#i was sure it would be the third ascension when my friend told me about it

[hydrachea]

NOBBU SCALE FIGURE NOBBU SCALE FIGURE NOBBU SCALE FIGURE

[robininthelabyrinth]

extra 1 for Tedious Joys, with thanks to all the suggestions from people engaged in the discussion on tumblr, your ideas were fantastic and I used all that I could fit in!

-

Before Lan Qiren left to attend the first discussion conference held after Nie Mingjue’s ascension to the position of Nie sect leader – a notion that still gave Lan Qiren a stomachache merely to think of it – Lao Nie made him promise three times over that he would keep an eye on his painfully earnest, straightforward eldest son and keep him from doing anything foolish.

“Of course I will,” Lan Qiren finally said, exasperated: any more nagging, and he was going to be late. When he’d thought to himself that he’d picked up a wife, he hadn’t really expected this part of it; if anything, he assumed he’d be the one doing the nagging. “You know perfectly well that he’s as dear to me as my nephews! I don’t know why you feel the need to even ask.”

“Your nephews have good self-control, a trait my Nie sect most definitively lacks,” Lao Nie said. “We’re all in agreement that it’s not yet time to challenge Hanhan. What if A-Jue forgets that and, I don’t know, punches him in the face?”

“He won’t,” Lan Qiren said. “He’s a good boy, your son; you’ve told him not to, so he won’t. Anyway, if it really comes to it, I won’t let him.”

Finally, Lao Nie let him leave, and Lan Qiren made his way to the Lotus Pier for the discussion conference. Nie Mingjue and his retinue had arrived shortly before he did, the circles under his eyes and the small signs of mourning he still wore making him look older than he ought to be; there was a scowl fixed on his face that did not disappear entirely even when he nodded to Lan Qiren, although it did soften a little.

Lan Qiren’s heart hurt for him. To manage an entire sect at fifteen – even with support, the pressures of it must be well-nigh unbearable, and it looked as though Nie Mingjue had started using his cultivation to get him through all the nights of missed sleep, as unwise as that approach was in the long term.

It was strange to go to the habitual meeting of the Great Sect leaders, the one they had with each other before they mixed with all the other sect leaders, and bow to Nie Mingjue as if to a peer, rather than to a junior.

Stranger still to see Wen Ruohan do the same, a mocking smile on his lips as he raised his head from the greeting.

“Sect Leader Nie,” he said, and there was almost some sense of satisfaction as he said the unfamiliar words – no one had had to use them when it was Lao Nie, of course. “I bid you welcome, as the newest member to the ranks of leadership among our Great Sects.”

Nie Mingjue did not respond with words the way he had when similar sentiments had been offered by others – no Please give me guidance here, though that was understandable given what the entire cultivation world knew he believed about Wen Ruohan – and contented himself by merely jerking his head again in a nod.

“Your father was a very involved member of our little group,” Wen Ruohan continued, and was he really going to offer Nie Mingjue his condolences for Lao Nie’s death? Propriety demanded he do so, but he’d never cared much for propriety, and given his actions it would be an offense to all sensibility. “One could hardly hope to match him in his passion and enthusiasm in all that he did. I look forward to seeing you...take his place.”

His eyes flickered over Nie Mingjue from head to toe, blatant in its unspoken unspeakable implication, even as Nie Mingjue’s eyes went round with disbelief.

A moment later, it ended up being Lan Qiren’s fist that found its way to Wen Ruohan’s face.

Luckily, Wen Ruohan found it funny - laughing at how he’d managed to break Lan sect discipline, rather than taking offense - and no war was started.

Whether that would last once Lan Qiren reported the substance of the conversation back to Lao Nie, however...

-

“You know,” Lan Qiren said, staring at the ceiling and wishing it would come down on top of him. “It’s very nice that you’re all such good friends.”

His nephews both bobbed their heads in a polite nod.

“I’m sure Mingjue and Huaisang greatly appreciate it.”

Another nod.

“However, they are now sect leader and sect heir, and we must treat them with the dignity that those positions require.”

A third nod. He was starting to wonder if they’d been replaced by dolls with loose necks.

“This is why they were assigned their very own rooms in our guest quarters, rather than spending their nights in yours.”

“Nie Huaisang will be lonely if he sleeps by himself,” Lan Wangji said, stubborn as ever. “My room is better.”

“Wangji. Yesterday, you chased Huaisang up two separate hills with your sword, sat on him, made him cry, and then wouldn’t let him up until he admitted you were superior in every respect.”

Lan Wangji smiled briefly, a rare and beautiful sight that warmed the heart. “Mm. Deserved it.”

Lan Qiren flailed a little. “Wangji, do you even like him?”

“No.”

“Then why do you care where he sleeps?”

“If he sleeps badly, he will do even worse than he already does,” Lan Wangji said. “Someone might make fun of him.”

“…and what happens then?”

“Bite.”

“Wangji! We’ve discussed this, no biting people. Not even if they’re making fun of your friend!”

Lan Wangji nodded in a way that suggested he was only being agreeable so that Lan Qiren stopped insisting on silly things like Nie Huaisang getting his own bedroom instead of sleeping on the spare bed in Lan Wangji’s and not actually agreeing in the slightest.

They were still working on the biting thing.

Giving up, Lan Qiren turned his gaze to his older nephew.

Lan Xichen squirmed. “…sometimes I go to stay in his rooms instead?”

“You’re not even planning on coming up with an excuse?”

“Lying is forbidden, uncle.”

Lan Qiren pinched the bridge of his nose.

-

“For this sort of thing, you go to your eldest uncle,” Lan Qiren said flatly, and after a moment of contemplation, Lan Wangji conceded that he had a point.

After all, Lao Nie had been married several times, presumably intentionally, whereas Lan Qiren had ended up with a wife through circumstance and luck.

Lao Nie was a very good wife, though, even if for some reason Lan Wangji was required to refer to him as eldest uncle rather than calling him aunt – though that was mostly his uncle’s preference. Lao Nie thought being called auntie was hilarious.

In retrospect, though, Lao Nie’s tendency to think things were hilarious was a lot less endearing when it was aimed at him.

“Just tell him you like him,” Lao Nie suggested, as if that wasn’t the most ridiculous Nie sect style advice possible. “Tell him you want to spend more time with him.”

Lan Wangji shook his head firmly.

“How is this Wei Wuxian supposed to figure it out, then?”

He wouldn’t. Obviously. The question was how to get rid of the feelings, not how to actually let Wei Wuxian know that they existed.

“I don’t know, I find sex works really well to deal with repressed emotions associated with pining.”

Lan Wangji wanted to die.

Or possibly find and bully Nie Huaisang the way he used to when he was a kid. Not that he would, of course, he was above that, and also Nie Huaisang was really good at getting revenge and he couldn’t risk that happening where Wei Wuxian might see.

“Sex is not a valid solution in all cases,” Lan Wangji’s uncle interjected.

“Ah, Qiren, Qiren. Are you still holding Hanhan against me?”

“Yes, I am. He tried to kill you.”

“So?” Lao Nie shrugged. “That describes basically everyone I ever slept with.”

“Have you ever considered that that may be part of your problem?”

“Don’t act like I’m the only one! Look at Wangji here; the first thing he noticed about this Wei Wuxian character was his excellent fighting skills – a moonlight duel on the rooftops, how romantic –”

“You don’t know what romance is –”

Lan Wangji was just going to go back to his unrequited pining.

It couldn’t be worse than having to listen to this argument again.

-

Lan Wangji was fighting frantically, but he already knew his sword would not be sufficient.

They were going to burn the library.

All those precious books..!

His uncle had already sent Lan Xichen away with the most important ones, but Lan Wangji didn’t want to lose any of them. These books had been his friends growing up, the source of his strength and the consolation in his loneliness – their pages bore silent witness to his childish tears, the imprints of his dirty fingerprints, the good times and the bad. There were books he had thumbed through a thousand times until he knew them down to the last idiosyncratic quiver in their calligraphy and books he had not yet acquainted himself with, had only seen on the shelves and thought one day. To lose them now, old friend and future friend alike, would be to break his heart.

There was a sound behind him and he spun, already tired, exhausted, and it was Wen Xu behind him, the leader of the invading Wen sect cultivators himself. He was smiling so cruelly, holding a fire talisman aloft like a flare, knowing that Lan Wangji wouldn’t make it in time to stop him –

A hand wrapped itself around Wen Xu’s wrist from behind, freezing the motion.

Freezing not just him, but all the Wen cultivators around him, each one of their faces twisting in horror as they realized that a cultivator dressed in astere mourning white that might be mistaken for the colors of the Lan sect had managed to get through their forces to stand at their master’s side, even if his hands were empty of any weapon.

Their horror quickly turned to agony, and then nothing at all, as the reconstituted Jiwei flew through the air, battering through their swords with overwhelming force and piercing their bodies, as vicious and free as if she were alive – there was nothing that quite compared to the Nie sect’s fierce sabers when unleashed at the beck and call of their masters, a weapon against which regular spiritual weapons had difficulty holding up.

With their bodies fell their fire talismans, their flares, and suddenly Lan Wangji felt hope thudding in his chest: one man could not change the tide of war, but he could change the course of a single battle, especially if he could convince Wen Xu to order a retreat.

If Wen Xu ordered a retreat now –

The library would survive.

“Tell Hanhan that Lao Nie said ‘hello’,” Lao Nie said in Wen Xu’s ear – his face was as pale as a ghost in the fire and moonlight, his lips red as blood and his smile full of viciousness like a slash across his face –and with a single twist he snapped the bone of Wen Xu’s wrist.

-

“It really isn’t me!” Wei Wuxian protested. “For one thing, didn’t the sightings of old Sect Leader Nie start before I took up demonic cultivation?”

“I don’t think it was you that did it,” Nie Mingjue said, not for the first time. His eyes kept flickering around the room as if seeking help, and his expression, to those that did not know him well, was stormy; Wei Wuxian saw this and clearly panicked, continuing to try to explain.

To those that did know Nie Mingjue well, it was immediately obvious that he was trying very hard not to laugh.

Lan Xichen sympathized.

It wasn’t Wei Wuxian’s fault that it served their purposes for the moment to have it be thought that Lao Nie was a spectre arisen from his grave in search of personal vengeance on Wen Ruohan – it was certainly causing Wen Ruohan no end of agony, judging by the way his strategy got a lot less rational and a lot more frenzied whenever Lao Nie put in an appearance – and if he was even slightly more discreet a personality, they would have simply brought him in on the secret already.

They were planning to – Lan Wangji had insisted, looking pained on his secret beloved’s behalf (secret in the sense that Wei Wuxian didn’t know about it, not secret in the sense that everyone else in their small family knew about it) – but they hadn’t had a chance. Lao Nie had insisted on being there to make things clear, since apparently he’d accidentally-on-purpose bumped into Wei Wuxian a few times in the Cloud Recesses while masquerading as a Lan sect elder so that he could evaluate his nephew-by-proxy’s crush, and he hadn’t yet arrived.

Which led to the current situation of Wei Wuxian being earnest and Nie Mingjue attempting to send mental smoke signals to Nie Huaisang in an effort to have the latter rescue him.

To no one’s surprise, Nie Huaisang was being no help at all.

In fact, his occasional well-timed sobs of “Wei-xiong! I thought we were friends! My father’s corpse! How could you?!” were in fact making things notably worse.

“I didn’t! I really didn’t!” Wei Wuxian yowled.

Lan Xichen was not going to laugh.

He wasn’t.

-

“And who’s to say the Yiling Patriarch won’t try to take charge of the Nie sect, too..?”

“Well, for one thing, I’m actually alive,” Lao Nie said loudly, and Lan Xichen flinched at first before relaxing. He’d forgotten, somehow, that Lao Nie had been the most shameless member of the last generation; it was no surprise that he, who could be as blunt as his son when he wanted to be, would address the whispered rumors drifting around them directly and without pretense. “Wei Wuxian may be a demonic cultivator who created a conscious fierce corpse, but no one has yet suggested with any plausibility that his abilities extend to living people who were just in hiding – which is a good thing, given how many people here would fall into that categorization.”

There was an awkward silence.

Sect Leader Jin coughed. “No one is suggesting that you’re Wei Wuxian’s puppet, Lao Nie,” he said, even though someone had very clearly been suggesting exactly that and if anyone believed that they had done so within Sect Leader Jin’s home without his knowledge then Lan Xichen was worried about what else they’d be willing to believe. “We’re merely expressing concern regarding his increasingly reckless actions – and on behalf of the Wen sect, no less! Especially with him having custody of such a powerful tool as the Tiger Seal, it is a little suspicious…”

“Wait, are you suggesting that you think Wei Wuxian has been possessed?” Lao Nie said. “By Hanhan? That’s ridiculous; they’re nothing alike. Wei Wuxian attended the hunt at Phoenix Mountain and didn’t hit on me once, there’s no way Hanhan is possessing him.”

Sect Leader Jin’s eye twitched.

Lan Xichen did not smile, but it was a challenge. Truly there was no one quite like Lao Nie when he was in full swing.

“Still, if people are having that sort of nonsense float around, I think it makes perfect sense for me to go check up on him to see how he’s doing,” Lao Nie continued. “I’m a respected member of the previous generation, and no one knows Hanhan better than me. Better still, I’ll take Qiren with me; we’ll make a holiday of it – it’s the least we deserve, really, now that we’re both retired sect leaders.”

“I suppose it would be more appropriate to send someone removed from active politics,” Lan Qiren said, voice a little toneless and neutral as always. “That would allow us to avoid any unfortunate implications that other sects were seeking to utilize the bad reputation of demonic cultivation to extract the Tiger Seal for their own purposes.”

Lan Xichen’s uncle was a renowned teacher, but equally well known for his inability to read the subtle nuances in social situations – no one else could have gotten away with just saying that when everyone was painfully aware that it was the subtext of Sect Leader Jin’s actions.

Though, actually, it was possible his uncle just hadn’t realized it was, in fact, meant to be subtext.

“I think that makes perfect sense,” Lan Xichen interjected before Sect Leader Jin – or Jin Guangyao, for that matter – could say anything. His sworn brother had never entirely forgiven Lao Nie for showing up at the last possible moment to murder Wen Ruohan personally before he could claim his head himself, even though the fame he had won for being their spy had still been sufficient to get him a spot in the Jin family, and as a result he was inclined to use his clever tongue to oppose Lao Nie just because he could. “Sect Leader Jiang, Wei Wuxian is a member of your sect, and therefore you have primary charge of him. Would you be willing to take Lao Nie and my uncle with you when you go to see him to act as impartial judges?”

“But I don’t want to be a third wheel on their old people sex honeymoon!” Jiang Cheng blurted out.

There was another moment of silence, and then Lao Nie burst out in howling laughter.

Nie Mingjue followed suit only an instant behind him, and of course once Nie Mingjue was laughing then there was no hope for Lan Xichen; he’d never been able to resist Nie Mingjue’s laughter, so rare after he’d become sect leader. Within moments, the tense atmosphere Sect Leader Jin had so carefully cultivated had been utterly shattered and the entire room was sobbing with hilarity, excluding only Lan Qiren who was scowling at all of them and Lan Wangji whose laughter was entirely in the way his eyes were crinkled in the corners.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” Lan Qiren said icily as his former student cowered in front of him. “I will have you know that Lao Nie and I are not in a sexual relationship –”  

“Wait, you’re not?” Sect Leader Jin blurted out, clearly despite himself, and that just set the whole room off again.

-

“Welcome to the Unclean Realm,” Lao Nie said.

“Since when do former sect leaders act to greet people at the door?” Wei Wuxian said, grinning at him: they had gotten on splendidly ever since the whole ‘did I resurrect you from the dead by accident’ question had resolved, and Lao Nie helping him out of the tough spot with the Wen sect by arranging his marriage to Lan Wangji had sealed his approval of him forever.

That was why he was arriving with the Lan sect delegation, after all, although Jiang Cheng had kicked his heels around at the entrance in order to ambush him – he wanted to ask some questions about Jiang Yanli’s upcoming wedding plans – and of course the Jin sect had gotten suspicious that they were up to something and waited as well so they were now coming in as one big group.

At least it gave Lan Xichen some time to chat with Jin Guangyao, who seemed much happier to be spending time away from the rest of his family; based on what he’d overheard of their conversation, they were scheming to get Nie Mingjue to relax a bit more and let his father temporarily take up sect leader duties again now that he and Lan Qiren were spending half the year at the Unclean Realm.  

“I’m on punishment duty,” Lao Nie said, looking delighted by it.

Which, hey, seemed weird, but based on everything Lan Wangji had told him about the former sect leader Nie (and his own mysterious ‘eldest uncle’, as he’d been known while he was at the Lan sect) and his former exploits, it seemed very in character for the man. And, well, Wei Wuxian wasn’t really in any position to throw stones…

“Eldest Uncle,” Lan Xichen said, looking over. “Did you do something to irritate Uncle again?”

“I didn’t! It was something different, actually, which I’m not at liberty to disclose to you.”

Oh, now Wei Wuxian was curious, and so was everyone else – Jiang Cheng sent him a ‘you don’t have shame, why don’t you ask’ sort of look at once – and since he did not, in fact, have shame, he asked, “Are you sure? What could it possibly be that you did?”

“Oh, Xiao Nie knows what he did,” an old woman in Nie sect colors said as she passed by. “And he’s going to stand there until he admits that he was wrong.”

“I’ll be here until I collapse,” Lao Nie explained proudly, but by that point everyone had stopped caring about whatever new thing he’d done in light of the newest twist.

“Did she just call you Xiao Nie?” Jiang Cheng said, sounding betrayed.

“…yes? She’s my great-grandaunt, she can call me anything she likes?”

“It’s just wrong,” Wei Wuxian agreed. “Isn’t it just wrong?”

“It is a bit wrong,” Jin Zixuan said, looking perturbed.

“Very wrong, even,” Lan Xichen said. “I didn’t know anyone did that.”

“No one does,” Lao Nie said. “Now stop gossiping and go inside already!”

“They say married couples start to act like each other,” Wei Wuxian said to Lan Wangji, who looked amused. “There really seems to be some truth to it – do you think he’ll start reciting Lan sect rules next? Ooh, or musical cultivation?”

Finding out that Lan Qiren was apparently the musical cultivation equivalent of a mad scientist in his spare time had been the happiest moment in Wei Wuxian’s life.

“Just wait until you see what Uncle is like when he’s drunk,” Lan Wangji said, and stop. What?

That was a thing?

Wei Wuxian had to make that happen right away.

[hopeled]

Fate/Grand Order Dialogue Meme

Repost, don’t reblog!

SUMMON:

" Huh. Well, isn’t this a strange turn of events? Never thought it’d end up like this......ah! Right, I forgot: introductions! Forgive me. Fujimaru Ritsuka-- yep, the very same one. Ha, you look surprised! Me too, but don’t worry. I’ll make sure you make it out of this in one piece. “

LEVELING UP:

Level up – “ So this is what it feels like.....Arturia was right. They could use more flavor.” First Ascension – “ Outfit change is a go! Kinda like those old superhero movies, but much more efficient. What do you think? Pretty cool, huh? “ Second Ascension -- ” You think if I ask da Vinci-chan, she’ll let us put in a system that plays the level up noise whenever this happens? No? What do you mean it’s pointless?!”  Third Ascension – “ Mmm. I used to always doubt what I could do to help, but I will not let this be a waste. ” Final Ascension – “ I told you from the start I would make sure you came out of this in one piece. I intend to keep that promise and like this, I can. So thank you for believing in me like this. Everything that I am is yours. ”

BATTLE

Battle Start – “ Let’s go, Master.” Skill 1 – “ Don’t get cocky.” Skill 2 –  (imitating a Servant’s laugh) “  Hm? Too much? Sorry....” Skill 3 --  “ Playtime is over!” Attack Select 1 – “Gotcha.” Attack Select 2 – “You better keep your eyes wide open!” Attack Select 3 – “ I see.” Extra Attack – “Did you think I was finished?” Noble Phantasm Selected – “ So it’s come to this...” Noble Phantasm Deployed – “ Humanity must bear sorrow and tears, but still they struggle towards the sky. No matter far we travel, that is our guiding hope. For their promise of tomorrow, your end will be here. Don’t worry....for even this ending will be beautiful. ” (Anti-World, AOE: Apply Ignore Invincible to self (3 turns, activates first), deals increased damage against [Threat to Humanity] enemies (1 turn, activates first),  inflicts heavy defense ignoring damage & lowers defense (3 turns) to all enemies and applies debuff immunity to self ( 5 turns) ) Regular Damage – “Hngh--.” Damage from Noble Phantasm – “Dammit--” Defeat 1 – “Ah....so it’s like this....but.....” Defeat 2 – “Don’t think.....this means you’ve won-!- ” Battle Finish 1 – “  Come on, time for food! ” Battle Finish 2 – “ I wonder.....would you be proud....?”

MY ROOM

Bond Level 1 – "No, I’m not hiding! I just....I’m not sure how the others will handle it if I just walk out like ‘ Hey, guess who’s back!’ without warning. ” Bond Level 2 – “ Come on, let’s talk. No, not about me but you. Ah, you wanna know something first? Alright then.  Don’t let any stories fool you-- I was nothing special when I was a Master....and I was always afraid. “ Bond Level 3 – “ I never thought I was Servant material, nor did I really want history to remember me for obvious reasons. Despite doing all I did....I always wondered: would it work? Would things go back to normal? But I had to try, at the very least.” Bond Level 4 – “ You want to know how it happened? To be honest I....can’t really remember the details. I don’t know if that’s the Throne’s interference or something else but maybe it’s better that way.  ” Bond Level 5 – “ I think I finally understand now....why so many did what they did for me. The path you’re on isn’t a cruel one. It will hurt you and try to break you and push you beyond your limits. It’s merciless, saving the world. You’re giving everything to it. But when you’re on your knees and wondering how you can keep going on like this, don’t worry. You’ll find your resolve in that moment and you will get back up. How do I know this? Because I was you, once. You don’t have to say anything because I know. And I promise I will be there with you, every step of the way. Both as your Servant and as your friend. And if you can’t find the strength to, I’ll carry you until you do. Your burdens are mine as well-- don’t forget that.”

Dialogue 1 – “I think it’s taking everyone some getting used to....seeing me like this. I can see that look in their eyes everytime I’m around.” Dialogue 2 – “ Come on, lay down. It’s rare to get free time around here, what with everything going on. So sleep. Hm? Oh, don’t worry! I know a few good spots where you won’t be disturbed and even then, I’ll make sure you get your rest. ” Something you like – “ My likes? Food! And napping, but Servants don’t need sleep huh.....I also enjoy origami. Sometimes, the Casters will animate the little creations for the children Servants....it’s nice, seeing them laugh. ” Something you dislike – “ Ha.....that’s too long of a list, you know? But I’ll go with something less serious-- I would not mind if cherry tomatoes were obliterated from existence. I don’t like their smug aura....it mocks me.” About the Holy Grail – “ The Holy Grail....I won’t lie, it’s tempting. But I don’t want it. I’d rather accomplish something with my own hands.” During an event – “Well, what are you waiting for? Go! Have some fun!” Birthday – “I know this probably isn’t how you expected to celebrate your birthday, but....it’s not a bad thing. Go on-- I’m sure Emiya has made the best cake you could ever hope for. Enjoy it while it lasts because if not I can finish it for you! Hey, don’t make that face, I was joking!”

