#more like princling

[aravenlovesfanfiction]

[DPxDC Crossovers] next ->

[httpsserene]

ʟᴇᴛ’ꜱ ɢᴏ ɢᴏʟꜰɪɴɢ ᴡ/ ʟɴ4

📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: maybe you shouldn’t be late to any event you go to, or bare minimum don’t make any bets you know you’re not going to win. having no hand-eye coordination is not great when you’re being forced to play golf.

📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: i think i’m funny. one or two dirty jokes. and reader does have a lil injury (nothing bad). not edited at all 😎

📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: the doc says 900 words?? it feels longer idk

📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: lando x black!fem!reader (it’s mainly twitch trio focused-alex,george & lando)

📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smau

📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: swang • rae sremmurd

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: i’d like to remind everyone that the people asked for this hellscape! you 🫵🏽 asked for it. it’s long, like LONG. anyways: max is definitely the type of dude to use the cat emojis. my bad to my charles girlies, he did not make the cut for this 😔 i had to get rid of like three or four ig posts and stories to make this all fit into one tblr post, and none of that had charles content 🫠. also, the plot damn near ran away from me, but it’s barely there—it’s kinda more friend focused than lando x reader until the end! uh there’s one part in here that was inspired by tik tok comments, y’all will know which one 😅 inspired by the fact that my brother hit me with a golf club when i was a child 🙂i think i’m pretty funny so i hope you guys find this funny asl, otherwise what did i do this for?

if you want me to post the outtakes lmk

send me some requests or talk to me pls 😅

want to be on a tag list? tell me in my inbox <3

georgerussell63

liked by lilymhe, mercedesamgf1, and 4,100,123 others

georgerussell63: off to a terrible start for golf day. my girlfriends “wife” is crashing the party, and my mates gf is already -4 after two holes 🙂

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lilymhe: light work 💪🏼 no reaction🥱

user: not his girlfriend’s wife ☠️

➥ user: who does he think keeps carmen’s bed warm when he’s not at home???

alex_albon: welcome to watch mojo! and today we’re counting down our top 10 times our gf’s ditch us for each other 🤨

➥ user: and?

➥ user: what else are they supposed to do alexander 😀

y/ninstagram: put some respeCK on my name princling, or next time i see u its on sight 😡 im aiming the golf club straight at you

➥ georgerussell63: you can’t even hit the golf ball in under three tries, or aim anywhere near the holes

➥ georgerussell63: i think i’ll be fine

➥ y/ninstagram: 😟😐 i'll remember this george william russell, ur asking for it

carmenmmundt: george failed to mention that he’s +3 already

➥ georgerussell: like, literally nobody asked you to say that 😒

➥ landonorris: drag him !!! he doesn’t get to say shit about our wife 😤

➥ carmenmmundt: *my wife

➥ user: lmfaooo im 💀

alex_albon

liked by y/ninstagram, carmenmmundt and 3,431,543 others

alex_albon: ladies and gentlemen, introducing: *my* girlfriend 🤤✨

tagged lilymhe

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y/ninstagram: we MUST stay focused sisters

y/ninstagram: gawd damn‼️ wifey could hit me with that golf club any day

➥ carmenmmundt: fuck the club, i’ll let her run me over w the cart🥴

lilymhe: next hole, i’ll show you guys what a proper stoke is 😏

➥ lilymhe: since our bf’s seem to underperform…on the golf course obv

➥ user: AYOOO?!!

➥ carmenmmundt: okay 😇

➥ y/ninstagram: why r my thighs wet rn

➥ user: dO THEY KNOW THIS IS PUBLIC

alex_albon: i’m at a loss for words

➥ landonorris: this is literally your fault

➥ georgerussell63: can’t believe you mate 🫤

➥ alex_albon: how is this MY fault??! whattddiddiddoo

lilymhe • 5hrs ago

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y/ninstagram: idk y ur complaining? the cart is parked. on its side, but it’s parked😊

carmenmmundt: i think we’ve punished ourselves

alex_albon: should’ve left her ass at home like i said 😒

francisca.cgomes: idk even know why y’all let her drive the cart😨

y/ninstagram • 4 hrs ago

view replies

maxfewtrell: ur joeeee kingggg. ur joe king 😐

francisca.cgomes: i wouldn’t even trust u with the scorecard—but pop off !!! girl boss shit

danielricciardo: SO I HAD TO, GRIND LIKE THAT TO SHINE LIKE THIS 🗣️🗣️‼️💯

lando.jpg

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 3,862,431 others

lando.jpg: “i have the highest score out of everybody here! +26 up on y’all hoes!” - y/n

tagged y/ninstagram

view comments

lando.jpg: BRO SAID ABSOLUTELY NOTHING 🥶🥶🔥🔥🔥

➥ maxfewtrell: SHE SOUNDS FIRE 🔥 ON MUTE ‼️💯

lilymhe: SHE GOT A HIDDEN TALENT 🔥🔥🔥 KEEP IT HIDDEN 🔥🔥🔥

➥ alex_albon: no talent ✅ JUST STRAIGHT ASS 💯💯🗣️🗣️🔥🔥

georgerussell63: THIS IS FIRE 🔥 PUT IT OUT ‼️

user: SHE SPITTING BARS 💯💯💯 PUT HER BEHIND THEM 🔥🔥🔥

user: THE SILENCE IS SO LOUD WHEN THIS HITS 🗣️🔥🔥

user: WE STARTED FROM THE BOTTOM 🔥🔥🔥 NOW WE’RE DIGGING 🗣️🗣️🔥💯‼️🙌🏽🙌🏽

y/ninstagram: y u hurt me 😪

➥ carmenmmundt: i think you’re underrated, honestly <; 3

➥ y/ninstagram: aw ty carmie :)

➥ carmenmmundt: I HOPE IT STAYS THAT WAY 🥶🥶‼️‼️🙌🏻🙌🏻

➥ y/ninstagram: bee-eff-eff-aur: be FUCKING for real 😒

y/ninstagram • 3 hrs ago

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maxverstappen1: i don’t want to laugh—man who TF am i kidding 😹😹😹

alexandrasaintmleux: how THE fuck did u manage to give yourself a concussion??!

carlossainzjr: pobrecita😪 how 😭 terrible 😭 can you tell lando to come over when ur done

carlossainzjr: hello

carlossainzjr: niña i can see you reading my messages

landonorris

liked by carlossainzjr, mclaren, and 6,234,765 others

landonorris: thank you for all the wishes about y/n (not u carlos, you’re in time out). she only has a mild concussion, and verbally assaults me when i wake her up every two hours 😒 to make sure she’s alive 🤗

view comments

landonorris: god forbid i stop her from dying 😱

➥ carlossainzjr: heyyy be nice to her she’s in another world right now

➥ landonorris: u r not slick sainz. don’t expose our affair to my gf when she’s injured

➥ carlossainzjr: she won’t even remember this 🥺

➥ user: sir👁️👄👁️, this is a wendy’s drive through

➥ user: they know this on the internet 4ever right…?

lilymhe: this girl swung the club, missed the ball, and let go of the damn club no follow through

➥ carmenmmundt: it hit the ground and ricocheted back at her

➥ alex_albon: and she got knocked on the forehead hard asl

➥ georgerussell63: the noise it made was hilarious 😂 y’all should’ve been there

➥ user: geORGE WILLIAM????

➥ georgerussell63: i’m mad we didn’t get it on video smh 😔

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems

© httpsserene 2023

[dontfearrr]

for my good friend ! this isn’t silly at all i think it’s so endearing :) @legolas-fan-blog

short and sweet as some would say

Lion and the lamb…or fawn?

gif not mine:)

summary: Reader comes across an injured fawn, Legolas is quick to assist his lady.

Pairing: Legolas x f!elf!reader

Warnings: none

Category: fluff

Word count: still working on this💀

—————————-

The crisp air of the morning kisses your pale cheeks, blowing back your long white locks as your eyes fell shut at the content feeling. Though elves weren’t prone to the cold or anything of that matter, it still was nice to experience every now and then. Your bow was in your right grasp while your head was pointed upward to the sky.

That was until you got a feeling that ran through your abdomen all the way up to the tips of your pointed ears. It took you no more than a blink of an eye to nock an arrow. Pointing in the direction of where your nose told you to. You saw nothing, even your elvish eyes couldn’t see anything near or around you.

WHOOSH.

Your eyes widened at the fallen object in between your feet, it was a bright red apple, pierced by an arrow. Your eyebrow lifted in curiosity seeming as it didn’t look like a threat.

“it would seem as if you’ve let your guard down little one!” a familiar and eye rolling voice shouted as his figure hopped branch to branch until he landed in front of you on two feet as if he was a swift cat. You drew your bow back, placing the arrow back into its holster that was latched to your back along with your bow as you crossed your arms.

“Legolas, you should know it is rude to sneak up on a lady.” you spoke to the white haired ellon with amusement laced in your words. He flashed you a playful smile and reached for the arrow that pierced the apple and pulled it free, taking a large bite of the juicy fruit before stretching his arm toward you, offering it.

You took the apple, copying his actions then handed it back, more like pushing it into his chest with fake arrogance. You heard him chuckle behind you, followed by light, nearly silent footsteps of the princling while you continued your walk through the green forrest. You were there out of boredom, wanting to wonder around and find things you could take back home to add to your collection. So far you’ve found a rock in the shape of a star and a perfectly shaped acorn.

“what brings you out here, my lady?” Legolas spoke as he caught up to your side, beaming down at you like a sweet child with his bow in hand still, a habit the young prince has picked up over the many years he’s been alive. “simply boredom. Elrond has been quiet these days so i’ve had much free time on my hands. i come here to collect meaningless trinkets.” you said, glancing up at his smiling figure, returning a smile.

“care for some company? i’ll be as least annoying as i possibly can, my lady” he teased, knowing he knew how to strike a few nerves in you, never upsetting you but as if he was a lost puppy perhaps. He was a good friend of yours, though you cannot deny the small feelings your heart bared for him.

“i’d love some company, however i better not see anymore rogue apples flying my way.” You giggled a little half way through your sentence at his childish manners but it never failed to entertain you, and he knew that. “deal” he never dropped his proud smile as the two of them walked through the soft evergreen.

You two made conversation until your ears perked up at a sound of displease. You laid your arm across Legolas’ chest to halt his movements and he raised an eyebrow in confusion until he too heard what you had. You jogged toward the sound, hopping and swinging on branches to fasten your movements, Legolas followed suit. To your surprise you spotted an injured fawn laid across the forrest floor, blood pouring out of its leg as it cried in agony. Your heart poured into the scene as you carefully approached the gentle creature. You examined the fawn, making sure it had no other injuries.

There was an arrow pierced through its small thigh, it quivered and jerked at the pain. “god damned hunters” you grimaced at the thought of those wretched beings, cursing your beloved woodland.

“Legolas do you still carry those healing herbs on you?” He nodded and swiftly unbuckled his belt that held his leather pouch and handed it to you. He crouched on the other side of the fawn and looked up at you in worry, he knew how much the forrest meant to you, along with everything in it. He would be damned if he were to stop you from doing such. “i’ll break the arrow and carefully remove it, you’ll need to hold the creature down.” Legolas said in a hushed tone, rubbing your arm gently to comfort you, noticing your obvious sadness, your lip beginning to quiver.

You simply nodded and searched through the princes pouch, finding the herb you were needing and laid it out. You bit the bottom of your dark green undershirt, ripping a long piece of it and laying that out as well.

You took a deep breath and ran your hands down the poor creatures torso, putting enough weight to hold it down but not enough to hurt it. Legolas gripped the arrow and snapped it as if it was merely a twig. He slid the arrow out of the wound of the leg and tossed it elsewhere and your eyes squeezed shut, wishing to block out the sounds of the suffering fawn. You then opened your eyes and looked up at Legolas before taking the piece of cloth you ripped from yourself and cleaning up the blood that spilled then taking the healing herbs and took Legolas’ bow from the ground since it was the closest thing and used the end to crush the bright green herb. Once it was a paste you spread it across the wound of the fawn and Legolas held the leg for you so you can tend to the other side as well.

The wound visibly already began healing and you used the same cloth to wrap around the wound to keep it from getting infected. Legolas gave you a smile and helped you clean up the supplies. You stood and whispered a few words in elvish and watched the fawn stand up on its own and run off into the greenery.

Legolas stood next to you and placed a hand on your waist, you jumped in surprise, not ever having been touched in a way by Legolas. “i admire you, little one. you have a good heart.” he looked down at you with his sweet smile. Your eyes lit up in appreciation and it was almost as if you felt yourself blush. Legolas’ eyes visibly widened and his teeth appeared in his smile.

“i may be a fool but i know when someone is flustered.” his thumb ran across your reddened cheek and you huffed. “you’re a good friend Legolas, i don’t think there’s anyone else that would’ve helped me do such a thing. you, my prince, are the one with a good heart.” you said to him and took the hand that occupied your cheek and held it to your mouth, kissing his porcelain fingers.

“well…i smell quite the grapefruit tree near by, shall we?” the tips of his ears heated and he held out his arm for you and you latched onto him, continuing your walk through the forrest with no other than the prince of Mirkwood.

[inbabylontheywept]

The Price

Mithrain’s hands were thick boned and knotted with scars. Unfit tools for anything delicate. Yet they were all he had, so he traded patience for true dexterity. Where humans had skill and elves had grace, dwarves had time.

His fingers carefully tugged the knotted fabrics apart. Blanket by blanket, twist by twist, the bundle came undone until, at last, an infant lay on the war table.

It was human. Unmistakably so – round ears peeked through a halo of blonde hair. It reached forward with tiny hands and wrapped all ten of its fingers around the dwarves' thumb. Both its index fingers still lingered a full inch from meeting. Mithrain looked down at it with true warmth. Then he looked back up at the elves and gave a command.

“Kill it.”

No one at the table moved. The circle of elves looked from the child, to him, then back. To their credit, the tension was more borne of  confusion than moral wavering. They knew they would not do it. They did not know why they were being asked.

Solathan the Elder spoke first.

