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streets-in-paradise · 3 years ago

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For Honor and Love - Helen x Paris.

Troy (2004) Oneshot.

( this images are captures from the gifs of my lovely mutual @hell0friend-dat )

Requested by @taurielthepirateking. ( Hope you will enjoy it, dear mutual

Word Count + 2.200

Characters: Helen, Paris, Hector (mentioned)

Warnings: Grief and excruciating angst (but there is also comfort fluff)

Summary: Sick of witnessing how Paris falls apart from grief after the death of Hector while refusing to accept any consolations out of guilt, Helen attempts to comfort him.

Tags: @mysticaldeanvoidhorse ( tagging you just in case you wanna check this because i know you enjoy my Troy content.)

@spideyanakin @spideyanakin-interacts ( tagging you late, sorry. I’m adding you to a permanent taglist for the Paris content)

Helen woke up in the middle of the night to find herself in an empty bed. It didn't surprise her, since it was becoming more common given what Paris was going through. She was also living the grief over the loss of a best friend, but her friend was his brother. Hector left his mark on everyone who knew him, he was loved by everyone on so many different levels, but the crushing pain of his passing was particularly strong for Paris. They used to have the tightest sibling bond, vincule that the war only strengthened, reason why he was full of guilt. Unexpectedly, the mixing of grief and guilt was manifesting in very atypical ways.

Anger, blind rage comparable with the outburst of Achilles as he dragged Hector's body in the way to the ships. The desire for vengeance was consuming him and he was displaying unrecognizable attitudes, the most obvious being a certain cruelty towards his recently arrived cousin. Briseis saw herself forced to tell him part of her truth because Paris was full of anger while assuming that she lost her position as priestess of Apollo after being raped by Achilles. For him it was hitting rock bottom and he was ready to get himself killed trying to hunt him down and make him pay.

The truth destroyed him even more. It wouldn't matter how many times Helen would try to help him understand, to make him come to reason, reminding him of their own love story and how it was the indirect cause for the horrible situation in which Briseis found herself trapped with no one to trust. He felt backstabbed, too full of pain to see the actions of his cousin as anything else but blatant treason. He wasn't going to divulge it, but his subtle harshness towards her was a warning letting her know that he wasn't going to forgive her easily.

The royal family was falling apart and the incredible change of its merriest member was an evident sign of that. Paris, who used to be the one who was always there to provide the comforting company of a naive optimist, became the grimmest presence of the palace. Helen was feeling her own pain duplicated with his, seeing the man she loved so devastated was killing her as excruciatingly as the loss itself. Many times over the days without him she revisited in her mind the memory of that night, ríght at the beginning of the war, when Hector stopped her from handling herself back to Menelaus.

His sweet reassurance made her desist and that reminder would make her wonder why didn't she follow that very same instinct at the moment of their last goodbye.

She could have ran after him, gotten herself in the way and offered Achilles the head of the snake. For Patroclus, for Ajax and for all the other dead companions in that war. It would have been about giving herself as an expiation sacrifice, saving Hector's life and offering a compensation to the rageful myrmidon. Instead of his body, he could have taken her head as a prize and matter of cheer for everyone in the camp.

That didn't happen, because it was her fate to keep suffering. Dying would have been easier than surviving to witness the falling of her dearest friend and the emotional downfall of everyone she ever loved.

A quick look confirmed to her that Paris was in the yard paralel to their bedchamber engaging in an obsessive archery practice, the scene repeated itself every night since that day. Far behind them were the nights where they would be each other's shelter, Paris seeked to self isolate and she began to wonder if he was going to start hating her as well. ' This is about power, not love', Hector would have corrected her, but he wasn't there to do it and it was hard to tell where the situation would lead them.

The best way of dealing with the guilt, she found out thanks to him, was being for other people the kind of support that he used to be for her. It used to be her coping mechanism until she made it her form of honoring his memory, hoping to make him proud by assuming for others the role he had in her life. All the family accepted her comfort in different ways, The only one who didn't seek any consolations was precisely her husband and she couldn't stand it anymore. Abandoning their talamus with diligence, Helen approached him with the usual loveful ways she always had for him.

" My love, it's getting late. Please, come back to bed. " She sweetly begged him, not finding any immediate response. He was too focused on the target as he prepared to shoot another arrow.

She waited until he accomplished it to try again.

" You knew him better than me... Do you sincerely think that this is what he would have wanted?" She confronted him, a slight change of approach made out of desperation. " Briseis begged Achilles in every possible way not to do exactly what you are doing ríght now, but that stubborn prick wouldn't listen to her. Apparently, i'm now as powerless as her. Is that what you want, Paris? To become one with your enemy?"

" I have no choice. I owe this to my brother. He saved my life and ended up having to give his for me later. '' Was the concise reply she finally obtained from him.

Paris remained still, not plucking out any more arrows to continue his practice but refusing to look at her directly. Helen was able to read him very well, he was waiting for her words.

He wouldn't ask for comfort that time, but he secretly craved it.

" Think carefully about your brother then. '' Helen prepared her counterargument. " Hector lost Tecton on the very same day the war started and that man was like a brother to him. Best friends of many years, literal brothers in arms who survived countless battles together. The death that Achilles gave him, a spear thrown at him from an impossible distance that was pure meaningless bragging, didn't even give him the chance of fighting back one last time before falling. The most honorable way to die in battle is the one on one combat and Tecton was denied from that, you may guess how hurtful this was for Hector. "

" ... He described the same scene for weeks, I must have heard the whole story at least four times. "

" Do you remember then what was your brother's reaction. " Helen continued, guiding him through the tread of her narration. " Anything but this. He lost his friend in the morning and by night he was here being the support of us all, not locking himself in destructive dreams of vengeance. I could have been for him what Briseis is for you now, he would have had all the ríght of blame it on the betrayal that brought me here. I once wanted to assume the responsibility, but Hector stopped me from going back to the ships and getting myself killed out of guilt. "

The impulsive confession was something that she wouldn't have wished to spit like that, but she was running out of resources. Speaking from the bottom of her heart, she appealed to her most sacred memory of Hector and the revelation made Paris drop the bow out of shock.

" Can't you see then why I need to be strong?" He replied, his voice tone indicating that he was about to break.

" This isn't strength. What stands giving his back to me is a broken man who confuses pain with rage and thinks that vengeance is going to bring him peace. " She corrected him in the same way she imagined Hector would, keeping him alive with them through her exhortations. " Real strength is what Hector taught me that night. His heart carried the pain of the falling of Tecton and even afterwards he kept losing every single day, feeling the death of every trojan with an intensity we couldn't match because we didn't fight alongside them. Hector, more than anyone else here, had all the ríght to abandon himself to destructive feelings and he didn't do that because he knew that it would have been the doom of the city. Doing exactly what your brother fought so hard to avoid would get you nothing, only allowing the rage of Achilles to win as you carry it in your heart. Don't carry your enemy with you, keep the love of your brother alive in you and let Hector be the guide of your actions."

Paris turned back to face her as she was finishing to speak. The combination of her heartfelt speech and the sight of her overwhelmed him, making the repressed emotions come to the surface. Falling down to his knees in front of her, he cried embracing her hips and hidding his face on her lap like a helpless child. Helen contained her own flow of tears and silently caressed his hair, allowing him to release his pain properly.

That was her Paris. He was acting as himself again, ignoring for once the pressure he had put on himself about living his grief in a way he would consider proper of a stronger man.

" I failed him!" He began to vent. " He is gone because of me, i got my brother killed."

" No, please, don't. " She softly cutted him off. " I know it's hard not to think you did. It also happens to me, but when those thoughts cross my mind I try to remember what he said to me... If he wouldn't blame any of us, why must we blame ourselves? Stop thinking on that: he didn't die blaming you. I promise you, he didn't. "

He raised his head for an instant in order to look at her.

" I can't carry on without him, I feel like if half of me was ripped apart and everytime i think of him i feel myself dying a little more." He explained. " No one understands it, he meant so much to me and i'm not sure if he knew it. "

" He did, love, and the whole city got proof of what you meant to him. You, Hector and me, we knew the truth that some citizens of Troy refuse to see out of hate. He performed the most dishonest act in his life to save yours and to set me free. Your brother loved us, maybe that's why some god that loves Agamemnon got him killed to avenge Menelaus. I guess Achilles became a tool of my old brother in law after all, despite how much he would protest against him. "

" There is no fate on this world that could punish Achilles fittingly for what he has done to my brother." Paris followed her, deviating his glance to keep crying. " The body of the lad remained intact for the funerals and so did Menelaus's, because Hector was ten times the man that souless bastard will never be!"

" That's the man you have to be. Follow his example, make him proud. " She concluded for him as she helped him to stand up to later cup his cheeks in order to clean his tears. " Talk with your father.. and with Briseis. They can tell you some details about the suffering of Achilles. His choices have isolated him and now he has to go throught the same pain you are facing, but being completely alone."

For the first time in days, Paris smiled again and Helen ended up dragging him for a kiss that felt like an insuflation of life for him.

" I don't know what I would do without you. " He said to her afterwards. " Your love is the brightest light of my life. "

" Yours brought me back to life. " She replicated. " With you i began to live again and i'm sorry that it had to happen on the expense of so many other lives. However, if i'm still standing, it has to be a purpose. "

" Making Hector proud and keep loving you are my purposes." He affirmed, with determination. " Maybe i should speak with Briseis, I must congrat her if she is making his killer suffer. If living without her is as hard for Achilles as living without you would be for me, then my revenge has just began and she unleashed it."

" He has lost everything what makes you strong. " Helen followed him on the way of expressing a personal opinion that she thought could also be comforting for him. " Patroclus died caring for his people, he died as a defender and such actions seem proper of a noble heart. That lad had the selflessness of Hector, I can assure you that the brutality displayed in his name wouldn't have make him proud. Achilles insulted the memory of his cousin, who died with the same righteous spirit of your brother in his heart. He can no longer claim to have honored him with his actions and he lost the woman he loves in the process. For honor and love, my darling, you have lifefull purposes while he has nothing left. "

No more words were needed. Paris picked his things and held her hand to go back to their talamus, where he layed with her allowing himself to be held in her arms in hopes of loosing himself on her love for the rest of the night.

#troy 2004 #troy (2004)#troy #troy fanfiction #troy 2004 fanfiction #helen of troy #paris of troy #hector of troy #helen x paris #diane kruger #orlando bloom #eric bana

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hutchhitched · 3 years ago

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My thoughts on Fresh under the cut. Major spoilers below.

Well, that was fascinating. Very cool experience to be able to partake in a Sundance Festival, and I’m really thrilled it was opened up to the public via the web. Equally glad I tracked down my firestick remote so I could cast it to my TV instead of watching on my laptop.

As always, I’m incredibly impressed with Sebastian Stan and his ability to melt into a role. I’ve watched enough of his work and enough of his interviews that I can tell when he’s acting like himself and when he’s acting like a character, and I love the movies that let him do both. It was fun to watch him be charming, funny, sweet, and seductive as well as his over-the-top dance/butchering scenes. And then the ending with his fury… I continue to be impressed with everything he does.

I enjoy social commentaries, and this one didn’t disappoint in that way. I’m not a horror movie fan, so I wasn’t thrilled about watching something creepy in the middle of the night. The sacrifices I make to watch Sebastian Stan be a talented hottie…

Full disclosure: I’m 45 and single, and I absolutely refuse to do the online dating thing. As such, I don’t date much at all. It’s a long story that isn’t interesting enough to bother explaining, but this movie doesn’t make me regret being standoffish about meeting strangers online (at least as far as dating is concerned. I’ve thrown caution to the wind when it comes to fandom.). I had one successful face to face date during my last online dating stint, and it was lackluster and not worth remembering. I’ll take that over what happened in this movie. I know the meet-cute in this movie is a grocery store, but still…

The first date in the movie is with a character named Chad, who’s a real winner. The exchange is awkward and smacks of everything wrong with men’s reaction to being “friend zoned.” Chad’s response to Noa when she suggests things aren’t going to work out makes me worried for every woman who dates Chad after her. He gives off big “I’ve got a gun and will go after you when I snap” vibes.

Coming off that and an unsolicited dick pic, Noa heads to the grocery store and meets Steve, a charming, hot, and awkward man. He asks for her number, she gives it to him, and then he says he won’t call her, but he’ll want to. When he doesn’t, she’s bummed so when he does finally contact her, she’s ready for him. Cue whirlwind romance, sex on the first date, and a way too quick “let’s go away together,” and she finds herself chained to the wall in a dungeon.

Daisy Edgar Jones does a wonderful job portraying the horror and hopelessness of finding herself in that situation, and Sebastian is diabolical as he calmly explains to her what’s going on and incapacitates her. Brilliantly done.

Noa’s best friend is suspicious and tries to reach Noa via text message. They have a code to end their relationships, and when their conversation doesn’t go as planned, she realizes something’s happened to Noa. My best friend and I had a code word when I was going to grad school. If one of us texted the other the word, we were supposed to contact the other and make sure to get whichever one of us was in a bad situation out of it. I could identify with this part of the movie, just as I could with a number of the other dating tropes—He’s got a family? He’s married? Do I really have to have my keys between my fingers in case that person behind me is trying to attack me? Should I trust this drink?

The wife… The scene at the end when Molly (Mollie?) beats Steve’s wife to death with a shovel and blames her for why things are the way they are was fantastic. There’s a special place in hell for women who help men take advantage of other women (think Jeffrey Epstein’s friend who was just convicted recently), and I loved that scene. I’m very curious whether or not she lost her leg before she married Steve or if she was one of his early victims with whom he fell in love. If so, it would make sense that she’s pissed about finding his phone in the box when she gets to his house.

The bartender getting the hell out of there when the shooting started was hilarious. I loved every second of that.

Other random thoughts because it’s 4:20 am, and this is starting to not make any sense.

The way Noa appealed to Steve was brilliant. The way Sebastian and Daisy played that allowed for the audience to see Steve’s loneliness as he negotiates a world in which he can’t share one of his great loves with anyone else. (Sick but kinda sad.)

Love the dance scenes and the subtle movements. There’s something super sexy about understated dance moves. I have a story about that, but it’s not important to the movie.

Sebastian’s scene when he gets to overact (the first butchering scene) is fabulous and so him.

Biting off his dick is awesome. Go Noa. How very karma of her.

There’s a lot to be said about women supporting other women. I have more thoughts about it, especially since Noa does some eating of other women, but I’m going to let that percolate for a while.

Taking off her ass? Really? That’s weird.

This is very stream of consciousness, but I’ll end with this. The movie reminded me of Get Out and is a social commentary on the pitfalls and perils of modern dating. For that reason, I enjoyed it. Sebastian Stan continues to be an amazing actor and gorgeous. If he turned his charm on me, I’d be on the floor.

(My apologies for any typos. I’m tired, and I’ll edit tomorrow.)

#sebastian stan #daisy edgar jones #fresh #sundance #fresh spoilers

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acnelli · 3 years ago

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First Time Falling

This is my entry for the @hpqueerfest 2021. Thanks to the mods who hosted this! And a big thank you to my great beta-readers @nagemeikenu and @static-abyss who put up with my phone-writery (writing time is hard to come by these days).

This story was inspired by Prelude and Fugue by shes_gone, and it’s set in a world where Harry didn’t go to Hogwarts, but had been prepared for his destiny.

Pairing: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley Rating: T TW: strong language, mentions of war time, mentions of drug and alcohol consume Prompt: Falling in love for the first time as an adult (late 20’s-early 30’s) Summary: Harry Potter –Head-Auror and Savior of the Wizarding World– spontaneously asked out a cute redhead and it turned to so much more than he could have ever hoped for.

You can also read this on AO3 and FFN.

*** *** *** *** ***

Not bothering to knock, Ron Weasley marched into Hermione Granger’s office. The heavy mahogany door slammed against the wall, making Hermione jump up from her chair.

“Ron,” she shrieked as a bunch of paper fell off her desk. “What happened?”

Instead of providing his best friend with an explanation for his sudden intrusion, Ron paced back and forth. The panicked look in his eyes made Hermione assume the worst.

With one swift motion, Hermione stepped in front of the redhead, forcing him to stop his frantic pacing. “Ron, please talk to me,” she pleaded, taking his hand into hers. “What’s going on? Is someone hurt? Is your family okay?”

Hermione’s worried expression and the panic in her voice finally brought Ron to his senses. “No, don’t worry, Hermione,” he sighed as he closed her office door. “I’m sorry! But...do you have time for a quick cup of tea in the cafeteria?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. This report is giving me a headache and I need a break.”

Hermione grabbed her purse and gestured for Ron to lead the way.

“I swear, Ron, if you almost gave me a heart attack over something Quidditch related, I’ll hex you into next week and make your new Firebolt disappear forever,” Hermione added as they made their way down to the Ministry cafeteria.

Ron glanced over at the bushy-haired witch, suppressing a grin as he told her his distress was indeed about Quidditch. They grabbed their beverages and headed towards a free table. Gracing him with a dark look, Hermione gestured for Ron to finally tell her what’s going on.

“Harry Potter asked me out on a date!”

This statement caused Hermione’s drink to go down the wrong way, resulting in a violent coughing fit and her spitting out the tea.

“What?” she wheezed out between coughs, as Ron cleaned his face and shirt with his wand.

He waited patiently until Hermione recovered, both from the coughing fit and the shock. “See, even you don’t believe me,” Ron sighed, harshly rubbing his hands over his face, “I don’t blame you, though. I can’t believe it myself, after all.”

Finally being able to speak again, Hermione put her elbows on the small table and leaned forward, determined to not miss a single thing about this story. “Spill! How? When? Where? And don’t you dare to leave out even the smallest detail.”

Ron shook his head, still in disbelief about what had happened to him just twenty minutes ago. Not being able to wrap his head around it, he decided to tell Hermione today’s events from beginning to end.

“Today, Robertson sent me a memo to come to his office to discuss the ridiculous complaints about the Tornados/Harpies game last week,” Ron started and couldn’t help rolling his eyes about the things he had to put up with at work sometimes. “So, I went there, gave him my report about the match and a brief overview. Thank Merlin, he only asked his usual useless questions about referee bribery claims. I was ready to launch into a whole speech but he suddenly dismissed me and told me to write up a statement for the press.

“I was just on my way back to my office when I met Seamus. The fucking wanker had the nerve to claim the next Cannons match for himself. I know he did that just to spite me so, naturally, I gave him an ear full about it as we waited for the lift. We only noticed Harry Potter standing right behind us when we got inside the lift. I probably sounded like an idiot but Seamus and I kept the conversation up because I always get second-hand embarrassment when people stop talking if Potter walks by or joins the lift.”

Hermione patiently listened to his ramblings, restraining herself from telling him to get to the point already.

Ron sipped on his tea and shook his head. “You know what? I read too much into this. Just realised that I’m acting exactly as everyone else does. What’s the big deal? Just a bloke who wants to have a pint after work.”

Hermione stared at Ron, expecting him to go on with his story, but he just kept sipping his tea.

“Ron!”

“What?”

“How did he ask you out?” She accidentally raised her voice but Hermione was finally losing her patience with him.

“I told you, he most likely-”

“Just tell me the damn story, already!” Hermione snapped, blushing a little when she noticed the people on the other tables giving her funny looks.

“Alright,” Ron said, raising an eyebrow at her. “Calm down, barmy woman.”

“You're the one marching into my office like a lunatic. Spill it! Now!”

With a heavy sigh, Ron continued with his story, curling his hands around the tea mug to keep from fidgeting.

“Seamus had already gotten off at another level, so it was just me and Potter in there. I tried to avoid the awkward silence, so I asked him if he followed Quidditch and was going to listen to or even watch the Tornados match tonight. He said that he does follow Quidditch and that he intended to listen to the match at home but if I'd be up to it, we could listen to it at this new pub that just opened in Diagon. He totally caught me by surprise, but I must've agreed because he told me he'll meet me at the fireplaces at 5. Then he left the lift. Then I freaked out and came to your office.”

Ron marked the end of his story by taking another sip of his tea before he defiantly crossed his arms in front of him.

“Jesus, Harry Potter actually asked you out! Oh my God!” Hermione almost squealed, grasping one of Ron's arms.

“Nah! I don't think so anymore. I bet he just wanted to have a pint and was only being polite when he asked me to come along,” Ron said. “Who'd ask someone out like that anyway?”

“Someone looking for a partner?”

“Yeah, but think about it, Hermione. Why would he ask me out? The guy is not only fucking famous, he's also devilishly handsome. He could have anyone he wanted.”

“So?”

Ron looked at Hermione as though she'd just declared the desire to live as a chicken.

“So? So, why would someone ask me out while on a random stroll through the Ministry? Who'd think ‘Oh, that freakishly tall ginger with more freckles than skin looks kinda awkwardly cute. Let's try to get a leg over?'"

“I dated you,” Hermione interjected.

“You don't count.”

“Well, thank you!” Her sarcasm was all but ignored by Ron.

“I just know I'll embarrass myself tonight,” Ron insisted, looking quite unhappy. “Let's go back to work. I still have to write that useless report.”

“Devilishly handsome, hm?”

“Shut up!”

**** **** **** ****

Harry didn't know what had possessed him to ask the cute ginger out for a pint.

Maybe it had been the Prophet article speculating for the umpteenth time about when the Savior of the Wizarding World would finally settle down and make some black-haired, green-eyed babies. Rita Skeeter had many ideas about what worthy witch could conquer the heart of Harry Potter. All things considered, the article had probably not been the worst thing written about him so far.

Sometimes he wondered if he should've taken Sirius’ advice to feed the press and public meaningless details of his life. It wouldn't stop the constant speculations and made-up affairs, but it probably would reduce the paparazzi following him around, the crazy fans sending him love letters and maybe, they would find something more newsworthy than where Harry Potter bought his toilet paper.

But he hated the fact that people demanded this from him. He was 29 now, and while the great hype about him was over, he still seemed to be interesting enough to write about, even over a decade after his defeat of Voldemort.

He knew the majority of the Wizarding World was sincerely grateful for what he'd done. There were so many parents thanking him for the simple fact that they're still alive and able to see their children grow up.

It reminded him that it was all worth it. The sacrifices, the nearly friendless childhood, his secret life away from the public, the growing up with the knowledge that he might not live long enough to celebrate his 17th birthday. All of that had resulted in ending Voldemort once and for all.

When he'd destroyed the Dark Lord and his Horcruxes though, Harry’s hope of finally living a normal life got crushed soon after. In the post-war world, it had been next to impossible to lead a life like everyone else. Because of his childhood and his training by Alastor ‘Mad Eye’ Moody himself, he learned not to trust easily. And since occasions to make friends or interact with strangers had been few and far between, he never really learned what to look for in a friend.

He was well aware that he was complaining about a comfortable life. His parents had left him a respectable amount of gold, and Sirius bought him a flat in London after he graduated from Auror Academy. Maybe he'd gotten this job because of his fame and reputation, but he knew he deserved the position as Head Auror. There was hardly anyone with the same amount of training and experience he brought to the table, and he was under the impression the people working for him did genuinely like him as a boss. Two of them he even considered friends after all these years.

Aside from the two friends at work he also had his family. He had Sirius, Remus, Andromeda, Tonks and his godson, Teddy. He wasn't alone by any means, but he'd never met someone he could possibly fall in love with. Hell, aside from one of Tonks’ old friends from school and her father's attempts to set him up with several of his countless nieces—and later nephews when Harry told his family girls didn't do it for him—he'd never even dated. Toby—a fellow student from elementary school and the only friend his age—dragged him to Muggle pubs and clubs, resulting in the occasional snog or even a shag with a stranger. Needless to say, his first time hadn't exactly been romance novel material and it sure wasn't something he liked to think about. Sometimes, Harry feared that he would never fall in love, that he wasn't capable of developing those feelings for another person.

Those unpleasant thoughts combined with the Rita Skeeter article may have been the result of his sudden impulse to just go for it and ask the redhead out. But it also could have been the brilliant blue eyes, the kind, shy smile and the lean shoulders. Harry was sure, though, that the main reason for it had been the fact that this man hadn't treated him like a Messiah. It had just been an easy conversation, even if it had been only two minutes.