[themonotonysyndrome]

Our Intertwine Dream

Another oneshot about Papa Lilia and Malleus with their human teenage son, Silver! I think I’m gonna turn this and the previous oneshot into a series while I’m still having fun writing ‘em and yeah, even if it’s a little late, I wanted to do something to celebrate Silver’s birthday. 

-

“Such a fair and gentle child you are. Quiet too.”

“...”

“My, my what a big yawn that was! Is it nap time already?”

“...”

“...How curious.”

“There you are, grandmother. Lilia said that it’s Silver’s feeding time now.” 

“Oh dear. The little one went out like a candle’s flame. Poor thing must be tired from playing.”

“Silver just woke up three hours ago.”

“Is that so? Say, Malleus dear, how about you and that Fae of yours stay in the castle for a couple more days. I would like to... investigate something.” 

“As you wish, grandmother...”

-

Silver wakes up when he heard his phone vibrated. Blinking a couple of time, he then rubs his crusty eyelids blearily before pushing himself up from the soft bed and sigh deeply. Dawn has made way for bright, morning rays to creep into his room despite the thick curtains.

When his phone on the bedside table vibrate again, Silver snatch it to check his text messages. 

Like any other day, Lilia’s attempt to wake him up for classes is by spamming his phone with a series of pictures that he find interesting or funny. Before, the Fae used to called his phone and sometimes even break through the door when he quickly realised that Silver would actively ignore the calls, but the few success that Lilia managed to get him out of the bed, Silver still ended up sleeping with his face planted inside a bowl of cereal. In the end, practically every one in Diasomnia knew that Silver will wake up whenever he can and the teaching staff of the school allows a little leeway because of his conditions. 

Today, Lilia is spamming his phone with pictures of Savanaclaws’ First Years students chasing each other on the field. Behind them, the sun made its slow ascension to the sky. 

Silver threw his phone on the bed and begin to get ready for the day. If he hurries, he can still make it to breakfast. Freshly showered and donning his uniform, he quickly check that he has his phone, magic crystal and wallet before leaving the dorm. The younger students loitering about the hallway and common room greet him good morning as he head towards the cafeteria.  “Who was that?” “That’s Silver-senpai. A Second Year student. He’s the one I told you about last week. You know, the senior that tutored me and the guys for History of Magic?” “The one that took a nap halfway?”

“Oh, Silver-senpai is always like that. I heard that he can sleep anywhere! But he’s really good at History of Magic though. I even got an A for my test!” 

Silver lets out a yawn as the conversation fades behind him. He had tried his best to stay awake during that tutoring session but the table looked as soft as his bed and before he knew it, the words on his text book look like worms and he blacked out. 

It was nice for the First Years to called Lilia when he was knocked out though. 

Today, the halls of Night Raven College are relatively peaceful. Friends huddled at the courtyard, taking pictures and laughing amongst themselves. A couple of Scarabia students are mingling with two Ignihyde seniors with their laptops out; probably a tutoring session. A Pomefiore student is humming to himself as he pick fresh flowers near the water fountain and a pair of Heartslabyul and Octavinelle students are playing cards; most likely UNO because one of the Heartslabyul student suddenly shrieked, “WHY DON’T I HAVE ANY GREEN!? YOU GUYS ARE CHEATING!” 

“Oh! Good morning, Silver-senpai!” Yuu suddenly greeted Silver just as he was about to enter the cafeteria. Behind the younger boy, he could smell fresh baked breads and strong black coffee wafting in the air. The smell is so strong that it’s probably enough to keep him awake for a whole day. “It’s rare to see you up so early!”

“I managed to wake up on time for once.” Silver reply with a shrug. “Might as well catch up on some classes that I’m lagging behind.” Sebek would scold his ears off if he caught Silver slacking in class, ever. Something about bringing shame and disgrace to Malleus and Lilia and honestly, Silver tends to tune out whenever Sebek started to rant about how great his parents are. 

“That sounds like a great idea Silver-senpai! I’m sure you’ll do well.” Yuu said with a cheer. For some reason, the boy is completely alone; no Grim or those two First Year Heartslabyul students that constantly flank his sides. Unaware of Silver’s musing, Yuu continue, “Anyway, I just saw Lilia-senpai and the others at the table near the hot drink section.” 

“Oh. Thanks. Guess I’ll see you around - ” Silver begins but then Yuu’s eyes suddenly blow wide and before Silver could ask what’s wrong, Yuu hurriedly interrupts him. 

“Ok, nice talking to you Silver-senpai, gotta go to class now! If anyone asks, I’m not here, ok? Bye-bye!” Yuu then ran off without even looking at him. Leaving Silver to stand alone awkwardly in front of the cafeteria’s entrance. 

“Well... that was something - ”

“Oh? If it isn’t Silver-san.”

“What a rare sight to see Jellyfish-san floating in the morning!”

The Leech brothers are smiling widely when Silver slowly turn around. It didn’t escape his notice that, Azul is not with them. Floyd tilts his head - rows of sharp teeth pokes out - and ask, “Say... you don’t happen to see our cute Shrimp-kun, have you?” 

“No.” Silver easily fibbed. Whatever is going on with the Leech brothers and Yuu (and probably Azul) is none of his concern. He decided to leave the twins be when they stare at him with an odd expression; as if trying to decide whether he’s lying or not. True to Yuu’s words, Silver easily spotted Lilia and the rest of their group when he zooms in on the drinks table. Sebek is furiously muttering to himself as he reads a textbook; pages constantly flipping. Lilia is checking his phone with a content smile and beside him, Malleus is diligently cutting his veggie omelette into small pieces. Plates of cold cut fruits, bread and pancakes along with juices and a cup of coffee for Lilia are spread on the table. 

The three of them occupy the large dining table despite how crowded the cafeteria is. 

“Good morning.” Silver greeted the group before taking a seat beside Sebek.

“Silver! You’re awake! Did Mr.Trein’s cat pictures woke you up?” Lilia teases. He tucks away the phone to cupped his face and grin lazily at him. 

“Had a weird dream.” Silver reply and made sure to thank Malleus when the Fae handed him the cut up omelette and a tall glass of orange juice before resuming his own breakfast. He waste no time and dig in. 

“Oh? What was it about?” 

“The face is a bit fuzzy but I was sitting on someone’s lap at a... garden, I think. She had a nice voice.” He said after sipping on his OJ. “It ended when I heard Malleus-sama’s voice.” 

Sebek jerk his head away from the textbook at that. Before he could demand what Silver meant, Lilia interjects with a hum. 

“That sounds too... normal to be a dream. More like a - ”

“A memory.”

Malleus put aside his napkin when the three of them turn their attention to him. He stares at Silver with a thoughtful expression. “It was a summer morning. I came to the garden when Lilia told me that you were with grandmother for the day.” 

Sebek is now in sheer awe - like usual when it’s anything related to Malleus - while Silver’s cheeks are dusted red as Lilia laugh, clutching his stomach in delight. “I remember that summer! It was Silver’s first time visiting the Castle of Thorns. You were such an adorable little one that Malleus’ grandmother insisted that we extended our stay.” Lilia then sigh fondly. “That was a nice summer...” 

And... there Lilia goes, off reminiscing Silver’s childhood. Silver quickly put a stop to it with an embarrassed cough. Lilia merely teases him some more in retaliation. Breakfast continues on until Sebek suggest they head to their respective classes now. Lilia and Malleus had P.E, Sebek went to join a crowd of First Year students drifting upstairs to the second floor; leaving Silver with his Alchemy class. 

He allows himself to be pull along by a couple of his classmates when they notice him rounding the corner. Silver finds it easy to join their conversation since it was about homework and soon enough, they chatted their way to the classroom. 

Mid conversation, Silver yawns. When he rub his watery eyes, something bright red accompany by a smile flash pass him. So quick and sudden, almost like a ribbon - 

“Silver-san?” One of his classmates call out when they notice that Silver had suddenly stop walking with them. “Is something wrong?” 

Silver blink; realise that he had automatically whip around to catch that flash of red but after looking at his sides, students in familiar uniform are mingling around him. No one stood out of the ordinary. 

“Just thought I saw something...” Silver slowly admits. There’s something nibbling at the back of his mind but it refuses to surface despite how hard Silver tries to remember. 

Classes passed through the day without a hitch. Silver finds himself staying awake for all of them that a surprised teacher even commented about it. When homeworks are done with enough time to spare before dinner, he wonder what the others are doing right now. Putting away his books and pencil case into his bookbag, Silver left his room for the dorm’s lounge. Usually Sebek is there around this time and they would bicker and wait for Lilia and Malleus to show up so they could have dinner together. 

But when he reaches the ground floor, Silver is surprise that Sebek is nowhere in sight. Perhaps he’s with his other group of friends? 

He looks around the lounge thinking that Sebek might be hiding behind the book shelves or something, yet only some Third Year students are relaxing on the couch; talking quietly amongst themselves. From the foot of the stairs, a few students walk down behind him. 

“ - did you see Vil-senpai’s new MagiCam post?” 

“The one on tips for short hairstyles? Oh! Is that why you tied up your hair differently after P.E?” 

“What do you think? I’m digging this new look!” 

“Well... at least people know that you actually have eyes now.” 

“Wa - did my bangs really covered my face that badly!? Why did no tell me before?!?”

The chatters gradually fade into background noises when Silver caught an unusual scent lingering behind him; a scent that makes him heady and eyes drowsy, almost instantly. It carries a subtle smell of smokey cedarwood, and blooming tuberoses that remind Silver of hot, creamy crème brûlée that melts on your tongue. 

But the magnetic scent immediately vanishes the moment Silver turn around to chase after it, frantically searching which student wore the cologne. 

“There you are, human! Don’t you know that you’re keeping Malleus-sama and Lilia-sama waiting!?” 

“Sebek?” 

Sebek appear at the entrance of their dorm wearing an unamused expression, hands firmly on his hips. When did he arrive? 

He roll his eyes when Silver continue to stare at him in stupor. “Well? Are you coming or not?” 

Silver shut his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose. Shaking his head once, it took a while for him orientate himself. “Right. Let’s go.” 

Sebek didn’t question his terse’s reply as they walk towards the cafeteria, thinking that the Second Year student is in one of his moods again. He did throw an odd glance whenever Silver turn around as if he’s looking for someone or something. 

Later when the night grows long and the Diasomnia dorm is silent, Silver lies wide awake; staring listlessly at his bedroom ceiling in the dark. Scrolling through his phone did nothing to tire him out nor did reading boring textbooks help. 

Although, Flyod’s weird MagiCam post of him in a selfie with a happy Jade sitting prim and proper on Azul’s bed and Yuu’s black hair poking from underneath the duvet in the background was... something.

With a huff, Silver twist and turn underneath the duvet before closing his eyes in hopes that he could finally settle in for the night. 

Time seem to creep on before exhaustion claims him and Silver finally falls asleep. 

When he open his eyes, Silver found himself sitting on a picnic blanket. Soft morning rays shine through the tall tree above him. He notices small, bite-size food that are for children are laid out for him on a paper plate. A picnic basket is put aside near the tree’s roots, lacqured boxes of food were placed on the centre of the blanket and an uncapped thermos of hot tea is ready for anyone who wants to drink. 

He also notice that he was sitting on someone’s lap. 

“Oh? Are you finally hungry?” Silver tips his head back to see Lilia smiling down at him. His arms move around his small body to encase Silver in a hug. It was then he realise that he’s in a child’s body. 

“Here. Want some apples? It’s yummy!” Lilia coo as he tries to entice Silver to eat the sliced fruit by wagging it in front of him. 

“Maybe we should try some oranges again?” Malleus suggest, awkwardly holding a whole, round orange in one hand as he inspect it with uncertain, knitted eyebrows. 

“I rather not have him throw them at my hair again, Malleus.” Lilia sighs and put down the sliced apple when he no longer had Silver’s attention. 

As the Faes discuss on how to get him to eat, Silver understand that he’s reliving one of his childhood memories. Sure enough, he could easily spot the castle that belongs to Malleus’ grandmother looming behind the sea of trees.

This is the first time that Silver is consciously aware that he’s dreaming. It feels so surreal being able to coherently think like an adult but posses the speech capability of a seven year old. He grunts and whine to show his displeasure when it’s beginning to feel too warm in Lilia’s embrace. 

“Alright, alright, little man. Stop squirming for a moment...” Lilia neated Silver’s little clothes before finally release him onto the soft grass so he could play. “There! Hopefully you’re tire yourself out until you actually want lunch.” 

“...Is feeding a human child always this difficult?” Malleus couldn’t help but ask when he watch Silver wobble around, looking at everything and anything. 

“You know what? I don’t know.” Lilia admits though he didn’t sound all that concern. He knows that Silver will eat when his little tummy rumble soon enough. “I heard that some kids from a human village can be fussy when it comes to food. Silver might be one of those type.” He hums and tap his chin as he recalls their last meal time. “Then again, I heard that human kids loathe vegetables but Silver enjoyed eating your salad during dinner.” 

The Faes continue to talk while occasionaly keep an eye out on little Silver who is critically inspecting a wild patch of daisies. 

Back to Silver, he internally wonders why he’s reliving this particular memory. He tries to remember what else this memory entail when something pull him away from the flowers. 

That strange scent - cedarwood and crème brûlée - slips around him, thoroughly capture his attention in an instant and deafen him from Lilia and Malleus’s conversation. It envelopes his world that even the sunlight starts to dim when his eyes grows heavy. 

And before he realises it, Silver’s little legs begin to carry him towards the forest. Where the scent seem to be. 

The deeper Silver travese into the forest, the world around him begin to grow dark, as if the tall trees are blocking out the sun. Even the crickets and chirping birds are silenced the longer he walk and yet, he still couldn’t find the scource of that smell! 

“...er?”

Silver pauses. What was that? It sounded like - 

“...ver?”

He wanted to turn around, to move his arms but no matter how hard he tries, Silver stands there, frozen stiff as a statue. 

“...Silver?”

The scent is slightly stronger now. It smells so sweet, so comforting as if beckoning him forward and his legs begin to move again. 

A hand shoot out from the dark to gently grab his shoulder from behind. A familiar voice chimes in, “There you are Silver! I was beginning to worry, little one.” It’s Lilia. It’s Papa. His touch is like an anchor, bringing him back to a sense of safety and familiarity that Silver could sob in relief. “Come on now; it’s time to wake up, love.” 

At that moment, Silver jerks up; eyes wide awake and his heart racing. His room is so bright and warm that he had to squint his eyes a little to adjust his vision when he notice a silhouette that vaguely resemble Lilia sitting on his bed.

“Hang on, let me draw the curtains.” When the room is a little darken, Silver rubs his weary eyes and find that it’s indeed Lilia; his coat uniform and cap drape over the bed. For some reason, he’s studying Silver with a complicated expression; lips pursed and eyebrows knitted in worry. 

“W-What? Silver croak, hating how parched his throat feels. 

“How are you feeling?” Lilia asks immediately. He hovers close to Silver, cupping his clammy face with bare hands as he checks for... something. 

Silver lets the question sinks in for moment. “...Tired.” He admits with a sigh. His heart finally calms down when he leans into Lilia’s touch, eyes heavy but this time, he just wants to bask in Lilia’s warmth. 

Lilia bits his lower lip and slowly withdraw his hands before taking a sit on the bed. “What was the last thing that you did? Did you drunk any funny potion before bed?” 

“What? The last thing I did?” Silver repeated, a little lost but answer him nonetheless, “After dinner, I couldn’t sleep so I tried to bored myself by reading and when that didn’t work, I went to bed. I managed to fell sleep soon enough.” He explains and uneasiness churns in the pit of his stomach when Lilia still look at him strangely. 

He had never seen Lilia wear such expression before. 

“Silver... you’ve been asleep for four days.” 

The ancient Fae’s tentative announcement made Silver’s heart drop like a heavy lead. “...What?” 

“Calm down. Hey, can you look at me, Silver?” Lilia’s voice drops to soothing when he sees the far off look in Silver’s eyes. He holds both of the teenager’s hands when he heard Silver’s breath hitches. He continue to grip on them even when Silver meets his gaze. “It’s alright; you’re awake now and that’s what important. Can you remember if you’ve been dreaming or...”

“We were having a picnic back when I was a child. It’s somewhere behind the Witch’s castle - ”

“I remember that.” Lilia assure him calmly. He only spoke like that to Silver whenever he was spooked but it’s been years since the Fae spoke in such tone now that he’s all grown up. “You were such a curious child. You insist on wanting to pick wild flowers when we’re supposed to have lunch.” 

Wait - 

“...What happened next?”

“You plucked a bunch of daisies and gave them to me and Malleus; dirt and all. You looked so proud despite that you made a mess on the picnic blanket that I scooped you into my arms and we cuddled until you tried to gnaw on my hair.” Lilia laughs softly. “You were so attracted to my hair because of the colours that I had to buy you a black and pink teddy bear for you to obssessed on. Do you remember that?”

No. Silver doesn’t remember any of that... 

And that frightens him.  

“Silver? Talk to me; what are you thinking about?” Lilia pleads when instead of a flustered Silver like he’s hoping, his son in all but blood pales. 

Despite the warm morning, chill runs down Silver’s spine when he said in a detached tone, “I... I think I had a nightmare, but... I can’t remember of what.”

[othercat2]

Jam: Egg fic with worldbuilding but no title 1/?

So this is a thing I’ve been putting up on the homestuck gang discord. I decided to play with the “oviparous trolls” au thing. As you do. As usual, I have no idea of what I’m doing, and there’s a lot of worldbuilding.

_________________________

He's fussing (he is not fussing this is his first clutch okay) with the temperature controls of the incubator. Four eggs was  a reasonable sized first clutch and they were all on the small end. (But perfectly acceptable Zahhak!) Karkat snapped pictures of the speckled eggs and sent them to their genetors with his usual message of "red and blue slurry still does not make purple grubs." In honor of some of the most idiotic questions he'd  been asked by someone supposedly not a subadult. (Zahhak was lucky his matesprit put up with him.)

After egg coddling was breakfast and waiting for his attendant to arrive with his schedule. (And check his work.  Fucking up temps for a clutch could alter their projected caste or render them nonviable.) Karkat was hoping Kanaya was going to be bringing him good news from the medics; he's been on rest for what feels like forever and wants to get back to his work out. He checks the news feeds and catches up to social media. He also does a lot of shit talking at various internet hate friends. He's  doing some online shopping when Kanaya turns up. He's about to offer her a muffin and some coffee but...

"Kanaya are you okay?" She did not look okay.  "The Cavern Matre called me into her office," Kanaya says in a numb little voice. "Something terrible has happened."

Karkat felt a little thrill of panic at that. "Did something happen to my genitors?" He asked. “Zahhak doesn't  message too often but usually I'm exchanging stupid smilies and emojis with Megido by now."

Kanaya shook her head. "No this is something else. Worse."

"Worse?" Karkat asks. Kanaya nods. "The other attendants are speaking to their genetrices," she says.

"The Matres felt this would be better than simply announcing this during assembly."

"Announce what Kanaya?" Karkat asks.

Kanaya takes a breath. "Despite the strictest security measures we've discovered there's been trafficking of a genetrix bloodline."

"Holy shitfuck." It was easy to see why it hadn't been announced during assembly there would have been a fucking riot. "How?" Cavern security by necessity was tight for the very purpose of preventing kidnappings. Genetrices were trained to fight or take more extreme measures if taken. The punishments for attempting a kidnapping were gruesome.

"We don't  have all the details yet. The Church hasn't been very forthcoming."

"Of course. Mother Grub forbid they give a full report to the ones it's  relevant to." Kanaya gives him a look of reproof. Or tries to. Karkat's pretty good at staring her down.

"I'm sure we'll know more soon. There could be a reason behind the with held information."

Karkat did not agree but also didn't  want to argue. The reproductive and attending castes relative independance was hard won. It was also fragile. He knew that in the early days of his castes creation there had been total chaos until the early prototypes, led by the Signless had proven  it was more trouble than it was worth for the highbloods to try to keep their own little pet genetrix. The idea of an entire bloodline having been stolen was an immense blow. ( And horrifying purely from a stance of compassion. ) After breakfast Kanaya checked on the eggs temperature and the development of the embryos.

She checks his notations and makes a few of her own. Karkat tries not to fidget too much. They go to assembly next. Karkat takes his sickles. Out in the corridor are other adult genetrices and their attendants, all armed. The mood is too tense for the usual greetings and shit talking. Everyone heads into the assembly hall.

The Matre of the Cavern, flanked by the Matres of Medical, Education, Support, Assessment, and Genetics were on the stage. As a group they bowed. "By now you've been informed of the crime," the Matre of the Cavern says.  "We still don't have the details.  What we do know is that since  our Cavern is closest the genetrices will be brought here."

There was a flurry of questions, but the Matre of the Cavern signaled for quiet and  the Matre of Assessment stepped up. "The line has three living members. A third molt adult, a gravid adolescent and a two sweep old child. We don't  yet know if there were others that were sold elsewhere or culled."

"What's going to happen with the traffickers?" one of the older genetrices asks in a hard voice.

The Matre blinks. "They're ours of course. As always."

"Clowns," the genetrix points out as if this alone was an argument.  (It probably was. Fasces' most frequent genitors were a kismesis pair who were deacons in cult of the twin messiahs.)

The Matre's mouth twitches like she's  trying not to laugh. "I don't  think convincing them to turn over the criminals or what's  left will be a problem," she says.

More questions were asked about the situation and plans for the bloodline. Most of them were deflected, though Support indicated plans for housing and integration if possible were being discussed.  Karkat knew he wasn't the only one to shudder at the "if possible."

Assembly turned to other subjects such as the graduation of the most recent brood from the trials, the up coming Ascension for the next brood, and the Fete of the Last. (Karkat was on the decoration and planning committee for his sector of the Cavern.) There was also an announcement that due to the discovered theft, the Caverns had called off the Lottery and all genitors who hadn't taken vows were being asked to leave early. No one was especially happy about this.

After assembly was a doctor appointment where Karkat was approved for "light exercise." The doctor from long experience with her patient told him that extended sets with his sickles did not constitute light exercise. Twenty minutes a day, with a three minute increase over the next twelve weeks. "This is a monumental load of feculence in the backed up sewers of stupid bullshit I have to deal with," Karkat griped.

"I don't caaare," Zheydh almost sings. "This is what you get for over exerting yourself while gravid! You fainted and probably traumatized the class you were teaching Vantas. Then you wouldn't take my advice because quote 'you're not the one whose a waddling troll turducken.' Now I get to have my revenge."

"I hate you so much," Karkat says. "Shut up Kanaya."

"I didn't say anything," Kanaya says, amused.

"I can hear your I told you so," Karkat says, giving his attendant a glower.

"I doubt you're developing telepathy Karkat," Kanaya says teasingly.

 After the doctor appointment Karkat teaches his Lit class and goes to lunch. Then he attends  a section meeting where the main topics are morning assembly and the next environmental failure drill. (They were past due for a bolide emergency procedure. There was also strong argument for an actual raid drill.)

