#i've never done a master post before
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mariocki · 9 months ago
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Roger Delgado makes a brief appearance as an unnamed but helpful Argentine diplomat, in Overseas Press Club - Exclusive!: Two Against the Kremlin (1.13, ABPC, 1957)
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camellcat · 11 months ago
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Summary: If it were the Doctor, she'd almost say he was absentmindedly playing with the chain of her dimension cannon — fingers gently sliding up and down, tugging lightly before letting it fall back into place, rinse and repeat — but she was viscerally aware that every move they made had more meaning than she could even comprehend at times. Rose swallowed hard and felt him bare his teeth, pleased.
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Dropped straight in the middle of a conversation (or more accurate, argument), just a snapshot of the first time Rose says the Master's name aboard the Valiant
(full fic below if you'd rather read on tumblr! ↓)
She barked out an incredulous laugh. "If you really think he'd let you anywhere near his TARDIS then you really are crazy, M—"
Rose cut herself off and his face lit up in a twisted sort of glee. He pressed her harder against the wall, most definitely leaving bruises on her back and shoulders that she'd be feeling later.
"Say my name," he taunted. She tucked in her lips as feeble show of defiance. The smirk he was wearing disappeared and he leaned in, crowding her.
"Go on," he crooned, voice mockingly soft as he commanded her. Hot breath blew across her cheeks and she resisted the urge to squirm, refusing to give him the satisfaction of getting to see her nervous, even if she already knew that he could tell.
"Say it," his lip curled as he hissed the words. Her eyes squeezed shut without her permission, recoiling in the only way her body thought it safely could.
She had planned on keeping her mouth shut, ready to simply wait until it was time for her to be sent back, but then she felt one of his hands loosen their immobilizing grip on her shoulder and slide just beneath the collar of her shirt. If it were the Doctor, she'd almost say he was absentmindedly playing with the chain of her dimension cannon — fingers gently sliding up and down, tugging lightly before letting it fall back into place, rinse and repeat — but she was viscerally aware that every move they made had more meaning than she could even comprehend at times. Rose swallowed hard and felt him bare his teeth, pleased.
"Say my name."
Slowly, she opened hazel eyes and leveled a piercing glare back into his darker own, trying not to go cross from how close their faces were.
"Master," she choked out in disgust. Brown disappeared behind pale lids and he gave her an overdramatic shiver, one she fought hard not to replicate. Bumping his nose against hers in faux familiarity, he let go of the chain, as if rewarding her, and she had half a mind to see if she could bite him quick enough that he wouldn't be able to catch her.
He leaned away from her before she could follow through, as though he could sense what she had been contemplating, and she would've snickered if she wasn't palpably seething.
"Now then," the Master began with a lightheartedness neither of them possessed around each other, ever, "that wasn't so hard, was it, Rose Tyler?"
He rolled her name off his tongue with an amount of venom she'd never actually heard from him before, matching her one-for-one. As though he didn't really mean it. As though he really was just matching her.
Great. Another frustrating, power play game she didn't know the rules to.
When she didn't respond, he cocked his head and pitched up his voice in what, she supposed, was a poor imitation of her. "No, Master, not at all! H—"
A muffled beeping sounded off from around her chest and he stopped. She took an instinctual glance down toward the sudden noise, before snapping wide eyes back to him when she felt the pressure on her begin to let up.
"Well," he sighed, as if disappointed she would be leaving him, "I guess that's our time, up."
He took a few steps back and she carefully followed, just far enough to get her back off the wall. The Master raised an amused eyebrow at her caution and she scowled in return.
"Until we meet again?" He said. Though it was phrased like a question, they both knew there would be a next time, whether it was wanted or not.
"Not if I can help it," Rose spat furiously, pulling the cannon from her shirt and slamming the button right in front of him.
The air seemed to crackle from where she had disappeared, and he lingered a few moments longer.
"Oh, Rose." He really did try to say her name all low and menacing — aiming for that classic, villainous drawl — but he couldn't help the way manic giggles seemed to burst free from behind his lips. "You can't!"
Spinning on his heel, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his slacks and strolled down the corridor, away from the main bridge area and down. The methodical clacking of dress shoes on pristine, smooth floors morphed into echoed clangs of metal grating as he got to lower, less used parts of the ship. Reaching a seemingly innocuous hallway among the many that weaved around and about, he took a sharp turn into an almost unnoticeable offshoot. Swinging open a pair of plain, silver doors, he gazed upon the Doctor's groaning, mutilated TARDIS, and grinned.
That stupid ape of a girl didn't have a single, damn clue.
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kathaynesart · 8 months ago
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The eye of the hurricane. I like to think Cassandra sometimes called the brothers by the nicknames their dad used, given they were probably pretty close before his passing.
BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT MASTER POST
Man oh man, this one was way messier and off model than my last few updates but whatever, we got to keep this ball rolling! Life's been crazy so I've had to take some unwanted breaks in between updates. Thanks everyone for your patience as always!
One thing I wanted in this flashback was to really get a sense of how the brothers worked as an experienced team with Leo at the helm as a proper leader. It's something we never got to see much of in Rise and I felt it was important to include since half the team is already gone by the time of Replica. Team Dynamics Ted Talk under the cut!
We know from Casey Jr that Leo stressed the importance of listening to your team. A big part of that also means knowing how to communicate with them in general.
With Michelangelo, he keeps it short and succinct, trusting his brother to know what he's doing when in his element. This trust goes a long way with Mikey, having spent years of his youth as the baby striving for the respect he felt he deserved. Leo knows it's best to not bog Mikey down with details, allowing him to improvise as needed. This unspoken freedom has only grown over time as Mikey has dipped deeper into spiritual arts that, frankly, go completely over Leo's head.
The greatest sacrifice Leo has ever made was read Donnie's Big Book of Bad Guy Codes. While he doesn't remember ALL the numbers, he has memorized the ones that matter and it has helped tremendously in avoiding miscommunication with his genius brother. More importantly it silenced any of Donnie's usual belly-aching. As Leo's "twin"/"equal" the two still butt heads from time to time. Donnie respects his brother's authority (mostly) but will still push the boundaries of what he's allowed on a semi-regular basis. Give Donnie an inch and he will take the mile and then find a loop hole that allows him to go twenty miles more. This is partially due to him often being the one left behind at HQ, making the turtle just a TAD stir crazy. Leo does his best to keep him in line regardless.
Big brother Raph will forever and always be big brother to Leo. As such he holds a place of authority in Leo's heart and is someone he still regularly seeks counsel from in both the ways of leadership and more. Raph is always happy to support his younger brother and does a surprisingly good job (albeit after years of practice) of walking the line so as not to step on his brother's toes in the process. At least not since the secret of "the Key" blew up in their faces several years ago. They don't talk about that anymore. Leo is the leader now and he's done a great job in recent years as far as Raph is concerned. He trusts him to make the right call. The two have a close bond and regularly use mind meld to quickly communicate rather than speak ...this will be important to remember for the future.
Hope that overall feeling came through for this group!
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maximumzombiecreator · 4 months ago
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I've seen a lot of posts recently where people say they can't find players to play non-5e TTRPGs with. As someone who moves countries every few years, I've had to rebuild my roster of local TTRPG players from scratch a number of times. Here's how I do it.
Caveats first: while I've done this in small cities, I have always done it in cities. If you're in, like, a rural environment, you might just not have enough interested people around. You can always do it online in that case. I'm not really going to cover finding players online, except to say you should probably look for communities for the specific system you want to play. Most of them are enthusiastically looking for new participants. Especially game masters.
Okay, first things first, you gotta find people. I generally find I get better results if the search is location first. That is, rather than using city-wide or regional Looking For Group type internet groups, I look for physical locations that host gaming groups. Local game stores, public libraries, gaming cafes/bars, etc.
Being location first helps avoid some common bad behaviours. Online LFG groups often have a few shitty people hanging around who can't find long term groups because they're shitty. They'll jump at the opportunity to join new groups where people don't know them, because everyone else knows better than to game with them. But location-based groups are better at filtering this. Someone who harasses people at an LGS can be banned from the store, but decentralized online groups struggle to handle these situations in my personal experience.
Being location first also solves the next problem, which is giving you a location to play. Eventually, when I have a long term group, I'll host games in my home. But there needs to be a level of trust before that feels safe, and we're looking for randoms, so for now we need a public gaming venue. If, for whatever reason, there aren't dedicated gaming spaces where you can do this, I've had the most success gaming in cafes or restaurants during off peak hours. I've run a bunch of games in restaurants from, like, 2pm-5pm on a Saturday, and as long as you're buying drinks and some snacks or something, and being polite and non-disruptive, it's typically not too hard to get permission.
Now, if that local group has enough interest in a non-5e system that I'm interested in running, I'll happily do that, and it's pretty free from there. Most people who are willing to play one other system will gladly try others if they find they like playing with you. But even in big cities, I feel it's pretty often the case that postings for local games of other systems don't wind up actually finding successful groups.
So, here is the bit where, unfortunately, finding people to play non-5e games with involves playing some 5e. Community groups are always looking for more GMs to run games, so I will set out to run a number of short 5e adventures, each with different groups. These are typically oneshots that I have the option of extending for another 1 or 2 sessions.
I always run adventures that I've written myself for these, because I want my particular GMing style to really come through. Looking for players is a two way street. I'm looking for people I like GMing for, but I'm also looking to make sure they know what they're getting. Especially if I'm going to ask them to play a system they've never tried, they should know that there's going to be something they enjoy. So, these short adventures are full of the types of silly but sincere NPCs I tend to run, the open-ended scenarios I prefer, the tropes I favour, etc. If someone isn't going to enjoy playing with me, I want them to know it from this adventure.
I structure the adventures to give me a lot of flexibility in terms of how long they run. They're nearly always mysteries, but with some active component to the mystery, so that if things drag or dawdle I can have the villain show up and force a final confrontation. They're also structured to have a natural "next thing." You find and defeat the villain, but there's an implied next villain you'll be going after. That way, if the group is working well and I want to continue, it's easy to present the option to the group. But if I'm not interested in continuing with the group, the next thing can just serve as an "and the adventures continue" implied epilogue, and the game still feels complete.
I don't like players just bringing their own character sheet to the table. Someone who brings a disruptive character can ruin a session without me getting much useful information out of it, other than that I don't want to play with that person. And if it ruins the experience for the other players, I'm often out the opportunity to game with those people, through neither of our faults. I've experimented with both asking players to submit their characters in advance or making them choose between a collection of premade characters. The former is a good check for whether people will put in a basic amount of effort and follow instructions, but it can dissuade people who are just looking to dip their toes into playing for the first time. The latter can turn off players who are into crunchy games and are excited about character building. As a result, I'll usually choose the approach based on what non-5e system I'm currently most excited about running. Do I want to get together a group for a rules-light game? Premade characters it is. Looking to run some PF2e? Please submit your character sheet in advance. Some locations also do more drop-in based games, in which case it's premades all day.
As I'm running the game, I'm observing the players. There's a simple vibe check, obviously. Do I like playing with this person? But I'm also looking at how they play. What are they here for, what's exciting them? Are they struggling with finding optimal turns in combat, or do they like mastering a system? Are they curious about the world, or do they glaze over when the spotlight isn't on them? Do they light up in dialogue scenes? Do they want to try crazy things outside of their on-sheet abilities? Remember, later, I'm going to try to persuade this person to try to play a game they've never played before. I need to know what specifically is going to excite them.
I have (always with permission) recorded sessions before to go over in making these choices, but honestly even just a few small reminder notes will help me unravel things later. If a session goes well, I'll ask at the end for people to give me their contact information if they'd be interested in playing again. Non-committal, at their comfort, and it doesn't single out people that I don't want to play with. I can always just not call them. Usually I find I'm interested in playing again with a little more than half of the players I meet this way. In my experience, it's fairly rare for a player to say they're not interested in playing again, TTRPGs rule and there's a DM shortage.
What I usually do is keep running these until I have enough people in mind to run something else, even if it isn't the system I'm most excited about. Probably it would be better to spend more time in this starter phase building up more connections, but after running like 4-5 5e adventures, I'm usually more than ready to run anything else, and if I have to shelve my Lancer ideas because I've mostly found crunch-averse players, I'm usually fine with that.
So, next comes the invites. Now, most players I meet this way will eventually be open to playing most games, but listen: you can put people well out of their comfort zone for their third TTRPG, but you gotta be real careful with their second. Most of the time, the game I'm inviting people to will be their first real exposure to a non-5e TTRPG. If they don't like it, they will run back to the safety of 5e and you will never get them out of it again. So I am very careful in picking the right system for the players I am inviting.
