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puff-mmd · 6 months ago

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Mermay au for kaisei and ciro thoughts

Basics:

Kaisei is a prince of an underwater kingdom. His mother is the queen, and his father was killed by humans. As such, kaisei's mother is extremely protective of her only son, and harbors a deep disdain for humans.

Kaisei retains his cheerfulness and is a curious merman who loves to watch storms as they pass along the ocean waves. The lightning, rolling clouds, and pounding rain and thunder captivate him, and there's nothing he loves more than swimming around just beneath the surface and watching the lightning as if they were fireworks.

I think Yoai is actually also a mermaid in this au. She works as their royal seamstress, and she's always miffed about kaisei forgoing her clothes when he is out and about exploring.

"What do you mean constricting? I made this top with the most breathable seaweed for a hundred miles!!"

Yakumo is kinda like a villain but not really? He makes spells and potions and such, some legal, some...not. one of those happens to be a potion that can turn a human into a mermaid.

Now i wonder who might be interested in that.

Anyways

Ciro is a human here. He is a tailor who on his way to a new kingdom with his parents and sister (he was recognized for his talents by a king across the sea and offered a job working as a clothing designer), is accidentally tossed overboard during a storm.

Unfortunately for him, he doesn't know how to swim.

Kaisei, who of course has found his way near the surface to watch the storm, is shocked when he sees a young man lose his balance aboard a ship and fall into the water.

He hesitates, knowing he's a human.

Until he sees the man sinking deeper as he flails to catch footing in an ever-changing hellscape before going limp.

Without thinking, every muscle in his body propels him forward to the drowning man, and he pulls him up to the surface. Nearby is a shoreline, though it is a long ways away...

Nonetheless, kaisei pulls the man towards land until his arms are sore and tail can barely move. As he uses his last bit of energy to lay the man on the sand, he lays next to him, and passes out himself from exhaustion.

When he awakes, he hears spluttering and coughs. He sees the man he saved laying on his side, propped up on one hand, coughing out seawater. He's still tired, so tired, and doesn't bother moving away. Instead, he takes in the features he can see of the man.

His white dress shirt clings to his skin, translucent and hugging his petite, but muscular figure. Short blonde locks stick to his neck and side of face. Kaisei can make out his profile, defined by the delicate curves of his lips, nose, and brow bone. As the man gasps and takes in gulps of air, he turns to face Kaisei.

Eyes the color of the sea on a perfect summer morning meet his own and widen in surprise.

After the shock of seeing a real live mermaid before him passes, the man (who kaisei learns goes by the name of ciro) promptly thanks him for saving his life.

Ciro cannot help but notice the brightly colored tail, soft flowing fins, and gills that breathe in air, even out of the water. He inquires about Kaisei's ability to breathe on the surface for so long without perishing himself, to which he replies that he and other mermaids are able to breathe in water and air. The only thing is, they cannot walk on the surface like humans do - for obvious reasons.

Cue a flip of kaisei's tail to make his point clear.

As much as he would love to stay and learn more about mermaids and all these things that he once knew as fantastical stories from childhood, ciro bids goodbye in search of his family that may or may not believe him to be dead.

However, he asks if it's possible to see him again - after all, he has many questions about merfolk. Those stories from his childhood had gripped him ever since, and have inspired countless designs as a clothing designer. Now learning that it was all real? He could never pass up an opportunity to learn more about them.

Kaisei, somewhat blinded by the dazzling looks and sweet demeanor, agrees to meet him again.

And so begins the affairs of a simple human and the merman prince that falls in love with him.

Basically from there, ciro often meets kaisei on that shoreline to talk to him. He brings his sketchbook in which he makes his designs for clothing, and with kaisei's permission, sketches clothes inspired by his exotic appearance.

Kaisei quickly catches on however, that clothes are not the only thing he sketches.

One day as ciro looks up at him briefly before returning to work in the sketchbook, his curiosity gets the better of him and he peeks at the drawing before it's finished. And what he sees, well.

He wasn't expecting to see a replication of himself on the dry paper.

Ciro looks at him sheepishly, quietly apologizing. He couldn't help but want to depict such a beautiful man with his own pencil.

I imagine another scene if the two of them lying together on the beach, the world bathed in sunset colors. Kaisei is cuddled up to ciro, his tail weaving around human legs as they hold each other.

"Ciro?"

"Hm? What is it?"

"How do you humans know..."

Fingers stroke the soft fins protruding from the arm laid across his stomach.

"When you're in love?"

"I would imagine it wouldn't be much different from how you know."

Trailing up from the fin, ciro takes hold of the back of Kaisei's neck, and pulls him in for a soft kiss.

"You're right, it isn't so different after all."

I imagine at some point, ciro's sister has trailed him at some point to see where on earth he is going in his little free time, and sees kaisei. He doesn't approach them right away, instead asking ciro about it when he returns.

She asks to meet kaisei, but ciro insists that he needs to ask him first. He knows by now how much mermaids steer clear of humans, and that their relationship is far from normal.

Kaisei is hesitant, but allows ciro to bring her with him. They both make her promise to keep his existence a secret, to keep him safe.

She promises, but...

During their time together on the shore, kaisei also learns that ciro is...less than satisfied with life as a human. Kaisei never deluded himself that the human world was much better than that of the merfolk, but for ciro, it was simply dull compared to the fantasies of his childhood. He had a job that helped him support his family and was something he did enjoy, but outside of that, he never really felt fulfilled.

That is, until he had met kaisei.

Someone who brought liveliness and color into his life. Who encouraged him to conquer his fears of water and taught him to swim, who told stories of an unknown world that flourished beneath the very waves mankind traveled with dread.

Someone who offers that there is a way for ciro to join that world, were to choose it.

kaisei going to yakumo for a potion that could turn a human into a mermaid gets out (of course it does, yakumo is jealous that a mere human had captured kaisei's affections) so he probably snitched on him without letting it be known that he's the one who supplied the potion in the first place

(he has a hard time saying no to kaisei)

but his mom is livid.

she is begging him not to use it, she cannot stand the thought of a disgusting human using her own son's blood and scales to become one of them. after what happened to her husband, how could she?

after all, there are so many suitors who would give up everything to be kaisei's lover - why across all the seven seas would he choose a human?

and so against his mother's wishes, kaisei seeks out ciro with the potion. the next they meet, he shows it to ciro and explains that if he truly wanted to leave behind the human world and join him, this was his ticket to do so.

and despite ciro's strong love for kaisei and equally strong desire to flee his dull life, he hesitates.

what would his family do without him, after all?

could he allow himself to be selfish in such an irreversible way as this?

oh my god, what if this time, ciro's family does show up, but they're brought a band of fishers.

fishers with one thing on their mind - money.

and so ciro is forced to make that choice quickly; sacrifice his lover and key to life underwater where he had wished to be since he was a child, or betray his family and flee with kaisei underwater?

it is almost made for him in that moment.

ciro, who had lived selflessly for his family his whole life, chooses his own dreams and happiness.

kaisei takes him out and under the sea, out of the reach of the hunters that attempt to pursue them, and he must drink the potion quickly - he cannot breathe underwater as a human still.

lazy ending and so ciro transforms into a mermaid and he and kaisei live happily ever after idk

#oc #oc rambles #ciro #kaisei #mermay au #might workshop this might not but enjoy this brain dump nevertheless

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bluejay-in-write · 8 months ago

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👀 (spill the tea twin)

Back again to ramble at youuu <333

Send 👀 and I'll tell you some OC Lore

Okay so idk if this is a spoiler or not but idk when I'll get to actually writing this so ya'll get to know early but the two of my Atla Ocs have the funniest fucking relationship/first meeting that I think I might've ever written so I'm gonna ramble at y'all about that! (Sorry Eli I know you already know this but it's too funny so I have to share with the class also adding a read more cause just realized this is gonna be hella long)

So when I first started working on my Atla story I knew that ofc I had to have my own version of the gaang cause tbh I love creating oc groups and this was the perfect excuse to do one. At this point I only really had an idea for my oc Aisha who was the main reason for me starting the Atla fic but we're not gonna get into her here cause this is about Ryuu and Himari! Eventually I realized that I wanted my fic Winds Of Change to be more in depth about how the 100 year war changed every day people's lives in ways that might not have been touched on in depth in the show as well as how they work to heal from it after the war ended. (Which by the way is absolutely amazing no notes from me it was actually so difficult for me to come up with a story for this fandom at first because of that reason)

So the story takes place almost a year after the war has ended and everyone is holding their breath as the year anniversary of the end of the war inches ever closer. Some more than others... for example there is Ryuu who was raised in Caldera City the capital city of the fire nation till he was around 6 (don't hold me to that still figuring out ages) when his Father was killed in action.

After that Ryuu's Mother moved them to Ember Island to live full time at their beach house. She then took over his teaching keeping him home schooled where instead of spreading the indoctrination that was common in most Fire Nation schools she taught him about the Fire Nation before the war. From that point on Ryuu learned to value peace over war and recognizing the Fire Nations false teachings all while making sure not to reveal his and his mother's true opinions about "Fire Nation Supremacy".

Over time he also grew attached to the idea of pacifism refusing to fight even in jest realizing that no good can come from doing harm all the while still naive about the true harm that the Fire Nation was causing to the other nations. While his Mother did her best to inform him the best she could and make him question everything little did he know that she continued to shelter him from much in her own way.

It wasn't until one regular Summers day when everything he thought he knew came into question. They decided to get out of the heat by visiting a cave system that would give them some shade but it wasn't as steady as they thought. As the rocks above Ryuu's Mother began to fall instinctively he called upon something deep inside him and bent the rocks around her to save his mother's life.

Only then did he finally find out the truth of his birth he was a child of the earth kingdom that had been rescued as a baby when his father had found him abandoned in the middle of a siege. His father than took him home to his wife who was already pregnant with child, planning to raise them as "twins". Sadly the unborn did not make it and so they raised Ryuu as their one and only son, explaining his size away with the excuse of him being a fast grower. When they had found him he had a light green knitted blanket wrapped around his form the only design being a name stitched in the center, Riku. Seeing as they couldn't give him a earth kingdom name but still wanting to honor his parents (who his Father assumed perished in the war) they decided to name him Ryuu instead, a name meaning dragon and noble.

(This was wayyy longer than I anticipated so if you made it this far I thank you! And because it got way too long I decided that it was best to do another post about Himari and their connection so if anyone is interested lemme know! Also to be clear there is no romantic relationship between them whatsoever if anyone was worried about that.)

#fic: winds of change #oc: ryuu #answered #stridingseer

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sapientiiae · 5 months ago

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@hyruleanlegends asked: [ reunion ] a longing kiss shared after being apart for a while different ways to kiss someone

The battle had not gone according to plan. When Zelda had followed Lana through the portal, they found themselves in Hyrule Field, although this was not the Hyrule of her time. They’d found Hyrule in various states of disorder over the past battles, but this sight was undoubtedly the most jarring. Shadows of an unknown source had spread over the kingdom, and Lana had informed them it stemmed from the Twilight Realm.

While not all parts of the field were shrouded in Twilight, the areas that were proved to be the most dangerous, with black creatures unlike anything Zelda had ever seen lurking about.

Several barriers had been built up from the Twilight, blocking access to other regions of the field. The generation of a new barrier was how Zelda found herself separated from Impa, the barricade cleaving the path to get back to one another.

That wouldn’t have been so alarming if the battle had gone in their favor. However, they were outnumbered, and Lana had insisted they flee until they could recoup with their forces that had stepped through their own portals. But without any way to break through the latest Twilight barrier that had appeared, she’d been forced to leave Impa and any troops trapped on her side behind.

The days that had spanned after that battle were agony for the princess — all she could think was she’d abandoned her men and the woman she held most dear to her. She’d done anything and everything she could around the base camp they’d created to keep herself busy in the passing days, rather than allowing herself to dwell over what happened. Besides, the more she helped, the quicker they could return to the Twilight field and hopefully reconvene with the rest of their battalion.