The meeting ran over, but he didn't get into very much trouble with his supervisor in the creche over it. The wigglers however were very sad he was late and manipulated extra story time out of him. After creche was dinner, which he shared with Kanaya.

The next few days were much the same except for an underlying simmer of anger for the traffickers. They still hadn't found out how it had happened, still weren't sure if the clowns were going to turn them over. Assembly was generally full of shouting that the Matres couldn't quite mediate.

The clown ship finally docks in the Cavern bay. It's surprisingly small and sleek and for a Church ship. (The cult had its  own shipyards and from what he'd heard their ships tended to be much bigger than standard Imperial ship  classes.) It's  painted with multicolored eyes and wings that spiral from bow to stern, and it's  maybe a quarter  the size of a cathedral ship. The ship is disturbingly named  Dance of the Angel.

Karkat is very very surprised when the Cavern Matre sends him a message that he's been asked to come with her to the ship and meet with the   Grand Highblood. "What the fuck?" Karkat asks. He waves his shelltop at Kanaya. "What is this? Am I reading this right?"

"I...it would seem so," Kanaya says. "The Grand Highblood wants to meet you."

“Why?" Kanaya gives him a look as if he's being deliberately obtuse. "Perhaps for some reason he feels is related to your Ancestor?" she suggests.

Karkat stares blankly back. "My Ancestor and nine caegars can get me a vaguely historically accurate romance novel."

"Karkat," Kanaya says. "I don't know whether you're being prickly about your Ancestor or you really believe that."

"It can be both!" Karkat says. "It's not like I have any special rank or responsibilities. Isn't it even in his will? 'If I should have a Descendant or if such should still exist in the future generations, put no burdens on him he doesn't take up.' I mean I'm  pretty sure there was a whole thing about it."

Kanaya smiles at Karkat. "Maybe that's something you could bring up with him.

 Karkat snorts. "Right I'm sure that's going to go over well," he says. There's a certain amount of fussing and preparation before Karkat is judged presentable for his meeting. Despite Kanaya's best efforts, he's never had much in the way of formal attire. There are some festival clothes, casual clothes, clothes for socializing or meeting with his genitors. But nothing really formal.

Kanaya ends up putting him into his favorite black velvet divided skirt, bright red long sleeved tunic, and a darker red robe with a wide black fabric belt. Also included were low leather boots, and a veiled hat. His only jewelry are some steel rings, and an ear cuff. He arms himself with his electric dart device (concealed) and his sickle (very much not concealed). Kanaya of course, is already dressed and perfectly made up. Her colors are the traditional jade green and black, though with  accents of genetrix bright red. She has no obvious weapons, but Karkat knows she's carrying.

"Ready?" she asks. Karkat nods, and  they both head out the door. They're met at the ship by the Matre of the Caverns, and a huge indigo, obviously a Church deacon.

"Karkat," the Matre says by way of greeting. "And Kanaya."

"Matre," Karkat and Kanaya chorus, and give a salute. They give another salute to the deacon.

"All y'all follow me," the deacon says, and heads up  gangway of the ship.

The Matre heads up first behind the deacon, followed by Karkat, with Kanaya taking up the rear. The inside of the ship is decorated much the way the exterior is. Eyes and feathered wings and spirals in rainbow hues. There are more indigo crewmen, who step aside as they pass. Karkat can hear conversation, and music, many voices singing.

The deacon leads them down several passages, and into something between an office and a sitting block. There  are low chairs and multicolored cushions everywhere, and a small dais where the Grand Highblood is sitting on more cushions in front of a low desk with books and readers scattered everywhere, along with a high end computing device. He's huge, and his paint is strangely simple. Flat, blank white, which seems to mean something to the Matre, because she gasps.

The three of them start to bow, but the Grand Highblood waves. "Sit yourselves down," the Grand Highblood says. When they've done so, (with some hesitation) he continues with, "Let me give you the full debrief," he says. "My word to your ears. There were rumors of undocumented crew and false papers. It was the legislacerators game at first, thinking it was stolen eggs or stolen grubs and wigglers, subadults. But it turned to something more heinous. A high barrister brother was bribed with a genetrix, and being not an idiot called on the church. We took over and rooted them out."

"You found only three?" The Matre of the Cavern asked. It was an oddly blunt question.

“That's on me," the Grand Highblood says. "The traffickers killed most of them, trying to destroy evidence, like they thought we wouldn't wring the truth from them. There was just the oldest of the line, the one the oldest  locked himself in a bitty room with, and the wiggler given to the barrister."

As he speaks, there's movement by the Grand Highblood's lap, behind the table. What seemed like another pile of colorful cloth turns out to be a troll. An adult genetrix, with white hair wearing what looks like second hand Church motley. He's long limbed, and skinny instead of the usual blocky build of most genetrices, and if he were standing, would be almost as tall as the Grand Highblood. He blinks sleepily at them.  "Sup."

There is a look of unmistakable fondness on the Grand Highblood's face. "You went and fell asleep on me again, thinking I'm a relaxation platform."

"No, I'm being sultry as fuck," the genetrix says.

"More like a underfed purrbeast," the Grand Highblood says. "We're at the Cavern. These are all to being your kin." The gentrix's eyes flick from the Matre, to Kanaya and Karkat. "I'm Matre Markstar, the Matre of this Cavern," the Matre says. "This is Kanaya Maryam, and Karkat Vantas, how should we call you?" "

Dhuvid Straid," the genetrix says.

"We're still in pursuit of some of the traffickers, who went on with a whole cloning lab and canisters of frozen tissue, but the most of them we'll be handing them over," the Grand Highblood says. "All mostly in one piece."

The Cavern Matre bows where she sits. "We thank you for rescuing our charges."

The Grand Highblood's mouth tilts in a slanted smile that reveals the curves of his fangs. "All I did was do my duty toward the children of the Mother, didn't I?" he casts a glance toward Karkat, deep indigo-purple eyes have a certain gleam to them. "Clever motherfucker, your Ancestor," he says to Karkat. "We the last children of the mother have a duty to each other and the future He was all sneaky talking about the castes outside of his newly formed one. You have his miraculous way with words? You've been quiet enough."

"With all respect, Highblood, if you want an argument with my Ancestor, you should hire a necromancer," Karkat says in a flat tone. The Grand Highblood laughs quietly. "It's the Descendant I wanted a word with," he says. "I promised Dhuvid his kin would be safe and together, and I won't turn them over to anyone who'd keep them apart or harm them."

Matre Markstar looks momentarily offended by that,but she recovers. "Sir, are you implying you want Teacher Vantas to mentor or take custody of the genetrice line?"

"Sister, I want him to have the care of Dhuvid's little brothers," the Grand Highbllood. "As I promised him."  A beat. "There being a matter of serendipity between us, such that I would take over his care."

"Frail and wilting flower, that's me." Dhuvid says. "I need the gentlest and sweetest pale pity."

"You speak more true than you know, rattle bones," the Grand Highblood says, amused. "With your permit I'd get to doing that, jade sister. My Descendant's taking over the hunt for the traffickers and all Church duties so I settle Dhuvid in."

 "Accommodations may be arranged, Highblood," Markstar says. "I will have the Imperial suite prepared for you."

"I'll be put up with Dhuvid by wherever Vantas is," the Grand Highblood says.

"The genetrice apartments are separate from the genitor and admittance suites," Markstar says. "Genitors generally do not go there, for obvious reasons." "Quadrants and the genitors that take vows do," the Grand Highblood points out.  "I want to see where you'll be mewing up my diamond, and see all how you'll be treating him and his kin. I'll take whatever vows the genitors that don't leave do."

"That would mean you don't leave," Karkat blurts over whatever probably more polite version of "what the fuck," Markstar was about to voice. "It is not actually like Servitors of the Genetrices down in the genetrice apartments," Karkat says, naming a series of porn videos that everyone has been warned about. (Since genitors often got weird ideas, especially the older high caste trolls still around from the last Mothergrub's broods.) "The imperial suiteblock is supposed to be all fancy and shit, according to your station. Dhuvid and his line are probably going to be in the infirmary getting checked over before anyone gets moved anywhere, anyway."

"You think I don't know what I'm asking for?" The Grand Highblood asks, voice hard."I'll stay by him, where ever he's put up."

"Enduring great privations and all that shit," Dhuvid says. He's leaning up against the Highblood's side, and despite the bland tone, there's a certain amount of tension in his shoulders. "Boss, explain me a thing, what's this argument about?" a beat. "You said it was goinng to be safe here."

"So I did,"  Grand Highblood says. "And it is, there's just these little particulars."

[theonetheycallhannah]

A Mage’s Beginning-Part Two

Summary: Anathema and Geralt continue their evening together learning more about each other and Anathema makes a big decision...but not a very difficult one, in the end.

Pairing: Geralt/OFC (Anathema of Velena)

Word Count: 4742

Rating/Warnings: E for language, mature themes and situations, smut, smutty smut. 

Part One here 

Inspiration: Same as part one, just taking things to a sexy place in part two.

Author’s Note: So, here’s where things get steamy, friends! I’ve gotten explicit in some places, but in others, I decided to let you use your imaginations. (One of my favorite sayings, after all is “I don’t have a dirty mind, i have a sexy imagination!” lol!”) 

Tag List: @sunflowersstan @mylittlepartofthegalaxy @mstgsmy @lareinedususpense @geekycanuck @lunedelorient and @littlefreya Please let me know if you want to be tagged or if you want me not to tag you in things! I will not be offended! 

"I don't recall saying I'd mind sharing a cozy space with you, Ana." He used the short form of her name and it sent shivers through her. Only her closest friends and Tissaia ever used that name, and she was fine to let Geralt be among that elite.

"I assumed…"

"Mmm, bad idea, assuming. Haven't you heard?" As if to punctuate the joke, he stroked her ass.

"Geralt, I…"

"Don't. Don't lie to me. Just as you can sense a witcher, I can tell when someone wants me. I can smell the change in their bodies. Hear it in their pulse. See it in the dilation in their pupils and the blush of their skin. You can't hide it, Ana." He spoke all of these utterly irrelevant and obvious words in his guttural growl. All sounding like variations of his signature "mmm."

"Geralt, no, that's not what I mean. You're completely right about all of that, of course. But that's not why I hesitate now."

He looked at her, apparently concerned that he was dangerously near his word cap for the day.

"I'm very attracted to you. I won't deny it. But I'm not…I haven't. Fuck how can I even get into this at my age?"

"If it's something I need to know, like a disease, or something, don't mince around it."

God he was thick. The thickest. His thighs had nothing on that skull of his. Nothing but a canon was getting through it. For all his insight into other more physical things, how could he not sense something like this?

"I've never been with a man, you dolt." she rolled her eyes. The moment seemed to wither with their libidos. A virgin. How could she still be a virgin. It wasn't even a question. It was an accusation. A criminal charge.

He scowled, shook his head, something like a whinnying horse, and replied, "Fuck does that matter?" and he kissed her deeply and warmly. Firmly but tenderly. She started to bend to him. She would do this if he was willing to take her. But wait. Her sanity prevailed.

"Wait, wait, Geralt." she said around his lips and tongue. She still felt drugged. Damn, she could have done that for hours.

"Haven't you waited long enough, little mage?" he went for her mouth again, but she put up her hands to his chest to firmly protest.

"Yes. I have. I really want this. I promise, I do, but…I'm going to want to take things slowly. I don't know what to expect." Her hands were shaking against that cliff face of a chest he had. He took them in his, folding them together as if in prayer, and began to kiss them.

"In short, pleasure." he breathed out a laugh. He was sure of himself. She rolled her eyes. "We can go at your pace and I'll talk you through everything. We can take all night. Or several nights, if you like. Just know that I'm not bothered at all by this. I'm actually honored. I feel…privileged. You have nothing to fear from me. I only want for us to enjoy ourselves together." he pulled her back out into the main area in the tent and sat her on the chaise lounge near the top where the back and arm were.

"We are just going to kiss for now. Okay? If you want me to do more, just…move my hands wherever you want them. And talk to me about how you're doing. I don't want to hurt you. But I might by accident if you don't tell me when I start to." she nodded that she understood. That wasn't enough for him. "Tell me that you understand."

"I will tell you if you start to hurt me or if I need you to stop." she expressed, adding the bit about stopping on her own. They were sat next to one another, his hand resting behind her on the low-sloping arm of the lounge, bracing him. She thought he seemed a bit nervous, too. His other hand lifted her chin so he could better view her face. His touch was surprisingly gentle for his size, profession, and the way he spoke. His next words were the biggest shock yet.

"You are so terribly lovely, Anathema." her eyes focused on him in that moment of vulnerable expression. Why was it so exposing to tell someone that fact about themselves? Why did it seem to say so much about you? She had trouble reciprocating the compliment, even though she felt it…by the gods, did she ever feel it. She could only manage tearful gratitude. She couldn't remember being told of her beauty. Even after her ascension. After she truly saw it. "You really are. These eyes of yours. I'm lost in them." he leaned in to envelope her mouth in another kiss. This one, only her third ever, was gentle and measured, and didn't press for entry as the previous one had. He was content like this. And it was splendid. He kissed well, with his hand bracing her nape to maintain the proper pressure. She turned her body to him. She wanted to touch him.  One arm found his back and smoothed the fabric of his tunic over the warm granite of his sinew. The other landed lightly, and she thought, harmlessly on his leg near his knee. She heard him inhale sharply through the nose and groan into her mouth, increasing pressure on her lips.

She knew this meant he needed more of her. And she was beginning to feel the same. She parted her lips for him. His tongue entered tentatively, but quickly became right at home. She wasn’t expecting him to be so…active. So nimble. He was tasting every inch of her mouth. Inside and out. Lapping, nipping, and kissing around her mouth to tease her. It was working. She was giggling and he followed suit.

“That laugh. It takes me to a better time and place. It’s the most magical thing about you. And it’s all you.” What was he doing to her!? She pulled him in again, needing his mouth. She swung her leg around the other side of the chaise so that Geralt was essentially sitting between her knees. She shimmied closer. She wanted his arms around her. His hands feeling her. She needed him to just take control because she couldn’t do all of the work here and concentrate on the sensations.

“Put your hands on me, Geralt. Hold me. Do what you will. I’ll stop you if you’re going too far.” she begged. It went against the grain a bit, to plead to him like this, but at lease he wasn't the kind to take advantage or devalue her as most men would. It was all he needed to hear. He shifted so that he was now above her, one foot on the floor, the other knee on the cushion. She felt as though he was trying to pull her up into heaven the way he kissed her and held her neck and waist. She didn't know why he was bothering when she was already there. The pressure of him was so exquisite. She didn't know whether she would implode from it, or explode.

Her hands couldn't remain idle, themselves. They were on a sensory mission to explore his tunic and trousers. Such a different sensation now than when she'd been cleaning and mending them. No longer containing mere whispers and memories of him, but his warm, solid flesh incarnate. Her touch, light and teasing, had spurred him on to advance their kissing session to a more vertical position. She succumbed to him again, to the pressure of his bodyweight now advancing her back onto the pillows behind her, ones that she'd chosen to be decorative, but had become suddenly very welcome in a practical sense.

She'd been right to reserve the term "ravenous" during their dinner. She hadn't seen anything yet. His mouth sought every inch of her mouth to conquer, and when it needed a break, it retreated a while to her cheeks, and forehead, and chin. To her ears, neck, and sternum. She felt fire being fanned inside her at his onslaught and was beginning to lose her mind. What to do? Then like lightning, something primal in her that had been stirring since she'd met Geralt woke with a bolt. A creature to match the one driving her lover. She suddenly knew what to do to get relief. To quench that fire for a time.

Her wrap dress was already slipping from her thighs. She flicked it away with her knee to free her throbbing center. She used her legs to pull Geralt's thigh closer to her drenched, hot body, needing contact, and somehow knowing, even as a novice, that nothing would do right now, except for him. He growled at the naughty act, she giggled, until suddenly, it was not funny. The leather hit her center and she began to twist and thrust her pelvis against his leg. Her slickness gliding so easily against it that she had to keep herself from going too fast. Or maybe she didn't. She already felt something building. Maybe she should go with it.

"Have you ever had an orgasm before, Anathema?" he gently and respectfully asked the pointed question that very few could get away with.

She hadn't. She'd heard tales of girls in town losing their virginity by riding horses, so she'd always insisted on riding in a cart or carriage if she had to go anywhere back then. Not that she went many places. She found out later, much to her embarrassment that those stories were myths perpetuated by her mother to keep her modest and "pure," in spite of the fact that this irony could not be overstated.

And although Sapphic rumors teemed about the lady mages of Aretuza, she'd never been involved in anything of the sort…not that she hadn't been curious. And not that she would have turned down an invitation if she'd received one.

And she just hadn't known enough about her body to really try to make that happen on her own. Even though she knew it was possible.

She shook her head, and stopped thrusting dead in her tracks.

"You are free to continue doing that all night, if you like. But if you're ready, I'd love to give you your first one. What do you think?"

"What…what do you mean?" she asked. She wasn't trying to be dirty, but she really was curious what he meant to do to her.

"I mean foreplay, sweetheart." he brushed a tendril of sweat-dampened hair away from her face. And continued. "I'll use my hands and fingers, my tongue, if you want. You'll need quite a bit before we go all the way. It gets you ready for me, and it will feel incredible."

She said nothing, just stared at him with a faraway shyness in her eyes. She was considering what this meant. If he was ready to go on to this stage, he'd be ready for sex soon, too. And she wasn't certain that she was. But maybe the next step would be the motivation she needed. She nodded.

"Stop me though, if you don't like what I'm doing, okay?" he prompted sternly. Somehow, she knew this required a vocal response.

"Okay, I will." she nodded again.

"May I?" he asked, hands already beginning to untie her dress. She moaned her assenting response. He planted a centering kiss between her breasts, then moved clockwise around to her right nipple, up her neck, savaging her ear and kissing her deeply and with marked poignancy before descending the other side. Every kiss, nip, and touch of his tongue made her delirious. He anchored again in the center of her sternum, and descended. She squirmed beneath him, feeling every breath out of his mouth and nose course through her like a hurricane. Each touch, a lightning strike. She felt the tectonic plates in her body shifting under his handiwork. This was so alien to her. She loved the feeling. She tensed when he reached her pelvis. There was no accounting for these nerves, but she was feeling them, nevertheless.

"Relax, kitten. This part isn't going to hurt at all." The emphasis he put on the words "this part" caused her some dismay…it implied that there would be parts that would hurt. That was unnerving. But she couldn't think too much about that when his mouth was on her bare skin. He was teasing her without mercy. Kissing and licking all over her lower abdomen…her pelvis…her thighs. Then he growled…or at least that's what she thought it sounded like.

She looked down and tried to decipher the look on his face. It was almost the same look he'd had before they started dinner tonight. When he was washed up and ready for his meal. Hungry. Was he hungry again? Looking…at her? Blessed mother, he wasn't going to…but he did. He laid a gentle kiss onto her trembling mound. He was just breathing over her. Warming her already smoldering body. She writhed again. She felt a strange, hollow ache deep inside.  A painful emptiness was creeping over her body unlike anything she'd ever felt. It was most prevalent in a place that she didn't remember thinking about that much before. Somewhere adjacent to her bladder. It felt almost like a spinning top, wound too tightly, and made to spin for far too long.

He inhaled her again, all around her hips, teasing her, avoiding that spot nearby that was alight with nervous energy and ready to engulf them both in an inferno with the next tiny spark. She hadn't even realized it, but she'd been writhing beneath him, eager for contact. For friction.

"Easy, little tiger. I've got you. I'll take care of you." he smiled against her smooth skin. "It's just…your scent. I needed more of it before I went on." he didn't elaborate on what he was smelling, or why he needed it. She assumed it was a combination of the lilac in her soap and bathwater, and the rosewater she used to soften her skin along with her natural musk coming out as she got warmer.

He spread her as far as he could now, and reached out a calloused finger to her middle. She'd never felt this sort of touch. She gasped at the newness as he rubbed the little hood over her urethra. She thought she'd heard it referred to the clit in impolite conversations at Aretuza. Conversations in which she could not participate actively because of lack of experience. She moaned as he continued, varying his patterns and methods. He added a second finger, eventually, sliding one up and down either side of the trigger point. She didn't know what to do with herself. She couldn't form coherent thoughts anymore.

If she though she was going insane with just his touch, she was in for quite a shock given what was about to happen. As his fingers slid out of the way, his lips immediately replaced them. The sensations couldn't have been more different, but gods, how she loved them both. She was learning very quickly what she had been missing all of these years. And so far, she thought she might end up making up for lost time.

He sighed as he began laying open mouthed kisses to her quivering heat, tasting her body as she got wetter and wetter. It seemed the more he had of her, the more he wanted. Before long, the pleasure was almost more than she could stand. She wanted to stop him. Push him away. But it felt too good. She held on to the back of the chaise supporting her, now in more ways than one as he tortured her with the sheer bliss of his mouth.

She felt a digit graze her flower in gentle exploration as he continued his feast. He tested her, watching her for a reaction. She looked at him and just nodded. She was ready to have him inside her in some way or another. He breached her slowly, tenderly, searching for and quickly finding another doorway to ecstasy that she had no idea was there. She bucked her hips up, thrusting into his mouth, not expecting the surge of pleasure his touch would bring. She felt him giggle against her. She loved the sound, in no small part because, from what she'd learned thus far of the man between her legs, it didn't seem like his life was filled with much laughter. She'd not only been witness to a rare thing, but caused it to happen. That made her feel more powerful than any magic she'd learned so far ever could do.

He slid another finger inside her, spreading her deliciously, and filling her exquisitely. She shuddered at the slight twinge it caused her. She thought about his…well, she remembered several things together, actually. She remembered him implying that there would eventually be pain. She remembered his cock swinging thick and low as he stood naked before her. She remembered being put under for her transformation and being very sore in several…womanly places when she awoke from the anesthetization. She suddenly put together all of these thoughts like a puzzle and got a new, somewhat startling picture. When he had sex with her…real, actual sex, that would absolutely hurt.

She somehow had room for both the current pleasure and the impending fear. She tried to focus on the former. His fingers and mouth were miracles, finding all of the right places and doing all the right things exactly right…if this was so right, how could having him inside her, REALLY inside her, be wrong? He was picking up speed and pressure. Her breathing quickened and her body tensed. She could feel something about to happen.

"Let go for me, baby. Feel it. Enjoy this." his instructions weren't specific, but they were helpful enough in encouraging her to release whatever she'd been holding onto, tethering her to the physical plane. And the pressure inside that he'd been building for her suddenly exploded like a tiny bomb inside her. She was shattered, but whole. Fractured, but complete. Lost in nirvana but certain now of what was next. Her body pulsed with blood and spasms as she rode out the waves of her first ever orgasm. The first of many, she was certain. And more than a little hopeful.

"Oh, Geralt. Is this normal? Does it…does it always…feel like this?" she asked dreamily as he kissed his way up to her neck.

"You're very sensitive, Ana. Since you've never done this before, it will be very intense for you for a while. Until you get more familiar with it." he stared at her, caressing her blissed out face with a satisfied and smug grin. His lips looked so inviting, wet with her arousal.