Whatever the new system I want to run is, I will set up a pilot session for it. I am very clear to players that I will teach them the system at the session, they do not need to know it in advance. Eventually, when I have a reliable group of TTRPG people to play with, I'll expect them to be able to pick up systems without a ton of help, but for players that are only used to the complexity of 5e, the idea of learning a new system is daunting. I rehearse the teaching of the game session. It's the only thing for TTRPGs I ever rehearse, but I want to know down pat how I'm going to quickly teach a new system and make it feel approachable and non-threatening. I'm also very clear that this will be a single session, with the possibility of turning into a campaign if we like it. All of this is structured to feel very safe. No initial learning required, no long term commitment, with a GM you already know you like.
But even as safe as that is, you still have to pitch the system. Why should the player be excited about playing this new game? Don't go all TTRPG nerd on them and explain all the details of the system, or use a bunch of jargon. Give them one or two things to be excited about with short, detailed anecdotes to back them up.
"We're going to be playing Blades in the Dark. It's a game where you play a gang of criminals in a haunted, steampunk dystopia. Every session you'll do heists, but instead of meticulously planning them, you start right in the action, and when you need to have planned for something, you can do a flashback scene to explain your preparation. One group I ran this for got busted by guards during an early heist, but used a flashback to create a scene where they had gotten a buddy of theirs a job as one of the guards, and he helped them out of the situation. And for some reason they fell in love with this bumbling goof I improvised to be the buddy, and then on a bunch of future jobs they kept using flashbacks to get him jobs wherever they were robbing. So this one idiot was just a de-facto crew member who worked a dozen different inside jobs despite being about as sharp as an eraser. And eventually they fucked up and got him killed, but they brought him back as a ghost, because you can do that in Blades in the Dark."
I find using a specific example of play really helps get peoples' imaginations going, which is what is going to help them say yes. And that example is tailored to what I know that player vibes with, what it is I think that makes them a good fit for this game.
The last detail about the invites is that I'm telling them, not asking them. It is not, "Hey, are you interested in playing this new game?" It's "I'm going to be running this new game. If you're interested in playing, please let me know what times work for you." If you're asking, you're going to get some "well but can it be 5e?" If you're telling, then they can choose to learn a new game in order to keep playing TTRPGs with a GM they know they like, or they can choose not to play at all.
Once you get enough yesses for a game, you run it, and then from there you're on your own. I think those are basically just friends you have at that point, and I'm not gonna tell you how to have friends.
Hopefully at least one person finds all that useful!
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waddleonmywaywardducks · 5 months ago
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How to get back into your practice after a burnout
Alot of times in our practices, we often just straight up forget. Not going to lie to you I didn't practice much until I got out of my mom's home...which was one year ago. And I also have a theory that since paganism isnt dogmatic and is meant to be ran by a community we fall out really easy, it's natural, paganism is different now. But anyways here is chaos's master guide on how to put on your big girl panties and get back the work.
(disclaimer: just because these things worked for me doesn't mean it's going to work for everyone else, this post is completely upg. I'm just offering advice.)
Starting out small
What never stuck to me is those post that are like: "stir your intentions into your coffee, light incense, pray" because like yeah thats a good way to start off I really dont think itll set in our brains to do this everyday. Instead what I recommend is finding days to practice and sticking to that day. Find a day where you useally do nothing and dedicate it to getting back into your practice.
You could use this day to research on all the things you forgotten (been there)
Or you could just leave offerings out for your deities and call it a day
I think if you uphold a certain schedule your mind will get into the habit of "oh today's witch day, time to do witchcraft" this is basic psychology, and I promise it works 😭😭
Deity work and getting back into it
Little reminder: your gods are not mad at you. They do not hate you. They love you.
I have had so many falling outs with deities because I just couldn't uphold a schedule. Hekate being one of them. Hekate really showed me the way once I moved out of my mother's house, and after so many ins and outs of my worship to her, she still showed me love and compassion. I promise your gods will do the same. They understand our mortal lives more then you comprehend. After all, this is their earth.
Stuff you can do to get back into worship with your deities:
- offerings, big or small
- dedicate days to them, in my schedule Hekate is worshipped on Monday, and Aphrodite on Friday.
- research ways to connect with them more
- don't make big promises that you will get back into your practice and never fall out again, thats just putting yourself in more responsibility, your gods will now expect that responsibility. I've done this before and I definitely got side eyed by Hekate 😭😭
I recommend reading over these lovely post by @/khaire-traveler
Subtle deity worship
I honestly used this alot to get back into worship with my deities 😭😭 these posts go into worship you could do for deities while you are either hiding your practice or just want to do something for your gods. Really helpful post 10/10.
Getting back into witchcraft
I know I kind of went over this already, but I feel like there needs to be some small steps to getting back into witchcraft before we get to rituals, spells and stuff of that sort.
To get back into witchcraft, I recommend meditating, either by yourself or with your deities. Meditation allows you to just focus on the present and let go of all your stresses. I like to meditate with my deities because I get visions from them easily this way, it's easier for me to communicate.
From there you can do research on the basics of witchcraft and work your way up to rituals and spell work... hopefully all of this makes sense
Anyways yeah that's all the advice I have to getting back into your practice, if I have anything else to add I'll reblog this and add more. But yeah! I really hopes this helps at least someone lol.
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writingquestionsanswered · 5 months ago
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Not to be a downer, but I actually finished my novel and now I’m confused because I don’t want to publish it. I don’t even particularly want anyone other than maybe my two close friends to even read it. What on Earth did I write 40k words (which I know is not really long enough for a novel, but it’s still far and away the longest thing I’ve ever written) for? I know people say “write for yourself” but like… am I just wasting my time? Help?
(p.s. you can leave this off anon)
(p.p.s your blog is really great 👍)
There's No Such Thing as Wasted Writing
I'm going to tackle this two ways...
#1 - "Write For Yourself" - there's a reason this common phrase has echoed through the Hall of Writers since time immemorial. It's because it's true! Writing doesn't have to be anything more than a pastime. It doesn't have to be anything more than something you do for your own benefit and enjoyment.
I have an in-joke with family members about how any time one of us does something the least bit crafty, DIY, skilled, whatever, a particular family member will always say, "You did a great job! You should do it for a living!" Like, someone can't even crochet a Kawaii mushroom without being pressured to turn it into an Etsy dynasty, or paint a cabinet without being pressured to become the next Property Brothers. And that's such a BANANAS capitalistic mindset, isn't it? This idea that nothing can be done purely for our own enjoyment. That you can't just write a novel because you want to... you can only write it if you plan to share it or publish it? It's just so silly.
And, the thing is, we don't even apply that mentality to a lot of other things people do purely for enjoyment. No one is streaming all of Bridgerton in two nights and saying, "I enjoyed every second of that, but why did I do that? Such a waste of time!" No one spends an hour strumming their guitar under the stars on a beach, and then says, "That was so relaxing and fun, but I didn't charge for that performance and I didn't record it to sell it, so that was obviously a waste of time."
You know what I mean?
#2 - And Anyway, Practice Makes Perfect - And if you keep writing--even if you continue not to share or publish--you'll get better and better with each story you write. Which, maybe all that means is you get to appreciate your own improvement, but also, should you ever change your mind and decide to write something to share or publish, you've now spent time honing your skills. Even if those other stories never see the light of day, they're still an important foundation of the writer you become. Do you know how many unpublished novellas, novels, and short stories I have? Too many to count. Hundreds of fan-fiction and original fiction short stories I've only shared with one or two other people, if anyone. A dozen or so novels and novellas that have only been read by a few people, and some haven't been read by anyone else or have only been read by my CPs. I would never consider those stories and novels and novellas to be a waste of time, because I know every single one made me a better writer. My published work is better because I wrote those other things.
So, I hope that makes you feel better. At the very least you hopefully enjoyed writing your novel--or at least got something out of it--and you definitely honed your writing skills, which matters! ♥
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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!
♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here
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mikkeneko · 8 months ago
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Correct me if i'm wrong, but: in Scum Villain, Shen Qingqiu never actually kills another human being, does he? He kills the Skinner Demon, but that's the only fatality I can think of that he committed with his own two hands. Most of the rest of the fights he gets in for the rest of the series, he ends by getting away. Even the Old Palace Master gets done in by the QingSi, not by Shen Qingqiu.
which leads me to ponder: I've seen jokes and fics before about Shen Qingqiu falling prey to a Virginity Detector, but what if Shen Qingqiu post-transmigration accidentally stumbles on some kind of weird PIDW plot device plant or critter that can tell whether you've ever killed a man?
because I think Yue Qingyuan would be very confused. Qiu Haitang too.
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ohnoitstbskyen · 2 months ago
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PINNED POST, FAQ, INFORMATION
Hi, I'm TBSkyen. I make videos on YouTube sometimes. This is my main tumblr blog, the "brand" blog as it were, where I maintain my Social Media Presence™ on this site.
I use the ironic ™ to signal my personal discomfort with the work of being a minor media personality even while I still do that work and make a living off it.
I have a sideblog called @tbposting, mostly for shitposts and reblogs, and in my opinion I have pretty darn good taste in reblogs, so you can follow that if you want. It's also where I'll do random personal posting, microblogging, etc.
This main blog is primarily for 1) answering asks, and 2) posting my Original Content™, usually my main channel videos, as well as the occasional longer essay or critique. Sometimes I'll reblog an interesting or useful thing, or boost a friend's work, but I try to keep the spam to a minimum.
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About Me
I am a thirtysomething content creator whose primary expertise is character design.
I have a bachelor's degree in English, never finished my master's, did most of a bachelor's degree in history, and that's it. These are my academic qualifications, no more and no less.
My professional experience is primarily being a freelancer and self-employed creator. I spent the better part of a decade working as a commission artist, running webcomics, drawing fanart, and the occasional animation work and not safe for work commissions, and I have at this point a decade of experience and self-study in the subjects I cover. I have also done online community management for, god help me, almost twenty years, so that's a part of my skillset I'll never escape.
I do not have any particular professional creative industry experience, although given what I hear from my professional friends, sometimes that seems like a blessing.
Please maintain a critical distance when engaging with my work. I am a critic. My work is very rarely meant to be taken as authoritative or didactic, and when it is, I will make it clear in my writing. Just because I speak with confidence doesn't mean I am trying to assert objective truth.
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TAGS (to follow, or filter)
#tbanswers is the tag for every single ask I answer on this blog
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Yes, I know the spaces are inconsistent. It's not on purpose, I just typed them in haphazardly when I started using them and it's stuck.
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FAQ (before you ask)
Q: Will you ever do a video about ____ ? A: The answer to this question is almost universally "maybe someday, if I have time, and if I feel I have anything worthwhile to say." And the more realistic answer is "no, because I already have far too much on my plate and I have burned myself out too many times." In general, please don't ask me this question, I will most likely not answer it because I have given the same answer a thousand times, but I still feel guilty about not answering them.
Q: Will you continue your series of videos about ____ ? A: Yes! I will continue the let's plays I started, I will finish the Boss Designs series, I will do another What's the Deal With, I will do more shorts about the subjects I've got going on. The main obstacle is, again, my tendency to overload myself.
Q: Do you have a PO box? Can I send you something? A: Not yet, but I'm looking into it. It may be a while before I get it set up.
Q: Do you have merchandise? A: A little bit, yes, at tbskyen.redbubble.com.
Q: What's your opinion on [game/movie/comic/book/etc]? A: I struggle to answer very open, broad questions like this. Most things I have opinions about, I have multiple opinions, and different ones depending on the perspective and specific element in question. I'm much more likely to answer specific, bounded questions.
Q: Can I send you fanart? A: PLEASE. Askbox, tag me on bluesky, send it to my email! I love seeing every piece of it!
Q: Why do you never appear on camera? A: A forest witch cursed me to look not quite but ALMOST like Paul Giamatti in all photos and videos ever taken of me, and his laywers sent me a cease-and-desist.
Q: Are you gay/straight/bi/other? A: The decision I've made for myself, at least for this period of my life, is that privacy is precious, and once given up can never be reclaimed on the internet. I am open about being aromantic (not asexual), because it's a sometimes invisible and underdiscussed identity, and I know it would have helped me a lot to see someone speak about it when I was younger.
The rest of it is for me to know, and for you to speculate about, although preferably somewhere I can't see it. I accept that this is a part of being a Personality, but it still feels weird, y'know?