With Link having returned to their side, they’d been more successful. The Princess of Hyrule had fought with all her might alongside him, slashing through their enemies and finding ways around the Twilight barriers that had previously stumped them.

However, with no sight of the troops they’d been severed from, the army’s leader thought all hope might have been lost — until she saw a Giant’s Knife suddenly slice through one of their opponents across the field. There was only one woman she knew that was strong enough to wield such a blade: Impa.

With a newfound motivation, Zelda moved more rapidly across the field, alternating between her Gleaming Rapier and light arrows, eliminating any foes that stood in her way. Together her and her troops cleared their half of the battle field, closing in on those that remained with Impa and her squadron pushing from the other side. They’d fought like that until no enemies remained — they’d either perished or retreated to safety.

Now standing yards apart with no foes to get between them, Zelda hadn’t hesitated to break into a sprint to meet Impa. To her surprise, the Sheikah woman had moved to meet her half way. When they collided, they were a mass of tangled limbs, the relief in the princess’s chest enough to make her sob as she was once again reunited with the woman that laid claim to her heart.

She’d been so lost in finally being reunited with the Sheikah, her arms strong and comforting around the princess’s smaller frame, she hadn’t noticed the way Impa had slipped her fingers under Zelda’s chin, guiding the royal to tilt her head up until their lips met. It was with that contact that she was no longer able to hold back.

The Hylian leaned further into the taller woman, allowing herself to melt against Impa’s toned figure while her fingers moved to knot into her snow white strands. She’d had so many questions, but they all ceased to exist as Zelda poured herself into the Sheikah, kissing the other woman with an unmatched longing, having feared she might never get another chance.

#hyruleanlegends #long post cw #[ i'm so sorry i got carried away #I realized this was going to be too long but by then I was too far in and committed ]#the clear water’s surface reflects growth ⌈ ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴀsᴋs ⌋#i’ve been waiting for you ⌈ ǫᴜᴇᴜᴇ ⌋

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yellagalqotm-blog · 9 months ago

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This short story commemorating my fifty years of living in Central Florida is a both a snapshot of life in the "Sunshine State" during the 1970s as well as a nostalgic look at the trials and tribulations of a 10 year old still trying to figure out life. (Some names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent!)

August, 1974

“I heard my mama cry…I heard her pray the night Chicago died….” crooned the pop group Paper Lace over the tinny AM airwaves on our car radio.

Our 1968 Ford Falcon station wagon had been on the road for a couple of days and travelled over 2400 miles from Syracuse when we rolled into Altamonte Springs, Florida on that hot summer afternoon. My dad had just retired from the Air Force and we were moving to the “Sunshine State” after being stationed in New York the previous year.

I was ten years old at the time and having been born into a military family, I was well acquainted with the routine. Move to a new place, go to a strange school where I don’t know anyone, slowly start to make a few friends, Dad gets transferred, and the process starts all over again. By now, I’d already been to three elementary schools and was about to start at a fourth. But this time felt different. This was going to be our family’s final move - to Florida.

Even though I had previously lived in Florida for a year in 1968 with my mom and brother while my dad was deployed to Vietnam, I did not have too many memories of what the place was like as I was only four then. Now, my ten year old imagination was full of more recent secondhand tales I’d heard about Florida - mainly from tv and other kids.

All I knew about Florida was 1) it was full of alligators, 2) there were poisonous snakes everywhere, and 3) homes were regularly ripped apart by deadly hurricanes. Why on earth would anyone want to live there? And why were my parents making us move down to this awful place that sounded like hell on earth?

Speaking of my parents, they were in the front seat discussing the location of the Kentucky Fried Chicken where my Uncle Mike was going to meet us and guide us back to Aunt Mary’s house. Mary was my mother’s younger sister who had been living in Florida with her family for years. They seemed to have survived Florida’s hurricanes and dangerous creatures, so I figured we just might have a fighting chance.

I was the oldest of the four kids sitting in the back seat. Besides me, there was my brother Robert, a jokester who, like myself, enjoyed watching cartoons and drawing. My sister Laurie was the studious one who, when she didn’t have skates strapped on, had her nose in a book. The 3 year old clutching the Mrs. Beasley doll was my youngest sister Suzy.

As we got closer to our final destination, I stared out the window at our surroundings. We were approaching Altamonte Springs on Interstate 4, a long stretch of highway cutting through Central Florida. Cars zipped past us plastered in bumper stickers that promoted local radio stations like WLOF 95AM and BJ105 FM while others declared Orlando the “Vacation Kingdom.”

There were also lots of signs and billboards challenging us to “Arrive Alive.” To my somewhat morbid and overly imaginative young mind, this smacked of a cruel irony. Sure, Florida wants us to “Arrive Alive” so we can perish via a gator attack, snake bite or a killer hurricane!

Orlando’s Television and Radio Landscape

“If I had a box just for wishes and dreams that had never come true. The box would be empty except for the memory of how they were answered by you.” (Time in a Bottle by Jim Croce)

We soon got into the swing of things during those first couple of months. Because we still did not have a permanent residence, we lived with my Aunt Mary and her family. I remember it was a large, split level house where you enter through the front door and there was a flight of stairs taking you up to the living quarters and another flight taking you to the game room and two extra bedrooms downstairs. My siblings and I shared one of those rooms on that lower floor.

The main thing I remember about that downstairs area was the huge pool table. We’d never seen one in real life before and were fascinated. My dad and Uncle Mike patiently showed us how to handle the cues and which balls to aim for. I was never any good and I am still a lousy player to this day. But I love playing pool when I get the chance.

Another thing that enraptured me in particular was the air hockey table - especially the hum and the “whoosh” sound it made when it was turned on. Once while my aunt, uncle and cousins were out for the day, my siblings and I were bored and looking for something to do. Our attention turned to the air hockey table upon which sat a piece of notebook paper with the words “Out of Order” scrawled on it in a child’s handwriting.

This was no doubt that work of my oldest cousin, Matthew. I had an intense dislike of Matthew because, as he was a year older than me, he seemed to enjoy bossing all of us around and was consistently tattling on me. Being the oldest of four myself, I was not used to being the one tattled upon, so I found this new structure in the scheme of family dynamics quite upsetting indeed. The charges against me, according to Matthew, included: “Linda’s eating with her hands.” “Linda didn’t say thank you.” “Linda called Robert a name.”

Anyway, my dad saw my cousin’s note, tossed it aside in an air of disgust and plugged in the air hockey table. We enjoyed a few games before carefully putting everything back to the way it was afterwards.

Of course, the color television in that downstairs room was the main focal point for all of us kids, including our cousins. Central Florida television in the mid-1970s was a plethora of colorful, corny fun! Every day we tuned into our local UHF station - WSWB, channel 35.

A local children’s program called Uncle Hubie’s Penthouse Barnyard came on in the afternoons. Uncle Hubie, bedecked in a beat-up hat, overalls, a checked shirt and a bandana around his neck, was played by a gentleman by the name of Hugh Turley. I don’t remember much about the program other than the catchy, ragtime style theme song played on the piano. From what I gather, the premise of this show was that Uncle Hubie struck it rich and moved his entire barnyard, chicken coop included, to the top of some urban high-rise building. The only other things I recall were the cartoons shown and that Uncle Hubie’s mailing address was in Bithlo, Florida.

After the Uncle Hubie show, my brother Robert and our cousin Danny would excitedly tie bath towels around their necks and race towards the tv just in time to watch “Batman.” Pow! Biff! Wham!

Afterwards came one of my new favorites, “Lost in Space”. I had never seen it before and immediately became a huge fan of the series. I always wanted to be Penny Robinson and travel in space with my pet monkey….I mean Bloop. Next came “Star Trek”, where I was introduced to Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock, and phasers set on “stun.” Finally, our early evening television viewing was rounded out with “Mayberry R.F.D.”

Local radio in the mid-1970s boasted an interesting collection of stations. My favorite at the time was WLOF, 95 AM, which played mainly top 40 pop tunes. My mom was an avid listener of some of the early talk shows. Her favorite call-in talk show was an evening program hosted by a man named Mike Miller.

One day, not long after our arrival in Florida, I remember my dad threw all of us kids in the back of our station wagon and headed over to the local Kmart. I distinctly recall walking into the store barefoot, wearing my spaghetti strap green romper suit. It felt liberating not wearing any shoes and thinking that maybe Florida might not be such a bad place to live after all! But I had a feeling that if my mom knew we were traipsing through that store shoeless, she’d be mortified. But that worry quickly evaporated as we headed towards the electronics department.

It was there that Dad bought me my first transistor radio! It was a small, olive green Solid State that had a white wrist strap, a dial for tuning and a couple of knobs on the side for volume and for switching back and forth to AM and FM bands. Oddly enough, I can still remember the plastic, metallic smell that it had. I treasured that radio for a long time. Later on in my teen years, I would switch my radio station allegiance to WDIZ, an FM station based on Lee Road in Winter Park that played album rock.

Summertime: Pools and Peaches

“We had joy. We had fun. We had seasons in the sun. But the hills that we climbed were just seasons out of time…” (“Seasons in the Sun” by Terry Jacks)

One of the first things that hit us kids the moment we set foot in Florida was the searing heat. Florida wasn’t just hot, it was tropically hot. The humidity felt like a tangible lead weight pressing down on our small frames as if it was trying to drive us down into the sandy soil.

Playing outside was definitely off the table. My mother for years would constantly urge me to go outside and “knock a ball around” with my sister, only to be met with an incredulous stare. Me? Go OUTSIDE? You’ve GOT to be kidding! Of course, I never said that aloud. Instead, I’d just wail “It’s too HOT out there!”

Luckily, during those initial two months when we stayed with my Aunt Mary, we had access to something considered the Holy Grail to most kids: an in-ground, backyard swimming pool! A “cement pond” as the Clampetts of the “Beverly Hillbillies” would call it.

Sometimes we’d have to impatiently wait to use it because Uncle Mike needed to “shock” the pool. I used to think he threw a toaster or some other electrical appliance in there for some bizarre reason known only to adults. Of course, I’d eventually learn exactly what the pool shocking procedure entailed and why it was performed. But all we cared about at the time was getting our sweaty, overheated behinds into that lovely, cool, aquamarine water.

Both of our families spent many happy hours in that pool. My cousins, who were decent swimmers and daredevils, would show off and do jumps off the diving board. I didn’t know how to swim so I was happy to stay and paddle around in the shallow end.

I remember one day while we were out poolside, there was some talk on the radio about President Nixon and impeachment. But all I heard was the word “peach” being said hundreds of times, so I thought it had something to do with fruit. From the attitude of the adults, it was something serious. However, to a ten year old, all I kept thinking was “Geez, how dangerous can peaches be and what has our president been doing with them?”

Dining Out 1970s Style

“If you wanna a drink of water, you gotta get it from a well. If you wanna get to heaven, you gotta raise a little hell.” (“If You Wanna Get to Heaven” by the Ozark Mountain Daredevils)

Despite the fact that our family never really dined out, unless McDonalds counts, I still vividly recall visiting a few Central Florida eateries which are no longer with us.

One of the first places we dined out with Aunt Mary and her family was Tom’s Pizza in Maitland. The blueish white neon sign in the front window continuously flashed “Tom’s Pizza - 25¢”. I don’t remember much from that visit other than the place was dark and the harmonica solo from “If You Wanna Get to Heaven” by the Ozark Mountain Daredevils blared in the background.

One of the popular fast food burger chains of that period was Burger Chef and there was one in Fern Park, not too far from where we’d eventually settle in nearby Casselberry. In addition to the orange and blue color scheme and the chef hat logo, I fondly recall those delectable hamburgers. The burgers were so juicy, in fact, that one squirted me squarely in the eye after I squeezed it a bit too hard in my eagerness to shove it into my mouth. I haven’t been attacked by a better burger since!