"Come 'ere." she pulled him down to her easily. She was full of thoughts as she kissed her flavor from his full lips. She thought about ever getting used to what she'd just experienced. She didn't think it seemed likely. She also couldn't get the picture of his naked body out of her mind. What must he be like all cleaned up and smelling nice. She ran her hands down his abdomen to his bulge, which threatened to damage his newly repaired trousers. She palmed and squeezed him there gently.

"Geralt, I want it to be tonight." she assured him. She was beyond done being a virgin, and Geralt was the one she wanted to usher her into womanhood. He'd been doing so well, and who knows? They could be dead tomorrow. Why wait and risk it?

"You're sure, Anathema? You want me to do this to you?"

"No! Geralt! I want you to do this FOR me! I'm ready, you're incredible, and I want it to be you."

"Well, let's say I'll do this WITH you? Okay? I'm not doing it here, though. This is not the place where one is deflowered. Lead me to your bed, maiden, so I can make you a maiden no more." he said coyly as he stood and pulled her up as well. She took him by the hand and they walked toward the area where her bed was. She let go of him and slid the wrap dress off her shoulders, as it was barely hanging on, anyway.

Geralt was working at the laces of his tunic. Anathema didn't feel this was a prudent use of time, however and spelled him naked with a mighty wind.

"That's convenient." he laughed as he stepped forward to wrap her up in his crushing kiss. She replied in muffled fragments that when strung together sounded something like, "I never have occasion to use it. And it was terribly awkward to learn at Aretuza."

"You never mentioned naked women in your rant earlier this evening." he teased.

She poked his ribs and backed him onto the bed.

"Who said we practiced on women?" she asked, climbing atop him, and pinning him to the bed with a hungry kiss of her own. He raised his eyebrows. "We practiced on rabbits in human clothes. But ya know. Sometimes we'd miss." she teased. He flipped her over in a show of unquestionable dominance. Playful, but absolutely in charge.

"You are a feisty one. I like that."

"Yeah?" she asked, breathless through his drowning and drugging kisses against her mouth and neck and oh, gods, every-damn-place.

"I like breaking in a wild filly. It's a challenge. One I'm more than up to." as if to punctuate the statement, he ran a firm hand up her neck, not choking, but implying his ability, and grinding his hard member against her. She gasped.

"But tonight," he continued, "I'll make sure to go easy. Your first time shouldn't be like that. We have plenty of time for…well, everything." he lifted her enough to pull back the bed coverings and laid her back down, properly this time, in the center of the mattress.

"Now, I want to ask you one more time. Are you sure about this?" he looked uncertain, himself. She didn't take it personally as she might have so many years ago. She knew his uncertainty was not a reflection of her desirability, but rather a concern that she was finally succumbing to a societal ideal and taboo all together. Because once she fucked Geralt, she would no longer be a prude. She would be a whore. And there would be no in-between. It didn't matter. She didn't care. Fuck everyone who had ever called her a prude. Fuck everyone who would ever call her a whore. Fuck everyone but Geralt…ironically. The one person she was about to literally fuck.

"I'm sure about this, Geralt. I'm sure about now. And most of all, I'm sure about you." she reached for the nearest bit of him, his hand, and grabbed it. She squeezed as tight as she could and smiled full of hope and excitement. He kissed the hand that had found his, and held it to his heart.

"Know that this means something to me. And it always will. No matter what becomes of us. Tonight is special to us both, Anathema." And with that heartfelt sentiment, he spread her legs.

He dipped his mouth to her center one last time to make sure she was ready for him, lending his tongue again just to make sure. Then, kneeling above her, he took his length in his hand and paused, looking at her. He was so close to her. She could feel his body heat radiating into her. Almost a touch.

"Ready?"

"Yes, Geralt." she didn't beg, but the words fell almost wanton from her lips.

He went into her little by little, causing her sweet agony. He went so slowly. She half wondered if it might be better to just have him slam into her. But she dared not ask. This was too perfect. Just when she thought there couldn't be any more of him, more is what he gave. His face was left her awestruck. The picture of agonized restraint. It did two things perfectly. It showcased just how difficult it was for him to show that restraint they discussed before; for which she now felt in his debt. It also made her want him to keep going. Harder. And faster. She knew he would, once she acclimated to the disparity in their body sizes.

She slid her hand up his rippling arm, over his sinewy shoulder and clasped it gently over his neck. His eyes met hers as he met the resistance inside her. Sparks flashed in her periphery and the canvas above her spun and wavered as if a tornado was about to snatch it right up from the supports and stakes. But there was no wind. There was only Geralt. Geralt, who was now beginning his slow thrusts. Nothing could have prepared her for the sensation of having him inside her. The pain of it was so delicious. This wasn't like the pain of an injury, as was her concern. This was like getting out of bed after a long sleep and stretching your muscles. That ache that came from using something long dormant. Which was exactly what was happening.

"Oh. Yes. Geralt!" she exclaimed as he quickened his pace slightly. Gradually. His mouth began working on her upper body. From her breasts to her ears, he ravaged her with love bites and wet, suckling kisses, and the filthiest nonsense in her ear she could have ever imagined.

"Ana, it feels so good inside you." That was one of her favorites. She didn't know she needed the words from him along with everything else. The touch, and the thrusts which grew faster by the minute. She could feel herself building tension again like she had earlier. She was eager  for another, but something was holding her back. She wasn't sure what it was.

"I'm gonna come inside you very soon, okay?" she nodded, but voiced a concern.

"Geralt, I don't think I'm going to be able to do it again." she didn't mean to sound so worried or upset. But apparently she was. And in her heightened state of arousal, she couldn't mask it.

"You can, baby. Of course you can. You can do it ten times as often as I can, and not to brag, but that's saying something. I'll help you, kitten." and he reached between their bodies and touched her again, never breaking his stride. She replied in the affirmative with a strangled "fuck," and continued to ride the waves of pleasure through her pinnacle and then his, hot and fast inside her. She had the presence of mind to take note of the sound he made as he lost himself. It was a guttural, almost feral grunt filled with pleasure and relief. She felt a swelling of pride. She couldn't explain it because, intellectually, she was sure that pretty much anyone could have given Geralt what she just had, but on the other hand…they hadn't…and she had.

"Wow!" Ana said, breathless. Limp. Satisfied.

"You can say that again." Geralt replied in the same manner, and equally spent. Rolling to her side, but still touching her.

"Can we DO that again?" She asked eagerly. He laughed, which made her smile and turn towards him and play with his skin, dewy from exertion.

"We can. I would like that very much. But maybe tonight we get some rest. We have a difficult task ahead of us in finding out what decimated this city, and if it's what I think it is, it will take all of our combined skills to defeat it." he said, somberly delaying their next romp and bringing the matter that had brought them together back to the forefront of her mind.

She'd had her suspicions, as well, but didn't want to be right, and certainly didn't want to think about it after such a beautiful milestone in her life.

"Okay. But, will you please stay with me?"

"After you conjured me such lovely quarters?" he teased. She nodded sheepishly. "Of course, little witch. If that's what you want."

"It is, witcher." she grinned haughtily at him, pulled him closer, and with a wave of her hand, cast the tent into pitch blackness.

~fin~

[write-like-you-mean-it]

A Hunter’s Prey: Hotel Rooms and Pins

Being so close to the Republic of Padokea was strange. In the far off distance, I could almost see the outline of Kukuroo Mountain. Heaven’s Arena was on the same continent as where I was held captive for so long. We had been traveling here ever since the day after Chrollo and I’s ‘date.’ 

Most of the walking was dedicated to my thought process on how I would speak to Illumi once I was there. Many times during the trip, Machi had stopped to ask what was on my mind. As much as I wanted to tell her, I couldn’t. My revelation needed to be discussed with Illumi first. 

The only solace was the bickering between Machi and Shalnark. They seem like old best friends even though they have almost nothing in common. Since we had such a long trip, Shalnark had brought along a handheld gaming system. He only brought it out when we were on a transportation method; however, if Chrollo would let him, he’d be playing while we were walking. 

Heaven’s Arena was a massive structure that could only be truly seen through squinted eyes as it went to the sun. “Finally here,” said Shalnark in a chipper tone. “I can finally play my games in peace!”

“I can’t help it if I’m better at them than you,” joked Machi. I rolled my eyes at the typical scenario. She only said that to tick him off. And, of course, it did. Chrollo didn’t care about the back and forth. Instead, his focus was only on the arena. 

“You ready?” I asked him. He held a cold, stoic demeanor but I could feel tension. 

“Yes,” he said. “Are you?”

“No,” I confessed. “I still haven’t planned what I’ll say.”

Chrollo chuckled before taking steps to walk into the arena. Kortopi and I followed while Machi and Shalnark were still fighting over her comment. I doubted that they would be coming anytime soon. 

The front guest lady treated Chrollo and his guests like royalty: the perk of being a floor leader. We were taken to this room close to the top floor. The skyline was a beautiful mess of city and country. From this vantage point, it was almost impossible to not see the mountain that held the family of assassins. Chrollo had yet to tell me what Illumi would be at this fight. He had also neglected to tell me who he would be fighting. 

“Nice room boss,” said Kortopi. He was easily scouring around the room in hopes of finding treasure that was held within the inclosed space. He easily found a vase and started to make a copy. 

“Don’t waste your Nen,” replied Chrollo as he stood beside me while I looked out at the ground. “I’ll borrow it from you when you get a chance. You might need to get Salnark to come up here because one of them is going to die if we don’t check on the two.” Kortopi nodded his head. His hair flying in all directions before scurrying out of the room to get the bickering members. 

“How do you know Illumi will be here?” It was the question that plagued my mind ever since I’d been invited on this journey. 

“Because my opponent is Hisoka.” His words were as poignant and void of any emotion. I remember back to my meeting of Hisoka many weeks ago. Machi and his pissing match was all I could remember of the killer clown. 

“And?”

“Illumi and him have an interesting relationship.” Chrollo walked back to the single bed in the room and sat down. His eyes were transfixed on the black, leather book that lay within his hands. “Illumi would not miss this fight for the world.” 

I decided not to press the topic further due to Chrollo’s furrowing demeanor and hurried hands. The typical strong man was going over his notes again and again. His study was like a master musician playing an strenuous instrument. I could see the gears of preparation moving deep within the recesses of his mind. Even though he said he wasn’t worried, there was a thin crease on his brow. 

I found myself to become occupied within the context of my own mind. If Illumi was to be here, then when would he arrive. What if he was already here? Would I run into him as I go to the snack machine down the hall? If so, I have to figure out the best words to say what I feel. Coming out with love would be a bit too strong for someone who hasn’t text or talked in a week. 

Machi, Shalnark and Kortopi finally showed up after thirty minutes. My guess was that it took that long for them to calm down enough to be in the same elevator. The flight up was a little long. 

“So Boss,” said Machi, taking a seat on a chair that was next to a small kitchen set within the room. “We saw Hisoka entering the building a little bit ago.”

“It has begun,” smirked Chrollo before standing up. “I must talk to the people in charge about a few preparations for the fights. I have one host that I like a lot more than others. I’ll be back before the fight so that I can borrow Shalnark and Kortopi’s Nen. In the meantime, enjoy the space.”

The three seemed uninterested. It’s like they knew this place more than anyone else here. “Oh, Y/N,” said Chrollo. “I told the others but do not be in the arena for the fight. Watch it on the screen. Make sure anyone you want to be alive does that as well.”

With that final word, Chrollo disappeared. It was a warning that I should find Illumi before the fight. From the T.V that Shalnark had turned on, the announcer said that the fight would be happening in a day. I had 24 hours to find Illumi and make sure he is not in the arena tomorrow.. 

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

I told the rest of the team that I was going to take a walk throughout the hotel to find something to eat. It was a lie but Machi wouldn’t appreciate what I was actually doing. I made sure to note where the room was before I went on my grandiose adventure to find him. 

My first stop was the ground floor to see if anyone had seen him. The response of the workers was that no one by that name had registered for a fight or had purchased a ticket to see the fight. 

My next idea was to continually wander the hallways until I found him. I peaked my head into a few matches to see if he was there. None of the arena’s held Illumi. As tall as this building was, the prospect of finding him was getting smaller and smaller. 

By the time that I had reached the 200th floor, I had yet to see any source of the long haired man. I was becoming tired and hungry. I was going to give up my search when I noticed a red headed clown standing at the end of the hallway. 

“Hisoka!” I couldn’t tell if my cry was out of fear or excitement. If Illumi and him did have a friendship then he might know where Illumi could be. My outburst had caused his attention to be turned away from whatever his goal was before. 

“Oh hello~. I can’t believe that Illu would bring you to this fight.”

“He didn't,'' I said. 

“Then I’m even more surprised that you were able to get up to the 200 floor. I would’ve knocked you out by the third~.”

“-No,” I interrupt. “I’m not a fighter either. I’m here to find Illumi. Have you seen him or know where he might be?”

A sly smile crossed his painted face. It was a smile that would kill someone if they looked at him the wrong way. Here I was asking a murder for advice on my assassin significant other. No. We were broken up. My assassin ex. “My information comes at a cost~. Why do you want to know here poor Illu is?”

I sigh knowing that this was my only lead. The vibes he gave off sent a shiver down my spine. If I was smart, I would head back and find Machi. Hisoka gave off more powerful vibes than Illumi ever did. It must be their personalities. 

“What would you like to know?” 

“Why aren’t you with Illu~. Decide you were too good for him?” Hisoka put emphasis on his statement with a wink. 

“No,” I stutter at his boldness. However, Hisoka was right. I did decide I was too good for him. That is the reason I left. Now I want him back. “Well yes, “ I corrected. “It was a mutual thing. Now I want to see him.”

“Ah Illu~” Hisoka sighed dramatically. “He needs to learn how to keep a girl. I should show him after the fight-”

“-I told you so where is he?”

“My. my, little Illumi found himself a spitfire. I always thought he’d get a submissive girl. Maybe you are more interesting than I gave you credit~.”

I sighed and realized that he was not going to give me the information that I wanted. A sad state of affairs that made my bones ache even more. Only a few hundred more rooms to look through before I’d give up for the night. 

“Check under the name Gittarackur. He should be in room 275,” the clown called from down the hall. I didn’t give him the decency of a response. Instead, I went to the elevator and started my ascension to Illumi’s floor. 

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

My heart pounded as the elevator climbed to the floor. After all this time looking, I still hadn’t found the correct words to say in order to make him want to stay with me. I was stuck between confessing my love and telling him off for leaving me alone. I glanced at my reflection in the warped metal hung on the sides. I looked a lot more tired than I did when I lived with him. The phantom troupe tries to stay hidden so they don’t eat as much as other people. My hair was a mess due to sleeping on the ground. My reflection matched the image I felt: empty. 

I walked to his door. My heart beat faster with every single step. My legs carried me only by force rather than by acknowledgement. Soon enough, I was at the door. Gold numbers said 275. 

I took a deep breath before finally knocking on the door. There was no answer for a long time. I knocked once more. This time my knocks were desperate and wanting. If Hisoka had lied, I would personally beat him even if I died in the process. 

A few more moments went by before the door’s chain clanged off the runner, and the door opened. However, it wasn’t Illumi. It was a creepy man with a sunken face. Needles protruded from his face like a monster. Unlike Illumi’s naturally long hair, his hair sat up in a purple mohawk. My heart dropped in disappointment. 

“Oh, I’m sorry sir,” I said. “I was told this was a friend’s room.” My legs started to take me back to the elevator in embarrassment. 

The man’s head turned with a few violent clicks as if he was made of metal. “Wait,” said the metallic voice. The arm pulled out a few pins in his face as if a terrifying gesture for attack. I braced my body with the use of Nen as I knew that he could throw them at me anytime. 

Instead, the man’s face transformed. The pins were keeping his appearance different. Black hair shot out from the top of his head and cascaded down to his knees. The smiling face was replaced with the blank looked expression that I knew so well. 

“I-Illumi?” I stuttered. “How? What?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, Illumi walked out of the room while dropping the needles. They scattered the ground like dust. Illumi reached out and pulled me close to him. A desperate feeling of warmth washed over me. He held me tightly in his arms. 

I held back hopelessly wanting the basic affections of a hug. A sob wracked my body as every emotion came out at once. During all our time together, he’d never want to hold me. We always had sides that couldn’t be crossed. The only sense of emotional vulnerability was when we had sex. This was different. This was more intimate than any of our times. 

I didn’t know how long we stayed there in each other’s arms. Illumi was the first to pull away and only to drag me into his room. Instead of embracing once again, we stood at an awkward distance; waiting for someone to make the first move. “Illumi,” I whispered. Our silence was broken by that one word. 

“I was afraid you’d never come back,” Illumi said. His voice still held the same montonedness; however, it was different. There was a break to his tone. His voice sounded more human and not like a creation of his father. 

“I was afraid you left,” I said. 

“No. I won’t. Not again. I can’t lose you again.” His words were enough to bring the same tears to my eyes. Illumi was actually using emotions. It was a twisty fantasy that I held ever since I was kidnapped so long ago. Words couldn’t express the hurt, pain, longing that held me up so many nights. I, after long last, could kiss him. Which I did gladly.

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[unaskedformagnustheories]

UNASKED FOR MAGNUS THEORY #6: EXTINCTION IS COMING (AND HELEN WILL BE THE ONE TO OPEN THE DOOR)

If the title didn’t make it readily apparent, this post contains speculation on MAG Season 5. Please do not read if you haven’t made it to 160 in the pod. There be spoilers ahead.  We good?  All the new offerings listeners gone? 

Alright!  To my dearest Red-Stringers, I know it’s been a minute. I’ve been gearing up to this one for a while. Teased it on discord, even, but I’ve put off sharing, because this might be the theory I’m most attached to. Seriously, half the other ones on here are rambles at best (an exercise in futility at worst), I'm tired of letting this one collect dust, and want to share with you folks before I lose my nerve.  The short of it? I suspect the birth of The Extinction is still a threat in this post-apocalyptic world. I believe Elias’ ritual was just a stepping stone along the path, and Adelard Dekker and Peter Lukas were looking in the wrong place when they assumed this new power would be born from The End. Instead, I think The Spiral has been has been laying out the red carpet from the start with Distortion’s help, and The Archivist’s a little foolish for not questioning whether or not the apocalypse could get worse.  While I’ve been wary of Helen for a while (as lovely as Imogen Harris is), I have to admit the seed for this train of thought was planted by Simon Fairchild in MAG 151: 

“Peter seems convinced that the Extinction is different, that its actual birth will be as bad - or worse - as another power fully manifesting. He believes its advent will be heralded by all sorts of disasters, and catastrophes, and global upheavals, and whatnot. That kind of thing”

Upheavals? Catastrophes? Seems a fitting description for an escalating few decades worth of failed rituals, wouldn’t you say? Even Adelard Dekker mused in his last correspondence with Gertrude “perhaps the birth of such things is longer and more complicated than I believed” (MAG 157). It could even include an eyepocalypse on the way to greatness, and I don’t think it coincidence a familiar set of corridors has been on the sidelines munching popcorn for most of the story so far. One of the first descriptions we get of Michael is through a distorted window pane in Sasha James’ apartment building, the glass warped like a “funhouse mirror” (MAG 26). This description is echoed in A New Door when Helen Richardson describes the paintings in Michael’s corridors “each distorted [him] differently, like a selection of funhouse mirrors”. Curious then, isn’t it that one of Adelard Dekker’s statements regarding The Extinction tells the tale of a man who stepped from our world into a horrifying, inhuman reality via a very similar pathway? While the mirror world in Magnus 156 - Reflection isn’t usually tied to The Spiral (from what I’ve seen around the fandom) I would argue the funhouse aspect and the maze imagery should make us reconsider. That being said, I’d like to draw your attention specifically to the three odd mirrors this unfortunate dark tourist finds: 

1. “expanded him into a short, squat reflection”  2.  “bent him out of shape”  3. “squeezed him, made him thin and gaunt, and that was the one which took him” 

Is it just me, or do the first two distorted goldilocks mirrors remind anyone else an awful lot of The Maker of Clay “short and squat, with knobbly bare arms that seemed to reach down almost to his knees” and The Distortion (do I really need to explain why? ha, you folks have been listening to the same show I’ve been listening to). Is it such a reach to imagine that the third mirror represents a facet of The Spiral that’s still marinating? Biding its time until full emergence. Have we forgotten already that Extinction-prophet Garland Hillier left a warning telling us that “the door is the door” after presumably losing himself in an alternate Paris full of inhuman inheritors so twisted that the researcher who accidentally followed him couldn’t even put into words how terrifying the creatures that come after humanity are (MAG 134)? Or is The door THE DOOR, and we should really be more concerned about her machinations.  It’s not exactly news the Distortion’s motivations have been foggy from the start. In the very beginning Michael told Sasha he didn’t care if she and her friends at The Archives lived or died. And yet he hung around treating their handling of The Unknowing like it was a spectator sport. Then when he became she, Helen stayed around the Institute to offer ‘help’, but happily denied Jon assistance when he came asking for an ally before entering the panopticon. Post-apocalypse? Martin’s not the only one who’s noticed she’s gleefully getting “worse”, and I can’t help but get the sense she’s not riding the chaos so much as riding the tide of a plan finally coming to fruition. Thriving.

It could explain (if we assume The Spider is working to re-establish the world that was) why The Distortion was so intent on getting into Hill Top Road when it was torturing Marcus MacKenzie (MAG 146). When approaching the house, Marcus remembers feeling the door’s playfulness disappear as “a cold hunger” set in “as though [he] had no right to just stand there looking at it. The street was silent, but [he] could feel it screaming at [him] to open it”. Was The Distortion aware that the time-warp house might be the only real threat to Extinction’s birth and wanted to cut it off at the head? I know I’m spiraling into conjecture a little, but this post could turn into a novella if I didn’t. I just think it would be a great twist if while we’re focusing on Elias as the big bad something worse could be lurking in the shadows, and Helen seems like the most likely candidate. Elias had his villain moment. His arc (while not complete) felt like it reached its zenith at the end of Season 4. Tell me it doesn’t sound like a Jonny Sims bait and switch to have our intrepid heroes deal with ‘The King of the Ruined World’ only to find out he was the least of their worries. 

Random, but if this theory holds any weight, I wonder (with the whole through-line that the fears are inextricably tied to humanity), if Gertrude accidentally helped Extinction’s ascension by feeding Michael to The Distortion. It seems horribly fitting that if in trying to stop one ritual she lay the groundwork for a power so disgusted by its own existence it had to become something else. Something with the potential to raze things to the ground even further and build an entirely new world unrecognizable to those that came before. 

I’d like to leave you with one last (and arguably weakest) point. Ha, but if that’s not proof I do this for fun, I don’t know what is. This isn’t an essay. It’s me rambling, and if you’ve come along this far I appreciate you as a human. All the same, I’d like to draw your attention to episode 99 - Dust to Dust. The statement regards a town in Oklahoma that was built on a lie, a storm that felt like the end of the world, and a man named Stefan Brotchen who became something inhuman during the course of events. While Gertrude mentions that the town’s foundation reminds her of The Spiral, she ultimately admits that The Buried more likely stands to be the entity at play. However the prevailing reality of fear soup doesn’t negate the possibility that something else could be in the works too. Something that starts with an ‘e’ and ends in ‘xtinction’. I’d also like to put these two descriptions side by side: 

“Stefan Brotchen was, to all appearances, much the same as any other Okie farmer: strongly built, with a mess of short, curly, blond hair and a round, smiling face. But his eyes were different. There was… something there. I-I was never quite sure what, but they had a depth, a quiet intensity to them that struck me the first time I saw him.