Q: Is it weird if I find your voice kinda hot? A: I've put a lot of work into developing this voice and making it nice to listen to, so that's not weird at all and I find it quite complimentary, thank you.
I generally don't mind people doing flirty/thirsty posting about or at me, just so long as we all understand that 1) you should never give a stranger like me information which could be used to harm you. Nicer-seeming YouTubers than me have turned out to be monsters.
And 2) it will never go beyond playful online flirtiness. I like to fluster my live chat, I'll flirt back in an ask or a post maybe, but I am not flirting with you, or inviting any kind of closer intimacy with you, the person I responded to.
Think of me like a comedian doing crowd-work at a show - you can chat to me in the bar after the show, but when I asked you what you do for work I wasn't looking for a personal connection, I was doing my work as an entertainer. Please no sending me nudes, or propositions, or confession letters in my email inbox. We are strangers, and I am always performing a persona in public.
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hyunebunx · 2 months ago
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DENI!!! i've been a little bit out of here 😣😣 but i received the notif of your post......... the soft thought ( more like domestic details, which i love ) is painting hyune's nails. you do not know how to properly do it, because the nail polish always lands on the skin surrounding the nail, and even if you try to do a desing, like a little flower w a couple of points, it ends up all messed up. imagine a quiet afternoon, after watching some tv show, all cozy and warm, and he offers you his nails to practise a little bit. even if you mess it up again, he might actually paint yours and try to follow the same messed up pattern to go matching 🥺
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⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff and even more fluff!!
⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: MARS!! i wrote this in one go, istg this is the cutest idea ever :( thank you for helping me and letting me write soft hyune fluff, this fixed me fr. i hope you enjoy, my love <333
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“Can I do it?” You ask, eyeing his clean nails as Hyunjin reaches up to fix his face mask before doing the same with yours, making sure neither of your headbands fell too low on your foreheads.
“Hm?” He hums, smoothing the thin layer of the sheet mask on your already smooth skin, smiling once your eyes meet. “Do what?”
“Your nails.” You nod towards them, catching one of his hands and bringing it to your lips to peck the back of it, much to his displeasure as the action moves the mask around your face awkwardly. Even so, he was so close to you on the tiny couch that you could feel his heart beating wildly, betraying his true feelings.
Hyunjin tries not to smile too brightly as he nods, fondness clear as day in brown eyes even in the dim light of the living room. “Knock yourself out, baby.” He was never one to reject you, no matter how silly or out of pocket your requests were. Hyunjin would move mountains for you, after all, if that meant you’d be happy forever and keep smiling for him until the day he took his last breath.
The tv ran idly in the background, a rerun of one of your favorite shows as you got to work, gently placing both of your boyfriend’s hands in your lap. His small collection of nail polish was laid before you on the coffee table, accompanied by a file, a bag of cotton pads and nail polish remover. Just in case, you know.
Gently taking one of his hands, you subconsciously intertwine your fingers together as you look over the bottles, brainstorming. Hyunjin takes this moment of silence as an opportunity to reach over and turn on one of lamps by the couch, providing you with more light.
“What are you thinking?” His voice is low, not wanting to disturb you, softly pulling his hand away to massage your palm instead.
“Ladybug nails.”
“What?” He laughs, scooting closer.
You nod, reaching for the bottle of red nail polish. Not like you had many options to begin with, Hyunjin’s palette was limited – something you’d never thought you’d say.
“Your nails are always so dark, I was thinking of doing a cute design for a change.”
He arches a dark brow. “You could use white.”
You pause, tearing your gaze from the bottle to stare at him blankly. “Ladybugs aren’t white.”
The laugh that escapes him has your heart double in size, feeling all warm and fuzzy as he throws his head back in genuine amusement, finding you even more endearing than usual. “Alright, ladybug, do whatever you please. I’ll stop interfering.”
And he keeps his promise, quiet as a mouse as you begin painting his nails, attention stolen by the tv and the snacks you’ve prepared for your weekly movie night. Hyunjin has mastered the art of eating with a face mask on, no crumb landing anywhere near and messing it up. There was nothing he couldn’t do, it seemed.
You’re almost done with his one hand when he slowly reaches to remove your face mask, joining his on a napkin on the table. Usually, he’d also massage the remaining serum into your skin but you could tell he didn’t want to bother you from your new favorite past time. A past time you weren’t particularly skilled in, the nail polish getting everywhere around his nail and even on your clothes, staining the material.
“Uh…” Hyunjin turns to you, wondering why you were sounding so disheartened. “I think I messed up.”
Bringing his hand to eye level, Hyunjin studies your work curiously, analyzing every brush stroke and the big, blotchy black spots that were supposed to be polka dots. The colors were everywhere, on his cuticles and even further down to his knuckles. You’ve mostly stuck to the area around the nail so he couldn’t understand how a black spot managed to go that far.
“Baby, are the ladybugs trying to escape?” He smiles, holding back laughter.
You pout and he leans over to plant smooches on both of your cheeks, trying to make you feel better. “Don’t make fun of me, I tried my best.”
Hyunjin nods, grabbing the black polish from your hand. “I can see that.” Without warning, he starts applying it down his index finger in a strange pattern, causing your mouth to fall open in shock. “And it looks great, love.”
You knew he was lying to try and make you feel better, there was no way he actually thought that.
Biting down on his plush bottom lip, he eventually puts the brush away and gets a hold of your hand before pressing the back of his onto yours, squeezing lightly. You’re so confused that no words escape you, wondering if this was his way of getting back at you for messing up his nails and getting his hand all dirty.
“Done!” He beams, looking so much younger with his hair all pushed back and bare face, cozy and cuddly in his soft pajamas. “Now we match.”
Looking down, you realize the pattern he drew on himself was now on your hand too, tiny lines and spots resembling even tinier footsteps. A ladybug’s footsteps. Or tracks, actually.
Forget beating, your heart almost bursts out of your chest and latches onto him, first his cheek and then plump lips, smooching the area before intertwining with his own and running away together like two forbidden lovers. Hyunjin brought so much needed light into your life, you could barely believe he was real and not a fragment of your rich imagination.
“The ladybug that ran away from my nail has found its way home to you.” He finally laughs, eyes two crescent moons. “It’s silly, please forgive me.”
“Silly?” You blurt out, dragging him by the hand just so he can fall into your waiting arms, hugging him tightly. “It’s only silly if you don’t actually draw a cute ladybug on my hand now.” His arms sneak around your middle, face hiding in your chest as yours move over his shoulders, breathing in the scent of him.
“Only if you do my other hand.” He murmurs, placing a linger kiss right above your beating heart.
You can’t help but grin, thankful for having such a kind person by your side. “Deal!”
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readychilledwine · 19 days ago
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Happy Birthday, Baby
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Summary - You being a busy little bee won't stop your husband from celebrating your birthday
Warnings - None
A/N - Backtracking through my masterlists I had planned and this little drabble ended up happening. I promise, my dear friends, I will post everything I've promised. I have a 5 day weekend coming so I can get all my edits done ❤️
🎂2024 Birthday Masterlist🎂
✨️Azriel Masterlist✨️Master Masterlist✨️
Peep @firefly-graphics for some ultra cute Dividers! So many options and fandoms.
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Azriel stood in darkness, a single candle on a single cupcake. He was waiting in anticipation as the clock ticked slowly. You would be home soon after accomplishing a life goal.
Opening day had taken over your life, but you were officially the proud owner of the only bookstore in Velaris that had a coffee shop and bakery inside of it. You had a variety of seating and plenty of space, allowing a quiet place for others to read, work, and enjoy your favorite things, books and coffee.
Azriel was happy for you. Watching his mate, his wife, live her dreams was a reward he never felt he deserved. The only thing that hurt him was how little you had cared for yourself at this point.
Your nights were occupied with contacting authors, setting contracts with vendors, negotiating with Rhysand as he helped you pay for your dreams to come true. Your older brother had been beyond supportive, but was constantly checking your decisions to ensure they promised profit.
Not that money mattered.
This was about joy. Nothing else.
You had been so into this project that you had forgotten today was your birthday. To you, your birthday was nothing more than just another sunrise and sunset. To Azriel, it should have been a holiday within the Night Court. All of the courts, actually.
His most perfect little fae, the one he was made and destined for, the one who made him want to be better for himself and her deserved to be worshiped, and the fact that you had forgotten your birthday was killing him.
He perked up when the door opened. You walked in and froze when you saw him. Azriel stared at you as he lit the candle, his smile beginning to grow as you walked over.
He passed it to you before leaning on the counter, his eyes almost shining like hearts. Azriel watched as you blew out the candle, hoping your wish was for more time with him before moving to grab two little plates to split the cupcake with him.
His hands were on you instantly, arms wrapping around your waist pulling your back against his firm chest. “Love you so much,” he whispered into your hair. “You were supposed to come home hours ago.”
“I love you, too,” you giggled as he pouted, face buried in your neck, “I was so busy after you left. I'm sorry.”
“How busy,” he murmured. “Who stopped you from being with me?”
“I completely sold out of blind date books," there was an air of pride in your tone that hadn't been heard in years.
Azriel paused, “Really? You wrapped over 100?”
She nodded, cutting the cupcake for them, “Like I said, very busy.”
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The two of you sat at the table, the dying fireplace the only glow lighting up the room. It wasn't how he wanted to spend the day, but the satisfied, tired smile on your face said it all. For you, today was perfect and that was all that mattered.
Azriel laced your fingers together, breaking the silence with his soft, deep voice, “Happy birthday, baby.”
General Taglist:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month ago
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Winter's King 28
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: It might be my only full length chapter this week but pls enjoy.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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The king keeps you within his sight. As promised, the cloak is brought to the tower chamber. You dawn it as the king pulls on the layers of his duty; tunic, breeches, leather armour, boots, cloak, and the small accoutrements to ward off the cold. For how hotly he burned beside you in the night, you would think he could not feel the winter. 
It is early still. The gray of the sky never fully recedes but it is neither pale nor dark. Even so, the day has come. 
There is a single tap at the door. The king backs away from the hearth. You sit at the table, restless in the cloak with the wolf patch. He calls for the knocker to enter. 
Bryce appears from the other side, his saddles bags over one shoulder. "My king. Roach is ready." 
"Very well," he nods, "summer maid," he turns and beckons to you with two thick fingers, "the good lord will take you ahead." 
"My leige?" Bryce wonders what you do not dare ask. 
"Only be concerned that she remains safe. Warm," he nears and shamelessly caresses your check. You flinch as you refuse to falter.  "You will get her to the capital ahead of us. You will be fleet without so many to slow you." 
You meets Bryce's gaze. In all that you've known him, he has never looked afraid. There is fear gleaming on his eyes. 
"I will always serve you, my king. And never have I denied your command, but might I speak plain?" The soldier faces his master. 
"I prefer you for your candour," King Geralt returns. 
"This will not go without note," Bryce says. "Not least of all by the queen." 
"The queen cares little for the maid. She only cares she has someone at her whim." 
"Be that as it may, but it is not her who would notice. Yet, whoever did, would be certain she hears of it--" 
"I fear not my wife and her temper. She is tawdry. A child. Let her whine and stomp her feet," the king dismisses. "Your concern is appreciated. I understand you only mean to protect me, but I care more to keep her safe." 
"Yes, my king," Bryce accedes, "I will not let any harm come upon the maid. As I've not yet done." 
"It is why I trust only you and Roach. Be gone before the party is abreast." The king faces you, surprising you as he kneels before you. You blanch as you notice the shift in the soldier's posture. "My tender maid, keep you well. I regret that it need be this way but after last eve, I must have you away from this tumultuous party." He takes your hand and pets your knuckles before kissing them. He admires your fingers as if they are adorned in gems. "I will see you in the capital. There, then, we can be happy." 
“My king,” you breathe, “what about the queen?” 
“I shall tend to her should she be dissatisfied. That is no longer your worry. She does not deserve you, treasure.” He avows. 
You stare at him. His eyes are eerie in the low light. You would not and cannot deny him. 
“Yes, your highness, as you wish,” you concede. It was never truly your choice. 
“Before we part, pet,” he squeezes your hands. “A kiss?” 
You hesitate. The soldier turns to the door and feigns ignorance. You dip your chin. The king tilts his head up and you lean forward. As you aim for his forehead, he brings his lips to yours.  
He releases your hands and quickly cradles your head as he braces your hip. His tongue pokes along your lips and you relent to his will. That is as it will be. As it has always been. You have ever been servant. 
He finally parts, humming as his bright irises glimmer, “my treasure, my love,” he rasps. 
“My king, I wish you a safe journey,” you utter. 
“And I shall bid the fates the same of you,” he drags his hand down your thigh and stands. “Safe and quick. Off, before my weak heart gets the best of my mind.” 
Bryce’s sole scuffs and he clears his throat, “come, maid. Put your hood up.” 
You stand and bow your head. You pass close to the king, your cloak stirring against him, and you cross to the soldier. He opens the door and trails you out. You do as he bid and pull your hood up. You descend the twisting steps in silence. 
The corridors are no less hollow and a bitter draft wafts through. The roiling of Bryce’s thoughts ripples from him as he marches next to you. You can only sense him past the fabric of the hood. 
“I shall make you tea for the road,” Bryce says at last. “It should keep you warm.” 
“Thank you, sir, but it isn’t needed,” you say. “We should leave quickly.” 
“Aye, we will be away ‘fore any know,” he agrees, “but not without the tea.” 
You offer no further protest. It isn’t your right to argue. You haven been bidden and so you will do. Obedience never chafed before. Obedience was safe, it was sustenance for any maid. 
You go to the kitchens and wait as Bryce boils water and brews a dark tea from leaves in a pouch he digs from his tunic. He offers it. It carries a pungent aroma. You blow over it and sip. You make a face. 
“It is... strong,” you murmur. 
“So it is, but the leaf will help warm your blood,” he insists and paces back and forth. He is restless to be away. You are as well. 
You drink and he ushers you away to the stables. You stride along the row of stalls and he dodges the nip of a dark steed. He flattens himself against another door and snarls, “the damned beast. ‘Less you can tame her, the king’ll have to keep her ‘neath his stubborn arse.” 
You recognise the mare. It is Roach, the king’s mount. You stare at her and she turns her nose to you. 
“Be wary lest she chomps off your face,” the soldier girds. 
You have little mind to worry for your own nose. You raise your hand pet the creature’s long snout as she plumes hot air from her nostrils. He pushes against your palm and eases, leaning into your touch as you brush along her long head. 
“Come, Roach, we have far to go... I believe,” you say. “Be kind to Sir Bryce. He is brave and kind.” 
“Aye, she seen me ‘fore and I never think she’s thought so,” he snorts, keeping his distance. 
You drag your touch down her neck and put your hand on the latch of her door. She nuzzles your hood and you free her. She steps out as Bryce lingers behind you. 
“Can you saddle a horse? Else I’ll have to brave her bites,” he says. 
“I can. Fetch it and her bit.” 
You dress the horses. Daisy is left behind as Bruce claims Chestnut as his own. You’ll miss your usual mount. 
You get astride and head off into the cold dawn. Your stomach churns as you descend the treacherous mountainside. You’re not sure if it is the thin air, the turmoil of what you ride away from, or ride towards. Perhaps it is all at once. 
Bryce stops you in a natural alcove, away from the winds as he searches his saddle bag. He hands you a leather packet. There are oats and nuts within. He spits out the red leaf he chews so often and nibbles on dried meat instead. 
You eat in silence. The food does not aid in the condition of your stomach. You feel rotten. 
The soldier squints and glances out from between the rockface. He tuts and shakes his head. He puts away the jerky and struts out into the open. He looks up the pass. 
“Eh, I know you’ve been there since we left. Better you show your face before I show my steel,” he warns the wind. 
You frown and fold down the flap of the packet. You hear scratching, then it comes clearer, footsteps. How did he know? Why did he not say a word? 
“It is I, sir,” Ezme declares. “Lord Vesemir--” 
“Aye, I know he sent ya. Why?” Bryce crosses his arms. You step away from Roach as she stomps. 
“He did speak with our great king last eve,” she appears just at the edge of your view. “He offered to keep the made. That the king might return to his throne ‘fore he come back to claim her.” 
“And he was denied.” Bryce says. 
“The king was not amenable, no, yet... Lord Vesemir acts only in accord with his duty. He vowed to protect King Geralt--” 
“And to serve him. As I have,” Bryce insists. “No, you will not have her. I’ve been commanded to take her away.” 
“You could remain. Lord Vesemir knows many secret places. Those that are not on maps. It would be as if the two of you were lost. The king wouldn’t know--” 
“He would,” Bryce growls. “I am not fool, even if all others in this forsaken realm might be. I do like my head on my neck.” 
“It is not safe. Not for the king or the maid. Not for you,” Ezme counters.  
“There is nothing safe in this world. Never has been,” Bryce scoffs. “Be away before I prove that.” 
“Sir Bryce, you have never been unkind.” 
“You ask me to commit treason. How should I be?” He retorts. 
Her head shrinks down. She slowly turns to you. Bryce moves to block her. She stops short and speaks over his arm. “Dear friend, know that Lord Vesemir’s invitation will remain. Always. Even after you leave this day.” 
You blink at her. Your heart is racing. You feel sick. Knots tie into themselves in your chest and stomach. You blow out a cloud of warmth breath into the frigid mountain air. 
“Thank you, friend,” you reply. “I shall follow the king’s command.” 
“I understand,” she purses her lips grimly. She steps back and faces the soldier again, “safe journey.” 
He sighs, “you know I cannot accept.” 
“And I had to try,” she says then spins and disappears back up the incline. 
“So is our call to keep on,” Bryce strides back to you and the horses. “Better sooner, the road will unwind on and on. I tire of it already.” 
You climb back into the saddle and set off again. The further you get, the worse you feel. As if you might be sick, or even as if you might need to lift your skirts in some hidden brush. You feel so wretched you can hardly focus on anything but your body. 
“Sir,” you say, “I must stop.” 
“Aye, mouse, we might,” he reins Chestnut as you tug on Roach.  
You nearly fall off of her in your panic. You are going to spew. You stumble and turn to hide the eruptions. You spit up onto the dirt. 
“I have water,” Bryce offers from behind you. 
“A moment, sir,” you breathe as fullness pulses in your pelvis. 
You go around Roach and hide behind her. You pull up the front of the dress, letting the skirts and cloak shield your back. You reach between your legs as slip your hands down your wool underclothes. Your palm comes away streaked and red. Your blood has come. Early. 
“Are you well?” The soldier asks. 
“Sir, I am,” you assure him and wipe your hand on the underside of the skirt. “It is only a womanly trouble.” 
“Aye, oh, aye,” he grumbles awkwardly. “Take ye time, then.” 
You lean on Roach and close your eyes. You are horribly sore already and exhausted to the bone. Still, you can do nothing but persist.  
“I’m ready, sir,” you lift yourself back into saddle. “I would away.” 
“If we are swift, we will be on flat ground by nightfall,” he says. 
⚔️
The days wear on. The first week is counted by the days of your cycle. The pain and the fatigue has you aware of each moment. Then it is the moon that marks the waning of time. 
The road winds away from the mountains and onto the flatlands. Only for a time before trees rise around you and shroud you in shadow, both dusk and dawn. Between the fir needles and veined bark are those noises that keep you unsettled. 
You camp before a small fire. Bryce works at planting the posts to drape canvas over. The snow is kept off the ground by the thick canopy of branches above. There is some dusting here and there, but it is mostly dry. 
“What can I do, sir?” You ask, as you have done every night. 
“I tell ya again to sit and warm yourself,” he sneers as he hammers in the post. 
“And I repeat I would like to help,” you insist. 
“I can manage. I’m not old man,” he sniffs as he grabs the canvas roll. 
“I know...” you pause as you hear another faraway whine. It sends a shiver through you. “Sir, what are those sounds?” 
He chortles as he works at spreading the canvas over the poles. “Why those are the frostwolves. And the low rumbles will be the bears. The skittering the snow foxes, and the shrill ones, those are the winter birds.” He explains, “they leave ya alone, so long as you keep the fire burning.” He ties a corner into place, “besides, they hate the smell of me.” 
“What?” You gasp, amused. 
“Aye, the don’t like my stench. I came eye-to-eye with a bear. Oh, he didn’t stick around to get a second look,” he scoffs. “And I said to the beast, I don’t mess with ya, don’t be gnawing on my leg. See, I’ve got a truce with the winter beasts.” 
You laugh and sway as you hug yourself. It is awfully cold. Your ears and head hurt almost constantly, even with your hood in place, and the gloves only do so much to keep your fingers from tingling, or your boots for your toes. 
“I s’pose they might be lured by the sweet scent of a summer’s maid. A new flavour,” he teases. 
“You scare me, sir.” 
“Scare you? Oh, but this beast is your friend. You needn’t fear the others.” 
You smile through chattering teeth. He stands straight and eyes you with hands on his hips. “Get close to the fire. You don’t want to catch the ague. Not around here.” 
“I am well, sir,” you promise. 
“Then stay well,” he nears and grabs your wrists. He drags you to the pit and guides your hands over the flames. “Keep close to the horses even. They reek but they put off heat more than cinder.” 
You nod and keep your arms out. It is nice by the fire. The further you get on the road, the colder it is. You could never dream of anything so frigid. It makes you wonder how any can survive in this place, let alone build castles or sow a field. And the more you think of what you don’t know, you are faced with what you do know. 
Your fate is as certain as any of the king’s commands. You will remain in the Hinterlands. It will be your home thus you should acquaint yourself to it. You should become tolerant to the winds and the snow and the wailing beasts. 
“Sir Bryce,” you eke out. “Will you tell me more about these woods?” 
“These woods? Trees, wolves, dirt,” he shrugs. 
“No, sir, I want to know more. I want to know everything. About the Winter Kingdom and the people who built it. What about the king? Not our king, but the one before? I hear much and yet I feel I know less.” 
He huffs and tilts his head, “it is best you know as little as possible about that one.” 
“Was he very bad?” You wonder. 
He sniffs, “I can’t tell you all but what I can is that he was selfish. He was negligent of his kingdom and his people even his own son. He let these lands go to spoil. His name is not one any speaks lightly. It is the reason our king is so loved. Because he is all that his father was not.” He dusts off his hands and shakes his head. “At least, we all hope that proves true.” 
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stu-dyingstudent · 3 months ago
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Sakura Haruno fic recs: time travel AU
I'm finally getting around to recommending some good Sakura-centric time travel fics! There are plenty of them out there and they can be kind repetitive, but I always eat them up. Typically speaking, I really don't care much for the whole introduction bit at the start where it's the actual process of her being sent back... So just make it past there before you decide whether or not to continue!!! Also, I'm starting to think this list is getting kinda long, so maybe I'll do a second one?
I've been dying to post some of these fics in a list, so please enjoy!
Started: 2024.08.16
Last Updated: 2024.08.26
note: feel free to check out my master list which has a bunch of Sakura Haruno fic recs (all organized)!
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Sakura - lilac haze || ffn/ao3 || M || minasaku || time travel AU || complete
AU. Non-Canon. Time Travel. Please see inside for full warnings. Cross posted on Ao3. On his deathbed he was granted eternal peace and place to rest for all of time. Of course that was not appealing to him. Ever unpredictable to the end he had a counter offer. One that the Sage had to consider. In which Sakura's going to have a rough time. A really rough time.
If there is one thing I want you to take away from this list, it is this fic right here. I kid you not, Sakura is one of the best fics I have ever read. I have never felt so gutted, so heartbroken, so giddy, so stressed, all from one work. It's a masterpiece all while being criminally underrated. The characterizations and storytelling are beautifully done. You feel for the characters and the relationships formed along the way are truly great. Please share this author some love.
Check TWs before hand!!
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The Misadventures of Kakashi and the Girl From No Where - Goldfishlover73 || ao3 || kakasaku || M || time travel AU || complete
When a girl called Sakura seemingly falls in the sky, Kakashi is skeptical. Far more skeptical than the rest of Team Minato are. War is approaching quickly and this strange girl is leaving more questions than answers in her wake, Kakashi must decide where his trust and loyalties lie in a constantly changing world.
Told in the perspective of Kakashi in his youth! Really interesting take and I love how strong Sakura is in this in addition to the fact that we get to see a different side of Kakashi that we aren't used to.
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Anachronistic Drift  - Elesrea  || ffn || gen || T || time travel AU || incomplete
Her plan was flawless. Save Shisui. Save the world. Time-travel, Sakura-centric AU
Sakura spends years training to be sent back in time and save the world from Sasuke. Whilst masquerading as her younger self, she poses as an unofficial ANBU to stay anonymous in her efforts of changing the shinobi world for the better.