Pizza parlors were places we didn’t go to often but when we did, it was a treat! There was a place in Casselberry called Shakey’s which catered to families and featured “Golden Age” show reels of Laurel & Hardy as well as the Little Rascals.

Shopping, Turtles and Roses (Oh My!)

“Can it be that it was all so simple then? Or has time rewritten every line? If we had the chance to do it all again, tell me, would we, could we?” (The Way We Were by Barbra Streisand)

My mother loved going to stores and that’s what we often did on the weekends. Our main target was usually the Altamonte Mall, which was visible from my Aunt Mary’s backyard. The first time I walked into that mall, I was dumbfounded at how huge it was. I’d never seen so many stores under one roof. And there were two floors of shops!

My dad was never one for the retail experience, so he would find a place to park himself while Mom whipped around from shop to shop with the rest of us in her wake, breathlessly trying to keep up. Back in those days, Mom idled in high gear. She talked fast and walked even faster. Because Suzy was barely out of her toddler stage and her legs would never keep up with Mom’s lightning-fast gait, she often stayed with Dad.

Back then, in the days before mobile phones, we had to arrange a meeting place and time before going our separate ways. Luckily the Altamonte Mall had the perfect central meeting spot. In the center of the first floor was a seating area of benches, bright red carpeting and a cluster of modern, stylized turtle sculptures. So, whenever my family visited the mall, we’d often agree to “meet by the turtles” at a predestined time.

Near the mall’s turtle habitat was Ferrell’s, a late 19th century themed ice cream parlor. The employees were outfitted in 1890s style flat boater hats and the long sleeve shirts with ties. They served gigantic sundaes and had just about every flavor of ice cream my young mind could think of. One day I felt a bit adventurous and ordered the bubble gum ice cream because it looked so pretty and colorful. A half hour later, I was left with a huge, flavorless wad of gum in my mouth. I wish I could say that this was an important lesson I learned in not being taken in by good looks alone - but I’d be lying.

The travel agency with its lush carpeting, sleek desks and beautiful posters of Big Ben and the Eiffel Tower was an early fascination of mine. I was particularly attracted to the glossy brochures and travel magazines. And once I realized that they were actually free for the taking, I’d always walk away with an armful. Once we got home, I’d spend hours pouring over the pages of exotic locales and dream of the day I could see them in person. My mom often declared that I’d eventually become a travel agent myself.

Other stores I remember were Casual Corner, Pants USA, the Gap, Lerners, Stuart’s, Zales, Tom McAnn, and Baker’s Shoes. But the stores I spent the most time in were the mall’s two record shops - Camelot Music and Chess King. Later on in my teens, I’d spend pretty much all of my allowance in those music stores on the latest albums by the Sweet, Queen, Van Halen or whatever group I was into at the time. I also spent many hours in B. Dalton and Waldenbooks, usually browsing through books about said rock groups.

During the pre-food court days of the 1970s, the mall had just a few snack counters and full service restaurants. Chick-fil-A was an early fast food outlet in the mall. I also remember a German restaurant called Mr. Dunderbak’s that was dark, festooned with hanging sausages and had a strong sauerkraut smell.

The York Steakhouse was a family favorite of ours. It had an orange, yellow and brown interior which was set up cafeteria style. I was never a huge steak eater so I’d often just order the chopped sirloin steak as it was more of a burger patty in gravy.

Another mall we’d visit was the Fashion Square Mall which was just east of downtown Orlando. The Naval Training Center was next door, so every Friday evening and on weekends, the mall’s concourse was a sea of white, starched navy uniforms.

There was a store at the Fashion Square that specialized in men’s clothing. I can’t remember the shop’s name but I DO recall that on Friday nights, a couple of male salesclerks would stand in front of the store and give out single, long-stemmed roses to the women who walked by. Sometimes Mom got one. And because I was tall and a bit mature looking for my age, I once got a rose, too!

And Now for a Word from Our Sponsor…

Speaking of stores, I can still remember the words to a lot of the commercial jingles back then. Well, at least I THINK these were the words!

Kmart:

Kmart is your savings store, where your dollar buys you more.

Eric Adams Furniture Warehouse:

Pick it out in the showroom, where the savings are great.

Pick it up in the warehouse and take it home in the crate.

Eric Adams Furniture Warehouse, Eric Adams Furniture Warehouse.

Don Mealey Chevrolet:

Don Mealey Chevrolet, Don Mealey Chevrolet

So you can have the car you want to drive….TODAY!

The 1970s School Pod System

“You went to school to learn, girl, things you never, never knew before. Like I before E except after C and why 2 plus 2 makes 4.” (“ABC” by the Jackson 5)

After that first month at Aunt Mary’s, the summer started to wind down and the new school year reared its ugly head. My cousins went to a private, Catholic school where the students wore uniforms. I thought that was pretty cool and wanted to go there. But because we didn’t have the money and - more importantly - we weren’t practicing Catholics, my siblings and I were enrolled at Spring Lake Elementary in Altamonte Springs.

I still recall that first day of school. I was going into fifth grade, wearing a new outfit and carrying a lunch box that I didn’t really care for. All the other kids had cool lunch boxes with pictures of cartoon characters or pop stars on them. I had a strange looking, oblong cylindrical thing adorned with yellow flowers that zipped around the top. It was more of an adult lunch box - something a teacher would bring to school. Because I was tall and mature looking for my age, my mother attempted to dress and accessorize me accordingly. For a short time, she insisted I carry a purse any time I went anywhere. But eventually, I won out on that battle - at least until I hit my teens.

As I mentioned before, I’d already attended a few different schools before we moved to Florida. But Spring Lake was new experience for me because it was a pod school. In the 70’s, many schools were based on the pod system, which meant open classrooms and very few walls. I remember our fifth grade class had three walls but the back of the class opened into a huge common area shared with the other fifth grade classes. We could hear what was going on in other areas. I don’t know what the thinking was behind this concept. I’m guessing it was a money-saving measure. But it was obviously quite easy to get distracted.

Regardless, I loved this new school. My teacher, whose name escapes me now, was very nice and used to read stories like “Island of the Blue Dolphin” to us after lunch. Speaking of lunch, I don’t think this school had a full cafeteria because I remember the meals being served usually consisted of a sandwich, a drink and a piece of fruit shrink wrapped in plastic on a styrofoam tray.

Another thing I remember vividly about this school was the day the book fair rolled in. My teacher sent me home with a book fair order form the day before and I’d carefully perused it before making my choice and pestering my folks for the money. As an avid young reader, the opportunity to visit the bookmobile and buy a book of my choosing was a real thrill!

Trick or Treat

“The zombies were having fun. The party had just begun. The guests included Wolf Man, Dracula and his son.” (“Monster Mash” by Bobby "Boris" Pickett & The Crypt Kickers)

Being a military brat meant dealing with constant change. Despite our nomadic lifestyle, I was always very fortunate to have made good friends in every neighborhood where we lived and at each school I attended. The downside was I always had to say goodbye a short time later. During our brief stay at my aunt’s house, I remember befriending a girl around my age who lived down the street. Her name was Caroline and I could swear her surname was Kennedy.

Caroline was a year older than me, which meant she must have just started junior high school that year. We’d sometimes hang out at my aunt’s house in the family room or I’d go over to her house. Caroline was the one who introduced me to Wacky Stickers, those delightful decals that spoofed well-known brands of foods and household products such as Kentucky Fried Fingers, Neveready Batteries and Cheapios cereal. As a budding artist myself, I was fascinated with the vibrant artwork which closely resembled the original products being lampooned. Each pack cost about a quarter and included several wacky stickers, a cardboard puzzle piece and a stick of gum that was easily mistaken for another piece of cardboard. We could only get them from the Lil Champ, which was a popular chain of convenience stores in Florida at the time.

As Halloween loomed, Caroline asked if I wanted to go trick-or-treating with her around the neighborhood. I was surprised because I had reckoned we were too big and beyond the age of trick-or-treating. My mom had kept me home the previous Halloween because she reckoned I was getting too tall and old for it. But now, here was a girl even OLDER than me who was going. So I asked my mom and after some misgivings, she miraculously let me go. Caroline and I didn’t have any costumes. We just wore regular clothes and carried a couple of pillow cases for our haul. We combed the entire neighborhood that night and filled those pillow cases with all kinds of sweet goodies. I can still remember the strong smell of all that confectionary combined into one fruity, chocolatey aroma. That was the final year of actual door-to-door trick-or-treating for me. For the next couple of years, my family would take us to the mall so my younger siblings could trick-or-treat. Then, I was more of a bystander but I DID still get the occasional piece of candy from a sympathetic merchant!

A Race that Nobody Wins

“Half-breed, that's all I ever heard. Half-breed, how I learned to hate the word. Half-breed, she's no good they warned. Both sides were against me since the day I was born.” (“Half Breed” by Cher)

It’s said that all things must eventually come to an end, and our two month stay with Aunt Mary and her family was no exception. During final months of 1974, my parents closed on a house in the suburban town of Casselberry, Florida. Once again, I had to say goodbye to a school I had grown to love and to my new friend Caroline.

Up until then, I never really gave my ethnicity any serious thought. I knew I felt different from other kids, but I was mainly focused on my height because I was often about half a head taller than classmates. Whenever a class photograph was arranged, I would be placed in the center of the back row, which would be composed mainly of boys.

I remember the first time I was made aware of being racially different from my classmates. It happened in Altus, Oklahoma, 1971. I was in the second grade then and my class was primarily made up of white kids. There were also two black boys and then there was me, with my olive complexion and kinky, curly hair. For some reason, one day my teacher, Miss Warren, who I absolutely ADORED, was in a jovial mood and started asking me which of the two black boys I wanted to kiss. The entire class started laughing. To this day, I can’t remember what led up to that question or why Miss Warren would ask that to begin with. I remember feeling embarrassed and mortified. I was only 7 years old at the time and to me, ALL boys were icky regardless of their race. And why was I being singled out along with the black kids? Looking back, I don’t know what upset me more - the public humiliation or feeling betrayed by a teacher that I had loved.

After we landed in Florida, other than one of my aunt’s friends once referring to us kids as “pickaninnies”, I don’t recall encountering any other bigotry during our two month stay in Altamonte Springs. But the moment we moved into our permanent home in Casselberry, the racist floodgates burst open.

It started as soon as we moved into that four bedroom/two bath, mustard colored house in a predominantly white neighborhood. I was standing in the driveway one afternoon, not long after we moved in. Two girls my age, one of whom lived across the street from me, were walking by. They looked over at me, put their heads together, whispered something and exploded into giggles as they once again looked back at me.

About half a block down from our house was a family who was well-known in the neighborhood. In fact, they delivered the daily newspaper. And one of the sons was a safety patrol at the elementary school we were about to start attending. Every time my siblings and I would walk by that house, the kids there would always make sure to loudly shout, “N*****s!” It was the first time I recall hearing that word used toward us.

What made things worse was that even I didn’t know what I was. My mother and father were both of Puerto Rican descent. However, they never brought us up speaking Spanish. As far as I was concerned, we were just an average white family, even though our skin tone was just a tad darker and our hair a bit kinkier.

“Why don’t you ever wear your hair down?” girls at school would ask me. I never had an answer for that one. My hair was too coarse and thick to wear loose so my mother always pulled it back into a low pony tail on my neck and twisted the hair into long banana curls. She called it “The George Washington” or “The George”, for short. No matter what name it was given, I absolutely loathed that hairstyle by the time I was ten. I thought it looked matronly on me as compared to the loose, lovely hairstyles I was seeing on the girls at school and the women on television.

In 1974, the Civil Rights Act had only passed ten years prior and a lot of the older generation was still not totally on board with racial equality. So walking around the neighborhood often involved being called every racial epithet known to mankind and occasionally having stuff thrown at me. Once, while walking to the store with some cousins, an old woman came out of her house and told us to stay off the sidewalk because it was for Americans only.