“He was tall, maybe six and a half feet? And he had long, straw-coloured hair that fell onto his shoulders in loose ringlets. His face was round and unthreatening” (MAG 47, The New Door) 

Funny that at the end of that statement a very human Michael Shelley interrupts. Like I said. Could be nothing...or it could be the kind of move a certain horror writer likes to play which’ll make you want to bang your head on a desk for not seeing that maybe Extinction has been hanging around longer than anybody noticed. Maybe it’s been a part of The Distortion all along. Maybe it merged with it’s sib during the ritual at Sannikov Land, and has slowly been splintering since. 

All I know is we have no idea what Michael looked like pre-transformation. We just have a voice on a tape. And Helen is up to something. 

[chaoslordjoe]

Bloodlines AU - Misfire

The following skit you are about to read is based on a roleplay between me and my friend @darksaiyangoku involving my BlackSun offspring, Alex Belladonna. Dialogue has been tweaked to break free of me and others’ usual transcript format.

Blake guided her daughter through a killing house constructed from a spare shack outside her family’s manor. Alex had her flintlock-esque pistol at the ready scanning the room, while Blake had Gambol Shroud aimed at their 6′o clock as they both kept scanning. 

All targets eliminated on the 1st and 2nd floors. But the clock was running as the third floor had one room left. With 50 seconds to go, they had to find it.

“Who’s taking which side, mom?” Alex inquired.

“You take the 3 on the left,” Blake answered when they stopped at the door to the target room. “I take the 3 on the right.”

“Got it, got it.” Alex replied with a nod.

Shifting Gambol Shroud into it’s kusarigama form, Blake swung it across the room being careful not to hit Alex or their her own targets. With a viscous shout, she went for the kill.

Alex peaked inside, twirling her flintlock and snapping her fingers. In it spawned an orb of ghost-fire which she quickly bounced off into the door frame and inside. But the fire didn’t burn anything up, instead it was meant to blind targets which thankfully affected neither Huntress present.

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

Blake was not impressed by her kid’s stunt. Sun immediately noticed when they came back appearing irritated.

“Okay...Let’s just take some space from each other, girls.” Sun offered.

“Yeah, dad.” Alex sulked, handing Sun her pistol.

Blake sighed. “I’m gonna go see mom for a bit, honey.” She told Sun.

Before Sun could ask if training really sucked that hard, their daughter went straight to her room while Blake headed to the gardens.

Inside the tiny greenhouse, Kali was busy feeding the fish. One of her favorite activities while Ghira was off on diplomatic work. Had to kill time somehow when your spouse is a politician.

Kali greeted Blake who sulked over to the bench.

“Great...” Alex moaned from her bedroom window, shutting it and putting on her cat earbuds booting up one of her RPGs on the computer.

“Hey mom.” Blake said.

“Is everything okay, dear?” Kali asked, seeing Blake shake her head. “Would you like to talk about it?” She then offered.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” The assassin answered. “Training with Alex got a little...Overwhelming.”

“Overwhelming?” The grandmother questioned.

“Well, no. It’s hard to find the right words, but the way Alex is progressing has me concerned. She’s way too comfortable using magic during combat, almost to a fault. It’s lazy and frankly, irresponsible. What if she ends up attacking one of her teammates by mistake? I got lucky, I’m not sure others would.” Blake rambled.

Sun peaked in seeing his wife in her current state of Blake-y-ness. In an attempt to break the tension he offered to check on their little girl after asking if the women needed anything.

Kali replied with some of her son-in-law’s famous banana cream pie. Going to check for leftovers, Sun then turned to Blake. She requested her husband to go fix up some tea. Soon as he left, Kali offered to go talk to Alex later on. To which Blake reassured that she could handle it.

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

Last she left off, the teen was fighting a loot boss. The Belladonna scion frowned, tail flicking along with her ears being drooped as she left-clicked away at the boss’ minions thinking about how upset she made her mother.

An hour after a kitchen search for leftover pie and some tea, Sun went up to Alex’s room, knocking on the door to see her in sad sack mode.

“Ale- -”

“SHIT!” Alex exclaimed, slipping out of her chair and dropping her headset on the carpet floor. “Ohh, fuck my life. Need something, dad?” She asked Sun while attempting to ensure her ears weren’t cracked.

“Yeah. How you doing, pumpkin?” Sun cooed.

“Eh. Tell you the truth, I feel like I really screwed things up with mom.” Alex answered.

“How much did you hear?” Sun continued.

“Enough to know that my training is probably on hold.” She bitterly answered.

“You’re not in trouble, honey.” Sun corrected her. “Otherwise you probably wouldn’t be farming this boss here. Also, Fire Resistance affix. Just saying.” He then joked.

“I tried using the best fire gem I got.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I’m guessing mom wants to talk?” The girl asked.

“Well, you grandmother does.” Sun replied.

Immediately getting the memo, the young sorceress gave her father a thankful kiss on the cheek going downstairs to join Kali in the gardens.

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

Seeing that the tea was ready as she poured herself a cup, Kali smiled at her granddaughter who was awkwardly staring at the floor, ears flattened.

“You wanted to see me, granny?” She asked.

“I did. Come here, sweetie.” Kali insisted, patting a seat.

While the matriarch swirled her tea, Alex’s ears seemed to flatten further expecting a scolding. Kali wasn’t always the fun grandparent, after all.

“I think mom’s angry.” The younger cat began.

“She’s not angry. Just concerned.” Kali corrected.

Shaking her head, Alex muttered something. “I can handle my Magic. I’m not- -Granny, I’m using it to- -”

“Can you repeat that?” Kali asked, cupping one of her Human ears.

“I’m using my Magic because I’m not scared of it!” The teen blurted. “Back when mom was feeling worried about if I had dad as my favorite, I overheard her talking about how it felt like she was scared of her own Semblance again!”

Although Kali was stuttered, she still offered a hug. “Oh, honey. Come here.” She said, embracing her.

“I like to show it off because I don’t want you guys to worry so much.” Alex said with her and Kali’s animal ears brushing up. “But- -I don’t know where to start with hiding it.” She admitted when they released.

“I never said anything about hiding it all.” The elder cat said. “I’m proud of having a sorceress for a granddaughter.” She admitted.

What Kali spoke of was the presence of magical beings in this post-Salem world of Remnant. In Ozpin’s ascension to the afterlife so that he could finally be at peace, he had made a deal with the deity brothers to destroy the four Relics, spilling their energies out into Remnant.

This ‘Reliquary Cascade’ had even gone so far as to bring back select magi from the old world before the collapse of the first iteration of Humanity. But in Alex’s case, she received powers of witchcraft from being near a shrine full of dark magics. 

The shrine detonated, causing her as a kitten to being stuck in a space between the spiritual and physical planes of existence on Remnant. Now, she primarily uses her powers as a means of crowd control with hexes, circles and lots of ghost-fire.

“I mean, I know the whole ‘secret society’ thing we have going on.” Alex continued, despite not being a member of it. “If I or any other magical kids show off our powers, people freak out. So I like to show it off in your company.” She then confessed with her shoulders slumping.

Showboating was one of Alex’s habits she picked up. Being a prankster like her dad, Sun, she always enjoyed a good joke or display of awesomeness. There were a lot of green fireworks on Menagerie’s day of independence.

“I get it now. We’re not saying to stop, just maybe take a step back for a bit during your training?” Kali suggested. “Your mother wants your physical prowess to be at peak condition. And your powers are wonderful, but it shouldn’t have to be your end-all-be-all style.”

“Right.” The younger cat replied. “I wanna be as badass of a swordswoman as her, if not more. I’m just not a kitten anymore, Gran. I gotta prove it. Was I lost in the moment?” She pondered.

“Maybe a little.” Kali answered with a nod.

“Clock was ticking, so I had to think of something. I don’t even have a good one in mind for blinking to a target.” She said in reference to her ability to teleport a short distance. “Did your Semblance ever scare you?” She then asked.

Kali gave a grim pause.

“...Very much.” She finally answered. “Alex...My Semblance was as dangerous as it came. You’ve heard about the myths of the Berzerks, right? The ones your Aunt Nora told you about?” Kali asked.

“You were one of ‘em.” She plainly guessed.

“Yes, and that was also my Semblance.” Her grandmother answered. Almost like a war flashback. “I was much stronger and faster but at the cost of my sanity. I would lose myself more and more every time I used it.”

“How’d you keep it together?” Alex asked.

“It took plenty of training, combined with intense meditation.” Kali said looking less horrified. “In the end, my Semblance was more focused. My sanity was kept intact and it helped me during battle.” She admitted with another smile.

“Was this before or after you met grandpa?”

“During, actually.” Kali answered, her old smile widening. “You’re not a kitten, Alex. You’re growing up to be a fine magi and Huntress. And we couldn’t be prouder of you for that.” She said, now grinning.

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

Finishing her tea and giving her grandmother a quick hug, Alex ran up to Blake’s room to see her less irritated on the bed and relaxing with a book. She tried knocking on the door only to step on a squeaky floorboard.

“I know it’s you, Alex.” Blake spoke without her eyes diverting from the book.

“You got me.” She said, opening the door fully.  “I just talked with gran. How are you feeling?” The teen then asked.

Blake still didn’t remove her gaze from the book.

“A little disappointed, I won’t lie.” She scolded. “You’ve got a knack for magic and I won’t forbid you from using it, but you can’t just throw it out there willy-nilly. It’s dangerous.” She then added.

“Yeah, I...I was being a moron about it.” She admitted. “I just wanted to prove that I didn’t fear my own powers. That I coulda used it in a...Clutch moment.” Her ears flattened as she confessed her mistake. “I just wanted to see if we were cool. And if we could try again tomorrow.”

Looking up from her book and sighing, Blake sat up.

“Alex, I understand what you’re feeling and that you don’t fear your powers. That you’ve learned to embrace them.” She said, holding her daughter’s chin up. “But using them too much is another extreme. If you focus too much on your witchcraft while neglecting your other skills, they can falter. You gotta keep in mind how others could be affected if any of your spells backfire.” She concluded.

“I can’t live with the idea of them affecting you, dad, Gran, or anyone else who’s not in my crosshairs hanging over my head. I’m- -Well, I’m sorry.” Alex moped.

And then, Blake embraced her kitten. “I’m sorry too.” She replied.

Their remorseful hug lasted for a minute, with Alex pillowing the side of her head into Blake’s chest with the tension gone.

“What’s tomorrow looking like, then?” She asked.

Blake smiled.

“Another training session.” She answered.

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

By the time they reached the third room of the killing house again, there were 20 seconds left. Alex noticed her targets popping up rapidly as if it were Whack-A-Grimm.

“Crap, I can’t make out which is which!” Alex exclaimed.

“Use those sticky bombs I gave you.” Blake insisted, cocking Gambol Shroud and firing.

Alex nodded, using some of her mother’s sticky grenades she borrowed. She chucked both and hit one target. Could’ve hit the second, but the buzzer blared with Blake winning the challenge.

“Argh!” Alex grunted. “Okay, mom. We’re even.” She conceded, inserting a fresh clip into her pistol.

“That wasn’t so bad, Hellcat.” Blake admitted. “Though, this is what you get for neglecting your physical condition.” She teased.

“Yep. Guess I’ll join dad and Yang in the gym next time before this.” The teen snarked.

“Well I don’t know about you, but I’ve worked up a good appetite. You hungry?” ?her mother offered.

“Normally I’d ask about kahuna burgers.” She replied.

“But we’ve got salmon fillets!” Blake beamed.

“Oh fuc- -Er, hell yeah.” Alex caught herself.

“I’ll pretend you almost didn’t swear, young lady.” Blake said with a glare.

“Yes, mother.” She said. “Let’s eat!”

[foolgobi65]

yeh rishtaa kya kehlataa hain

@allegoriesinmediasres asked for: Rama/Sita, travel!AU, friends to lovers, “you confuse me”

as usual, this is completely unedited and thus is probably chock full of grammar errors, bad characterization, and terrible pacing. but! it was fun to write on my end so as always if u want me to rewrite it I’d be glad to lmaoo. it’s super super super cheesy at the end...like the whole third bit is just super cliche but w/e i love cliche romance its all good lol. anyways, i hope you like it at least a little!! thank you so much for the prompt <3 <3 <3 

if you’d like to send me an au prompt from this list, please do!! 

(title is from a lovely ar rahman song from the movie meenaxi, and also apparently a hindi soap, meaning “what is this relationship called?” )

---

It’s been two weeks since the Raghuvanshi Group put out a notice that nearly brought the Indian manufacturing industry to its knees: Ramachandra, eldest son of Dasaratha Raghuvanshi and anointed heir since his very first breath, has been stripped of his VP positions within the company, his stock options, even his entrance card. The gossip blogs report that Ramachandra has lost access to the family accounts and family property, have posted pictures of the young man once posed to be the next titan of Indian Industry at a local branch of the Bank of India, handing over what is rumoured to be his great-grandfather’s watch as a starting sum so that he can get his own personal account.  

Bharata, three years Rama’s junior, is still in the United States working on his MBA: he has not yet been told of his brother’s effective exile from the family, nor of his own subsequent ascension to the position of CEO-in-waiting. Twins Lakshmana and Shatrugana, five years younger, are in London having just begun their undergraduate degrees. It was interesting, people used to say, that of the brothers it was only Rama who stayed in India. Rama who attended every company party and toured factories, solemnly noting down worker complaints on the weekends he could spare from his studies, in all respects the near exact opposite of his father whose four children are the sons of three women. 

Four days after the company announced its decision, Ramachandra disappeared from the public eye. It takes ten days, but Janaki eventually tracks down enough public and private conjecture to find him in a housing colony nearly an hour long ride from Ayodhya, the Raghuvanshi family home in the center of the city. The door opens, and Janaki greets the man who can only be Sumantra, Dasaratha’s long-loyal driver who had apparently left the same day as it’s once shining son. 

“Hello!” she says, palms folded and motorcycle helmets dangling by their straps from her wrists, “I’m a friend of Ram. Is he at home?” 

The door closes almost entirely. “Why would sir be found here,” Janaki hears from the gap, as Sumantra hooks the metal chain that would prevent her from barging in even if she was strong enough to shove aside a man nearly 50 pounds heavier than herself. “He is a very rich man’s son, and I am only a driver.” 

Janaki frowns. “No one is ever ‘only’ anything Sumantra-ji, we all do some type of work in order to live, and not one of these jobs is better or worse than another.” 

From behind the door, she hears the sharp exhalation that could almost be a snort from someone more given to expressing his own feelings. Janaki was right, then, Ramachandra Raghuvanshi who grew up on one of the most expensive properties in India has sought refuge in a home he could have bought on a moment’s whim only two weeks before. The chain rattles, and the door opens wide. 

“Janaki Videha,” Rama says, and suddenly it is four years ago and Janaki is again a student politician stuck in a hospital bed after a bad encounter with the police, flipping through notes meticulously taken by a classmate who insists on anonymity but could only possibly be the lanky, nearly silent boy that everyone knows will one day be one of the richest men in India. 

Normally, a person seeing an old acquaintance after a few years would speak their name, then utter some platitude about how long it has been since they last met and invite them inside to catch up. Rama, who is only capable of erudition in front of men his father wants him to impress, conveys the implication that all of these social niceties have been uttered without saying anything but her name. Janaki smiles, takes off her shoes, and walks in. 

---

“What are you even doing here?” 

Janaki raises an eyebrow, pouring a little more soap into the bucket they were offered to use for clothes washing. It has been a month since Janaki found Rama and told him that she was going on a trip, and that she needed male company to keep her safe. A month since she handed him one of her motorcycle helmets, helped him pack his single spare change of clothes and toothbrush, and directed him to sit behind her and hold on tight so that they might make it to another friend’s village by evening and have a place to spend the night. Together, they have followed the western coastline, trading off who drives when Janaki realizes that not only does Rama have a deft hand at the wheel, but in the proper circumstances can coax thrills out of her old bike that she hadn’t even thought possible. 

“What do you mean,” she asks, grabbing his kurta top from the pile of clothes he has slowly gathered from the families he has inadvertently charmed over their travels. He’s standing off to the side, hanging their host family’s saris to dry in order of color, taking the pains to smooth each piece of fabric and making sure none of them touch. In exchange for doing the family’s laundry today, Janaki and Rama are allowed to do their own, an exchange of goods and services that has served them well so far. 

“We both know what I mean,” she hears in response. “You’ve just been elected President of the University Student Union, your father is up for election this year, and even if neither of those things were important enough you must have research you should be doing instead of traveling the coastline with the penniless, disgraced son of an industrialist.” His voice is as matter of fact as it always seems to be with him, but Janaki feels an undercurrent of self-hatred at the core of his little speech. Still, she thinks with a faint flush, it’s nice to know that he has kept up with her just as closely as she had him -- though of course it was much easier to find information about Ramachandra Raghuvanshi, always in the papers at exact, two week intervals so as to prevent the creation of scandals to amuse the public with during a news drought. 

“I’d call your father a capitalist if I was really embarrassed to be seen with you,” she says back, “and there is more to be ashamed of in becoming rich through exploitation than in being poor through no fault of your own.”  

Janaki hands over his kurta, and watches him wring it out one more time with hands stronger than her own. He smiles slightly. “The revolution never stops, does it?” 

“No,” she smiles in return. “Not with me, and not, I think, with you either.” 

Rama looks away, walking back to the rope to hang up his shirt. “What do you know about me that makes you so confident?” He pursues his lips briefly. “We weren’t even friends, and still you’re here with me.” 

Why are you here, Janaki hears go unspoken, why haven’t you abandoned me as well? 

When Janaki arrived on campus all starry eyed at 17, she had taken the student body by storm. Blessed with a vibrant personality and the natural pull of a gravity well, she brought people into her orbit effortlessly, rising up the university party ranks within months rather than years of her peers. Academically, she was registered as an economics student, a category the papers said she shared with the Raghuvanshi heir who had created quite the stir when he took his place at an Indian University instead of going abroad. She had been doing quite well, she thought, until the exhaustion after her first collection drive in support of a local workers’ strike fund had caught up to her and she had slept through a full day’s worth of classes. Just when Janaki had been about to call up an acquaintance in their batch she thought might lend her notes, a folder had been slipped underneath her dorm door. Inside, a set of meticulous notes, and a 2 lakh check. 

“Isn’t the factory a subsidiary of the Raghuvanshi group?” Janaki’s roommate asked, turning over the check as Janaki flipped through the notes. Thank you for your work, they said at the top. Please let me know if the workers need more. 

“Yes,” she had said, “but we can’t tell anyone about this.” For four years she had kept his secret, waiting for his packages whenever she was detained, or ill, or beaten up and could not attend the day’s lectures. More than just a copy of the class outline, Rama’s notes were full of asides, connections, slips of paper clipped with outside citations when he saw something that could be countered, or expanded on. When the party canvassed for funds, her notes would arrive with another check, no demands made in exchange except a humble request to let him know if they ever needed more. 

Janaki looks at Rama now, hair growing long to match his new beard. Ramachandra Raghuvanshi had always been clean shaven, hair short and neat and slightly parted to the side in a way every girl instinctively knew must have been how his mother told him would suit. Her eyes soften. 

“You used to take notes for me,” she says, “Why?” 

His lips turn down just slightly. “It helped me study, to transcribe them again.”

Janaki raises an eyebrow. She remembers that the notes had always focused especially on areas she was known to be weak in, but she lets his half-truth slide. She has a better arrow in her quiver. 

“And the money?” 

His eyes are trained to the ground. “It wasn’t my money.” Well, certainly the last six weeks have made that much clear. But Janaki did not remember Rama spending exorbitantly in school: his largest expenses seemed to be the checks he sent her. 

“We weren’t friends,” Janaki agrees, “But I knew that you were a good man,” Janaki says, “even if you’ve had to hide it from your family your whole life.” She snorts. “And if we weren’t friends then, we certainly are now -- look, I’m washing your underwear right now, and if that isn’t friendship I don’t know what is!” 

The joke isn’t really that funny, but suddenly Rama bursts into laughter, loud and deep in a way Janaki doesn’t think she’d ever heard from him in class, on campus, even in the videos posted by the gossip rags online. 

“I’ve never had a friend before,” he finally says, and Janaki tries not to show her surprise or the way that makes her hurt on his behalf. “But I would be grateful to be yours.” 

--

Another two months pass, Janaki and Rama journeying up and down and around the west coast. Slowly, Rama starts to gravitate towards the work that he seems suited to do in trade for the day’s food and shelter, and Janaki watches as he seems to blossom in front of her eyes. Every place they drive into, Janaki begins to ask around and invariably there is a person who, more than needing wood split or clothes washed, is in need of a good scribe to write, in English, the details of their grievance against someone with more power than them. Rama listens, and writes, and accompanies men and women to go see a lawyer, or their landlords, and stands behind them speaking in that perfect colonial era British Indian accent he says he picked up at boarding school, making even Janaki squirm when she hears it. 

Janaki’s ideology does not allow for her to venerate colonial markers of class, so that squirm must be one of discomfort, rather than, well, --

It has been three months since Janaki and Rama set out on their travels, and time is running out for Janaki who really does have things she has to get back to: a student union to run, a doctorate to work towards, a father’s election campaign to help out with. But everytime Janaki thinks about waking up one morning without seeing him when she turns her head, the pit in her stomach grows larger and more snarled. She doesn’t know how it happened but somehow Rama has gone from acquaintance, to friend, to....to something Janaki can’t even describe beyond simply laying claim to the person at her side. He has become “her” Rama, even though she knows you can’t own a person -- yet Janaki is greedy, and when she watches the small smiles that their trip has coaxed out of his mouth, watches him bargain with their host so that she can eat her favorite vegetable at dinner, watches him finally fall asleep after talking to her for hours into the night and finally look like the youth he is, Janaki knows that she can’t bear to leave. 

“Are you angry,” she asks one day, passing him the newspaper cone of roasted peanuts they’ve been trading between themselves while they sit on the sand of an empty beach. There is no need to clarify what he possibly could be angry about. 

“No,” he says, taking the cone. “I obey my father’s will.” 

From anyone else, Janaki would laugh, but she knows that he speaks the truth as he sees it. The Raghuvanshis raised the perfect scion, a boy right out of those terrible 90s Hindi films who saw their parents as God and venerated at the altar of increased profits. Yet, they chose to throw him like yesterday’s trash -- but no matter, because their loss is Janaki’s gain, and she knows him, knows what makes him happy and sad, and glad and mad.

She knows, for one, that he is angry and that he needs to acknowledge it before she can ask him to come back with her and start over. 

“Yes,” she says, “you obeyed quite beautifully. That doesn’t mean you aren’t upset.” 

“Don’t -- I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work.” 