Harry hoped it would remain that way when they watched the game later. In fact, he could just brush it off as a friendly meeting with a fellow Ministry worker if Cute Ginger wasn't interested in anything more.

But when he thought about the redhead’s lopsided grin, Harry felt a foreign flutter in his stomach and he couldn't help but hope for more, even if it was just another visit to the pub.

**** **** **** ****

In the 30 years of Ron Weasley’s existence, he'd never been on time for something not work-related. Today, though, he was almost ten minutes early as he waited by the fireplaces for Harry Potter.

Again, he felt rather pathetic. For a hot second, he considered waiting in a nearby bathroom to pass the time, pretending to get to their meeting place just in time. But then he reminded himself that he wasn’t a petty teenager anymore, and even if Potter found it pathetic, Ron didn’t expect a repeat of tonight, anyway.

He decided to just treat this like a meet-up with Dean and Seamus every other Thursday after work. Just two guys, enjoying a couple of pints together, talking about Quidditch. Nothing special. Nothing to freak out over.

The atrium was busy as ever but he spotted Potter right away when the Head-Auror stepped out of the lift and made his way towards the fireplaces. He still wore his magenta work robes and Ron couldn't help but notice how sexy they looked on him.

“Hi!” Potter greeted Ron, smiling somewhat shyly. “Ready for some beer and Quidditch?”

“Sure! But I forgot to introduce myself earlier, so I figured I'd do that now,” Ron said, giving the dark haired man a smile in return, as he offered his hand for a proper introduction. “I'm Ron. Ron Weasley.”

“I'm Harry.”

**** **** **** ****

“No way! How did he get out of there?”

Harry barked out a laugh at Ron's tale of a night out with Seamus and Dean. His outburst was loud enough for the other guests of the pub to look in their direction. Ron found it amusing how a simple change into Muggle clothes, different glasses, and a slightly lighter hair colour resulted in no one recognizing the Boy-Who-Lived.

“Since it was a Muggle police station, Seamus had to spend the night there. Statute of Secrecy, and all. We picked him up the next morning and filled him in on what he'd done the night before, including showing everyone his pale arse.” Ron grinned deviously at the memory. “I invented some things for good measure. Unfortunately, Dean is too good for this world and told him a few hours later that I was taking the mickey.”

Harry shook his head, chuckling. “That reminds me of Remus searching the whole of London for Sirius, only to find him several hours later in a hidden spot on the roof. He was gazing at the stars and totally stoned. Combined with Firewhiskey, he didn't remember a single thing from that night.”

“Sirius?” Ron looked quite interested at the mention of his Godfather’s name. “Sirius, as in Sirius Black?”

“Yes. He was my Dad’s best friend. And he's my Godfather.”

“I'm just asking because I'm related to the Blacks. My grandfather married Cedrella Black.”

“Yes, I recognize the name. Her face got blasted off the family tree,” Harry said, and at Ron's raised eyebrow quickly added, “Sirius’ mother blasted everyone off that tree who didn't uphold the Black family's motto ‘Toujours pur’. So, Cedrella must have gone against the high and mighty Black Pureblood tradition.”

“Well,” Ron said, taking a swig of his beer, “she married a Weasley. I'm sure that alone was reason enough to disown her. The Weasleys have been notorious blood traitors since forever.”

“Sounds like your grandmother had good taste in men if you ask me.”

Harry winked at Ron, and the redhead felt the burning blush creeping up his neck.

Ron was once again amazed at how little time it had taken him to lose his nervousness. But Harry Potter made it very easy for him. Harry was confident, yet humble and polite. His humor didn't have Ron's sarcastic edge, but the redhead found Harry delightfully witty with a good amount of sass.

Ron didn't know what he expected but it was undeniable how easy it was to talk to Harry. He could only hope the raven-haired man enjoyed this just as much as he did. Harry laughed at his jokes and seemed genuinely interested in Ron's more-than-mundane life.

As much as Ron tried to see this as a meeting with a good friend, he couldn't help the warm feeling in his chest every time Harry smiled at him or his leg accidentally bumped against Ron's. And if the alcohol hadn't gone to his head already, making him imagine things, Harry's eyes kept flitting down to Ron's lips.

When the woman behind the bar announced the final round, they decided to call it a night since it was one of Harry's work Saturdays tomorrow.

As they ventured out of the crowded pub and into the cool night air, Ron was disappointed about the evening coming to an end. Time had flown and he was sure they could've talked for several more hours.

“Would you mind if I walk you home?” Harry asked just as Ron wanted to wish him a good night.

Ron nodded, not being able to suppress his smile as Harry obviously remembered him mentioning that he only lived a few blocks away.

They kept their pace slow and walked a little closer to each other than necessary, their hands bumping against one another. Every touch sent a jolt through Ron's body and he wanted nothing more than to take Harry's hand.

Eventually, they reached their destination. During the entire walk home Ron had gathered all of his Gryffindor courage to ask Harry out, this time for an official date.

“I- um,” Ron started, rubbing one hand against the back of his neck to ease his nerves. “I really enjoyed this evening and I was wondering...Maybe I got this all wrong, but you seem interested, and well, I'm interested too. And if you're not, that's totally fine. But...caniseeyouagain?”

And before Ron's face had the time to go completely crimson, he got his answer as Harry took his hand to pull him close, leaned up and kissed him.

Harry pulled back from Ron's lips, his stunning, green eyes slightly darker than usual and holding a hopeful glint.

Ron didn't give himself the chance to overthink as he put his hand on the back of Harry's neck and kissed him again. A deep groan escaped him when Harry licked at Ron's bottom lip and Harry took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside.

Ron was positive that he'd never experienced something more incredible than kissing Harry Potter. The only things he was capable of paying attention to were Harry and the wild thumping of his heart. And while it was exhilarating and new and positively made him weak in the knees, it also felt a lot like coming home.

Having lost all sense of time, Ron couldn't tell if they'd kissed for a minute or several hours when they broke apart. Harry's hands still gripped his shirt and Ron let his own hands glide from Harry's dark hair down over strong, well-defined shoulders to finally rest at his hips.

Both of them tried to catch their breath and Harry, who finally let go of Ron's shirt to put his arms around him, smiled up at Ron almost shyly.

“Yes, you can see me again,” Harry said, grinning.”What are your plans for tomorrow night?”

“Well,” Ron pretended to think about it for a second, “I thought I'd do this.”

And with that, he leaned in to kiss Harry again.

“I think that's a brilliant idea.”

**** **** **** ****

Just as he turned off the radio and grabbed his coat from the rag beside the door, a loud knock sounded through Harry's now quiet flat.

“Ten minutes early. Eager, aren't we?” Harry said as he opened the door for a tall ginger with a picnic basket in one hand and a broom in the other.

“Says the one waiting right beside the door like a good dog.”

Ron shoved his way inside, putting down the basket and broom before pulling Harry into his arms.

“Happy Birthday,” Ron murmured against the other man's lips. “And I thought I was supposed to give you a present, not the other way around?”

Harry pulled back a little, apparently confused. Ron grinned at him and squeezed Harry's arse. “Thanks for wearing my favourite pants today.”

Chuckling, Harry pointed at the broom Ron had brought with him. “No way I'll fly on a broom in these. Good thing I also packed my joggers.”

Ron hadn't told him where they were going for Harry's Birthday. He'd just instructed Harry to be ready at 9 in the morning, so they'd be back in time for dinner at Grimmauld Place with Harry's family.

Only two months had passed since their first kiss, but Harry already felt as though he'd known Ron for much longer. Every kiss, every touch, all the teasing and banter, and late night talks felt so completely natural, yet blissfully exciting.

“Come on, grab your broom. We're on a tight schedule.”

Ron winked at him and before Harry knew it, they were standing in the middle of a giant Quidditch pitch.

There wasn't a single soul besides them, but Harry immediately recognized the giant Hogwarts House banners from his family's keepsakes of their school years. Aside from that fateful day when he'd fought Voldemort on those grounds, he'd never visited the school. Not before, not after.

Harry tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. The surprise must be the result of one of their late night talks, when Harry confessed that his deepest desire while growing up had been to go to Hogwarts.

“Are we allowed to be here or do I need to arrest you for breaking into school grounds?”

Arms wrapped around him from behind and Harry could feel Ron smiling against the back of his head. “I wouldn't be opposed to playing the big bad Auror and the naughty Suspect later, but this is actually 100% legal. Having contacts with important Quidditch officials has its perks sometimes. And my annual chess game against McGonagall helped too, I suppose.”

“Okay then,” Harry said, lifting one of Ron's hands to his mouth to brush his lips against his knuckles. “Fill me in on that plan of yours.”

Ron let go of him and reached for their brooms, tossing one of them at Harry. “I thought we'd fly over the grounds first, so I can show you everything from above. The castle looks fucking amazing from up there and the Great Lake is a sight to die for when the water reflects the sun.”

Ron mounted his broom and flew in slow circles around Harry as he continued to talk. “I hope you don't mind that I invited your family for dinner. But I thought we could all show you the castle, introduce you to our favourite spots and secret places. Andromeda can show us the Slytherin common room. I've never been there myself. I'll show you the kitchen first. That's where I'll cook dinner later while the others show you around.”

Jumping down from his broom, Ron looked at Harry with a mixture of excitement and reluctance as he rubbed the back of his neck. It was a telltale sign of the redhead being nervous, Harry had learned in the last weeks.

“So, I thought this to be fitting for a 30th Birthday. I wasn't sure what to get you that you don't already have, and I reckoned this might be fun.”

Harry didn't know what to say and his silence only made Ron doubt his plan more. It always baffled Harry how Ron didn't realize how wonderful he was. He wished Ron could see himself through Harry's eyes.

Right at that moment, as Harry looked into Ron's blue eyes, it hit him. In fact, he knew he'd been harbouring these feelings inside him for weeks now, but only now he could see it with shining clarity.

He was falling in love.

The feeling was new, something he'd never experienced, but still he recognized it for what it was.

Love.

***

#hpqueerfest #mine #my stories #my fanfics #rarry #rarry fanfic #rarry fanfiction #hp #hp fanfic #harron #ronarry #harry potter #ron weasley #harry x ron #ron x harry #ron and harry #harry and ron #ron/harry #harry/ron

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sevensistersofsussex · 3 years ago

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Elena Gilbert: Favorite Fight Scene

Elena Gilbert v Katherine Pierce

Anytime these two face off is exciting and this scene really shows how alike in nature they are even while their vastly different experiences molded them.

Doppelganger Nature

I am highly entertained that Katherine refers to Elena as her shadow self when...that's exactly what she is too. It's the level of self-involved she shows here that Elena is also known for among the fandom. Katherine sees herself as the original even with the truth that she isn't.

Katherine believes that Elena has been "getting all of her luck" lately. I'd always wondered why their relationship was so contentious from the beginning (outside of Stefan). Katherine's first instinct is to sacrifice Elena for her own life. Not because Klaus caught her and she's in immediate danger, but to just live more freely. I just wondered why she wouldn't be more endeared to her ancestor, a girl who shares her same doomed fate.

The rule of the show is that nature demands balance. With the existence of two doppelgangers at the same time, would it naturally favor one over the other? Did Katherine feel something different in her life the moment Elena was born and chalk it up to several bad days before she began to get paranoid about it? What if there was truth in Elena "getting all her luck"?

Katherine and Elena fight the same. They are brutal, cruel, taunting. They both headbutt (Katherine here and Elena with Caroline) and both use emotional jabs to elicit a reckless emotional reaction from their opponent to get them to do something stupid (Again, Katherine here and Elena with Caroline).

Doppelganger Nurture

And yet they had such drastically different lives. Simply, Katherine did not have a support system while Elena does. And that really matters here.

Katherine and Elena both fight to win, but their definition of winning is always drastically different. Katherine's definition of winning is herself, anything that benefits her. Elena's definition of winning is more flexible and often comes at the expense of her own well-being. If her support systems are safe, she is willing to risk her own life. Her definition of winning casts a wider net. Katherine's is more insulated. Elena is a shield, protecting herself and others where Katherine is armor, protecting herself.

And these experiences of self-sacrifice have taught Elena one essential lesson: How to win from a losing position.

Katherine has her hand wrapped around Elena's heart, ready to rip it out and end her. And that's the moment Elena wins the fight, when Katherine is too distracted in her triumph to notice Elena go for the cure. And it's too late, she's shoved the cure down Katherine's throat and wins.

They are the same person raised in different circumstances. It's just such a shame that Katherine couldn't love her shadow self more even though the share the same "Petrova fire".

Honorable Mention: Elena Gilbert v Caroline Forbes

Look, I love a simple scene that begins with a confident statement and ends with the characters dismantling that statement.

"Don't make me fight you, Elena. I'm stronger than you and I don't want to hurt you." - Caroline Forbes

Elena then proceeds to nearly kill Caroline. She headbutted her! I forgot that she was such a bruiser in this scene. Just the absolute brutal combo of jamming the branch into Caroline's stomach, kicking her knees out from under her, then reaching back for the branch to stake her from behind.

And then Caroline's face when she realizes how close Elena came to actually killing her if the Salvatores hadn't saved her.

It's such a quick, but ruthless fight that reminds you: Elena is a fighter.

#elena gilbert #egaw2021 #favorite fight #katherine pierce #caroline forbes #elena gilbert meta

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sytortuga · 3 years ago

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Final sacrifice (Chapter 11)

Din finally remembers what happened in Sorgan and Omera admits some truths that he may not be ready to handle! ^^

Posted on AO3 on the following link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38372269/chapters/97135575

Comments are always very appreciated! 😁

Final sacrifice

General synopsis: AU universe, in which removing your helmet is punished by death if the members of the covert esteem it so. Otherwise all canon compliant until E16 “The Rescue”, where Skywalker doesn’t show up but Din fights the Dark Troopers with the Darksaber. Din and Grogu, together, they find the covert, mostly as occurs in E5 of TBOBF. This fanfic takes off from where Din accepts Paz’s duel for the DarkSaber.

Relationships: Mando x Omera

Characters: Din Djarin, Grogu, Omera, Winta. Eventually Cara, Fennec, Boba Fett

Warnings: references to child abuse, violence against children, medical procedures, brain injury.

Link to chapter 10

Link to chapter 12

During the upcoming days, Din insisted on walking up and down the corridors of the palace. His leg muscles were still extremely weak, and would often fail him, causing him occasionally to fall or at least stumble. His shortness of breath didn’t help reassuring anyone, but he still insisted on exercising and he would spend as much time as he could on his feet.

Omera took it on herself to accompany him during his walks despite his various requests to be let wander on his own. He didn’t need to be physically supported, at least not continuously, and Omera made sure to help only when he risked falling. She knew he risked nothing within the walls of the palace, but she couldn’t get herself to leave him be alone. She kept wondering if his request of being left alone to exercise came more from the habit of being alone or a real wish of being on his own. The truth was, she didn’t have the courage to ask and decided to continue being present for him as long as he didn’t openly ask her to leave.

They would often walk in silence, each comfortable within their own thoughts. But whenever they exchanged some words, always about some mundane thing, Din’s expression would soften, abandoning for a brief moment the clear effort and pain that walking caused, and that lit up Omera’s heart each time.

After one of their walks, they came back to Din’s room to find the medical droid standing, clearly waiting for his patient.

-“Din Djarin”, it commenced. “A scan of your brain and heart is required to assess the progress of your recovery”.

Din lifted one eyebrow as if uncertain on how to react.

-“Proceed to lie down so I can initiate my assessment”.

After some hesitation and Omera’s encouragement he complied with the droid, which was quick to start scanning with a mediscan both his heart and head. Omera saw how Din remained stoically and with eyes closed during the process, and wondered if he was truly okay with the process or if it was just a coping mechanism to remain calm. After a couple of minutes, the droid gave its evaluation.

-“Your improvement is advancing at a much lower rhythm than expected. A third bacta session is recommended. I will show you to the bacta tank.”

-“That won’t be necessary”, stepped in Omera trying again to win him some droid-free time. “I will take him”.

Din nodded and they moved to the room holding the tank.

-“Get yourself ready and undress. I will go find the child in the meantime”.

Din looked at her questioningly, unsure as to why the child would need, or even want, to be present.

-“He’s been by your side at each session. Let him be here for you this time as well. I promise I will explain everything in due time.”

Before he could change his mind, Omera turned to the door determined to find Grogu.

---

When she came back, baby securely in her arms, Din was already in his black shorts and inside the tank, which was filling progressively with the bacta solution. He had just enough time to greet the kid by putting his hand on the tank’s window and put the regulator in his mouth before his face was covered with the liquid. Giving in to the treatment, after a brief moment he closed his eyes.

Omera recovered her position at the chair that she had installed next to the tank. After a while trying to keep the child moderately entertained with some lap playing, to Omera’s regret, Din’s nightmares were at rendez-vous. The child cooed sadly, but Omera saw the determination in his eyes, wanting nothing more than to help his buir once again. She offered him her hand and Grogu put his other hand on the tank’s window. As the kid closed his eyes, the room around her faded away.

Next thing she knew she was walking through the forest. She recognized those trees, she was in Sorgan. She was surprised to see the big blue Mandalorian walking casually next to her. She could see her own –Din’s– boots, progressing through the forest.

-“I know we haven’t had the best of relationships, but know I hate this as much as you do”, she heard the big Mandalorian say. After a brief silence, during which she could only focus on the sound of the dry leaves under the Mandalorians’ boots, the man continued.

-“My father… he didn’t hate you as much as you think, you know? He just…”

-“Save it, Vizsla” Omera clearly heard Din’s modulated voice interrupt the blue armored man. Vizsla, Omera thought. Wasn’t that the name she heard in the clans’ heads meeting? The one supposed to be in charge of rescuing Din as a child?

-“Let’s just get this over with” she heard Din continue.

Omera saw how they soon arrived at a clearing. To her horror, she realized it was where she had found the Mandalorian bleeding to death. The small ship the blue Mandalorian had left with was stationed in the middle. Her heart was racing. She couldn’t tell if it was Din’s or actually hers, knowing what she was about to witness. She needed to get out of there. She didn’t want to be there. Surely the child shouldn't be there. She thought that if she wished it strongly enough, she would somehow wake them up from the dream. But a presence was holding her tight, obliging her to stay.

-“Here we are”, the big man said.

She saw herself turn around to face the blue Mandalorian. After hearing a deep breath, she witnessed how Din stopped walking and slowly turned to face the other Mandalorian. After a brief moment, Din started removing with precision each of the pieces composing his armor, laying them in front of him with uttermost care and respect. Last came the helmet. Without the filter of the visor, her view changed dramatically, the intense light of the Sorgan sun nearly blinding her despite the trees. The colors were sharper, the greens of the leaves crisp and contrasting with the different shades of yellows and browns. Din sat on his heels in front of the big Mandalorian, and set helmet in front of him. He saw how the other man crouched as well, producing a glass in which he poured a transparent liquid.

-“Ceremonial Tihaar drinking, for purification”, the tall man said. “One sip for greed, three for hesitation” he said reverently.

Omera saw how Din’s gloved hands grabbed the glass.

-“One sip for greed”, he repeated while taking a sip from the glass. Omera felt how the drink burned it's way down Din's throat. “One for hesitation”, another sip. Omera saw that the other Mandalorian slightly tilted his head, probably astonished at Din changing what seemed the ritual's words. “One for the anger that has filled my heart over the years”, sip. “And one last one for the people I leave behind, that have seen past what I show to be and have seen me for who I really am”. And with that Din gulped down in one shot the remaining contents of his glass of Tihaar.

Omera felt Din grab something from his boot, and horrified, saw how he produced his vibroblade which he set respectfully in front of him with the now empty glass.

-“Grogu, lets please get out of here. Please, sweetheart, we need to stop now”, Omera said outloud. Or at least she thought she had said that outloud, but there was no sign that the nightmare was stopping or that they were getting out of Din’s head.

-“You broke the Creed, and willingly removed your helmet. The tribe has determined death to be your sentence” said the blue Mandalorian with a strong voice.

-“Through the Hokaanir epan, nobody except me is owner of my fate” she heard Din say. “I broke the Creed, removed my helmet. I did it for my foundling. It was The Way, the only Way to get him back from the hands of those who wished him bad”.

Omera, who was focusing through Din’s eyes on the vibroblade set in front of her, saw in the corner of her eyes Grogu’s small feet, approaching her. She knew that Grogu was not there at that moment, she was sure of that. He was interacting with Din through his nightmare. She saw the questioning look in the kid’s eyes. Did he really understand what was happening? She didn’t think so, and felt how he gently put his hand on one of Din’s thighs.

Omera saw Din’s hand grab the vibroblade.

-“Grogu! Please stop this. You have to stop right now, sweetheart” she told him. But she didn’t think her heard her. “GROGU! STOP! NOW!” she felt herself scream, but there was no reaction of the baby, who still looked up to Din questioningly.

She wanted so badly to close her eyes, avoid seeing the final sacrifice that this man was willing to undertake to honor the Creed he swore as a kid, while protecting the child he had learnt to love as his own.

And with one swift movement, Omera felt the sharp pain of the vibroblade sinking in the left side of Din's gut, and how it ripped through his abdomen all the way to the right side. Her gaze fell to her hands, Din’s hands, still holding the vibroblade lodged in the man’s gut.

She was able to look back at Grogu, now crying inconsolably while holding his arms high, as if he could have prevented what he just witnessed. She felt Din’s body tilting, losing balance despite sitting on his heels, and just as she was about to hit the ground, she found herself back in the back tank room.

Grogu was clearly in shock, eyes wide open, tears sliding down his tiny cheeks. The Mandalorian had woken up apparently at the same time they did, and was awake and thrashing uncontrollably within the tank, moving his right arm clearly fumbling for the button that would cancel the bacta session and release him from the tank. Before Omera could set down the baby to come and help Din, the bacta had already started to empty. Once she was sure that Grogu was safely on the floor, she helped the Mandalorian open the tank and get himself out. He was panting, having clear difficulty breathing. He sat on the edge of the tank trying to catch up his breath.

He saw Grogu, scared and slowly taking some steps backwards, away from his buir.

-“Hey kid”, he continued panting. “I’m sorry, I didn’t– I didn't mean to scare you. I was dreaming…”, he tried justifying. Omera doubted he knew that Grogu was aware of what he was dreaming about, rather what he was remembering.

Grogu’s expression changed from sadness and surprise to anger, and anger neither Omera or Din had seen before in the small child.

-“Pal?” he said questioningly, struggling to get up and approach the kid to reassure him.

To both Din and Omera's surprise, Grogu closed his eyes shut and with a sudden movement of one of his hands, used the force to send his father flying to the other side of the room. The Mandalorian's body hit the wall of the far end of the room with a loud thunk and he fell limply to the ground.

Before Omera could approach him, Grogu’s expression turned again to sadness, clearly regretting what he had just done. But just as the first of his new tears touched the ground, he turned around and started running for the door.

Omera run to the Mandalorian. She found him unconscious and unresponsive.

-“HELP!” she screamed.

She crouched next to the limp body of the man, which she took in her arms, rocking him gently while calling him, hoping that he would wake up before she could go and attend the baby.

-“HELP!” she screamed again when she got no response from Din.

The medical droid came in and, without requiring any further explanation, started to assess the man’s medical status.

-“Stay with him”, Omera ordered the droid. “I need to find the baby”.

---

Omera rushed out of the room and into the corridor, searching for the baby. She went back to their room, and saw Winta kneeling next to the bed.

-"Momma, the baby is under the bed, he's very upset, but he won't come out" Winta said worriedly.

-"It's okay, baby, you can come out now" said Omera sweetly while reaching out for him with her hand.

-"What happened, Momma?"

-"He got angry at the Mandalorian" she said, keeping things vague, with the sole purpose of protecting her own child. She actually didn't really have the time to think about what the child was feeling and what in particular triggered the anger he showed back in the room.

-"Grogu, sweetheart, come out with us" Omera tried again, reaching with her hand further under the bed. "We are both here for you, let's figure this out together, shall we?".

To her surprise, the child shyly reached for her hand and came out from under the bed. He was crying, and Omera and Winta both took him in a big hug. And for the first time, unlike the previous times when he cried in silence, she heard him actually sob.