And if our neighborhood wasn’t enough of a racist cesspool, our new elementary school was even worse.

I continued my 5th grade year at Casselberry Elementary. I still remember going down there with my parents and my siblings to register. That's when we met the principal, a middle-aged man with thinning hair and a booming voice named Mr. Harp. (His signature often included a tiny drawing of a harp.) Mr. Harp was a jovial sort and, during our initial visit, he proved this by sitting on top of a file cabinet, holding a plunger and singing a chorus of “King of the Road.”

I was assigned to Mrs. Blair’s class. Mrs. Blair was a kindly, older, heavy set black woman who was probably near retirement by then. Unfortunately, she was lumbered with a classroom full of loud, unruly pupils led by a short, mean-tempered little bigot by the name of Mark Owens. With a face full of freckles and his red hair styled into the ubiquitous bowl cut that was in fashion among boys of that time, Mark was the personification of an angry, little red rooster looking for someone to pick on - often our teacher. One day, Mark found a huge branch out on the school playground and was planning on bringing it inside. He called it his “n****r knocker” and was going to use it on Mrs. Blair.

Mrs. Blair, to her credit, always handled Mark and the other class bullies with dignity. And when one of them started to spew racist drivel her way, I remember her standing tall and saying “I am proud to be a black woman!”

Mark’s nickname for me was “Big, Bad and Ugly.” Once he tried to challenge me to a fight. “Come on, let’s go, Big, Bad and Ugly!” I have no idea why he wanted to fight me as I never did or said anything to him. But I refused to give into his bullying and eventually he left me alone.

Later on, a new Latino girl named Lissette was assigned to our classroom. She spoke only Spanish. Mark’s nickname for her was “Chinaman” for some bizarre reason. I’m guessing he was a fan of the popular “Kung Fu” tv series, so any non-English speaking foreigner was a “Chinaman” to him.

As the years passed and I entered high school, the racism I encountered was not quite as intense but it would still flare up on occasion.

Once, as I was walking down the main street of our subdivision, a guy named Ricky drove by in a truck. He was a couple years ahead of me in school and I had a secret crush on him. But the crush immediately ended the moment he leaned out of the window, laughed and yelled at me. “Hey, Mexican American!!!!” What? I’m not even Mexican.

For years, I’d struggle with racial and ethnic identification. One dreaded question I was often asked (and sometimes I still hear), is “What are you?”

I wasn’t white enough for the whites, I wasn’t black enough for the African Americans and, because I didn’t speak Spanish, I wasn’t Latino enough for the Latinos. To this day, I cringe whenever I see a “race” field on a form. I honestly never know what I should identify as. Luckily, I’m seeing a “prefer not to answer” option more frequently, so that’s what I usually choose.

Ironically, I would later take an Ancestry ethnicity test which would reveal that I did INDEED have African DNA. So, I’ll be darned, all those racists were actually right! I do have black blood and I am very proud of it - just like Mrs. Blair was!

The City Beautiful

“Sometimes, all I need is the air that I breathe and to love you.” (“The Air That I Breathe” by the Hollies)

For the next half a century, I will have a love/hate relationship with Orlando and Central Florida in general as I see it grow from a fledgling metropolis to one of the world’s premier travel destinations.

When we first moved down here, there were orange groves everywhere. Now they are a rarity, having been cut down and buried underneath subdivisions, apartment buildings, strip malls, car washes, and fast food outlets. Most of the four way stop signs have long since been replaced by traffic lights. The old department stores in downtown Orlando have made way for banks and bars.

Goodings, Pantry Pride, Piggly Wiggly, Food Lion and most Winn Dixie supermarkets have fallen to the almighty Publix chain. The smaller tourist attractions like the Stars Hall of Fame and Mystery Fun House have been squashed by the mighty corporate Disney/Universal/Sea World trinity. The old local restaurants of yesteryear such as Ronnie’s and the Purple Porpoise are distant memories. Sun Bank became Sun Trust and then became Truist.

The boisterous children who used to ride bicycles all around the neighborhood have long since gone inside and now play on smart phones. And it’s no wonder because it’s hotter than ever outside.

The demographic of the area has certainly changed. I definitely see a lot more ethnicities and interracial couples now than I did when we first arrived. Many times I’ve been in stores where I was the only English speaking person. There is also more LGBTQ+ acceptance than there used to be during my childhood when it was considered normal to freely use the words “gay” and “queer” derogatorily. While there is still a lot of progress yet to be made, there are more support organizations and programs available now than there were in the seventies.

So have things changed for the better in the “City Beautiful?” Yes. But is there still room for improvement? Definitely!

In closing, I can proudly say that after half a century of living in Florida, I’ve survived countless hurricanes and have yet to be attacked by a gator or a snake. But more importantly, I’ve stopped trying to figure out WHAT I am and instead I’ve begun to appreciate WHO I am.

#1970s #florida #nostalgia

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tequila-sunfall · 23 days ago

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(Note: some graphic descriptions of violence and gore ahead.)

“DERANGED POWER CRAZY MASTER PAWN BEGINS WOLFSTACK MASSACRE — AN IDIOTIC TRAGEDY”

Opinion Piece - Ferdinand Brante

Rats, scurrying forward at the smell of crimson blood. Hands and eyes left open, no will to close either - their wills have fled to the Boatman. Some for their final, cruel venture. A child walks out, arm broken and coughing blood, screaming for his brethren. They won’t be returning for a very long time. “Honorable” neddy men stumble out with their stained weapons. Bodies with cigars landing on their stomachs, mouths open, some still clapped between their lips.

These are, as written, the damages concluding the first wave of the wars raged on Wolfstack Docks, perpetrated by Marie Brutus. My full title for her - Marie Brute-us. The Master’s pet, princess of fascism, of which the country that is her ideology hath deserted her centuries before.

Just two weeks before, she, from atop her high throne of ice (much like her cold demeanor), steps out of the Bazaar Spires, to declare her delusional rhetoric, clearly drunk, to wage war against the Revolutionaries that combat her kingdom: the Masters’ rule. I remember where I was at the time, atop my Zubmersible, freshly docked from a trip from Port Cecil. There, my first-mate left the boat first, to get assistance in tying down the ship firmly. They never managed to get back to the ship. Doctors said if they had been damaged any further, they wouldn’t be seen in London, or anywhere, ever again. They were an innocent person, without a history of Revolutionary deeds. She - Princess Marie - ordered this attack, uncaring for those caught up in this “fight”, for this is rather a public execution, of which there is no evidence, no confession, and no crime. Yet, here we are.

Seven. The number. This is the number of those permanently killed amidst the bloodbath.

Elizabeth Stalking. An author interviewing a nearby group of Zailors for a new novel she was writing. Death by a crowd of neddy men, stepping on her head so hard it burst open. The rest of her organs went soon after.

Martin Grehan. A father of three, heading to buy a set of trinkets for his second eldest child, as a graduation present. He was shot thrice in the chest, once in the head, and twice at the legs, before his body was grabbed by one of the Constables, and decapitated. Which - I do not know.

Marcus Windhalm. Eighty-nine year old philosopher. Renowned and beloved by all in Benthic, and many in Summerset. Was on a stroll, when he was mistaken for a suspected Liberationist group leader, and shot a total of fifty nine times. He was only identified by his journal, tattered to bits, pages still attached to his overcoat.

Steban Idlestahm and Trent Idlestahm. Sibling tourists from the Surface. Got entangled in a gunpowder explosion. Steban’s last words were reported as “God, please.” Trent’s were “Why?”

Ridley Randurm, a Mourner returning to meet his family in London. He killed five Neddy Men before being taken down. They say a certain blue capped individual visited her in a certain river. Kicked her off a certain boat. The Boatman shivers in disgust.

Caleb. From a local orphanage. He was six.

Remember these people when you think of what happened on this day, today. Three hundred was the death toll, minimum. Think of everyone who perished, those who will not return. Know that this will continue, until we rise up and force them to stop. Marie, the Tyrant she is, will not end this alone. We must force her to listen to reason - if not reason, then the Masters. Quickly. Before one of us ends up on the papers.

Have faith. All will be well. God willing. (If there is one.)

-PAGE 3 OF THE DAILY INFORMER.

The Wolfstack Massacre

Summary: Marie gathers the neddy-men in the Bazaar side-streets, and delivers a speech which incites a battle on Wolfstack Docks. Contents include strong fascist themes, incitement of violence, anti-revolutionary sentiment, and described non-graphic violence at the end.

#Oh my god nana why did you cause 9/11

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masterofaster · 2 years ago

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「 @universestreasures 」 issued a challenge:

"Jack, you've truly made me the happiest woman on this Earth, the Earth we now rule together as one." The Dark Signer starts, her head resting on his chest as she plays with his blonde strands. She swears he looks more handsome than he did when he was living like this, sharing the same mark as she on his arm. The dark markings on her arm and face start to glow, seeming to synchronize with his own as her desires seem to just sink into his very being through that bond.

"We're always going to be together, right?" She stares into his eyes with those glowing purple eyes, as alluring and beautiful as those of a siren who charmed sailors to their deaths "Together forever? King and Queen? No one to tear us apart? You feel the same way, do you not, my Jack?"

(DS Carly For The DS AU UWU)

Until death do most part. But that logic didn’t apply to them. They were beyond the rules of mortals, and as such they were allowed a new life where they could be together, truly forever.

❝ I would ravage the world time and time again if it meant being with you. ❞

In his dark eyes reflected the scorched earth beyond their home in the sky. Their kingdom, a place where one who was beyond saving and one who sacrificed it all could finally be together at long last. Their previous life would have only torn them apart. Duty and obligation to opposing sides in the war of Signers would have put their wishes last for the sake of salvation and peace.

Jack had been willing to die alongside Carly back then. To be together in the afterlife if that was what it took if he truly couldn’t save her. Back then he had been a fool. A incorrigible fool, who would forsake his chances at both being with Carly as well as crowned a king for what he once deemed an honorable end to them both. How lucky he was to have a woman such as Carly in his life to enlighten him.

Now they made their own rules, lived by them and bent the world in line with their desires.

If the world wouldn’t allow them to be together then they’d lay that world to waste and start anew. Create a world without a war to tear them apart. Create the life they’ve only had a small taste of while he was in hiding in her care. Here Jack didn’t need to be hidden away. Here Carly didn’t have to perish for a fate that wasn’t for her to suffer.

The dark mark on his arm brought a warmth to his otherwise cold skin as it blazed to life with an otherwise subtle glow. His gaze which had been fixed on their kingdom now drawn into the inky depths of his love’s eyes. In them Jack could see himself as she saw him. The newfound King of their reclaimed world. It had brought a smile to his lips, as reflected in her eyes. A wide, tooth-laced grin so sharp it nearly split his face in two.

His arm ached with the reminder of their shared power. He wanted to share in it more.

And so the Dark King brings his marked arm around to cup her cheek in his hand, fingers dancing along her skin until his thumb grazed her lips and he took a surprisingly gentle hold of her chin. But he dared not drag his queen around by his hand, instead he dipped himself down to meet her in a hungry kiss that spoke volumes in mere seconds.

--I want you. I love you. Together. Forever. My Carly... My Number One--

Something in him seems to come to a sudden halt.

His Number One... She was there, with him now. So why did it feel as though he had called out to another in his heart?

He pulls back just enough to look back into her eyes, reminding himself that Carly was indeed right there with him even now. Yes... That’s right. Relief washed over him as he leaves a content sigh against her skin. Jack then wraps his arms around her entirely, bringing her as close to himself as possible. He didn’t want to let her go, ever again. After all, the last time he did he almost lost her completely. He wouldn’t lose her again. He wouldn’t. He... He couldn’t do that to her again. She’d never suffer another harm due to his negligence again.