She turns to look at him, jaw already clenched where usually it would take five times as long to get him to this state. He’s furious. Janaki’s heart aches in sympathy, longing to gather him up in her arms and tell him that it’s alright to be upset, that it would even be right to feel so, to kiss away the furrow in his beautiful brow and brush his curls behind his ear. But that would only make him close up, so instead -- 

“Don’t what?” she asks. 

His entire body tightens, like a screw wound one turn too much. “I’m not upset,” he hisses, eyes flashing. “I’m fine!” Janaki brushes her hand over the one of his currently crushing the newspaper cone. As if burned, he lets go.

Sita sighs. “We don’t have to talk about it, but you’re clearly angry and it really isn’t healthy to keep it all in. There’s no one here at the beach, so I think you should just scream it out and try to move on with your life.” She’s not being entirely truthful, since she really does think he should talk about his family’s sudden and entire abandonment after years of encouraging near insane amounts of familial loyalty and emotional repression, but even this journey started out with a single step. 

“You think I should... scream,” Rama says, eyebrow raised in perfect, aristocratic, condescension. Janaki nods. 

“Just go out into the surf, scream at the top of your lungs for 20 seconds, and then we can leave no questions asked. I promise.” 

“You won’t bring this up again,” he asks as if to confirm the terms of a business deal. Perhaps that’s what this is to him, finally back on familiar territory. Janaki shrugs, ignoring how her heart sinks to think of him seeing her care as nothing more than something to trade in order to keep away. 

“For now.” At his frown, she shrugs again, allowing herself to smile a little. “If it looks like you’re struggling in the future, I’m definitely going to ask again.” 

For a moment, Rama’s eyes widen in ...shock? Surprise? Was he not expecting for them to remain in each other’s lives? Janaki can’t allow herself to think too hard or long on the subject, especially since Rama has, without a word, risen and walked over to the surf. 

He glances once over his shoulder, and Janaki waves in encouragement. He begins to scream. 

20 seconds pass, and Janaki really does think he will stop and walk back, brushing off any questions and wandering back into the village they’ve decided to stay in this week. But then 30 pass, then a minute, and suddenly Rama is just screaming, knees falling into the waves and hands coming up to clutch and pull at his hair and Janaki is running as fast as she ever has to crash next to him in the wet sand. She shifts sideways, putting her body perpendicular to his so that her back is not to the waves but she can still look at his face -- he’s still screaming, doesn’t seem to have noticed her body next to his, tears streaming down his face. Janaki’s hands flail, but finally she realizes that she can only rely on the instincts that have led her the past few months to find him, to drag him on the back of her bike, to tell him to scream. 

Janaki pulls Rama into her chest, her arms around him as she begins to weep along with him. Every time she tries to grasp the scale of the injustice done to him, she finds that her mind is too small. He was raised with every luxury, but with a conditional love that demanded a machine instead of a man. He’s stopped screaming, but has replaced it with gut wrenching sobs, hoarse from when his throat seems to have finally given out -- Janaki wonders when he last wept.

She loves him, she realizes, pressing an absent kiss into his hair. That’s what this feeling must be. 

“You what?” 

Oh, Janaki thinks, did I say that aloud?

“Ah,” she hears, “yes you did.” Rama raises his head, both of them still kneeling in the surf, tear tracks glistening down the cheeks he had just shaved at the request of an older lady who offered to house them if only he would look respectable. “Do you mean it?” 

Janaki swallows, the pit in her stomach as large as it ever has been. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be -- she was supposed to convince him to come back with her, and then later talk about how she wants to kiss him silly. 

“You want me to come back with you?” Oh for--

“Yes,” she says, confident that nothing she thinks now will remain within the privacy of her mind. “I want you to come back with me, and study to become a lawyer, and live with me as we try to make the world a better place.” 

Rama’s eyes are wide, and Janaki wonders if she’s ever seen him look so fragile. He sputters. 

“Fragile? I don’t look frag--” 

Janaki laughs, bringing her hand up to cradle his cheek, right thumb brushing gently against his cheekbone. “Alright?”

Rama swallows, blinking his assent as if he suddenly can’t speak. A minute passes where the only sound is of the ocean waves crashing gently in front of them, water periodically flooding them up to their hips. 

Rama clears his throat. “Do...” he takes a breath, “do you really think I could?” 

“What,” Janaki asks, “become a lawyer?”

He nods. “Everything. I...” he looks away, and Janaki feels the beginning of euphoria. In his eyes there is fear, but not dread -- he wants what she wants, wants it bad. “My entire life I was trained to bring honor to our family name, to do that by making money and keeping my family members happy. I don’t--” Janaki’s thumb moves from his cheekbone to his lips, before he can say something idiotic like ‘I don’t know how to keep you happy.’ Rama laughs, eyes glistening with hopefully something other than tears. 

“But I don’t know! Your needs are so different from the people I grew up with!”

Janaki leans forward until her forehead rests against his and their lips nearly touch. “I love you as you are,” she says, “the things I want, you’ve already given me.” 

She can feel his brow crinkle, pressed as it is against hers. “I don’t own anything to give you!” 

Janaki laughs: only the hideously rich could think so. 

“I’m greedy,” she says, eyes closed as wave after wave of happiness floods her exponentially like the way the water of the high tide touches further and further parts of the land. “I want things that you’ve given no one else -- your grief, and joy, and triumph, and failure. I want to wake up with you, and go to sleep with you, and make breakfast with you, and dinner too. I want--” 

Rama bridges the gap, and Janaki says no more. He gasps when they break apart, and a vicious part of her wants to ask if he’d kissed any of the high society women he’d been photographed with like that. 

“No,” he laughs, and Janaki feels another thrill to see it. “It wouldn’t have been polite.” He leans back, bringing up his own hands to cup her entire head in his palms, lips curved in a wistful smile. “Everyday you confuse me.” 

Janaki bites her lip when he doesn’t continue. “Do you like that?” 

He shakes his head, and suddenly the pit comes roaring back. “I think I love it,” he says instead, smiling still. “I think I love you, Janaki.” 

His smile widens, almost a full grin now. “My Jaan.” 

[cosmosrival]

hey ree!! i love your art so very much, it's lovely and it also helped me reconsider my opinion of kama for the better (their design really turned me off at first rip...) so thank you so much for that! tho what i wanted to message you for was to ask where i can read up on kama's lore and background? i don't follow jp fgo very closely so i'm not sure where to start and idk if just reading wiki entries for them would be very helpful. ty for reading wahh i hope you're having a nice day!

THIS IS... A MESSAGE SENT BY AN ANGEL I THINK???????? RIGHT AFTER MY KAMA RANT.....

THANK U SO MUCH FOR THIS, it means sosososososo much !!! and you’re very welcome !!! ;_;/ i feel you a lot because i used to be just like you !!! then i saw their third ascension and... Oh... Oh... The Galaxy Theme... me, a space nerd... i will look at them shyly from afar. i will just gaze at them from far away and not involve myself in the fandom......

......but then i was like I THINK I SHOULD DRAW THEM AT LEAST ONCE. AND DECIDED TO COME BACK FULL FORCE AFTER A BAD DEPRESSIVE EPISODE (with the help of some fgo mutuals too c’: ) and here we are!!! 

(i put u on my lap like i’m a grandpa telling a story) i’m going to be honest: there’s still a lot about the God themselves that i don’t know yet !! but from what i’ve read, their bio on the FGO wiki is actually pretty accurate when it comes to their backstory, their trauma and most importantly: their anger !!

FGO has chosen to focus on Kamadeva himself and the moment Shiva murdered him. Indian mythology can get confusing in the sense that: THERES A LOT OF REINCARNATIONS EVERYWHERE and i can barely keep track of them all (RAMA HIMSELF IS A REINCARNATION TOO) !! i know that kama gets reincarnated as well after his death, but FGO has chosen to simply freeze the original Kamadeva in time and add him to the Throne just like that. The FGO timeline is very different from the original indian mythology because in FGO, Rati who’s his consort and wife doesnt exist because DW wanted to make space for the masters to insert themselves !! which is why teaching kama about romantic love is the main drive point for master x kama ships !! and thats totally fine, kiss a horny god, BE FREE 💖 (but i think that bc of this, we’ll never have a Rati servant and i’m... :((( )

this FGO timeline can have its bad sides too unfortunately since DW has chosen to give kama a child first ascension to symbolize the different types of love (which is why theyre a lot less innocent in their final ascension) and obviously, it caters to creeps and i can totally understand why people would be put off by Kama in general because of this. it was a bad move for such a beautifully designed servant imo. which is why i’m going to keep away from it !! the only first ascension kama content you’ll see from me is just kama and ishtar acting like cute sisters !!

anyway !!

my main sources for reading about them are... their fgo wiki page since we all gotta start somewhere and this felt like the easiest place to do so!! 

their bond craft essence translation is also very interesting !! since their FGO timeline self is basically the main part of the cake !! THEN COMES THE FILLINGS 

kamadeva’s wiki page helped me quite a lot !! their french wiki page told me a lot of additional info not available in english and i was like :O !!! so if ur not an english speaker, make sure to check their wiki page in another language u know!! 

then ofc there’s tons of other websites u could check and read upon (AND ALSO !!! ASK ACTUAL HINDU PEOPLE IF U KNOW SOME THAT ARE INTERESTED IN MYTHOLOGY) !! for my part, ive been just scouting pages at random and looking up articles of their backstory and creation as well as the hindu god family tree... BUT EVEN THEN, there were a LOT of texts contradicting eachother and many sources that said one thing then another one said something else and... yeah. IT CAN GET CONFUSING VERY FAST

in some texts it says that kama is the son of brahma but in other sources, it says that kama was simply born Like That ? because kama (lustful love) is just a concept originally !! IT... IT ALL COMES DOWN TO HEADCANONS IN THE END, REALLY. 

it’ll always be a fun journey to find lore tho !! bc mythology is fun c:

I HOPE THIS HELPED U SOMEWHAT... !! if u have any precise questions about their lore though i’ll try to answer as best as i can!!!! and if i cant answer, i’ll ask one of my hindu friends about it !!! :D 

[alj4890]

New Year's Eve 

A Choices Fan Fiction of The Royal Romance, Red Carpet Diaries, and Perfect Match.

A/N For my bff @krsnlove and for all her encouragement over the past year. Don’t know what I would do without the gifs and laughter. Here’s the pairs she loves, meeting up for a special New Year’s Eve.

Song: What Are You Doing New Year's Eve

@lxaah11​​ @alleksa16​​ @penguininapinktuxedo​​ @blackcoffee85​​ @stopforamoment​​ @hopefulmoonobject​​  @krsnlove​​   @annekebbphotography​​  @gibbles82​​ @cora-nova​​ @bella-ca​​ @hopelessromantic1352​​. @sunflowergirl05​​ @desiree-0816​​ @greywitchyshots​​ @lilyofchoices​ @moodyvalentinestories​​ @emceesynonymroll​ @dr-nancy-house​ @aworldoffandoms​ @ab1901​ @pixieferry​ @flyawayboo​ @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​.

Masterlist

Part 1 The Invitation 

Cordonia, The Royal Palace...

"New York?" Maxwell breathed the words. "We are spending New Year's Eve in New York?!"

Olivia's lips curved in disgust. "Another masquerade ball. Can anyone think of something less original for the usual crowd of nobles?"

Liam flipped the invitation over. "It might be enjoyable. Hakim and Joelle have friends and connections all over the world. They will likely attend."

"More snobs." Drake muttered. "Happy New Year to me."

"Joelle knows a lot of people involved with the fine arts." Amanda pointed out to him.

"So either rich snobs or cultural snobs? Great." He grumbled.

"You are all missing a huge point here." Maxwell announced. "We are going to enter the new year kissing someone in New York! This is a game changer. I can feel it."

"Game changer?" Amanda asked. "What do you mean?"

"We," Maxwell lowered his tone to sound more mysterious. "Are going to kiss the one."

"The one?" Olivia snorted. "We're all going to kiss the same person? I think I'll pass."

"No!" His blue eyes narrowed at the smirk she shared with Drake. "We each will find the one right for ourselves!" He held the gilded invitation closer to the light. "Can't you guys feel it?"

Drake leaned back in his chair. "The only thing I feel is a long flight ahead of us to a crowded city that will be even more packed on that night."

"It says our hotel rooms have been reserved." Amanda added. "The ball is being held in the same hotel, so at least we won't have to try and get somewhere."

Olivia groaned while standing up. "Guess we need to go pick a gown."

Amanda sighed in resignation. "I think I might find a black gown. Reflect the color of my mood as I spend yet another New Year's not sharing a kiss with anyone special."

"You can moan and groan all you want, but you'll see. Everything is going to change for us." Maxwell predicted.

_________________

"Please." Nadia drew the word out in a slight whine. "Kai is going to be stuck at work. Please go with me so I'll know someone there."

Damien ran a hand over his heavily stubbled chin. "Nadia, I hate these type of--" he glanced at her as she gave him the sad puppy eyes. "Nice try. Can't we just stay in?"

"I've been invited to a party by a duke and duchess. A duke and duchess! Two people who are patrons of the arts! I have to go. This is a huge opportunity and honor for me." She folded her arms and lifted one eyebrow. "I had no idea you were so timid about being around rich and cultured people. If you feel you can't keep up with them intelligently..."

His eyes cut to her while a slight smirk formed. "Well I'll be damned. You honestly think I will fall for that technique?"

She huffed and got up. "Fine. I thought my best friend would be willingly to go with me and keep me from breaking down and calling Steve. But I guess I will just spend it here, in my apartment, thinking of ways to get my ex back. Probably drunk dial him after drinking a bottle of champagne by myself. Alone. In the--"

"I'll go!" He shouted. "Just stop the guilt. You're too good at it."

"Yay!" She hugged him tight. "Be sure and bring a mask with your tux."

"I take back all the times I said Kai was right for calling you a precious cinnamon roll." Damien muttered. "She has no clue how evil you truly are."

________________

Hollywood, California...

"This came for you." Holly dropped the gold envelope on Thomas's desk.

He set aside the screenplay he was reading and reached for it. "Thanks. Would you bring--" he paused when he saw who the invitation was from. "Damn."

"What is it?" Holly craned her neck to read the invitation. "Oooh, New Year's Eve in New York. Want me to book your flight?"

He groaned. "Yes. There is no way Joelle will let me out of this. Not after I missed the previous party."

"Who are you going to take along as your plus one?" She asked.

"No one." Thomas firmly replied. "I have neither the time nor the inclination for romance."

"You never do." Holly muttered. She pulled up some possible flights.

"I'll leave on the twenty-ninth." Thomas decided. "It will give me time to prepare myself for whatever Joelle has in store for her unsuspecting guests."

Holly nodded. "Sounds like--" she pulled her phone out when it vibrated multiple times. "We are coming with you. The duke and duchess invited Matt, Ryan, amd Jessica along too. Addison, Seth, and I have been added as plus ones." She smiled at his groan. "Sure you don't want a plus one too?"

"Positive." He replied. "I can escape easier alone."

________________

Shanghai, China...

"I won't make it until after New Year's. Mr Lee not only negotiated the entire deal, he then somehow managed to make me agree into taking his daughter to Hakim's party." Rashad explained to his business partner.

William chuckled. "I'm so happy right now that I have the flu. He probably would have talked me into escorting another daughter."

"I've never met her but I can predict that other than seeing some of my friends that this will be one miserable New Year's Eve. And to answer the question you're about to ask, I will not try and receive a kiss." He shuddered. "If she is anything like her father, I will have to run and hide at 11:59."

_______________

December 29th, The Four Seasons, New York...

Liam stared out of his penthouse's window. The lights of New York were beginning to become brighter as night fell. His thoughts were centered on Maxwell's prediction. He hoped it came true for his friends. He knew it couldn't for himself.

The last six months had been some of the hardest he had ever faced. His father's death from a massive heart attack had been followed by his brother's decision to abdicate the throne. Liam had become king before he had a chance to comprehend all the changes.

He was grateful for Olivia discovering a loophole in his ascension. He didn't have to settle for an arranged marriage. He was able to accept the crown with an engagement. He and Amanda pretended for a few weeks before ending the sham. All was done with little trouble.

But now...he couldn't simply meet a woman, ask her out, have romance of any sort. He had to be cautious and choose the one that would be the best queen. That's all there was to it. No matter how much he wished differently. This was his life.

______________

Downstairs in one of the bars of The Four Seasons, New York...

"I can't believe you managed to swing us getting hired as holiday help for the third year in a row." Daniel teased.

Riley laughed as she picked her tray up with the requested drinks. "Third time is the charm. We get to help out with some kind of pretty big party on New Year's Eve. Rob promised us all bonuses that will make us weep with joy for working that night."

"I've never been so excited to be single before." Daniel replied. "Hello trip to the Bahamas."

Riley laughed while taking the drinks to the different tables.

________________

Rockefeller Center...

"Beautiful." Amanda breathed.

"I'm freezing." Maxwell muttered, pulling his coat closed.

"Please." Olivia rolled her eyes. "It's barely brisk."

"It's a tree. You decorate like a hundred of these every year." Drake complained. "Why did we have to come out in the cold to see this?"

"You didn't." Amanda reminded him. "I told all of you to go on to dinner and I would meet you there. I was not about to come to New York during the holidays and miss this."

Maxwell checked his phone. "Liam is on his way to The Palm Tribeca. We should head on over."

"Wait! We need a picture of us here." She looked around and spotted a man off by himself, looking at the tree.

"Pardon me?" Amanda gently touched his arm.

He glared down at her. "What do you want me to sign?"

She blinked in surprise. "I was going to ask if you would take a picture--"

He snatched her phone out of her hand. He held it up and took a selfie with her. "There. Now if you will excuse me."

Amanda stared at him in shock. "I'm afraid you misunderstand. I wondered if you would mind taking a picture of me and my friends in front of the tree."

The man's cheeks flushed. She wasn't sure if it was cold, embarrassment, or irritation. Possibly all three.

He followed her over to the group and took the photo. "Here." He muttered, handing her phone back to her.

She looked at it and beamed. "It's perfect. You managed to frame us with--"

"Amanda! Hurry up!" Drake yelled out. "We will leave without you!"

"Coming!" She smiled once more at the man. "Thank you again and Happy New Year."

His frown eased. "Same to you." Thomas watched as she ran toward the man that was waving impatiently.

_______________

The Palm Tribeca...

"I know this is just so I won't back out of the ball," Damien took a bite of his steak, "but you have reverted back to precious cinnamon roll status."

Nadia grinned at him. "I never doubted I could." She looked up when another group entered. Her eyes locked on what had to be the most extraordinary set of blue eyes she had ever seen.

Damien looked over at what had caught her attention. "I'm starting to think that whole drunk dialing Steve thing was an empty threat."

"Huh?" Nadia noticed his dimples form right before he winked at her.

"Should I go over there and tell him you like him?" Damien teased.

"What? No!" She dropped her eyes and picked up her wine glass. "I was merely admiring, artistically mind you, the color of his eyes."

"They're blue." He taunted.

"They are not simply blue! They are..." She looked over at the man's table and quickly looked away when he caught her staring. "They are multiple shades of blue to create a color rarely seen."

Damien glanced over at him. "No, they're a basic blue."

"You're hopeless." She mumbled. "I suppose the work Michelangelo did on The Sistine Chapel's ceiling was basic redecorating."

"Well," Damien gestured with his wine glass. "You're not wrong."

"You--" Nadia narrowed her eyes at him. "You are trying to get a rise out of me."

"And succeeding." He teased. He motioned toward the other man. "Go talk to him."

"What? Just walk over there, interrupt his time with those people? He could be dating one of them! Or married! Have three beautiful children with those gorgeous eyes and dimples." Nadia sighed while slumping in her chair. "I am destined to be a tortured artist."

"You make more money off one painting than most do in a year." Damien rolled his eyes. "Nowhere near tortured status."

"Tortured in love!" She snapped then covered her mouth when conversations paused around them.

Damien chuckled. "I think you're tortured right now. Should I ask if there is any paper and pencils you can borrow? Maybe some crayons they keep on hand for children?"

Nadia covered her steadily growing red face. "That's it. No more special dinners for you. Ever."

"I doubt that. You love the cinnamon sugar doughnut holes here too much to not drag me along." Damien eased off the teasing. "Nadia, you know you're cute as can be. He keeps looking over here, just walk by and say hi."

She shook her head. "I can't. But I will have those doughnuts. Possibly three orders of them."

Damien reached over and squeezed her hand. "Whatever you need."

________________

In another corner of The Palm Tribeca....

"What are you going to order?" Addison asked.

Thomas diverted his steady gaze from the woman who's picture he took. "Er, my usual."

Ryan leaned over to see what he kept looking at. "That doesn't look like your usual."

Addison turned around in her chair to look at what they were talking about. "Not another red head. Wasn't Marianne enough to steer you away from fiery tempered people?"

"Not her, I was looking at--" he stopped right before he revealed what held his attention.

Holly practically climbed in Ryan's lap to be able to see. "Is it the brunette?"

"Forget her!" Addison softly squealed. "It's him! Oh my-- how do I look?" She asked Matt.

"Beautiful, but who is the man you suddenly want to impress?" Matt asked, not even attempting to hide his jealousy.

"It's the new King of Cordonia. You know! Liam." She sighed on his name. "Ugh. Pictures rarely do him justice. AAAHHHH!" She covered her mouth. "Do you think he's here for the same party?!"

Thomas nodded. "Hakim and Joelle are close to the Royal family. I--"

"I'm going to meet him!" She squealed.

Matt met her eyes and waited.

"You know I love you." She hugged him. "I'm just fangirling."

"Why don't my fangirls act like that?" Seth asked.

"Because you have to have fangirls first." Holly remarked.

"Good point." Seth winked at Jessica. "Iowa, when we get back home, remind me to add squealing fangirls to my list of goals."

She laughed and took his hand. "It can be your New Year's resolution."

"You're brilliant." He pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I knew I loved you for more than your looks."

"Liam's highly intelligent." Addison added. "He isn't just make you want to weep handsome."

"What kind of handsome am I?" Ryan asked.

"The usual kind." Holly told him. "I've yet to tear up over looking at you."

"Not even choke you up handsome?" He countered.

"There was that one time I watched a movie you were in and choked on popcorn." She kissed his cheek. "Does that count?"

"Definitely. I can live with being choke you up handsome." He wrapped his arm around her.

Matt tugged on Addison. "Stop staring and pretend you remember who I am."

She looked up at him and smiled. "I gave you my heart." She glanced again at Liam. "A few seconds doesn't change that."

"Guys we are missing the main point." Jessica interrupted. "Hunt has found someone he not only likes but has kept him from saying how ridiculous our conversation is."

They all turned their attention on Thomas. When he noticed how quiet it was he stopped looking at the woman sitting beside Liam.

"What?" He asked. "I'm ordering the lobster."

"Holy--" Ryan smacked his back in camaraderie. "It finally happened."

"What are you talking about?" Thomas felt a trickle of unease settle over him.

"You finally found someone who renders you speechless." Ryan told him.

"And deaf." Holly added.

"That's preposterous." He waved to a waiter and ordered an old fashioned. "I've done nothing of the--" he looked up when she rose from her chair and went towards the back.

"The word you're looking for is sort." Jessica teased.

"Nope, it's love." Seth corrected.

_______________

Towards the back of The Palm Tribeca...

Rashad tried to keep from staring at the young woman sitting across from him. The moment he had met Hana, he had been tongue tied and in a highly grateful frame of mind.

"Do you come to New York often, your grace?" She asked.

"Rashad, please." He corrected again. "And yes, I do."

"Is it still as exciting each time you visit?" She asked. "This is my first time and I am still in awe of it."

He smiled at her. "I guess since I usually come for business purposes that I haven't had a chance to really enjoy it."

His smile brought her own out, nearly blinding him with her beauty.

"Rashad!" Amanda greeted. "We thought we saw you." She smiled warmly at him and then Hana. "Forgive me for interrupting. But we were wondering if you wished to join us." Her eyes fell on their half eaten plates. "But since you are settled, I should leave you to it."

Rashad stood and introduced her to Hana. "She will be at the ball with me."

Amanda's eyes lit with interest. "That's wonderful. I look forward to talking more to you then, Lady Hana." She patted Rashad's shoulder. "Enjoy your evening."

"We will." He said with another smile at Hana.

_____________

"Well? Was your mission successful?" Olivia asked.

"Her name is Hana Lee. Rashad has completed a business deal with her father and she is now his date for the ball." Amanda explained.

"Forced to take her or happy to?" Maxwell asked.

"I'm not certain on the forced part but he definitely looked happy." Amanda replied with a grin.

"I told you!" Maxwell exclaimed. "Big things are happening here."

"For Rashad maybe," Drake argued. "The rest of us, not so much."

Maxwell looked over at woman he had winked at earlier. She didn't seem to be on a date with that man. Or was she? "It's going to happen." He told them. "Just you wait."

_______________

Outside The Four Seasons...

“I think I might go for a walk.” Olivia told them. “I will see you all in the morning.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Amanda asked.

“No. Go ahead and get some rest. I’ll be fine.” She assured.

A couple of blocks from the hotel, her arm was grabbed.

“What took you so long?” She asked.

“Maxwell had to reassure me that I would find the one this New Year’s.” Drake muttered. He wrapped his arm around her waist. “He doesn’t realize that I already did that quite some time ago.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “This sneaking around in the dark is getting old.”

Drake looked at her. “I thought you wanted to wait to announce our relationship once we were certain of our feelings.”

“I still feel that way.” She told him. Her red lips firmed in determination. “That’s why I am willing to be your date for the party.”

He stopped them both. “You are?”

HIs deep voice combined with that heated look in her eyes made her lips curve into a smile. “I am.”

He pulled her close for a kiss. “So am I.”

_______________

The Four Seasons, at a dark bar...

“You should have come along with us.” Amanda said, scrolling through her pictures with Liam.

“I had to finish reviewing that trade agreement.” He explained. His smile formed at the picture of his friends in front of the tree. “So you not only saw it but talked the others into it.”

She laughed and nodded. “They didn’t even realize they were talked into it.”

He moved to the next picture. “You didn’t tell me you met Thomas Hunt.” 

Her smile fell. “What? I have never met him.” She looked down at the selfie that the man she---”Oh no! No wonder he asked me if I wanted an autograph when I approached him.” She dropped her head on the table. “He must have thought I was an idiot.”

Liam chuckled. “I doubt that. After being in the public eye, he probably enjoyed the anonymity.”

Amanda shook her head. “I can’t believe the opportunity to meet him happened and I wasn’t even aware of it.” She stood up and waved him back down. “Enjoy your drink. I’m going to go bury my head under my pillows and relive all my mistakes in that moment.” She wished him a good night and left.

A new waitress approached his table and smiled. “Can I get you anything? Liz had to leave and I will be handling her tables.”

Liam shook his head. “Thank you though.”

She tilted her head and studied him. “I don't mean to pry, but are you okay?”

He looked up at her and paused. “I--I am. I have nothing to complain about.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t have a right to be sad.” She told him.

“Well, Ms.--”

“Riley.” She said with a warm smile.

He tried to gather his thoughts. “I suppose the new year approaching has brought me down.”

She glanced at Daniel and motioned for him to keep watch on her tables before sitting down across from Liam. “In what way?”

He rolled his glass between his hands. “The usual I suppose. Fear of making the wrong decisions. Wishing you could be reckless for a moment.” He looked up at her. “Wish you didn’t feel so alone.”

Her brow furrowed and she reached over and placed her hand on his. “Everyone feels that from time to time. And right now, you aren’t alone.” She gently squeezed his hand. “I’m here.”

His blue eyes seemed to burn with intensity as he met her steady gaze. “Yes, you are.”

[sweetness47]

When Tragedy Strikes

Pairings: Mentioned John x reader, eventual Dean x reader x Sam (also implied)

@spnabobingo​ – Pack life

@deanandsambingo​ – ABO

@as-the-saying-goes-bingo​ – What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger

WARNINGS: MATURE 18+ READERS ONLY!!! POSSIBLE TRIGGERS grieving, angst, character death, loss of mate, ABO dynamics, pack life, language, possible smut, possible fluff

final word count: 1249

It was a routine scouting party, routine mission. It was a regular occurrence, meant to keep the pack safe. Everyone came home, every time.

Except today.

Pregnant with their third pup, YN recoiled at the news, screaming in sorrow, anger. Their life together had barely begun. Thomas was barely 4, and little Johnny, almost 2. How was she supposed to go on without the strength of her mate? John had become her world, her life, and now he was gone? Just like that?

Condolences poured in, the pack also grieving for the loss of their Alpha. John had been a strong leader, and a formidable warrior. Word was sent to John’s two sons from his previous mate, informing them of their father’s untimely demise. They visited often, and were still invaluable members of the pack, they just didn’t live in the immediate vicinity.

Dean and Sam arrived two days later, rushing to their father’s home, feeling the emotional strain from their step-mother/friend. They were greeted by guards and beta servants who informed them YN hadn’t eaten or left her room since receiving the news.

Knowing she was heavy with child, they planned to go to her room after greeting their half brothers. Thomas and Johnny were beyond thrilled to see Sam and Dean, bombarding them with questions about where their dad was, why mom didn’t want to play with them or see them. Dean’s throat tightened, looking over at Sam, who was also at a loss for words. Together, they sat the boys down and told them their father had been called away, to the spirit animal realm, the place where the wolf packs believed their loved ones went when they passed.

Sam left the two youngsters with Dean and went to YN’s room. Upon finding it locked, he banged on the door. “YN? It’s Sam. Open this door or I’m gonna bust it down. Hear me?”

After two minutes of no response, Sam made true his promise, ramming the door with his strong torso, the wood splintering and cracking around the frame as the barrier went flying. YN didn’t even flinch, facing away from the entrance, unmoving. The only sounds were Sam’s heavy breathing and faint sobs. She was alive! Thank the heavens. Now to get her up and moving.

He walked over to the bed and sat down. “YN, look at me please. I know your grieving. I am too, but you have Thomas and Johnny to think about, and the one growing inside you. They are counting on you to be there for them, to guide them. You think Dad would want you to just give up? He’d be furious if he saw you lying here, ignoring those two boys out there. You know it, I know it, Dean knows it.”

YN turned to face her friend. “I can’t do it Sam. He was my whole world.”

“So, what? You’re just going to pack it in? Walk away from Thomas and Johnny? Kill the pup inside you? You think that’s fair to any of them? It’s not fair. In fact, it’s downright disrespectful, to them, to the pack, to us, and to Dad’s memory!” He paused. “Don’t make me order you.”

Tear-soaked eyes looked up at Sam. “You think I want to give up? I don’t! But this ache, the pain of the loss…”

“Will dissipate, with time. But not eating? Cutting yourself off from your sons when they need you the most? Not cool YN. C’mon. Get up, shower, dress, and come downstairs. I’ll give you half an hour. If you aren’t down by then, I will personally drag you to the shower and dress you myself if I have to.”

That earned him a ‘don’t you dare’ glare, but she began to sit up, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. “You’re an ass Sam, you know that?”

Sam shrugged as he walked out the broken door. “Yeah, sometimes, but a loveable one, one who’s heart is in the right place.”

He went back to the boys and Dean, and began to give orders for some food to be prepared for YN when she came down. He also made arrangements for her door to be replaced once she was finished dressing. True to her word, she appeared half an hour later, freshly showered, dressed, and looking somewhat normal. Thomas and Johnny jumped off their chairs to greet their mother, plastering her with hugs and kisses which she affectionately returned.

After that bombardment, she gave hugs to both Sam and Dean, greeting them as she should have done when they first arrived. Dean took over the preparations for the Celebration of Life the pack would have for John. Sam stuck close to YN and helped with his younger brothers. Sam also insisted YN go see the pack medic, to make sure the pup was fine after her two days without food or water.

After the all clear from the doctor, minus the order to not do anything strenuous, YN spent time sitting with her boys, talking with them, making sure they were ok. She helped them prepare for the burial and the life celebration, emotionally and physically. Sam and Dean provided the male support their younger brothers needed, instructing them what to do, how to act.

The rites would be performed, the passage to the ascension, the children bidding farewell and safe journey to their father. Dean and Sam would co-lead the pack, then the honor would be given to Thomas and Johnny. YN would still remain the matriarch, but as an Omega, she would never actually lead or rule, and she was ok with that.

Two days later, during the celebration gathering, YN went into labour. Dean volunteered to go in with her, to support her during the delivery. Sam stayed with Thomas and Johnny, helping them make gifts for the new baby. A few hours later, Lana was brought into the world, and into the pack.

A girl, YN thought to herself. A precious gift, one John would have adored. She smiled through tears as she imagined him fending off suitors later in her life, of how protective he would have been. He was probably giddy with joy, watching from the spirit realm, blessing both mother and daughter with longevity and health.

Celebrations ensued once YN was well enough to enjoy them. Gifts graced their doorstep daily for a month, tributes to the new princess, as was customary. All four brothers doted over their new sister, fighting to take turns holding her and caring for her. YN giggled, even Sam and Dean couldn’t get enough of their infant sibling.

Eventually, YN’s body healed from the birth, and soon she would start her heats again. Dean and Sam sat and talked with their friend one afternoon, offering their support for those times, and in return, she would provide relief for their ruts. Protection would be used for those times, YN’s time for births was no more without her mate, but heats and ruts wouldn’t subside for a long time.

It was hard to make that decision, but they knew it was best, both for the protection of YN, and for their family as a whole.

[shewhowantsmouseears]

The Little Peach, Chapter 7

Notes: As always, big thanks to my amazing editor, Drucilla!

Used an old storybit here, tweaked it up. Also put in a pairing I technically haven't written for before, but I plan to enjoy it to the fullest.

Summary: Mickey finally reaches the capital, but he finds more surprises waiting for him and his friends than he ever expected.

It took several long days and nights to reach the capital, with Mickey learning all he could from Panchito during every waking hour. While Panchito was very enthusiastic about having a student, the lessons were limited – without an opponent Mickey's size, they couldn't truly measure Mickey's abilities. Yet neither of them said this out loud (and Maurice smacked Marsupilami every time he tried to bring it up) and the training was met with vigorous determination. At the very least he could feel his stamina building and some small muscles beginning to grow – it felt amazing to get real exercise after years of being cooped up in his house and treated like he couldn't do a thing.

Even as they reached the large, red, imposing gates of the capitol, Mickey was still training, doing stretching exercises as he stood on Panchito's saddle. Numerous soldiers and guards were at the gate, and only when they inspected each person's head to make sure there were no Oni horns did they allow the group to pass – and that was only after Panchito gave them an inspection for any green feathers, which would have annoyed the guards if Mickey's incredibly small size hadn't thrown them for several loops.

“Boy oh boy!” Mickey said once they made it past the gate. “Would you look at all the people?” Even though he'd been secluded for most of his life and expected the capital to be a shock to his senses, the sheer number of people going to and fro among all the hefty buildings was still a real surprise. It was jam-packed, and some had make an effort to squeeze around a corner – though a few stopped in place, doing various double-takes when they thought they saw a peach pit-sized person on a passing horse.

“Seems like everyone's coming to the capital for protection,” Marsupilami mused, cupping his chin with his tail, “since it's one of the few places the Oni have been driven back. If it keeps up, the entire capital will be full of everyone from Japan. That means less food and roofs for everyone here, and it'll drive the people nuts. Stuff enough rats in a tiny cage, and they'll eat each other alive. The Oni still win.”

“Must you be so morbid, my friend?” Panchito tilted his hat up to get a better view of their surroundings. “One day, the Oni King will be defeated, and we can all rest easy again. Until then, we must keep sight of our current goals! Young Mickey will get the Lucky Hammer, and I will meet the man who saved me, and I will say to him...”

“Sir, I am Panchito Romero Miguel Junipero Francisco Quintero González the Third.” Mickey automatically cut him off. “I have come to you to learn your ways and repay my debt.”

“If it takes me the rest of my life, I will obey your every command, and make sure your fight was not in vain. Do me the honor of becoming my sensei.” Marsupilami finished, with he, Maurice, Mickey and Pluto all mimicking the wide and expressive gestures Panchito was prone to making.

Panchito blinked slowly. “Have I mentioned this before?”

“Only about fifty times every day since we met, but who's counting?”  Marsupilami replied sarcastically, having been convinced from day one that Panchito was more trouble than he was worth as a teacher. “I couldn't care less about that green hero of yours, but we need to think about how Mickey's going to get that hammer in the first place.”

Mickey climbed up the horse's hair to sit on its head and look at the tall, imposing tower where the Princess lived. The tower was surrounded by a thick, wooden gate at all sides, with several trees growing along outside. Some of the trees on the outside were so tall that they leaned over the gate, providing shade to the inside. At the front of the gate were two guards – one tall and lanky, the other pudgy and snapping to his comrade about whose shift was next. “Why can't I just go on over and ask them to let me in? Look at me, I'm in a very unique position.”

“No, no, no!” Panchito shook his head hard, pulling the reins to a stop. “We cannot do such a thing!”

“Why?” Marsupilami deadpanned again, sensing a disaster oncoming. “Because it's simple, and you want to do something needlessly complicated?”

Panchito ignored him as usual as he began to climb down. “If you want the Princess to truly understand your plight, you must make a good first impression! Show her how determined and brave you are, that you will let nothing stand in your way! Once she sees how courageous and resilient you are, she'll understand right away you must be given the right size! Do something that no one else can do!”

Mickey liked the sound of it – if the Princess' heart was truly as stony and steely as he'd been told, he'd have to think outside the box to win her compassion. What could he do that no one else could? He looked at the tower, at the gates, at the trees – and he snapped his fingers. “I've got it! With my size, climbing into the palace gardens will be a snap! From there, I can get into the tower with ease! She'll see how serious I am, and only I can do it! Any other person would be caught with just one look!”

“You want to impress her by breaking into her house?”  Marsupilami felt as if he was the only person around with a functioning brain.

This feeling was amplified when Panchito laughed merrily, hands on his hips. “Marvelous, yes, marvelous! And we'll help you do it! We'll distract the guards!”

“The heck we will!”

Panchito pulled his horse over to the clearest tree, with Marsupilami ranting and raving about a plan he refused to be a part in yet knowing he'd be dragged into, and Maurice and Pluto happily waved their friend a temporary goodbye. “You guys sure you'll be all right?” Mickey probably should have asked that before he started climbing the massive tree, but thinking ahead wasn't one of his strong points. He'd only made it up a few inches, and it was going to take some time before he made it all the way up and over the castle walls. Even if he wasn't the size of a peach pit, this would be a long, daunting task. But distracting guards could also be daunting, and there wasn't a hint of hesitation on any of his companion's faces – save for Marsupilami.

“Just leave it to us!” Panchito saluted, with Pluto and Maurice copying the motion. “We'll take all the time you need in order to convince the princess to give you the Lucky Hammer! Even if it takes all day and night!”

“Or at least until dinner,” Marsupilami added, his reluctant salute having a smidgen less enthusiasm to it.

“I've already got a plan!” Panchito continued on as if he hadn't heard his companion. “Marsupilami, Maurice and I shall pretend to be fighting over who Pluto belongs to! We'll cause a ruckus like the kingdom's never seen before! Now go forth, Mickey! And fulfill your destiny!” Eager to aide his friend and even more eager to cause some action, the energetic rooster was leaping heaps and bounds towards the castle entrance.

“Good luck, Mickey...I feel you're gunna need it,” Marsupilami said with a sigh, giving a wave before he left with Pluto and Maurice, leaving Mickey all on his own to climb the tree. As he watched them begin their bizarre performance, Mickey couldn't help but smile as he resumed his ascension. He felt very lucky to have some loyal and generous friends, and hoped someday he could return all of their kindness. He didn't know how he would, but surely that would come to mind one he was normal-sized. Yes, when he was no longer the size of a peach pit, everything would come easy to him and life would be grand.

It was this one goal that fought through exhaustion as he rose higher and higher on the tree, sweat pouring down his black fur. He wouldn't allow himself to rest, not even for a second, and in time he was rewarded with a view of the castle's interior gardens. Since the branches of the tree only dangled over the wall, there was no way to climb down where he wanted. Luckily he spotted a small pond right beneath him, surrounded by gray rocks. Mickey held his breath and jumped – making the tiniest splash imaginable.

Several of the orange and red koi within the pond were greatly startled, unsure if this was a meal or an attacker. Their confusion allowed Mickey to swiftly swim to the surface and climb out, coughing beneath his hand. Now that he was on solid ground again, he was in another pickle – the grass was tall, so tall that he couldn't see where he was going! He'd have to guess which direction the castle was in. Not that he'd let a silly thing like getting lost stop him. Once he squeezed his robes and his tail dry, he decided the best way forward was in fact going forward.

Fortune smiled upon him, as within seconds he heard two female voices.

“Did you hear that, Princess? I could've sworn I heard something in the pond.” An older woman who stretched out her vowels, a bell clanging every time she spoke.

“It was probably just the koi playing.” Smaller and more feminine, a dainty melody that was gently reprimanding her elder. “You're far too paranoid, Clarabelle. You just want me to go back inside. Can't I at least see my own garden once in a while?”

“Not while the Oni King is out and about! We don't know when or where he'll show up!”

The princess was only a few feet ahead! Maybe the gods were finally giving Mickey a break! He smoothed down his clothes, unsure how to exactly present himself in front of royalty. It wasn't something his mother had taught him, as no one in the family ever thought they'd meet someone so important. With his chest puffed out, he pushed aside the blades of grass ahead of him. The princess was sitting in a clearing where the grass was much shorter, allowing Mickey to get the full view of her.

And that's when Mickey's mind became absolute mush.

He had heard rumors of Princess Minnie's divine beauty, but they sure didn't hold a candle to the real deal! She was a petite figure, with endless black hair rolling at her sides, dark as the purest night, although an attempt at a pink-ribbon bow to control some of it had been made. Since she wasn't in the public eye, her face was free of make-up, though Mickey wouldn't have guessed it. How could such luscious red lips be natural? How could she simply be born with those soft pink cheeks? Then again if anyone took a look at those alluring eyes of hers they might not have any inclination to look at her face – after all, once you saw those stunning blue diamonds, how could possibly look at anything else?

Clothes weren't something of particular importance to Mickey, save for his own due to his height. Yet here he was, admiring the pink kimono with flowers that seemed to flutter with every sigh the princess gave. It was so long and intricate that he couldn't tell where her hands were right away until he spotted the illustrated book she was holding. She was sitting on her knees, a thick blanket spread out underneath her, and she was surrounded by more and more books, all the same size, along with a few sweets and cups of tea. Yet those lay untouched, her appetite spoiled by Clarabelle's constant worrying.

Not that he could hear the two of them lightly arguing. In fact, the entire world had gone deaf in Mickey's ears, and he completely forgot about why he was in the garden in the first place. He probably could stayed in that same spot and watched this enchanting royal, with his mouth in a stupefied smile and his body hanging lopsided oblivious to the world around him. But despite his lovestruck stupor, the world continued to move around him, and Mickey only realized this when a shadow fell over him – Clarabelle's foot, unknowingly about to step on him.

“HEY HEY HEY! Watch it!” Mickey ran out into the clearing, managing to miss death by a millisecond. The females momentarily froze – before Clarabelle let out a scream.

“It's a bug! Ew, ew, ew!” The servant was wearing a yellow kimono of far less expense, a cowbell strung around her neck. She grabbed her robe, trying to avoid the touch of the “bug”.

“Wait... Either this bug knows his vocabulary,” Minnie said, slowly placing her book aside after very carefully putting in a pink paper bookmark to recall her place, and leaning down to inspect the newcomer with big wide eyes. “Or it's not a bug at all...Oh my goodness! It's a person! It's a very little person!”

So much for a grand entrance. Mickey cleared his throat, standing as tall as he could, daring to look Minnie right in the eyes – though given such lovely eyes she had, this was a difficult task. “I-I...I am Mickey, and I am here for the Lucky Hammer!”

“A-ha!” Clarabelle got over her fright easily enough, now rolling up her sleeves in anger. “He's working for the Oni King! Don't you worry, princess, I'll get rid of him!”

Wow, this was going much worse than he'd planned – not that he had planned for much. “W-what?! No I'm not!” Indignant, he stomped his foot, demanding to be heard. “I just wanna get taller, that's all! Can you blame me?”

“You can't trust him, Princess! I bet it's a trick! I bet he's here to kidnap you and take you the Oni King!”

Minnie slowly turned her head to give Clarabelle a look of deep skepticism. “And how, exactly, would someone this small kidnap me?” This finally seemed to shut Clarabelle up, at least for the moment. As the cow mulled over what she thought Mickey's true goal was, Minnie faced Mickey again, a warm smile gracing her delicate features. “I apologize for my handmaiden. She tends to think the worst of everyone.” She bowed her head low in retribution, which made Clarabelle's fit even worse – Minnie was supposed to have a certain cold, hard image in front of everyone. Why was she suddenly acting like her normal self? Hesitantly, her eyes wandered to the books. Oh, she hoped she was wrong about her reasons.

Mickey felt oddly humbled, and he toed his foot in the ground. “Aw, um, it's all right! Really! I bet everyone's kinda tense what with the Oni King's doings.” He pounded a fist to his chest, determined to convince them both of his somewhat noble intentions. “I swear on all my ancestors, he's no friend of mine! He's just a big bully, and bullies are the worst type of folks! Why, if I ever saw him, you know what'd I do?”

“I honestly have no idea,” Clarabelle muttered, rolling her eyes.

Mickey yanked out his trusty sword – his mother's sewing needle – and wielded it this way and that. “I might be small, but I don't let nobody get picked on! I'd give him what for! Show him a thing or two!”

Minnie giggled quietly, hiding her mouth behind one of her extra-long sleeves. “It warms my heart to know that there are such brave people in my kingdom. I know that one day, because of people like you, he will definitely be defeated.” Once Mickey had returned the sword to his handmade scabbard, she placed her hands in front of him. “You said your name was Mickey? I am Princess Minnie, and this is my handmaiden Clarabelle. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir Mickey.” This came with another proper bow, and Clarabelle reluctantly did the same.

“Nice ta meetcha too.” Mickey chirped, feeling his anxiety lessen with every passing second. For a royal figure, this lady was rather nice. Combine that with her ravishing looks, and no wonder she was rumored to have a thousand suitors vying for her hand. Once Mickey was of normal height, perhaps he could be one thousand and one. He cleared his throat to try and chase that thought away. “I've traveled far and wide, across the scorching heat and cruel forests, all the way from my homeland to come and see you.” Wait. “Well, not you, particularly.” Dang it. “I mean, not that it wouldn't be nice to see you, it's very nice, nicest thing I've ever seen.” The anxiety came back in full swing. “...Can I start over?”

Another round of giggles came from the princess. “Here, let me see if I can help. I've always found it better when people can talk eye to eye.” She opened her hands, laying them flat with her palms up. Mickey hesitated, reluctant to dirty her hands with his muddy, wet sandals. He slowly walked onto her hands, and she felt him up to her face – wow, she even smelled nice. He was a goner. “Now then. How can I help you, dear sir Mickey?” Clarabelle, meanwhile, had picked up one of the books and was flipping around to find a certain page.

She called him dear – FOCUS. “Um! I, uh, that is...” Another hard shake of the head. “Ever since I was born, I haven't grown a single inch! Betcha it's not gunna take long for you to imagine how hard that makes my life. My own father won't acknowledge me as his son. But I heard tale of your family's most prized possession – the Lucky Hammer that can turn anyone and anything into any size at all! I just need to borrow it so I can be a real man.”

Clarabelle huffed and snorted throughout the story, trying to find a way to disprove it but coming up blank. As for the princess, her smile now turned into a sympathetic frown, her shoulders lowering. “I see...I am sorry for what tragedies may have befallen you, but I'm afraid I can't just hand over the Lucky Hammer.”

“W-well! I'm not sayin' you just gotta give it to me, I only gotta borrow it!” Mickey pleaded, his squeaky voice ringing with desperation.

Minnie sadly shook her head. “Please understand...on my father's deathbed, he made me vow a very important promise about the Lucky Hammer. I swore to keep it, and nothing and no one can break it. I must think of my people, you understand.”

Mickey bit hard on his lower lip. He too knew the power of promises – after all, he'd promised not to return home until he was no longer the size of a peach pit. But to have the hammer so close and yet so far was unfair. With each depressing fact, Mickey's body wilted more and more, and Minnie's guilt rose and rose. “Oh, Mickey...I really am sorry. I'd hate for you to come all this way for nothing...” She gradually began to rise to her feet, making sure Mickey wouldn't fall over in her hands. “Why don't you stay in the castle tonight?”

“Absolutely not!” Clarabelle interjected with balled fists. “He's an intruder!”

“But it would be terribly rude to send him back after he's traveled so far!” Minnie whined, already turning to the castle doors. “Besides, if I welcome him, he's no longer an intruder. Now he's my honored guest.”

“Oooh – Princess, one of these days, your good intentions are going to get us all killed!”

She had spunk, Mickey had to admire her for that. And it's not like she was a bad person – she just had her own duties to fulfill. Mickey wanted to be mad at her, but honestly couldn't. “Well, your highness, long as you're offerin'...my pals traveled with me. Can they stay over too?”

“Of course!” But now that gave Minnie paused as she began to look around for any other small visitors.

Mickey stifled a laugh. “They're outside, and they're regular sized! There's my dog Pluto, most loyal pup you'll ever meet. Then there's Marsupilami, smarter than ten men put together, and his best and strongest pal, Maurice. And then you got Panchito Pistoles...his real name is longer than most men's put together! You couldn't ask for better friends.”

“Now you've got me eager to meet them, sir Mickey.” With a bemused smile, she lifted her hands to her left shoulder, allowing Mickey to sit there instead. “I've been cooped up in my castle for so long that I've become bored to tears. I would love to hear about all the grand adventures you and your traveling companions have been through.”

“Then you're in luck, 'cause we've got tons of 'em!”

But before Mickey could get out one single adventure, one of Minnie's guards had rushed out to meet them. “Princess! There's a big fight going on, right outside of the palace gates!”

Within seconds, Minnie's face took on the serious, hard-laced appearance she'd been known for, and Mickey was so startled at the transformation he almost thought Minnie had been switched with someone else when his backed was turned. “Are the Oni attacking?”

“Oh, no,” said the guard, quite casual about all of this, “It's just really funny.” The guard then stopped, adjusting his helmet so he could get a better look at what was on the Princess' shoulder – doing so allowed Mickey to spot a hint of green feathers, and he wondered if his luck had returned. “Do my eyes deceive me, Princess, or is that a very tiny person on your shoulder?”

“Quick, you gotta meet my friends!” Mickey ran down Minnie's arm, using her hand to swing back so he could fly forward – the entertained guard held out his hands to catch him.. “I wanna check something out. They're... well, they're the ones causing a ruckus. Let's go!”

This particular guard was so lackadaisical that he really saw no problem with this, lifting his hand so Mickey could stand on his shoulder. “You know what? Why not! Today just keeps getting more and more entertaining!” With a chuckle, he headed for the front entrance, Mickey along for the ride.

Minnie was about to join them when Clarabelle reached out and yanked Minnie by the shoulder. “Hold it right there, missy. Don't think I don't know what's going on?”

With her serious act on, Minnie didn't face Clarabelle at all. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“A-huh. So you didn't just invite a total stranger to stay the night...” Clarabelle shoved the offending pages right into Minnie's face. “...because he's a dead ringer for Sir Sakura?”

Mickey had no idea how much he coincidentally resembled the illustrated hero, save for some exaggerated eye sparkles, long flowing hair, and the ability to cause flower petals to rain down upon him whenever he spoke. Aside from this, he could have been Sir Sakura come to life – not that Minnie was going to admit it. “Is he? How remarkable. I hadn't noticed at all.” Yet even when Clarabelle pulled the pages away, she still refused to look at her handmaiden's face. “Come now, we mustn't keep my guests waiting.”

“He's not Sir Sakura!” Clarabelle groaned, following after Minnie. “None of that book is going to come to life! Princess, life is not like a manga! There is no big love at first sight meeting with cherry blossoms everywhere while some handsome hero introduces himself in slow-motion!”

Outside, the fake fight had certainly become real for Marsupilami, who was being chased in circles by Panchito, Maurice, Pluto, and now the two outside guards, who had caught gotten up in the mess. The guard with green feathers, Minnie, Clarabelle and Mickey watched for a minute or two before Mickey stuck his fingers in his mouth and let out a high-pitched whistle. “We're good, guys!”

Marsupilami stopped in place – which allowed the five before him to crash land into him with several THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUDs. Mickey cleared his throat, a little embarrassed at the fuss they'd all made. “Whoops. Sorry about that. See, Princess, those guys are my pals! I wouldn't have made it here to the palace without them. Marsupilami, Maurice, Pluto, Panchito, we got some real royalty here! It's the Princess! And she's even allowing us to stay the night!”

“Remind me what the purpose of this was, again?”  Marsupilami asked with his face in the ground, leaving the other three to get up, brush themselves off, and bow with the deepest of grace, as if everything was perfectly normal. “Ah, yes, I see, the purpose was to remind us all that my life is just comic relief. Good to know. Don't help me up or anything.”

“Honored guests, eh?” The green-feathered guard repeated, amused. “Well then, we should all introduce ourselves as well! Aside from her royal highness, we have her lady-in-waiting, Clarabelle bow, and the men you just played with, Goofy and Pete!”

“Nice ta meetcha!” Goofy said, thinking that his concussion was the reason he saw a very tiny person on his fellow guardman's shoulder.

Pete sputtered at this same sight, pointing at Mickey with a shaking finger. “What are you– I mean, what are you? Is anyone else seeing this? I – YIPE!” Panchito, having no longer needed to put up a fake fight, began inspecting the guards for his real reasons, holding up the green feather, and this included giving Pete a good spin.

“Wait, wait, Panchito!” Mickey called out, hoping to stop his friend before Goofy got his turn. “This guy here has green feathers! And you don't have to turn him upside down to do it!” To make doubley sure, he turned to the guard, lightly rapping on his helmet. “Sir, do you remember saving a young rooster from some awful Oni several years ago?”

The guard raised his eyebrows, then cupped his beak, thinking. “It does sound familiar... I was a very young man myself back then! The castle had sent me out to help out certain villages, but I took so long getting back because I never could refuse a nice face in help. And... hmmm... yes, yes, I do believe there was one handsome fellow who actually argued about being saved...”

Panchito abruptly dropped Pete, his eyes widening, and he raced on over. “Is it me? I'm sure it was me! You must be the person I've been searching for!”

The guard hesitated, then held up his hands. “Hang on. With this silly helmet on, I swear I can barely see a thing. One moment!” It took him a few tries, as the darn thing was stuck rather tight, and when he finally yanked it off, it went flying, smacking into a nearby cherry blossom tree, causing the petals to swirl and sprinkle all around him. “There, that's much better.” He then shook his head, causing his feathers to flutter about, before fully finally facing Panchito. “My name is Jose Carioca, loyal retainer and guard to her highness, Princess Minnie. And you are?”

Mickey gestured outward with his palms, ready for Panchito to delve into his speech... except it didn't come. “Panchito? … Panchito, your speech!”

Panchito stared at Jose, mouth open but not a single word coming out. Because his feathers were already a very rich red, no one could tell he'd begun to blush, and heavily so. His fingers jerked in odd, twitchy motions, and when Maurice came over to poke his face, he didn't acknowledge it. “I... uh... ah... eh... um...?”

Marsupilami got up, brushing the last bits of mud off his tail. “Okay, if he's not going to say it, I will, and maybe I'll finally get it out of my head! His name is Panchito  Romero Miguel Junipero Francisco Quintero González the Third, and he has come to learn your ways and repay his debt!”

“Uh,” said Panchito.

Mickey decided he might as well help out. “If it takes him the rest of his life, he will obey your every command and make sure your fight was not in vain!”

“Uh,” said Panchito again.

“Do him the honor of becoming his sensei!” Marsupilami topped it off, with him, Maurice, and Pluto, getting on their knees and waving their jazz hands to make sure the show had all the pizzazz it needed.

Jose wasn't really sure what to make of all this, but boy it was entertaining, much more so than the fight! He chuckled quietly, then reached out, offering his hand to Panchito. “Well now, how can I possibly turn down such a generous offer? You seem like you've really become a soul worth saving! I am very happy to meet you again.”

Hand met hand, and Panchito's eyes rolled back into his head, and he went down like a sack of lead.

Jose, Minnie and Clarabelle looked to Mickey, since he supposedly had the answers to all of his friend's nonsense, but Mickey was just as stumped. He had no idea what happened to his teacher, but he put on a brave, albeit nervous grin. They had, at the very least, succeeded in getting to the capital and meeting the princess! Now all he needed to was get the Lucky Hammer! And to do that, he needed to be as determined as his friends, exactly like Panchito!

Marsupilami began to tie up Panchito with his tail in order to carry him. “Is there such a thing as a happy coma, because I think that's what he's got.”

…. Maybe not exactly like Panchito.

[lovehaswonangelnumbers]

New Post has been published on https://lovehaswonangelnumbers.org/blue-moon-and-full-moon-in-scorpio/

Blue Moon and Full Moon in Scorpio

Blue Moon and Full Moon in Scorpio

Via: Tarot Astrology

This year, the Full Moon in Scorpio – and also a blue moon – (Sun in Taurus opposite Moon in Scorpio) occurs on May 18th.

Since this is the third of four full moons in this season, it is known as a blue moon. The previous blue moon was on May 21st, 2016. The next blue moon will occur on August 22nd, 2021. This interpretation is valuable if we have in mind the astronomical definition of the blue moon: the third full moon in a season of four full moons, but referenced to astronomical rather than equal seasons.

There is one other definition of the blue moon, which depends on the Gregorian calendar and time zones. According to it, the blue moon is the second moon in the same calendar month.

The Full Moon in Scorpio – the realm of Pluto – helps us to understand that the subconscious mind is very real and that it influences us without knowing it. Instead letting it to influence you without any control from your part, you can start to train your subconscious mind and to use its power to achieve your goals.

We offer you a Zen story about the way that your subconscious mind can influence you. Then, you can see, how this full and blue moon influences each of the 12th zodiac signs.

Zen Story for the Blue Moon in Scorpio: The Subjugation of a Ghost

A young wife fell sick and was about to die.

«I love you so much,» she told her husband, «I do not want to leave you. Do not go from me to any other woman. If you do, I will return as a ghost and cause you endless trouble.»

Soon the wife passed away. The husband respected her last wish for the first three months, but then he met another woman and fell in love with her. They became engaged to be married.

Immediately after the engagement a ghost appeared every night to the man, blaming him for not keeping his promise. The ghost was clever too. She told him exactly what had transpired between himself and his new sweetheart. Whenever he gave his fiancée a present, the ghost would describe it in detail. She would even repeat conversations and it so annoyed the man that he could not sleep. Someone advised him to take his problem to a Zen master who lived close to the village. At length, in despair, the poor man went to him for help.

«Your former wife became a ghost and knows everything you do, » commented the master. «Whatever you do or say, whatever you give your beloved, she knows. She must be a very wise ghost. Really you should admire such a ghost. The next time she appears, bargain with her. Tell her that she knows so much you can hide nothing from her, and that if she will answer you one question, you promise to break your engagement and remain single.»

«What is the question I must ask her?» inquired the man.

The master replied:

«Take a large handful of soy beans and ask her exactly how many beans you hold in your hand. If she cannot tell you, you will know that she is only a figment of your imagination and will trouble you no longer.»

The next night, when the ghost appeared the man flattered her and told her that she knew everything.

«Indeed,» replied the ghost, «and I know you went to see that Zen master today.»

«And since you know so much,» demanded the man, «tell me how many beans I hold in this hand!»

There was no longer any ghost to answer the question.

May Blue Moon for Your Zodiac Sign

ARIES: learn to manifest your desires! Note your existing talents and skills and use them to achieve your goals.

TAURUS: you need other people in your life. You will probably have a serious conversation with your spouse.

GEMINI: you need to keep yourself focused at work. More passion for your job can lead to success.

CANCER: Try to overcome jealousy! „Oh, beware, my lord, of jealousy! It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on“ (Shakespeare, Othello)

LEO: you need to accept your past, even your past mistakes. Recognize you can learn a lesson from your mistakes and stop viewing them as inherently bad!

VIRGO: you have to believe what you say. Elsewhere, no one will ever believe you.

LIBRA: maybe this is the best time to turn your hobbies into services that make money. Start your own business!

SCORPIO: with the Full Moon in your sun sign, you wake up energized and you stay energized. It is important to stay focused on one task at hand and not to waste your energy.

SAGITTARIUS: make sure that your secrets remain secrets! Someone comes invited into your life.

CAPRICORN: manipulating your friends can bring you success, but it also can leave you alone. Take care!

AQUARIUS: try to improve your public image! Building better professional relationships will help you a lot.

PISCES: this is a good time for a deeply spiritual experience. Find your spiritual path and follow it!

The next Full Moon will be on June 17th – a Full Moon in Sagittarius (Sun in Gemini opposite Moon in Sagittarius).

Until then, on June 3rd, Sun conjunct Moon in Gemini (New Moon in Gemini).

The next Full Moon in Scorpio occurs on May 7th, 2020.

Blue Moon – Definition and Calendar (2020-2040) 

Moon Phases in 2019: Full Moon Calendar 

Natal Moon in Scorpio 

~~~~~~~~~

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[twopoppies]

Do you know any larry fanfics on either ao3 or wattpad with 20+ chapters?

Hey there. So, I actually don’t read anything on Wattpad, and I don’t often read fics with that many chapters because I worry that they’re so long because they need a lot of editing and that drives me a bit bonkers. Having said all of that...here are some that I’ve really liked that I hope fit your request:

Long Fics

Night Out and Saving Symphony Hall by @helloamhere (Symphony Hall Series: 4 chapters and 19 chapters –– 137K total)

Night Out

Symphony hall was the first place Louis had felt at home in this city, and he always had the box to himself. Until tonight.

Saving Symphony Hall

“I think I have an idea,” Louis said. Slowly, and reluctantly, but with a growing sense of the inevitable. “God damnit, I think I have a really good idea.”

“Oh christ, that's the problem-solving face,” Babs said. “Last time we saw that face, he sold a company.”

“Wait, what?” Zayn asked.

“Right place, right time,” Louis said. “Also, fuck my life,”

“What?” Zayn repeated. Niall patted his hand.

“I usually just roll with whatever Louis is about to do,” he said. “It’s better for us all.”

“That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”

Yellow by 13ways / @13ways-of-looking (19 chapters –– I’m cheating because this one is amazing)

The city of Gotham turns blood red with a new, mysterious criminal element, a beautiful woman named the Blind Cupid.

She threatens to tear the fabric of the city apart, aided by her deadly protégé, the Cat.

Can Batman stop them?

Will he resist the bewitching allures of the Cat?

A Batman/ Catwoman AU

No One Does It Better by nodibs (22 chapters)

Harry's an alcoholic and Louis is a bartender. The first time they meet isn't the first time they've met.

This got longer than I expected so the rest in under the cut

Victorian Boy by DonnaHaywardsHead (29 chapters)

Victorian AU. Harry the virgin Duke of Somerset knows little of love, while Louis the sly Duke of Warwick knows too much. When the two dukes come together for the Bilsdale fox hunt in York, Harry finds himself drawn into Louis' bed. But when secrets from Louis' dark past come to light, Harry fears that the fox isn't the only one being hunted.

Young & Beautiful by velvetoscar (34 chapters)

Louis, to his horror, attends an elitist university in which the name Zayn Malik means something, Niall Horan doesn't stop talking, there are pianos everywhere, and Harry Styles, only son of a drug-addled, clinically insane ex-rocker, has a perfect smile and empty eyes.

Gods & Monsters by velvetoscar (20 chapters)

The instructions were simple: seduce and destroy Harry Styles. Not once did they discuss the option of Louis actually falling in love. So, naturally, that's exactly what he did.

These are some I really like that don’t have a lot of chapters but have a really high word count, so you might like them as well.

Domestic Monsters by @g-uttertrash (9-part series - 234K total )

Part 1: come on, jump out at me

Harry is a witch from a long line of power, an ancient line that’s one of the strongest left alive in their hemisphere. He can cast spells without a word if need be, fly on a broomstick, and has a black cat (a kitten, really) named Felix that is his animal familiar. He can shape galaxies in his cupped hands and can destroy them just as easily. He can choose exactly how to use his power, for encouragement and support, or for more nefarious causes if he wishes to.

And as fate would have it, he’s scared of haunted houses.

(Harry is a witch who carries around a stuffed pumpkin, Louis is a vampire with too much time on his hands, and their best mates Zayn & Niall aren't exactly what they seem...

Never Never Never Stop for Anyone (Sheylinsonverse) by aimmyarrowshigh spibsy (Lucy and Ramona) (430K over 10 chapters –– read the tags on this. It’s polyamory/BDSM)

Part 1: The World, It’s Turning Inside Out

The night before the first live show of X Factor's ninth series, George meets Harry and Louis in a nightclub.

Lightening Strikes Twice by dinosaursmate / @catfishau (104K)

“Louis Tomlinson,” Harry said slowly, shaking his head and betraying a slight grin. “What the fuck are the odds?”“Small world,” Louis said lightly, shrugging and holding his hand out to Harry, smirk playing on his lips. “Wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”“Haha! Please.”Harry slid his palm into Louis’, grasping and shaking it. It must’ve been… what? Thirty years?---Two tales, one story. One: a tale of a rock star taking a shine to a fan who is different from all the others, and two: a tale of an older, washed up rock star, who - on the brink of resigning himself to a life of loneliness - finds fate intervening.

For Reasons Wretched and Divine by @indiaalphawhiskey (94K)

Ten years ago, Harry Styles was just a nerdy kid with one friend and a debilitating crush on the captain of his school’s football team. He thought the stars were smiling down on him the day he and Louis Tomlinson were paired for their end-of-term Literature project. But because Harry’s life is decidedly not a fairytale, the budding friendship quickly leads to the least happy ending of all time.

Now, Harry Styles is a household name. Barely twenty-seven with two Grammy nominations to his name, the singer-songwriter is poised to take the music industry by storm with his highly anticipated third album. So, what happens when the best producer in the business is also the only person Harry’s vowed never to speak to again?

An AU in two parts. Two boys, two stories, and hopefully, two chances at love.

(Take Me Home) Country Roads by Awriterwrites / @a-writerwrites (86K)

“Sir, I can help you. Just let me — “ He tried moving closer but the eldest child blocked his way. He backed off, putting his hands out in a passive gesture. “I’m a physician. I can help,” he tried again.

The man shook his head vehemently, passing the cup back to his grandchild. “Tol’ ya. Don’t need ya.” All of the fire had gone out of his voice, leaving behind a frail, sick old man with barely any breath to talk.

“I have medicines...I could make you comfortable…” Louis’ voice was still small, but pleading.

“Mountain Mama cares for wha’s ailin’ me. Don’t need no fancy city doctors.”

Louis blinked at the man, still shaking from the coughing spell. Mountain — well, fuck. That backwoods, uneducated scam artist…

“Of course he is,” Louis said curtly.*****OR a Northern Exposure AU featuring Louis as the big city doctor, Harry as a natural healer, Niall as a secretive barkeep, Liam and Zayn head over heels for each other but they don't know it and a lot of hurt, comfort and moonshine in between.

Atlas At Last by @louisandthealien (84K)

He doesn’t know what he had been expecting out of the road trip itself besides burping contests and too much shitty gas station food with Oli and Stan, but in the brief moment before Harry ambles up his driveway, Louis idly wonders if this is about to become some sort of Gay Coming of Age story.

Maine to California in ten days. In which Zayn’s an open-shirt hippie they meet somewhere in Ohio, Liam’s the pastor’s son running away from home, and Niall’s the number they call on the bathroom wall.

It’s 1978. Harry and Louis are just trying to get to San Fran in time for the Queen concert.

Take My Breath Away by @realitybetterthanfiction (153K)

There is a prestigious school in the British Royal Navy classified as Premier Delta - or as it is known by its flyers, 1D. These select pilots are an elite set of Naval lieutenants who are trained in the skill of aggressive aerial combat. They are instruments of war, trained in times of peace. They are dogfighters, relentless and fearless in their mission to protect their beloved country. From their lofty vantage, they are always watching, waiting, and ready to lay it all on the line.

Lt. Harry Styles, call sign Sparrow, is a prodigy when it comes to flying. The owner of an unrivaled Naval pedigree, being a pilot was always written in the stars for Harry. With his trusty RIO, Lt. Niall Horan, Harry has made an unprecedented ascension in the ranks of the Naval aerial combat elite, and has been recruited to the esteemed Premier Delta flight school, carrying on his family’s legacy. What he finds there are unexpected friendships, perilous challenges, and something beyond what he ever thought possible. Because as his father had always told him, before the great Captain Styles went tragically missing in combat, you don’t fall in love with the sky, you fall in love with what keeps you on the ground.

I hope that gives you some fics you haven’t read before! Enjoy!