“No,” he replied.

Mithrain nodded. The refusal was not merely hoped for, it had been expected.

“This is why you will not win.”

The table sat in contemplative silence. Solathan, bravest amongst the elves, most forward, most dwarf, spoke again.

“Because we will not murder infants?”

“Because this infant is the son of Agamedes. He is the last king of the Hinterlands. Humans grow old quickly – in twenty five years he will be a man, and he will start a war just like the one you are fighting today. A war suspiciously similar to the one you fought twenty-five years ago.”

The words were calm, but he watched the generals hands closely. Even a twitch towards a belt knife would be enough to betray temptation. Yet, each hand remained perfectly still.

There was a short pulse of shame in him. Envy. When he’d had this conversation with his own war council all those centuries ago, there had been several who’d considered it. Who had considered the price of such self-degredation.

“You will not win. You could. But you see the cost now, and you know it is too high. You want to honor your treaties, your duties, your integrity, but you know the word for that which lacks soul but keeps contracts. You’ve fought them with me, in the deepest, darkest depths of the stone.” 

Solathan had gone white. He knew. He’d been so focused on winning this war that he’d failed to look ahead to the next. And the next. And the next. The cycle stood out to him, infinite and spiraling. He froze at the thought of walking down into that abyss.

“I could raise it. Him. I could try and break the cycle. I-“

“He will learn from another human. Another infant that grows to manhood. He will learn, and he will burn your house and throne. Do you think I am so wise, as to see the future without having lived the past? Whatever cleverness you will suggest, I have tried. I fought ten generations of warriors on the same field before I realized I had three options. To burn my soul, to trap myself in endless war, or to lose. So I lost.”

His voice cracked on the last three words. The infant had begun to fuss over the cold, and he went to work swaddling it again. He’d made his point - now it was time to take the princling home. But as his hands made their slow work, he gave his final warning. 

“You did not know when you started this. And you would not have listened if I had told you. But you know now. And if I meet you in those darkest depths, I will know what sent you there. The only pity you will find from me after that is a second death."

He finished his work in silence, leaving as he came. The quiet lasted long after. 

[ms0milk]

𝟖 | 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 & 𝐭𝐰𝐨.)

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"You do flinch though, when the prince parts your legs with his hips at the lip of the counter to be this much closer and tilts your face up with that same oddly soft hold from before, a thumb and forefinger balancing your chin where he wants you."

cw (I) bkg mom mode activate, reader attempts murder at a dinner party, super brief paranoia sequence. (II) accidentally suggestive wound-tending, a completely reasonable misunderstanding + bkg is momentarily horrified by what you think of him. 5.7k.

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It's akin to murder in Aldera, killing an ant or fly or caterpillar– to not move worms off the path after a rainstorm. Your home is love.

The little Todoroki Prince is delicate like his mother and his kingdom, like his older brother and sister seated beside him, pale and silent, but as he sits down to eat he crushes a spider making home between the candles and sweeps its body off the table without thought.

It’s a nagging dread across your cheeks, it’s the prickle of a thousand invisible whiskers towards the danger in the corners of this bustling room of feast. Something is wrong with Takoba. The Todorokis are quiet and unpleasant, sure, but something else– someone– shouldn’t be here.

“Y/n?”

Your head tilts to Kirishima sitting at the table in front of you when his low voice cuts through the clamor.

“Are you okay?”

“Mm.”

He smiles as if to say just checking, and pours himself back into his meal and a conversation between friends.

Is Takoba truly so wealthy that they can hire pleasant crowds on demand? Where did all these happy feasters come from? Where do the wicked crows from the throne room roost? The sparkling white hall where you’re stationed this evening bathes in dusk and endless candlelight, music, fine dancing, fine food and kind company. It is the warmest room in all the kingdom for one night only.

All day long you tried tracking down the simmering blond princling currently sitting with his back to your post, but he hid, like a whelp, until dinnertime.

“Where is Prince Bakugou’s chamber?” You attempted to interrogate the maid sent to deliver your change of clothes and show to your room last night, but she just shook her empty head.

A soldier was posted to your door at dawn and you scared him out of his polished boots in your own Takoban uniform well before the sun even crested the castle walls. As delicate as the kingdom and all its trinkets could be, the cotton padded tunic did an admirable job of keeping out seachill. Your halberd bled a red gash down the back of your white and blue uniform and you felt altogether ready for war.

“The feast has been planned for weeks– you must attend!”

“I mustn’t do a single thing.”

“I’ve been ordered to take down your preferences. The prince himself–”

“My prince?” You cocked your head to the nagging butler who had finally caught up to you outside of the soldier’s quarters. Aizawa and all his exhaustion had been no help in your search.

“No, M’lady the Tako–”

“– I am not your Lady.”

“Miss please,” he’d begged. He’d begged and begged until he grew too weary of your wandering.

The prince’s less than modest attitude soured your sleep, even after the shock of opening your chamber door to a room fit for a lord. Green ivy rugs, climbing their little fingers in a pattern across the floor to the sea-facing window beside your bed. Four wooden posts and white linen curtains. It would take two of you to touch the ceiling and ten more to reach from one wall to the next and by all means you should have slept like the dead.

But Bakugou’s smug canine grin burned into your eyelids like a flare. Marching alone down a hallway, you bared your teeth to the thought.

“I’m sorry Ma’am, I haven’t seen him.”

“I’m not important enough to know such things.”

“Who?”

“Weren’t the Alderans injured? Maybe the hospital?”

Through every level of the seashell castle, through every kitchen and office and workshop and training ground, you searched for the prince’s chambers. You marveled all the way through the grand entryway and combed empty jeweled halls and peeping windows. You wished a good morning to Lady Mina and Sero on their way to breakfast and stormed anxiously through the outdoor walkways built into castleside, trying your hardest not to peer over their railings into the sea.

Ahead of you now Prince Bakugou looks too polished and still all too natural at the head of the table while you stand guard behind him, close enough to pluck a golden hair off his head.

The Alderan guests and Takoban royalty perch on a platform at the front of the room and an expanse of feasting festivities stretch out before them. Thankfully this crowd is less oppressive, it is less hateful and more excited to eat the fine food and sing merry songs than to bother much at all with you. Even a place as callous as Takoba enjoys hot meals with friends.

Kirishima gives piggyback rides to children brave enough to approach and Mina watches on, picking petals off the set flowers and tossing them gleefully to the rowdy bunch. The crowd, all seated at their own long tables, giggles and cheers and soon the redhead is lost under a pile of little girls in their poofy ball gowns.

Whiskers twitch again and your gaze shoots across the room to a man milling with drink trays and the blindspot of a candle behind him where the wall stills in darkness. You’re brought back to the light when a voice hisses,

“Denki! Quit it–”

Sero admonishes his friend as Kaminari gorges on roast vegetables and sliced meats that have wafted their warm autumn sweetness through the seashell castle all day long. The noisy eater is seated directly beside the fairy blue prince and his bellsong siblings who’ve hardly spoken a word all evening. The three of them dazzle even without their mother present, they wear it like the color blue was made for them and you know that behind her sick, the Takoban Queen must be the most beautiful woman in the kingdom.

Mina squeals at something the fair princess has said and Sero, along with the youngest Todoroki clap and smile when Kaminari starts to hiccup from all his inhaling of food. More people who already know each other and more reason for you to feel a bit out of place.

When Prince Todoroki tilts his delicate face far enough towards you, you can almost catch a glimpse of the famous red framing his features. What does he sound like, you wonder? Out of all of them Bakugou is the only one whose face you can’t see, broad shoulders pressed flat back against his chair as he lounges.

“Quit starin’ Eyes, you’ll ruin my appetite.”

“Yes, sir.”

The fork squeaks as his fist tightens around it. Where has he been hiding?

"..Little Alderan…"

Sweat prickles your temples when a ghost calls to you suddenly, traveling from shadow to shadow in the candlelit room, swimming through them strategically to be closer. Shadows cast by dancing men, or thrown behind full mugs of ale across the long feasting tables. The steaming scars of the flame mage still burn ripe across your mouth from where he grabbed you in the forest, like a muzzle. You stand with square shoulders and hands behind your back and wish Shinsou or Uraraka were here to share your paranoia but they’re stationed outside with their men where fire demons don’t dance across the walls.

The prince doesn’t seem bothered by the song or dance or laughter; he only wipes his mouth and looks out over the crowd. He peers behind his tall chair towards you every so often, never truly looking, and it rubs something in you wrong the way he can’t even trust you through one meal.

You’re far enough away from the joyful crowds that they can’t swallow you whole. Harps and horns do not make your heart race and you only need worry about the six royals in front of you and the gaggle of incompetent Takoban guards standing similarly around them. Prince Bakugou’s head bobs as he eats. Tens of candles burn so hot across his table that their melted wax pools around his plates and bowls and he reminds you of his father the way food will just steal his attention away. How is this the same cruel man from last night? It is hard not to remember his family while you watch him.

A clatter of silver across the floor startles the table’s attention from friends to the feasters and you jerk your dagger in its scabbard, but a child has just tripped on his too-big shoes and into the side of a serving tray.

It is too eerie for words, this happy bustling hall, and too threatening to explain. Gods, it’s hot in here. Blue lords and blue ladies create the sea beneath you and fires, even the smallest candles, threaten to set their world alight. Sometimes when you blink, the cream calm world goes horribly blue.

“Cool it.”

A creaking wooden chair pulls your focus and in his seat your prince shifts while Mina makes a show of declining a great many offers to dance from beautiful suitors. He watches on like always, peering into the depths of the room and through the idle chatter. Without his red cape Bakugou appears broader, less contained, tucks his chin into the crease of his shoulder and submits to boredom. He rasps across the high lilt of a fiddle, “Calm down.”

The prince has tilted his ale warmed cheeks far enough again for you to see an expression clearly, empty but present, and you make a point to only glance. To just watch a little. To linger on a few pieces of golden hair that stick to his face with sweat. Oh how angry it makes you, how beautiful he is and how easy it would be for him to get away with anything. What a wonderful distraction from the imperceptible threat you can’t quite shake.

He shuffles his tongue across his teeth and tilts a little further– far enough that you realize he’s peering directly at you from the corner of his eye. An accusatory jewel. The candles in front of him flicker suddenly a hot, hot purple.

“You hear me?”

You do not.

Those candles set on the table jump for a moment, quivering in the windless Hall all while two figures slip across the edges of the room: one a man cloaked and the other his shadow. Your hands can hardly stay still within each other while the tiny flames all around your company flicker white then red, then purple again– they are fighting to be blue.

Kirishima is the first to see you advance. He is the second to try and stop you.

You know that, had you given the champion time he would have taken your hands and asked again, are you alright? But he saves his worry at the sight of your hand on your dagger. Between the redhead and the prince you approach their table and bend calmly at the hip, quietly blowing out the candles that surround their food and faces.

Prince Bakugou barely has time to register your presence or come up with some horrible quip before you’re at his side and drawing your weapon.

“Do not–”

“– Y/n!”

For all their showy training these two are not faster than you. Kirishima lurches for your dagger from his seat in shock, so you drop it to keep all his fingers attached and plant a steadying foot behind you.

Joy dies when your halberd launches across the room.

Through the familiar stretch of your bicep, relief pours when you fetch it from your back, through the strain and still of aiming well trained eyes and finally through the flex of your ribs when your back arches and whips itself forward to create the deadly momentum you need. Release. Thumb, index, middle and ring, the bloodred weapon sails from your fingers. A star begging to explode.

You unsettle something in him, Prince Bakugou, and as a rule he does not like to watch you. But his mother’s favoritism starts making sense tonight, that crazy fucking woman.

Thunk, is the hollow sound of pierced wood followed by a flat squeak of musicians trailing off midsong and the immediate hush of dancers and feasters. You must look as smug as you feel because your aim is, as always, perfect. The tip of your halberd spears a cloak to the wall, trapping but still sparing the man wearing it and necks crane to the front of the room. Your royal table stares. One head behind the next, mouths open, eyes bulging, those might be tears in Kaminari’s eyes– and even in a kingdom as incompetent as this one, you suppose only one thing can happen next.

Almost immediately the Takoban guards seize you. The room erupts.

“–Y/n!”

“Stop!”

“Don’t– wait, wait!”

Your body is snatched up by armored men and thrown flat onto the wooden table with all of its webs and candlewax. “Don’t dawdle!” You shout into the hard surface you’re pressed against, “He’ll get away!”

But you are the spider now and no one is listening. 

To their credit, the Todoroki siblings gather themselves quickly enough to stand. One of them, the little prince, waves an arm and shouts to his men– maybe ordering them to release you, maybe ordering to kill. It’s so, so loud now.

The Alderan company and their thunder can’t help you, the champion is held back by Sero and Mina whose eyes dart to every face in the room to try and find reason in your attack. Kaminari clutches the arm of the guard who takes a bit too much pleasure pressing your face hard against wood grain with a hand on the back of your head.

It’s a different sort of chaos from the prince’s smoking of the throne room. No one swarms, in fact no feasters yet have the courage to walk past the spot where your weapon has sunk deep into the elven doors, and flee into the safety of the hallway. A little talisman to ward off the flies. A talisman no longer containing the shadowed man, only his cloak and a shred of shirt cloth.

“He’s–!” You grunt, struggling against heavy hands holding your body down and moreso than that, to be heard. He’s escaping! You want to scream but fingers have threaded their way through the hair at the base of your head and gods it hurts when you’re yanked back up by a braid. Momentarily lightheaded by the rise, you consider all the ways to get this guard on his back without having to cut his hands from your hair.

“Oi,” a firesoft voice breathes, soot ash and matches, “let her go.”

It’s quick, faster than that– in fact, it takes the same amount of time for Prince Bakugou to separate you from the soldier as it did for him to give the order. Before you’re even pulled back up to standing, a heavy hand wraps around your bicep and he plants his other over the soldier’s headpiece to let loose a few tempered sparks. As you're yanked into his chest the guard goes flying.

Others replace the first, soldiers alerted to danger by the haunting sound of an explosion rush from the floor where they watch over stunned guests, and to the platform where their own Takoban Royals are once again under threat from Aldera. It’s never ending. Even as you plan to attack them it isn’t lost on you, what a headache you have been to these royal guards.

It’s easier to focus on one thing.

You have to plan your defense and you certainly have to find an escape route, but you can’t see over the swell of his shoulders. His warmth, his caramel, it’s distracting, it’s all too distracting– it’s all moving in slow motion. Broad but not all that tall, soft, Bakugou’s body surrounds you momentarily as he steadies you both from the recoil of his shot.

“Enough!” A low voice like bells is heard suddenly so clearly that the rest of the voices in the Hall become mud. They all become racket in comparison to, “Leave them.” 

They all become cut glass played against, “We’re fine.”

Around the room soldiers freeze mid stride in shock presumably and folded inside of each other, you and Bakugou must look exactly like them because the Todoroki siblings are standing as calm and bored as napping babies. The eldest even reaches into his quilted jacket breast to check the time on a pocket watch.

“Go on then, leave them alone,” the princess reiterates, little flecks of red warming white hair. Her crystal glasses glint so bright in the candlelight one could hardly see her eyes but her stance is strong and her blue dress whips about the floor from the sudden quiet of the room. The silence of the forgotten partygoers is comical, a collection of a hundred wide eyes blinking from one action to the next like bats in a cave.

Bakugou seems to realize how closely he’s holding you and pushes you away with his hand still around your bicep.

“She needs to be punished!” Your blown-away guard insists, “She fired into a royal crowd!” He’s collecting himself as best he can from where the prince shot him backwards, disgruntled, armor crooked, and generally singed. He rushes you in the grip of your prince, and before you can brace yourself, before the youngest Todoroki can cooly object or your champion can finally hit someone, Bakugou snarls and jerks you forward.

“You think I can’t punish my own fucking staff?”

You teeter on the lip of the platform step and the prince practically throws you to the floor from how close behind he’s pulling you, caramel vicegrip still firm on your arm. Bakugou tears into the thick hush of the Hall, heavy footsteps, nagging growls, indignant muttering. You just try to make sure you don’t roll an ankle from how quickly you’re expected to move, down off the platform and into the petrified crowd.

Kirishima cups his hands around his mouth and tries to call after you, which gets him exactly zero response. In fact the prince grips your arm bruisingly harder at the request as he marches you both through the parting sea of partygoers. They stumble over each other to both watch and hide from you in their fancy clothes.

“Highness–” you grunt, but you’re cut off immediately with another tug. Your cheeks sting from being dragged across the table. He doesn’t seem to be marching you to the entryway, but past it, to a door at the back of the room. “See?” You grumble and reach out for your halberd with your free had as the pair of you pass it, “My aim–”

“Do not!” Bakugou spins around and seethes. He swats your hand and jerks you forward yet again to leave the red weapon exactly where you’ve sunken it, “Not helping ya little fuck.”

If last night was a short fuse, what you’ve cut for yourself tonight is a lit explosive. Oh how the prince rumbles. He holds you somewhere between ferocity and urgency and you hate to remember– you curse yourself for your timing– just how deeply you embarrass him. How many different ways you could have detained the suspicious figure– even if he was a mage, the mage, even if fires did beg to turn blue.

Past the long wooden tables, past frightened guests and musicians tuning on the orders of their exhausted princess, Bakugou tows you to the back of the room. He kicks a modest door in and blinding candlelight pours wet warm over your shadows. Veins throttle the back of his hand. The hand that grips your arm so tightly– his hand that relaxes and slips as he storms inside behind you, to cup your elbow.

The silver kitchens are alive. Handmaids and bakers and strongmen heft vats and soups and bread every which way as the door to the Hall closes behind you, and you have to duck or dodge every few steps to keep out of their bustling paths.

“Clear out! I need the flouring tables,” your prince barks into the kitchen carnage and in his new oddly gentle hold you’re only reminded of his presence because of that voice. The one that splinters wood and drops plum pits to your gut no matter how many times you hear it or how many times it’s barking directly at you.

Punishment. Dragged from your post, from your entire company, to be punished by him with the full roster of kitchen staff here to watch. Shame boils every stream of blood in your body so violently you have to cup your chest to believe the rate your heart is beating.

The man crude enough– you suppose, the only man who even ranks highly enough– to treat you like a toy. After growing up beside one another. Chewing you up, spitting you out, nothing but ridicule for an entire week punctuated by last night’s wretched performance of submission.

The prince must feel your heartbeat in his fingertips because he begins marching faster the second it picks up from your embarrassment, “Hurry up.”

While Bakugou guides you deeper into the organized chaos, maids and bakers and butlers shift slowly under his orders like watching ants change course in a rainstorm. Great big balls of dough are heft from the counter islands in the center of the room, silverware clatters, fires blaze around you from cold new stoves starting, and most impressive of all, every worker buzzing through the bedlam keeps up their pace without faltering.

Muscle plump bakers trot past and behind you every which way, narrating their movements with cupped hands to teammates.

“Behind!”

“This isn’t sugar.”

The prince’s odd orders add to their symphony, “Cold water and boning tweezers– need ‘em yesterday!”

“Someone light this for me?”

“Hey will you– and this—”

“Here Kats, tweezers.” A butler in a highcollar frock pulls the metal from her pocket and drops them cold into your prince’s hand on her way out the door with an ale tray.

Kats? You dare a glance as the butler makes her way back into the Hall. Just one, a look not a stare, up the curve of your collarbone to his clenched jaw and even just a little higher than that. The prince’s brandfire pupils glow behind lids half shut with exasperation. Hooded, heavy eyes watch yours. He’s looking.

He’s looking at you and your mouth has gone dry.

You don’t know how to prepare yourself because you aren’t sure what to expect, least of all Bakugou lifting you up under the arms like you aren’t fully suited and setting your hips on the closest countertop. Partially stunned and partially professional, you make sure to sit up straight suddenly at his eye level, legs dangling, to receive your punishment. The bluefire mage is as far as he’s ever been from your mind.

“Been telling you to calm down all night,” he rasps– to himself if volume is indicative of anything. Even his inflection goes menacingly quiet now that kitchen chaos can’t slip between the pair of you. He keeps the tumult behind him and boxes you between his shoulders, grumbling before closing in, “My fault for thinking you had a brain in that thick skull.”

You have to keep yourself from clutching his wrist when the prince abruptly cups your jaw and begins rocking your face slowly side to side, and you hope beyond all hope that whatever he’s going to do to you ends quickly enough for you to return to your post unbruised; he looks like a man that likes to leave marks.

If he takes this much pleasure in your pain, why does he still wear your earrings? Your golden suns hang in mismatched holes from his many missing piercings but they still scream with Aldera pride. He knows that they’re yours. He knows this as he thumbs your stinging cheeks, as he turns and barks requests into a half-listening crowd, and as you try your best not to pull away from him. He refuses help, companionship, and protection– it must only be to torture you.

“Give me your hand.”

The way he speaks is not dissimilar from last night. Mean. When Bakugou finishes warming your face like putty in his fingers, he arms himself with his tweezers and waits for you to execute his orders. “Hand,” he repeats and you don’t hesitate this time to give him what he wants.

You do flinch though, when the prince parts your legs with his hips at the lip of the counter to be this much closer and tilts your face up to meet his with that same oddly soft hold from before, a thumb and forefinger balancing your chin where he wants you. Like a cat who kneads suddenly with its claws, your skin prickles at every agonizingly delicate touch of the prince’s fingers as you wait for sparks.

He presses his face so close to yours that for a second you think he might kiss you. Force himself onto you. Closer than two swordsmen crashing at their hilts, your faces mirror each other in the prince’s concentration. Whiskers sear. This is the only kind of punishment you won’t tolerate. You can’t– you know that you’ll strike him. Wine and honey roll from his tongue in puffs of sweet air as he leans in further– as you struggle with the sudden proximity and try not to let your thighs cradle his.

Bakugou doesn’t seem to care about your wide eyes this time, doesn’t really seem to be paying them all that much mind in his focus. What is it? What is he focusing on? A week without looking at you and now the bridge of your nose is the most interesting thing in the world?

“You’re a fucking headache.”

“Sir, I–”

“Told you not to call me that.” He plucks what feels like a hair from your cheek and your eyes flood immediately and involuntarily with sensitivity, “Well, Eyes? Or– hah, should I call you captain?” One sharp exhale like a laugh and his head cocks a bit to the side, “Since you’re obviously so qualified to be my fucking keeper.”

Prince Bakugou crowds you between bread proofing bakers, a confinement that should make your skin itch, and stands tall in the chaos of the bustling kitchen, a room that would otherwise fill you with dread. He pinches your cheeks again with his tweezers and drops something from them into the hand that you’ve given him, and somehow even in the overheating swell you don’t bubble over with panic. Even as you picture all the ways to disarm him, he is the one still thing you focus on to stay calm.

“Fuck are you so tense for? I don’t bite.”

“I’ve seen you bite many times,” you breathe into his shoulder, monotone and confusion.

What is he waiting for? When is he going to strike you? Burn you? Take you? The anticipation and confusion is worse than whatever punishment he could dream up. The violence always in his eyes and the way you can’t even find a hint of threat right now in his concentration, chills you. His borrowed white formalwear radiates cold from all its twinkling silver baubles but the warmth of his body obliterates the chill. Chest against chest, it shocks your overstimulated nerves and sends you ever closer to the sensation of being trapped in your skin.

He continues his gentle pinching as you continue gauging how much stronger than you he might be. Lifting you like nothing, throwing men through the air, even if you tried to fight back you might not be able to stop him.

A bowl of ice water appears beside you on the counter and the woman who delivered it tosses a rag your way, casually, as if Bakugou’s already dragged a thousand disobedient guards into the kitchen to disrupt her soup stirring. It only reminds you though, that no one here seems to be all that interested in Bakugou’s royal status and subsequently even less interested in coming to your aid if he decides your body is the only penance he’ll accept.

He waves his thanks to the kitchen and pulls away from you for a moment, never making eye contact but still taking something in. A part of you. Like admiring a painting, or more likely– with those furrowed brows– wincing at a carriage wreckage. He wets the rag and rings it out in a fist without looking away.

Prince Bakugou Katsuki looks so much like his mother it’s going to break your heart.

You flinch when he brings the wet cloth to your lips and a lump swells in your throat when it makes him smirk. How could someone this cruel come from the woman who raises the sun? His ashen hair, shoulders thick from training his magic, soft leather hands and beautiful eyes– the sun did create him. And she asked you to keep him safe.

The prince drops the rag in its bowl and takes your jaw up in his hold again, presses his hips back to yours to be closer, still just as eerily gentle. You must be biting your tongue hard to taste all this blood.

Even as a sparkworn palm steadies itself on your thigh instead of the countertop beside you, all you can think of is your queen’s request– your orders. You won’t resist him. You fired into the crowd in a foreign castle. Your prince spared you a public humiliation and you won’t deny him your punishment.

“Highness,” you can barely hold dignity in your voice as you speak into his tunic from how closely he keeps you, and something about the pitiful sound makes him pause his little strokes at your cheeks. You muster the courage to continue, “Please just– just be quick.”

“What, so you can go back out there and assault another waiter?” He growls back, distant with focus, “All that got you this time was a face full of splinters.”

Before you can process his words the prince claps your cheek to agitate the last few flecks of wood still embedded there under the skin.

“Leave it to a Takoban carpenter to serve their guests on fucking driftwood.”

What?

Your angry prince, shoulders hunched, jaw set, frowning– always frowning– is plucking your…splinters? What splinters? Cradling your face instead of attending his own feast? Instead of punishing you? Instead of screaming, striking, exploding– instead of pulling your tunic apart by the buttons and eating you.

“What are you doing?” You breathe again, unsure of if you’ve even said the words out loud.

“You got the short term memory of a goldfish.”

Prince Bakugou drops the tweezers in the water dish after dusting clean his now-wood-free canvas and tilts your face up a bit higher to match his gaze. Your hips connect. Cold blooms at your mouth where the prince presses the icy wet rag again and this time you realize he’s wiping blood from your nose.

Does he not remember marching you through the Hall five minutes ago? Last night’s raised hackles and voices flash so vividly in your mind that you still feel his arrogant breath down the back of your neck. The furious canines that kept you up all night. Who is this?

“Titania almighty you’re jumpy, what happened to my Alderan Captain huh?” But his eyes stop half way through their rolling before he finishes speaking again. His hand freezes where it steadies your jaw, fingers and thumbs cupping you there and a warm pinky stilled at your throat with his words, “Like you think I’m–” knotted brows fall as he realizes, “– that I–”

Slowly, your prince’s face lowers to the shadow your body casts in candlelight and for the third time in your life, you watch each other. Wide red eyes, too near to see clearly, burn into your own and you can’t quite decipher all that they’re saying. His fingers twitch like he’s only just realized who it is he’s touching and how he’s touching her and for a moment you can feel his thighs tense inside of yours. Like he’s going to run away. Blond hair sticky with kitchen sweat brushes your temples from how close you’re kept. 

“Did you think–”

“Let go of me.”

At the same time Bakugou realizes your fear, violence finally returns to you. How long has it been?

Heat soars from your heart to every tip of your body in humiliation. From the top of your head to the points of your fingers, you reel forward off the counter to disrupt his hold and he similarly jerks away from you, chest and hips parting, fists clenching.

Heads turn at the sudden disruption. The rhythm of these kitchens never stops, but maneuvering around Alderans has become tonight’s full time precaution and at the very least you could be considered entertainment.

You and your prince stand facing each other. You, chillingly still and bleeding so slightly, and Bakugou at a safe distance.

Growling, taunting, threats and blows, spitting, sneering– why now of all times to be kind? Your mouth forms the question. Hours of patience, a lifetime of service, admiration, devil’s advocation, self sacrifice, pride. But your voice can’t quite push it out.

Is it fun? Toying with me?

Prince Bakugou stares across the floured floor at you, cheeks and neck so flushed it makes his white tunic glow. Your posture curves inward like a stalking cat as you stare back.

For the first time in his life, Bakugou can’t find words. You won’t know what he’s trying to say for a long time and for now it’s a coincidence and a blessing that you’re too grieved to speak.

When you push silently past him back into the Hall hardly a soul notices you. Music swells and children dance. Blood drips from your nose as you march, your cheeks sting, and slowly blue lords and blue ladies at the edge of their tables catch chilling sight of you. You consider all the ways you should apologize to the waiter you speared in your delirium.

Slowly, forks are lowered and necks crane. Slowly mother’s pull their daughters closer, drunkards stop singing, eyes fall on your stride. The music tapers out as you approach the front entrance.

A genuine laugh is so close to escaping you when the entire room winces in unison– you plant your heel to the polished white wall and rip your halberd from where it’s still wedged, pretty and red, in the elven door and with a flourish the polearm is back in its holster between your shoulders. Your company is gone; no one sits at the royal table. Bakugou doesn’t follow from the kitchens.

As you slip from the Hall and back into the seashell castle, you’re sure you’ll be punished for this too, whatever the fuck that means.

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[gimmemore14]

Ooh can I hear about royalty!!!! Dark brudick 👀👀👀👀

Yes!!! So glad you asked hahaha

In this royalverse Bruce takes in Dick when his court performer parents die tragically in front of him, at first it’s not for nefarious reasons but a feeling of kinship. This is seen as odd because Bruce has not married yet and does not have any suitable heirs either, so everyone just assumes he took in the pretty boy to raise as his bride.

King Bruce wants to fight the rumors despite growing more possessive of dick, so he decides to take in another orphan boy to quell the rumors. I played around with the ages so dick and Jason are only like a year or two apart but, of course this plan backfires and Bruce grows jealous of Jay because of his unhealthy codependency with Dick.

He sends Jason off to become a knight at age 14ish, hoping he’d lose interest in dick or bring honor to the Wayne crest in another way, but Jay keeps writing to dick even ten years later (but they’re intercepted) so Bruce keeps sending him out to fight…

Bruce ends up slowly coercing Dick into an unofficial relationship but does more messed up things that finally force dick to realize that things aren’t right and Jason to stand up against his king

Anyways, have a snippet!

Dick tries to relax in the royal bathing chamber. It should be easy with his head pillowed on his propped up arms, his body cradled by the smooth tile and hot water funneled in from the natural hot spring, but he feels like a compressed spring as he mulls over the news from the royal Knights. Jason is to be sent out again to lead another tour, he didn’t even get to come home for a day in between this time…

The omega jumps as big hands land on his shoulders, but instinctually, he starts to relax as the familiar scent of Bruce fills his nose. “You startled me, my lord.”

The king hmms thoughtfully as he nuzzles the younger man, pulling him back to settle on his lap. “A king never apologizes, but perhaps I will, just this once.”

As Bruce lavishes kisses on his neck, Dick chuckles as he should at the familiar running joke between them. It occurs to him suddenly that it may not actually be a jest to the king, never once has he actually apologized.

Soon the alpha grows tired of the lack of response and gently grips Dick’s chin to turn it towards him. “What are you thinking of, my little Robin, that has your head amongst the clouds?”

He wants to ask about Jason, about why he’s been sent to fight again, but for some reason, nearly all of their disagreements begin and end with Jay. Dick won’t bring him up when they are having such a nice bath. It’ll have to be an after dinner subject, he still will require an answer.

“I was thinking about your child. How long will it be until I get to hold the baby princling?” He asks instead, turning around in the water to straddle the King. He rests his forehead against Bruce’s, enjoying the intimacy they rarely get nowadays.

Bruce sighs, as if this is another topic he’d rather not discuss. “Within the next couple weeks, but we cannot be certain the babe will be a boy…” His fingers caress up Dick’s chest to begin circling the omega’s unmarked mating gland. “We can hope however. Then once the babe is weaned and my line of succession is unquestionable, Queen Talia will move to her own villa and I can finally make you irrevocably mine.”

“No one would question you, my lord, as king, but would they accept me as one of your consorts?”

“As the royal consort, of course. This is common practice with political marriages, once the duty is fulfilled they live amicably but separately.” Bruce soothes, nuzzling their noses together. “Be patient and remember that I know what’s best for you, for us. You trust me, do you not?”

The omega meets Bruce’s eyes, still unnerved by how sharp they can be despite his softened body language. “With all my heart, my lord.”

Bruce lets out the breath he’d been holding with a chuckle, “How many times will I have to remind you, when we are alone you still may call me Bruce.”

Another one of their games. Dick smiles, running his hands up and into the king’s hair before whispering, “At least once more, my lord.”

The king groans and seeks out the omega’s mouth with his own. Dick loses himself in the gentle but demanding kiss Bruce provides. It goes no farther today as King Wayne’s presence is required soon at important meetings. Once dressed, he says goodbye with a searing, possessive kiss, leaving Dick wound up but alone again in the bath.

He really does trust Bruce with everything, he should have just asked about Jason. He will though, tonight. Jay is still his son, after all, he’s likely just as worried about him as Dick is. However, in the solitude of the royal baths, he can’t help but remember the first time Bruce shipped Jason off…

“One day, you and me are going to ride off into the sunset.” Jay sighs, twirling a piece of straw between his teeth in a way the tutors despise.

Dick just giggles and falls back into the lush grass beside him, resting his head on the young alpha’s bicep like it’s a pillow. “And where would we go?”

“Away,” Jason answers quickly. “Anywhere as long as it’s far from here… from him.”

Dick’s face falls into a frown. “The King has treated us far better than we could have asked. He’s gotten us the best tutors, clothing so fine I couldn’t have imagined it, and he’s kind-“

“To you.” Jay interrupts, propping himself up to peer down at Dick. “He’s almost too kind.”

“Is he not kind to you as well?”

Jason huffs out a breath that billows through his overgrown locks. “Sure, in a distant, cold sort of way. Look Dickie, I know you’ve been here a lot longer than me but the way he acts around you is not fatherly.”

The omega just laughs, “Of course not, he promised he’d never replace my dad, that’s why he’s just my guardian instead!”

“It’s not the way a guardian is supposed to be acting around you either, alright?” Jason explains, getting even more frustrated that Dick isn’t taking him seriously. He rolls them over so he’s half way on top of the older boy now, ready to talk some sense into him.

“And what way is that?” The omega asks after his giggles subside.

“Almost romantically… almost like, like I do.”

That finally shuts Dick up. He realizes suddenly just how close the alpha’s face has gotten to him, lips a mere inch from his.

“Jay- you don’t mean-“ Dick starts but Jason cuts him off with a chaste kiss. It’s soft and sweet, everything the omega didn’t know he wanted but now knows he needs. The kiss only lasts mere seconds but when they break away, both are breathing hard. “That-“

“Boys.” A harsh voice cracks across the courtyard.

They spring apart and rush to their feet as King Bruce storms up to them. His face is red, a vein faintly bulging on his forehead, it’s a terrifying sight. As soon as he sees the fear on Dickie’s face, however, he schools his expression and his tone. “Dick, you’re far past tardy for your tea time etiquette lesson. It is unbecoming of an omega to be disrespectful of another’s time. Run along, Jason and I have much to discuss.”

By the time Dick was through with his lesson, Jason’s room was all packed up and he was sent off to train with the same knights Bruce did without even a letter of explanation.

“He didn’t even say goodbye,” Dick sobbed into Bruce’s finery.

The king held Dick as he cried, hushing him softly but staying stoic in the way he’s known for. “We agreed it would have been harder for you, we were only thinking of your gentle nature, chum. It’s time for Jason to be out from under my wing, to become his own alpha. He will return once he’s ready, do not worry. You trust me, do you not?”

Through his tears, Dick managed to nod, “With all my heart.”

[onskepa]

Muewehehehe! 😈

Hello Halo Hello! Once again I am Back! MUHAHAHAHA!

And I come back with another triplets request! Cause gosh darn it you do them so well. But anyways back to the request, that is if it's okay with you of course!

So hear me out years have past and the young triplets are now the beautiful age of 15! The kids along with the family are going to the plains to meet up with other Clans for a celebratory hunt. The omaticaya, Metkayina and Tipani gather together the young hunters ready to prove themselves and so forth.

But this isn't just about that that, this is about Lu'law gaining the attention of a very determined princling of the Tipani. Lu'law who's known for being pretty inventive and always crafting things or being intrigued by the old ways of human technology to help the humans of the omaticaya or just the Clan in general. But Lu'law isn't just known for her inventions they are also known for their beautiful gymnastic skills, practically making her look as though they dance on air.

The tipani princling is enraptured by her and is determined to court her for the following days, the thing is... daddy and uncle Loki ain't having it. Mischief ensues.

(I like to think the triplets call their uncle Lo'ak, loki from they're mama's stories cause he's mischievous.)

(Also Lu'law's siblings and mama help her to get with the adorkable boy they think is cute.)

Ooooooooooooooooooooohhh~!! I like this one! Sit back, relax, and Enjoy! Syawn series

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Syawn ch 5: skxom Hunt pt1

"Bro maybe we should head back, we got enough for the travel. Any more and we wont have enough space to carry the meat".

15 year old lu'Tstunwi says to his triplet brother, 15 year old lu'Lafyon.

Lu'Lafyon nods in agreement. They hunted enough. "Yeah, lets go. Lu'Law lets go!" the second brother calls out to his sister.

Where ever she is at.

Lu'Tstunwi and Lu'Lafyon roll their eyes in unison.

"She left didnt see? To grand uncle norm?" Lu'Lafyon asks in a bit of annoyance.

"No I didnt! Im right here" the voice of their sister was heard behind them. Turning around they see their sister landing down from a high branch.

Together, they head back home with their kill. Chatting happily about what they hope to see.

In the Omatikaya grounds, jake sully was packing the needed equipment for their long journey ahead. He gets up, groaning a bit tired.

Close to him, neteyam sees his father and slightly grins, "is time finally getting to you dad?". Jake rolls his eyes but cracks his back joints with a satisfying pop sound. "I am still in my prime son. But even I must admit, it is slowly getting to me" Jake replies in slight defeat.

Neteyam chuckled. He looks up at the position of the sun, knowing soon his children will come back soon with their kill. And finish what is left to pack.

His children. Neteyam's precious triplets.

After so many years, the reality of the three has never faded from his mind. Neteyam loves his triplets equally and adores how each are different yet the same.

The most he enjoys is the triplets being very close to their grandfather. Since jake understands the triplets on a a deeper level. Seeing them thrive and bond with others have made him and syawn very happy. And speaking of syawn, where is she?

THUMP!

"OW!!"

There she is.

Everyone was preparing for the long travel for the Skxom Hunt. A hunt that only happens once every 3 years. Clans from all over gather at a specific spot to hunt. Where life thrives and producing never ending field of nourishment and quality of ripe fruits and healthy animals.

Usually there would be an agreed spot of where to hunt. But for the last 40 years, the Skxom hunt has taken place in the once homeland of the fallen Sarentu clan. Where all na'vi go as to pay respect for their fallen brothers and sisters.

For the future generations to learn and never forget the once thriving clan. Retelling of Sarentu's stories, most notable figures. How their culture was like and traditions.

What has fallen, now rises a new life. The Sarentu's territory covered high mountains, deep massive lakes, endless fields of grass lands and patches of forest. Perfect for every na'vi in different environments.

Perfect for many things to be born anew. New things would bloom.

"ok now remember, you only have about 340 hours so make every second count, ya got it?" Norman Spellman was telling to lu'law.

"Dont worry uncle norm. Every second is going to be....how did you say it? A gem? Whatever. Know your trusty camera is in safe hands of sully the vlogger!!" Lu'law said with such confidence while holding a peace sign.

“That is the concerning part” Max says casually as he passes by with his wheelchair. “It happened one time. Besides, it was uncle loki that did it. Why put the blame on little ol’me?” Lu’law asks while making a pouty face. 

“Because you gave it to him”. 

“Oh yeah…”

Night came, and the whole clan gather once more in their union dinner, to be close to their loved ones before the long journey ahead. 

Kiri and spider chat as much as they could with their family as they will be staying behind to watch over the clan. “And make sure the hunters are going through the right paths I laid out. The west side river is at its peak so have everyone be careful since the waters are rough this time of year, also-”

“Yes, yes, yes dad. Don't worry, we got it, "Kiri says as she reassures her father. 

Jake cant help but sigh. This happens every time Jake has to leave the clan for days. Often over worrying, extra observant and extra worrying. 

“We have done this plenty of times dad. We got this, the people trust spider as much as they trust you. Our people are in the safest hands” kiri says with softness in her voice. Jake shakes his head while his hands also shake slightly. Neytiri rubs her hand against his arms. “Ma’jake, our daughter is right. She and spider have proved themselves worthy to watch over the people. They will be fine. It is not the first time”. 

The soothing voice of his mate, Jake relaxed. “Neytiri is right, I can handle the torch while you are away,” Spider says with a grin. Excited to be in a position where he can help the people in a massive way. 

“Hey, I am the BEST of the BEST. I can heal anyone. Besides, it will be fun to see the whole fest!” tuk says as she sits beside neytiri and kiri. 

Over at the over fire pit, neteyam and syawn enjoy their meal with their beloved children. Syawn explaining to neteyam how her day with tuk and others went and he listens with all his attention on her. Lu’law sees it and often wonders if one day she would have what her parents have. 

“Sis? You are zoning out again” Lu’lafyon says as Lu’Tstunwi snaps his fingers in front of her face. “Oh, sorry, um, what were we talking about again??” lu’law asks while nervously scratching her nose. “Your sensor. You said it works better now” lu’tstunwi replies. Regaining her concentration again, lu’law explains her new item. 

“Oh right! So this will help us see if any danger is near with a super hyper heat sensor and…”

Everyone awoke before the rising sun. They begin their journey both in Ikrans and palis. Jake took the front line to lead the way, as the warriors surrounded their massive group. Everyone was nervous yet excited for the hunt. Neytiri and Jake were chatting while being on alert. Neteyam and syawn enjoy each other’s comfort in silence. And Tuk chatting happily to some of her fellow friends who joined in on the journey.

The triplets decided to ride their ikrans during their journey. Letting the cool wind awaken their minds and feel the crisp morning air. Using the earpiece their grandfather gave them, they have clear communication long distant from the land and sky. Thanks to lu’law’s little tinkering, not only they can hear, but also give visuals from the person’s perspective. Which can cover more ground better. Making things better for her people gives lu’law a sense of pride and feels she is truly contributing to the clan in her own way. 

"You think the Tyrangi clan will be there?" Lu'Lafyon asks during the time of resting. His siblings look at each other before rolling their eyes. "Brother, it be unlike the Tyrangi clan to NOT be there" Lu'Law responds.  “Really brother, are you Omatikaya or Tayrangi?” Lu’Tstunwi teases, making those around him grin.

“Wouldn't be surprised if my nephew would present for that clan” Lo’ak adds in as he makes himself comfortable. The Tyrangi clan, or more specifically, their Olo’eykte, Ikenyi, holds favoritism towards Lu’Lafyon. The oldest triplet became a symbol of unity between the Omatikaya and Tayrangi. For what reason? That is a secret buried between Lu’Lafyon and Ikenyi. 

“Please uncle loki, grandpa would never let that happen” Lu’Tstunwi says. “Damn right I won't” Jake comments as he sits down with neytiri. The triplets scoot closer to their grandparents. “In fact, I am sure Neteyam can agree with me on this one. The three of you, dont take after your uncle lo’ak-” 

“HEY!” 

“You are Omatikaya no matter what. And in the future when you fully participate in the hunt, present Omatikaya and show the others what we can do '' Jake ends his little speech. Neytiri smiles as she leans on to him. 

“You are still hurt from your defeat of the last hunt” 

“Those fuckers cheated”

It was a long trip, but at long last they arrived at the preserved lands of the long gone Sarentu clan. Thanking Eywa for reaching their destination, the Omatikaya members began to settle. But they weren't alone. Their brothers at arms have settled before them, the metkayina clan. 

Lo’ak ran walked to Tsireya as everyone else was welcoming each other. “It has only been a few days and he acts like he hasn't seen auntie Tsireya in years' ' Lu'Tstunwi comments as he rolls his eyes. But Lu’Law inwardly hums at the scene of her uncle and aunt. “Must be nice though, to see someone you look forward to seeing no matter how much time has passed,” she says with a sigh. 

Syawn heard her and pulls her daughter closer, “my sweet girl, are you perhaps thinking of something like that?” she teases. Lu’Law playfully rolls her eyes, “no mother, it is just a silly thought” . Syawn hums while smiling slightly, “no thought is too silly”. 

“My little Lulu’s!!” 20 year old Ti’ong sings out as she embraces the triplets into her arms. Giving them each a kiss on the head, she lets them go. “You three keep getting big! Stop growing and be cute and small forever!” she pouts while complaining. Lu’Tstunwi chuckles, “It has only been 3 months, Tsmuke. Don't be dramatic”

Dramatically, Ti’ong leaned against Lu’Tstunwi, “3 months is too long”. Lu’law giggles at her Tsmuke antics when her eyes landed on the arriving clan. 

The Tipani clan. 

It is rare for the Tipani clan to attend the hunt since they live farther out in the forest region and would take longer to arrive. Perhaps they had a head start. 

Lu’Law took notice of her father smirking a bit playfully. “Dad? You know someone from the Tipani clan?” she asks, neteyam nods. “See that man over there? With the yellow shield on his back?”. The daughter nods. The man in question looked a bit older than neteyam. Seemed more experienced and a master level. 

“Well, his name is Tan Jala. We have a bit of competition in terms of physical skill. It is a bit over due to settle the score” neteyam says with determination in his voice. 

“You and your father are much alike” Syawn joins with a deadpan in her voice. 

“It is as uncle lo’ak says mom, like father like son”

On the other side of the field, young princling of the Tipani clan, atan afyawusìntxu was looking all over the na’vi that are settling in. It was his first time attending the Skxom hunt. Ready to prove himself not only to his people but to everyone else. 

His parents told him that the legendary Toruk Makto is here along with his clan. To hear the stories never tired him. And the clan he lives in must be powerful and strong too! But Toruko Makto wasn't the only person the young Tipani prince wishes to see. The blessed triplets too. 

Atan has heard of the historic communion from his mother. To see the triplets in front of him would be such an honor. Though secretly, the boy wishes to be friends with them. Not to hold political connections but to be genuine friends. 

“Atan, focus. This is your first hunt. You do well in being the face of our future to the others” atan's father says. The boy nods. “Yes father, I promise I won't make a fool of myself” 

“Stop making a fool of yourselves!!” Tuk warns at her niece and nephews. The triplets giggle as they make silly carvings while hanging upside down on one of the tall tents. Syawn giggles and places a hand on tuk’s shoulder. “Did you forget it was you who taught them to be silly, sister?”. Tuk inwardly groans, “Yes, and I regret it”. Syawn laughs heartily at it. 

“Auntie tuk! Come on! Join us!” Lu’law shouts, inviting tuk to join in their silliness. “You too mother! The view is lovely up here!” Lu’tstunwi says. The ladies shrug their shoulders and join in the fun. 

Lu’lafyon helps them up but wasn't quick. “Wait mother, don't step there-” 

“OW!” 

“Thank Eywa we didn't inherited mothers clumsiness” 

“I heard that!”

The next day arrives, and the skxom hunt begins. As the sun has risen, the games begin. The entire sully family prepares for the first rounds. Lu’law prepares the camera norm gave her. To record the best parts for the clan to see when they return home. 

“Ok, aaaaand we are rolling!” she announces. Lu’Lafyon and Lu’Tstunwi made silly poses in front of the camera. “Hello Omatikaya people! Today is the first day of the Skxom hunt! The first games are fishing and gathering in the lakes!” Lu’Lafyon announces to the camera. “Todays competitors are the Tipani clan, Ta’unui clan, Tayrangi clan and our fellow ally, the Mekayina clan!” Lu’Tstunwi follows. 

Lu’law giggles at their silliness. She turns the camera facing her and grins widely. “Join us as we record the greatest event in na’vi history! We are your voices! I am lu’law Sully!” she makes a peace sign. Her brothers join her on each side. 

“I am Lu’Tstunwi Sully!” 

“And I am Lu’Lafyon Sully!” 

“And you are watching Disney channel!” the three say in unison. 

“And uncle ao’nung is in the lead!! GO UNCLE GO!!” Lu’law screeches in excitement. She zooms in to where Ao'nung was head to head with a Tayrangi clan member. “The Tipani is falling behind a bit” she comments. 

There were cheers among the crowd. “*gasps!* uncle is-” 

“AO’NUNG OF THE METKAYINA IS REACHING THE END!!” 

A loud voice echoed in the massive field, reaching everyone's ears. Lu’law pointed the camera to show a na’vi holds a large sky demon technology that works as a speaker. “And that is O’ame of the Hulanta clan WHO IS VERY LOUD!” Tuk shouted behind lu’law. 

The young triplet laughs and while holding the camera, she leans over to get something from her bag when she unknowingly was recording someone…

Atan was cheering for his fellow clan member. He screamed at the top of his lungs, seeing the metkayina warrior having a greater chance at winning. 

“GO UNCLE GO!” 

He heard a bright cheery voice amongst all others. The voice is clear and bright. Atan carefully trying to pinpoint who it was, his eyes widened slightly in surprise. It was the triplet sister. Atan was awestruck. She wasn't that far from him. As his parents wanted, to make strong bonds with the Omatikaya clan. Perhaps this is a good chance. 

The sister was holding some demon technology. Something he despised of. It was odd looking like all demon technology. It had some dark circle in the center. Aiming at the competitors. Nothing was coming out of it. Perhaps it is somehow aiding the metkayina warrior? 

Atan was very confused but more bewildered when it aimed at him. The sister wasn't looking, she was leaning down and her arm moved when the object was facing him. He didnt feel any pain, no mind controlling, nothing of the things he has heard. Still feeling the same. 

The sister stood up straight again, and for a moment, Atan made eye contact with the sister…

Everyone surrounded Ao’nung as he was named winner of the swimming round. After that, more clans competed in the coming rounds. 

When night came, a huge communal feast was served. Many cooks, hunters, gatherers came to create a giant feast with each clan's specialties. Jake and neteyam, along with ao’nung and lo’ak, they left to meet with the other clan leaders, as for tuk, syawn, and neytiri left to assist in cooking. And where does the three little mischievous triplets leave to? 

An open field of chaotic adventure. 

“Let's go before Ikeyni smothers me again!” Lu’lafyon says as he and his siblings run along the long grass. 

The other two laugh at him and keep on running. Enjoying the feeling of freedom and the soft grass. At night does the land looks just as alive as in the daytime. 

Lu’Tstunwi was holding the camera as he slowly scans the grasslands with the camera. Trying to capture every detail. “And this was once home of the Sarentu clan. We have already paid our respects to the fallen. Sorry we couldn't record it. It was a private thing” he narrates. 

“Hey look, seems we aren't the only ones in thirst of adventure” Lu’law comments, Lu’tstunwi turns the camera to show young na’vi around their age and younger exploring the area. Playing games or just enjoying the environment. 

“Well my fellow lu and lu, I believe that is our cue to cover more grounds. Here, my turn” Lu’Lafyon says as he takes the camera from his brother. “Remember, it only has 335 hours left of the camera, so make each second worth it!” Lu’law warns. 

“Yeah yeah! Got it!” Lu’Lafyon says dismissively.  

And off the three went to their own little adventures and what to share with their family. 

“WOOOOOHOOOOOOO!!! YEAH!!” 

Lu’Law flew her ikran high in the sky. The nightly breeze was refreshing and felt wonderful. “Come on Ichi! Let's practice some more!” Lu’Law speaks with her ikran who screeches in agreement. 

Getting in a position as her ikran dives down in high speeds, letting the pressure of the wind take her off of ichi and fly high in the sky. The bioluminescent light illuminating her deep blue skin. Looking, for a moment, other worldly. 

At least that is what Atan describes when he saw Lu’Law making some insane tricks. As he too took his ikran flying in the young night. But hearing Lu’Law’s howls, it lured him to follow. And there, in the vast open skies, did he see Lu’law dance among the wind. Her movements were delicate as a leaf floating in the wind. 

Truly, Atan was in awe struck. His ikran roars, he looks and makes a quick move to avoid crashing the tall trees. Atan makes a sharp right, back into the open air. His eyes still staring at where he could have crashed before-

“LOOK OUT!!” a voice called out to him. 

His ikran took the initiative and ducked down. But atan looked up, as if time slowed down, once again he made eye contact with the na’vi who was on his mind for the whole day. The na’vi, Lu’law  truly is otherworldly. 

Time resumed and both passed each other. 

Lu’law turned ichi around and flew at the same pace as atan. “Hey are you alright? You almost hit that tree” she spoke with concern in her voice. Atan blinked a few times, “y-yes. I am fine. Thank you, I wasn't seeing where I was going” he explained. Lu’law smiles, assured he is fine. 

“You are from the Tipani clan right? What is your name?” she asks. Clearing his throat he replies, “my name is Atan afyawusìntxu. Or atan for short”. Lu’law gasped a bit, “for a name like that. That means you are the son of Olo'eyktan and tsahik, correct?” she asks. Again, atan nods. 

Lu’law giggles. Took a bit for Atan not to give such a reaction. It was a cute sound she made. Light and bubbly. “Well then atan, my name is Lu’Law sully from the Omatikaya” the girl introduces herself. “But I get the feeling you already know me” Lu’Law says, slightly nervous. 

Atand nods, “Hard to not know of you and your family lineage” he says. “But…I only know the surface” he continues. This made lu’law light up in glee. “Well then, atan. How about joining me in a little flight? Show you more than what you know?”. Taking the open invitation, atan accepts. And off the two fly higher together. Their ikrans dancing in rhythmic patterns. 

Down on the ground, Syawn was searching for her little mischief children as it was dinner time. Purposely, the triplets left their ear piece behind so as to not be found wherever they are. 

“This is getting old” Syawn says with a tired sigh. Her little complaints were hauled when she heard the familiar howls of cheers. She looks up to see lu’law flying ichi, but she wasn't alone. 

“Oh my…” Syawn whispers. Recognizing who is the second rider, she couldn't help but have a soft smile on her lips. The scene reminds her of many precious memories. Seeing lu’law enjoying her fun with the Tipani prince was certainly a sight. But one syawn won't share. Not until her daughter was ready. 

“No no, maybe I am thinking too deep into it…” the na’vi mother says to herself. Deciding on leaving her daughter to be with her new found friend. Syawn silently leaves with joy in her heart. 

“So if his name is lo’ak, why do you call him loki?” Atan asks. The two of them sit near a clif side of a hill, taking a break from their flying activities. “Loki is an old god the humans once believed. Was mischievous and would pull pranks and create trouble for fun. Thus, uncle loki since it suited my uncle” Lu’law explains. If atan has eyebrows, it would be raised. 

“Human stories? What good do they have? Don't you hate them?” he asks. He has heard of the Omatikaya clan were constantly being attacked. It would be logical to hate them. His clan does. Was raised to hate them as they only came to destroy their home. 

Lu’law shrugs a bit. “Not all of them, in fact there are humans that live in unity with my clan. My mother was once a human. But Eywa blessed her to be in her dreamwalker body to live with my father. The humans, or “science guys” as my grandfather calls them, are loyal to my people. Would rather lose their heads than betray”. 

Atan looks rather surprised and a bit perplexed. Lu’law caught on. “Well...I understand its odd for other clans. I would assume you were alright with the humans since your clan was the first to interact with them” she says. 

“Correct but it didnt mean we trusted them. After everything they have done. And killing my great grandparents. It is a wound that won't be healed for a long time…” Atan replies with slight sadness. Lu’law can only nod in understanding. 

“I guess it is only right to have different views on them. It is alright. Maybe-” She was interrupted by the sounds of the long horns being blown. Signaling that the communal dinner has started. 

“Right on time. Today worked up an appetite” Lu’law says with excitement to feast on some yummy food. Atan reflected her mood as he too smiled, “yes. Uumm..I enjoyed our chat together. Perhaps, if it is alright with you. Can we talk some more tomorrow…?” he asks a bit nervously. This made lu’law’s ears perk up and her tail swaying. 

“YES! *ahem!* I mean, yes. I enjoyed our time too. How about after tomorrows rounds? My aunt tsireya will be competing tomorrow and I want to be there to support her”. 

“Of course, in fact, my aunt will be attending as well” atan says. This sparked a bit of a competition between them. “Alright, may the best aunt win” Lu’law states, their hands shake as to confirm whatever they were doing. 

Saying their goodbyes, both left to their spots where their clan and family members are.

“Alright alright, settle down. Tsireya and Tuk, help me with the portions.” Neytiri instructs her two daughters as everyone settles down. Jake, lo’ak, tonowari and ao’nung were chatting. While Unyor, Ti’ong, and Syawn were chatting too. Neteyam entered their massive tent observing the whole family. A smile crept up to him. The warm glow of the fire and the happy chatter all over brought happiness to his heart. 

But he noticed 3 members are missing. 

Sitting next to his mate, giving her a kiss on the cheek, “my love, where are the kids?” he asks. Syawn was reminded of what she witnessed earlier but kept her face neutral. “No doubt exploring the grasslands. Don't worry, they will come soon, the horn was heard” she treasures. 

“Hurry before uncle ao’nung and uncle loki get the good stuff!!” Lu’lafyon rushes his siblings as they ran past everyone towards their tent. Lu’tstunwi and Lu’law do their best to keep up. 

“Would have been faster if we took the pali’s!!” lu’tstunwi with a bit of impatience in his voice. “And crash more people than we already are??” Lu’law asks a bit sarcastically as she steps on another tail on accident. 

The three kept saying sorry as they crash or step on someone. They see their family tent and ran faster. 

But Ronal was in the way. 

“What the…?” 

“BREAKS!!!” the triplets said in unison as they tried to halt their speed. Ronal was quick to step aside as the three tumble each other on the ground. “What are you three doing?” Ronal asks curiously. Bending down to make sure they are fine. The triplets groan a bit from the sudden stop and crush each other with their body weight. 

“Hi granny…we heard the horn so we ran as you saw” lu’tstunwi answered despite his cheek being smushed by lu’law’s hand.Ronal rolls her eyes at him, “there is plenty. No need to run like you are getting the scraps” she reminds. Lu’law hisses at lu’lafyon who moves around, “we will get scraps if we do-STOP TUGGING!!” he shouts at his siblings. 

Ronal was quick to separate the three. “Don't tangle your tails again, wouldn't want a repeat of that incident”. The triplets shudder at the old memory being mentioned. 

As the three separated, Ronal steadily took the lead in taking them to the tent. The three followed, neither walking in front or behind, but rather at her sides. “Your mother always leaves the best for you three. I doubt your uncles would leave bones behind for you”. 

“Sheesh! Calm down you three! There is plenty, why must you eat like your uncles?” Jake scolds his grandchildren. The triplets were eating in a rather fast pace, as if to compete with ao’nung and lo’ak. 

“Backs straight, I raised fine na’vi not mindless skxawngs” Sywan also scolds. “So did we” Neytiri and Ronal side eye their sons who were doing the same. 

“Sorry mom, after a long day of activity, hunger comes with no warning” Lu’tstunwi replies as he helps wipe off the mess from lu’fayon’s mouth. Syawn shakes her head and does the same with lu’law. “You are a lady, at least behave like one. What if a fine young na’vi sees you gobbling up like a pali? hm?” she says gently. 

Neteyam shakes his head, “well if that is what will drive away any mindless young ones, by all means lu’law, eat like an ikran”. 

Syawn lightly slaps neteyam’s shoulder, “don't be like that. One day she and our sons will find a mate of their own. Who is to say they won't find one here?”. Again neteyam shakes his head, this time in more denial “no, not now, and not ever. They are still too young to even think about tha. Especially our daughter". 

Lo’ak was quick to agree, “I second that!”. 

This time tsireya lightly slapped his head. 

Unyor gave a look towards ao’nung as to silence him before he says anything. 

The triplets were giving everyone equal unimpressed looks. “Really?” was what the three said. “Mom, dad, I highly doubt I will find someone any time soon. Especially here. This is two weeks we will be here. There won't be enough time to get to know someone and fall in love. Besides, I am busy recording all the good stuff for the people back home. Cant get side tracked” lu’law stated. 

The answer did satisfy neteyam and lo’ak. But syawn can't help but make a slight face. 

“Hhmmm…” 

“We know that hum sister,” Lu’tstunwi says. The three lay side by side in their shared hammock. Despite being old enough for their own, they refused. 

“Sorry but…but I just can't help it. Would dad really prevent us from finding someone?” lu’law asks. Lu’lafyon and lu’tstunwi looked at each other for a few seconds. “Most likely, but mom will be there to keep him in check” lu’tstunwi answers. 

“But also, there is the factor, DO we really want to find someone? And if so, when is the right time?” Lu’lafyon questions. The three humm in unison as they stare up at the clear starry night sky. 

“Why not make a pact promise?” Lu’tstunwi suggest. Lu’lafyon and lu’law turn to him with raised eyebrows. He elaborates, “like ummm….who ever each of us falls in love first or starts to like someone. We help each other in going forth? And should dad or anyone try to get in the way, we tattletell mom and help? How about it?”. 

The other two looked at each other in thought. “Soooo…one of us likes someone and the other two become support and guards…sounds like a good idea” lu’law says. The three nod in agreement and twirl their pinky fingers to seal their new pact. 

Sharing the same starry night sky, young atan was looking up with wonder and hope. After the recent exchange with lu’law, that girl couldn't be out of his mind. She was bright, sweet, and very engaging. 

But nothing is perfect, there is an itch atan can't get rid of. Her love for demon technology. That is something he cant easily overlook. 

“My son, what has got you so deep in thought?” his mother asks, interrupting his train of thought. She lays beside him, her warm smile bright and welcoming. Atan looks back at the sky and back to his mother. 

“It is a bit..complicated mother. I am not so sure myself” he replies in a low whisper. His mother wraps her arms around him, bringing him close. “M-mother, wait, I don't think father would-” 

“Oh hush, he is busy. A little hug won't hurt either of you. Now, about that head of yours” she playfully taps on his forehead. “If there is something you are not sure of, don't hesitate to ask. You can always come to me or to your father. Being lost in your mind isn't always good. Best to seek guidance from those close to you” the tsahik advice. 

Atan hums at her words, and snuggles closer to her embrace. “I guess, but this is something too early to tell. And I need to figure it out. Hopefully soon…” 

“And what did we learn?” tuk teases as she applies healing paste to lo’ak bruises. He rolls his eyes as tsireya wraps his injured hand. Neytiri sat across from him, arms crossed, clearly not impressed. 

“What? I can't help it! After that talk last night I had to check if everything was, you know…ok with them. Especially lu’law”. Tsireya releases a huff in amusement. “So you thought it was a good idea to hide within the herd of the sturmbeest? To spy on them?” 

Lo’ak sighs and hangs his head. “Look, as their uncle, isnt it my job to make sure they are ok? That no dumb thoughts cross their minds?”. 

“And being in the middle of a herd was a good idea?” Neytiri asks a bit sarcastically. Lo’ak hung his head even more as his ears pinned against his head. “Ma’loak, I know you care for them but syawn and neteyam are there. They are the parents, let them watch over their kids. You on the other hand have a hunt to prepare in 2 days. Can't have you be distracted” Tsireya scolds gently with a warm smile. 

“Fine, but I am still going to tell neteyam-” 

“Absolutely not” 

“Ok, here are your arrow-WOA!!” 

Neteyam caught syawn easily like it was one of his five senses. “Still falling for me?” he smirks playfully, making syawn blush like a teenager. It never fails. 

“N-neteyam, not now, you have to be up there soon” syawn said with a bit of shake in her voice. Putting the bow and arrows aside, neteyam picks up his beloved and spins around. Causing syawn to squeak in surprise. 

“Neteyam!! We can do this later!!” syawn says as her mate keeps spinning. Neteyam however laughs and keeps spinning with love in his eyes, “I don't mind skipping”. Coming to a halt, he stops but hasn't put his love down. “Come on neteyam. Didn't you say you have a score to settle with a Tipani? I want to see you win” syawn encourages. 

“I do. Buuuuut being with you is better” he pulls her in for a loving kiss to which syawn happily reciprocates. 

“OUR EYES!!” 

Quickly the mates pulled away to see their children cover their eyes and make gagging noises. “Hey, you may be grossed out now. But when you find your mate, you three will be doing the same” Syawn says. 

“Unlikely” neteyam comments with a little grin. 

“Yeahyeahyeah! They are calling for you dad. Don't keep them waiting!” Lu’tstunwi says. “Beat Tan Jala’s ass!” Lu’lafyon shouts, fisting the air. “Show him what you are all about!” Lu’law adds. 

Warmth filled neteyams heart, smiling lovingly at his children. Pulling all three close along with his mate, he hugs them all tightly. “Dad…?” he hears one of his kids say, but he just takes a moment of being with them. “Ssshhh…let him have this” Syawn whispers. 

The triplets then understood and wrapped their arms around each other. Their family fully embracing in their little bubble of love. 

skxom = chance, opportunity

atan afyawusìntxu = Guiding light

Taglist: : @quirkyhero , @theunfortunateplace , @moonchildxoxx , @galactict3a , @mochacoffeeumai26 , @cloudyw1ndzz

[gabessquishytum]

hob is the kind of guy to be resourceful and provide for his partner. like, he’s a Man and not a boy, and he wholeheartedly believes it to be his main mission in life to be the provider of the family, and he loves it. maybe in medieval times he proposed to dream and dream runs away to be with hob, paranoid it was a mistake to give up his family fortune for love, but all his doubts are washed away when hob builds him a house, and works all day to make sure dream is fed and clothed and happy. if dream says he wants something hob’ll waste no time in getting it for him, because he wants nothing more than for dream to feel fulfilled and happy. if there’s only enough food for one of them hob would set himself on fire before taking it from dream, it doesn’t matter that he’s the one working outside all day, he’s only working for dreams sake anyway

Aww I love provider and protector Hob!! His idea of masculinity involves kindness, gentleness, and giving everything for his partner. He would build a house up from the ground, grow a garden to provide delicious food, hunt for the best game in the forest. He would weave and dye the finest clothes for Dream to wear, and even make him beautiful jewellery to adorn his lovely figure.

And Dream, everyone’s favourite little princling, loves this. A lot. He’s been spoiled his whole life, but now he wants to spoiled by Hob!! He’s fed up with impersonal gestures from servants and family that don’t really care about him. He wants to be loved and cherished, and that’s what Hob does for him.

And Hob? Nothing makes him happier than being the one who loves and gives everything to make Dream’s days wonderful. Dream is his darling, his little prince, the light of his life! He deserves the world! And Hob is going to climb over hot coals if he has to to make him feel loved.

Because if Dream feels half as loved as Hob does, then he knows that he'll be doing a good job.

[asphodel-storm]

T’was the week before Christmas and off in the night

One princling was hiding his damn self from sight

The note had been left on Raine’s pillow with care

Instead of the person she thought would be there

While she was all nestled all snug in her bed

That backstabbing jerkface had turned tail and fled

By law he’s a prisoner, he’s just out on bail

By running he basically broke out of jail

But Raine was not sad over these legal matters

It’s only that now her heart was in tatters

Off to become worthy, to change his foul way

When all that she needed was for him to stay

Her friends were immediately on the attack

Tyril even offered to drag his ass back

But duty and questing could simply not wait

Whether they’d meet again would be left up to fate

They journeyed on, for the realm needed saving

Despite what one quester’s heart was now craving

More vapid than seagulls, his excuses came

Echoing in her mind like a constant refrain

“I’m sorry, I promise, this has meant so much

I just find that I’m unworthy of your touch

I will go for now, myself to redeem.”

So she was left wondering: what did THAT mean?

Surely he’d only do right by the land

If he stayed beside her, fought hand in hand?

It wasn’t to be, he’s been gone a while

But perhaps by Friday there will be cause to smile?

When Aerin returns will he prove himself true?

He certainly has some explaining to do >_<

I've never played tbolas, so this may be wonky. But @baldwinboy5ive apprised me of the situation and so I wrote this for her on a whim. Happy holidays Aerin enjoyers! I hope Friday is everything you've been hoping for.

[blodgmonster]

Queen of Shadows reread commentary part 2

-- Aedion: Ghost Leopards are awful, scary creatures. Please don't shift into one.

Lysandra:

-- Sin Eater has a temple filled with carved bones. Carved bones. Bone Carver. The bones in the sin eater's temple are confessions written before people died. The Bone Carver carves people's deaths. Very interesting.

-- "I'm doing this because I do not wish to see my queen become a demon herself." TOO LATE, LORCAN

-- "if it was death separating us...I would find you. I don't care how many rules it would break. Even if I had to get all three keys myself and open a gate, I would find you again. Always." ROWAN!!!!

-- "She'd forgotten the name she'd been given, but it made no difference. She had only one name now. Death, devourer of worlds." FUCK EM UP, KALTAIN.

-- "Hello, princling."

"Hello, witchling"

-- So Dorian has a moment where he regains control and THAT'S when Chaol decides he needs to be killed. He's such an IDIOT. I can hardly stand it.

-- "A monster incarnate. But perhaps the monsters needed to look out for each other every now and then." FUCK YEAH!!

-- FLEETFOOT!!!!!!!!!!!!! God, I want a dog.

-- "They tried to shoot my...Rowan through the heart." YOUR MATE! YOUR MATE

-- "Your mother went down fighting. She was a witch, and you are a witch, and you do not yield— you do not yield —" ELIDE SAYS YOU DO NOT YIELD FIRST

-- UNCLEAN. I'd call Manon's grandmother a cunt but she lacks the depth and warmth.

-- Aelin and Lysandra's friendship is just the BEST. And then of course we also have Manon and Asterin's friendship as well as Manon and Elide's friendship. I love well written female friendships.

-- "promise me...that you will walk out of that castle tomorrow." Nooooo not quite, Nesryn.

-- " WITCH KILLER — THE HUMAN IS STILL INSIDE HIM" Manon, I love you so.

-- "Light up the darkness, Majesty." "Light it up, Danika!"

-- Do we ever find out why Lorcan changed his mind and decided to help them after screwing them over so badly? I can't remember.

-- GHOST LEOPARD LYSANDRA COMING IN WITH THE HAIL MARY SAVE!!!!!! AND THEN NESRYN SAVES LYSANDRA! I forgot about that!

-- MANON SAVING ELIDE!!!!!!!! "Not one more. Not one more female would she allow them to take." FUCK YEAH!!

-- "It did not seem like a weakness to fight for those who could not defend themselves. Even if they weren't true witches." * screaming crying throwing up *

-- "You find Celaena Sardothien. Give her this. No one else. No one else. Tell her that you can open any door, if you have the key. And tell her to remember her promise to me — to punish them all. When she asks why, tell her I said they would not let me bring the cloak she gave me, but I kept a piece of it. To remember the promise she made. To remember to repay her for a warm cloak in a dark dungeon."

"She burned the cradles. She burned the monsters within. She burned the men and their demon princes. And then she burned the witches, who looked at her with gratitude in their eyes and embraced the dark flame."

KALTAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!

-- Lysandra puking on Lorcan is priceless.

-- ohhhh Lorcan helped because he realized Aedion is Gavriel's son.

-- Aelin granting Lysandea land. The female friendships in this book are spectacular.

-- Eyllwe is free. Aelin wishes that Nehemia was there to see it. Me too. Me too.

-- "And at long last, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was home."

I thought Heir of Fire was my favorite but it might actually be Queen of Shadows.

Up next I attempt the tandem read of EoS and ToD. We'll see how that goes...

[dirtyoldmanhole]

fuck it, have a decently long slowburn excerpt, this was morbidly fun to write.

Xander confronts Gunter on his relationship with Corrin, set right about "Black Flame" in Revelation.

unedited.

Discipline was even more crucial in these knife-edged days when former enemies and bloodied soldiers were spending every waking hour in close quarters; the old knight had no illusions that many of them had fought on the same battlefield on opposite sides, and that the whole camp could erupt into seething tensions over old grudges or quarrels at any day. 

Such matters, he debated, might’ve just become a non-issue with the arrival of the last Nohrian royal.

Crown Prince Xander—young black diamond and star of the Nohrian kingdom—was a powerfully built figure, especially on horseback where he preferred to lead the ever-shifting tides of warfare from. At twenty-nine tender years, he was in his prime and a lion that boasted the reverence of the army and the grudging respect of the mages guild for his matchless prowess in the battlefield. 

Xander was also Garon’s favoured sword to use to bring miscreants into line, an association that the old knight had never forgotten since the days of the Concubine Wars.

The very same blonde princling had been pacing outside the healer’s tent for him, strangely enough, and glanced up with recognition when Gunter strode out. He was thankful that his nose was not bloodied as an embarrassment, small mercies, though the old knight was sure his luck would run out soon.

As if reading his mind, fate obliged. 

"Sir Gunter, a word in private, if you will."

“Of course, your majesty.” 

Trailing respectfully a step behind and to the side in the customary position, the old knight followed the prince further into the twisty dark recesses of the volcanic rocks that made the canyon, beyond earshot of the watchguards who were long since distracted to even care about their conversation. Everyone was either paying attention to the circus amok in the camp or too uneasy by the Bottomless Canyon’s endless gloom to care about two figures slipping away.

Gunter would have to lay into the watchguards for their slip, after this conversation. 

“I would have your thoughts on Princess Corrin.” Xander’s expression was smooth and polished. Too smooth. “I have reports that you have spent considerable time with her as of late.”

The trap was carefully worded, carefully deniable. And yet, Gunter was all too aware of court politics to see the naked dagger ensheathed in the other hand, behind the open hand. It was fitting that this prideful lion would be the one of the royal siblings to come with this particular threat at hand. 

Gunter had known the court would make its opinion on their relations clear, at some point.

“Milady Corrin is a natural leader and well equipped to lead this force.” Gunter replied back with forced neutrality. “She has bridged tensions that will benefit Nohr and its citizens immensely in the coming years.” 

Xander gave a pitying smile. “With all due respect, sir knight, I am referring to more personal time.”

Gunter stayed silent, waiting. The prince was not done, and it would not do to interrupt the inevitable dressing-down that came from the highest ranks. He grimly considered with the darkest humour it was a warped honour that somebody no less than the crown prince would consider the dalliances of such an elderly knight worthy of his time.

"Girls like her are... flighty." The worst part was he could tell by the Prince’s pitying expression he meant the words as a kindness. Xander fiddled with the cuff of his white riding glove, a half smirk playing on his face in an obvious attempt at the unsavoury male bonding that went on behind doors. "You do know silly chits like that. Fancies, whims of fantasy, such adorable little crushes. Wonderful when they're young flowers, simply wonderful to remember such beauties exist." 

Gunter tasted blood intermingled with raw hatred on his tongue as the Nohrian prince continued, oblivious. "In time these girls will bloom, and they too have their own purpose with proper marriages as according to our esteemed tradition. And that one is simply too..." There was a gleam in Xander's eye as the crown prince licked his lips, such a predatory gleam the old knight had to suppress a powerful urge to rip the royal's throat out on the spot with his gauntlets. "Simply too unique, as a true flower among many such blossoms in Nohr to be picked so willy-nilly. Her future will be just so."

To be wasted on someone like you, was the clear threat. A desiccated ghost of a commoner that didn't deserve a single touch of hers.

If you only knew, prince. It was hard to resist the contemptuous sneer. If Xander had been any other Nohrian man, honour stipulated that the old knight would strike him down on the spot. 

You truly are one of Garon's own, crown prince. A fitting legacy for him.

'I'm disappointed in you, Gunter. Nohr will not be kind to the choices made here." It was the only glance that Xander deigned to meet his with. And still, the old knight stood with his gaze burning into the cliff wall slightly to the right, his jaw flexing with cold fury. There was nothing the old knight could fucking act on except take the barbs on the chin with stoicism of a stone statue. Any such open defiance would be the certain death of his lover’s strained little alliance. 

In that moment, It was the only thread of reason that restrained his hand from acts of cold murder, and regicide.

"My lady Corrin will make her own decisions, as she has always done." Gunter replied flatly, an abyss of malice flavouring every syllable. And I will ensure that to my last breath, scion of Nohr and blight upon this world.

Xander looked askance, almost looking boredly disappointed at the reminder.

"So she will."

"Is there anything more, my lord?"

The prince didn't even meet his eyes now, fluttering a hand in clear disdain. "No, I suppose that will be it. Dismissed."

Your delicate little flower has bloomed under my hand, so strong and beautiful that you come running to her feet like a bitch in heat, Gunter ached to hiss in his ear as the old knight stiffly stalked past the crown prince. You, my tender royal, are ensnared in her garden now, in ways you are eternally blind to—that same garden I have tended for decades—and your grave will be buried there, at her feet.

At her feet and mine.

But he stayed silent.

For Corrin, for his love, for her plans, for his plans—Gunter stayed silent, and fervently begged to any god or devil that would listen that his revenge would taste as profoundly sweet as he had fantasised for decades.

[kelbunny]

Roland for the character ask game? :)

:D

First impression

I latched onto Roland instantly. This was back with the debut demo (the chapter 6-7 one), so I got a good peek at his early game angst, and boy, did I want to see him break. I could tell he was already slotting into that role.

And I only got more interested after he was pointed out to be wearing Maxwell's mask in an early trailer. Masked men my beloveds.

Impression now

I wanted him to break, and break he hecking did. I'm a huge fan of his tragic slip into his own despair. I have so many thoughts about him all the time.

He's the most interesting and well written character in all of TriStrat in my opinion. The fact that his major character flaws (his self doubt, recklessness, etc) are visible from as early as chapter 1 really helps set him up for later in the game. And I really love how chapter 17 gives him two major paths to go down. You've got his own ending, where he gives into those negative qualities about himself, and golden, where he, with Serenoa's guidance, works to push himself to be a better person. I think about his mid battle convo with demigod Idore a lot, where he admits he has been struggling to find himself.

And there are so many more thoughts. At some point I really aught to turn on voice to text and just dump all my thoughts about this princling, bc boy, they are many and not always coherent haha.

Favorite moment

I really, really like his part of chapter 18 Golden, where he tries to reason with Gustadolf as well as the fight itself. He still hates Gustadolph, but he's putting his trust in Serenoa's plan even if it means siding with someone he still considers an enemy. That he's allowing himself to lean on Serenoa's conditions till he has the strength to stand up for his own. And when negotiations fail and it turns to battle, you have his mid battle convo with Gustadolph, where he admits that that desire for revenge has been eating away at him. It's feels like a good first step for Roland as he tries to climb out of his despair.

And then there's his battle with Serenoa in liberty, where he breaks but in a far different way than utility. Despite how much he treasures his friendship with Serenoa, he's envious that Seranoa had everything he didn't: fatherly love, the support of his people, even just skill in battle. And the fight is so hecking good. It's by far the most charged of the three and it's the one I consistently rewatch.

Idea for a story

I've mentioned wanting to write a post golden comfort thing between him in Cordelia in her ask, but I also want to write or comic something short and emotional between him and Serenoa set between arriving at Wolffort after escaping Whiteholm and the order to surrender Roland to the Duchy, where Serenoa tries to help ground a Roland who's trying to come to terms with everything that just happened.

I also want to write something post liberty of what leads him to where he is as a wandering monk haha.

Unpopular opinion

I don't think Roland is ooc in chapter 17, I just think a lot of people aren't really recognizing his motivation of why he's aligning with Hyzante. I won't go super in detail here as I did that in a seperate post.

Favorite relationship

There are, so many!

First and foremost, his sibling relationship with Cordelia. I said this before, but I'm a sucker for sibling relationships, especially if the older sibling is the protective type. Like maybe it's just me also being and older sibling but just like, siblings man.

On a similar note, the friendship between him and Serenoa. Part of the reason I like the Liberty Ending Battle between him and Roland is because it hurts so much because they had such a natural friendship between them, so seeing in break is heart-rending. They 100% feel like they've been friends for years, and they feel brotherly, even before learning that they are brothers.

And then there's the father-son dynamic of him and Maxwell. One of my very few complaints about Triangle Strategy is that they should have allowed the two to interact after Maxwell recovered though if they had been given the chance to interact, I doubt Roland would have come to his chapter 17 decision. A talk with his dad would fix him

Favorite headcanon

Despite him being my favorite, I do have to admit I don't really have any haha, outside of some post ending speculations like him rising up against Serenoa in Liberty.

I guess one that there is is that I don't imagine him as the religious type, both towards the Goddess as well as towards whatever religion is big in Glenbrook glances at Cordelia's cleric class, but I do imagine him leaning towards the Glenbrook God/Gods post liberty as something to try and rally the people around, if only because he's referred to as a monk at the end of Liberty.

[we-dragons]

Chapter 22

The boy looks at me incredulously, as if he didn't believe a word from my mouth.

"You mean to tell me that the people who ran that dinky place you live in claim to be your family? Not only that, they are shape-shifting fairies from your dimension who want to take you with them and make you a member of royal court. Y/N I think that maybe you've been reading too much fan fiction and it's begun to blur your perception of reality and people."

"I'm not lying! it was so cold and impossible. Do you think I would hide in a closet and shake like a leaf for fun?"

"Well you've done weirder things-"

"This not a Joke!" I slam my hands on the table, shaking some of the cups full of pomegranate juice. My nerves are on end feeling for anything wrong, working over time. The bloody sigils glowing in where something was pushing against it. "I knew it was too quiet. It was too perfect. I know this sounds weird and delusional. If you still feel like something I said sounds wrong we can go back to the place in the morning. But it's too much right now, I-I just need to calm down." I slump over the table shaking, tears prickling my eyes. Something, I assume his chair, scrapes against the floor, and his hand rubs at my back.

"I'm sorry, I'll tell the others we are here, and ask them not to bother us. I imagine they'll want to know why." His voice is soft and firm.

I shake my head vigorously, I turn my body to hug him watching the marks on the walls. Something still pressing against it. "Ask them if they go out from now on, wear something Iron, one article of clothing inside out, and some of the blackberry stalks from Alfred's garden."

I had dealt with fairies in the past, one of my caretakers and mentors was a High fae of his world as well. His name was Enlil, an old man who had lost his people and his family to a plague that rotted people of magic from the inside. Enlil took good care of me while evading the Crow. The world he was on failed him and he sent me here. Time was odd there, but he taught me all he could. These sigils are his work, they just don't hold against the Crow.

I let my arms move from his side and open a small pocket, pulling out an iron bracelet. The bracelet had some things fae are repulsed by, marked with symbols, and cursed to those who would harm the wearer. I place it in his hands.

"I want you to wear this, I made it just in case something would happen to my brother. But I see that this might be more difficult than I had originally planned. It won't work on me, I made to many mistakes in the spell carving. But it will on anyone else. It should keep you safe from the....things outside."

He raises a brow but puts the iron thing on.

"I didn't take you for a superstitious person."

"I am a cautious person."

I look out the window. I see, no, feel something, move past it a shiver runs up and down my spine. When I turn around again, he is gone. I sit down on the ground. I hear whispers all around me.

"Y/N~Join us~"

The voice is raspy and quiet, as if directly in my ear to scold me. I stay on the floor contemplating. I can't hear the world around me. Just these voices. So many voices. I can't hear Nightmare. I can't feel the boys. The world around me feels blank. Just the voices. The ones who can't reach me but they know where I am. I feel like I'm back on the ship, again. I want not to exist again. I can't speak my body hurts. I'd rather fight the Crows again. I hate It here.

I hate fairies.

I claw at my face. Anything, to drag myself from this. I feel something cold run down my face. No pain, but I gather that its blood on the floor. I try to move, but my hand slips on the ground at first. I manage to get up again. I force myself to a window and watch the world. I forgo my usual perception of the world and let myself see the world in between.

I blink and frog eyes stare back at me. I jolt back. A twisting grin flashes at me showing sharp teeth caked in blood. A shiver runs down my spine.

"HelLo PriNClinG."

I hold myself, fingers digging into my upper arms.

"Leave me alone!"

The creature cocks his head.

"LeAvE?" It laughs blinking his eyes one at a time.

"Shut up and go away!" I sob, screaming at the window. I want Nightmare, I want my friends, I want my tea.

"hOW UnCoUth WHAT evEr SHouLd i do? the PriNCeliNG is a mESs. NoT LIke olD prinCE, OnLY smiLeD oNce iN 500 yEaRs."  It claws at the glass. "OLd pRInCe likeD wAr AnD blOod, neW PRINCe MOM MADe olD pRINce sofT. DOn't LikE IT."

You could kill him.

My spine straightens, and I drop my hands from my arms.

"Yeah, I can do that. Can't I?"

Then what are you waiting for? My permission?

The beast looks confused at me, frowning.

"PRIncEliNg doEsN'T loOK lIKe PrINcelING."

Kill him now.

I pull out a dagger from my pocket portal.

Bleed him

I step closer to the window eyes meeting the creature.

Cut him open

I raise an arm holding a dagger.

Ha ha!

What am I doing? My arm shakes and the creature laughs at me. My blood boils. Something in me wants to kill this thing I feel it in my body.

Come on Y/N, what's his life to you? This thing doesn't even like you, right? Just give in. Let me take a turn. When have you ever been so weak? Get a move on.

"Shut up! Shut up!! SHUT UP!!!" I throw down the knife. "Get out of my head! I don't need you! I won't kill this thing. I don't care! Mom-"

Mom is dead! Dad is Dead! Want revenge just a little you god fucking idiot! Why not release some of your anger, your frustration? Kill him. Kill him now!

Something appears in the window, no I do, I'm in the glass. A gold-eyed version of me. Choking the creature.

"W-WHat?"

You should take notes Y/N, this is what you should be doing to those who wrong you.

[lucigoo]

Calmwrimo: Day 30 - 3220 words

Final day, i wrote 3220 words and got a new wip finished and posted. Heres the link and a snippet

"He's Our Family To" on A03

Harry turned, hands on his hips, chest heaving from exertion and his overwrought feelings. “We are stupid. You doubly so.” Harry said to Remus accusingly. “How so?” He asked in his understanding voice. “Ughh.” Harry shouted at him. “Don’t pretend to be normal. We can’t be normal. We fell in love with bloody Blacks, you twice. Andromeda said that whilst it’s a joke, when Sirius says Blacks are sirens, it’s true. How can I love him so much and yet want to wring his ferrety neck, Moony?” Harry whined as he threw himself back on his bed, grumbling about stuck up ferrets and pale princlings who needed throttling. Remus tried to hold his laughter in, but was well aware he failed as he walked to Harry’s bed and sat on the end.. “Argument?” he asked gently. “Argument? Argument? I bloody wish it was just a stupid argument. He’s being unreasonable. Like, forgive me Draco that you can’t run with us, because my brother is too little for wolfsbane and even a baby werewolf's bite will turn you, but yes, I will go to support my dad and brother tomorrow night. How is that not straight forward or reasonable?” Harry asked Remus as he sat up, his hands flying everywhere, following the flow of his words. It wasn’t that Remus wasn’t listening, but in that moment he saw more of Sirius in Harry than he could James. It was both a wonderful and a sobering thought. “Well, there’s a secret I have to tell you, Harry.” Remus said as he leant in close, Harry following suit. “Blacks are batshit crazy love, they make little sense,” he all but whispered. Smiling when Harry leant his head back and laughed loudly at his dad’s words.

[tbtgtr-incorrectquotes]

A prompt in the Lady Hightower au for the Ask Game:

Don't know if Naerys/Daemon happens in this AU, but in this prompt it does: I would like to read about Otto reaction when Naerys announces she's taking Daemon as a secons husband (with Daemon at her side, bc he would not miss the opportunity to see Otto choke on outrage)

Otto walks into the room and nearly walks back out again once he sees Daemon standing next to Naerys Arryn. He’s wearing that stupid smug look that only appears when he believes he won something and Otto knows exactly what he’s won.

Elaenora is ignoring him but that isn’t unusual, she had never been fond on anyone except her twin. Her twin, his dear Daven had a bored look on his face, violet eyes tired and red hair nearly tied in a ‘ponytail’ that Naerys had deemed handsome.

and of course, Cordelia was off in the Vale as always with that boy. Pity, she would’ve made a wonderful bride to Cregan Stark if she hadn’t been so taken by that boy.

“Children, Lord Otto, as you know Daemon has put forward his suite.” Naerys calmly says. “I have decided to accept.”

Elaenora looks up from her book. “Congratulations! Be aware that if you hurt mother I will be the first in line to strike you’re head from your body.”

How dare she of course the moment Ormund died she took advantage to marry the princling. But he couldn’t fight back, no of course he couldn’t. That fool Viserys would be beyond pleased.

“That’s wonderful, Mother!” Daven says pleasantly. “I hope your consort is aware he’s marrying the richest and most powerful woman in the Seven Kingdoms and that we’re more than willing in aiding to hide a body.”

At least Otto did one thing right, he tried to comfort himself in vain. At least the children were willing to kill for their family.

“Perhaps in the Vale,” Otto adds, relishing in the flicker of fear in the bastard’s eye. If only Lady Royce hadn’t divorced him his ashes would’ve been scattered there.

Perhaps his good niece would leave, leaving him as the sole voice in Daven’ ear. The sooner, the better.

[whumpeewhumpwhump]

(AI-less) Whumptober Prompt 9: Scar reveal/Interrogation/Presumed dead

(Apologies for having the wrong date on yesterday's, didn't realize until just now lol. Here's a fun lil time with some more OCs from the book i finished writing earlier this year. Poor man going through it. Hope you enjoy!!)

~~

Prompt 9: Scar Reveal/Interrogation/Presumed dead

Ackerly grunted as his head snapped back, thanks to the punch Baul delivered to his jaw. He took a couple breaths and readjusted his position in the chair he was shackled to before he brought his head back up and glared at the man before him.

It had been 20 years. 20 years since Ackerly had faked his death and spirited two children away from the wrath of the new tyrant. For all those years, he had worked hard to blend in, to keep his charges safe—even going so far as to separating them when he first arrived to Sommersee. They had been safe for all those years, only for his hard work and planning to disappear in an instant. All with Baul, now the Right Hand to the King (King being used very loosely by Ackerly), appearing at his smithy with Ackerly's ward in tow.

He should have known that Sable would take after her parents, he had just hoped she gained the traits that would have kept her safe. The last thing he wanted was the stubbornness or curiosity. He couldn’t bring himself to blame her. Ackerly told her virtually nothing about who her parents were or where she came from, originally. Or even who Ackerly really was. All she knew was that he was her uncle and her parents were killed 20 years ago during the Coup and that Baul was to blame. 

Sable didn't know the danger, which was Ackerly's fault.

Another grunt as another punch drove into his stomach. He coughed and turned to spit up blood before resuming the position. Baul wasn’t alone, of course. In the dungeon cell stood at least four King’s Men, dressed in their maroon tunics emblazoned with the now royal seal of the Morrigan family--a Griffon. Outside of the cell stood the Prince who was accompanied by another guard that looked around the Prince’s age. Baul’s protege, Ackerly surmised. 

Baul’s protege stepped forward as Baul pulled back. She whispered something in his ear as he took a rag from one of the guards and wiped his hands. With a nod, Baul dismissed her and turned his head, “So glad you could join us, Princling. It’s about time you’ve learned something while you have me as your tutor,” Baul turned back to Ackerly, but still addressed the Prince. “Pay attention, Your Highness. If you wish to become ruler one day, you have much to learn,”

Without warning, Baul struck out and delivered two punches to Ackerly, one to his jaw and another to his stomach. Ackerly sat doubled over a bit longer, absorbing the pain. He wouldn’t give the man the satisfaction of hearing his cries of protest.

“Back to the questioning, then,” Baul continued. “Tell me. You and I both know the existence of this resistance you call the Schism. All I need from you is their location,”

This again. Ackerly couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in his chest. Despite the pain, despite the blood that seeped from his split lip and most likely broken nose, Ackerly laughed. “You know,” Ackerly said, voice raspy, “For a Right Hand, you really don’t live up to your predecessors. I already told you, I know nothing of this resistance,”

Baul nodded as he paced around Ackerly. Ackerly couldn’t help the spike in his heart-rate when Baul came to a stop behind him and placed his hands on Ackelry’s shoulders. Ackerly hid a flinch when the Right Hand squeezed uncomfortably. “You know,” Baul said, echoing Ackelry, “For someone at my mercy, you do tend to talk quite a bit. Unfortunately, your type of talking isn’t the kind I want. You keep playing hard to get. Pretending that you aren’t who I know you to be,”

Baul released Ackerly’s shoulders moved to Ackerly’s front in two strides. The Right Hand planted his hand on the back of Ackerly’s chair and settled until the two were almost touching noses. Ackerly couldn’t stop himself from leaning back.

“Admit who you are,” Baul growled, “and tell me where the resistance is based,”

Ackerly took a couple of breaths before he pulled back and spit in Baul’s face. He watched smugly as blood mixed with saliva slowly trailed from Baul’s eye. For a moment, Baul stayed where he was before he slowly stood up straight. His protege handed Baul his rag, which he used to wipe it all away.

Calmly, much calmer than Ackerly expected or wanted him to be, Baul nodded towards something behind Ackerly. “Martes, if you please,”

The hairs on the back of Ackerly’s neck stood as the presence of something appeared behind him. Ackelry strained to look behind him, only catching a glimpse of a shimmering cloak. Suddenly, a figure was standing right next to him. At first, it was hard to look at them. The cloak that they were bundled in shifted with the shadows of the cell, but that's what gave them away.

Ackerly’s heart started beating even faster. His breathing quickened. He had heard of people like the one that stood next to him. Fae-touched under the employ of the King. People with Blessings—rather, Curses—used nefariously. In this person’s instance, their Curse could be used for interrogation.

Ackerly had a dreadful feeling that he was going to figure out what this man’s powers were sooner rather than later.

He had expected Baul to make a threat first. Expected him to ask more questions, but Ackerly had made him much angrier than he had thought. With only a nod as a warning, the person—Martes—struck out a hand much faster than Ackerly could react. Their hand grabbed Ackerly around the nape of his neck and suddenly, his body was on fire. Every nerve in his body, starting with the nerves in his neck and spiderwebbing outwards, was alight with unimaginable pain. His entire body stiffened. His eyes widened, straining to pop out of his skull. 

For a moment, Ackerly couldn’t breathe. His lungs stopped working and yet sound still escaped him. Not screams, but a strained whine. Only when he remembered how to take a breath did the screaming start. 

Ackerly didn’t know how long Martes inflicted this pain on him. His vision came in and out due to the pain and the fact that Ackerly had them squeezed shut once the pain got to its peak. Once the pain did stop, though, Ackerly’s entire body went limp in his chair. His breathing came uneven and shaky as tears flowed unchecked down his cheeks. His muscles spasmed like he had been electrocuted. Everything still hurt.

“See how fun that is? A new toy, courtesy of the King.”

Suddenly, Baul was in Ackerly’s vision. Ackerly leveled a withering glare at Baul. It was all he could do. In another world, he’d be able to get out of his binds and take on the man in front of him. Another time. But he was old now. His body already felt tired and achy. Ackerly didn’t know how much longer he could hold out.

“You won’t tell me about the rebellion,” Baul said, “That’s fine. We can revisit that. You won’t admit who you are, which is also fine. I know another way I can prove it once and for all,”

Ackerly grimaced as Baul reached towards him. He was expecting more physical pain. More torture. Not for Baul to rip open the front of his shirt. Ackerly heard a gasp come from the Prince when he realized what had been revealed. 

“There it is,” Baul said. “Those friends of yours mingled with the fae, right? They must have driven themselves crazy trying to heal that. It’s nice to see that even with magic, I left you a reminder,”

Ackerly spared a look at his now bare chest. In the center was the scar he tried to ignore for 20 years. It was a large, jagged, star-shaped scar that rested right over his heart—a killing blow to anyone. He remembered the incident like it was yesterday. Baul in his prime ambushing Ackerly with four other goons. Ackerly fighting back as best as he could with what he had on hand, but Baul ultimately getting the upperhand and running him through with Ackerly’s improvised weapon—a dagger long shard of glass.

Ackerly was the first casualty of the Coup. Really, it was thanks to Baul killing him a day too early that he was able to accomplish what he did.

But Baul didn't know that.

The smile on Baul’s face was almost feral. “I really believed you dead all these years. My greatest victory. I killed one of this Kingdom’s untouchable Knights. I had heard whispers that you had survived, but I was a fool and dismissed it. It couldn't be true. I was the one to deliver the mortal blow. I was the one who watched the light die from your eyes. I was the one who put down the Terror of the Hill. Shame I couldn’t put my pride aside. But it’s no matter. I’ll be more than happy to kill you for a second time,”

A lump formed in Ackerly’s throat, but he breathed through it. If he was a distraction from Sable’s true heritage, that was fine. If he died and she survived, fine. 

But something in the back of his head tingled. The daughter of his best friends wasn’t going to let him die here. As much as he hated the idea of her marching into the Keep and breaking him out, the more and more he thought about it, the more and more it seemed the most likely outcome. 

And who was he to tell the daughter of the former Hands of the King what to do.