—

Omera and the kids stayed like that, sitting on the floor, comforting Grogu until he calmed down. Winta would softly talk to him about the things Boba and Fennec had been telling her about life in Tatooine. Omera melted at the empathy that her daughter was showing, she felt her heart fill with pride, sure that Winta would grow to be a sweet yet strong beautiful woman. Unless, she couldn't help herself think, the galaxy's ruthlessness caught up with her. The thought made her shiver. She thought of how Din's life as a kid must have been before being taken by the Mandalorians. Did his parents think the same things she thought about Winta? A child, with a kind heart, one that she knew clearly remained though having to adapt to the culture and traditions of a cruel warrior culture.

A knock on the door interrupted her train of thought.

-"Come in" she said gently.

To her surprise, Din opened the door.

-"Din!" She said surprised. This caused Winta and Grogu to stop interacting and turn their gaze to the door.

-"Mind if I come in?"

Grogu shifted in Omera's lap, and she saw how the baby's expression lost all the appeasement he had gained, turning again to a mixture of sadness and anger.

-"Of course" she said out of politeness, keeping her gaze fixed on the child, trying her best to reassure him with gentle strokes on his back. Whatever was going on in the baby's head, he needed to sort it out with his father.

The Mandalorian approached them and knelt beside them.

Omera realized he had a dressing gauze on the back of his head, probably as a result of the incident with the child.

-"How are you feeling?"

-"It's not important," he said, keeping his gaze fixed on the child who was doing everything possible to not look his father in the eye. For a while they all remained silent.

-"How are you, pal?"

The kid, still in Omera's arms, kept his gaze away.

-"I remember now. Going to Sorgan". He started, sitting more comfortably next to the woman and children. "I remember… you showed me through the force what you wanted us to do together" he said with the shyest of smiles. "You think you can tell me in the same way what is going on?".

-"Come, Winta", said Omera. "Let's give them some space to talk".

She was about to get up, when the child grabbed her by one of her sleeves, imploring with his eyes for her to stay. Omera, surprised by the kid's reaction, looked at Din who responded with one single nod in approval. Omera still encouraged Winta to go look for Cara or Boba to see if she could be of any help to them. Winta, quickly understanding her mother's intentions, didn't fuss about it and left the room, which filled her mother again with pride.

The kid finally looked at his father, with angry tears filling his eyes. With no gentleness, he grabbed his father's hand. Din's eyes opened wide, letting Omera sense that he was being allowed to see what the kid wanted him to see.

-"You think I… don't love you? Why would you think that?"

Din's expression changed to one of pure sadness. He took a couple of seconds to continue concentrating on what the kid was showing him through the force. But what the kid showed Din, left him speechless, eyes and mouth big open.

-"How…?" He started, although clearly at a loss on how to continue. "Even I didn't remember what happened…How could you know…".

Din looked around him, confused, until his gaze fell on Omera's. Though he clearly wasn't expecting an explanation, especially not from her, she felt obliged to fill him in.

-"Each bacta session seemed to plague you with nightmares. During the first session you were truly out of it, trying to break your way out of the tank. The child… he seemed to be able to help. He was capable of somehow connecting with you in your dreams, calming you down." She took a small pause, letting the information sink in the Mandalorian's head. It was clear to her that all these new revelations were starting to be a bit overwhelming.

-"But what he saw in your dreams clearly upset him, he began to get scared to connect with you, but he wanted so badly to help you… get you through the bacta sessions. So he started taking me in your dreams as well, I guess to feel supported".

Din's breaths started to accelerate.

-"I… You didn't…" he kept trying to say something between breaths that was never managed to say. Closing his eyes, with his right open hand he made a circle movement over his heart. Omera wondered if that meant anything in sign language. But before she could ask him about it, the Mandalorian got up and left the room.

#omera #mandomera #my writing #final sacrifice #the mandalorian fanfiction

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smaidjor · 3 years ago

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and i pay for my place by the ring (Chapter 2)

This chapter took me so fucking long but after much struggle I have completed it!

It was supposed to be 3-4k words. It was exactly 6069 pre-editing according to google docs.

You're welcome.

Chapter Title: with your blessing i will go

Chapter Wordcount: 6073

Content warnings: suicidal thoughts, self-esteem issues, discussion of death, non-graphic injury.

AO3

Chapter 1

i know they're losing (companion fic)

Actual fic under the cut:

The next few weeks are miserable, and if Scott tried to claim anything else, he would absolutely be lying to himself. Not that he doesn’t already do that, but he’s not too proud to admit that not seeing Jimmy is torturous. He knows he can’t, he’s firmly placed Jimmy on the off-limits list, but that doesn’t make the self-imposed rule any easier to follow. There’s still a part of him that wants to go running back to Jimmy’s arms, to beg for forgiveness and pray that Jimmy’s warmth is enough to curb the chill in his bones.

Scott shoves that part of him down firmly. He has no time to hesitate or regret, and he will not spend his days pining and sighing over a human. (Or so he tells himself.) He will be the perfect model of an elven king if that’s what it takes to gain his people’s respect, and he will make his parents proud, not that they’re around to see it. He will . Because Scott may not care about what the Council of Elders thinks of him- he hasn’t for twenty years now- but he does care that the people of Rivendell get a leader who cares for their wellbeing. It’s the least he can do, really.

So he takes on the meetings and the paperwork and the aching, gaping hole in his chest with grim determination, ignoring the way his hands always seem to shake a little and he can never quite get warm. It’s fine. Scott is fine. He’s not going to think about golden smiles or warm brown eyes or the look on Jimmy’s face when Scott told him it was over. He’s fine .

Flipping through the stack of official mail he’s received, Scott’s startled when his hand falls on an elegant cream envelope stamped with the crest of the Ocean Empire. How long has this been here? He hurries to get it open, nearly slicing himself on the letter opener in the process.

Out slides an official invitation in neat cursive.

To High King Scott Dangthatsalongname Smajor, Lord King of the Rivendell Empire,

You are cordially invited to a royal ball to be held at the palace of Ocean Queen Lizzie Ldshadowlady, Queen of the Northern Waves and Reefs, at 8 pm on the fifth of August.

Formal attire is required.

RSVP as soon as possible.

At the bottom of it, there’s a note in slightly more rushed handwriting.

Smajor- elvenking or not, I will not appreciate it if you mess with Jimmy in any way, shape or form. This ball is to be a peaceful affair, and I will not hesitate to intervene should anything occur.

Lizzie

Scott winces. He...can’t say he doesn’t deserve the warning, any more than he can say that it doesn’t hurt to be warned away from his own husband. Ex-husband, he quickly reminds himself, reaching for stationary to pen a response.

Dear Ocean Queen Lizzie Ldshadowlady, Queen of the Northern Waves and Reefs,

He stops, giving it a bit of thought. Would avoiding Jimmy be worth the political consequences of refusing an invitation like this? No, he concedes reluctantly, it wouldn’t. He can always just avoid Jimmy at the ball- Lizzie would probably be happy for it, honestly. She’s been protective over him from the start. Scott puts the pen back to paper.

Luckily, I will be able to attend the ball. It sounds like a wonderful event and I eagerly anticipate it. As for your note, I will avoid antagonizing Jimmy as much as possible. I would hate to sacrifice diplomatic relations between our kingdoms for a petty squabble. Will that be satisfactory?

Sincerely,

High King Scott Dangthatsalongname Smajor

What’s going on between him and Jimmy is far more than a petty squabble, but Lizzie doesn’t need to know that. It’s fine. It’s not like he’s going to run into Jimmy anyways, right?

The day of the ball arrives, and Scott spends far too long choosing an outfit. He’s not vain, not usually, but...Jimmy will be there. You’re not supposed to want to impress him , Scott scolds himself, but that doesn’t stop him from wearing his nicest golden jewelry. The rest of his outfit is far more strategically planned- long skirts to hide how terrible his balance is when he’s near-constantly struggling to get a full breath into his lungs, gloves to keep his dance partners from questioning his cold hands.

The ball is already in full swing by the time he arrives, the trip from Rivendell taking longer than he thought it would. He’s still greeted by the Ocean Queen herself, though, gliding over in her stunning ballgown of blue and green.

“Welcome!” Her smile is bright, warm in a way he almost envies.

Scott dips his head just enough to be respectful but not so much as to truly defer to her. He thinks that’s right, anyways; he hasn’t had to think about that particular part of etiquette lessons in some twenty years. “Thank you, Queen Lizzie. I apologize for my lateness, the trip was a bit harrowing.”

“No problem at all, I just hope you enjoy the ball!” Lizzie’s smile gains a sharper edge. “I appreciated your letter, by the way. Thank you for your promise to keep it civil, King Smajor. Now we just all have to follow through on our words!” She accompanies that bit with a little laugh, but Scott’s not a fool enough to take it as anything but a warning. She doesn’t want trouble at her ball, and who would, really?

“Hopefully we can manage at least that,” he offers wryly, earning another laugh and a bright “Hopefully!”

Scott doesn’t mean to cause trouble at the ball, he really doesn’t. But before he has a chance to even get a look around, Jimmy’s standing in front of him. And oh, this really isn’t how he hoped it’d go.

“Lord Codfather,” Scott greets, swallowing the lump in his throat. Jimmy cleans up nicely- really nicely- but Scott’s eyes keep going to the scar on his throat, the permanent reminder of how fragile and mortal Jimmy really is.

“Elvenking,” Jimmy says. The formality sounds awkward in his bright voice, and Scott wants to kiss the uncertainty right off his face. “Care for a dance?”

He can’t- he should, Scott knows. There would be value to an alliance with Jimmy, and he has no good reason to turn him down. That’s not why he says yes, though. It’s that look in Jimmy’s eyes, the hope poorly disguised by indifference. He’s so optimistic. Scott shouldn't encourage it, but he can’t find it in himself to break that fragile hope just yet.

“I suppose I wouldn’t mind,” Scott says finally. He takes Jimmy’s outstretched hand in his own gloved one; Vilya rests on Jimmy’s finger, still, and it’s a battle to keep the memories of giving Jimmy that ring at bay. He wins that battle, though, letting Jimmy put a hand on his waist as they start into a simple waltz.

Jimmy is a terrible dancer, and Scott knows it. He steps on Scott’s feet, he gets off-rhythm- he’s frankly not made for dancing, much as the way he hums along to the tune is adorable. His hair, which was probably once nicely styled, has already fallen out of place, and his tunic is a little wrinkled. His hands are rough, tough from all the work he does with them, and his face has a tiny bit of mud on it that he must have missed when getting ready. He looks very much like a sweet little swamp boy, out of place in the midst of all the more elegant and powerful rulers.

He’s the most beautiful thing Scott’s ever seen.

Unlike the last time they danced, back in 3rd life where Jimmy leaned on Scott for balance as he tried to learn the complicated steps, this time it’s Scott clinging to Jimmy for stability. He feels bad about how harsh his grip gets, but he can’t afford to show weakness. He has to stay on his feet.

Scott’s silently thankful when the dance ends and he can lead them off the dance floor. He’s exhausted and shaky, and he’s not sure how much longer he can be around Jimmy without breaking down or doing something very stupid.

“Thank you for the dance, Codfather,” Scott says. He takes a step back, banishing the lingering emotion of their dance.

A beat of silence, and then.

“Can we please stop acting like we don’t know each other?” Jimmy demands, earning a ripple of gasps from nearby guests.

“What else do you want from me?” Scott snaps back, anger rising to fill the gap in his chest.

“I- something! Anything! Just acknowledge that I exist, won’t you?”

Scott swallows down the lump in his throat. “Acknowledging you exist doesn’t mean I can still be in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” Jimmy says. He sounds so bitter, so tired. “I know , trust me. I just want you to stop- to stop hurting yourself to try and avoid pain!”

“That’s not what I’m do-”

Jimmy cuts him off, a rare occurrence. “Then what are you doing? Enlighten me, o wise elf! You told me it would destroy you to lose me, but you’re losing me now by pushing me away!”

His chest tightens, and he can barely force the words out. “I’m trying to do what’s best for the both of us, Jimmy.”

“No you’re-”

It’s Scott’s turn to cut him off. “I am an elf, and I cannot love a mortal. Humans are quick flames, burning and changing quickly. You’ll fall in love again, and you’ll forget me.” It hurts, but it’s true. There will be a mortal who loves you- I’m sure there are many already.” Jimmy’s so wonderful, there are bound to be others who see it.

“But I don’t want a mortal,” Jimmy says. It’s almost childish, but his next words still break Scott’s heart. “I want you. ”

“You can’t have me.” Scott is vividly aware of the fact that there are eyes on him, that their little spat has attracted the attention of the rest of the ballroom.

“But why? Why, Scott?” Jimmy’s voice breaks, and the crack in it is damn near enough to make Scott lose his tiny bit of remaining self-control. “You said you loved me, you promised me all the time we’d be able to- to carve out, to steal from the universe.” It sounds like an accusation, and maybe it is. Scott did promise him that, after all, and then he went back on it.

It wasn’t for no reason, though. He needs Jimmy to understand that it was for a reason. “I can’t give you that!” He snaps back, and his hands tremble when they try to form fists by his side. “You’ll live sixty more years, maybe, a fraction of my life, a blink of an eye to an elf, and I can’t even give you that long! Not when I have to be the elvenking before anything else. Nothing I can do will ever be enough for you.” It’s bitter, but it’s true. Scott can’t be enough for anyone, in the end.

“Enough for me? For ME?”Jimmy’s voice rises in outrage. “All I want is for you not to die to your own dumb plan and acknowledge my existence once in a while!”

Scott’s voice rises in response. “And all I want is for you to realize I can’t love you again!”

“Why can’t you care about me?”

“Why can’t you move on?”

“You’re not moving on, you’re just trying to forget!” Jimmy shouts.

Scott falls silent, breathing hard as the ballroom goes quiet around them. He spots Lizzie sweeping through the crowd, coming to a stop next to Jimmy.

“Is everything alright, boys?” She’s smiling, but it’s strained, and her eyes promise death if this quarrel was Scott’s fault.

“My apologies, Ocean Queen,” he says, and he tries to gather his composure as he dips his head to her. “Everything is alright, but I am afraid I will have to leave early.” He doesn’t look at Jimmy.

She smiles again, dangerous this time. “No need to worry, Lord Smajor. Do try to avoid picking fights with my allies, next time, though.”

“It won’t happen again,” he promises, and he only nearly stumbles when he turns to leave.

Distantly, he can hear Jimmy shout after him. “Coward!” The word is harsh, but there’s hurt beneath it. “You’re a coward, Scott!”

Scott stumbles away all the quicker.

He keeps composed all the way out the doors and most of the way down the stairs until he’s sure no one can see him from the ballroom. It’s only then that he breaks into a run, lifting up his stupid skirts so he doesn’t fall. One shoe falls off, a twisted parody of a children’s fairy tale, and he doesn’t bother to retrieve it. The prismarine stabs at his exposed foot, but Scott doesn’t have the energy to care. Instead, he beats his wings, trying to get enough momentum for a good takeoff.

For a few precious moments, he gets off the ground, and then he remembers Jimmy’s face as he left, wingbeats stuttering with the sudden emotion, and tumbles back to the rough prismarine path. It hurts , it does, but it’s nothing on the pain in his chest. Nothing on the words still echoing in his head. Coward! You’re a coward, Scott!

Scott lays there for a moment, half-wondering if anyone’s coming after him. It’s unlikely, he knows, given how badly he messed things up. He tells himself that that’s a good thing, that he doesn’t want anyone to come looking. He doesn’t need them. He should be strong.

Before anyone has time to notice or be concerned, he’s forced himself back to his feet, starting the takeoff sequence all over again.

This time, he gets in the air with little difficulty, though he lists to the side as he favors his right wing, which took the brunt of the fall. It’s fine. He’s fine, he doesn’t need help.

If Scott believed in the elven gods anymore, he would thank them for the fact that he gets back to Rivendell at all. There are tears blurring his vision, and every part of his body aches, his chest most of all. His flight is shaky at best, outright dangerous at worst, crashing into trees and rocks and the ground multiple times. Each time, he barely picks himself back up before mobs arrive. Sometimes, he questions if he should at all. He’s as good as dead anyways. And yet, the tiny stubborn part of him that got him through 3rd life won’t let him just lay down and die. For some reason, even though he’s slept enough recently (he thinks, anyways), there are phantoms on him. They sense when their prey is sleep-deprived, Scott knows, and wonders if he’s just weak enough to seem that way to them.

By the time he crash-lands on the mountainside, it’s pushing two in the morning, and Scott is more dead than alive. Not that he hasn’t been for a while now, he thinks, and laughs aloud to himself, bitter.

The night watch give him strange looks, but both elves on guard duty obligingly dip their heads when he stumbles by. He barely musters the energy to nod back.

Finally he makes it back to his house, slamming his door behind him and burying his face in his hands. This is the right thing to do, why does it hurt so much? He already lost Jimmy once, why does it feel like he’s losing him all over again when he never really got him back in the first place?

Someone coughs lightly, breaking through his thoughts. The voice is familiar when they speak- one of his advisors. “Lord Smajor? Any major events we should know of at the ball?”

Cold. Calm. Scott knows this is the way of the elves- their royalty cannot dare be human. “The Codfather’s our enemy and the Ocean Queen probably hates us too.” He doesn’t bother trying to make himself sound calm and collected, pushing off the wall and stalking towards the stairs.

“What?” The advisor’s voice pitches up in shock. “What did you do?”

“None of your business.”

“You cannot have embarrassed the elven realm at the largest event of the year-”

“It wasn’t like I was fucking trying to,” He snaps.

A gasp. “Language.”

“Fuck off.”

They hurry after him, making to follow him up the stairs. “Lord Smajor-”

Scott turns to face them, taking in the shock and rage painted across their ancient face. “Leave me be.”

“Do not disrespect your elders,” the advisor scolds. “I remember when you were a child, you always were reckless, but this is a new level of disrespect! Why, Xornoth would never-”

“ Enough ,” he hisses. “Do not talk about my sibling.”

They freeze, a bit of genuine fear creeping onto their face. “My lord-”

“Get out of my house,” Scott snarls.

They wisely obey. Scott slumps against the banister as the surge of adrenaline abates, suddenly exhausted. He’s freezing, he realizes, a bone-deep chill that he doesn’t bother to pretend is from his trip home. Scott’s done lying to himself- he’s in pain, and he’s in love, but then again, those equate to roughly the same thing when all’s said and done. You can’t have heartbreak without love or love without heartbreak. (But oh how he wishes he could.)

Scott doesn’t get out of bed the next day, and no one dares try to force him. Varying members of Rivendell’s Council of Elders make a decent shot at trying to convince him, but all it takes is him fixing them with his dead-eyed stare to make them leave. The people of Rivendell are used to their ruler’s odd sleep schedule by now, brushing it off easily, and the empire itself is mostly functional without him. So instead of getting up and dealing with the corruption or making sure Rivendell’s stores are prepared for winter or any of the things he should be doing, Scott lays there in his own misery and thinks about Jimmy screaming that he’s a coward.

He’s right, that’s the worst part. Scott is a coward. He’s scared of Xornoth and the corruption and never, ever being enough, he’s scared of responsibility and his own mind, he’s scared of fading and dying alone, and- most of all- he’s absolutely terrified of how much he loves Jimmy.

His father warned him about fading, once, back before Scott was expected to carry a crown on his brow and the weight of a nation on his shoulders. He bounced Scott on his knee and told him that elven hearts are fragile, too fragile for how strongly they love. “Don’t fall too deep in love, son,” he said, and the words carried the weight of years of grief. “Don’t care too much about any one person, not if you want to live to be a legend of the ages. Doesn’t matter what kind of love it is, love can be lethal.”

Scott didn’t listen, of course- reckless, rebellious Scott, who never once listened to his elders, went and did the most dangerous thing an elf could do. He fell in love with a human.

And now he’s dying. Surely that gives him a pass to wallow in his own misery for a day or two. He’s been brave for so long, can’t he just rest a few moments? Just...just a few. He’ll just lay here a bit longer.

At that moment, the front door creaks open somewhere below him.

“My lord? Can I come up?” Someone calls from below. Their voice is also familiar- Gilnar. Gilnar’s a good captain of the guard. Dutiful, clever, and far more willing to respect him than most of Rivendell’s high ranking elves.

“If you’ve come to convince me to get up, it won’t work,” Scott calls back.

Gilnar’s head peeks over the railing a moment later. “Nope, not here for that. Just thought I’d check in, y’know?” The Sindarin words sound almost musical in their accent, rolling up and down with a unique sort of rhythm.

“Alright.”

“Are you okay, my lord?”

“No.” He’s done lying. “Leave me be.”

Gilnar shakes their head. “Sorry, my lord, can’t do that.”

“If you’re going to tell me my people need me, don’t waste your breath. I know .” Scott’s voice cracks on the last word, just a little.

“Not that either. But with all due respect, seems a little like you’re givin’ up on yourself just a bit, my lord.” They lean against the railing.

“What do you mean by that?”

They cough, a little awkwardly. “The soul-sickness. The fading.”

Scott’s mouth opens and closes, and he sputters. “How-”

“Trainin’ with the royal guard a few weeks back, your hands were freezin’ and your balance was off. You haven’t gotten up at a reasonable hour in weeks, and, well, with all due respect- I know what heartbreak looks like.”

He’s silent for a moment, utterly floored. “What do you mean by giving up?”

“Well, Lauriel and I were talkin’, and….your love’s still alive, isn’t he? The Codfather?”

“How did you-”

Gilnar flashes him a tiny grin. “He’s not subtle, and neither are you. Plus, he has Vilya.”

Deciding to shove that to the back of his mind for now, Scott sighs. “He’s a mortal, Gilnar. I’m not giving up anything that I won’t already lose in sixty years or so.”

“Luthien loved Beren, didn’t she?”

“I am not Luthien. I cannot sing so well that the gods grant me pardon.”

“And Idril loved Tuor.”

“I am not Idril. I cannot bring Jimmy to the Undying Lands.”

“Arwen still loved Aragorn.”

“I am not Arwen. I do not have the choice to give up my immortal life.”

Gilnar’s smile turns sad. “Caranthir still loved Haleth. And Celebrimbor loved Narvi just the same, didn’t he? The doomed love all the more fiercely, my lord.”

“The rest of the elves won’t be happy with me,” Scott points out.

“You think Thingol and Turgon and Elrond were happy when their daughters loved mortals? You think Luthien’s people didn’t scorn Beren at first?”

Scott doesn’t have any retort to that, and Gilnar hops up from their seat on the banister. “Well, I need to get back to my duties, my lord. Good luck with your swamp boy!”

They’re gone as soon as they arrive, and Scott stares up at the ceiling, his thoughts dragging him along a spiral of emotion.

“Coward! You’re a coward, Scott!”

Scott is a coward. He’s a liar and a coward. Nothing he does will ever be right.

“Don’t fall too deep in love, son.”

Scott did, though. Like the idiot he is, he fell in love with someone the universe didn’t want him to have.

“Caranthir still loved Haleth.”

He did. And he paid for it. Does it matter? Scott thinks that losing Jimmy might be a price worth paying for the joy of loving him.

“You cannot have embarrassed the elven realm at the largest event of the year-”

Scott didn’t mean to, but he still messed up and shouted at Jimmy. He’s a failure. Jimmy could do better. He deserves better.

“I don’t want a mortal. I want you .”

Jimmy’s so stupid. Stupid Codfather with his stupid bright eyes and stupid, stupid insistence on not giving up on someone he should never have loved to begin with. Scott loves him so much more than he could ever put into words.

“With all due respect, seems a little like you’re givin’ up on yourself just a bit, my lord.”

Jimmy deserves an apology. Scott won’t give up.

(Not on Jimmy, anyways.)

It takes him nearly a month of furious work to make the precious mithril bracelet, refining it over and over again. He picks the flowers and their meanings carefully- love, hope, protection- and the crystals too. Amethysts for protection, carefully traded for filled with any bit of magic he can spare for them. The lettering carved into the underside is yet another layer of blessings and meaning; he does it in Quenya, the Tengwar script, which Scott knows Jimmy can’t read. He has to look up how to write in it after so many years of never so much as looking at elven script, pouring over old books by candlelight. By day, he rules an empire, relying on the rush of adrenaline and motivation to carry him through even on the days when he’s swaying on his feet by the end. By night, he works on a courtship project like none he’s made before until at last, at nearly three in the morning one night, it’s finished.

It’s not the most beautiful it could have been. Scott isn’t one of the great Noldor smiths of old, he’s just an elf in love. His hands are perpetually shaky nowadays, and he has limited time to work on it between every other responsibility in his life. But every centimeter of it is handmade with all the care he could muster, and that has to count for something.

Scott hardly wants to wait to give it to Jimmy, but he forces himself to try and wait for morning. His anxiety doesn’t let him sleep much, exhausted as he is, but he curls up under the covers and stares at the bracelet on his nightstand. He doesn’t want to take his eyes off it, half-convinced it will vanish if he does. Eventually, his eyes slide shut of their own will, carrying him into an uneasy sleep.

He wakes up long after the sun's risen, staggering out of bed and throwing on a cloak for the journey to Jimmy’s. The cold that he’s been banishing with the warmth of a forge has returned tenfold, and he’s shivering despite elves normally being resistant to chills. When he takes a glance at himself in the mirror, he finds that his hair is out of place, there’s a streak of ink across his cheek, and the dark circles under his eyes look like bruises. He looks a mess, and he doesn’t care. Jimmy is all that matters now.

The journey’s both long and rough, and his landing in the swamp is more like a frantic swan dive out of the sky. Luckily, though, the ground is soft here, and Scott’s able to pick himself up and hurry for Jimmy’s house, ignoring the stares of a few Codland citizens. He knocks, heart in his throat as he waits for the door to open.

The hinges squeak, and suddenly Jimmy’s standing there, a mix of emotions that Scott doesn’t even want to try and comprehend scattered across his face. He looks a little sleepy despite the fact that it must be near noon, and so very sweet with his hair falling in his face. The sight of him knocks the air right out of Scott’s lungs, and he has to struggle to remember why he’s here again for a long moment as they stare at each other.

“Hi,” Scott says weakly.

“Scott? What- why are you here?” Jimmy sounds outraged, and Scott can’t blame him.

Scott swallows hard. “I came to apologize.” His tired brain scrambles for words, something, anything to convey how truly sorry he is. “I was scared- I am scared. I’m terrified to lose you again. But I shouldn’t have pushed you away and hurt you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have!” Jimmy snaps.

“I know.” God, he didn’t expect it to hurt this much to hear the rage in Jimmy’s voice. “I- uh- fuck.” Scott fumbles to get the box he put the bracelet in, holding it out. “I brought a gift as an apology.”

Jimmy’s silent for a long moment, examining the bracelet. Scott barely dares breathe as he turns it over and over in his hands, tracing the flower designs with his fingertips. “Did you make this yourself?”

“Mhm. I did my best, but it’s not as nice as I’d like.” And, well, isn’t that just the story of his life?

“It’s pretty,” Jimmy says. He sounds genuine.

Scott lets out a breath, letting some of the tension go. “It’s spelled, too. Protection, good fortune, that sort of thing.”

“Do the flowers mean something?”

“They do.”

Jimmy doesn’t press for details.

“I-” Scott starts, and then pauses. What does he say? An apology would be a start, maybe. “I’m sorry, Jimmy, I really am. I won’t ask you to forgive me, but I needed to apologize before my time ran out.” It’s the truth, as wholly as he can bear to give it.

“Is it that- that dire?” Jimmy’s voice shakes a little, and Scott gives a tiny nod.

“This is what I chose to do with it. Making that, coming here. You deserved an apology.”

Jimmy goes quiet again. His eyes are still on the bracelet, and Scott can hardly breathe again.

Finally, he can’t take the tension. “It wouldn’t be fair of me to ask you to love me. I can’t promise you eternity. I can’t promise you happiness. I can’t promise you that I won’t have to be the elvenking first and a husband second. But I am still yours-” he’s always been, really- “if you’ll have me.”

The silence that falls after that is even more stifling than the previous two. Scott doesn’t expect Jimmy to want him back- far from it. He’s putting his heart in Jimmy’s hands, but he doesn’t expect anything other than it shattering on the floor. Maybe Jimmy will be kind enough to let him down gently, but Scott’s fragile enough that it would only take a tiny nudge to break him. And yet he can’t stop the tiny bit of hope that blooms, though it dwindles minute by minute as Jimmy stares and stares. Finally, he opens his mouth to make his apologies again and leave to his frozen, icy empire-

And then there are hands in his hair and lips on his, warm and sudden and bold. Scott gives a little startled gasp, which is swallowed up by Jimmy’s kiss. Their noses knock together and Jimmy’s teeth click against his just a little in their haste, but Scott’s far too overwhelmed by the sudden rush of warmth to care.

When Jimmy finally pulls away, Scott’s left breathless, cheeks warm in a way no part of him has been since Jimmy died in 3rd life.

He barely pulls himself together enough to manage a wry little “So, I’ll take that as you want to stay married?”

“Of course I do! You absolute idiot!”

Jimmy sounds so startled and offended at the idea that he wouldn’t , Scott’s not sure whether to laugh or cry. “Just checking.”

Jimmy kisses him again in response, and who’s Scott to protest? No, he’s more than happy to let Jimmy pull him close and kiss away the lingering sorrow. When Jimmy pulls away this time, he’s left dizzy, half caught up in the euphoria of being loved, half terrified that this is only a cruel dream.

By the time Scott collects himself again, Jimmy’s holding out the bracelet to him. “Can you help me put this on?”

Scott can only nod, fumbling with the clasp a little. It’s not complicated, but his hands aren’t steady, and it takes him a moment to get it. Jimmy grabs his hands when he lets go, and he’s so warm that Scott can’t muster the energy to even question why.

“Come in and catch up with me?” Jimmy offers.

Scott nods again, and he can’t bear to let go of Jimmy’s hand when Jimmy turns to go inside.

They talk a lot, Jimmy more than Scott. Scott learns that Jimmy’s been picked on by other rulers (no surprise, but his blood still boils at the thought), and he shares minimal details about what he’s been up to. Jimmy doesn’t need to hear about Scott’s issues, he’s already dealing with enough.

Eventually, though, the sun is starting to set.

“I need to get home,” Scott says, though he has to force himself to. “You need sleep, not to stay up all night talking.” He goes to get up, and Jimmy immediately lunges, catching his sleeve.

“Don’t go! Please.” Jimmy sounds almost afraid, which instantly sets off alarm bells.

“Jimmy, darling, we both need to sleep,” Scott tells him, very patiently.

“We can sleep! I just….nevermind.”

Now the alarm bells are really going off in Scott’s head. He knows when his husband is hiding something serious, and Jimmy’s frantic tone isn’t helping his worry. “No, no. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jimmy claims.

Scott frowns at him lightly. “ Jimmy .”

That’s all it takes. “I don’t want to be alone!” Jimmy blurts. He’s blushing a little. “It’s just, I’ve been alone for a long time, and there’s this demon thing that keeps showing up, and I’ve only just got you back, I’m not ready to let you go, and-”

Oh, Jimmy . Scott holds up a hand in a ‘stop’ gesture. “Hold on. What was that about a demon?”

“There’s this demon creature that I keep seeing, and it’s really messing with me. It sounds like you, sometimes, but all distorted, and I can’t handle it! You know me, I’m not brave or smart or anything, I’m just Jimmy!” Jimmy’s voice pitches up with distress, and Scott’s heart aches for him.

“Alright,” he says, as gently as he can manage. “How about you come to Rivendell for the night, then? I can protect us both easier there.” More like, Aeor can protect them. Scott’s useless, even with Vilya.

Jimmy nods and takes Scott’s hand with a tiny little “Thank you.”

“Always,” Scott murmurs. It comes out softer than he means it to, though it’s the truth. He’ll always do whatever he can to protect Jimmy, which is why he asks “Do you still have the ring I gave you?”

“I do, I just… give me a moment to remember where I put it.”

“Good. It’s important.” Vilya is one of the most important parts of his heritage, actually, and his advisors would pitch a fit if they knew he had given it to a mortal. For once, he can’t bring himself to care what his advisors would think, though. Jimmy is important, more important than any piece of jewelry.

Jimmy follows Scott to Rivendell, and Scott can’t resist a proud smile when Jimmy praises the buildings. He takes Jimmy inside, lets him curl up under the warm covers, his head tucked against Scott’s chest, and it’s only once Jimmy’s asleep that Scott lets himself break. He’s so tired , so utterly exhausted from being brave for so long. Even now that his husband is curled up next to him, warm and solid and real, he can hardly believe that Jimmy actually wanted him back- wanted him at all, really. Scott doesn’t want to move for fear of waking up Jimmy, but luckily for him, he’s good at crying silently. That’s what he does, tears slipping down his face to wet the pillow below. Only the faintest whimper escapes his lips, a tiny broken noise that he’s embarrassed of even in this emotional state. And when another slips out, he buries his face in Jimmy’s hair and forces himself back into silence. He’s not going to cry over the best thing that’s ever happened to him, he isn’t , but he’s just so tired of being alone that being with someone else is almost painful in contrast; he’s so cold that the slightest touch of warmth feels burning.

Jimmy shifts in his sleep, mumbling something that sounds vaguely affectionate and pulling Scott closer, and Scott nearly chokes from the effort of restraining a sob. Gods, Jimmy . He could die like this, tucked in his husband’s arms, and he doesn’t think he’d regret it.

“I love you,” he whispers into the night. It comes out choked. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry, Jimmy, I’m so sorry.”

Jimmy mumbles something that sounds a lot like “I love you too”, and that’s what really breaks Scott. It’s a miracle Jimmy doesn’t wake up, really, with Scott’s quiet sobs shaking the mattress. He cries until he’s all out of tears, as silently as he can manage, and only then does he slip into a sound sleep.

#scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #flower husbands #empires smp #my writing

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solinarimoon · 3 years ago

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Little Sea - Part II

AN: This is Part II for my contribution to @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 followers challenge. Part I here. Congratulations once again on such a great milestone, Ana! Enjoy the conclusion of my reimagining of The Little Mermaid. More notes at the end of the story.

Warnings: Fluffy fluff, a bit more angst, hurt/comfort, non-canon or rather not exploring certain aspects of canon

My Masterlist

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Part II

When Alba woke the following morning, she was alone in the small hut. The door stood open and she could see a grey morning rising.

Slowly and carefully, she stood and walked outside only to be met with confusion.

The man, Sihtric’s hut was nestled amidst looming pines and a small clearing that overlooked the water. It was not too far from her own small hut on the beach below.

Alba wondered how she had not seen this man or passed by his home before. She had become quite familiar with the surrounding areas near her beach in the year she had been ashore.

The quick snap of a branch followed by footsteps startled her out of her thoughts.

Sihtric walked around the corner of the house carrying a bundle of firewood. He paused when he noticed Alba standing in the center of his clearing.

Noticing her confused expression, he cleared his throat as he continued his walk to place the pile of wood next to his door.

“We’re on the other side of the cliffs,” he offered. “You are familiar the side leading up from the beach. But I am on the other side. If you stand here,” he had walked to the edge of the clearing across from his house, “you can see down to your home and know where we are.”

He gestured through a break in the trees down along the beach. When Alba came to his side to look where he indicated, she could indeed see her own little home sitting so far off, between the rocks and crags along the sandy shore.

Still confused, Alba turned to look at him. She pointed to herself and then down to her home. Not getting her questions across, she squinted her eyes and huffed.

Then she pointed to Sihtric, then to her own eyes and quickly down towards the beach.

Realization dawned on Sihtric’s face and he shook his head sheepishly.

“No, no, I don’t watch you. Not really.” Alba starred so he continued, “It is a nice view from here. And it would be impossible to not notice you on the beach.”

Not knowing what else to do, Alba gave him a small smile before turning back to face the beach. She could still faintly hear the crash of the waves and see where the storm clouds from last night were still drifting slowly away offshore. She stayed standing there most of the morning, just watching as the tide rose along the beach.

Eventually, Sihtric came to stand beside her once more offering her a plate with some bread and cheese.

“I am sorry you lost him.”

Sihtric’s voice was quiet, with a deep reverberating hum. Alba allowed her head to drop and she turned walking over to sit down on a fallen log near the door to the hut. She nibbled lightly on the food, lost in thought over these new circumstances.

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Over the weeks that followed, Alba grew to trust the quiet, brooding man. She found her feet bringing her up the ridge and to his clearing often. And days when she did not come to him, he found his way to her. The pair grew quite comfortable with one another, fishing together, taking long walks, watching storms roll in along the beach. They would visit the market together as well when the need would arise.

And it surprised Alba to realize the deep affection she developed for the young man. He was quiet and calm. The silence that passed often for long periods of time was comfortable, never forced. And she could catch him staring at her often when he thought she would not be looking.

One evening, while sitting on the log outside Sihtric’s hut, it struck Alba. She knew that she should be nearing the time when she would be forced to return to the sea. Her year was sure to be almost up. But the most peculiar thing was not that she had lost track of the time, but that the pull to the ocean had dulled so much that she had been able to forget.

Sihtric, sitting next to her while sharpening a knife on a stone paused when he heard her sharp intake of breath.

“What is wrong?” he questioned putting down the knife.

Alba had turned to him and she searched his eyes frantically as she took his face between her hands.

He placed one of his hands atop hers, searching her face just as closely.

Slowly, Alba shifted herself closer to his side, bringing her face only inches apart from his. She felt him still, waiting for her to choose. To choose to lean forward. To choose the next move. To choose him. Alba’s heart beat thundered in her ears like the ferocious crash of the ocean.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and let her lips brush softly against his. Slowly she pressed further, deepening the kiss and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Sihtric’s hands slide around, encircling her waist and pulling her flush against him. And the crash of the ocean in her ears slowed to gentle lapping of waves against the sand.

Alba pulled her lips from his with a smile to stare into his eyes as she felt the words rise on her throat.

“I’ve found you,” she whispered, her voice lofting on the wind.

“You’re voice? I… why…” Sihtric stared in confusion at Alba but could not keep the smile that formed on his lips.

“It’s…” Alba stood up, taking Sihtric’s hands in hers as she stared down at him, “it’s a long story and one I don’t know if you’ll believe.”

Sihtric stood now, gently bringing his hands, still entwined with Alba’s to rest behind her back. Their faces were mere inches apart once more. He looked at her, taking in all of her features, his eyes glistening and bright.

“I have loved you since I first saw you watching the ocean from your beach. I will listen to whatever you wish to tell me,” he whispered before placing another gentle kiss on her lips, only to pull back one moment later with a grin, “but I would settle for you telling me your name first.”

Alba laughed and kissed him back before she answered, “Alba. My name is Alba.”

The pair spent the rest of the evening wrapped in each other’s embrace while Alba recounted her last year to him. She held nothing back, telling him the entire truth of her existence and of her love for Hvitserk.

Alba had always been the most curious of her sisters about the human world. So it didn’t surprise her or her sisters when she spied a young viking from the prow of his ship. He had looked so forlorn, so conflicted. Alba had spied him while he thought no one was watching, when people are their most true selves. And she had been smitten completely, racing along unseen beside his ship as it made it’s way home to Kattegat.

The enchantment was a complicated one. It required sacrifice and commitment of the most serious type. Alba’s sisters helped her to enact the magic involved. Forsaking her own voice, Alba would be able to walk among humans for one year. If she found true love in that year and that love was returned, she could remain human. But if she did not find love, then she would be pulled back to her life in the sea.

“When you found me on the cliffs during the storm,” Alba whispered, “I had lost all my hope.” She was lying between Sihtric’s legs, her chin resting on her hands that were folded across his abdomen. “Ivar had sent Hvitserk away to his death and I had to live with the knowledge that he had never loved me. I was ready to return to the sea, but I was not ready to live a long and lonely life feeling that loss. I wanted to go home And I wanted to find an end to my heartache.”

Alba paused, bringing a hand up to trace lazy circles along his abdomen. Sihtric ran his fingers gently through her long, blond hair, waiting patiently while she gathered her thoughts. Her breathing became stuttered and she quickly wiped a tear away from her cheek before continuing, “And Thora. After Ivar had her killed, I felt so responsible. I doubt there is anything I could have done, but he loved her and she was killed because of it. I know now, now that I know you, Sihtric,” she turned her eyes, brimming with tears to meet his, “I know that it was not love I had for Hvitserk. At least not true love or anything that would last. But I still mourn for him and for sweet Thora, who did have his love. And neither deserved their fates.”

Sihtric’s hand moved to wipe away her tears.

“It is good to mourn, Alba,” he said her name like it was honey on his tongue, “it is ok that you loved him and cared for her. Most people deserve to be remembered by someone after they’re gone. And being remembered for love is the most beautiful reason I can think of.”

The pair laid in comfortable silence for a while, before Sihtric cleared his throat, “you haven’t said yet.”

“Said what?” Alba peered at him questioningly.

“What brought your voice back to you?” Sihtric’s voice held a smile, as if he knew the unspoken answer.

Alba grinned up at him, “I thought that was obvious. I have found love and that love is returned. A part of my heart will always belong to the sea, but I no longer will yearn to return. I am home now.”

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Alba sat on the beach as the sun climbed higher in the sky. She watched as Sihtric cast the fishing net out over the waters. The rising sun casting glittering rays off the droplets that splashed as the net hit the water.

She did not turn when soft footsteps approached from behind her. She did not turn to meet his eye when he took a seat beside her, his knees drawn up and his hands clasped.

“I knew I would find you on the beach again, once I returned.” Alba thought his voice sounded different somehow. More somber. Pained.

“It is where you have always found me, Hvitserk” she replied, finally turning to greet him with a small smile.

Hvitserk stared back at her in shock, a grin slowly forming on his lips. “You found your voice, little Skór,” he rasped, incredulously.

Alba turned her attention back towards the water, smiling. “I did. And my name is,” she turned back to meet his gaze once more, “Alba.”

“Alba,” he rolled the word around on his tongue. “It is a good name,” he chuckled. But still Alba heard the pain behind his laugh. She wanted to tell him she was happy he was alive and well. She wanted to say she knew about the attacks on Kattegat and about his joining sides with his brother’s against Ivar. But those words died on her lips.

Instead, she reached out a hand to squeeze his arm, “I am sorry about Thora. I wish I could have done,” but Hvitserk broke off her words, raising a hand and shaking his head.

“There is nothing you could have done that would not have placed yourself into the same fate as Thora,” he turned to meet her eye, “but thank you, all the same.”

After a few minutes of sitting quietly, watching the waves roll in and listening to the splash of Sihtric’s net, Alba spoke again.

“I am also sorry about that night. The night you left. I should not have placed that burden on you. Knowing your love belonged to her. It was unfair of me.”

“You do not have anything to apologize for, little Sjór. But,” Hvitserk paused, glancing between Sihtric’s activities and Alba’s eyes watching him, “I sense now that something has changed. Tell me. Now that you have a voice to do so,” he added with another chuckle.

Alba tore her eyes away from Sihtric, who had turned to watch her and Hvitserk on the beach.

“I fell in love,” she said simply, smiling back at Sihtric before turning to meet Hvitserk’s gaze. “I loved you, Hvitserk, thought that I was in love with you. If nothing more than with the idea of you. But, it was not the same,” she turned back to stare at Sihtric wistfully before she continued. “My heart was made for Sihtric. And when my heart found him, I found my voice also.”

She turned back to see Hvitserk watching her, waiting for her to continue, sensing there was more. “And it was you and the Gods who brought me to him. It was fate that brought me to you. Even if it was not my fate to be yours. Or for you to be mine. So you have my gratitude, Hvitserk Ragnarson. And my friendship.”

Hvitserk nodded his head low, smirking before replying, “And I am glad to have it, Alba from the Sea.”

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AN: I grew up loving The Little Mermaid, but sitting down to write for it, I wanted to make it more about finding the right one instead of finding the first one. So still something fated, but less about first appearances. I hope I was able to keep both Sihtric and Hvitserk in character. And I hope you all enjoyed this little story.

Tagging my usuals. Please let me know if you wish to be added or removed from my tag list.

Tags: @maggiescarborough @pokeasleepingsmaug @nxrdist @mystic-shadows42 @emilyhufflepufftlk @magravenwrites @lauwrite1225 @morosemagick @thebohemianpenguin @mrsalwayswrite @notyourwildestdream @ecarroll1978 @93xdiagonxalley @nobodys-business-world @evelynshelby @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @trenko-heart @0hsappho

#cherry pie’s 500 #Vikings #Hvitserk #hvitserk x oc #Sihtric #sihtric x OC #the last kingdom #sihtric #fanfiction #vikings/the last kingdom crossover

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marabrosca · 3 years ago

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[REUPLOAD] - What You Seek Will Find You (Cullen x Lavellan)

a commission for @cullenvhenan with her OC immy

words: 3k

summary: Cullen reflects on his heart's desires, and comes to the one thing he wants the most. (Cullen’s pov fic and his falling in love with Imryll Lavellan)

tags: pining, soft, romance, kissing

warning: contains mentions of racism/colorism but is never directly said to any poc

Read it on AO3

It was uncomfortable to see a chantry half full, Cullen decided. He couldn’t remember a time where he and his family would attend a sermon, and be joined by only a dozen people. The chantry in his youth accommodated with every seat and then some, as many late arrivals would continue to listen to the Revered Mother’s litany whilst standing in the back by the front door. Having the room be so scarce, having so many pews be empty, made the ceremony feel far more serious and intimidating than intended.

It was here that Cullen would be fulfilling his dream of joining the Templar Order, taking his vows and swearing to protect Thedas at the behest of the Andraste Herself. He peered over at the towering statue of the prophet, Her pyre burning brightly but expanding no more light into the room than a few candles. He felt himself shrink into his armor, picking nervously at his embroidered skirt as Andraste’s stone eyes bore into him. It was a dull service he had to admit. A withered old chantry Sister recited the Chant Of Light in an almost monotone voice, pausing every few lines to include the sacred blessings given to those joining the Order.

Cullen had practiced his vows more times than he could count. There were formal promises to make, but they came strictly with a list. When he had been given the list, the scroll lay heavy in his hands. The gold ribbon around it had made it seem as resplendent as the Chantry’s interior, and no less important than the impression it made. Each Templar was to choose their own vows, their own honest promises to the Maker.

Everyone is different, and we are all here for different reasons. But now we join as one, and must do what is expected of us. Therefore, it is the responsibility of one who chooses to walk the path of sacrifice, to pave the road they walk on.

It was something that was repeated to him in the upcoming weeks of the ceremony. There were many ways, as it turned out, to prove one’s faithfulness to the Maker. There was fasting, sacrificing of material goods (not that Templars had many personal items to begin with), excessive prayer, public preaching, and at least ten other things that Cullen could remember. There was only one that gave him pause: chastity, and the detachment to romantic relations, even within marriage. Cullen felt weak for admitting it, but the idea of a future in solitude wasn’t exactly appealing. Not that it was supposed to be. The idea was that a Templar-to-be would set aside personal desire and focus solely on duty, devoting themselves entirely to their service.

But Cullen saw no reason why he couldn’t do both. A part of him, a part he hid from others, was enamored with the idea of marriage. He’d caught himself many times dreaming of the day his soul-mate would enter his life, accepting the promise to live in each other’s hearts. It was indulgent and juvenile, but he wondered if perhaps one day he’d be in chantry taking entirely different vows than the ones he would proclaim that day. As far as Cullen could see, there were no obstacles in finding someone who was Andrastian. They’d have to be, wouldn’t they? Followers of the chantry and the Maker filled every space in Ferelden, and certainly he wouldn’t be traveling far from Kinloch Hold after the ceremony. Frankly, there was no reason to worry.

The young man heard his name and he stood, almost too quickly, and shuffled out of the pew, making his way to the Revered Mother. She looked at him with a kind smile, and he bowed his head in response. The woman’s hand hovered above him, pausing.

“Have you prepared your promises to the Maker, accepting His blessing as a holy child and servant of Andraste?” “Yes.” He replied firmly, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

Decades had passed since that day, disappearing like a dream interrupted by daylight. At no point would Cullen expect anything he had experienced, or where he was now. Snow crunched under his boots as he surveyed twenty new recruits to the Inquisitor’s forces- the DalishInquisitor – yet they served just as devout to the chantry as he had once been. An uncomfortable, heavy force weighed on him at the thought; a reminder of his skewed mind from the past. It was a part of him he didn’t want to forget, so that he would never become that man again. He didn’t, however, want it to swallow him whole. That part was harder.

Two of the newest recruits, George and Elliott, were sent to fetch a requisition officer that had been surveying the Storm Coast for some time. The men seemed eager, and promising, and gave off an air of charisma that delivered a boost in morale. Soon enough they returned with the aforementioned officer. She was a tall, lanky elf with pale skin and large, striking emerald eyes. Her black hair fell to her mid-back, lips pink and puffy in the cold. Cullen greeted her politely, taking the missives from her hands as she smiled pleasantly at him. The officer followed Cullen to the desk planked beside the staircase extending from the ramparts. He didn’t miss the almost pungent smell of perfume on her, but made no comment. The commander settled the forms into a neat pile, getting ready to turn to his scouts, when he looked up and noticed that she was still standing there. He cleared his throat when she did not have anything to say. “Thank you, Deanna, for going out of your way.”

“No problem at all, Commander.” The elf smiled at him, folding her hands behind her back.

“Ah…was there something else you needed?” Deanna twirled a finger through a lock of hair, her cheeks turning pinker than before.

“Actually, I was wondering if you were busy tonight.” She replied, eyeing the desk quickly before settling her sights on his face. George and Elliott watched the sight, impressed with their Commander’s obliviousness to her body language.

“As it happens, I am very busy tonight,” Cullen answered, turning and handing the papers over to a scout without pause. “There is still much work to be done if Skyhold is to ever be inhabitable. And I fear the most difficult challenges are yet to come. Why? Does something require my attention?” Deanna’s smile sunk to her knees with her shoulders following suit. “Um, no, it was nothing. Thank for your time, Commander.” “And you, as well.” Cullen responded with a nod, watching the elf turn and make her way up the stairs.

As busy as the ex-Templar seemed to be, he had set some time aside that evening to have a walk down the ramparts with Inquisitor Imryll. Soon the easy stride had turned to a pause, then to a conversation, then to a kiss. It was clearly unplanned and unexpected- quite the opposite of how Cullen had always carried himself- but there was no doubt in the way Imryll held onto his back and caressed his hair, that she didn’t object to it.

Gossip spread like the Blight within Skyhold regarding the Inquisitor’s supposed “dalliance” with the Commander. A couple of messengers and guards that had been making their way by wasted no time sharing the tale of what they had witnessed, or exaggerating it.

“It was a sweep of passion! He grabbed her and they nearly dipped as if they were dancing!” “I wasn’t that close, so I couldn’t really tell, but Ser Rutherford appeared very harsh with our Lady Inquisitor. Do you think he treats all his women that way?” “She hypnotized him with blood magic, I swear!” The only things the tales had in common was that a kiss was involved, anything else could not be answered, much to the disappointment of the staff who were almost growing bored of the mundane. When the news reached Elliott, he was quick to share what he heard over a drink on the grass with George, who turned his nose up in disgust. “See that, I just don’t get.” “What’s not to get? You don’t know what a kiss is? Do you revolt women that much?” “No, smartass.” George took a swig from his flask before continuing. “I don’t get how someone would, ya know, go for an elf. Does he seem like the type? And that elf on top of it- what’s next, a Qunari?”

Elliott let out a cackling laugh, almost catching his lip between his browning teeth. “Not your type, eh?” “Not anybody’s type.” George tried to adjust himself on the ground, reaffirming his seat in the same spot once the dizziness ceased his actions. “At least you got- at least you got some lookers here, right? Like that one from before…that, uh, Deanna. Them ones with the big eyes and the curves and all- and have you ever seen an elf that was so dark?” “Not before the Inquisitor. Her eyes are black, did you notice? Do you think she’s blind?” “I thought all elves were ivory and lanky and- where did she even come from?” “Somewhere up north.” “Up north, bah.” George, not heeding the warning his body gave him before, took another large gulp. “If you asked me, I’d kiss an ogre any day before I’d even think about kissin’ her. She wouldn’t-”

Before he could finish his ramblings, a pair of hands grabbed them both from behind, lifting them by the collars and onto their feet. George almost vomited, feeling the searing burn shoot up his throat at the assault. Both men turned sharply to be met with the fiery eyes of their Commander. The men could feel their faces turn numb and a pulse beat in the back of their skulls. Elliott dropped his mug without thinking, licking his lips in an attempt to speak.

“Commander-”

“I don’t want to hear another word.” “But-” “Not. One. Word.” Cullen’s teeth stuck out starkly against his reddening face.

The recruits gulped, bugged-eyed as George swayed slightly from the alcohol. Cullen’s gaze locked onto the mug spilling yellow liquid onto the grass. “I see that your night of leisure has given you loose tongues.”

Cullen pondered what kind of punishment should bestow them. Perhaps they were to be bound and brought to the Inquisitor on her throne, and beg at her feet for mercy after confessing their crimes? The idea was enticing, but it was likely the display would embarrass Imryll, and he needn’t put more on her shoulders regarding her reputation. Besides, she hadn’t heard the words herself, so why hurt her feelings? No, that simply wouldn’t do. They needed to learn a lesson…a long-term lesson. Without warning Cullen grabbed them by the collar again and pushed them both face-first into the dirt. “You will clean this mess, and then pack your things. At dawn, you will be deployed to the Hissing Wastes, where you will remain until the hole in the sky is welded shut.” The Hissing Wastes was the most miserable landscape in Thedas Imryll had ventured to that he could think of. It was a constant scorching mass of dry air and sand, flipping the coin completely when all was frozen over at night. Only the most hardened travelers could tolerate its climate. It was a long-lasting punishment for a crime that could permanently scar having landed in Imryll’s ears.

Without another word Cullen turned on his heel and walked back to the fortress, ignoring the groaning coming from behind him. As he moved out of sight, Elliott wobbled down to pick his mug off the ground, and George let go of all the liquid courage in his stomach that had sealed their fates.

Days had passed since the new blood of the Inquisition seemingly vanished overnight, but Cullen’s hands still upturned into fists at the memory. He hadn’t been there when they were carted off, but it was reported right before that they wished to beg forgiveness. Cullen dismissed the messenger with a wave of his hand and went back to his business like he was the only one in the room. He scowled, eyeing the ground with intensity as not to scream, a look that caught the eye of the curly-haired elf standing across from him. She walked up to him before he could react, kissing the knot between his eyebrows. All at once he melted, tense muscles going loose for a brief moment as he looked up. Her smile was concerned, and he felt his face relaxing as not to worry her further. “Are you alright?” she asked, grazing the back of her fingers along the side of his face, leaving goose bumps in her wake.

“Yes…I’m fine.” He let out a breath, willing himself to calm down. His hand reached up to grasp hers, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. It made them both blush, and Imryll’s fingers curled in his grasp.

“I had been wondering this for a while,” she started, not pulling away from his hold.

“That day you kissed me on the battlements…how long had you wanted to do that?”

Cullen couldn’t help but let out a laugh, smiling despite the heat in his cheeks. Her tone wasn’t mischievous, merely curious. A part of him advised against telling her; it was unprofessional at the very least to admit that he had wanted his lips on hers not too long after meeting, before Skyhold, even. Despite not being the best of friends at the time, Cullen found himself gravitating towards her, and desired her approval for more than just reasons regarding their duty.

He smiled sheepishly before finally answering her query.

“Longer than I should admit.”

Springtime scarcely differed from winter when it came to living on a mountain. Everyone still wore furs up to their noses and the courtyard was rarely full. Merchant deliverers unloaded their cargo as quickly as they could before ducking into the tavern. Orlesian noblewomen paraded their flower-adorned shifts about, calling attention to their “eye to detail”, modeling their appearance after the Skyhold garden. This, in reality, was meant to turn attention away from their unseemly reddening noses each time they needed to lift their mask and cough into a handkerchief.

Despite this -and despite her own hatred for the cold- Imryll could still be found tending to her plants- the ones that would survive the elements. She frowned as she lifted a limp stem with her finger, disappointed she wouldn’t be able to expand her alchemy skills just yet. Vivienne had warned her it was too early to start studying potions that required foliage, but in an effort to impress her, Imryll had tried it anyway. And now she was thinking of a way to dispose of the dead roots without embarrassing herself.

The sound of familiar footsteps behind her turned her attention away from the frozen soil, lifting her mood in an instant. “There you are. I was worried you’d still be out here.” Cullen sighed.

“Oh, yes. I was seeing how things were going,” she replied, gesturing to the frozen soil “Don’t tell Vivienne.” Cullen chuckled and removed his cloak, draping it over her shoulders.

“You’ll catch cold out here.” His touched his forehead with hers, watching as she scrunched her nose at the tickle of the wind.

“Walk me back?” Imryll guided them the long way around, entwining her arm with Cullen’s. Halfway there her legs had “gone completely numb from the cold”, and their only solution was to duck into an archway that housed a small stone bench. The elf laid her cheek on the part of his armor still covered by cloth, and sighed as his fingers glided down her arm.

“Feeling better?” “Not yet,” she replied, moving ever closer into his arms. Cullen held her tighter, making the Inquisitor smile. Her soft, round cheek was squished up against his chest, and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing. The atmosphere was too serene to believe. The moon now overshadowed the sun, leaving the walkway empty aside from them. Imryll gazed out at the greenery that still grew around them. But Cullen’s eyes were transfixed on her. In these escaping moments of peace, he found himself wondering what he would do in the future. If she survived- when she survived the impending battle with Corypheus- what would he do? He had been only a child the last time he lead a normal life, even though nothing for him would be truly normal again. Would she go with him? Would she go back to her clan? His stomach coiled at the thought, as selfish as it was. He wouldn’t blame her for returning to her people when this was all over, but surly he could not join her. The Dalish didn’t welcome humans as passersby, let alone a human lover. What if she left him? Did she not feel as strongly about their relationship as he did? Would she have to choose?

And more importantly, how would he declare the choice he’s made?

He couldn’t imagine a life without her. Despite the hardships and horrors he’s endured, having Imryll walk out of his life would be the breaking point. His gaze solemnly drifted to the bare blackness of the sky, subconsciously tightening his grip on Imryll.

“Cullen? Is something wrong?” she asked, lifting her head.

“Oh- I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” “No…” the Inquisitor waited for an answer to her question.

“I think we should go back inside. I’m sure you’d be far more comfortable with warm tea in your bed, wouldn’t you say?” Imryll perked up at the thought and reluctantly sat up to stretch.

“Will you be joining me?” Imryll asked over her shoulder, half flirtatiously. “If my lady wishes so.” Cullen responded, chuckling and standing to join her on the walk back to her quarters.

“I do. But is that what you want?”

What I want… Without warning the commander hoisted her up into his arms, leaning his head down to kiss her lips. She let out a yelp before laughing, slapping lightly at his chest as he carried her through the garden. Wind brushed roughly against the pathway flowers, sending a few white petals into the air, catching onto Imryll’s curls. Their white littered the stone, creating an almost snowy effect as he walked. They went unnoticed by Imryll, who was too distracted reaching up to playfully peck at her lover’s chin.

What he wanted…

He knew now more than ever.

Imryll had taken some time to teach Cullen threads of Dalish before, but nothing like this.

“Sylaise enaste var aravel…”

The sound of her native tongue caressed his ears. Everything in that moment disappeared except for her; and although he couldn’t understand the words, he felt them in his heart. He wanted her promise to be true, and he trusted that it was.

“I swear unto the Maker and The Holy Andraste to love this woman the rest of my days.”

As the words left his lips, they connected with hers. Perhaps he should have waited until Mother Giselle made the official decree, but he couldn’t wait another moment.

The kiss ended with the faint tickle of Cullen’s breath against her lips. His nose stayed atop hers, soft chestnut eyes barely open beneath his lashes. It was their first kiss as a married couple, a term they could barely comprehend. Cullen sighed blissfully, capturing the moment in his mind down to every detail as the setting sun painted them in golden light, as if the world turned just for them. Imryll’s skin blended with the rays. Her eyes reflected, but were not illuminated by the shine, creating a stark clear surrounding of white around the onyx that seduced him so many times.

Imryll took but a single step before she was whisked off her feet. A surprised yelp quickly turned to giggles as her husband hoisted her into his arms in a true bridal-fashion. Mushy bounced excitedly at Cullen’s feet and wagged his tail, attempting to angle himself so that he could leap up to join Imryll.

“Blasted-get down! I can’t hold the both of you.”

Imryll laughed joyously, taking her lover’s face into her hands.

“How long have you wanted to do that?”

Cullen smiled down at her.

“Longer than I should admit.”

#cullen x lavellan #cullen rutherford #cullen x imryll #my fics #asian inquisitor #asian lavellan #reupload #i think the original post is still up on ela's blog but the search bar is trash :T #dai #Imryll Lavellan

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firerose · 3 years ago

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Dark-Seven part three - Jason

I apologize @reading0mens for the longtime it took me but I love Jiper angst sooo it got a bit long XD, feedback would be cool :)

- The day Gea was destroyed marked the end of the giant war

- But for Jason, it was the most horrible day of his life

- He wakes up in the infirmary without Leo and Piper

- They are dead Chiron tells him

- Leo gave his life to kill Gea and the eagles could not catch Piper on time

- Jason refuses to believe it until he runs out and sees her

- Her bloodied corpse, her lifeless eyes they will hunt him until the end of his life

- He wanted to grow old with her

-As he gently rocks her in his arms he tries to understand

- Why would Hera let her die after she screwed so much with her life already?

- Why would she let Leo sacrifice himself in such a violent way?

- He knows the truth deep in his heart

-As he watches Piper‘s body burn among the others he learns what real hate feels like

-It scares him

- He was supposed to be Hera‘s champion, a loyal soldier to the gods

- His pain gets worse when he is alone

- Percy and Annabeth leave Camp for school

- Hazel and Frank go back to Camp Jupiter

- He spends his time alone in his cabin living in the vision he saw when the gods came to help them

- Piper is alive whispering soft words to him that everything is going to be okay

- That he is a person instead of Hera‘s shallow Champion

- They even help him to continue his designs for the minor gods temples

- But soon his love for her turns to desire

- He knows that she is not really with him and who is responsible for it

- He does not want to sit around anymore doing exactly what Hera would want him to do

-“I…..I can‘t do this anymore Pipes.“, He tells her one night his body trembling in despair

-“Yes you can Jason! You are a hero that always stepped up to do what‘s needed.“ She says her words piercing into Jason‘s heart like her dagger

-To him, they feel like an accusation

- All of the sorrow and anger boils up in him

- He does not notice the wind around him growing stronger, or the thunder from outside

- He is tired of Hera, tired of being too perfect

- The papers are thrown across the room and he stands his body shaking with rage

- A yell of defiance leaves him and the storm sends lighting to hit the Cabin

- The Campers find Jason sitting still in smouldering remains

-His eyes are closed tears running down his cheeks but there is a smile on his face

- Invisible chains put on by Hera have just been broken

- Jason never felt more alive

-“I‘m done being their servant Chiron and you should be too.“, that is Jason‘s goodbye, a reminder that the centaur should be a protector not a trainer of child soldiers

- No one follows him when he leaves not even Nico

-They all saw the cold bitterness in Jason once-loyal blue eyes, they all feel his calm aura like wolve ready to strike everyone that comes to close

- Jason is glad for their fear

- He does not want anyone innocent getting hurt in his crazy plan

- Jason fly away but still stays close to the sea

- The papers of the minor gods are destroyed but he can still remember all of their names

- Kymopolaia is the first one he calls on the beach of Montauk

- She emerges from the water in all her glory and Jason can‘t suppress his joy

-He acts like Jason grace always did

- Flattering, his compliments even making the violent storm goddess blush

- Only when she wonders why he is here that he shows her a few of his true emotions

- He talks about how Hera forced his mom to give him to the wolves

- He tells her about all the friends that he lost to Hera‘s obsession with tormenting him, how much Piper and Leo gave him hope for a home, how the queen of the gods let them die

-When he is finished high waves are fluting the beach while Kymopolaia cries in pity for the young hero

- Jason‘s apology enrages her even more

-“The twelve Olympians will never respect or honour anyone who is not useful to them.No matter how many temples I build for them you are just a goddess of lower rank just like I was just their servant. I would just waste my time trying to fix their mistakes and in the end, neither of us would get what they want.“, He says true regret in his voice

-Poseidon's daughter grits her teeth while high waves flute the beach as her body is shaking

- Jason confirmed what she has been dreading since the war ended and her father made up excuses to exclude her from his royal court

-He comforts her and he can tell how he stirs up her hate for Posidon

- Jason can barely hide his satisfaction, his plan is working just like hoped it would

- He advises her to turn the sea against her father, it‘s her birthright after all

- Kymaploaia‘s eyes fill with a mad gleam, a whirlpool around her shows agreement

- She is not afraid to take on the sea, hundreds of tormented river gods will stand behind her angry because they had been forbidden to kill the humans that hurt them every day

-After Jason wished her good luck she leaves and he lets out a laugh of satisfaction

-Words can be more powerful than lightning he learned that from Piper

- A part of him still despises what he has become but he tells himself that Hera turned him into this

- She created a weapon and now she has to deal with the consequences

- He continues to travel all over the country flying over it with his storm horse, never staying at one place for long as he is sure the eyes of Hera are on him

- Every stop brings a talk to another minor god

-Hypnos and Morpheus are easy to convince

-Every mortal needs to sleep and dream so why are they never invited to mount Olympus throne room?

- Jason orders them to rebel against the Olympians in the cities of the demigod Camps first

-It is the only way to ensure that his friends will stay out of his way

- Aelous is harder

- The mad lord of the winds always hated demigods and he is not pleased when Jason holds the dozens Venti he sends to kill him still in the air with one move of his hand

-Jason uses no charm on him but instead reminders of all the times Zeus forced him to deal with storm spirits all by himself

-The idea that he can banish the storm spirits once and for all after Zeus is gone finally convinces him

-But Jason still wants the god to know that he is the leader of this rebellion who should not be messed with

- So he concentrates and moves his hands to control the storm spirits again

- He can feel their anger through the winds but he still manages to force them to turn into wolves their lightning eyes blazing with hatred

-“You will serve me from now on.“, He orders them through his mind his voice sounding like thunder in their heads and they indeed bow their heads before him

-Aelous only laughs at this sight

-“You have changed Jason Grace! If you are ready to rebel against your father just because of the Aphrodite girl and that son of Hephaistus then you are just as crazy as me.“ The lord of the winds jokes when Jason is about to leave with his new wolves

-“I‘m just ready to do anything for the people I love.“, Jason replies coldly

-From Olympus Hera hears those words too

- They seem a weak excuse for all the chaos Jason has caused

-The sea has been stormy for days swallowing ships and fluting beaches while the cities are fluted by rivers

- Zeus is barely able to control his winds and so the weather jumps from hot to cold in minutes

The gods own children are sleeping alongside hundreds of mortals unable to help their parents

- Hera knows that Jason will make things even worse if he is not stopped now

- But her love for him or rather the love for his loyalty to her is what makes her believe that she can bring him back

- Not herself she is not that naive

- Only one person can and even though she is gone Hera has figured a way to use her against Jason

-If only she could see the cruelty of her tricks

- Jason begins to hear Piper‘s voice again in his dreams

- She is not soft with him anymore

- Instead, she tells him how terrible he has become, that he acts like a pathetic child just because he failed to save her

-He yells that he is doing all this to get justice for and Leo but that only makes her laugh so loud that he has to cover his ears to drown it out

- Sometimes he also hears Leo mocking him, saying that he can‘t believe he ever looked up to him

- Jason wakes from those nightmares in sweat and tears until he decides that sleep is overrated

- He feels more comfortable moving around with his wolves anyway, it reminds him of old times, his childhood

- Unfortunately, his sleep deprivation changes his methods to gain more allies

- The nature spirits (Nymphs and dryads), aren‘t met with his charm but instead little patience and quick anger

- To Jason they are dumb, Zeus hit on them for centuries why are they so unwilling to turn against him?

-He tries to stay calm but their talks about how his plan is insane to remind him of Piper and the things she said in his dreams

- Not only once does he command his venti to burn whatever three or plant annoys him too much, the wolves happily oblige and tore the spirits apart with their electricity sparking teeth

- More and more Jason Grace begins to remind them of Zeus, unforgiving, cruel to anyone that does not obey his wishes

-When a young dryad girl dares to say that to Jason out loud he snaps

-A huge thunderstorm is summoned, lightning blasting the girl loved ones

-The forest burns in bright orange flames and Jason uses the winds to direct them towards the girls three

- She dies screaming in the flames while storm wolves bite at her to electrocute

- Jason grins at her Beggs as he looks directly into her beautiful dark eyes, Hera has those too

- Nature decides to join him out of fear

- The gods will be mad but it is the only way to avoid Jason‘s rage

-Jason feels powerful riding past them on his horse while they bow

-He can feel the wind gods around him ice cold, hot like fire

-On mount Otrys he calls for Hecate as the next step for his plan

- When she ignores his call he does not care

- Electricity runs through his veins power, it does not matter if he has to wait a bit until Olympus falls

- Suddenly a voice calls him making his blood turn cold

-He turns his head to look behind him and as expected no one is there

-He tells his rising panic that it was not real, he just hasn‘t slept for four days

- The temperature drops, darkness crawls over the hilltop, he feels watched

-“I‘m here Jason it‘s okay.“, Her voice is sweet close and yet it makes him shiver in fear

- It can‘t be her

- Jason draws his sword and gets on his horse, the wolves growl restlessly as they can feel their master distress

-“Who are you? Show yourself!“, He demands despite his shaking voice

- Her laughter is loud wild like the summers breeze, he has heard it a thousand times before

-His eyes fly around frantically there is only the shadows of the rising night

-“I‘m your girlfriend Jason! Did you already forget that?“, the girl that can‘t be her asks amused

- A person stands in front of him out of nowhere

-Jason‘s sword falls to the ground, his eyes fill with tears

-Her clothes are nothing she would wear and yet he would recognize her blind

-Piper McLean, the love of his life stands there in a white long dress, her dark brown hair falls loose around her shoulders, her eyes of lighter brown are reaching into his soul

-“No…...this is a trick! You…….you are dead.“, Saying it hurt but it was the truth

- His venti flicker with lighting in agreement

-“I……..don‘t know why they let out but does that matter?!, I‘m here and….I missed you.“, Piper sobs, her despair finally washes away his doubts with guilt

-He slides off his horse ignoring the suspicious neighing

-Jason goes to her slowly putting his hand on her cheek, she feels real

-“I missed you too Pipes.“, He croaks and then breaks down pulling her against his chest all pain of losing her, the hatred against Hera, the things he did to convince gods and spirits to rise against their rulers, even the nightmares in which she hated him, spilling out of him

-He is scared of her backing away when he is finished, of her making his horrible dreams come true

-Instead, she looks flattered and sad as she puts a hand on his chin

-“Perhaps that is why they allowed me to leave the underworld.“, She says so softly and Jason is caught in confusion and overwhelming relief that she does not hate him

-“What do you mean?“, Jason asks suddenly feeling worried, the gods would never allow someone to cheat death especially someone close to him

-“I think the gods want me to save you from yourself.“, Piper answers with concern,

-Jason looks at her stunned then as he processes her words anger rises in him

.-Yes it does sound like Hera to use Piper that way

-“No Pipes I never felt better ! They are just scared because I make their system fall apart.“, He responds not able to hide his pride,

- He is happy that she worries for him but he wants her to know that he is okay that they are okay

-He wants to squeeze her hand as recurrence but Piper steps back with guilt in her eyes

“ Jason…….you haven‘t slept for days and all those burnt nature spirits? This isn‘t you.“, She says her words soft but they are too much like his dreams

-“Yea I have been a bit crazy lately but only because I want to make them stop Pipes. All those mistakes or wars of the gods that we have to die and fight for. Losing Leo and you was something I don‘t want any other demigod to go through. I want us to live in peace and that is only possible if we aren‘t controlled by an egoistic good and his controlling queen.“, He explains and despite his fear, he means every word

- He just wants Piper to understand so that she will fight at his side again

-The image brings a smile to his face

-The two of them standing in front of a chained up Hera in all their glory

-Piper brings him back with a sigh and the deep pity in her eyes fills him with despair

-Why is she so against opposing the gods, Wasn‘t she the one that cursed Hera and despised how the goddess put herself in charge of his life?

-A dread rises in the back of him, he suppresses it quickly

-“Our lives aren‘t controlled by the gods Jason. The fates are the ones that decide what challenges a hero has to face. You are wasting your time and ruining your own life fighting for something that will never change. Call off the rebellion Jason and tell the gods to be actual parents. Tell them to protect their children from their destines as long as possible and then go home to rest. That would be easier than a war you can‘t win.“, Piper finally says

-Despite all of his anger Jason has to admit that her advice is tempting

- The vision of him growing old with Piper could come true plus he truly is not strong enough to fight fate itself so why not ask the gods for a favour? Maybe he can convince them to change after all he is the favourite of their rulers

-But then a thought washes away that option and he figures a way to tell Piper why the Olympian council needs to be reformed

- When Piper takes his hand again he looks at her with determination

“I can‘t. Hera loves using demigods too much. Look what happened to Leo. She claimed that she wanted to prepare him for his future just to let his mom die and let him sacrifice himself. You once said that heroes have to step up and do what is right and that is what I‘m doing right now.“, He explains

-For a short moment he thinks guilt washes over Pipers face

- Suddenly he realizes how strange her pleading was

-Piper always was someone to take action, she would never tell him to just do nothing and the way she almost took all fault from the gods……..

-“Hera only did that because she knew what Leo‘s role in the war was gonna be. She may not be the best but she is not our enemy Jason. She cared for Leo and she cares about you too.“, Piper says and now Jason is sure

- He rips his hand away from her his eyes burning with rage

-“Piper would never defend Hera ! Who are you?“, He asks coldly anger numbing the shattering of his heart

-The girl looks at him in confusion, he hates that she does it through Pipers eyes

“ Jason -“

-“ Don‘t! Stop using her voice and show yourself! I want to know which god I have the honour to kill!“, Jason spats

- At this moment he forgets all of his good morals, only blind hatred is left

-The Venti come to his aid, they swirl around him like a mini hurricane and he can feel their power pulsing through him, waiting for his command

-“I‘m just trying to help you Jason even if you could kill me that would not solve anything.“She warns but it is still Piper's voice and he will make her pay for it.

-“Oh no I think this will make me feel a lot better and if Hera send you just know that what happens to know is her fault, not mine.“, Jason says with a cruel smile before turning his storms to pure lightning

- with a hand wave the spirits turn into pure lightning crashing into where she stood

-Flames light up the hill but she is not there anymore

-A huge dove is in her place attacking immediately scratching at his face

-Dark clouds gather thunder is booming, rain falls,

-the Windlords themselves lift Jason into the air pushing his attacker away

- He does not need his sword

- The sky is his weapon

-Jason chases the goddess, calls cold wind to let hail fall onto her instead of rain

- Lightning strikes and he catches it in his bare hands, it flickers over his entire body until it gets thrown towards his victim

-Despite all of this the dove keeps trying to get closer, her voice pleading for him to stop his madness

- A hysterical laugh is his answer, he remembers a time where the gods loved him for his kindness, the same one that forced him to keep Heras chains on him for too long

- This goddess is treating him like he is still a pawn but that will end now

- Jason spins himself around his arms outstretched

- Wind blows around him, the dove shrieks in panic

- A tornado is throwing her around in circles like a puppet

- She changes form to other animals, attempts to escape through the cloud storms walls

- That is when they become pure lightning

- it hits her makes her body twist unnaturally

- She falls and Jason is still in the storms eye, He feels like a god bathed in his fathers lightning bolts

- The goddess unmoving body beneath him looks so tiny almost fragile even when she has changed to her Olympian form

- He would have pitied her if he hadn‘t recognized her, now he only feels disgusted

- Another shockwave is sent through her body before Jason dissolves his tornado

- The wind gods hesitate for a moment not liking what Jason might have in mind

- Jason is stronger and so they follow him down towards his victim as only a soft breeze

-“Why?“, He spats down at her as she wakes up

- His short question holds her crime all the pain and false hope she put him through

- She gets on her knees to look up at him her ever-changing hair clothes and eyes even her skin that is healing her burns are no beauty to him anymore

-“Hera and I only wanted to help you Jason.“, Aphrodite apologizes maybe there are real tears in her eyes

-“ I need help? I‘m not the one impersonating my dead daughter to manipulate her boyfriend!“, He spats finding her trick even more disgusting as he puts it into words

- He thinks about how she held him, what would have happened if he did not find out who she was

- He feels dirty

“I always take on the form of loved ones that's why Hera send me. She knew that Piper was the only one to get you out of your grief. Love is the only thing more powerful than hate“, Aphrodite explains and with every word, she looks more and more like Piper again

- Jason realizes that she is just as bad as Hera, another god that messed with his mind

- He sees how heavy she is breathing, it is time to punish her

-“Well then let me tell you something about love.“, Jason says making a pulling motion with his hands reaching for her breath

- He bends the oxygen out of her, the goddess head being forced forward

-The winds grow stronger again, he hears their whispers to not do this, he is deaf to their pleads

-“N – No!“, She protests in horror, her body glows attempting to release her true form but his attack surprised her and is now making her too weak

-Jason continues an air bubble forming around her head

-She digs her nails into her throat until they are bloody, her eyes nearly pop out of her skull and her face is an ill shade of blue

- the chocking noises she makes are music for him

-Jason enjoys every second

-Her looking like Piper does not save her

- It only reminds him more of the future he has lost and that makes him more furious

-When her sounds and body become still and her face is one mask of fear he finally tells her

-“Love never lasts long in this world.“

-No air gets added to the bubble, it dissolves

- An Aphrodite goddess of Love and beauty falls dead to the ground killed by her daughter's lover

- Jason feels empty

- He just killed a goddess he should feel ecstatic

- But instead, he feels as if something broke inside him

-Jason stares at the sky waiting for a reaction

-“ Come on Hera! This is what you wanted me to become right? A murderer your weapon. Just come to me and admit it !“, Jason yells tears streaming down his cheeks

-He falls to the ground as the thing he did crashes down on him

-He killed for revenge just like Zeus, Hera and all other gods did for centuries

-How is he better than them now?

-His allies seem to think the same thing

-Jason can‘t summon his venti in the morning

- The winds are harder to bend under his will

- Nature hides from him it does not matter how much he burns no one shows up

- Sometimes he hears the spirits weeping but he knows it is not meant for him

- Jason gets more and more desperate

- As of last hope he goes to San Fransisco

- The first step he takes into the city shows him that it‘s full of life again

-He plays with the thought of going back to Camp Jupiter

- But he does not want his friends to see what he has become

- On Ocean Beach, he yells for Kym

-Jason tells himself that she can help him turn his fate around

-“I‘m sorry Jason but I don‘t talk to traitors.“, She whispers from under the sea

-Jason feels like a wolve being cornered

-“ I never betrayed you the gods did !“ He shouts his voice sounding childish in his ears

-“You promised to fight in my name and then went on a crazy rampage just to make Hera feel bad. I expected better from you Jason.“, Kym told him in a stern almost motherly tone

- The words are a punch to his gut, a mirror showing him the truth

-His plan was supposed to be a peaceful change of the god's council, yes he knew about the damage the minor gods would cause but that was just to get the higher gods attention

-He sees the dryad girl in the flames, aphrodite chocking as air is pulled out of her

-This rebellion started with a wish for justice for Leo and Piper, for all those treated badly by the gods

- His lust for revenge destroyed all that

-Regretful he walks into the sea the water going up to his knees

-“ I‘m sorry.“, Jason says honestly

-That is when they finally react

- The waves grow bigger a man with a trident emerging out of them, Nature spirits come out of their plants with pinecones and daggers for weapons the blond-haired woman with her crown of corn is their true goddess

- The mist rising around him lets him hear his victim screams once more

-“Jason Grace we are here to punish you for crimes against us and the entire western civilization. Surrender now or seal your fate.“All of the Command in Unison

-He thinks of giving himself up

-He was raised as a Roman, he learned when a soldier has no chance to win

- Yet the thought of kneeling and letting Hera win so easily makes him sick

- And so he refuses

- The fight does not take long

- Jason summons lightning to blast away Nyads that grasped his ankles

-He runs out of the sea directing lightning at the advancing Dryad warriors

-They burn but the flames seem to have gathered they're own concise

-Orange and high they rage towards him growing on sand which was not possible

-They burn Jason‘s arm as he attempts to fly over them

-Screaming in pain he struggles to stay in the air

-Demeter uses her giant staff to let the three roots attack him like huge arms

-Her followers throw weapons at histones that for some reason always hit no matter how much he uses wind to push them away

-Rain comes and turns into a huge rain shower blinding his view

-He is forced to fly backwards and that is when Poseidon's trident impales his gut

-Blood spills pain forbids him to breath

-His vision goes black before he falls in the threes arms

-Jason wakes in ironically on chains in front of Hera and Zeus

-"I hope you know what a disappointment you are to me.", Zeus says but Jason's eyes are fixed on Hera

-She looks at him with a deep sorrow he did not expect so he chooses the last beg

-" Whoever you choose as your next heroes Hera please don't control them. Remember me as a warning of what happens if you do.", He pleads

-He is scared of his punishment but if Hera realizes her mistakes then maybe all of this was worth it

-Hera only replies with a small nod

-Then he is dragged off to the underworld by Hades off to the cliffs that lead into Tartarus

Jason panics as he realizes

He thought that he would end up in the fields of punishment

-But of course, Zeus hates when his children ruin his good name

-He struggles against his bonds begs his uncle to at least let him see his friends one more time

Luckily Hades is one of the kinder gods

-He summons Piper's ghost, he does not say why Leo is not there

-She smiles at him sadly and maybe with anger which Jason does not blame her for

-Her kiss on his forehead brings tears to his eyes

-"Goodbye Jason. I'm sorry I caused you so much trouble.", She whispers and he shakes his head

-"Don't be. All of this is Heras fault and mine.", He tells her and with that, she is gone again

-He thinks of her and Leo while he falls

-Hera mourns him for days

-She watches the rest of the seven holding his funeral at Camp Jupiter

-They understand his motives and that's why they still love him as the friend he was

-Hera understands him too

-She was not liked in the past few centuries and that was why the idea of her very own hero made her blind for letting him be a child

-Now that was what killed him and Zeus was already off making another hero that he can be more proud of

-A child he warned her to not even look at

-The other demigods resent her even more

-Frank Zhang would be her other hero but Hazel Levesque would never let her near him

-She thinks about Jasons last words, his beg that she shouldn't mess with children's lives

-It's when Leo Valdez returns and learns of his friend's fate that she promises herself to remember

-The hatred in his eyes is enough to bring even a goddess to her senses

#Percy Jackson #heroes of olympus #Hoo #jason grace #dark jason #jiper #piper mclean #major character death

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the-alice-of-hearts · 4 years ago

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Kids Again Ch 2

Ch 2: He likes to keep his burner on

First Next>

Marinette would always remember the first time she looked through her romantic Soulmate’s eyes. She was five years old when she started crying in the middle of the day in maternelle. Nino ran to get the teacher while she gasped, trying to form her feelings into words. Her parents came to pick her up and her maman held her while she cried. When she was able to tell them what she saw, they held her close.

Her papa told her that her Soulmate must have been even more scared than she was, but that she could help look over him.

Her maman said that she wasn’t responsible to be the one to save him, that the people who were responsible for this had a duty to take care of him. She also said she didn’t have to sacrifice her own life for his.

Her maman told her that if she showed him kindness and love, the universe would make sure that they could meet one day. Marinette kept that in her heart every day. She wanted to show her soulmate that the world could be a brighter place than the dark place he lived in. She lived every happy memory to its fullest, and every night she sent a prayer into the sky; asking her guardian spirits to watch over her soulmate.

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

When Marinette was nine, she woke up in the middle of the night in a panic. She saw through her soulmate’s eyes as he got stabbed, but even after that stopped, even as he passed out from the pain, she still felt emotions coming from her soulbond. She felt like she was watching someone die right in front of her. She was frozen in terror, knowing she could do nothing to change it. She didn’t go back to sleep that night, instead, she grabbed her sewing kit and started to take the pink applique flowers off her only black dress. She then went to work on making a veil. She also found the blue dress that she had worn to her great-grandfather’s funeral. She wasn’t sure what you were supposed to wear to a funeral for your soulmate’s family, but she wanted to be ready to get dressed in the morning.

When her mother came to wake her up in the morning she shifted her gaze up to her from the floor. She had sat there to write in her journal. She opened her mouth and asked her mom the important question she needed an answer to, “Maman, can you have more than one soulmate?”

______________________________

Sabine looked around her daughter’s room when she saw the dresses Marinette was sitting next to, “It does happen. What did you see Bǎobèi?” ((mandarin: baby))

Marinette shook her head, “I didn’t see it, mama. I just felt like I was watching someone really important to me die. I can still feel the link though, so it couldn’t have been my soulmate. But I didn’t see it, I just felt it... Could I have a platonic soulmate too?”

Sabine scooped her daughter up into her arms, “You could. I think it’s very possible you do.” Marinette started crying, “Shhh, it’s okay sweetheart.” She adjusted her grip on Marinette so she could move to sit them both onto her fainting couch. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She sniffled nodding, “what do you wear to mourn someone you aren’t related to?”

“In China, you would wear a dark color to the funeral of the death of a loved one who you aren’t related to. But not black. You only wear black for your parent’s or husband’s funeral. In France, you can wear black if you want to, but any dark color is okay. If you follow your gut feeling where does your platonic soulmate live?”

Marinette furrowed her brow, “I don’t know māma, I can’t see them.”

Sabine smoothed Marinette’s hair down, “Did your heart say somewhere when I asked you?”

Marinette nodded, “America. I thought about America… but I also thought about Paris…”

She looked at her daughter in contemplation, “Meiyun, do you remember how I taught you to meditate?” Marinette nodded, “I want you to meditate with me, but I want you to focus on your soul link. Can you do that for me?”

Marinette nodded. She sat up and got into a relaxed position. Taking in a deep breath she closed her eyes. After a few moments, Sabine started talking to her, “When you breathe in I want you to gather up all your emotions, and then, as you breathe out, let them flow to the background of your mind.”

Marinette smiled, “Like music?”

She smiled at her daughter, “Exactly like music. Let your feelings be the beat of the song, and look for the melodies of your soulmates.” She watched Marinette breathe and then start to hum.

Sabine’s older sister had been a part of a multibond and she knew it ran in the family, but she wasn’t sure how she would be able to help her daughter. Her soulmate died when she was a girl, they were a platonic bond and she hadn’t even met them. Tom’s soulmate bond was also platonic. He had met him once and they were pen-pals, but their friendship had never gotten that close. When Marinette was born she had a spark in her eyes that Sabine knew was pointing towards a difficult journey for her daughter. When she started to see through her Soulmate’s eyes Sabine knew she was right. She looked at her little girl, so young and yet so strong. Her sister had the same strength when she was young, Sabine just hoped that her daughter wouldn’t follow the same path. When Marinette opened her eyes Sabine waited for her to talk, her daughter was young, but, when it was something important, she always tried to figure out what she was going to say before speaking.

“There are three other melodies. So if I include my own that makes four. My song and Jay's are really close, but the other two are a little lower? They are as close to each other as ours are though.”

Sabine smiled at her, “It sounds like you have two platonic soulmates, and that they are romantic soulmates. Multibonds are rarer in the world, but they happen more often than most people think. My sister had a multibond too, she had four soulmates total. That just means that you have a lot more love to give, and a lot more love to receive.”

Marinette nodded at her, “So I could find one of my Soulmates here in Paris?”

Sabine scooped her daughter up in her arms, “You might sweetie, but unless all four of you are together you might never know.”

Marinette tilted her head in confusion, “but why?”

Sabine smiled and booped Marinette on the nose, “soulmates have a spark when they meet each other. It’s your soul saying ‘you did it! You found my other parts!’ but that can’t happen until all the pieces of your soul are together.”

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

Eventually, Marinette learned how to pick out each of the distinct ‘voices’ of her soulmates. She knew when her platonic soulmates were hurting.

Each year her soulmate from America would mourn the same loss, her soulmate from Paris would have days where they would be filled with so much sadness and loneliness, and her Soulmate would have days where he couldn’t eat or would be running for his very life.

When her Paris bond started having the same hunger pains she got worried. She was used to the pains coming from Jason, knew exactly what they felt like and how long you went without proper nutrition before the pain kicked in.

She started reaching out to those around her, making sure that everyone she interacted with knew she was a person they could turn to.

She made herself known as someone who cared deeply about her friends.

When Chloé started being mean to her she spoke only kindness.

When Kim and Alix got into a fight she was there to hear both sides and help them see the other’s point of view.

When Nino got overwhelmed she sat quietly by his side so he knew he wasn’t alone.

She did everything she could for her friends because she was fighting the feeling that she could do nothing for her soulmates.

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

She was 11 when she learned all about the Gotham vigilantes.

She had some memories of Jason on the streets where he hid from Batman and had heard him talk about him, but she had never seen him.

Until she checked in Jason when he was caught in the middle of taking the tires off the batmobile. She hadn’t meant to look through his eyes, she was just very tired. When she closed her eyes for a little too long the soulbond drew her to him. She giggled when he was spooked in the middle of taking off tire number 4. She was worried when she felt his burst of fear when the vigilante placed him in the back of the batmobile. She watched him scared when he was taken to the bat-cave, heard him plead not to be taken to the cops. He sobbed telling the vigilante that he would rather die than go to the foster care system.

“Marinette, earth to Marinette.” Alix was waving their hand in front of her face, “you want to come back to Paris?”

“Huh? Oh!” Marinette jumped back. She looked around at her trio of friends.

“Dudette, what happened?” Nino reached out to hug her, then added in a soft voice, “you were laughing and then got this look of panic on your face.”

Kim was sitting behind the two of them, with Marinette by the wall she could see that the three of them had formed a barrier of sorts. She could see him watching to make sure that no one tried to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“It was really funny, he tried to steal the tires off the batmobile.”

Kim started to laugh at that, “no wonder you looked panicked. Did he get caught by the bat?”

Marinette bit her lip trying not to cry, nodding at Kim, “He did. He was so scared.”

That shut him up real quick, “Mari, look at me.” Kim reached out a hand, “Jason is going to be okay. You know he will, he’s been in tougher spots before.”

Alix scooched closer to her to lay against her shoulder, “not like he hasn’t gotten out of worse scrapes before. Didn’t you say he took down two guys with guns like last week?”

Marinette giggled and rubbed her eyes, “yeah, but they aren’t batman.”

Nino had been looking up any information about the vigilante he could find, “Netté, it says here that he has a strict no-killing policy and a soft spot for kids. Jason could beat the shit out of him and he still wouldn’t hurt him.”

That got a loud laugh from them.

“M. Lahiffe, do you have something you want to share with the class?”

They all snapped to attention, “No Ma’am.”

Their teacher nodded, “Then might I request that you all return to silent study time.”

_____________________________________

After school, they all ran to the bakery. It was a long-standing tradition to lay around Marinette’s living room and eat snacks while they did homework. Alix was throwing a paper ball into the air while Kim checked over their math assignment.

“I don’t know why you have me check, it’s not like I’m the best at math.”

“You are in this group. Nino is our french lit. guy. Mari can check over English assignments. I have History, you have maths. And then we struggle with science and geography as a group.”

“Hey! I’m good at geography!”

Alix threw their paper ball at him, “then you should have volunteered to check my geography assignment.”

Marinette interrupted the start of an argument that would become a bet that would lead to her cleaning up the mess, again. “Alix, you have to stop using so much slang in your English assignments.”

“Why? You do, I’ve seen your papers.”

“I use common slang, you’re using the slang that I’ve picked up from Jay. He uses a lot more regional slang. And you know our teacher has given you marks off for it in the past.”

“Not my fault that he didn’t understand my essay.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, “haven’t you ever heard of writing to your audience?”

Kim laughed at her, “Mari, you sound just like Nino!”

She stuck her tongue out at him, “at least I’m not the one teasing my foreign language tutor before she checks over my work.”

“You wouldn’t!” he turned on the full puppy eyes, “please Mari, you know I would fail without you.”

“Yeah, I know. Hand it over I finished Alix’s.”

They sat there for a while, each finishing their assignments and then checking over the other’s work. Quiet afternoons spent above the warm bakery always lulled them into a peaceful state. The soft sounds of writing and the speaker in the kitchen playing one of Nino’s new study playlists. Marinette always loved these moments when she felt so loved; surrounded by her best friends, able to hear drifts of the conversations on the street below. Moments like these were feelings she cherished, images that she engraved into her mind. Opening her small pink journal she started writing to Jason. She wanted to tell him everything about her life, so until she could see him in person she wrote to him.

Nino was the first one to break the gentle silence, “Netté, why do you think he was so scared?”

Alix and Kim both looked up from where they were doing the maths homework. With all their gazes on her she knew she had to say something, “he doesn’t want to go into the foster care system.” She took a deep breath and started to doodle on the corner of her page, “he, well he knows some kids who have been in the system. It’s really corrupt in Gotham. A lot… a lot of foster care parents are bad people. They abuse their wards and get the money from the system. Older kids get it worse, a-an-and he’s 13 now. S-s-so he would ha-ve a harder time getting a good family.”

She had started crying and was now quietly sobbing. Kim moved closer and picked her up to hold in his lap. Nino and Alix moved closer to join the group hug.

After she had calmed down enough to talk Alix asked her, “Mar, why don’t you try to check in on him?”

She sighed, whipping her tears away, “I tried earlier during lunch, I think he was asleep though.” She bit her lip, “I could try again maybe, but he seems calm now. What if I just worry him more?”

“It’s up to you Netté. We are here to support you, not tell you what you should do about your bond.”

She nodded, “I think I’ll wait then.”

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

Over the next two years, she learned a lot more about Gotham’s heroes vigilantes. Jason was the new Robin. His new brother was the first Robin, now he had a new alias Nightwing. Bruce Wayne is Batman was a huge secret that was dropped on her. One that her three closest friends knew too. They had been sworn to secrecy, but she couldn’t not tell them.

They were her small family, and if she wasn’t going to tell her parents then she was going to tell them. Sure, his identity needed to be protected. But what harm could four people from halfway across the world do? She started collecting news clippings of Robin. Each time he helped someone and they caught him on camera. The kids around the blocks he patrolled being in awe of the kid in the bright colors who would help anyone who needed it. She got to see him splitting off from patrol to take food to a building he knew had people living in it.

Then came the other good moments. His butler, who was more grandfather than employee, taught him how to cook. His new father, the adoption papers went through really fast, enrolled him in school. Bruce saw how much Jason liked to read and put a couple large bookcases in his room. Then bought him different books that he thought might interest him. He was trying, but things were still awkward sometimes. His brother, Richard but people called him Dick, was in the circus before becoming a Wayne. He taught Jason to use his natural dexterity to flip around attackers, telling him that a moving target was harder to hit. The robin colors made you easy to see, so you had to be fast and think on your feet. If you never stopped moving then they couldn't hit you.

Marinette asked her parents if she could continue her gymnastics classes. They were only a little surprised. She had taken a break when her soulbond had gotten to be too much, but knowing that he was safe meant she could focus on herself again.

That started with being fast and nimble and getting herself ready for when she ran the streets with him. She spent hours redesigning the Robin suit and making herself a hero persona. She had decided on Nightingale as a name and designed her suit in black and orange. She made her design a partner to her redesign of Jason’s Robin suit. She knew they were going to be partners, so they needed to match.

She just wished that she could be there with him now. Running the rooftops by his side, helping him, making sure he makes it home.

#maribat #jasonette #soulmates #Kids again fic

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codedredalert · 3 years ago

Text

atop the wall, wisdom cries out [One Piece, Robin] -- oneshot

Robin-centric character study || 1052 words

She has the split-second to wonder if all great turning points in history are like this—destiny at the mercy of a momentous decision—

(Written for the OP Tarot Project High Priestess and Eight of Wands cards.)

High Priestess Upright: Intuition, insight, sacred knowledge, things yet to be revealed, reflection. Reversed: Secrets, information withheld, disharmony.

Eight of Wands Upright: Movement, action, alignment, abrupt changes, quick decisions. Reversed: Delays, frustration, resisting change, internal alignment.

Explanations of references in the end notes.

Warnings: canon-typical violence

(On Ao3)

===/\===

(1) Lesson: A cup of water is not yours until you drink it. Likewise, knowledge.

All scholars of Ohara memorise via the method of loci, and Nico Robin, at eight years old, is no exception. Her favourite is a temple hewn from stone, a wise king's magna opus as reconstructed from academic blueprints. There, she stores the lessons she learns: a kind elderly lady still calls for the marines in the night after she's fed you; a knife in the hands of a frightened child can still slit a soldier's throat; a powerful man is still not quite immune to the intrigue of a beautiful woman.

She drinks deeply from the cup of knowledge and suffering, and two pillars form in the forefront of the temple. The first is who she has always been—the pursuit of good things, knowledge for knowledge's sake, building up, preserving, and leaving a legacy for all humanity. The other is who she discovered she was when the world government placed a bounty on her head—an immovable strength, manifesting in guile, bloodshed, and conquest.

Her surprise is only at how readily she accepts these as her foundation—the twin load-bearing columns of the woman she now is.

===/\===

(2) Aphorism: Scientia potestas est. (Translation: Knowledge is power.)

"Read it," demands Crocodile. Then he raises a hand to call her to pause and adds, almost smugly, "Out loud."

He thinks he's clever. Robin smiles. He's not stupid, but Robin is really, really clever.

She hadn't intended deception when she'd first sought out the most comprehensive history of Alabasta. (Three archaic hand-scribed manuscripts and a yellowed but hardly-used guide. It was technically restricted access, though that hardly mattered in the face of Robin's devil fruit.) She had merely wanted to know—the first pillar of Nico Robin.

She recites this knowledge from memory, trailing her fingers along the runes of the poneglyph before her, retrieving the words verbatim as she walks through the temple rooms in her mind. She fully expects Crocodile to interrupt her, to point to one word or the other and demand its meaning. She already has the textbook explanation on why translation is an imperfect art on the tip of her tongue. She doesn't get that far.

He's never been a patient man, especially when it comes to failure.

(3) Quote: Death never takes a wise man by surprise; he is always ready to go.

He deals her a mortal wound and leaves her to bleed out in the collapsing tomb of this country's kings. The age-old stone crumbles and groans, weary and slow to return to dust. She closes her eyes and waits.

It's surprisingly peaceful.

(4) Comment: As implied ibid, "life is full of surprises". (5) Fallacy: Appeal to pity.

Straw Hat Luffy saves her and she demands 'why' but receives no answer. As she dusts herself off, she decides a fitting consequence for his unwelcome charity. She invites herself to his crew.

A strange group—they actually accept her, welcome her into their lives and their home despite being enemies three days before.

Over time, she learns that if she drops into a light doze below deck beside Nami, the next morning will come with warmth, the smell of breakfast wafting in from the adjoining kitchen, and that strange, unconditional acceptance.

(6) Study: Repeated exposure to similar situations without negative stimuli result in dissociation of situation and stimuli.

. . . and she is . . . happy?

(7) Supra (4).

===/\===

(8) Truism: Nothing lasts forever. (9) Quote: Only a fool can be happy.

The government finds her, as they have many times before. This time, however, she can't bring herself to offer these people as sacrifice in her place. She tries desperately to think of an alternative to the offer laid before.

She becomes the illusion of stillness, there is no stillness in her. Her mind is structure and movement all at once—the earth in revolution beneath the temple's foundation stone. Her mind moves as the celestial bodies, a million miles a minute, yet imperceptible. She is perfectly grounded as the centrifugal force tears her apart.

A lifetime ago, she was taught to smile when she wants to cry, so she smiles now. A mind built by the wisest men in history and it yields no solutions, so what use is it? What use is she? She's only good for secrets, sabotage, and smiles like sweet poison.

Even the greatest temple cannot stand forever.

(10) Quote: The only way to have a friend is to be one. Nb. This implies friends are worth having. Comment: The author agrees. (11) Quote: There is nothing worth living for, unless it is worth dying for. (12) (Non-)issue: Hobson's choice. (13) Principle: Occam's razor.

She takes the offer.

===/\===

(14) Policy: No man left behind.

The friends she tried to save came for her. They stand in proud defiance of the authorities that have wronged her all her life, figures of would-be legend backlit by the sun, their shadows stark and black, bridging the deep chasm she stands on the other side of, alone.

It borders on the absurd. They shouldn't have, it makes no logical sense. And yet, there they stand.

(15) Quote: When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.

She fails to understand and finds that for once, she does not need to know. Equally illogical hope wells up in her. (The temple is shored up, its glory to be restored. Not yet, but in the future promised.)

"Say you wanna live," shouts Luffy, and he waits for her answer, as if he has all the time in the world. As if time itself will yield to his force of will.

It almost does. The mad rush of adrenaline blocks all noise except the rush of blood in her veins, her captain's voice ringing in her ears. She has the split-second to wonder if all great turning points in history are like this, destiny at the mercy of a momentous decision, all the world in bated breath.

She doesn't stop to wonder if she dares. The second pillar of her identity commands her to be bold.

(16) Proverb: Fortune favours the bold.

"I want to live," she cries across the divide—

—and—

(17) Supra (4).

—she is saved.

===/ENDNOTES\===

At the risk of these notes being longer than the actual fic (I got too hyped by the thought of pseudo-academic formatting and used way too many probably-obscure references), here's helpful notes so you don't have to ask google:

the method of loci— (loci being Latin for "places")— is a strategy of memory enhancement which uses visualisations of familiar spatial environments in order to enhance the recall of information. The method of loci is also known as the memory journey, memory palace, or mind palace technique.

magna opus— Latin for "great work", especially the greatest achievement of an artist or writer.

aphorism— an observation which contains a general truth/ a concise statement of a scientific principle, typically by a classical author.

ibid— a citation signal to refer to a single work cited in the note immediately preceding. The abbreviation of ibidem, being Latin for "in the same place".

supra— a citation signal used to refer to an earlier-cited authority. Supra is Latin for "above".

truism— a statement that is obviously true and says nothing new or interesting.

nb— a citation signal to draw the reader's attention to a certain aspect or detail of the subject being discussed. The abbreviation of nota bene, which is Latin for "note well".

Hobson's choice— A forced or false choice. It is believed that the phrase derives from Thomas Hobson (1545–1631) who ran a horse rental business in England. He rented out horses but insisted that customers took the horse nearest the stable door. The choice his customers were given was "this or none"; making it effectively Hobson's choice of horse. — (source)

Occam's razor— Occam's razor (or Ockham's razor) is a principle from philosophy that the simplest solution is usually the best one.

===/END\===

(On Ao3) ( patreon ) ( kofi ) ( paypal )

#nico robin #monkey d luffy #sir crocodile #alabasta #ohara #one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #opfanfic #op fanfiction #op fanfic #op #my writing #mine #tarot

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daydream-believin · 4 years ago

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The Never-Ending Roadtrip (Autumn in New York, pt 2)

summary: (ch 1) Reader joins Douxie in the quest for Nari’s safety. He’ll need company won’t he? - ch 10) an end to our NYC journey

warnings: swearing, alcohol mention, lots of food, NYC, pizza rat

word count: 6k on the dot

a/n: i wrote most of this when i should have been sleeping,,, so yeah. i wanna go to nyc now. HERE IT IS THE FINALE BON APETIT Y’ALL

Y/n opened her eyes very slowly. In the in-between of sleep and wake, her brain had painted a picture of her old room in the bookstore. Yes, she could still see the curtains blowing in the breeze let in by the open window. The early morning glow on the floorboards. Douxie’s soft snoring filling her ears. Yes, yes, she was home and everything felt right. And then, slowly, it wasn’t. The warm wooden floorboards faded into a white carpet, and suddenly she didn’t know what she was looking at anymore. It was disorienting. She wasn’t in her own bed. Right. New York.

She turned over onto her back and was startled when she realized Douxie was actually there, next to her. His snoring wasn’t her dream, like it had been many times before when this exact thing had happened to her. Right again. Douxie loved her back now. That was an actual thing in real life and not just her dreams. Y/n supposed it would have been weirder if he wasn’t next to her. In the scheme of things. But that didn’t mean she would be used to it any time soon. But that was good. A pleasant surprise every morning. A little burst of serotonin, as a treat.

Y/n looked at the little hot pink alarm clock. 5:48am. Good! Right on time. Just enough minutes to get everyone out the door by 6:30 as was planned. Douxie… was not going to like this. She looked over the wizard’s sleeping form. She’d let him have his rest while she showered, leaving him blissfully unaware of what’s to come. Even then he might put up a fight. Y/n popped her head into the living room to check on Nari. Still sound asleep, snug as a bug on the fluffy couch with Archie. All good. She preceded with her morning routine.

Y/n pulled on her sneakers. She supposed she really must wake Doux now. They were running out of time. She stopped dead in her tracks when she caught sight of him. If an awake Douxie was cute, then a sleeping Douxie was absolutely adorable. All Y/n’s adoration belonged to this man who was sound asleep, and therefore could not fully appreciate her doting. She had to get some pictures. Just a few, then she’ll wake him up for sure this time.

Y/n was leaning over Doux, getting closer for a better angle, when she heard his voice, muffled by the pillow he had his gorgeous face half buried into. She strained to be able to make out what he was saying.

“y-y/n…” The dopiest grin spread across his still-sleeping features.

Y/n heart was filled with so much love it might burst. And her face was so hot it might catch on fire. He was dreaming. Of her. It looked like it was a good dream, too. Even when unconscious, he stilled cared for her. His snoozing brain could have conjured up anyone, anyone in the world he’d met in the last nine centuries, and it chose her. What a wonderful feeling it was to be chosen. He had married her, she knew he had chosen her, but it still felt special to be chosen again, and again, and again, as it would through the future to come. She didn’t even know why she had done it, asked him to marry her, that is. What had possessed her. Even as she did, she had half expected him to brush it off, or maybe offer a ‘someday’, but never in her wildest dreams would she have expected him to take it as seriously as he did. Never would she have expected him to be so eager. To declare, tomorrow. She ran her hand down his arm.

“Dewdrop, you need to wake up.” He half-opened his eyes, before groaning and shutting them again in defiance. Five more minutes. Douxie was not a morning person. Neither was Y/n, but she always seemed to be up before him still. He needed to get back to her anyways. She was waiting for him in-. Someone tapped his nose repeatedly. Fine. Awake it is then.

Douxie finally opened his eyes, taking in the form of the goddess leaning over him. Oh. Maybe this was better than the dream. Were her hands on him? Yes, she was stroking his face. This definitely was better. With the small price to pay of being awake. He’d pay it happily. Give her all he had. His time, what he was made of, was a sacrifice to the most beautiful goddess. Aphrodite be damned.

She pulled him out of bed by the arm and led him to the shower. “Come on, get ready, we have to go.” She started the process of braiding back her hair.

“Wait,”

“What?”

“Stop, I want to do your hair for you.”

Y/n laughed, dropping the strands in her grasp. “Okay.”

Douxie brushed through his own drying hair and tossed it back. He went to go find Y/n, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling through a website on her phone, double checking a time. He sat next to her. Douxie ran his fingers through her locks.

“Hmm, I’m thinking… a pretty five strand.”

“and I’m thinking you need to put on some clothes first,” She pointed to the towel wrapped around his hips, “You can always braid my hair later, but you need to be dressed so we can walk out the door. We’re on a time crunch here, Dewdrop.”

“So be it.” Douxie smiled as he got up to go fulfil his wife’s request.

Now fully dressed and actually ready to go, Douxie busied himself with Y/n’s hair again. “How are we on time?”

“We should be good, as long as you don’t do anything too fancy.”

“I won’t-”

“You said five strands, like a challah bread or something. That’s fancy.”

Douxie laughed, “Okay, but it won’t take long, I promise.”

Douxie’s fingers made quick and clever work of the strands of hair. He made sure to keep it tight, but not too tight. He used to see lovers plait each other’s hair back in the day. He would look on longingly, wishing he had someone to do the same with. And now he did. Maybe he would consider growing his hair back out, if it gave Y/n the same opportunity. Not the manbun though. He was not considering bringing back the fucking manbun by any means. But having Y/n plait it every day, that would be pleasant. Not at all a cringey hairstyle. And Y/n had mentioned to him how pretty she thought past-his long hair was.

He pulled the strands further away from her neck as he was getting closer to the ends. He had to admit, he had planned on doing something a little fancier, but this would have to do. Y/n seemed anxious to make whatever deadline she had given herself. He leaned in to whisper in her ear.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to do this,” he chuckled, and his breath on her ear made her shiver, “You cannot imagine how many times I’ve dreamed of running my fingers through your hair, My Love. It just. Looked so soft.” Douxie pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. “And… Done!”

Douxie leaned back to admire his work. Simple, like she wanted, but very intricate the same. Y/n turned around to him as she headed for the bathroom mirror, taking note of how proud he looked. She turned her head this way and that in the mirror.

“Wow, this is so cute, Dewdrop. How’d you get so good.”

“Thank you, centuries of practice you see.”

Y/n giggled as she checked the clock. 6:34. “OH come on we’re gonna miss the subway.”

~~~

The subway was a magical place. Y/n sure thought so. All you had to do was step down a random staircase in the middle of the sidewalk, a nifty portal, and suddenly you were in an underground maze of commuters. Nari thought the turnstiles were odd. She just walked under it, and no one around the seemed to care, so Y/n just let her. Paying one less fare was no sweat off her back. The tiles that lined the wall were very dirty. There were mystery stains on the floor. Well, not that one the she just pulled Nari away from. That was definitely dried blood. The sound of a million grumpy people milling about and the coming and going of trains was all that Y/n could hear. She gripped Douxie’s hand tight as she double checked the map to see if they were about to board the right line. The 4 train would take them to the Brooklyn Bridge-City Hall station, right where they needed to go. This was the right way.

Right before the train arrived, Nari pointed to a spot across the hall. “Look, Archie.”

Crawling up the side of the platform was a rat. A big, fat rat. A big, fat rat with something in its mouth, carrying it up to the top. Once the rat did pull his prize up to the platform, it was plain to see. A slice of pepperoni pizza. Douxie had no idea where such a creature would acquire a perfectly whole slice of pizza this early in the morning, or, at all. Maybe it someone dropped it last night and abandoned it? The rat looked a bit scruffy. Did he have to fight off other rats for this prime piece of pie? This month had started of pretty normal for Doux but now he was standing in a subway station, holding the hand of his wife, pondering the secret life of a New York rat with a slice of pizza in its little mouth. Marvelous. Douxie felt Archie dig his claws into his shoulders, and making a chattering sound.

“Please Arch, we don’t have time for you to eat that rat.”

“But you just know it tastes like pizza, it’s got the grease all over its fur-”

“Archie, I fucking swear-”

Doux was cut off from his swearing by the train pulling in. The people who exited it rushed past, all having somewhere to be. None of them stopping to take in the wonder that was the pizza rat. Archie was sad to board the train and leave the rat. He’d get over it. The crowd of people all rushing in at once startled Nari. She clung to Y/n’s side. Since it was so early in the morning, a lot of commuters filled the train, and there wasn’t any seating left by the time they got there. Douxie gripped the ceiling bar, Y/n gripped his arm as if it was a ceiling bar, and Nari held on tight to Y/n. Douxie stared out the window in a trance as the world wooshed by him. This truly was a bizarre situation to be in. If you had told him last month that he would be here, he would have, well, not laughed, since his life was strange enough that he wouldn’t doubt it, but he would at least harbor some disbelief. There was their station.

Y/n checked the time as they stepped out onto the platform. 6:59. They needed to hurry. She tugged on Douxie’s arm. “C’mon!”

They made it to the Brooklyn Bridge just in time. Douxie was still confused about why Y/n was so adamant about being here so early in the morning. As they walked over it towards Manhattan, he understood. The early morning sun started rising just as they started the walk. The city skyline was glowing. The brilliant pinks and oranges painted the sky and everything around them. Each skyscraper glittered with the light reflecting off the windows. It was breathtaking.

The walk itself was quite relaxing. Douxie wouldn’t call the air fresh, smog and all that, but it was nice, cool and crisp. Pigeons flew by, adding their two cents in conversations only they could understand. The cars on the road next to them zoomed past. Every car had a person, and that person had somewhere to be at this early hour. Doux hoped they made it to their destinations safely. Every once and a while he would hear a honk, although he wasn’t sure from where it came. Douxie put his arm over Y/n’s shoulder to pull her closer to him. The journey from Brooklyn to Manhattan took about forty-five minutes, but it was peaceful thinking time, and Doux was grateful. Sure, plenty could go wrong, with them being on a bridge above the ocean that they were sharing with lots of fast cars, but with Y/n so close to him, he was able to put all that out of his mind.

As they reentered Manhattan, Y/n took no time at all in leading her family to a diner. She was hungry, okay? She needed breakfast. And coffee. Surely Archie would agree with her. It was food time.

Diner coffee was the best. Douxie didn’t care what fancy gourmet stuff the trendy coffee shops came out with, diner coffee would always be the best. It just had a certain je ne sais quoi. Maybe it was the vibe. Whatever it was, it was just what he needed right now at 8:00am. Not only was he unsure of how he made it this long without any caffeine, Douxie was kind of surprised he was getting away with having Archie with him, in all these places, in broad daylight. Guess his shoulder cat wasn’t the strangest thing New Yorkers had seen. Said shoulder cat was scarfing down a plate of eggs and bacon.

Y/n told Doux the rest of what she planned on having them do today over breakfast. Not much else, but enough. They’d still be out of the house until evening. That was fine. He couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be than wherever she was. As they left, they passed by a couple of kids inputting songs into the jukebox with devilish smirks. They were leaving just in time then.

Next up was a ferry ride to Staten Island. The ferry was constant, running every half hour, therefore they only had to wait a few minutes before it arrived once again for them to board. They found their seats on the upper deck, as per Y/n’s request. Apparently, this was because their reason for riding the ferry was not in fact to get to Staten Island like Douxie had thought. The purpose of the trip was to look out and see Bedloe’s Island and Lady Liberty who made her home there as the ferry cruised by it.

Y/n made Douxie hold Archie up so she could get a picture of him with the statue in the background. Archie was used to the strangeness of his familiar and his wife so the dragon cat didn’t question it. Archie_the_emo_kitty fans were going to love this. Y/n also got some of Nari and the gang. And a couples picture, but sadly, kissing Douxie’s cheek for a photo just didn’t get the same reaction as before. He was still a little pink though, as he was during all her showers of affection, so Y/n counted that as a victory.

Staten Island is hailed as the greenest borough, and thus the perfect place for Nari. After letting her run through a park for a while, they grabbed lunch at a Sri Lankan restaurant before taking the ferry back. Their clothes would smell like curry and spices for the rest of the day. Delicious, and worth it.

~~~

“Why are we going to a bar at 2pm?”

“Oh, you know, I figured day drinking was the next step for our vacation vibes,” Y/n answered Archie sarcastically, “Yeah, no. We’re just going up there to look out their window for the view.”

“You humans and your obsession with views.” Archie really didn’t see the big deal here. Whatever. He’d have to go whether he liked it or not.

Looking out over the city form the skyscraper bar’s wide window, Douxie felt uneasy. This bar’s claim to fame was this window that offered the view of the Empire State building. A building that used to be the tallest in the world. And then a younger and brighter architect built a higher one in Dubai. Makes sense. Nothing ever lasts long. He looked down at Y/n standing beside him. Maybe something would last long. He’d do everything in his power to make sure of it.

The last touristy thing Y/n wanted to see for the night was Broadway. It was getting chillier now that the sun was sinking, and Douxie magicked Y/n up a coat that was thicker than his old hoodie that she had been wearing nonstop since she stole it he gave it to her. However, she had been complaining about it losing its smell lately and telling him he needed to wear it again. Although she’d yet to let him have it back. She looked cute in the new coat. She looked cute in everything. Douxie was biased.

Broadway was covered in bright lights. The rows of theaters advertised their shows on big, dramatic signs. They weren’t going to go see any of the musicals, but it was fun to stroll down the street and see everything it had to offer. The world was bathed in an opulent gold, even the light in Y/n’s eyes as she led him down the way. Fitting, she was golden. Douxie felt like everything she touched turned to gold, like that old myth. He supposed that made him golden too.

One last stop before they went home for the night, a grocery market. They passed by so many Italian restaurants on their way from Broadway, Y/n was craving gnocchi. After hearing her talk about it during the walk, Douxie was too. Douxie held the handbasket while Y/n gathered the produce they needed for the soup. Plums were in season, and Y/n convinced Doux to let her make a few into some sweet rolls. Well, not convinced, he was all for it, she just had to ask. His cheeks were tinted just ever so slightly pink. He knew she’d known him for a really long time, so of course she knew all his favorite foods, but it still made him feel special that she’d take the time to memorize it. To memorize him. They got the cream, eggs, and butter they needed before starting the journey back to the apartment. Douxie carried all three of the bags. He wouldn’t let Y/n or Nari take one. He appreciated them offering, but, it’s not like they were heavy.

The ole’ valentines suite was just as lovey dovey as when they left it. They got to work on dinner as soon as they took off their coats. Nari and Archie took their places perched on the couch. The thing about being cute is you never have to work for your dinner, someone is always feeding you. It was alright, Douxie liked it this way better anyhow. This way he got to cook with Y/n as a special thing, just the two of them. They used to cook with each other a lot back when they were roommates. In fact, every weekend they put aside time to cook a meal together. It was tradition. Douxie had always wanted hug Y/n from behind while she stirred whatever was in the pan. He couldn’t do that then, but he definitely could now. Every time she had lifted a spoon to his lips, instructed him to taste, had been a knife jammed into his chest. She was always right there, so close he could touch, and he couldn’t do anything about it back then. He’d have to make up for lost time then.

Y/n put the potato pot on to boil and started on the sweet roll dough, asking Douxie if he’d chop up the vegetables for the soup. Aww, guess he had a job and couldn’t just spend this whole time hanging on her. Oh well, he’d chop. That was often his role in their cooking exploits. He’d admit, he had almost chopped his fingers a few times when he got too distracted sneaking glances at Y/n. He was a danger to himself really.

Y/n set the dough out to rise and started pitting and slicing up the plums. They wouldn’t need them for an hour or so, but might as well get them prepared and set aside. Douxie was still chopping the soup veggies, albeit slowly. Y/n thought he looked like he might be a little too far into his head.

“Hey Dewdrop,” Douxie looked at her, puzzled, “lets sing something to pass the time, yeah?”

Douxie was happy to sing with his beloved, and Y/n was happy to get Doux distracted from whatever was bothering him. And it was fun. Really fun. Y/n forgot how much she missed singing with people. Douxie’s voice meshed really well with hers. She really couldn’t believe that he liked her voice and that it was as pretty as he had been telling her lately, but she didn’t really care about that anymore; whether or not her voice was good or if it was embarrassing. She just liked singing, and sharing that with Doux felt special.

Potato mashing was a fun way to let off steam, Douxie had found. The more anger you let out on the potato, the better it was. Reminded him of back when Merlin would put him on kitchen duty for a day as punishment. He took out his frustrations on the potatoes then too. The old kitchen master encouraged it. After Douxie mashed those potatoes for her, Y/n added in the flower and salt, and began kneading the dough. Now Y/n didn’t know about mash potatoes for anger management but dough kneading was where it’s at. This was just gnocchi dough though, so it wasn’t worked too hard.

Now for the fun part, making the shapes. Now you could just go with the normal fork rolled gnocchi, but where’s the creativity in that. No, Douxie and Y/n liked to have little competitions of who could come up with the coolest looking gnocchi shape whenever they made this recipe. This time, Douxie won by making his dough ball into the form of a little rat, a tip of the hat to this glorious city they were in, and Y/n lost her shit. She wouldn’t let him make any more though, they didn’t need to be eating rat soup. That would be disrespectful to ratatouille.

Eventually, Y/n did start standing around stirring the pot of broth, and Douxie got his blessed hug from behind opportunity. Yep, this was just as good as he dreamed it would be. He got to watch what she was doing from over her shoulder, pepper her neck in kisses, and every now and then she’d turn to grab his face and kiss him too. At one point, tired of the short pecks, Y/n fully turned around, throwing her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a more serious kiss. Y/n was obviously the more forward one in this relationship, but it still took Douxie by surprise every time. A good surprise, the best kind even. Each and every kiss they shared became the new favorite moment of his life, this one was no exception. Their lips moved together slowly, taking the time to savor every second of each other’s presence. Maybe a little too much. They didn’t pull apart until they heard Archie make a gagging noise. Y/n laughed as she turned back to the soup. Douxie shot Archie an angry glare before going back to his place over her shoulder. Yes, this was the most perfect way to spend an evening, rude dragon-cats aside. The soup smelled heavenly. But he didn’t want it to be ready quite so soon. Soup could wait, cuddles were priority right now.

But of course, the soup did finish cooking, and the lovebirds had to separate. Y/n though it was adorable how disgruntled Douxie was at this development. Actually eating the soup cheered him right back up however. It was delicious, It was the best soup they’d ever made. Must be the love. And the cuddles. Yeah, that’s what made it so tasty. This was honeymoon soup.

After dinner, Y/n got to work on the sweet rolls. After kneading the dough one last time and rolling it out, she let Nari help her place the filling and roll em up. The little goddess thought rolling up the dough was entertaining, and she liked how the end result looked like little roses. After putting the bake in the oven, Y/n gravitated over to that floor to ceiling window.

The city never slept, and it was just as abuzz as it was during the day, if not busier. Y/n sat cross-legged on the floor, gazing out at it all. Headlights of cars flew by. Pedestrians strolled with their shopping bags, bundled up in coats and scarves. Every moment passed was the present, and then suddenly it was the past. Y/n couldn’t tell the future. She couldn’t guess what person or car she would see next, and who knows what or who will walk by in this city, New York. There was a way to expect it and yet no way to know for sure.

The oven timer dinged, and Y/n got up to take the rolls out. The sugary smell filled the apartment. Y/n tried to swat Nari’s hand away from the just-out-of-the-oven pastries, but turns out the heat didn’t affect the veggie lady’s hands at all. Nari had heat resistant paws. Y/n supposed that probably came in handy dealing with that other Order member that was all fiery. Douxie was the real one she had to watch. It seemed he never got past the moppet stage of not thinking about the consequences of putting a molten hot sweet roll in his mouth. And he was good at sneaking them too, from all his years of doing so in the castle. Y/n rolled her eyes at his antics, but secretly thought it was cute. After the rolls had properly cooled, she took her own to-go as she found herself pulled back to that window once again.

Y/n ate her plum roll, watching it all, thinking about the future that was simultaneously always present and never coming. Y/n felt Douxie sit beside her, silently. He had yet to say a word to her after a few seconds, so she scooted a little closer to him so she could lay her head on his shoulder. Soon she felt his arm wrap around her, pulling her in tighter against him. Y/n waited another beat before speaking up, “Hey,”

“Hey.”

“I was wondering.” She said slowly.

“Yeah?”

“What happens after this?”

Douxie was taken off guard. He cleared his throat, “uhhh, I-”

“Like assuming we ever do defeat the order, which we will,” Douxie smiled at her confidence, “what’s next for us, Dewdrop?”

Doux had to take a moment to think. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about this himself, and if anything being able to give Y/n a good future consumed a lot of his thoughts, but he’d never been able to find a plan he felt like he could stick with. “I- I don’t know, Love. I’m sure we could return to Arcadia, if that would be something you would want. I’d never really settled down anywhere before that little town. And, I think, I’d want to go back.” Douxie’s eyes stared unblinking into the city lights, “It’s home now. In a perfect ending where everything resets when the war’s over, that is.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “We’ll have to wait and see. Things never really stay the same for long. Even if we can’t go back, we’ll find home somewhere. We’ll go home.”

Y/n pulled her legs out from under her, bringing them in close to her chest. “It is something I would want. Take me home, Hisirdoux. Is that a promise?”

Douxie took her hand and kissed her knuckles, “That’s a promise.”

The silence enveloped them once again. Stars knew how long they sat there, looking out in silence. Y/n practically fell asleep leaning on Doux. She yawned really big and Douxie smiled fondly as he got up, taking care to not disturb her too much as he scooped her up bridal style. “Come on Love, let’s go to bed.”

After gently placing Y/n in bed and snuggling in with her, Douxie let himself savor this now mundane moment between them. It was strange to think that just last month this simple thing would have short circuited him. He heard her giggle sleepily and raised an eyebrow.

“If we ever rebuild the bookshop, I want,,” She trailed off. Now Douxie was curious.

“Yes?” He further prompted.

“I want to make half of it a tea room, can we do that?”

“I- yeah I can certainly see about that.”

Y/n giggled again, “With fancy teacups?” she said groggily.

Douxie smiled, humoring her, “With fancy teacups.”

“Aannddd. And. Maybe,,” she whispered, “a baby.”

Douxie took in a sharp breath. Wow. He tried his best to keep his voice from cracking, “and a baby.” He wasn’t sure if Y/n even heard him as she was now snoring in his arms. A baby. He’d give her every baby she wanted. Raise a whole brood of moppets. Or just the one. Or none if she changed her mind. He’d be happy either way. But there was something about the thought of her wanting to have a baby with him that just made his whole face flush. He probably wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight now. Douxie was anything but new to insomnia, but he’d never had such a sweet thing to be the cause of it before. His heart was going to melt. He pressed a kiss to Y/n’s hair. Yeah, he would be happy to melt here with her.

~~~

No early start to this day. Y/n didn’t have many things planned, so sleeping in was the main event of the morning. Douxie was completely okay with that, encouraged it even. He rarely got a day off to sleep in. And with Y/n in his arms? It was that much sweeter. But eventually they did leave the house, grabbing some leftover plum rolls on their way out for breakfast. They couldn’t just keep Nari indoors, it didn’t take long for her to get antsy. There was still plenty of things to do and see in New York so off they went.

First stop of the day, the flat iron building. They stood on the sidewalk across the street from it, the crowd instinctually parting to walk around them without caring.

“look at it. It’s triangular.”

“It, it sure is.” Douxie kinda looked to the side, unsure of how he was supposed to be reacting.

“Yeah I didn’t know what I was expecting.” Back in the subway and on to the market then.

Specifically Chelsea Market. Douxie got a weird feeling as he walked through the doors. Strange, he felt like they were being watched. Which of course they were, they were in one of the most populous cities in America after all. But like, a different, more sinister feeling of being watched. He brushed it off.

They wandered through the shops for quite a while. Y/n and Archie had decided that they needed to see everything that the market had to offer before they picked something. Douxie was just hungry. These damn foodies he lived with were always making him wait for lunch. Just pick something. Food was food. Most of the time he could say no to Archie but there was no way he could say no to his wife, ever. He had to work on that.

One of the signs caught Y/n’s eye immediately, Fat Witch Bakery. Well, they couldn’t not check that out. Once inside, they discovered the little shop exclusively sold brownies. Good brownies at that. Douxie wasn’t found of brownies, or anything chocolate flavored, but he had a couple bites of Y/n’s. It was okay, one of the better chocolate things he’d had. Y/n scarfed the rest down.

“Mmmm, good thing we don’t live here, or I’d be a fat witch myself in no time.”

A lot of the market was decorated for Christmas already, despite it being October. The lights were pretty. Y/n was disgruntled they skipped Halloween though. Douxie had to laugh at her little pout when she complained about it. She really was the cutest thing on the planet. He couldn’t help teasing her about it, which she responded with mock anger. He gave her a quick peck to help placate her. It worked.

They came across a seafood place and suddenly Archie was done looking around. It was nice to have some fresh fish, as they were on the coast. Archie missed that about California. All this traveling inland was depriving him of his proper seafood diet. Dragons like him could only eat so many hamburgers before they got sick of it. Fresh caught fish was the best food that existed.

After finally having lunch, it was time to head over to the next sight-see. Grand Central Station. They had nowhere to be, no reason to use the station for its intended purpose. Douxie guessed this was just another thing Y/n wanted to stand in and look at. He didn’t quite get it himself, but he thought it was adorable that Y/n had so many things she wanted to see, so much of the world she wanted to touch. He wanted to take her everywhere. He was old, and had seen so many things that not much amazed him anymore, but not her, the world was still magic in her eyes. He loved seeing that twinkle in her eyes, made him feel like he was shiny and new too.

Douxie posed with Archie in front of a clock for Y/n in the station. Doux stuck out his tongue, giving her the sign of the horns while Archie stood on his shoulder, trying to look tough. She snickered as she took the shot of her boys. She took photos everywhere they went. Not of the tourist destinations, per se, but of Douxie, Archie, Nari, interacting with them. Her family, having fun. Good memories to be stored. She was slowly rebuilding her association with the word family into something positive. Every passing day, her past felt like more of a bad dream. The future may be uncertain, but at least there would be love in it.

Nari wanted to go visit Central Park again. There was a petunia in one of the gardens was a particularly good conversationalist, and Nari wanted to ask them how their day had been. The park was a great way to spend the afternoon, so of course they’d indulge the veggie lady without qualm. Y/n was looking forward to getting to explore more of the park they didn’t see last time.

As they were walking around a corner, on their way to said park. Douxie got that strange feeling once again. They were being watched. He tried not to let it show. He didn’t need Y/n to worry, and he was confident he could take care of whatever it was that was making him feel this way. He was Hisirdoux Casperan, successor of Merlin Ambrosius and currently the most powerful wizard alive. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to protect his family. If whatever was stalking them dared to show its face, he’d be ready.

There was a scruffy man on the street corner, shouting about the end of the world.

“The world’s gonna end, we’re all gonna die!”

This man wasn’t completely crazy, but it’s not like he actually knew what was going on in the world of magic. Douxie tossed him a coin.

“Not on my watch.”

#douxie x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie casperan x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux casperan imagine #douxie x y/n #hisirdoux x reader #tales of arcadia x reader #tales of arcadia imagine #douxie #hisirdoux casperan #nert #my writing

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purplerose244 · 4 years ago

Text

My thoughts on Seabound!!! 🌊🌊🌊 (3/4)

SPOILERS ALERT!!!

Yep yep yep, I'm liking this season a lot! 😍 Although I hope we'll get into a more frantic situation now, like with more battles and more bonding moments (Nya and Maya hopefully, but with Bentho too 🦈🦈🦈)! We got half a season to go, I'M READY!! 😎😎

Alright, here we go!

GENERAL THOUGHTS

I do like the season a lot, maybe MoM was a little more cohesive? Idk but it's not a big complain, I still love it so far 😍

Also maybe I would've liked more interactions between Nya and Maya about how they've been apart for so long, they had a chit chat but I would've loved even more. Maybe with Nya saying that it was fine and she grew up only to realize she is still hurt by that, even though it wasn't Maya's fault. I still like how they did it, I wished there was more that's it 🤷‍♀️

While I do make sense to Maya's behavior, that while it seems a little different from Hands of Time it had its logic in my opinion, maybe Ray feels a little weird? He seems less courageous than before, and it was established that he is a hothead like his son so that came off as unusual 🤔🤔

But I do love the fact that he's here and he's bonding with his son, for real, I've been waiting for this for so long so I'm happy nonetheless 🤩

Maybe I'm just easy to please and I take all I can get idk 😅

THE STORM AMULET

Oh, are we gonna address the wind element? It feels like we haven't really seen a Morro reference since Hands of Time, that would be cool! 😍 I mean, why even mentioning the wind then 😅😅

Well what do you know, they tracked them, who saw that coming?... me, I saw that coming... we all did probably 🤷‍♀️

Jay took upon himself making a quick recap on how Ninjago will be destroyed this time, thanks Bluebell 👌

Yep nyeheh electricity makes Nya go crazy for sure ❤💙 ... wait it wasn't a Jaya pun?

Jay wear your seatbelt please, you risk you life enough 😅😅 Pff lol "are we there yet" and they are actually there, biggest plot twist I've ever heard of 😂

LEGO HUG 💜💜💜

And with someone who might as well join the League of Jay apparently 💙

I liked The Island yet it was not as exciting as I hoped for, but now understand the meaning of it. The ninja helped the keepers and they are all allies. Without The Island the moment where Mammatus gives Nya the amulet wouldn't be as meaningful

Is it just me or Nya looked even more gorgeous during that moment?... just me huh? Okay then 😂💕

Wait that's a fake? Wait... UNCLE POWERS?!? OMG THAT I ACTUALLY DIDN'T SEE COMING 🤯

Here I thought he was just messing around, he always makes things harder 😅 Or maybe better? I mean, they kinda missed a bullet on this one...

BENTHO IS SO SWEET AND COOL OMG HE IS ALREADY OUR FRIEND 💙🦈💙🦈

Jay somehow had his own TV show in the past and yet he's got that horrible acting skills wth 😂😂😂

Kalmaar is a very cool villain, like, deeply evil. Not only he's calculated and merciless, he stops at nothing to get what he wants. And the people that get in the way? He wants them to suffer because they had dared to confront him 😳

And yes the voice does help a lot, I'm sorry I'll keep saying it until the season is over 😂 (or even beyond? Please cast Giles again LEGO 🥺🥺🥺)

Awww Nya no my poor girl 😢 Jay wanted to hug her to comfort her he is so sweet my SHIP ❤💙❤💙

MOM PEP TALK MOM PEP TALK!!! 🤩🤩🤩 How cool was it?

Like, this isn't even Maya asking Nya to believe in herself, this is her saying that she KNOWS her daughter can do anything when she puts her mind into it. FINALLY SHE SEES HOW AMAZING WATER GODDESS IS 💜💜💜

MORE LEGO TEARS OMG THIS SEASON IS FILLED WITH TEARS 😱 Which... kinda makes sense considering it's a water based season 😂

Nice one, and now? NOW WE GO BACK TO KAI COLE AND RAY YAS!!! ❤🖤❤🖤

RIDDLE OF THE SPHINX

That is... surprisingly Egypt theme like? It feels like a title coming from the Fire Chapter of season 11... well we got two fire elementals so 😍😍

SPARRING KAI AND RAY

I REPEAT SPARRING KAI AND RAY!!! SPARRING KAI AND RAY!!! ❤❤❤ Lol Ray got old, but how can someone blame him? He did touch death while aging in Hands of Time, I'm just happy he is alive 😂

Yep, master prankster Wu, that's what I love 👌👌 I always thought Wu had become a father figure for Kai at the beginning, so seeing Ray and Wu in the same picture feels very wholesome to me 😚

Ah, uncle Powers, I both love you and hate you so freaking much 😌😌 But you make cool slides nonetheless 😂

ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME WITH BEAUTIFUL SMITH INTERACTIONS??

BECAUSE I LIKE IT KEEP GOING 🤩

Oh no you guys are stranded on an island whatever are you going to do?? It's not like you had already before and managed to survive (Skybound) or you got stranded on a rock in a sea of sand filled with giant monsters (Fire Chapter) or you were on a freaking COMET in SPACE (Rebooted). Yeee, this is the worst yet 🙂

I'm starting to think these ninja are just a bunch of drama queens so no matter what happens, it's always hopeless 😂😂 I feel like I'm kinda right on this one honestly 😛

Whoa whoa WHOA WHO IS NYAD THIS SOUNDS VERY COOL???

Aww I like that, while Ray told his kids stories about dragons and how they traveled through the Underworld, Maya told them about Nya the first water master that could summon whales 💙❤💙❤

Pff imagine if it turned out Nya was the master of fire, carrying a very water based name? Lol

Maya: I would know if it was possible!

Nya: Yeah, like she knows that I can control a bit of ice because it's frozen water

Maya:...

Maya: YOU WHAT

I find both interesting and very annoying that this explorers club thinks so highly of themselves, to the point the deny to aid even the FREAKING SAVIORS OF THEIR FREAKING LAND 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

Misako got good reflexes after all, Kai was probably ready to melt this guy's face 😅

Oh, so a trial by Sphinx is a challenge? A mental one? A cultural one? A physical one? Idk but Misako is actually taking charge and that is cool I guess 🤷‍♀️

Okay this is kind of weird, how is Ray so afraid? Is it because there's fire?... did he... did he grow afraid of fire for some reason? Because it feels a bit off for now, but if there is a deeper meaning that could be interesting 🤔

Wait is that the riddle from Decoded? That's fire right?

IT IS FIRE 🔥🔥🔥

Lol at least in this one Kai wasn't completely ignored 😂 I know my flame babe isn't the most rational person, but I do like that it was an answer connected to his element where he used his head!

Ah Clutch, you really got no backbone 😅 And apparently you're the only explorer who doesn't, dang look at the others go! I'm having a bit more respect for them now 😚

LOOK AT SENSEI GO FINALLY!!! 😍😍 FIGHTING SCENES HECK YES!!!

Kalmaar: I'm your conquerer

Wu: so after skeletons, the serpentine, nindroids, the Stone Army, Chen's army, ghosts, oni, more snakes but on fire and people from a game, that makes you the tenth. Have a free cookie

Kalmaar:...

Wu: you're not special

Is this a little throwback to Possession too? Nya seems to always control better water when she doesn't actually think about it. When her feelings are free, so are her powers 🌊🌊🌊

Also this opens up more possibilities! Creatures connected with other elements might get summoned too! I would love something like that 😍😍

This was NEAT, or maybe I just missed Kai that much ❤ What's next??

PAPERGIRL

ANTONIAAAAAAAA!!!! MY GIRL IS BACK!!! All my girls are back in this season, I'm so happy 😍😍😍 And if she is here, sweet little Nelson has to be around and I cannot wait! Bring in the purple ninja! 💜

Owww Antonia's last day as a papergirl? Nooo why??

She's got a job at the... DAIRY DRAGON??? OMG OMG OMG IT'S THE ICE CREAM PLACE BRAGI TOLD US ABOUT ON TWITTER!!! 🤩🤩🤩 I remember the post, he was asking about names for the place and ice cream flavors. Now I can't wait to see what did he choose 🍦🍦🍦

UNAGAMI BABY HI HONEY!!! 🙋‍♀️ I hope he's doing great 😘😘

This is so cool honestly, Antonia got her own character arc going on! Living in a chaotic city like Ninjago City must be pretty dang exhausting 😅

Was... was that Dareth in the garbage can? Am I wrong? Poor brown ninja 😅🤎😅

SPINJITZU SWIRL, BANANAKHAN, ORANGE SERPENTINE, I'M DYING 😂😂😂

Their friendship is so wholesome, I'm so happy they are still together no matter what happens 💕

I thought Kalmaar wasn't much of a fighter but DANG he's got skills! Also the fact that he uses tentacles makes the fight very cool to watch! 😚😚

RAY RUNNING IN AFTER KAI GOT HURT HECK YES ❤❤❤

Well at least you tried Ray 😅

Ah, little cameo of the original Weekend Whip, always nice to hear it again... AND DO THE WEEKEND WHIP!!! 🌪🌪🌪

EVEN NELSON GOT CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT I'M SO PROUD 💜

I don't even know what is cooler, the kids being mad lads on their bikes, Kalmaar driving a TRUCK or Kai going full parkour on the buildings to follow them 🤯

I'm sorry... am I the only one that during the Kai and Kalmaar talk kinda thought of Jestro and Clay? I miss my boys from NK, they're even more at odds now 😭😭

KAI YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE OR EVEN TRY TO DIE GET BACK HERE AT ONCE 😱😱

Kalmaar just loves to make everyone feel inferior, gotta be his hobby 😶

Oh good Kai is back

OH NOT GOOD KAI IS NOT BREATHING?!? FLAME BABE I TOLD YOU YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE 😱😱😱

Antonia, Nelson, you guys are now my heroes. You saved my fave, I'll be forever in dept with you ❤❤❤ Am I being overdramatic? Most likely, but Kai is one of the few that didn't almost die or did die in a dramatic situation and he is also my absolute favorite character so that... kinda keeps my sanity in check in this show 🥴

I wonder... does he still not know how to swim? He saved Lloyd in Possession but I wonder if he was only trying to float on the surface... THAT'S TERRIFYING

This episode was so adorable, I love Antonia and Nelson so much 💜💕💜💕 It's nice to see what the other people of Ninjago do while everything goes mad 🤣

Wait hang on my Ninjajan is a little rusty

"Ninjago City. City that never sleeps" well if that ain't the truth 😂

MASTER OF THE SEA

Like Master of the Mountain? Wait are we going back to Shintaro?? VANYA?? ANOTHER BEST GIRL RETURNS??? 💛

Hey hey hey, we got a full Nyad backstory! I really like when they do these little drawn shots, they feel more like legends! And... the ending sounds terrifying? Like, they wouldn't let Nya sacrifice herself and die... again... right? 😱

Bentho: and the world was in balance, until now because of my brother

Lloyd: and the Overlord before of course

Bentho: the what now?

Lloyd: the evil one my grandpa the first Spinjitzu Master fought?

Bentho: YOUR WHAT NOW

Why do I like this offscreen "hiiiyaaa" that sensei Wu does before actually going into the scene? 😂😂

No matter if they come from the underground or the sea, these are all snake-like creature with the same intellect 😅 Kalmaar and Garmadon would have a lot to talk about, sea king dealing with his minions does remind me of Lord Garmadon in season 2 a lot 😂😂

KAI AND RAY FIGHTING TOGETHER KAI AND RAY FIGHTING TOGETHER ❤🔥❤🔥❤🔥❤🔥❤

OMG Kalmaar is such a brat and petty villain I love him so much 😂😂😂 Yes I didn't even mention his amazing voice!... AH DANG IT 😳😳

*Misako kicks Kalmaar and is actually useful* 🙆‍♀️🙆‍♀️🙆‍♀️

*Misako gets taken as hostage immediately after* 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

KAI LITERALLY JUST GOT SAVED FROM DROWNING WHY MUST YOU DO THIS TO HIM!!!... and Ray and Cole and Wu of course, I care okay 😅

OMG that face 🤣🤣🤣

That some meme material right there

Whoa Vincent that voice just got super up when the Unsinkable showed up, it kinda sounded like Jay's lol

NO NOT BENTHO!!! 😢😢😢

Kai: Nya talks to whales now? (I snorted so hard at this 😂😂)

HECK YES NYA GOT THE AMULET!! 😍😍😍 ... we got, like, four more episodes to go so something needs to happen in between... do I need to be scared? I feel like I need to be scared 😅

Jay starting a fire then blaming Kai?... this is so in character I got chills 😂😂

SHARK BOY IS STAYING TO THE MONASTERY THIS IS SO PRECIOUS!!! 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩 I want all the shenanigans and we need to write fanfictions about more shenanigans and AAAAHHHHH 🦈🦈🦈

Bless these two fire idiots

They own my heart ❤🔥❤🔥 Also Vincent, this is supposed to be a fun little gag moment, your amazing voice acting is kinda distracting me 😭😭😭

ANOTHER LEGO HUG

YOU GUYS ARE SPOILING ME OVER HERE HECK YES 💙🌊💙🌊

Maya learned that her daughter is capable of everything, I love that. Nya simply understood that she doesn't have to give up when something gets difficult. She is AMAZING and can do anything she puts her mind into. She simply has to hold on until the end 💪💪💪

Omg Benthomaar playing billiard with the guys I already love this 😍😍

YES IT IS SHINTARO!!! THE UPPLY ARE HERE OMG!!! HI VANYA YOU LOOK AMAZING GIRL MISS YOU I HOPE YOU'RE DOING OKAY!!! 💛💛💛 ... I just really like Master of the Mountain okay 😅

I love how Vanya doesn't even question it. It comes from Cole and he said it needs to be protected? Done and done 👌

Wait what, did something fall?

IS THAT THE FAKE?!?!? WHAT HOW WHEN??? UNCLE POWERS??? OR KALMAAR DID SOMETHING??? SOMEONE??? I'M LEGIT CONFUSED AND EXCITED??? 🤯🤯🤯

Well dang, I didn't see that coming, now what Seabound? What do you have for me?

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