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Tourniquet - lilac haze || ffn || T || minasaku || time travel AU || complete
She was his tourniquet. She stopped the bleeding, she stopped his bleeding. She stopped his pain, his despair, his loneliness. She was the first face he saw. She was the first person he trusted. She was the first person to keep his secret. She was his tourniquet. He did not love her. He only loved the idea of her. SakuraXMinato. Time-Travel Fic. Alt. Universe
I quite honestly think this is a hidden gem amongst time travel AUs since I never see people recommending it, but Touriquet is so good! What's interesting here is that it isn't Sakura that's playing with time, but rather Minato. The night of the Nine-Tails attack, rather than dying, he is sent to the future where post-war Sakura is the one to find him and keep the former Hokage alive. It's a delicate situation and one which is kept a secret from many, but through Minato's depression and difficulties with his new life, Sakura becomes a close confident.
Same author as Sakura! I gotta read more of their works
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Armour-Sleeved Single Hit - thatdamnuchiha || ao3 || T || madasaku || time travel AU || one-shot complete
Sasuke always told Sakura she was weak. Even after she trained with Tsunade for years he only had eyes for Naruto whom he considered strong. She would forever be invisible to him no matter how many mountains she toppled. Being a member of Team Seven despite Sasuke’s refusal to acknowledge her meant she got herself into her fair share of sticky situations. Getting stuck a hundred odd years in the past had to take the cake though. But she was just a weak little girl and compared to the shinobi of old she’d be ridiculously pathetic. Sasuke had said she was weak to him – a modern day shinobi who hadn’t been forced into battle after battle like they did in the Warring Clans Era. Obviously she’d be nothing more than a spec of dirt in the eyes of the Founders.
Sakura manages to find herself in founding-era Konoha! While trying to prove that medical ninja are capable fighters she unknowingly gains the affection of Madara Uchiha. After all, the Uchiha find beauty in strength. Super cute read!
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here are the fruits of your labor (would you like a cherry on top?) - snickiebear || ao3 || M || shisaku || time travel AU || one-shot complete
Shisui smiles and it is unlike any smile she has seen before. She cannot remember the last time she had seen a smile. 
Sakura manages to fix everything and now tries to live her life in a past she doesn't know. Shisui is the first to find her and the two of them form a close relationship that continues through her journey of recovery.
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The Moon Knows Best - darth_healer || ao3 || E || madasaku || time travel AU || complete
The Moon has played a cruel trick on Madara. He's still home, but it's not the same. Instead of a tranquil forest, there's a colorful vibrant village. Instead of the cliffside he knows so well, it's a collection of Senju faces, one of which belongs to his good friend Hashirama. And instead of Hashirama, Madara is saddled with a very interesting, pink-haired girl. MadaSaku in which young Madara goes forward through time.
Madara finds himself far into the future where the first to stumble upon him is Sakura. He's such a brat, but his and Sakura's interactions are rather entertaining.
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In the Magic Hour - summersirius || ao3 || E || minasaku || time travel AU || complete
It's not perfect, but everything is beautiful. —Minato/Sakura
A sharingan mishap lands Sakura in the past where she drops down in front of team Minato. With her hope of returning to the present time dwindling, Sakura excepts her new life and tries to make the best of the situation and the new bonds that come with it. The dynamic between Sakura and the older generation is quite refreshing and her mentor relationship with the former team 7 is great.
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Stumble - writer168 || ao3/ffn || gen || T || time travel AU || complete
Sakura wanted to die.Sasori was fine with staying dead.But it seemed fate had other plans for them, because when they both wake up younger with blood pulsing through their veins, they had to remember how to live again.Time Travel AU
Sasori and Sakura are both sent back in time and they try to make a difference in their respective villages. Told in the perspective of both characters, but primarily Sakura. She ends up forming a pretty sweet bond with Ibiki and Genma (which I love) and they help her through some things. Sakura has a rough time
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A Twist in Time - wolf08 || ffn || sasusaku || T || time travel AU || complete
With Konoha on the verge of destruction, Sakura is sent on a last-resort mission to save her world by travelling to the past. Join her in coping with her old body's shortcomings, testing the natural laws of time, falling in love all over again, and rediscovering who she is.
With Sakura frustrated at being back to where she started in her becoming of a shinobi, she begins to train with Sasuke. This time around in her life, her relationship with her brooding teammate isn't so strained. Pretty cute read imo
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Return & Rehash - SpaceNugget11 || ffn || sasusaku || M || time travel AU || incomplete
"You," Sakura snarled with bared teeth. Sasuke gagged for air, clutching at her forearm, but she only pressed harder into him. Her green eyes crackled, and she wished she could burn him alive with the heat of her anger.
Sasuke and Sakura certainly did not end in their last life on goods terms and it is prevalent from the moment Sakura awakens and attacks her teammate.
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An Inch of Gold - KuriQuinn || ffn || sasusaku || T || time travel AU || complete
Team 7 is sent on a mission to investigate a disturbance outside of the village, where they encounter an unconscious girl in a crater. The mysterious Sarada insists she's a shinobi from the Hidden Leaf trying to rescue her teammates. When the team discovers she possesses a Sharingan, things become even more unbelievable. [Part of the Legacy of Fire Series]
Sarada lands herself back in time all while crashing into another team 7 mission gone wrong. An Inch of Gold is in multiple perspectives, but they're all done quite well. Sasuke and Sakura are obviously rather flustered by the situation and the fact they have to deal with it in front of the team makes it quite entertaining.
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These Eyes of Mine (I Can See) - tsukuyue || ao3 || gen || time travel AU || complete
They've lost. Naruto was dead, killed at Kaguya’s hands. Along with him died any illusions of hope that they could win. They couldn’t win, but perhaps they wouldn’t need to. In attempts to stop the Fourth Shinobi War from ever occuring, Sakura is sent back in time to the moment of her birth. Protecting the people she cared about would be much easier if she knew all the facts. OR Where Sakura can see the dead, and Danzō deserves to die.
I'll be honest, I can't remember much, but I do remember that it was really good! I believe a large focus is the Uchiha massacre.
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Trials of Change - Espoiretreves || ao3 || gen || time travel AU || complete
Haruno Sakura made a promise. Looking in the eyes of her Shisou and the reanimated Hokage, she took on the most important mission of her life. Go back in time and try to prevent the 4th Shinobi War. Now, Sakura is back to her 5-year-old body, with all the knowledge and haunting memories of the future. She vows to keep her precious people safe and stop certain events from happening, without altering the timeline too much. The trials her emotions and logic put her through have her questioning her very existence, but for the sake of peace, she has to push forward. No matter what.
If you love Shisui then you'll definitely like Trials of Change. Him and Sakura form the most wholesome friendship ever and try their best in taking down ROOT. A huge cast is present here and the whole thing is just great. It seems as if everyone has some character development lmao.
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Time Flies Like An Arrow - Katlou303 || ao3 || gen || K || time travel AU || complete
Sakura traveled back in time with the intent of changing everything, but something went wrong, and now she's four years old having nightmares about impossible monsters and losing friends she has yet to meet.
I always like the ones where Sakura isn't fully aware she time travelled. I find it interesting in this fic to see how oblivious Sakura is to her situation, she's a four year old in mind and body. However, she still feels the need to make a difference in the lives of the people around her.
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cut the head off the snake - itsthechocopuff || ao3 || T || time travel AU || complete
when eighteen-year-old, post-war Sakura is thrown back into her tiny, pre-Academy body, she makes a decision. she'd had a childhood once already, and this time, she's more interested in Not Dying when the inevitable shit hits the proverbial fan. so she will work harder, care less, kill more, and smile when she's done.and hey, if she ends up reviving an extinct nature transformation to attract the most corrupt, power-hungry man from her timeline, all the better for her, right?
Sakura decides that her first order of business after traveling back in time is to infiltrate ROOT and that's exactly what she does. Sai, Shin, and Shisui are all great characters and team Ro is present as well. Very good!
Update: just found out it was recently completed!!
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Q: Do you guys like my little comments? If you look at my other lists you'll probably notice that I tend to reuse some of what I say (bc I'm lazy), but for the most part I try to add something new whenever I put a fic on a list. I know that descriptions aren't always very helpful, so I like to put a little something for y'all to get a better idea of what to expect!
Send me recs if you have any!!!
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kikitakite · 6 months ago
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I saw your callout in the Gale tag for that one user (no comment on them, tho ty for the callout bc i'd seen them in the notes of my fics) and was curious if you could elaborate on some of the Mystra incidents you described towards the end of the post? I'm new to the lore of the setting and find it hard to research (which makes sense given its importance to dnd), so I've heard a lot of conflicting things about Mystra's portrayal in the wider series. No pressure, obviously!
No problem! And yea, I've seen her arguing in the posts of a few people I follow or just Gale-related posts I find interesting. Usually I don't get involved in stuff like this, but I noticed a constant pattern and then all the homophobic shit so I went off a little.
Unfortunately it's hard to find exact examples of the Mystra lore because certain modules aren't very popular or even free to access, but if you're interested the best way to learn about her is by reading the Elminster novels. There's twelve total, dating all the way back to 1994, and they detail Elminster's adventures. I'll be honest though, some of them are a hard read and written through the lens of a man who's admitted very creative, but also has a lot of problematic ideas.
In the first book Elminster is a child. His entire town gets wiped out by mages, thereby making him hostile toward magic. He sneaks into Mystra's temple to deface her statue one night, but she appears before him and basically gaslights him into learning magic and becoming her rare Chosen. He becomes a wizard and cleric basically overnight, until eventually he multiclasses into pretty much every class type in DnD. As you can imagine a lot of players aren't too fond of Elminster, as he's a well known self-insert of the author and pretty annoying to run into during campaigns. None of my dungeon masters like him anyway.
He also becomes one of Mystra's most loyal followers, but she fucks with him over and over, turning him into a woman to teach him a lesson and SLEEPING with him in that form, berating him when he struggles with the torture he endures when he gets stuck in the hells, making him reproduce without his knowledge and getting jealous when he gives his partners more attention. Because she's a very jealous goddess, which I think the game vaguely touches on but not really.
I wish I had the time to flip through all the novels and give exact citations but the best I can do is suggest them, because they're so eye opening. She's considered a neutral good goddess, but neutral gods often do terrible things for the sake of their domain. I think it needs to be noted that Mystra, as with all gods in the pantheon, only cares about her portfolio. She isn't wrong for that, but it doesn't mean she's blameless when she messes with people's lives. She's done a lot of good but she's also made horrible decisions, especially where her followers are concerned.
For example, Elminster having children he doesn't know about. He has a daughter named Narnra. Her conception was... pretty fucked up. Basically a song dragon named Ammaratha Cyndusk was an occasional lover of Elminster's (he has a lot of those because of course he does) and she wanted to bear his child, but since he's a Chosen of Mystra he can control his fertility. Magic birth control, basically. He didn't want a kid so Ammaratha went behind his back to learn a counterspell that would make him fertile during sex. The man she asked refused to teach her because...duh that's messed up, but then Mystra intervened and told him to teach her the spell because she wanted Elminster's "seed to spread". Ammaratha never told him and neither did Mystra. No matter what the reasons, that was NOT consensual on Elminster's part, and it happened two more times, resulting in two more daughters with different women. If I remember correctly Elminster did eventually find out waaaaay later when they were all adults, but it never amounted to anything.
The sisters I was taking about are the Seven Sisters, Mystra's "daughters". And I put "daughters" in quotations because Mystra possessed the body of a woman named Elué and impregnated her without her consent. She slept with the woman's husband (again, while possessing her body) and made them sire seven children. This of course lead to Elué's death because the constant flow of magic in her body was too much for her to handle. Her grieving husband broke after she died and eventually left, abandoning his daughters and earning Mystra's scorn...as if he was in the wrong. The sisters were then orphaned and raised by foster families.
That said, most of the awful things anyone can say about Mystra were the doings of her previous incarnations so ultimately it doesn't apply to the Mystra of BG3. In fact, this third Mystra is supposed to be a new and improved goddess who's nicer to her followers. So her portrayal in BG3 annoyed a lot of DnD fans. I should also point out that Mystra has two types of fans: ones who will defend everything she does, even when it's fucked up beyond all comprehension, and the ones who will tell you she's a true neutral goddess capable of good and bad. I'm the latter. There are plenty examples of Mystra sticking her neck out for innocents, but there's also examples of her doing the most horrendous shit imaginable.
A lot of veteran players, at least the ones I know, are upset with the portrayal of Mystra in BG3 because her plan to end the Absolute is, quite frankly, stupid. Your party is the best chance anyone has of ending the threat, but she asks Gale to nuke himself and possibly tens of thousands, which makes no sense because she could've just sent her mages/clerics to deal with the problem. And there was no guarantee the bomb would've worked anyway. She put all the responsibility on one man and it DEFINITELY comes off as vindictive. That isn't out if character for her but she's not SUPPOSED to be that bad anymore. For a lot of DnD players it felt like she was reverting back to her old habits.
I think there's also a part in the game where you can directly ask Gale why she doesn't just blip the Absolute out of existence and he says something like, "She could but Ao won't allow it." That was also really strange for a lot of veteran players to hear because Gale drops Ao's name like it's nothing. Most people (especially if they're new to the franchise) wouldn't know this but most people in Faerûn don't know who Ao is! Because he wiped people's memories of his existence! I suppose it does make sense for Gale to know that name, since Mystra probably explained the pantheon to him, but it's VERY unlikely tav would know it. So during that conversation all I could picture was tav tilting their head like, "Huh? Who? Whaaa?"
And on top of that......Ao absolutely WOULD allow it because the Absolute effects the Weave and every other god! It had the potential to ruin the balance of the universe, which makes Ao a very angry boy. Balance is one of the ONLY things he cares about. The Dead Three were stealing souls and worshippers, which gods needs to survive, and dying gods disrupts the balance. It's a whole circle of chaos. So the only conclusion left for me to extrapolate is this: Mystra just really, really wanted Gale to kill himself to prove his devotion to her. Which...isn't great. Bad look for her.
It's kind of like how Raphael thinks the Crown of Karsus is going to help him end the Blood War and take over the hells. DnD players laughed during his epilogue because...no it won't lol. He doesn't stand a chance even with the crown. He's arrogant and he's gonna get slapped by his daddy and all the other archdevils, the same way Gale gets slapped by Mystra if he ascends. Even the Absolute ending of the game wouldn't last long because the gods would go to war with the Dead Three, wipe them out and rebuild Faerûn, which has happened many times in past DnD campaigns. Mystra alone has torn worlds apart and glued them back together. The main crisis of BG3 is saving the world you live in or everybody dies. For the gods it's just a Tuesday. I mean look at how Withers owns the Dead Three with a wave of his hand at the end of the game. Mystra COULD'VE killed the Absolute, just as she could've removed the orb from Gale's chest the moment it happened. She just didn't WANT to. She wanted him to die. She wanted him to chastise himself. She wanted him to suffer and come crawling back to her as an obedient follower. She wanted him to learn a harsh and honestly unfair lesson, which is a terrible throwback to her previous incarnations.
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just-some-random-blogger · 8 months ago
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Hii!
I just came across your empress work with kylo ren and i absolutely loved it.
But i was wondering...
Could you maybe write something like that but with kylo marring a jedi reader to restore balance and peace to the galaxy?
Say That Again
"-- say it," Kylo mutters. His voice becomes shaky, "I want to hear you say it."
Kylo Ren x Jedi!Reader | 1k+ | cw: gender neutra!reader, implied kidnapping, violence/mentions of injury, lovers to enemies, pining, angst, typos, etc.
A/N: this req is remix of this anon's and @copiasratsstuff request where basically YN refers to Kylo with his first name and it makes him snap. also T_T i had to send myself this anon ask because i accidentally posted this WITHOUT ANYTHING on the post LMAO. i hope you enjoy it my loves <3 <3 <3 tbh I think this turned out better than what I had in mind slayyyyed
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My heart pounds as I run down the halls. My hands were tingling and moistened with agitation. I huff when I catch sight of the space craft.
I swipe an arm and, using my Force, a pair of stormtroopers crash to the side, clearing my passage.
The footsteps thundering towards me grows louder when I get to the ship and pry the door open with my Force. Just as I'm about to get into the vehicle, a scorching blow hits my leg, then my shoulder. A loud cry leaves my lips before I can even think.
Similarly, I hear painful screaming from afar. "Didn't I say to hold your fire?!"
My panic heightens at the echo of that voice. Through the excruciating pain, I tell myself to push forward. This was it, after all, this was the opening to the freedom I was waiting for.
But the next thing I knew, a dark Force overcame me, and I didn't have enough strength to break free of it.
I thud into the arms of my captor, and whine in pain. I clench my jaw and slowly lift my eyes, glaring at him.
My expression is vaguely reflected on the Supreme Leader's black mask. He sighs before speaking, "you reap what you sow."
I growl and hiss, "and soon will you."
He carries me in his arms, all the way back to my prison cell. He sets me down on his bed l, and as he takes off his helmet, I fling him back with Force, making him lose his balance.
The man doesn't topple though. What only happens is his dark hair falls onto his face. He tilts his head, "childish."
I scoff, "I'm glad you're self-aware."
The Sith Lord says nothing in response. He walks off, props his helmet on his cabinet, and opens a drawer. He walks over to me with bandages and ointment.
I raise a brow as he sits on my side, "you're not going to heal me?"
"The pain will be good for you," he replies, grabbing my injured leg with little regard.
I whine and shift to lessen my discomfort. He begins to lather ointment on my laser gash.
As he does this in silence, and as I behold his profile, his nose, his lips, his lashes, I see flashes of the past from his face. I see a memory of when we were younger, both still under the guidance of our master, Luke. I see his sweet smile, hear his soft laugh, feel his tender kiss... my Ben.
Of course, we were young fools in love. Deep down, we knew we could never be; attachments were dangerous. And yet he promised me himself and I promised him myself, and somehow he believes that was the same as us being married.
That was why he captured me. That was why he was binding my wounds. That was why he was unwilling to let me go. According to him, I was the balance the galaxy craved, I was the balance he long yearned for.
"We are married," he says, a-matter-of-factly.
My face sours, "get out of my head."
"Even if you did, even if you managed to run," he turns to me, one hand gripping my knee, "you think I would just let you go?"
We stare at each other for a while.
"After all I've done to have you?" he narrows his eyes.
"You wouldn't be able to find me," I lean in as I retort.
He leans closer, "and yet you would eventually surrender because your heart is weak."
I whine when he pulls the bandage around me tighter than necessary.
"Your soft heart would not bear the destruction I'd exact on the stars to find you," he ties the bandage and turns back to me. He scoffs under his breath, "you and your empathy."
The last of what remained of Ben Solo stared at me. Perhaps I was the only one delusional enough to see it. He was barely there in face, and in soul, I fear he may be lost forever.
I turn away.
He releases my leg and grabs my arm, "take your top off."
I decide not to put up a fight, there was no point. I take my burnt top off so he could wrap the injury on my shoulder blade.
He moves me so my back is turned to him. He stares at my wound for a prolonged moment. I am tempted to look back at him when I realize he felt pity for me.
"You shouldn't have run."
I don't look back, "you shouldn't have chased after-" I hiss when he applies ointment on my burn.
"You shouldn't have run," he repeats, harder this time.
"Kylo, please-"
"What?"
I look over my shoulder.
"What did you just call me?"
His expression is that of shock and excitement. I quickly correct myself, "Ben. Your name is B-"
"That's not my name," he raises a finger, "that's not what you said-"
"That's what I mea-"
"Say that again, say it," Kylo mutters. His voice becomes shaky, "I want to hear you say it."
I clench my jaw and shake my head. "Your name is Ben Solo."
He releases a deep breath.
I grab his cheeks. It was the first time I had ever willingly touched him, and so tenderly at that, "that is your name. That is who you--"
"Ben is dead," Kylo grabs my wrists, yanking me away from him.
My heart races when I feel the hot air from his lungs.
"I am all that's left," he whispers, brows furrowing. His voice is shaky again, "Ben was weak. He could not even speak his love for you out loud," he shakes his head, "not me. I would make sure the whole galaxy knows my love for you."
I gasp when he grabs my face and kisses me. I immediately shove him away, and when I do, this man with wide, glassy eyes stares back at me.
For once, his face evokes something more than anger out of me. I see his desperation and it pinches my heart.
"Ben-"
"That's not my name," he blurts, snapping out of his trance and jumping to his feet. His moment of vulnerability was over. Staring down at me now was no one else besides the Supreme Leader of the First Order. He wipes his face and blankness falls on his features.
I mean to call his name out again but he speaks before I can.
"I will have a medic attend to your wounds," he says flatly, "don't think to flee while I'm gone."
I watch him walk out of the door.
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demigod-jack-hearth · 6 months ago
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THIS IS A SELF INSERT PJO OC RP BLOG
Please don't send donation asks because 1, I'm a minor and can't donate, 2, I feel guilty that I can't donate and 3, I can't tell whether they're scams or not
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Moodboard by @reyna4ever
TWs
(mental health issues, SH, suicidal mentions, SA, occasionally gore, swearing)
Family is the most important thing
Name: Jack Hearth she/her
Age: 17. Birthday= 16th December
Sexuality : pansexual
Height : 6"2 (WOOOO, growth spurt)
Gender : female (jack's gone fully fem)
Pronouns : she/her
Godly parent: none/adopted by Hestia @unproblematic-hestia
Legacy of @bast-the-best26 (Egyptian goddess of cats)
Relationship status : single
Patrons
warm orange eyes, swimmers build, celestial bronze hand
Fatal flaw: low self-esteem + personal loyalty
Backstory :
parents died in a car crash, and she was chased by hellhounds, this is where Hestia found and saved her life, she then named her, her champion even if she is mortal, she then helped her get to CHB where she stayed for 6 years, before moving to CJ after the second giant war. She now moves between camps quite often
Powers : fire manipulation, can heal with fire, fire immunity, can summon food, charmspeak, manipulate love, enhanced agility, enhanced senses, partially immortal, plant manipulation, emotion manipulation, can communicate with cats, hydrokinetic, can speak with snakes, can sense monsters, can shapeshift, can control the winds, heals from moonlight, more energy from the moon, can cause someone to go insane, can communicate with dragons, can slightly control dragons, can create hallucinations
Parents : dead
Adopted by
@unproblematic-hestia = mom
@damiedantediane = dad
@mache-of-greece = mama
Siblings :
@thegroovydaughterofhestia
@unfortunate-daughter-of-hestia
@iceweavercatlover
Kids
Face claim :
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Cat form
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His weapons
There's 2 of these ⬇️
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Important starters
Few occ notes
I also run the blog @in-this-together-forever @jacks-best-kid @snowflake-spawn @the-olympus-assassin
OCC is gender fluid - please use they/them unless I've specified
Occ is pan - I will make a lot of jokes about it
A lot of British jokes will be made - I am British
Fanart ⬇️
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the-marshals-wife · 7 months ago
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Strangers Like Me (Orm Marius x Reader)
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─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
A/N: I love Orm so, so much, and I've wanted to write for him since my major obsession with the first movie back in 2019. The sequel was everything I could have wanted for his character, and now that he's had the perfect open ending to his cinematic story, I finally let the inspiration run wild. This is the longest fic I've ever posted, and I'm proud to say he was the muse that inspired it.
Description: Orm Marius/Ocean Master x Fem!Reader (human), friends to lovers | Warnings: suggestive themes, steaminess at the end, cataclysmic levels of fluff throughout | Setting: after The Lost Kingdom | Word count: 5.8k
Gif credit: user acecroft
Imagine Orm opening up to you about who he truly is, and wanting to be part of your world
If someone had asked you a few months ago where you liked to be most, you wouldn't have said the boardwalk. Now, it'd become your favorite place in the world. Not for the noisy crowds, overpriced deep-fried foods, or vendors overflowing with cheap beachwear and souvenirs for the tourists. Those things you could have done without. That is, until you met Orm. Ever since that fateful day, everything around you had transformed into something new and exciting. Today was no different.
"I can't believe you've never had a corn dog before," you say.
Orm walks alongside you, well into his second serving. "And I can't believe something this abysmal in appearance can taste so good," he replies before taking another bite.
"Seriously, what have you been eating all this time?" you ask, wiping the mustard from the corner of your mouth with a napkin.
He swallows before answering, "Fish, mostly."
He was completely serious, as usual.
"You really love seafood, don't you?"
"Where I'm from, it's just called food," he counters.
Once again, you found yourself wanting to ask where exactly that place was. The last time you inquired yielded little insight. He gave a vague reply to the tune of "somewhere far away" and quickly changed the subject. For a while, you'd assumed he was originally European or something like that. Yet the more time went on, the more difficult it became to believe in that explanation. There must be a reason he did not want to talk about it, and you knew when he was ready, he would probably tell you. Still, you couldn't help but wonder where he had come from, and why he had not showed up sooner.
"So, what did you think of your first corn dog?" you ask instead.
"It was excellent. And I imagine it will not be my last," he says, tossing the stick into a trashcan as you walk by, "I still don't understand the name though, if it's not made of dog."
"Me either, honestly," you laugh as you toss your trash as well, "I'll have to look it up sometime."
"Speaking of, I listened to the singer you told me about."
"You did? What did you think?!" you exclaim, almost bumping into a passerby in your excitement.
"She is quite good, vocally. But I do think Ms. Parton would have more success exposing her rival publicly," he suggests.
"I know you're not talking about Jolene right now," you burst out laughing, covering your mouth.
"Indeed. This Jolene is a siren. She lures men with her wiles, and then goes unpunished because of her beauty," he explains wholeheartedly, holding his arms behind his back.
"Well that's the point of the song. Dolly is calling her out," you remind, "Plus what about her man? Shouldn't he get some of the blame? Falling for Jolene when he's already in a relationship? I mean come on, he's talking about her in his sleep. That's pretty low."
"Indeed, he misses the treasure that is right in front of him because he too has no honor," he expounds, his expression turning thoughtful, "You're right. Ultimately, they're deserving of each other."
"See! I told you," you chuckle victoriously.
Orm shakes his head, "I could not be tempted by such a woman."
"Oh, I don't know. You heard Dolly. Her beauty is 'beyond compare'."
"That is merely a facade," he dismisses, waving his hand, "Besides, I have seen far more beautiful than her."
You're about to inquire about his remark, but then you realize he's looking over at you. You can only hold his attentive gaze a moment before averting your eyes toward your feet, heart fluttering.
The previous moment still hanging heavy in the air, you walk together quietly for a minute before Orm stops in front of a beachwear vendor.
"Now that is amusing," he declares.
You backup a couple of steps to stand alongside him, "What is?"
He points to a pink tee shirt, the image of a mermaid riding on the back of a smiling dolphin printed on the front. "Dolphins are actually quite aggressive. They do not enjoy having riders on their backs. Sharks are much better mounts."
You stare at him, brow furrowed. "And how do you know that exactly?"
"I, uh, saw it on a television program," he stutters, "about taming sea life."
That was a lie if you'd ever heard one, and a strange one no less.
"Uh-huh," you reply unconvinced, walking away.
In silence, you resume your short walk to the end of the dock, Orm trailing close behind you. Once you reach the end, you lean over and rest your arms on the weathered wood railing, and he stands beside you. A few moments pass as you watch the waves crash upon the shore below and breathe in the salt air. It's not long before you feel his gaze on you once again.
He finally speaks, hesitation thick in his voice, "Something...on your mind?"
You smirk to yourself before looking over at him, "I'm just trying to figure you out."
"What do you mean?" he asks, concern visible in his bright eyes.
"I've never met anyone like you before. So much of what you say is a mystery," you remark.
"That is a fair point," he concedes, "I don't wish to vex you. There's just...so much that I don't know how to say."
You stand up straighter, smiling at him softly.
"I didn't mean it as a bad thing. Everyone has parts of themselves that they hide. Parts they don't want anyone else to see. There's nothing wrong with that," you reply, turning towards the ocean, "You don't like talking about your past, and I respect that. I just don't want you to think you have to hide. It's awful feeling like you don't belong, just for being yourself. I wouldn't want that for you."
"That is kind of you to say. Truly." He mirrors your posture on the railing, moving closer to you as a result. "You don't make me want to hide, Y/N. Quite the opposite, actually. I've learned so many things from you these past few weeks, and I have greatly enjoyed your company."
You look back to him, your heart skipping, "So have I."
His gaze softens. "I've also never met anyone like you before. You find joy and purpose in even the smallest of things. It inspires me how gracefully you view the world. And I've known no one whom I've wanted to share it with more."
Everything else around you melted away as you find yourself becoming just as lost in his eyes as you've been in his words.
Before either of you can move an inch closer, the chime of your cellphone cuts through the thick air between you.
Cursing inwardly, you shoot upright, embarrassed, and retrieve it from your pocket. It's an all-caps text from your sister with many exclamation marks, quickly followed by another. The sister you just now realized you forgot needed picked up.
"Oh no. I have to go," you say, frenzied, "My sister's waiting for me. I have to drive her home from her class, I completely forgot!"
"I understand," he nods, touching your arm assuringly, "Do you want me to accompany you back to the lot?"
"I really appreciate it, but I literally have to run. I'm so sorry, Orm," you say, turning to leave.
You make it only a few steps before you hear him call out.
"Y/N!"
Despite the urgency of your escape, you can't help but turn on your heel expectantly.
"Would you meet me tomorrow? Down on the beach, beneath the pier around sunset?"
A grin spreads across your face. "I'll be there!"
It took everything in you not to grin like an idiot the entire drive to pick up your less-than-amused sister. You weren't ready for the brutal interrogation that would surely come if she saw the look you knew was on your face. After apologizing to her profusely and letting her chew you out, as was her sisterly right, her suspicions were already raised.
"You've never looked this happy for me to yell at you," she said, glaring at you.
"I'm just really enjoying my book! I started the sequel I told you about," you defended, flashing a smile even you knew was pretty fake.
"Enough to forget all about me," she rolled her eyes and punched your arm, "You're not telling me something, I know it."
"I'm dying to know if she's really the lost heir to the throne, I heard the reveal is like halfway through," you add, ignoring her last words.
"Mhm," she grumbled, "Fine don't tell me. I'll figure it out, just wait. You can't hide from me."
"The only thing I need to hide from you is my chocolate bars," you argue in a desperate attempt to throw her off the subject.
"I'll find those too," she snickered confidently.
You laughed it off and went back to biting down hard on your lip. It was the only thing you could do not to spill everything to her as she continued to give you the side-eye. Your body was at the steering wheel, but your mind, and your heart, were back on that boardwalk. The final glare she gave you in her driveway was unmissable, but for now, you'd evaded being found out as you made a getaway back to your own apartment.
That night you'd hardly slept, the moment at the end of the dock replaying in your mind over and over well into the morning. Work only made it worse, the monotony making the perfect backdrop to picture what the coming evening would bring. When your shift ended, you couldn't get out of there fast enough to go home and change.
Now, with sunset fast approaching, you were circling the parking lot trying to find a space, and close to bribing someone to move, when a spot finally opened up.
"Someone loves me," you exhale, hurriedly locking your car as you throw your bag over your shoulder.
The words linger in your thoughts. You can't help but blush at the notion, given your current destination, and who was waiting there.
In some ways it seemed like a lifetime since you met Orm, and in others it felt like only yesterday. The memory of that fateful day comes to the front of your thoughts as you start the long trek to the path that cuts through the dunes.
Unlike your fib from last night, you'd actually been desperate to finish the book your coworker had been pestering you about all summer. With only four chapters left, you'd escaped to the boardwalk one sunny Tuesday afternoon, hoping to find a bench, a fresh lemonade, and far less crowds than the weekend so that you could finally finish in peace.
Just as you'd sucked up the last drop of your drink and reached the last handful of pages, you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. On a bench across the way from you, you saw a man trying to untangle the most knotted pair of earbuds you'd ever seen in your life. You watched him from behind the top of your book, and suppressed a giggle as he became more animated in frustration. He ran a hand through his blond hair and seemed near to giving up on the whole endeavor. Unable to watch him struggle any longer, you tucked your book beneath your arm, tossed your empty cup in the trash, and started to walk over.
"He did this on purpose," he muttered as you approached.
"I can take a crack at them, if you'd like."
In his fierce concentration, he hadn't noticed you approach. He jumped a bit at your greeting, and squinted up at you, confused.
"Hi. Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Would you like some help with those?" you smiled hesitantly, "I just, I couldn't help but notice you were having a hard time with them."
"Well, you are welcome to try," he invited with a sigh, extending them to you, "Although I have seen seaweed less entangled than this."
You took them and sat down beside him, analyzing the knots.
"Earbuds are pretty notorious for getting tangled," you began, pausing to focus a moment, "These, however, look like a sailor used them to practice tying his knots."
"Courtesy of my brother," he said with no small amount of exasperation, "He delights in making things difficult for me."
"As brothers are wont to do."
"Indeed," he conceded.
Untying your own numerous pairs of earbuds over the years had more than prepared you for this moment. You'd made quick work of separating the right and left buds, down to the last few kinks in each.
"You're quite skilled at this," he observed.
"I should probably put it on my resume, huh?" you chuckled as you conquered the final knot.
"I think you might consider it," he laughed as well.
At last, all the tangles were gone.
"There you go," you declared, handing them back, "Good as new."
"Impressive," he remarked, marveling at your handiwork before looking back at you, "Thank you for your assistance."
"You're welcome," you smiled and pointed to the iPod in his lap, "What do you like to listen to, if you don't mind me asking?"
He hesitated, picking it up, "I'm...not actually sure how this device works. Are you familiar with the technology?"
"An iPod?" you laugh, "Yeah, I had one in high school. It's been a while and it wasn't this exact model, but they're all pretty much the same. MP3 players, that is. I had so many songs on mine, I couldn't add any more. Never went anywhere without it. I had to tape it together in senior year because I used it so much."
"Perhaps you could show me how to properly operate it?" he posed, turning towards you more, "My brother sent it to me. He said it contains music inside that I must hear, but I'm at a loss on knowing how to make it play."
You gazed at him bewildered a moment, caught off guard. Never had you met anyone who didn't know how to work an iPod before. But then again, you reminded yourself, not everyone had a chance to own one.
"Sure," you grinned, "I can show you. There's not too much to it, really, once you know the basics."
"Thank you," he replied sincerely, "It's not often that I've met a lady with such kindness, and lightness of fingers."
Heat immediately rushed to your cheeks at his gracious works, and suddenly it was difficult to hold the gaze of his rich blue eyes.
"It's no problem at all," you replied, offering your hand, "I'm Y/N, by the way. Nice to meet you."
"I'm Orm Marius, and the pleasure is mine."
Before you could blink, he'd taken your hand, and instead of shaking it, he kissed your knuckles. If he had lingered, perhaps it would have alarmed you. But he did it so quickly, it was like it was second-nature to him. Practiced or not, your head spun nonetheless, and launching into an urgent, flustered spiel about how to power on the iPod was all you could do to keep yourself held together.
You spent the next half an hour showing him everything from the buttons to the way to change the background image on the menus. Before long, you were talking about all of your favorite songs and artists, simultaneously making lists for each that he would have to listen to. Orm listened eagerly to your recommendations, and soon the conversation turned to any and every subject, from foods to places to dreams. You still remember the feeling of the rest of the world fading away as you talked to him, afternoon turning to evening. And the thrill you felt when he asked if he could see you again.
In the almost four months since, every meeting followed much in the same manner as that first day, with introducing Orm to the many things he'd never experienced before, and hours of conversation on the pier or walking along the beach. You'd stolen away to this area as many times as possible to see him, well over a dozen now. Of course your sister was more suspicious than ever after yesterday, but you still weren't ready to reveal where you'd been spending so many evenings, and who you'd spent them with. There was something exhilarating about you and Orm meeting secretly, and you wanted that feeling to last as long as possible.
He had such wonder about the world, like someone who'd not been in it very long. It was one of his oddest qualities, but his curiosity was endearing to you. Despite knowing so little about his past, you'd come to trust him like few others in your life. Whoever he'd been before, and wherever he was from, it seemed he had no intention on going back. If you were honest with yourself, you didn't want him to. There were so many places you wanted to take him further inland, yet he was still hesitant to go far from from the ocean. You'd never gone beyond a couple of blocks from the boardwalk together, but tonight, with the energy of yesterday's encounter fresh in your mind, you'd planned to breech the topic with him.
Now, the sun is sinking lower in the pale orange sky and your pulse quickens with the threat of being late. With all your reminiscing and daydreaming, you'd lost track of the time. You nearly run across the wooden walkway over the dunes and down the broad stairs. As soon as your feet hit the sand, you remove your sandals. Grasping them in one hand and the strap of your bookbag in the other, you take off into the best sprint you can manage. The pier is still a good distance up the beach, and you want to curse out whoever built the access so far away. You run at an angle towards the water, the wetter ground giving you better traction than the loose sand.
Just within the shadow of the great structure, you finally see Orm up ahead, his back turned. Out of breath, you slow your pace and try to catch some of it back before you reach him. Once he's within ear shot you call out to him.
"I'm sorry I left in such a hurry yesterday," you pant.
He spins on his heel. Relief is written all over his face.
"You came. I was afraid you might not," he sighs, walking up to meet you.
"Of course," you exhale, dropping your shoes and brushing away the hair clinging to your forehead, "Why wouldn't I?"
His expression indicates he had not thought of an answer to that question.
"I don't know," he hesitates, "I didn't mean anything by that. I mean, I wouldn't have blamed you if you hadn't. I did ask you at the last minute."
You can't help but chuckle as he stumbles regretfully all over his words.
"I brought you something," you declare to change the subject, much to his gratitude.
"A gift? For me?"
You can tell by his tone that he is actually baffled. Reaching into your satchel, you retrieve the item. In your outstretched palm, you hold a small snow globe, a miniature skyline of New York City contained inside.
His confused expression leads you to elaborate. "It's called a snow globe," you say, turning it upside down so that the little flakes inside swirl around, "You told me once that you never get to see snow where you're from. Now you can see it whenever you want."
He tentatively takes it, entranced by the miniature flurry.
"That's where I'm from. Well, I grew up there. We moved here when I was sixteen," you add, chuckling, "It's a little bit nicer in person."
Orm looks up at you, visibly touched by the gesture, "It's wonderful. Thank you."
"You're welcome," you smile, "I, hope that I can show you the real thing some day."
"I would like that," he replies with the smallest hint of sadness, pausing to behold it again, "I will treasure this always."
You'd never met anyone who talked like he did. Everything word he spoke was with full conviction. Others might sound pompous or conceited speaking the way he does, but when he said something, you believed he truly meant it.
"I'm glad you like it," you say, tucking your hair behind your ear.
"I do, very much," he says, frowning a bit, "I'm only sorry that I have nothing to give you in return."
"That's alright," you dismiss.
"Will you keep it safe for me while we are by the water? I regret that I have no pockets large enough to carry it."
"Absolutely," you say, putting it securely back inside your bag, "I know that feeling all too well."
When you finish with the zipper and lift your head up, you see Orm offering his arm to you. Surprised, and twice as excited, you take it.
As you cross beneath the pier and set off down the beach together, you suppress the urge to glance up at him. You agonize over what to say next, hoping he would speak first. When he did, it only made your heart beat faster.
"Actually, when I said I had nothing to give you, that was not entirely true," he said, clearing his throat before going on, "As much as I enjoy your educating me in foods and traditions I've never tried, I was hoping this evening we might enjoy a treat of a different kind."
Just up ahead, something on the shore comes into view. Your mind races in anticipation, and moments later, you come upon a blue blanket spread out neatly across the sand. A single white rose lies in the middle.
"Oh Orm," you breathe.
"It's not much, but I thought you would like to watch the sunset with at least some level of comfort," he says, a veil of nervousness in his voice.
"It's perfect," you exclaim.
He releases your arm and picks up the rose, presenting it to you.
"For you."
You feel nearly breathless once more as you take the flower and inhale its sweet fragrance.
"It's beautiful," you sigh, "Thank you."
He smiles timidly at your approval. "Shall we?"
"This is amazing," you say, removing your bag and carefully sitting down on the soft blanket.
He follows suit, and you gently place the rose in your lap as he comes to rest close beside you. The glow of the setting sun warms your skin, but it's nothing compared to the warmth in your chest.
You'd never seen him act like this before. He was normally so calm and collected, but now he was almost pure nerves. You work up the courage to glance over at him. He's staring hard ahead, clenching his jaw and rolling a seashell between his fingers. It's slowly becoming clear that you're not the only one who wanted to say something this evening. Normally, you found the rolling of the waves to be one of most soothing sounds in the world. But at this moment, they were far too loud.
You decide you have to break the excruciating silence.
"I've only watched a true beach sunset alone before."
Your voice brings him out from his trance. "I've also been by myself. I'm glad I have someone to share the splendor with."
"Me too."
He smiles weakly, and fixes his stare back on the horizon.
To your disappointment, the silence returns. Before long, everything is bathed in golden light. The sky transforms into rich oranges and reds before your eyes. The beach is surprisingly deserted apart from the seagulls and sand pipers, making it seem all the more that this moment was tailor-made just for the two of you.
Just when you're about to speak again, Orm at last turns towards you.
"I wish I could show you my world, Y/N. It is a realm of beauty, and strength, and light. You belong in such a place."
You feel your cheeks flush as he continues.
"Where I'm from, you can't see the stars at night. But there is a place with magnificent, glowing lights. A cave, filled with luminescence of every color you can imagine. You would absolutely love it."
"That sounds magical." You hang on his every word as you try to picture it.
"My mother used to take me there when I was a boy. I remember my whole hand disappearing inside hers." He smiled at the memory, but it faded as he spoke once more, "We used to go there seeking solace from my father."
Frowning, he throws the seashell towards the water. The sun begins to dissolve into the ocean, but neither of you take notice.
"Did you not get along?" you ask, hoping it was not too personal to do so.
His gaze falls downward again. "That's one way of putting it. Growing up in his shadow was- challenging. He was severe about many things, and against all of the rest. He expected me to become just like him. Demanded it, more like. Yet he was never up to the task of teaching me how. I wanted nothing more than to please him, but as I look back on it now, I'm not sure that I ever did. I was never worthy enough to be his son."
His words make your chest ache. You reach to gently touch his hand on the blanket.
"You are not an unworthy son," you assert, your feelings coming to the surface, "He was an unworthy father. I don't need to have met him to know that. Because I know you, and you are a good man. The most thoughtful, polite, decent man I've ever met."
He stares at you, emotion all over his face. A wistful look shines in his eyes.
"If only I had known you then," he reflects, "Perhaps I would not have gotten so lost in the tides of his storm."
"I wish I had known you too," you agree, more shyly than you'd expected, "But wouldn't have needed me. You already survived it, all on your own. You're stronger than he ever was."
His expression steels.
"Y/N, there is something I must tell you," he says, his tone turning grave, "It will not be easy for you to hear it, but I can't go on without you knowing what I am. I cannot hide it any longer. You deserve to know the truth."
Your heart starts to race quicker than your thoughts at his startling declaration. "What do you mean?"
Without warning, he casts off his jacket and stands up.
"Orm, what are you talking about?"
"Perhaps, it would be better if I showed you," he says, reaching out his hand to you, "I want you to understand. No more secrets."
For just a moment, you look up into his pleading eyes. Then, as if it had even been a choice, you carefully set the rose aside and take his hand. He helps you to your feet and leads you down past the water's edge. The cool water on your feet sends a shiver up your spine. The foam is lapping at your ankles when he stops just in front of you.
"You see that marker?" he points ahead.
The breeze whips your hair into your sight as you fight to push it away. You have to squint to see the outline of the buoy, the red light on top twinkling faintly in the twilight.
"Yes," you hesitate.
"Keep your eye on it," he directs calmly.
With that one instruction, he retreats further into the water, stopping until it is well above his waist. You cross your arms against the chill of sea spray and wait worriedly. He looks up and down the beach, as if to make sure no one is watching. You are still alone. Before you can call out to him, he dives headlong into the waves.
What follows you can only describe as a thunder beneath the water. It looks as if a missile has been launched from where Orm stood, careening toward the marker. Mere seconds later, a blast like a whale spout shoots above the horizon, and the buoy rocks violently as it is landed upon by the figure that flew up out of the sea.
A gasp escapes from your agape mouth as you witness the silhouette wave at you, and proceed to dive back into the blue.
Three pounding heartbeats later, Orm immerges from the surf and walks toward you, slicking back his dripping hair. His tee shirt clings to his muscular form, and his soaked jeans don't seem to encumber him at all. You're frozen in the sand, staring at him with only one word on your parted lips.
"How..."
"There's no simple way to say it, but you must know. I am from the Kingdom of Atlantis," he confesses, struggling to hold your stare, "I am Prince Orm Marius, son of Queen Atlanna. Although I was once ruler, I made many mistakes during my time on the throne for which I was banished. My penance is served by my exile here on the surface. I deserve my fate, and I gladly uphold it, but it is not something I wanted to keep from you any longer. I'm sorry that I was not honest with you sooner, but I didn't think that I could trust any surface-dweller with my secret. I was...proven wrong."
"You're a real Atlantean?" you manage to get out.
"I am," he nods, apprehension still in his voice, "I was raised to hate the surface and its inhabitants, but much has changed. You, Y/N, have had no small part in that."
Despite your reeling head, it's slowly becoming clear what Orm is saying by this grand unveiling of his true identity. As you struggle to process it, however, your silence compels him to go on.
"If all of this is too much, I understand. It is my burden to bear, and you did not ask to be part of it."
"I-It's not that," you stammer as the shock starts to wear off. You step closer to him. "Not at all. It's just a lot to take in. I need a minute, that's all. I promise."
Hope lights up his eyes.
"Absolutely," he agrees eagerly, "I apologize, I know this reveal was sudden. Please ask any questions that you have. I will withhold nothing from you."
As you finally begin look at him instead of through him, only one question lodged in your throat.
"Why?" you ask through threatening tears, "Why did you tell me all this?"
You knew why, because it was the same reason you wanted to tell him all of your own secrets. The same reason you came back to this beach over and over. The same reason your heart skipped every time you saw his handsome face, and heard him speak your name. You just wanted to hear him say it. For any of this to work, you needed to hear it.
His anxious gaze softens as he weighs his answer.
"I meant every word of what I told you yesterday. When I'm with you, I see a future that I never thought I would deserve. You make me feel like I can be more than I've ever been. And for the first time in my life, I have felt true happiness," he says, finding the words along with his conviction, "I never thought I would belong anywhere but Atlantis, but now, I want to know more about this world and its many gifts. And most of all, I want you to be by my side to show it to me."
"I want that too," you respond, tears threatening.
He gently takes your hand in his. "Even after all that I've done, part of me hoped that I might find some kind of redemption here on the surface. I wasn't sure how, and then I met you," he says tearfully, searching your eyes, "Y/N, you gave me that hope. Your goodness, your charity, your beauty. This realm has much to offer, more than I ever dreamed, but you are what I love most about the surface. From that very first day we spoke, I knew that you were what I was meant to find here."
Your vision blurs as he reaches to gently stroke your cheek.
"All of that to say...I've fallen in love with you, Y/N."
A sob escapes your throat as you look into his eyes and see it.
"I fell for you too. From the first day," you nod, finding your own confidence, "Being Atlantean doesn't change that. I don't care about who you've been or what you've done. I want to be with you. I love you too, Orm."
His composure crumbles along with yours as you embrace. The distance between you vanishes as your lips meet in a desperate kiss. You rest your hands on his chest and melt into his touch. He sighs and deepens the kiss, pulling you close against him. You feel the coolness of this still-dripping clothes soak through to your skin as you become lost in the taste of salt and longing. When you're forced to come up for air, you're both beaming.
"I've wanted to do that for so long," he smiles, caressing your face.
"Me too," you giggle, lacing your arms around his neck, "What did you think of your first surface-dweller kiss?"
"Not too bad. I think I'll have to try it again before I decide if I really like it," he smirks.
"Well, if you get me out of this frigid water, I'll see what I can do about that," you tease back.
"Now that I can do," he announces.
You shriek in surprise as he swiftly lifts you from the water and into his arms as if you weighed nothing at all. He chuckles in amusement and carries you bridal style back toward the shore.
"Orm!" you protest, in an obviously half-hearted fashion.
"I have to admit, concealing my Atlantean strength has been considerably more difficult than I anticipated," he reveals, wincing a bit, "I intended to bring a bottle of wine tonight as well, but- the glass here is far weaker than what I'm accustomed to."
You laugh. "Well, it's the thought that counts."
"I'm glad you think so. Because I thought since I'm responsible for us missing the best part of the sunset, that perhaps we could lie under the stars instead?" he suggests, setting you down gently on your feet upon the blanket.
"I would love to," you say, looking up at him, "But aren't you freezing in those clothes?"
"I'm used to it," he shrugs, "I don't think I feel the cold the same as you."
"In that case," you say, pulling him closer into a tender kiss, "What do you think about that?"
He grins.
"It was perfect, and I'm certain it will not be my last."
You no longer feel the chill as you cling to him, and he rests his forehead to yours. It didn't matter where the tides of life would take you next. As long as Orm was there to hold you in the waves, you would always be in your favorite place.
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