His resolution and determination is reflected once again in the eyes of his love, his queen. But he’s no longer smiling at himself. For now Jack sees only himself as the dark king would. A man bound to a fate that would bring harm to the woman he loved most in this world and the next. He needed the strength she granted him in order to safeguard this life they now shared. He’d be the man she prided him as, even if it killed him again-- He had to be.

❝ …There is not a force in this world strong enough to tear us apart now. Nothing... And no one... I swear it to you. ❞

And so the king declares. With Carly by his side there was no entity that could rival them in terms of strength and conviction. Jack would protect Carly as he always should have, as the right and proper King. -

#WITNESS THE TRUE KING「ic」#QUERY「asks」#VERSE.// CHAOS KING #universestreasures #My Number One [universestreasure | Carly]#.//lol i still have to fix carly's tag #.//man i was like-- o idk if i have muse for jack but then he said yes tf u do bih #.//JACK NEVER DIES except in ds verse but i digress #.//JACK NEVER DIES #.//in my brain at least #.//i love the fact that these two lounge around all day being gROSSLY IN LOVE LMAOO #tw long post

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alice-angel12x · 3 years ago

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🌩 Prince Elf! Shoto x Reader

Long ago in a land far away, was a small town that rested near a great forest. This was no ordinary forest, this forest was said to house all sorts of magical creatures, from the frail pixies to the lustrous Unicorns. All under the protection of the proud Elf people, the residents, and protectors of the forest and all its creatures. Many humans aren't allowed deep in the forest, not that they could find the great kingdom anyways. Any human with a wicked heart that entered the forest, were meet with terroirs and monsters. So many adults stayed away from the deepest parts of the woods, yet children would not report such things. Many saying they've seen all sorts of magical things, even some elves.

So the saying goes, the forest will only show its wonders to those clean of heart.

A young child named Y/n, wandered into those forests to see the creatures herself. As she went deeper into the forest, she soon came across a beautiful waterfall.

Y/n stared in awe as she approached the waterfall. As she approached Y/n noticed a small figure sitting in the middle f the lake. The closer she got Y/n could see it was a young elf dressed in fine clothing, he looked like a young prince. The young elf seemed to notice the girl too, as he slightly glared at her.

Y/n getting the memo, stayed on her side of the forest, and the Elf boy minding his own business. So Y/n sat down by the lake's edge and weaved a bunch of flower looms into her basket. As the two sat quietly, some small woodland creatures slowly started to approach the young girl. From rabbits to the ever-shy unicorn, slowly approached the young human. Y/n smiled brightly as she offered a bright red apple to the pure white unicorn.

Shoto couldn't help but feel a little envious, not even the "bravest" by unicorn standards want to approach him. So he slowly got closer to the girl and the critters, only for the creatures to notice his presence and quickly scatter.

Y/n looked up at the young elf boy, now that he was close she could see more unique features to him. How his hair is half red and half white, along with the most beautiful heterochromatic eyes. "Umm, Good day to you," Y/n greeted with a smile.

Shoto surprised by her warm greeting didn't really know how to respond. Most human youths ran away from him at the mere presence of him. "Umm, hi," was all he could utter.

"Umm, it must be pretty nice. Living with all the unicorns and other creatures," Y/n smiled bashfully.

"I guess, though most of the time they run away from me," Shoto said plainly.

"Why is that?" Y/n asked curiously.

"Cause my aura, it too much like my father's," Shoto said with a hint of hate in his voice.

"Your Father must be scary and powerful," Y/n commented.

"Is the king of the elves for a reason," Shoto said nonchalantly.

"So you're a prince then? So what's it like?" Y/n asked.

"None of your business," Shoto answered.

"Oh, sorry. Umm, I work at a baker, to earn money for my friends and me in the orphanage. You should try out berry muffins sometimes... Oh, that's why I'm here," Y/n gasped with wide eyes. " I forget I came here to collect fruits and berries."

"Well umm... There is one place you could go," Shoto said slowly.

"Oh, where?" Y/n asked.

"I... I'll show you," Shoto said as he dragged Y/n into the forest.

Shoto soon leads her to an opening in the forest, filled with bushes with alerts of berries and trees that bore loads of fruits. Y/n's eyes widened in awe at the many fruits and berries all in one place. She happily pulled Shoto with her as they started collecting berries left and right.

Shoto not used to peasant work got cut on the thrones; making his hands look like they were attacked by an angry cat. His sleeves didn't fare well either. Y/n gasped in shock as she looked at Shoto's cut-up hands. The girl quickly pulled out her handkerchief and wrapped his bloodied hands.

Shoto's heart pounded in his chest at this human girl's kindness. Her hands were so warm and gentle, a feeling he hasn't received in a very long time.

"There, all better. Umm, you probably still need to clean it, tho," Y/n smiled as she kissed his knuckle.

"W-why did you do that?!" Shoto gasped as he pulled his hands away.

"I'm kissing them better. That's what my mommy does when I get hurt," Y/n explained.

Shoto's ears and cheeks were a bright red as his heart fluttered in his chest. Yet soon the two noticed that the sun was reaching the horizon, so with a heavy heart, Shoto led Y/n to the edge of the forest. As Y/n turned to leave she felt Shoto's hand still gripped onto her wrist.

"Shoto?" Y/n asked.

"Will you come back soon?" Shoto asked as he looked at his feet.

"Sure, if my Caretaker lets me," Y/n smiled.

Shoto hesitantly released her as Y/n quickly ran off to her family home and bakery. From that day on Y/n would visit the forest and shout every week or so. Just to explore the forest with all different parts of the forest, and spend time together. As the two grew, Shoto's feelings for this human also grew.

But one day, on Y/n's 13th birthday, she fell horribly sick. In desperation, her orphanage brothers and sisters worked harder than ever to earn the money to cure there, friend and sister at heart. Even if it meant sending her to the faraway capital. While Shoto waited and waited for his beloved Human to return to him, yet she never came. Their once lush and lively secret waterfall becomes a snowy wasteland. The trees had long perished, the water had completely frozen over, and the animals had long fleed that small section of the forest.

The other elves grew worried, yet fearful of the young prince. His ice powers were out of control and harming the woods around him, not even his father could reverse the ice magic. Shoto sat at the snowy waste of the waterfall, his heart hardened in disappear.

"Why have you abandoned me Y/n," He sobbed quietly to himself.

As he grew, so did his power and his curse. The once beautiful and mysterious forest was consumed by eternal snow and winter.

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

After a few years, Y/n slowly recovered and returned to her home in the orphanage, where her family at heart welcomed her back with open arms. She was slightly surprised by the sudden change of the once magical forest, but sadly she could risk getting sick again. So with a heavy heart avoided the snowy forest.

Though she would wonder the edge, in hopes that Maybe her elf friend would appear. Yet he never did, at least from what she saw. She was completely unaware of the heterochromatic eyes watching her every movement.

"You've finally returned, Y/n," He sighed with lovesick awe. " It's finally time to claim my queen."

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

"Are you sure you don't need anything Y/n?" Deku asked. Y/n's long-time friend in the orphanage.

"I'm fine Deku, thanks to you and the others I was able to get the care I needed," Y/n smiled.

Deku's heart fluttered in his chest. The two grew up together in the orphanage, worked together in the same barkery, and was the one who worked the hardest to earn money for Y/n. Seeing his long-time crush happy and well was enough for him.

"Wow, it's really snowing out there isn't it," Y/n said as she stares out at the blizzard outside.

"Yeah, one could almost forget it's supposed to be summer," Deku said with slight concern.

"What happened during the time I was gone?' Y/n wondered to herself.

As night fell everyone in the orphanage was preparing for bed, as Izuku helped Y/n to bed for she was still weak in recovery. The snowy wind howled against the old orphanage building as Izuku tried to keep the fire going.

Then suddenly the windows and doors slammed open as the snow and wind rushed through the building. The fire was quickly blown out and the room was cast in darkness. Deku began to panic as he knew the chill could kill Y/n, but as he turned to Y/n; there stood a tall figure holding her sleeping form gently. The boy and two different colored hair and eyes, and wore expensive attire. Izuku noticed the boy's pointed ears and Crown made of gold and silver, it was the Elf king.

Shoto held his beloved delicately as he wielded his ice magic to form a beautiful tiara of ice on her head. With a soft kiss on her forehead, the two vanished in the gust of snow.

" Y/N!!" Izuku gasped as he quickly stood and ran the window, and saw that the snow had stopped suddenly

___

#fanasy au #mha fantasy au #mha x reader #mha shouto #todoroki shoto #shoto x reader #mha deku #bnha fantasy au #bnha shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki x reader

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wordynerdygurl · 4 years ago

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Skin Deep - Part 6

Author’s Note: Honestly, this story is nearing it’s ending. Hard to believe that a little idea I couldn’t shake has now grown into this mini-series! For all my die-hard homies, waiting for the next installment, I hope this is worth your while! If you’re new here, take a look around, see if you like anything and please, let the management know if you have any questions!! As always, writing like this requires the emotional support of people and pets. My dogs, Murphy and Winston, get me through a lot of plot bunnies just by being stalwart companions. My husband, graciously, lets me take these flights of fancy when I probably should be paying better attention to him and his day... and some of my besties here on Tumblr make it possible for me to do this for you guys. @sammy-jo1977 , my sister from another mister! Couldn’t/ Wouldn’t do it without you! To all the folks who follow me... My Minxes! Love you all! Stay well, be kind, and remember that Love, really does conquer all! If you want to be a Minx, send me a note, I’ll happily add you to my tag list! Lastly, be sure to like and share anything that you see on Tumblr that catches your eye. Creative types, we need the constant validation, you see? Without it, like an unwatered plant, we wither on the vine and perish! Be kind to those who help you through the day and reblog! Skin Deep Part 5 - click here for the previous chapter! Pairing: Loki x Reader, Steve, Valkyrie & Thor all make appearances Summary: Continued from Part 5, You and Loki put your plan into action, returning to Farmhouse. When you encounter Steve again, you learn there’s more than two sides to this story. Warnings: Loki’s POV and perspective, including mentions of his time under Thanos. I’m re-writing MCU history here, but some of the main beats are the same, so look out for SPOILERS for Dark World, Ragnarok, and a touch of Infinity War. The SNAP never happened because, reasons.

Empathy used to seem such a human emotion. Loki had no time for that on Asgard, not when Odin denied anything as frivolous as feeling. Hiding in plain sight was the means to survival and if that made the young prince sneaky and sly, so be it. By placing those parts of himself under lock and key; the parts that hurt, the ones that ached, Loki found it was safer to disconnect from others than subject himself to their suffering too.

Operating under the influence of Thanos and his minions when he held the scepter, Loki had purposefully divorced connection of any kind from his mind. It was dangerous. Weak. And moreover, it allowed Loki to do what Thanos commanded without really experiencing the horror, the havoc, of his actions for himself.

Who could hear the screams of women when the voice of Ebony Maw subliminally chanted all the ways that one could be dismembered at Thanos’ hands should Loki fail? What man would shed a tear after the near constant beatings doled out by Black Order members, just for the fun of it? How could someone care about a house, a car, a city, when they no longer cared about themself? Losing the Battle for New York had consequences far beyond the destruction of property. With Thanos’ hold over him vanquished, the walls around his heart, constructed in youth, crashed and burned like the dream of ruling Earth. Suddenly and completely out of reserves, Loki was powerless. And he felt everything. The fresh hurts caused by his manipulated ambitions in the hands of Thanos. The furious feelings of his brother, the inadequacies of his character, the feeble needs that drove his wild ambition washed over him unceasingly. Anger. Loss. Lunacy. Loki learned a hard truth in that moment. He was a monster. A freak. A creature beyond hope and salvation; proving his adoptive father right and his own hopeful heart wrong. Bitterness soured the fallen prince. Endless hours in isolation on Earth, which continued in his father's house, had Loki believing he had no chance of seeing the world outside again, and it hardened his heart further. To feel was so painful, so raw, and so humane. Why bother anyway? All that emoting, those high spirits, all they really did was expose you to derision. What was grief to a goblin? What was horror to a monster? What was love to a villain like him? An evil, conspiring demi-god, with a mind bent toward domination. A damaged, destroyed, deity alone and in pieces. Who would ever give someone like Loki Odinson a chance? Why should they?

Turning to his mother, Loki did everything but ask for forgiveness. In long rambling talks, her projection to his jailed person, the pair talked around ideas of guilt and innocence, of fate and fortune, of destiny versus desire, yet Loki never heard the words he needed in order to truly find peace.

If Frigga was aware of her son’s need for absolution, Loki would never know, as their last exchange was harsh and full of anger. Another stroke of loss, crippling now, because there was nothing Loki could do to change any of it from inside his prison cell. No illusion could conceal the painful ache that consumed him entirely.

Those days were dark, even for a soul as dusky hued as his own, and Loki’s thoughts followed a similar path. If there had been a way for him to shake off this immortal coil, free himself of the burden of living, Loki would have done so and been glad. Death was welcome compared to all this longing and heartache. But life, even a nearly immortal one, was funny.

When Thor provided a chance at redemption, Loki snatched at it, in his own detached way. He played hero, rescuing Jane, aiding his brother. And if he took a bit more in the form of deposing his arrogant, aging father, who would be surprised? He was Loki, God of Mischief, after all. Ruling the Nine Realms without the oppressive oversight of his father allowed Loki to prove himself in ways he never imagined. And Loki wasn’t just good at it. He was great. Of course, it helped that no one knew he was Loki. Living disguised as Odin was often unpleasant, frequently frustrating, but entirely necessary. Being Loki was still too difficult and likely to bring unwanted attention in the form of The God of Thunder, a thing that no one truly wanted, Loki least of all. Return Thor did, along with an unknown sister and the end of Asgard. When confronted with the insanity of Hela’s bloodlust, Loki’s only thought was of his kingdom, now without a ruler. He had worked too hard, too long, to see the land he cared for in the hands of an enemy, even if she called herself sister. Opening the Bi-Frost, panicked, his mind was solely on saving those he had recently held dominion over. They were his people, after all. But he never reached Asgard. Swallowing his fear, Loki focused all his energy on staying alive in a new and distracting environment, initially. What Loki found on Sakaar wasn't a new home base under a flamboyant, ineffective leader that he could control, even if that was his first design. On Sakaar Loki found his loyalty.

The proud, deep resonance of being Asgardian, of being an Odinson, of being capable and cool under pressure. Sure, he had to prove himself to Thor, Valkyrie, Banner and honestly, the rest of the kingdom, but actions speak louder than words. And through his actions on Sakkar, and by extension rescuing the people of Asgard, Loki had shown everybody his true mettle. It was on the deck of a stolen ship headed for Midgard that Loki had made a commitment of sorts. One that was not to the people, so recently saved or for his found family. This time, the promise Loki intended to keep was for himself. Loki was going to change. The problem is, a task like that takes time. Patience. Motivation. It was something that Loki had to work at and it was exhausting. They say that the best things come to those who wait. Loki was learning to wait everyday. Having earned a place at the side of his brother, he worked tirelessly to win over the heroes of his new home planet. Was it easy? Hardly, but Loki wasn’t willing to compromise. Not anymore. A life like Hela’s was not in his runes. Loki was simply going to be better. Not perfect. No one could be as good hearted as Captain America, nor could one be as tech savvy as Stark. So Loki was planning on being the best Loki he could possibly be, and that’s how he found himself going to meetings at The Avengers Tower, a mostly welcome addition to the team. Meetings weren’t all that exciting and boredom was an awful temptation for a deity devoted to mayhem. In fact, Loki spent more time doodling in his notebook than listening to whoever was droning on about whatever part of the world needed the attention of this motley crew. That was, until Pepper Potts hired her new assistant. That you were polite, pretty and pert wasn’t lost on the young god. Sitting outside Mrs. Iron Man’s office, typing away with a phone tucked under your ear, moving faster than anyone he had ever seen was certainly impressive. You were quick witted, clever and most of all, funny. Everyone else seemed to fall under your spell without much effort on your part, something that Loki found frustratingly fascinating. Here he was, struggling to get people to say his name without having a traumatic flashback, while you simply smiled and smarted off prettily, and had everyone singing your praises. But Norns, were you adorable. If he thought about it, and while off planet, Loki definitely had, he could remember the moment he realized that you were the woman he wanted. You were busy, as always, fielding phone calls and flipping through screens yet every moment your flying fingers weren’t hovering over a keyboard or pushing down telephone buttons they curled around a heart shaped charm at your throat. Clearly, it was a habit and one that you weren’t even aware of, still - it transfixed him all the same. Watching you from his side eye, your voice never wavering, your tone always so pleasing, and your nimble digits returning again and again to the small sigil around your neck. “Loki?” “Huh?” Dumbfounded at your call, those deep sea eyes blinked wildly at the sound of his name on your lips. “Hi! Yes, Pepper can see you now. Go ahead, she’s ready!” He rose on stiff legs, adjusting his tie, about to lie to Tony Stark’s woman all for the chance to see you in passing. Who had he become? It started out innocent like that, but soon, Loki was having to invent excuses for being in the office so frequently. Missing files, random visits, even going so far as to buy Tony coffee just for the thrill of seeing you. Something needed to change, and quickly, or Loki was going to blow. On another made up errand, hanging around the executive’s high rise office, Loki was doing a bad job of pretending not to see you. His mind was on your pouty lips as you sipped lemonade through a straw and not on the stately woman seated behind the desk.

“Loki, you’re a man of some… style.” Pepper said it so casually that he almost didn’t hear, his head lost in thoughts that would shame any other person. “I like to think so.”

Shutting her folder with a snap, Pepper smiled, “And you’d love to help your old friend Pepper out, right?” That got his attention, and quickly. Loki, shoving his hands in his pockets, turned to face Pepper with a widening grin, “I feel like I’m being baited.”

“Baited? Never! It’s just, you’re always here and I have a… project that needs the kind of help that you can provide.” At those words you entered the office, ready for action with a notebook and pen, eager and excited. Suddenly, it was all clear to Loki, “Pepper, no.”

The noose closed in on the handsome god as Pepper gathered paperwork without looking his way, “Come on, it’s the Stark Homecoming Gala and the two of you will do great! I have faith in you both. I can’t wait to see what you come up with!” “Really, Miss Potts, I simply can’t-” Stopping short, the strawberry blonde whipped around, almost nose to nose with Loki. Shrewd and straightforward, Pepper interrupted, saying, “You’ve been dancing around my office for weeks now. Clearly you like her and… against all the odds, she likes you too. I’m doing you a favor and when someone does you a favor, you say “Thank You”.” “Thank you.” Nodding curtly, “You’re welcome. Now, make yourselves comfortable, order some dinner, my treat. And do whatever you need to make sure this is one great party!” That’s how Loki found himself sitting at a clear glass table over sweating bottles of iced tea as you discussed color themes and tablecloths. You were shy, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you reviewed notes from previous gatherings both large and small. His hands itched with wanting to do that job himself. “So, what do you think?” It was the first time you had addressed him directly since coming through the door and for a moment Loki couldn’t answer. You were too… not beautiful, that wasn’t the right word, although you were. No, you were too open, too easy to read, and the earnestness you offered him was downright frightening. Sitting forward in the uncomfortable, yet fashionable, office furniture, Loki cleared his throat and again tugged his tie, “What I think is that you should let me take you dinner.” Dropping your eyes, your cheeks colored slightly as your fingers found that locket charm once more, “Loki, I… I don’t know-” Grabbing for your hand, suddenly afraid that you would take those shining eyes away, Loki lowered his voice and did something he never thought he would. He begged. “Please? I find that you’re all I can think about.” It rushed out of him in a torrent, the way truth so often does, and he found himself unable to look you in the eye. Loki was afraid to see rejection on your easy to read face, afraid that wanting you had cracked open the lock box holding his heart, afraid that you would see just how weak you made him. Your fingers twined with his own as you replied, “You didn’t let me finish. I don’t know what took you so long.” Sighing with relief, his face melting into a genuine smile, “Me either.” Over the next two months the pair of you worked tirelessly to plan and execute a perfect party. You were inseparable during the day, heads buried together as you discussed linens and table settings, the quality of cocktail glasses, and debating over a band or a dj. But at night, at night Loki talked about the things that haunted him in the dark. And you loved him in spite of the awful things he had seen and done and said. Others took notice. Loki was more lighthearted, more available. He listened when people spoke and wasn’t constantly doodling during meetings. Yes, Loki was learning how to love through your loving him. If empathy had seemed too humane before, then sharing his life, his love with you, was the kind of immortality that earned someone a place in Valhalla. It was the bravest thing Loki Odinson had ever done and he didn’t mind one bit.

The first time Loki tasted you was burned into his brain, as bright as a flash of lightning. A firefly in a memory jar that he kept returning to, time and again. Loki remembered what you were wearing. He recalled exactly how the light shone in your eyes. If he concentrated, he could tap out the rhythm of your racing pulse as he held you in his arms. It was the night of the gala. Inviting everyone under the Stark Industries banner, up to and including the heroes tasked with saving the world, the event was a way to earn money for one of the many charities Tony supported. The place was full of beautiful people wearing gorgeous clothes under perfect lights set to the hand crafted soundtrack you had created together.

But, Norns, he could still remember the way your eyes sparkled under the lowlights of that hall. How your dress, simple but sophisticated, clung to the fullness of your bottom. Low cut but somehow still modest, Loki couldn’t tear his gaze away from the promise of your curves, willing himself to find anything else as interesting as the idea of you.

You were across the room hanging onto Tony’s every word, eyes bright and cheerfully glowing as you sipped champagne. It made Loki want to do something grand, something suave, something that would demand your attention for his own. Moving towards you, his tuxedo perfectly pressed and fitting better than it had any right to, Loki looked long and lean. Each of his steps seemed to echo, even though the room was full of sound, and you turned your head as if you also heard. Breaking away from the cluster of acolytes surrounding Iron Man, you bit into your lip as the crowd parted, moving closer together one step at a time. It was one of the sexiest things Loki had ever witnessed. Lifting your glass in a toast, taking in the room of mingling millionaires, wealthy hangers on and Avengers, “Well, we did it!” “You did it, my dove, I just hung around and judged everyone.” “Oh stop. I couldn’t have done it without you and you know it.” Playfully you pushed against his shoulder and Loki took advantage, using your momentum to pull you to his side, your curvy figure flush against his own. Crooning into the shell of your ear, his lips brushing over that sensitive skin, “Somehow, love, I think you would have managed.” Before you had time to think, Loki had melded his mouth with your own, stealing your breath along with your heart. Loki’s feet moved in time with the music as he pulled into a dance, laughing in his arms, your cheeks hot and your head swimming. You laughing was, without question, Loki’s favorite sound. Nothing in this world or any other came close to matching the joyful, childlike glee of that enchanting noise. Loki memorized its melody, the rise and fall of your giggle. He had craved it, being away for so long, and now he wanted… no, needed to hear it. But you were the furthest thing from happy at the moment.

"Darling, please. We have to go." Loki tapped his watch, shaking himself free from the memories of your previous life together and barely suppressing his irritation.

Tears filled your eyes as you whipped your arms around Thor’s mighty shoulders, his deep voice grumbly with emotion, "Take care of him, would you? He's a jerk, but Loki is the only brother I have."

"Of course… always. And Valkyrie, your highness, I can’t thank you enough for-"

"No need. Loki, and by extension yourself, will always have a safe haven here in my palace."

Looking on, Loki and Thor embraced almost tenderly before crashing their heads together.

"Stay safe, little brother."

"Be good, Thor."

Eyes on the sky, Val ignored the show of masculine emotion, chastising your plan, "You’re going to start a war, Loki."

Straight backed, Loki turned to the king, "Not on the grass of New Asgard. I will take the fight to them, that is my vow to you."

As Loki offered his hand, Valkyrie shook it, with parting words, "Work on staying alive. You have a tendency to worry your brother."

Solemnly nodding, "As the king commands. Shall we?" With that Loki laced his fingers with yours, leading you a few paces away from the people who loved him most, before summoning the magic that had you both transcending space and time.

This time when your feet touched down it was on the familiar turf of the orchard, surrounded by the scent of apple blossoms and the buzzing of happy bees. Morning had broken and the world seemed full of promise, with the exception of that knot in your stomach.

"Are you ready? Darling?"

"Oh… yes. I mean, I still don't love this plan, but-"

"But it's going to work." Only it was no longer the baritone voice of your long, lean Loki speaking. In his place stood Nick Fury, leather duster and eye patch in place.

"If you say so!" And you clutched your own throat as Natasha’s bored tones came out of your mouth. The suit, skin tight but flexible, molded to your modified form. All in all, you were comfortable, "The boots are a bit much."

"Ya think? This jacket weighs a ton." Pulling at his collar, "Why does he wear a turtleneck anyway?"

"Loki, this is so weird. It feels so weird."

"Agreed, but then, why am I so turned on?"

Laughing, you shook your false red hair, hands resting on Natasha’s waist, "God, I've missed you."

"Same, dearest. Now… let's get your necklace and some answers!"

---

Convincing Bucky to head home had taken a lot of work, but sometime around 2 am Steve had finally seen his friend off. The house was empty. Steve felt the same way.

Turning the black velvet box in his pocket, fingers crushed against the fragile fabric, Steve struggled to feel anger. When that didn't materialize he shot for sadness but even tears seemed beyond his ability.

With a sigh, climbing the same stairs he had trudged up a hundred times before, Steve started going through the motions of bedtime. Only tonight you weren’t there to tease him about the wildly inappropriate amount of toothpaste on his brush. He didn’t have your light footsteps to follow to the bedside or your help with stacking all of your extra, yet entirely essential, pillows on the chair.

Someone must have changed the sheets, he thought. There was no evidence of you and Loki’s adventurous afternoon anymore. Steve made a mental note to thank Buck for that little piece of kindness in the morning.

Shucking his shirt, Steve sat on the mattress, a hand to his forehead. He had lost. Captain America had been bested. Beaten. And by Loki, no less.

Moonlight in silver slivers shone through the window panes, squares of light in the deep of night. Steve was alone. Utterly and totally alone.

And there was no one to blame but himself.

Sighing hard, Steve stood, pacing the floor to work off some of the unspendable anxiety he kept creating. The room still had your energy, your vibe, as you liked to call it, and the feeling was a prickling itch Steve couldn’t quite satisfy. Traces of you were everywhere and something about you leaving all of it, and him, behind was just too big to process. “Damn it.” Even whispering sounded like thunder in the silence of your recently vacated room. His hands, so big, so strong, smoothed along the fabric of your hanging clothes. All that power had done nothing to help Steve get the thing he wanted. Sorting through the baubles and trinkets on your dresser, bottles of perfume he had purchased, necklaces and pins, each with a moment of memory it hurt him to recall. Your watch ticked away the minutes as he stood, stoic and still, surrounded by the shadow of you. In the orchard the birds were waking, their song filling the air, as morning broke in low golden rays. Abandoning his plan for sleep, Steve watched as the light chased away the dark, casting rainbows on the floor. The sun was reflecting off of your Grandmother’s necklace. A pretty, ancient, carved cameo, heart shaped locket. He recalled his own mother owning one just like it, pictures of loved ones pressed inside, holding them as tight as history would allow. Fisting the filigree chain, winding it around his fingers as if it would somehow undo what he had done, Steve slipped it into his pocket before settling back onto the bed. ----

At the back door to the home you so recently shared with Steve, Loki hung back, “I think this is where we split up. You go find your treasure and me… I’m going to find some answers.” Nodding, Natasha’s signature red hair swinging, you squeezed the hand holding your own. It no longer looked like Loki’s long fingered paw, but that was only a skin deep change. You felt the undeniable essence of him in the press of his fingers against your own. “Be careful.” “That’s no fun, dove.” “Loki-” You hated the way your voice broke as you said it, but there just seemed to be so much at stake and you had already lost him once. Sensing your unspoken concerns, Loki flashed you Nick Fury’s best smile, “I will. I promise.”

“Ten minutes.” “Ten minutes.” You watched the black coated back of your charmed paramour as he opened the shed door, hoping that he’d find something worth knowing in that place out of sight. Inhaling deeply you twisted the doorknob as quietly as possible, letting yourself into what was once your kitchen, “What a mess.” It was impossible not to notice the unwrapped leftovers and empty bottles littering the table. An overturned trash barrel, crumpled beer cans littering the counter, things that Steve, your Steve, would never have tolerated. All evidence that the grand evening he’d envisioned had been thwarted by Loki’s arrival and your collective escape.

You started up the stairs, praising Natasha's footwear for its stealth, when you heard the toilet flush and the unmistakable shuffle of Steve’s feet on the carpet. There was no place to hide on the wide stairwell. It was time to see if Loki's plan was going to work.

Voice blurry, eyes rubbed red and raw, you couldn't deny that Steve looked like shit, “Bucky? That you? You back?” Steve’s voice bounced around the brightening room as morning sunlight filtered through the soft sheers you had picked out for exactly this reason. Panicked, you backed into the railing with an over loud “Oof!” “Nat? What are you doing here? I thought you and Fury were headed to New Asgard?” Suddenly wide awake and wondering, Steve rushed to your costumed side, eager for information. The man in front of you now bore little resemblance to the angry Avenger you had escaped from hours before. This man had hair sticking up in odd angles from near constant finger raking. This man had a hint of a stuffy nose and red rimmed eyes, all indicators that tears had been shed. Now those blue eyes were scrutinizing you closely, full of concern.

“Uh… We... We got intel. Yea, intelligence, that Loki was headed back this way. Turned around… and uh, here we are.” One of those sandy blonde eyebrows lifted, “Natasha?”

Squaring your shoulders, channeling that cool confidence you’d see Black Widow display over and over, “Steve?” Something about your tone of voice convinced him in a way your words couldn’t. He visibly relaxed, those broad shoulders going slack as he asked, “Didn’t make it to Norway, then?"

Nodding a negative, you felt the unfamiliar brush of her red hair at your cheek and had to fight the urge to tuck it away, “No. Loki’s using some sort of transporting power to move them around. Fury suggested I keep an eye out here, in case they come back this way.” “She won’t be back, Nat. There’s nothing for her here.” To you, Steve sounded so sad, so removed, that you had to will yourself not to comfort the giant before you. “That’s not true!” It came out of you forcefully, thoughtlessly, and you saw the shock register on the Captain’s face. “That is, Fury and I… we… have reason to believe that she will come back. They left with nothing, Steve. She’ll need clothes… maybe some shoes… and-” Swallowing hard, you didn’t want to give anything away, “-a necklace from her grandmother.” Steve, patting his pocket, felt the weighted chain and it’s heart shaped locket, “I don’t think-” Stepping up to his bulky form, suddenly aggressive, you started, “Never mind what you think, Captain. We're here for a necklace... the necklace. Our intel suggests that your former flame might return for it and… And, I want it, with me, as a means to subdue her when she arrives." Sounding forceful and official was enough to back Steve down. Just a touch deflated, you watched him shrug, “If that’s what you want, Nat, here-” From his pants he pulled out the shining bauble, a trinket really, but full of sentiment and memory. Sitting in his palm, the tiny heart that held the picture of your grandmother and mother looked so small, almost unreal. Reaching for it with wet eyes, you smiled at Steve as you lifted the charm and chain, “Thank you, Steve. Thank you.” Nodding deeply, that golden head bobbing, “You’re welcome.” The large grandfather clock could be heard ticking throughout the house. The sun was gaining on the day and you, dressed as Natasha stood in silence in front of a somber Steve. For another long beat nothing was said, then, as if sensing a shift in your conversation, Steve flashed your fake Natasha a weak smile, “I could use some breakfast. How about you?”

“Um… sure. Yea, ok. Breakfast.”

Steve started moving again, downstairs towards the cluttered kitchen when he paused, "So how did you get back so fast? Cause that's like a 7 hour flight, even with you in the cockpit." “Steve…” You could hear it, the whining almost pleading tone that signaled the end of Loki’s well planned charade. That wasn’t enough to stop Steve. He broke hard, one of those strong arms stopping you in your tracks before you could reach the lower level. “It’s clever, I have to give you guys that. Almost perfect, really.” Panic rising, you doubled down on the ruse, struggling to keep your voice even, “I don’t know-” Blocking you in, his body the perfect unmovable buffer, “Loki’s here too, isn’t he?” Pushing against “Steve, I… I don’t…” “Don’t lie. You don’t have to…” “But… how-?” “You’re not mean enough to play Natasha, doll. Not by a long shot.”

--- It was strange to be seated at the table and chairs that you and Steve had picked out together one sunny Saturday when you thought that your future was going to be Loki-less. Your place, the one that you had imagined filling with children that had golden hair and bright blue eyes, felt like a set. Something false and fake. A facade, put together simply for show. Steve must have felt it too because his fingers drummed against the white washed table incessantly. Clearly he had something on his mind. “Steve-” “No. No. Please, let me just get this out, ok?” Raising an eyebrow, you waved at him to continue, nervous but interested in what the super soldier needed to explain. With a shaky inhale, running his constantly moving fingers through his golden locks, Steve caught your eye and didn’t waiver. “When I saw you… No, that’s not right. Let me start at the beginning. “When Loki left Earth, you… you were so sad. It hurt me to see you so… deflated.” “Steve, I-” “You know it’s true. When he returned to Asgard, something in you, it dimmed, and I just couldn’t allow that… Not when I felt the way I did about you. “I don’t think you realize just how incredible you are… how full of life! And since I had already missed one chance to be with you, I knew I needed to prove that I could be the man you needed… If you forgot about Loki along the way, even better. “Only… you never did. I waited years for you, ya know, doll? Years. And just when I thought there was no chance with you, Nat gave me a reason to hope. “She was your friend. An ally. Someone you could trust… someone I could trust. I swear it started out that innocently, at least for me. I just wanted to make you smile again. But she had other plans. Plans that came from higher up the ladder of SHIELD. “Fury, he wanted us to watch you… something about Loki being too powerful. And-”, grabbing your hand tightly, Steve emphasized his point, “-I promise you that I had no idea about his success, or the messages he had sent to you through Nick. Like you, I thought that Loki was gone. Missing. Never coming back.” “I… I believe you Steve. I know that you didn’t do all this on your own… but what was Nick hoping you’d find out? I knew less than nothing about what was going on!” “I think he was worried that Loki would get to you first. That if… when Loki returned, you would be his first stop. Then you would know about Loki’s success and, frankly, Fury’s failures. You would also know… well, everything you know now. That Fury had you tailed, lied to, and led on in an effort to stop Loki from out flanking him.” Frenzied and frantic, you felt anger boiling up inside of you, “But I thought Loki was gone forever. There was no hope for him and I… and Natasha, she told me that he was dead.” “All a part of Fury’s plan to keep you neutralized and Loki away. If Loki thought that you’d ignored his letters, that you no longer loved him, why would he come back here? And, if that didn’t work… when Loki came back and you were with me, what else could keep him on Earth?”

Whispering with realization, “So, they used you too.” Steve sighed and buried his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt, “Don’t feel bad for me. I let them use my love for you, let them twist it up and shape it as they needed. Honestly, I wish I could tell you that it was for you, but it wasn’t. It was for me. I wanted you, so, so badly. I didn’t care what strings were attached. And we built a life together, you and me. I thought I could outrun the reality of the constant monitoring and daily reports. Telling Natasha and Nick about every word and each email. Don’t you see, I love you… and I wanted you, however I could get you.” Shaking your head, Natasha’s red wisps flying, “That’s not love, Steve. I don’t know what that is… but love isn’t it.” “No?” With a loud thunk, Steve slammed a small velvet box on the table between you. “Is… Is that what I think it is?”

“Last night. It was going to happen last night. Our friends here, under the lights and the stars, I was going to ask you to marry me. I still would if-” Realization hit you like a ton of bricks, “If Loki hadn’t stepped back into our lives.” “-If Loki hadn’t stepped back into your life.” It made you both laugh in a sad way, how you finished the same thought, and for a fleeting second you could see why you had allowed Captain America to sweep you off your feet. He was a lot of things to you now, but there was a time when he had been almost everything. The evidence of that was in the small black square that said nothing but spoke volumes. “Steve, I don’t know if I would have said yes… even without Loki’s… arrival. I think I have always known that you and I… we are very different people.” Sitting back in his chair, his gaze still locked on your own, “I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I’m sorry about what I’ve done… what I’ve said… How, shit, how I’ve behaved. I could say that it was my duty. I could tell you it was out of love, but the plain truth is that I have always been jealous of what you and Loki share.” “You’ll find it Steve. You really will. There’s a person out there waiting for you. And once you’ve found them, oh Steve, you’ll see that this… what we had, it’s a shadow. An illusion. Because love, real love, doesn’t come with caveats and catches. It is an undeniable force which, in my case, even the boundaries of time and space can not deny.” Something like a sob burst out of Steve, and you were surprised to see tears in his eyes, “I was so wrong. Could you ever forgive me?” “I want to, Steve. I really do... “ What more could you say? Patting his hand you started to rise, “I have to go now. Loki and I need to keep moving and I don’t want to risk running into Nick and Natasha. At least, not yet, anyway.” “Where are you planning to go?” “To the Avenger’s Tower. I believe I know what Mr. Fury has been planning all along.” Loki’s strong voice entered the conversation as smoothly as his arms wrapped possessively around your waist. Steve took in the protective stance of your returned lover with a raised eyebrow, and without further comment asked Loki, “Really? And how are you going to breach the building? They’ll be looking for you, even with disguises… Fury is no fool. Plus, there’s little chance that Tony hasn’t activated a million safety and security protocols by now.” Only interested in you, Loki refused to give Steve any of his attention, “Getting in can’t be that hard! I’ll figure it out when I get there. Ready pet?” With a gentle push under his broad hands your feet started to move towards the door. Loki was eager to be off and away, especially after hearing so much of Roger’s confession. Just knowing what Steve had done, manipulating you while also convinced of his love for you; it was enough for Loki to commit murder. He was having quite a difficult time not tearing the good Captain’s limbs off his body. Softening his tone, Steve practically pleaded, “Loki. Wait. I… I can help.” Turning his attention fully to your former flame, Loki purred venomously, “You can help? I’d love to know what entails, Captain.” “I can get you into the place and take you exactly where you need to go. Fury’s going to hate it, but I’m tired of taking orders that hurt the people that-” His pause was as lingering as the look he gave you, “- That I love.” Before Loki could offer a sincerely sassy reply you grabbed his sleeve, tugging, “Um… Excuse us a minute Steve.” Pulling him down the hall of a home that felt like a familiar faced stranger, you waited until you had a bit of distance from Steve before harshly whispering, “How long were you listening?”

Serving you that small, sexy smile, Loki grinned, “Long enough. How did you know I was there?” “You are sneaky, but even you, God of Mischief, cast a shadow.” Swinging you close enough to catch your mouth with his own, Loki pressed a sweet kiss there before answering, “A mistake I will be careful not to make again!” “The tower, huh? That’s where you want to go?” Grabbing you at the swell of your hips, grinding his frame against your own, “Where I want to go, my darling, is to the nearest bed, preferably naked, with you and you alone.” Your hands traced over the lapels of his borrowed leather duster, pausing only to jerk him closer by the supple fabric, “Hmm… is that so?” “Oh yes…” Loki’s buttery grumble filled your ear as his strong hands dug into the flesh of your bottom. For a moment you thought he’d give in to temptation, his sweet lips teasingly close to your own upturned mouth, “But-” On your toes, leaning into Loki’s sturdy, leather draped frame, you paused, “Ugh. But?” Moving you to a safer, less kissable, arms length away, Loki sighed with the same frustration you felt, “-But, where we need to go, as soon as possible, is the Tower.” Moaning grumpily, you stepped out of the arms you longed to linger in, “I was afraid you were going to say that.” “I know it’s less than… ideal, love, but I did find something useful before the good Captain unburdened his soul this morning.” “And that is?” “Fury’s plan. At first I couldn’t figure out exactly what he was after. What did Fury want? How was I involved?” Loki was dragging this out, loving how it kept you hanging onto his every word, and you rolled your eyes, “Well? What is it? Weapons? War?” “All of that, yes… and… yours truly.” That triumphant smile that filled Loki’s whole face lit up his mischievous eyes. Tilting your head, struggling to make sense of what Loki had just told you, “What do you mean, you. Fury wanted you… to do what, exactly?’ “Loki was going to be the patsy.” You both turned toward the sound of Steve’s baritone at the door, suddenly remembering that the Good Captain was still there and that he was waiting to see what you were going to do next. Leaning his 100 year old bones into the doorframe, Steve crossed his arms, “The fall guy. An example of what happens if you cross SHIELD.” “I think, my dear Mr. Rogers, that you mean, I am to be used as an example of what happens if one crosses Nick Fury.” Loki countered, slinging an arm over your shoulder protectively. The idea was frightening. A man like Fury had too much power, too much at his disposal. Just knowing the lengths he had gone to in order to keep you and Loki apart was scary enough. Making enemies of your friends. Threatening the people you loved. Selling your affection to Steve in an effort to control Loki.

Now, the knowledge that all of it was done in an effort to ensure that Nick Fury was the toughest guy in the galaxy, it made your stomach clench. “What do you mean, an example?” “Unless my intelligence is flawed, I believe that Fury was going to kill me. Is that correct, Captain?” Steve felt the weight of two sets of eyes on him. Yours, full of fearful love and blind hope that this was all just some misunderstanding. Innocent and naive and as lovely as he could ever remember. Loki’s were reflecting a deeper understanding. The kind of knowledge that only time in the trenches teaches. There was no answer from Captain Rogers. None was needed. Honesty, final and resolute, was out in the open. “Look. I know I’m not the guy you want on your side. I’ve… I haven’t been the man I needed to be. Not for you-” Steve locked his bright blues onto you, offering a small smile that spoke of sadness before facing Loki, “-Or you, Loki. But if you let me help you now, I promise that I can get you into the tower and maybe, one day, you won’t think so little of me.”

Around you the morning gained strength. Somewhere nearby birds chirped wildly, blissfully unaware of the drama unfolding in the modest little farmhouse and its implications on intergalactic politics. Without moving a muscle, Loki plainly asked you, “Do you trust him, dearest?” Squaring your shoulders, you crossed your arms, staring down the man called Captain America. Nodding decisively, “I do. I don’t think he’d spill everything like that only to turn on us. He’s not so bad Loki, really.” “We’ll see about that. For now, we trust Steve. Ok, what’s your plan, Rogers?” --- “Hey. I… I have one other thing to show you.” Steve was dressed for action in his branded tactical gear, looking every inch the super soldier that Dr. Erskine envisioned. “Steve, we have to get moving. Loki’s eager and -” “Just open it, ok?” The envelope was thick with folded paper, the flap tucked under and not sealed. Clearly it had spent time in and out of pockets, the edges frayed and tattered. In exasperated curiosity you gingerly pulled the sheets free.

Shaking, your hands trembled holding the once white documents as your voice thickened, “Is this… is this what I think it is?” Cocking his head playfully, that rueful smile pulling at his full mouth, Steve almost seemed cheerful as he teased, “It’s yours. I think something about this place has always been yours and I want you to have it.” “But-” Folding your small hands in his mighty ones, Steve squeezed gently, “It was a wedding present, or it was supposed to be.” “But we’re not getting married.” “I know. Still-” “I can’t, Steve. It’s yours. Your house, your farm, your dream.” Shaking his head, disagreeing, but feeling lighter than he had in decades, Steve insisted, “Too late, I’m afraid. It’s done. Actually, that version of the deed has been signed since our second week here.” As realization sunk in you appraised the man changing right before your eyes, astonished but exhilarated, “Where will you go?” “I dunno. Think I might need to be alone for a bit. Maybe see the world… but first-” “First, we have to stop Nick Fury.”

To Be Continued... My Minxes: @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @iamverity @mizfit2 @sammy-jo1977 @wolfsmom1 @jessiejunebug @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @procrastinatinglikeabitch @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @alexakeyloveloki @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @jenjen8675309 @that-one-person @roguewraith @toomanystoriessolittletime @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote

#loki x reader #loki x you #you x loki #loki smut #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #mcu smut #MCU fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction

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stingslikeabee · 2 years ago

Note

“ look at me. “ ( verse of your choice <3 )

send “look at me“ for my muse’s reaction to yours grabbing mine by the chin and forcing mine to look at them during a tense / highly emotional moment . accepting

It was a good thing that her Guinevere had admirable hearing - if the queen’s favorite lady hadn’t picked up on the heavy and characteristic footsteps of King Frederik outside, he would have suddenly barged into his wife’s chambers to find her accompanied - and while a few in court suspected that Queen Lilian had more than just platonic favoritism for the blonde woman, the local sovereign did not pay any mind to idle court gossip.

He merely continued his rule as he had been taught to do so - to take whatever he wanted when he required it; consequences to others be damned. His cruelty was as renowned as the ferocity of his army, and there was just one reason for him to seek the woman that had been betrothed to him long ago, by a father that would surely weep if he knew what his eldest daughter experienced so frequently.

Guinevere had only time to hide in the adjacent washing chambers, hidden from the king’s sight - but not without her own senses preserved, of course. From her accidental front row seat, the lady in waiting witnessed the drunk screaming and the horrible sounds of leather connecting with flesh, of fisted hands meeting porcelain skin. Whatever had happened and which drove the king to the bottle that night - the ultimate receiving end was his wife, and Lilian endured everything without an expletive or complaint save for the regular painful moans and labored breathing.

It would be useless to call for help otherwise - who would go against the king and risk treason? At least she managed to never be badly injured to perish, if only because that would bring into question the goodwill and alliances that Lilian herself had brokered after their marriage. Her homeland supplied their kingdom with a steady amount of grain and meat; diplomatic relations had to be preserved.

It was only when King Frederik had his fill of the baseless violence he resorted to in all of his dealings that he left, angry steps taking him away and not pausing even once to send anyone to check on the queen. It was on that moment that Guinevere rushed forward, desperately looking for her beloved - and finding the woman on the floor of her chambers, evidently bruised and bloodied from a set of cuts above her eye and lip.

“Lilian!” her voice was frantic; for a moment, the lady in waiting did not care if anyone else heard them, although it was unlikely given how readily Frederik had moved away. Gone were all formalities and title requirements - the blonde maneuvered her sovereign on the floor with care, and bowed down to press a myriad of gentle kisses to her face whenever the skin was intact - some measure of love and affection to counter the pain and humiliation.

“Lily, my love,” Guinevere called to her, then grabbed the queen’s face by the chin as softly as she could, words dripping from her lips without any regard for station or social class, “Look at me, Lily. Can you hear me?”

“Yes, Gwen...” the older woman replied eventually, and there was a ghost of a small, pained smile on her features as she spoke. