beta reader Alina! Her tumblr and ff.net is @ipromiseitsnotanobsession. She actually does editing shit for a living and she is the one that makes sure these things aren’t trash, so

Disclaimer: In no way does this have any true ties or canon to Coma Baby unless stated otherwise. It’s really just an indulgence AU to feed my obsession for Brivere drama.

Brivere stood behind his prince, head bowed down, with his hands balanced the on the hilt of a silverscale longsword, its sharp point digging into the marble floor of the council hall. He usually didn’t use such an outdated posture in these meetings, but Prince Sidon had advised him to appeal to the older Zora council in order to gain a little of their favor.

Although the two of them had put a lot of thought and research into their proposition, the knowledge that Brivere could either secure or lose his request with even the smallest action kept him on edge. Luckily, he was used to suppressing such worries, and so no one was able to catch onto the pit of anxiety that gnawed at his stomach. The only noticeable trait that gave his true feelings away was how tightly he was clutching onto his longsword.

After everyone had properly bowed to King Dorephan and settled in, Prince Sidon gave Brivere the nod to raise his head and stand up straight with his hands folded behind his back. He did so after gracefully twirling his sword around himself, snapping it into the weapon strap that was wrapped around one shoulder and looped across his broad chest. The longsword was completely still, hanging off of his back. This earned him a couple of pleased nods from the council members and apostles.

“First Knight Brivere,” King Dorephan boomed. “it has come to our attention that you and my son have a request of us.”

Brivere nodded politely. “Yes, your majesty. While I am very aware that the positions we currently have in our government are traditionally passed down from our great ancestors, I find it necessary to add a new role into our roster.”

The golden knight didn’t need his future ability to predict the mutters and head shakes that immediately came after his demand. Nonetheless, it still upset him that his suggestion was already being shot down before he was even able to properly explain himself.

King Dorephan hummed thoughtfully. “What makes you believe so, Brivere?”

“As you all know, I have recently awakened my ability to see the future, which is similar to my father’s.” The council nodded, recalling the event from a few days ago. “With this, it is clear that this power is passed through blood, generation to generation. I believe it is a blessing from Hylia herself, wanting to continue her protection of our people with this gift. As a result, I would like to create the position of Oracle Knight, name courtesy of Prince Sidon.” The prince grinned at this, remembering how the two of them had playfully fought over what to call their joint creation for days in the royal records hall.

“And just what would the purpose of this position be, First Knight?” Muzu asked.

“It is similar to the First Knight position, but it has the additional responsibility of using the ability to see the future to properly advise and protect the royal family. It will be passed down generation by generation, to whichever of my descendants receives this power.”

At this, one particularly displeased council member scoffed. “We cannot defy Zora traditions! We have kept and maintained our current position roster since the beginning of our race, only picking those who are qualified.”

Prince Sidon was now the one to speak up, eager to show off how prepared the two of them were. “Actually, that is not entirely correct. If you examine these positions,” he said, holding up a scroll from the royal records hall, pointing a claw at several sections, “they have only been added within the past few centuries, when they became necessary. I would be glad to give you this scroll to examine, but rest assured that Brivere and I have already confirmed its legitimacy.”

“Even so, we cannot let the position only be passed down by blood! The only one that follows that ritual is the role of the king!” Muzu hissed. “Do you intend to create this position just to usurp power from the royal family?!”

At this, Brivere shook his head. “That is far from my intention. I only ask that the position of Oracle Knight be passed down my bloodline because that is the only way the power to see the future will flow, and that quality is necessary for this new title. If it pleases the council, you may take away as much power or pay from this status as you like, but all I ask is that you keep its duty to protect the royal family.”

The council listened, seemingly more content with that compromise. King Dorephan let the words sink in before he broke the silence. “I believe that is all the questions we have, unless anyone else is unsatisfied.” The other members shook their heads. Brivere slowly became nervous, as the council members all suddenly wore the same emotionless mask that he had. It was impossible to tell what conclusion they had come to. “In that case, you may make a closing statement before you and my son must leave for us to deliberate and come to our answer.”

Brivere nodded, quietly clearing his throat as he stepped forward. His eyes softly gazed around, trying to make direct contact with each individual council member and apostle. “I know that tradition is important, and I would never disrespect our culture and proud history. That is why I propose that we start this new custom, not starting with me, but with my late father Prion.”

The council broke out into a wave of confused murmurs as King Dorephan raised his brow. “My father used his abilities to protect and advise the king in order to help our kingdom prosper. I simply wish to pick up where he left off and protect Prince Sidon. With this, we can start a new tradition where my descendants will dedicate themselves to the royal family. I wish to create this position not to gain more power or status, but merely to pledge my bloodline’s loyalty to the royal line from now on. Whatever your decision, I am thankful for your consideration.”

With this, Prince Sidon and his First Knight Brivere bowed respectfully before turning to leave the chamber.

;

“How do you think it went?” Brivere asked as he and his prince strolled down one of the palace’s many halls.

“To be quite frank, it is difficult to tell. They all looked about as indifferent as you usually do.” Sidon teased, trying to ease his knight’s tension. His attempt failed, as Brivere looked up at him with a rare worried look in his eyes, clearly wanting to ask something. “And no, I did not use my abilities to read their emotions. You know that I never use them without the person’s clear consent unless it is an emergency.”

Brivere nodded sheepishly, ashamed that the prince had caught onto his curiosity. “I apologize, my lord, it was improper of me to expect such a thing from you. I am just thankful that you helped me with the research and construction of my argument. This never would have happened without your assistance.” Sidon chuckled at his knight’s modesty. The two of them stopped in front of one of the windows, quietly enjoying the sight of their beloved Domain sprawled out before them.

Turning to face the golden Zora, Sidon let a genuine smile stretch across his pale face. “No matter the outcome, I do not regret supporting the Oracle Knight. But are you absolutely certain that your bloodline will not feel chained to and resent the title?”

“I have already told you of the visions that I had.” Brivere said softly, not looking away from the window. “Although, I did not mention them during the hearing because I worried that the council may think that I was making them up for my own benefit. But as long as you believe me, I am confident in my decision.”

Sidon nodded and turned back to gaze at the citizens walking around, enjoying the sunny weather. “Could you tell them to me again?” he asked gently.

Brivere slightly bobbed his head up and down before closing his eyes, basking in the sunlight. “I saw myself training a young girl who looked so similar to me. She always followed around a young man who looked so similar to you. This girl could predict the future, and she used this gift to protect and serve the young man. They went everywhere together, maintaining an admirably strong bond no matter how terrible the war or how great the distance. Then, the girl was training a little boy who looked more like her, but I could still see myself in him, and he followed around another little boy who looked so much like you that it hurt.”

“I watched the same cycle repeat through generations and generations of our bloodline, the powerful bond between our families never breaking. It was obvious that my descendants didn’t despise their role. Instead, they were completely honored to have the chance to protect the person they loved for the rest of their lives. And in each of them, I saw our Domain finally at peace, continuing to thrive under your family’s rule.”

The two of them leaned against the window sill in silence, enjoying the thought of their descendants thriving within their beloved kingdom. Brivere only opened his eyes when he felt Sidon’s strong arm rope around his waist. “And did you happen to see if my future children were also yours?” the prince teased.

Brivere flushed, quickly looking around to see if anyone else was nearby. The two of them and the Hylian Champion had been in an open relationship with each other for a while now. He and Link weren’t dating, a fact that bothered Brivere for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, but were rather just friends that happened to be in love with the same prince. However, their polyamorous relationship was unheard of in Zora culture, who mated with only one person for the rest of their lives, always with a strong soul-bond. Anything else was taboo. Brivere knew this well, considering what happened with his late mother.

As a result, they decided to keep the whole thing secret for now since all of them held such high and public positions. And even though the Hylian Champion was off fighting the Calamity, the other two Zoras decided to keep their own bond a secret, not wanting to expose themselves without him.

But Sidon would always tease the golden knight, saying that if he and Link developed into something more then he would easily approve. Brivere would always ignore it in turn. There’s no way he could date a man he used to despise; their current friendship is nothing short of a miracle.

So there was no reason to push or hope for anything more and possibly ruin that.

Finding no one, Brivere eased up slightly and leaned against Sidon’s chest, angling his tail so that it wouldn’t be squished in-between them. “Admittedly, I couldn’t tell. I was more focused on watching the actions of our children rather than their actual relation to each other.” The prince hummed in response, leaning his head on top of Brivere’s as they continued to gaze at the scenery outside of the window. Neither of them had any idea of how much time had passed when they heard a guard calling their names. They quickly pulled apart from each other as he came around the corner, announcing that the council had reached their decision.

Thanking him, both Zoras ran over to the council’s chamber, stopping out of sight of the entranceway to catch their breaths and recompose themselves. Sidon was the first to straighten up, giving his knight a reassuring squeeze on the arm before turning to face the entranceway. Swallowing the anxiety that crept up his throat, Brivere followed his prince into the chamber.

When the two of them had fully entered, the council and apostles present hushed their conversations to watch the Prince and his Knight position themselves in front of the king. Brivere whipped out his sword, going back into the same position as the beginning of the last meeting. He held his head down and gripped onto the weapon until Sidon gave him the same nod, and then he spun the sword around again until it hung off of his back, buckled into the weapon strap. Although the council had already come to their decision and no amount of theatrics could change it now, Brivere figured that he may as well give them a show they wouldn’t forget.

“First Knight Brivere and my beloved son Prince Sidon.” King Dorephan said in a proud voice. “The council has agreed to create the new position and title of the Oracle Knight.”

Years of maintaining a stone-cold mask of indifference was the only thing that saved Brivere’s dignity in that moment. If it hadn’t been for his aquired muscle memory in keeping a tough, indifferent appearance, he would have jumped around and shouted with joy. One quick moment of eye contact with Prince Sidon made it easy to tell that the prince wanted to do the same, but he was much less skilled at hiding it. The wide smile that stretched across his face completely gave him away.

“However, in exchange, the Oracle Knight will have a few differences from the First Knight, in order to balance out the power and maintain the tradition of First Knight.” Brivere nodded hesitantly. Fair enough. “The First Knight will continue to be the captain of the knights, but the Oracle Knight will not. Rather, they will solely be the personal knight and advisor of their designated member of the royal line. Both knights will report to their ruler, but neither will have any formal control over the other. Each will be considered to be the same in terms of status and equal in their importance. Does this satisfy the two of you?”

They bowed in unison and said “Yes, your majesty.” Brivere then stepped forward and knelt before the council members. “I am extremely grateful to all of you for your approval. I promise that I and my future descendants will never come to make any of you regret this decision.”

“We will be holding you to that,” King Dorephan chuckled. “However, there is more to our decision. In order for us to establish this new title, we have one more addition to the role of the Oracle Knight.” Brivere and Sidon glanced up, unable to keep the confusion off of their faces.

“We will explain more in a moment, but the two of you should prepare yourselves to speak in front of the whole Domain.”

;

An announcement was made that the Prince would be giving an important speech that pertained to everyone, even the Undercity dwellers, and so every Zora in the Domain was crammed together in the large streets near the palace. That is to say that the upper class sat in more comfortable viewing areas while the Undercity Zora tried not to touch them. The streets were alive with the sounds of conversation and rumors, all of the Zora wondering what the announcement would be about. They all prayed that it wasn’t a worrying declaration of something catastrophic happening again in the Domain, such as another Water Blight spreading around.

Their patience finally paid off when the prince came into view on one of the balconies with his First Knight right beside him, as usual. As expected, complete chaos broke out at the site of their beloved Prince, the women shrieking at his handsome appearance and the Undercity Zora hollering in appreciation of his inclusive policies on class equality. The prince rode out the excitement, showing off a wide smile as he waved to the crowd. His First Knight next to him was wearing an unfamiliar but fancy choker that covered all of his upper chest and neck, but no one was paying attention to the reserved golden Zora in favor of the more popular Prince Sidon.

Eventually the prince had to hold up his hand, waiting for the excited crowd to calm down before he spoke. “Zora of the Domain!” he bellowed, making sure each word could be heard by every individual. “I must thank you all for coming on such short notice. The announcement that I will make was the result of a decision made by the council just a few moments ago, and it was important for us to get this information out as soon as possible.”

Prince Sidon paused. “In short, I am in need of a new First Knight.”

A collective gasp washed over the crowd as everyone gawked at the former First Knight who was still standing next to the prince with a blank face. Waves of rumors and conversation soon drowned out the shock as every Zora in attendance speculated how the First Knight had gotten himself removed from his position. Those in the crowd who had always ridiculed and despised Brivere grinned smugly as they watched him continue to stand there with his usual emotionally-devoid stare. They were pleased to imagine how much he was actually squirming under that cold mask of his.

Everyone silenced when the prince raised his hand again. “Just as before, I am making the position open to everyone within the Domain, no matter their bloodline or class. We will decide this with the same tournament system, which will start in a few months. For those who wish to participate, you will need to register in the Basilica within the next few weeks and undergo a mental and physical examination before gaining approval to compete. I wish the best of luck to all of you.”

The crowd cheered, Undercity Zora in particular, and Prince Sidon waited until the noise calmed before he continued. “With that being said, I am proud to ask all of you to pay attention to my new Oracle Knight, Brivere.”

The cheers quickly stopped as the crowd stared in confusion as the prince stepped aside and gestured for the golden Zora to take his place. Oracle Knight? Every Zora was required to learn about the different positions and statuses available within their government, and they had definitely never heard of that one before.

They all finally noticed the very flashy choker that covered most of Brivere’s upper body, and each Zora turned to each other to ask if anyone knew which position it signified. It was definitely fancier than the Prince’s, but there was no way that the former First Knight would suddenly have more status than him. When he opened his mouth, the crowd was almost silent, wanting to hang onto every word that he said, searching for answers.

“First off, I must apologize for the misleading way that my lord introduced me.” Brivere said, shooting a pointed glance to Prince Sidon who just smiled back sheepishly. “I was not removed from my position for any misdeeds on my part. Rather, I have just been appointed to the status of Oracle Knight. It is alright if none of you know of it, because it was created just moments ago by the royal council through my request. Put simply, in this new position, I will advise and protect the royal family, Prince Sidon in particular, with my ability to see the future.”

The crowd gawked at the Oracle Knight, the streets full of shouts of denial and shock. There was only one Zora that everyone knew of that had had that very same power, and that man was dead.

Brivere knew that he didn’t have as much respect built up as Prince Sidon, so he just waited for the crowd to quiet down. It took a while, since everyone was busy trying to wrap their tails around his words, but eventually they calmed down enough for his voice to be heard again.

“Some of you in the crowd are aware of the controversy that has surrounded my lineage ever since my birth. However, I am not here to discuss that or to explain every single rumor to all of you. To make a long story short, I have been confirmed to be the son of Prion, and this choker is the same that he wore.”

To an outsider, one would have thought that the Calamity had struck the Zora Domain once more. The streets shook in complete chaos as everyone began shouting and clamoring for answers. Those who had never known Brivere were completely blindsided by the fact that the late First Knight Prion, a decorated war hero that they all celebrated even to this day, had had a hidden son for so long. And those who did know Brivere either felt embarrassment for being wrong or felt nothing but rage and disbelief.

Several guards had to be dispatched in order to hold back the wild crowd. Prince Sidon threw his arms around as he shouted for everyone to calm down while Brivere reflexively held a battle stance in front of the prince, trying to hold him back from the chaos. The mayhem below nearly drowned out the approaching footsteps of King Dorephan as he walked to the balcony.

“Silence!” the king bellowed, his voice nearly knocking over every Zora in attendance. Instantly, the streets were quiet once more, almost as if the Calamity had killed them all in a heartbeat. “While the shock of these new decisions and discoveries are natural, it is no excuse to treat our speaker with such disrespect. We will release more detailed information about everything later but, for now, I swear to you, my beloved citizens, that we are absolutely certain that Brivere is the son of Prion.”

The crowd let his words sink in, only somewhat satisfied. King Dorephan let out a huff, turning to Brivere who had somehow went through all of the chaos with a straight face. “Please continue, Oracle Knight.”

Brivere nodded and walked back out to the front of the balcony. “I did not come here solely to speak of my new position or to confirm my parentage.” he began. “I must also talk of the additional position that the council has attached to mine: the Holy Knight. It is simply a personal knight and assistant to the Oracle Knight.”

“Similar to the First Knight, the position will be open to everyone, regardless of class or family name. Unlike Prince Sidon’s tournament, however, the winner will not be decided solely on raw strength alone.” Brivere explained. “A series of trials will he held to test for intelligence and a sharp mind. The final stage will be different, but its content will not be revealed until ten people remain. Those who wish to participate will gather in the records hall at dawn 3 months from today.”

“I advise anyone who considers joining to study as much as you can, particularly government politics, but unfortunately, I cannot give any other advice than that.” With this, Brivere bowed. “Thank you all for your time.”

He was about to turn to retreat back into the palace, but he hesitated, clearly sensing something. His body visibly locked up for a moment before he spoke again. “I am aware that many of you may be wondering why we are bothering to hold these trials and tournaments if I could just use my ability to already select the winners.” Everyone in the crowd stared back, dumbfounded.

Brivere quickly tried to explain himself. “Admittedly, I just had a short vision of many of you asking me that very question or disregarding the competitions altogether. However, I encourage you all to try. The future is always subject to change based on your actions, so do not believe that you have no chance. You will only fail if you do not try.”

At this, Brivere paused, and suddenly his golden eyes shifted off to the side. It was clear that he was staring at someone in particular. “Good luck to all of you,” he blurted out, shifting his gaze back before the crowd could determine who he was looking at. “I look forward to working with the winner.” With this, he quickly turned to go back to Prince Sidon’s side, and the two of them followed behind King Dorephan to disappear back into the palace.

;

With the announcements finished, the crowd began to disperse, loudly talking amongst themselves about the shocking news of not only the discovery of Prion’s lost son but also the rare addition of two new titles. Undercity Zora were absolutely ecstatic, boasting about how they were going to prepare for Prince Sidon’s tournament or the Oracle Knight’s trials as they swam back down to their homes. Uppercity Zora complained about the Undercity Zora’s excitement, confident that none of them would win against the elite class. But no matter where they were from, gossip began to flow between every Zora about the day’s new discoveries.

Estuu watched it all from the tall rock that he was perched on. He had been listening to the announcements from this height, wanting to avoid getting smothered in the rambunctious crowd that had filled out the streets earlier.

Admittedly, when everyone had burst into complete havoc at the announcement of Brivere being Prion’s son, Estuu had had a bit of a meltdown. He had covered his ears and whined, his tail wildly smacking against his back. King Dorephan’s loud voice had almost sent him over the edge, but his older brother’s familiar tone had brought him back.

Estuu didn’t quite understand why his brother had looked at him like that around the end of his speech. Part of him knew that it was because the overprotective Zora was worried about him, but the other part argued that there was something else in his older brother’s gaze. But Estuu quickly shook the strange feeling off, knowing that he had something else more pressing to attend to.

When the crowd had mostly disappeared, save for the usual residents who lingered in the streets to talk to their neighbors, Estuu carefully climbed down from the rock with his one functioning hand. He quickly scurried through the streets towards the library.

If he made it in time, he could still rent out enough books to study for the Holy Knight trials.

#sidon #prince sidon #botw #breath of the wild #loz #legend of zelda #coma baby #brivere #estuu #link #fic for a fic #ao3 #banishedone #banishedfics #trying to tie loose ends #catharsis #tttle

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wasabi-duck · 8 years ago

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prince jungkook

okay everyone i have requests piling on up but good old clinical mental health problems™ are kind of yikes

but royalty au is my FAVORITE you have no idea like it's my fave au besides ouran but like au ohdaibljarh i love it

jungkook is leo lmao jk

so this kingdom is going to be a total rip off of nohr because i love my emo son leo and his dumb retainers

jungkook is the baby of his family, the youngest lil prince in the castle

he's kind of spoiled rotten honestly because his older brothers absolutely adore him, and they shower him in more attention than he knows what to do with

like he could bat an eyelash and hoseok would be at his side, asking if he needed anything

whenever he wants to practice his sparring, yoongi immediately stops whatever they're doing to help with bow and arrow practice or sword skills

jimin ALWAYS sneaks him pastries and buns from the kitchen

speaking of which pineapple buns?? ten out of ten would recommend

and while the princes are beautiful and kind and soft the kingdom itself is not

it's a dark kingdom, a rainy kingdom, where the sun rarely seems to shine

the main focus of the kingdom is agriculture, even though that's always a bust because of the terrible climate

they really make more money through weapon sales and trade all that good stuff

even though the kingdom is kind of tight on money yikes

but it's not like falling to shambles, not at all

the king runs a very tight schedule, and things are very organized, very controlled, very well run

yoongi is next in line for the throne, but the king totally favors jungkook and low key tries to give him more power than the other princes

but jungkook doesn't want that!! he just wants to chill with all his brothers and have a good time!!

okay let's get on with the story because i had a quality idea and boy howdy i sure forget things fast

alright, so the princes are making one of their daily visits to the town

but disguised, because things are no fun when everyone is bowing and trying to kiss your feet

cliche--- but i love it--- they have the really large cloaks and they just keep the cowls up because that would totally work

lol it does in this scenario

they love to look at the local produce, drink cheap ale at the local tavern, play tag with the local kids, and just interact with their people

not something the king does everyday lmao

today, it's rather cold, and jungkook can see that winter is coming by the way frost crawls up the trunks of trees, the way the birds have already started flying south, the way more and more shops close their doors to ward off the wintery winds

the boys still like to visit around town though

jungkook especially loves seeing the transformed landscape

as the youngest prince, he's usually cooped up indoors, listening to his tutor drone on about the influence of naval power upon the world, or balancing books on his head to maintain great posture or some other bs

so he loves being outside to see the pond freeze over, or the dirt start to be painted white due to the little snowflakes

he doesn't like seeing so many people so worried about their futures though

like i said, poorer kingdom, so most of the people suffer through the cold months with one blanket for a family of five, and half a loaf of bread amongst them

jungkook always tries to give people money, but yoongi tells him that's only temporary aid and he will make changes once he's in power

that doesn't ease the hurt in jungkook’s heart though

anyway they're in town right, and the middle two boys have gone off to god knows where, leaving yoongi and jungkook to themselves

they're in the middle of town, strolling amongst the various vendors, examining all the goods made available to them

out of the corner of his eye, he watches someone dart towards the bakers cart

there's a loud crash and jungkook spins around to see you on the ground, loaf of bread tucked under your arm

someone starts shouting and you push yourself off the ground, trying to desperately run for your life

a few soldiers start chasing after you and you're running fast, so fast, you don't pay attention to your surroundings and completely slam into jungkook, causing you to once again fall on your butt

one of the soldiers grabs your a and yanks you to your feet

“common filth like you ought to spend the rest of your days in prison, rotting away until the rats-”

“that's enough.” jungkook snaps

“and who are you to tell me what to do?” the guard laughs

jungkook throws off his hood and the guards immediately fall to their knees, begging mercy

jungkook gives you a soft smile, then devotes his attention to the guards

“how DARE you touch my servant like that.”

“your highness, you must be mistaken, this is a common criminal-”

“no, they are my servant, chosen by me to trust the security of this place. you know our enemies could attack whenever and wherever, and i need you to be on your best watch. clearly, you passed my simple test, and you shall be rewarded for it.” jungkook says, haughty tone to his voice.

he pulls a few coins from his change purse and tosses them to the baker

yoongi watches on silently, thinking of all the various ways he's going to beat jungkook’s insolent little ass tonight

you're shaking, badly, and you can't believe you were just saved by one of the princes, let alone the cutest one

jungkook turns on his heel to leave, and you're like oh gods i need to thank him--

he turns his head “why are you just standing there? no servant of mine should be wasting time, gaping like a complete idiot.”

yoongi: boy what the f u c k

and that's where you find yourself later that evening, standing in jungkook’s room, freshly washed up and dressed in an outfit finer than anything you've seen, let alone worn in your entire life

“i've never had a servant close to my age.” jungkook is sitting on the edge of his bed, kicking his legs back and forth. “this will be fun i think. you're bound to be infinitely better than the boring old ladies that watch over me.”

you're too frightened to speak, so you stand there silently, shoulders tensed, eyes wide, hands clasped in front of you, trying to look anywhere but jungkook

“well come on, aren't you going to tell me your name?”

and so you do, sheepishly, so quiet that jungkook has to ask again

he nods when he finally hears you and then he kinda gets silent because yes he's the prince but he's kind of shy when it actually comes down to talking to people close to him in age

he starts kicking his legs again and then he gives you a quick look over

“well i guess i'll have to find someone to train you…” he says with a sigh

and you're like excuse me what you're the one who picked me off the street honey

but you can’t actually say that to him because like that shiz could get you beheaded or something and that is not what you need in life oh no

so you just kind of follow behind silently as he leads you off to where all the royal butlers and maids hang out and do their training mm hmmm

and when jungkook leads you in everyone is like ooh what’s up with the prince ooh look at the lil cutie he’s brought in

and they’re all like old so they can tease him like that because they practically raised this boy??

jungkook gets all red and he starts to stammer how it’s not like that and how he just wanted someone closer in age to serve him

and he just is like gotta blast sorry everyone

and so he leaves right away, not even giving you a good bye

you blink and all the servants swarm you, asking how you got jungkook to fall in love with you so quickly and you’re like in love what does that meaN

after all their inspecting and gossip about you, they actually get down to business about what you gotta do for jungkook as his new personal maid/butler

it seems simple

you have to accompany him to all his meetings, whether they be negotiations, tutoring lessons, or even dinner

you’re supposed to stay back and be like a shadow, just keeping an eye in case the dearest prince should ever need something

you also have to serve him tea in the afternoons, or at least, know how to

you need to help him dress in the morning and at first you’re like red in the face, sweating nervously, stuttering because what???

but the servants tell you that this job is only for really formal occasions, like when foreign princes and princesses come to visit and jungkook is too impatient to figure out how to wear his sash smh

basically you have to attend to his every need and you’re like great, i cannot wait, i’m ecstatic

or maybe, every time you touch, you feel the static (w/jungkook) and that’s why you’re so excited mm hmm

rijijaijajirt anyway

you’re super nervous especially since you just came off the streets, literally, like you have no social status or skills or ability to actually serve jungkook well

you’re like i will be beheaded within five days

you get the rundown on the whole thing, the whole job thing

and then the servants take you down to the servants’ quarters so you can set up a bed and sleep early so you’re well rested for the big day tomorrow

you set up a little spot in the corner of your room, and you’re like alright, i just need to sleep and maybe i’ll realize this is all a dream

nah fam

it’s not

because in burst jungkook, forlorn and confused look on his face

the servants are all rushing to bow and like ask what the deal is because royalty are so above entering the servants’ quarters (save hoseok who likes to come down every morning and say hi)

and jungkook points at you all accusing “aren’t you coming back? it’s been like three hours, you’re supposed to be back”

you look around at all the servants because “y’all just said i could sleep”

but they shrug and start to shoot each other looks and you realize that it’s ‘me against the world’

wow getting all the iconic songs in here tonight

you try to hide yourself in the corner but jungkook has obviously spotted you and he gives you this look

“i need your assistance, isn’t that your job? to assist me?”

you inwardly groan but give a nod of the head because this boy did save your life, you kinda owe him big time

“come on then!”

jungkook turns on his heel and you follow close behind, the other servants giving you winks and grins as you walk by

jungkook takes you back to his room and you’re like what it is late and i am tired and-

he just plops down on his bed and crosses his legs criss cross apple sauce and smiles all cute and you feel your heart start to stir at the innocence of him

“i want you to read to me.”

“you what now.”

“are you questioning me?”

“i mean, of course. which book your highness?”

jungkook points to one over on his night stand and you pick it up and inwardly stab yourself because it’s a history book about famous battles of lost kingdoms

jungkook looks so excited though and his eyes light up and you’re like oh my god fine…

you don’t know where to stand though and you kind of stand there awkwardly and open the book but it feels like you’re preaching to him or something

jungkook rolls his eyes and scoots over on the huge canopy bed and pats the now empty space beside him

“when i was little, my brothers would always read to me. yoongi was the worst. he always spoke all monotone and he would tell me horror stories and i would cry and then jimin would have to calm me down. yoongi is mean.”

when you don’t take the seat, he turns his head “i command you sit next to me.”

so you take a reluctant seat beside him with the heavy book still in your arms, doing your best not to look over at jungkook because you know that it’s wrong to look royalty in the eye let alone touch them

or like, idk, sit on their bed

while they are also sitting on the said bed

“hoseok was the best at reading. whenever he would read me fairy tales, he would change voices for all the characters!! he would always make them so exciting and give everything a happy ending…”

“so you have three brothers then?” you ask slowly, knowing that you’re not supposed to address jungkook so… familiarly

“three. i’m the baby. me and hoseok have the same mom, so maybe that’s why he likes me the most.” jungkook turns to face you. “but yoongi is the only son of the actual queen. so he’s the one who’s next in line obviously. he’s the one who was out with me! he likes me a lot too. jimin likes me too.”

“everyone likes you it seems.”

“i hope so.”

you two fall silent but it’s not really uncomfortable, just wary, because you two are in very distinct and separate roles that should never ever be more than a prince and servant, like they shouldn’t ever grow beyond that

but jungkook seems so… genuine? he saved your life and he treats you like an equal already, going as far to talk to you so openly about his family and everything? amazing, what a hero

anyway monsta x hero japanese version actually flows very nicely and you can tell they put a lot in time into making the japanese work with the music and beat so check it out my dudes

also anyone trying to go their concert…

okay anyway you start reading and it’s the most boring and dry thing you have ever read in your entire freaking life and you just wanna fall asleep but jungkook seems pretty fascinated so you keep going for his sake

it’s really pretty bad like you have no idea what pineapples have to do with warfare but they’re a pretty key role in this book

jungkook is practically leaning on your shoulder now because he wants to see all twenty seven of the pictures and he’s so excited by them

“it’s because, since i won’t have to get married because our kingdom pisses everyone off, i’ll probably be commander of the army or something. when yoongi steps down i mean. because he’s the one who has to be married, because he’s the only non-bastard son, ya know?”

you glance over at him “but aren’t you scared?”

“no. i live on adrenaline.”

and as you serve jungkook more and more you find that to be true

jungkook does whatever he wants whenever he wants

like one day you’re bringing him the afternoon tea and he’s busy messing around with his loyal doggy that you have to be like “yO YOUR HIGHNESS”

“you can just call me jungkook you know”

he’s bored and wants someone to spar? well it’s time to hop on yoongi’s bed and smash him until he can’t breathe

it’s cold in the castle? time to go and steal all of hoseok’s clothes? (which often end up having to be mended because hoseok is so thin and jungkook is so muscular that… rip (get it because he’s ripped, and the clothes rip…)

where did all of jimin’s dessert pastries go? oh wait they’re stuffed in jungkook’s cheeks

most of your days are spent trying to keep jungkook out of trouble rather than actually helping him do anything

jungkook doesn’t do it to be mischievous or anything, it’s mostly because he wants the attention of his older brothers who are all suddenly too busy to pay much attention to him anymore

he doesn’t actually say that but you can tell

he keeps interrupting literally anything they do and yes they love jungkook but it’s hard to work when he’s disrupting everything

jungkook ends up being such a disturbance that he ends up in solitary confinement

seriously

the king has done had it with jungkook, which is rare, and he tells him he needs to stay in his room until he learns how to behave

jungkook whines and complains but then he figures out you’re basically trapped with him so he’s pretty okay

“chess?’ is the first thing he suggests

“is the purpose to get rid of the king?”

and instead of screaming nOOoOOoooOOooooooOOOoo like casey, the resident asshole of my math class, he offers to teach you how to play since you two have like all the time in the world

all the time in the world being until dinner later that evening

you two sit down in the spacious room and he sets up the chess board

the pieces are glass, and they’re so intricate and beautifully carved and you’re so scared that you might break them or something but jungkook reassures you that everything will be okay and that they would want to be used

he tosses you your queen or king and with a wink goes “wow look the chess piece that represents you”

“wow, did jimin teach you that one?”

“yoongi actually”

“wow, impressive”

you can’t help but blush as you set up your pieces though

you still have no idea how to play though, and you sit there kind of dumbly as jungkook poises, ready to move his first piece

“oh, how could i forget?”

he starts going over all the pieces, and how many spaces they can move and how, and how the game actually works and i’m not actually sure because nobody would answer me in math today smh

but then

then he grabs your hand and delicately guides your fingers to move your first piece and now your heart is racing and your face must be red as the draping over his bed but you try to keep it cook because servants can’t just up and fall in love with their princes, that’s not allowed

oops too late i guess…

jungkook is bad at chess because he’s impatient and he doesn’t really like to take much time planning his moves

which is okay in your book because he likes it’s cute to see him get worked up and puff his cheeks out when you take out one of his pieces

i have the ap language exam tomorrow wait a second

he complains and whines and tells you that you’re cheating by distracting him but he just doesn’t like to lose

but he wants you to win because your eyes light up and you get all smiley when you take another one of his pieces and wow he is in love

he is in like, love is a big commitment and hoseok already warned him that their father would be furious if jungkook fell for you, even if he is the favorite son

jungkook told hoseok that nothing like that would ever happen but lol here we are my dudes, here we are

after you crush jungkook in chess, he decides that the next best thing to do to win his honor back is play you in dice

which he also loses at because he likes seeing your smile too much and his honor is something he’s willing to sacrifice if you’re happy in the end

“i’m so sad that i lost, maybe you should make it up to me.” jungkook pouts, flinging himself onto his bed dramatically soon afterward

“well what did you have in mind?”

“tell me a story.”

so you walk over to his bookcase, the one full of tales of old, and reach out to grab the history of war for what has to be the millionth time

but jungkook stops you with a soft, “no, from your head.”

like so many times before he pats the empty seat beside him, and you take your seat, snuggling you back up to the fluffy pillows

you take a deep breath and begin

“there once was a prince in a far away kingdom, with dragons and warlocks and pegauss knights. he was youthful and bright, with eyes like a deer and the curiosity of one too. he had the sweetest smile and the chubbiest cheeks and his nose was too big for his face, but in an endearing, adorable sort of way. the prince was adored by everyone, from his father, to his brothers, to the townspeople. everyone had heard of his skill with a sword, his knowledge of the worlds around him, but mostly his kindness that stretched even to the most lowly of people.”

you expect jungkook to say something saucy in remark but he listens with rapt attention, his gaze focused on you and you alone

“the prince loved everyone, but he couldn’t seem to ever find it in his heart to believe in himself.”

you know this to be true about jungkook

you’ve watched him spend countless hours sparring, and then beating himself up about messing up one move out of seven million, then pick his sword back up to practice once again

you see him as he preens and preps to dress more like yoongi, to walk more like hoseok, to converse more like jimin in the most subtle ways possible

he constantly finds things about himself to pick apart, and it breaks your heart

“the prince was always so busy caring for others, that he forgot to care for himself.”

jungkook rests his head on your shoulder and inhales slowly

you take a deep breath

you close your eyes

and then you take your hand in his, intertwining your fingers

jungkook gives your hand a tight squeeze

the story continues, and then the story soon ends, though jungkook has fallen asleep on your shoulder and will not hear of how the prince and his ever loyal servant end up with the happiest of endings

“and they lived happily ever after.” you whisper, leaning down and kissing the top of his head

you don’t remember drifting off but you sure as heck do, because the next thing you hear is hoseok’s shrieking

like shrieking as in he probably get stabbed and the castle is under attack

you go to get up but there is an arm around your torso and a face buried in your back and you’re finally piecing everything together

“jungkook, you gotta let go-”

another horrified shriek from hoseok

“i mean your highness------”

hoseok runs over to the two of you and shakes jungkook awake

“hurry up, if you two are in love which by the looks of it, you are, there’s only a limited amount of time that i can marry you before father finds out. i may not be ordained, but i could bullshit my way through it”

jungkook pushes himself up groggily and stares down at you because what are you doing here??

oh wait a second

hoseok is pulling at both of your arms but it’s too late, in walks the king, with jimin and yoongi pulling at his arms to try and stop him

the king stares at the scene, at hoseok trying to block to you, at jungkook yawning with his arm still around your waist, at your absolutely horrified face

“jungkook”

“father no, wait-”

“this isn’t your battle to fight hoseok, now leave”

“father, pl-”

“i said LEAVE”

the other three princes scurry out and now it’s just you, jungkook, and the king

he’s an intimidating man, muscular as jungkook, but with a hard face and sharp features

you and jungkook rush to stand up and bow, you avoiding his gaze at all costs

the king walks over and commands you both to stand

you’re trembling now and jungkook holds onto your hand in an attempt to somehow reassure you, but it’s not happening because you feel like you’re about to break down in tears now

the king won’t say anything and it seems like time has frozen completely

but then he pulls jungkook into his arms and hugs him tightly

you’re both in shock to say the least

the king hugs jungkook tighter “my precious son, how you’ve grown”

and then the king pulls you into his arms and now it’s a family hug and you’re wondering why this is happening and how he is okay with this but then you remember that jungkook’s mother was a maid

and suddenly things are starting to make more sense

“father, i… i love them”

“as i’ve noticed my boy.”

jungkook nods and you can see the tears in his eyes, and you can see the tears in his father’s eyes

“i remember when you were first born… you were so small, so helpless… now look at you, pulling the same tricks i did when i first met your mother.”

he ruffles jungkook’s hair and now all of you are laughing softly, at ease at the way the situation played out

hoseok pokes his head in the door “so when’s the wedding?”

yes, there is a wedding

a grand and beautiful wedding to which the entire kingdom is invited to attend

complete with thousands and thousands of flowers

with a giant cake that jimin keeps trying to swipe icing off of

with hoseok sobbing his eyes out and continually trying to pull jungkook into a tight and bone-crushing hug

with yoongi being the one who volunteers to walk you down the aisle

and yes, jungkook is too impatient to figure out just how to put his suit on correctly, sash and all

your hands are shaking as you fix the crown atop his head

and your hands are shaking hours later when he slips the silver band onto your finger

and yes, they are still shaking when you cup his face in your hands and lean in for your first kiss with the boy you are going to spend the rest of your life with

#this boy gets me so soft #jungkook scenario #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #prince au #bts au #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts writing #bangtan fluff #bangtan scenarios #bangtan imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook is my lil fluff ball angel baby

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whispers-of-ink · 7 years ago

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2186, Chapter VIII: The theater of the human species

Harper had gathered the strength to cross the yard, blocking away any fears, jumping into the void and... they wouldn’t be opening until seven hours laters. The whole world fell to the ground, as doubts filled back the gaps around the courage. Leaving now meant probably never coming back. Harper wasn’t even sure of wanting to get in there.

Taking a deep breath, reading the poster again, it said: “We open from 3-19.00 to 3-21.00“. Lucky, even; they only opened every third day, the last third of an optay, which also was that day.

Once again, the naughtiest part of Harper’s mind remembered that, in movies, the greatest heroes always have to wait until they open the door, even if they tell them no for a whole day, and have them stand there, hungry in the cold and the rain. A challenge to overcome, part of demonstrating one’s worth and discipline. Harper knew this wasn’t the case. No one was forbidding the entry, except for the hateful poster. Also, Harper was hungry.

Looking around and deliberating, it became obvious that neither leaving or entering were valid options. And so, Harper decided to suck it up and stay in the zone. The last jump into the void had been liberating, and enough for a little courage to go deeper into the Former Old Town.

Not too deep.

Harper had lunch at a local that seemed... correct, compared to the rest, and took all the time in the world to dilate having more adventures. That had been enough.

When the moment to attend the theater arrived, Harper had already been waiting for half an hour, thinking at the stairs. Those who arrived gathered at the gates, talking animatedly. Others chose to sit at the stairs, and just like Harper, they looked around as if everything was about to explode. One of them looked directly at Harper, startling herself, and turned to look straight ahead, to the theater. Harper sighed, standing up. It was at that precise instant that the watch beeped the hour, and someone opened the doors.

The group entered amongst nervous gigles and haughty looks. These last one were guiding the flock. They climbed the stairs to what yore must have been a theatre pit. The stage was partly ruined by something heavy that still sticked out among the debris. On the space left, a group of several men and women awaited. The age difference between all of them was evident, yet not as much as the nudity of their torsos and the tattoos on their skin. In Harper’s time that would have been heavily censored, women nipples were considered scandalous to say the least, yet nobody there seemed to care.

Making an effort to not seem affected, Harper took a discrete seat near the entrance, and waited for it to start, unable to stop staring at those almost naked people. Harper found that it wasn’t morbid pleasure, but mental conflict. Those people were naked from the waist up, yes, full of tattoos, legs and arms separated, chests out, defiant postures. They sought conflict, to inflict that shock in their audience. And Harper couldn’t find any of them attractive. Not by TV standards. The women weren’t skeletal and the men weren’t mostly muscle. They were just people, normal people, in all colors and sizes, their nakedness was just as anyone’s before getting in the shower at night, and that was why Harper could not look away. That visceral reality, that for which Harper claimed to fight for, was presented before everyone unabashedly. Those people had nothing to hide nor where to hide it, They were of the human species. There was that, and nothing else.

A woman and a man took the stage and positioned themselves in front of the posturing ones. They waited for the whispers to cease. Most of them were already sitting or standing in the sides.

The woman took a step forward and pierced the public with her eyes. “We’re here today for many reasons,” she said. “All and each of your reasons.”

“We are here today,” the man repeated, mimicking her step, “because we have won as much as we have lost.”

“I see new faces...” She swept the public with her eyes and stopped at Harper. “... and not so new ones.”

"Amongst you there are men and women, organics and optimals, and everything in between those extremes.”

“Amongst us there are brave warriors.”

“You’re here because you want to join the cause. To stand up and do something about it.”

“You’re here because you want to celebrate the victories and mourn the defeats of whatever little is left of the human race.”

Silence fell. The constant change between speakers had been befuddling, yet each word had resonated so much, each word thought ever since weaking up to this world. It all sounded tremendously illegal. All of it seemed designed to drag them into madness. They had taken noticed in Harper’s face, the spot that had seemed discreet hadn’t been a good hideout, but they couldn’t stop anyone from leaving. Harper was free to leave. And, deep inside, knew that didn’t want to.

The woman and the man directing the meeting looked at each other, taking a deep breath. They said nothing, but she nodded and left the stage.

“I know the new ones must be confused. Optimals and improved, here? Everyone is welcomed here. Anyone makes mistakes. We cannot blame these people for trying to have a better future, a better place amongst the brainless machines that have taken the planet from us. To err is human, and many are here because they understand what was taken from them. There’s no blame on that. There’s no better proof of their commitment, of your commitment, that knowing that you risk your lives to be here today. An optimal can’t be awake more than seventy five hours. They might die at any moment after the seventy hour mark.

He sighed. “I know that some of you might still be in doubts. I know some of you are afraid. Who are we? Why do we do this?”

He took a step back and the tattoed people advanced until they were standing directly beneath the ceiling lights.

“Here are our bravest warriors,” he said. “All of them fight for the same cause and under the same flag. Their tattoes are proof of their achievements. They have all sworn and demonstrated loyalty and commitment.”

He approached a skinny woman.

“Thanks to Tina, yesterday the European Court recognized the problem of organic poverty in the cities and ruled in favor of reinstating us into society. They have commited to ending our situation and declared as a human right the choice to not improve oneself.”

The host was cut. Some stood up and applauded. Harper saw a man crying in a nearby aisle. The man on the stage smiled and joined the applause to Tina. She humbly nodded.

The host continued after the public had calmed down. He put a hand in the shoulder+ of an asiatic man. “Ahmed lost his daughters in a terrible accident. Two optimized lads had a fight at the park where they were playing. They were workers from a nearby warehouse. They weren’t aware of the added strength their improvements gave them. The police said it was involuntary. They hadn’t learnt to control it properly yet.” He looked at the public. “Supposedly, there are means to prevent this, yet more than fifteen hundred kids have died in accidents like this one in the last decade.”

The man kept a moment of silence to look at Ahmed, who was fiercely piercing the floor with his eyes. “Ahmed is a hundred, fifty-seven years-old,” the host continued. “He has not much left because he optimized late in life. He did it hoping for a better future. He and his husband were able to concibe two beautiful girls thanks to modern science, something for which we will always be grateful. But they took them from them. Nowadays, it is thanks to him that less and less warehouses open near parks or places frequented by the organic youth. Neither warehouses or other dangerous buildings. He has not only achieved this legally, but he also lead the direct confrontation. Thanks to him, our little ones are safer in the street.”

There were more applauses and tears and cheers. Harper applauded too, though not standing, the head filled with the clear image of two girls crushed in the debris of a metallic castle. The man in the stage carried on to the next, and the next, and the next, and as in trance, Harper observed and heard each story the host was serving them, pointing at each signicative mark in their bodies as he talked on.

“Not everything have been victories,” he finally stated. “Last week, two of our people died in a organofobic attack. The police said they were agitators for defending an old couple. Last month, the North Optimal Alliance tried to evict a whole organic neighborhood by setting their houses on fire. Their parasite has reached our city, and we witness every day to more and more outbreaks of violence towards our kind for the mere fact of walking down a street. These people have improvements capable of detecting body heat, and they’ll know right away which of you are human.”

Harper hadn’t heard of any of those outbreaks. Hadn’t lived them at the school —except for the rare case of misbehaviour among students— nor had watched any of it after discovering the modern television. Harper wanted to believe, anyway, and noted to look it up in the internet once home. Then, remembering that smartphones do have Internet, they were also traceable. With a twinge of panic in the chest, Harper hastily turned it off.

“This is the theatre of the human species. This is what we face, day after day, when we go out there and mingle with those who chose to lose all their humanity. And I’m not going to lie to you; we don’t have a solution. It’s dangerous and it affects us all. You may go if you want to; no one is going to stop you. If you ever talk about what you saw here, if you point at us, it will be your hands full of our blood. The ones to survive will start it again somewhere else.”

Harper felt the heart pounding in the chest. It took the man five heart beats to sweep the room with his eyes full of gravity.

“There are many ways to help, and we will always protect those who do with our flesh and blood. I am certain you will have many questions, and I know you are afraid to ask. We will be waiting in the room next door, those of us here and many others, to answer all your doubts and explain how you may start to help. We will never ask a blood oath from you. We will never persecute you to ensure your loyalty. You are free to stay or go. After all, it is you, the last of the human species, who will decide everyone’s future.

The doors suddenly opened, including that behind Harper, who jumped in the seat. The stage went dark. The man came down, followed by his tattoed warriors, and got lost in the group already cramped in the exit.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#amwriting #writer #writing #list #scifi #sci-fi #sci fi & fantasy #short novel #shot story #story #futuristic #robots #english #dystopia

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linslovelylocks · 8 years ago

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I can't help falling in love

It began, as many things do, with a tweet. @Mary_Clemens Any plans for meeting the infamous @Y/N anytime soon? I hear she's been obsessed with your work @Lin_Manuel Gosh, I wish! You think anyone would notice if I 'casually' bumped into her? It didn't feel earth shattering, in that moment. You hardly even paused. You responded before you had a chance to think. @You No need. I know a guy who may be able to set you up. The next time your phone buzzed, it alerted you to five new private messages. @Lin_Manuel Were you serious? Because I happen to know the best burger place in all of New York @Lin_Manuel That is if, if you like burgers. Do you like burgers? @Lin_Manuel What am I kidding, who doesn't like burgers. @Lin_Manuel I think they have sandwiches there, just in case. You know, if you don't like burgers. @Lin_Manuel Oh my god, I'm gonna stop talking now. You hit respond. @You I love burgers. It's on. And that, of course, is what led you here, three blocks from the Richard Rogers, waiting patiently for one Lin-Manuel Miranda to show up. "Gosh, I'm so sorry i'm late. There was a problem at the theatre-" He stopped short. Eyes wide, mouth open slightly, he stared at you for a minute before shaking his head, seeming gaining his composure, and sitting down slowly. "You're pretty. I mean, I know you're pretty. You've always been pretty. I've seen you before. Not in like, person. That would be weird. You've never seen me before. It's just, you're so. Wow." He trailed off, face heating. You spent a moment taking him in. Slightly hunched posture, flushed face. Eyes bright and beautiful, watching you carefully. You smiled, shaking your head. "You're fine. I'm itching to try these burgers. Someone told me they were New York's finest." He smiled, and just like that, the tension was broken. You spent almost two hours in that tiny booth, snatching fries off the others plates and telling stories. He was the fastest friend you've ever made. @Lin_Manuel Someone tell @Y/N to take a break. She's been writing for three hours! He had attached a picture of you, bent over the piano in your apartment, pencil in hand. You smiled at the tweet, before calling out to the man on the couch. "I've got a deadline, Mister. Not all of us have six years to finish our work." "Maybe I would have finished faster had I had a dashingly handsome, terribly hungry best friend waiting on me." You shook your head, before standing slowly, and held a hand out to the man in front of you. "Come on, Mr. Handsome, lets go. Burgers are calling my name." The internet, understandably, had a field day with your newfound friendship. From: Mr. Handsome The internet thinks you're pregnant again. To: Mr. Handsome Darn. How will we break the news to them? From: Mr. Handsome You may want to do it carefully. I worry they might take it rather hard. It was almost scary how quickly he became a permanent fixture in your life. And an even more permanent fixture in your home. Hearing the front door unlock, you glanced over to see the door swing open, bearing a tussled brunette, whistling softly. "I got milk while I was out. Did you finish the laundry?" "Yeah, the last loads in right now. You hungry?" "I was thinking burgers for dinner tonight," he said, winking at you, before setting the bags in the kitchen, and joining you on the couch. Lin rested his head on your lap, and you looked down at him, marking your place in your book, and closing it gently. "Tough day?" you whispered. He looked up at you then, smiling softly. "Nah. I just missed you." You didn't find it necessary to tell him you'd missed him too. From the look on his face, he knew. You were never the most observant girl. So when you woke up, one morning, Lin's head on your chest, you started to wonder when the two of you had gotten so.... domestic. "Lin," you whispered, shaking him softly. He opened his eyes then, and rubbed the sleep out of them. "You're gonna be late for work," you said softly, giving him a light push. He glanced at the clock then and, muttering a string of curses, the hands around your hips pulled away, and he was up, shoving on clothes, and hurrying to brush his teeth. It took you a moment to realize you missed them. "Which one do you like better?" you said, gesturing to the dresses lying on the floor. "The blue one. Why, do we have plans?" "No, Daveed's taking me out to dinner, remember? I think he might be vetting me," you said, laughing. It took you a moment to realize Lin hadn't responded. "Babe?" He looked up at you then, but his eyes were distant. "Sorry. The blue one, for sure. He'll love it." Something was wrong, but whatever it was, Lin wasn't telling. You spent the whole night missing him. "Come on, come dance with me." "Absolutely not. Why do you think I never went into theatre?" "Dance with me and i'll take out the trash." "You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Handsome. It's a deal." It shouldn't have surprised you. Something was changing, slowly but surely, and you had felt it for months. But when it came, it hit you like a ton of bricks. "I'll wash, you dry." You nodded, grabbing the plate in front of you, and wiping it clean. It always surprised you, how easy is was to just be there with him. Neither of you spoke. Neither of you needed to. You looked over at him, and it was instantaneous. Some people take years to fall in love, but with Lin, all it took was easy silence. Maybe you'd loved him for months. You didn't know. You didn't care. You didn't even kiss him. He washed, and you dried. It was as simple as that. It ended with a date. An almost date, and one too many drinks. "That guy over there keeps staring at you. Should I touch your boobs or something?" You laughed then, loudly and suddenly, and he smiled back at you. Then, eyes darting left, his arms unwrapped themselves from your waist. "Daveed." The word was short, and utterly unreadable. You took a step back from Lin, and smiled at the newcomer. "You care if I step in?" Daveed asked, question pointed at Lin. His jaw twitched, but he shook his head. He stayed standing there a moment, eyes roaming over you, before seeing something in your expression that made him wince. Without a glance behind him, he left. "Sorry about that," Daveed said, leaning in, "he's always been a bit possessive. How long have you been dating?" He took your hand then, spinning you around, and began to dance. You looked for Lin, but you couldn't find him in the crowd. "We're not dating." He raised his eyebrows. "You might want to tell him that." You smiled then, and he spun you again. "Do me a favor. When he comes back, tell him I asked you out." You shot him a look, quizzical, eyes questioning. He just smiled, and without another word, carefully let go of your hands. "Go. Find him." You went You found him outside, knees against his chest, sitting on the cement outside the bar. "Did you have fun?" He didn't seem angry. "He asked me out." His head shot up then, eyes scanning yours frantically. Not angry, then. Terrified. "What did you say?" He sounded calm, but you could hear the panic in his voice. You bent down, mouth against his ear. "I told him I was a little too in love to bother with another man right now." You pulled back, searching his expression for disgust. It never came. Eyes wide, mouth open, he reminded you almost of the boy he had been that first day you met him, blushing across from you in a tiny booth, in the greatest city in the world. He didn't speak. He didn't have to. Hands buried themselves in your hair, and before you could blink, his mouth was on yours. Your fingers clutched at his shirt, desperate almost, but your mouths were gentle. Slow. This was it, the moment where it all began, but tonight? You had all the time in the world. Did I say it ended with a date? It didn't. It began with one.

#lin x reader #lin imagine #lin/reader #lin manuel miranda imagine #lmm imagine #lin manuel miranda/reader #lmm/reader #lin manuel miranda x reader #lmm x reader

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fixittk-blog · 8 years ago

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Does Le Pen have a chance of winning French presidency?

The assessment surveys say no, and standard way of thinking says she hasn't an expectation.

Anti-extremist Emmanuel Macron is far ahead in the surveys - so is there any path far-right pioneer Marine Le Pen could in any case pull off a stun triumph in France's presidential decision on 7 May?

What do the numbers say?

Since Mr Macron's amazing first-round triumph, the surveys recommend he is around 19 focuses in front of his adversary. The edge has limited yet it is still wide.

The signs search bravo as well. He won 8,657,326 votes in the first round on 23 April, very nearly a million more than his National Front runner-up.

Furthermore, numerous voters who upheld different applicants first time around say they plan to back him as opposed to Ms Le Pen.

He has solid support from key political figures: active Socialist President François Hollande and applicant Benoît Hamon on the left and vanquished Republican competitor François Fillon and ex-President Nicolas Sarkozy on the privilege.

Marine Le Pen's huge upset has originated from pulling in ex-hopeful Nicolas Dupont-Aignan, who won 1.7 million votes and has been guaranteed the part of leader.

So what could turn out badly for Emmanuel Macron? Abstention is the greatest danger, says political researcher Aurélien Preud'homme.

"In the event that there is an extremely frail turnout for Macron and exceptionally solid support for Le Pen, she could go over half of the vote," he told the BBC.

So could unresponsiveness win Le Pen the vote?

Marine Le Pen does not have to go over half in the surveys to end up president, as per one master, the length of Macron voters remain away in sufficiently enormous numbers.

All she needs is to propel somewhat more in the surveys, and this is the way she could do it.

"On the off chance that she gets 42% of the vote, which isn't incomprehensible, and Macron gets 58%, typically she loses the decision," physicist and Sciences Po political master Serge Galam disclosed to RMC radio.

"Be that as it may, if 90% of individuals who said they would vote in favor of Le Pen do it, and in the meantime just 65% of individuals who proclaimed they would vote in favor of Macron really do it, then it's Marine Le Pen who wins the decision with a score of 50.07%."

Serge Galam's scientific formulaImage copyrightSERGE GALAM

It is not that the surveys aren't right, it is recently that they can't gage the level of voter lack of care ahead of time. Under Serge Galam's numerical recipe, he gives three cases of how Marine Le Pen can win, where she is hopeful "A turnout x" and Emmanuel Macron is "B turnout y" with a Turnout (T).

He calls this model "separated abstention".

Regardless of whether the surveys may come up short, it merits bringing up that all the surveying associations were uncannily precise in anticipating where the main six competitors would wrap up.

Marine Le Pen in Amiens on 26 AprilImage copyrightGETTY IMAGES

Picture subtitle

Marine Le Pen's crusade has gotten down to business

US surveyor Nate Silver gives Marine Le Pen zero chance by any means, contending she is in a far more terrible opening than Donald Trump at any point was.

The issues separating Le Pen and Macron

The last applicants

Five things the race has let us know

Why the race matters to such an extent

However, Ian Bremmer of hazard consultancy Eurasia Group puts the shot of a Le Pen triumph at 30%.

"I feel he will win yet it's not a sure thing. It's altogether about turnout and there are externalities that are exceptionally conceivable."

One of those outside components, he accepts, may be a psychological oppressor assault on a more prominent scale than the murder of policeman Xavier Jugelé in focal Paris three days before the first round. Or, on the other hand maybe an episode of fake news.

What are the odds of a low turnout?

It could happen, as the 7 May keep running off comes amidst an occasion end of the week. Why endeavor to remain home and vote on Sunday when Monday is an open occasion? It could work both ways however the Macron vote is greater city-based and more prone to wander far from home.

Individuals posture for pictures before the Eiffel Tower at the Trocadero court, where a spray painting on the ground, alluding to the second round of the presidential race in France, peruses Image copyrightAFP

Picture subtitle

"Neither one of the les Pen, nor Macron" is the message from a few gatherings of French voters

At that point there are simply the critical gatherings who can't bring to back a monetary and social liberal in Emmanuel Macron. Many are pulled in to the hashtag #SansMoile7mai (Without me on 7 May) or depict themselves as "Ni Le Pen Ni Macron" - neither one nor the other.

Another gathering is Sens Commun (Common Sense), a socially traditionalist gathering contradicted to same-sex marriage and appropriation. Their pioneer sees the "political rot" of Mr Macron as the same to the "confusion" offered by Le Pen.

More than four out of 10 voters don't seem persuaded by either competitor, and that could convert into a high rate of abstention.

Verifiably, be that as it may, turnout in the second round is as high as 80%, so there would should be an emotional decay. Most recent surveys recommend seventy five percent of voters expect to cast a vote.

Can Le Pen enhance her odds?

Her principle trust rests in arousing undecided voters, both those wanting to cast a ticket and the individuals who are definitely not.

The far-right pioneer's second-round concentration has been to organize an enthusiastic battle that objectives her adversary as the "competitor of fund" and paints her as the devoted decision.

Macron irritated by star Le Pen specialists

She hosts separated herself from her own particular get-together, suspending her administration of the FN until after the race.

Most drastically, she upstaged Mr Macron by showing up with striking assembly line laborers at Amiens while he was talking in secret to their union pioneers.

Emmanuel Macron in La RotondeImage copyrightGETTY IMAGES

Picture subtitle

Voters were disinterested by Mr Macron's choice to celebrate in luxurious La Rotonde bistro

By complexity Mr Macron at first seemed level footed, start with a festival party on Sunday night at an expensive Paris bistro and what seemed like a reprimand from President François Hollande. "We should be to a great degree genuine and prepared and not believe it's a done arrangement, in light of the fact that a vote is earned, it's battled for."

For Marine Le Pen a considerable measure will hold tight the huge TV duel on 3 May. In prior TV talks about Mr Macron performed recognizably better.

Can she draw in new voters?

Marine Le Pen has as of now accomplished a record number of votes in favor of her gathering and is notwithstanding attempting to separation herself from the brand by restyling herself as the general population's applicant with ex-financier Emmanuel Macron as a "hopeful of the government".

Inside and out: Meteoric ascent of Emmanuel Macron

Inside and out: Is Marine Le Pen far right?

The key lies with two alliances: the conservative of François Fillon's Republican bolster base and the radical left who settled on the unexpected bundle of the first round, Jean-Luc Mélenchon.

Together the two hopefuls surveyed right around 40% of the vote.

Mr Mélenchon at first declined to back either keep running off hopeful, raising the likelihood that an area of against globalization voters could discover basic cause with Marine Le Pen.

In any case, stung by feedback, the far-left pioneer demanded he had not embraced a "not one or the other nor" position and cautioned that a vote in favor of the National Front would be a "horrible oversight".

Tributes to casualties of Nice attackImage copyrightAFP

Picture inscription

Ms Le Pen is setting out toward Nice, where more than 80 individuals were slaughtered in a lorry assault last July

Political researcher Aurélien Preud'homme says numerous on the privilege are inclining towards Marine Le Pen and it just relies on upon whether she can move the concentration amid the last days of battling to her most grounded suit, security and psychological oppression.

"What stops the correct sponsorship Le Pen is Europe and the euro," says Mr Preud'homme. Most Fillon voters are of a particular age and they're the ones who stress over leaving the euro - it would be exceptionally stressing for them."

On the off chance that Trump can do it, why not Le Pen?

Marine Le Pen's dad Jean-Marie Le Pen has as of now said she ought to have embraced a more forceful battle style in the way of Donald Trump.

He toppled a twofold digit lead over Democratic applicant Hillary Clinton to win the US decision last November.

In any case, she has little time left and may not discover enough voters to prevail upon.

It merits recollecting that when she won the first round of decisions in six of France's 13 areas in 2015, she looked on course to change the course of French governmental issues. Be that as it may, it never happened and her gathering was crushed in the second round.

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thefabulousfulcrum · 8 years ago

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We Are Careening Toward the First Industrialized State of Anarchy

via TruthDig

By Neal Gabler / Moyers and Company

So many of us were wrong, myself included, about Donald Trump. We saw in the jut-jawed, brow-furrowed Mussolini-like posturing, in the blatant narcissism, in the reckless disregard for truth, the anger and incitement to hatred, the declamations that he would fix everything single-handedly on Day One of his presidency, his disdain for democracy and hints that he would lock up his opponents — we saw in all of these things incipient fascism.

After the inauguration, I began reading Victor Klemperer’s chilling diaries on the rise of Nazism, I Will Bear Witness, and Sebastian Haffner’s memoir of the early days of Hitler, Defying Hitler. The analogies were all too close. Others on these pages have made similar observations. We were on the verge of something unprecedented, something horrifying. We were on the verge of authoritarian government headed by an ignoramus and possible psychopath. We were on the verge of the end of democracy.

And then, last Friday, with the demise of the Republican attempt to repeal Obamacare and replace it with… well, with a massive tax giveaway to the rich, we discovered — I discovered — that I was fearing the wrong thing. It’s not Trump’s ability to marshal the forces of repression that should terrify us. It’s his inability to marshal forces to conduct even the most basic governance. Trump really is a presidential Joker. He knows how to wreak havoc, but he doesn’t seem to know how to do, or seem to want to do, much else.

This isn’t to discount the fascistic dangers inherent in Trump. We all know that he has an authoritarian temperament. He likes the binary and berates the latter in the pairs: winners and losers, majorities and minorities (never mind that he won a minority of the popular vote), rich and poor, powerful men and feckless women, bullying America and every other country. He prefers muscle to negotiation, despite his much vaunted, and now much tarnished, skill at dealmaking. He loves strongmen and considers himself one of them.

His desire, doubtless, was to Putinize this country with the help of his Republican lackeys. Or perhaps the better analogy is that he wanted to turn the country into one giant episode of The Apprentice, in which everyone vied for his favor. With seigniorial hauteur, he, King Donald, would point thumbs-up or thumbs-down.

So here is the good news. Whatever his dreams of dominance and his possible aspirations to one-man rule, he simply does not have the aptitude or the discipline to realize them. We saw that last week. He thought he could bully, charm, finesse, arm-twist and threaten his way to victory, but no one was buying it — in part, I think, because he tried to make it all about his power, not the power of Congress, and he was already on such thin ice before the Obamacare debacle that he didn’t have much suasion with them.

Why abet him, those Republican misanthropes may have thought, when at some point, they knew they might have to distance themselves from him? In any case, some of those legislators realized that Trump and his aides were way out of their depth. Hitler was able to parlay his minority into implacable power because he organized a rigid, disciplined crew of sociopaths on a mission. Trump has the gang that couldn’t shoot straight.

So that’s the good news — sort of. To have an authoritarian state, you have to possess not just the impulse to authoritarianism but the talent for it, which is more than saying, “It’s going to be great,” or “Believe me,” or telling opponents how “sick” and “sad” they are.

Now for the bad news. Two diametrically opposed impulses seem to have been warring in Trump for quite a while — that authoritarian tendency to rule, and a tendency to create misrule. If Trump isn’t a fascist, or at least a successful one, he is something nearly as bad: Donald Trump is a solipsistic anarchist.

Of course he wants to accrue power, which may be what misled us into thinking he was a potential fascist. It’s just that he doesn’t seem to know how to do anything with it other than to promote himself and puff his ego, which means that everything crumbles around him. And of course, like most strongmen, he wants to do harm to the less powerful — to wit, immigrants and the poor — but it may be no accident that even his attempts at strong-arming turn out to have the opposite effect: chaos.

The truth may be that chaos is more his métier than tyranny. As much as he says he hates losing, we may have actually caught a glimpse of the real Trump, the one sitting at his desk, smug and seemingly self-satisfied after his terrible defeat on Friday. This Trump may have thought he won by losing. No, he hadn’t won the congressional vote. But he had sown disarray, certainly within his own party and gradually throughout the health care system, especially once he joins judicial challenges to curb Medicaid expansion, as he undoubtedly will. The anarchistic tendency prevailed over the authoritarian one. Things fell apart. He wasn’t necessarily an unhappy Joker.

This is what many of the pundits, myself included, may have missed in the whole Obamacare repeal-and-replace saga. We thought there was some ideological obsession on the right with repealing Obamacare because it was a government program, because it helped people whom Republicans believed undeserving (the poor), and because it was a signal achievement of the Obama administration: not necessarily good reasons but at least reasons. And we thought Trump, who seemed to have no ideological commitment to anything, wanted to repeal it because it would be a demonstration of his muscle as well as a way to unman Obama. And we may have thought that after repeal, Republicans wanted a new plan that would basically defund Medicaid to injure the poor and further enrich the wealthy with the billions of dollars in proceeds. In short, we may have thought there was some vaguely coherent direction to the anti-Obamacare enterprise.

What we didn’t realize going in is that not only was Trump totally clueless about the substance of the bill, apparently looking only for a victory, any victory, to claim, but also that Republicans, for all their professions of having been hatching a conservative alternative to Obamacare for seven years, had no plan at all — and, I would submit, no real desire for one.

They couldn’t have done more to sabotage their bill if they had tried, and I have a sneaking suspicion that is exactly what they were doing, some subconsciously, others quite consciously. Repeal? Absolutely. Replace? Not so much. The attempted Trump/Republican alliance, then, was a case of one anarchist making common cause with a whole gaggle of anarchists, neither of whom had the slightest interest in reforming health care, only in creating disorder and then hoping to benefit from it, both politically and financially. It shouldn’t have come as any surprise what the outcome would be. Anarchists don’t work well together.

Just think about it for a moment. The Republican replacement was really a non-insurance bill, by which I mean it flew in the face of the most fundamental principle of insurance — the healthy pay for those who aren’t. It is the sort of community of interest that is anathema to conservatives who believe it is every man for himself.

The upshot is that you cannot have “conservative” insurance. It isn’t tenable. When you have freedom of choice with every person getting to choose whether to be insured or not, and with those who are insured getting to choose what they want to have covered, you do not have a viable insurance system. You have anarchy. Anarchy was built right into the Republican plan.

And that is the other thing I think a lot of pundits and political observers missed over the past eight years and even longer. Republicans never had a viable plan, not just about health care, but about anything, be it tax reform or energy or education. That is why their only remedies are less regulation and more tax cuts.

There is a good reason for this, and it isn’t incompetence, though there is plenty of that, too. Republicans may talk tough. They may tout the idea of conservative, market-driven solutions to our problems, but somehow, serious solutions never get presented because, frankly, Republicans don’t have any interest in them.

When you come down to it, Republicans are really anarchists dedicated to undermining government in the furtherance of an economic state of nature where the rich rule. What we saw these past few weeks was not the failure of Republicanism, as so many pronounced on Friday, but its logical and inevitable conclusion. Republicans are great at opposing things, destroying things, obstructing things, undoing things. They are really, really terrible at creating things because they have no desire to do so.

And now they have an anarchist-in-chief, someone who shares their government phobia, if not their conviction, and whose real crime in Republicans’ eyes wasn’t that he couldn’t secure the passage of a bill, but that he managed to reveal their mess in full public view. As New York Times columnist Maureen Dowd wrote in an open letter to Trump this past Sunday, “It took W. years to smash everything. You’re way ahead of schedule.”

There is, however, a method to this madness. Anarchism isn’t nihilism. By undoing government, anarchism undoes the only protection most Americans have against the depredations of the Trumps of this world and against the often cruel vicissitudes of life, like health crises. Take away government, and you strip away those protections. But take away government, and you also enable Trump and his fellow plutocrats to further enrich themselves because there would no mechanism to stop them. This has long been the Republican way: greed disguised as a fear of government overreach. Joker Trump and his Republican cronies are bent on deconstructing government to leave the rest of us defenseless against them.

Where that leaves us is a coming flurry of legislative activity that will almost certainly amount to nothing. And it won’t be because of some civil war within the GOP. It will be because the GOP, our very own anarchist party, really doesn’t want anything to happen.

Again, Republicans and their presidential anarchist ally can undo things, as they have done with environmental protection. And that is surely no small matter. But tax reform? Forget it. No reform, just huge tax cuts for the wealthy. Infrastructure spending? Not a chance. Another go at health care reform? Yeah, sure. No action, no sweat. Anarchy is their policy.

So, no, we are not barreling toward fascism. Fascism requires a program and unity of purpose. We are instead careening toward the first industrialized state of anarchy. Trump promised to blow things up; now he has. The question is whether anyone can put America back together after he and the Republicans are finished with it.

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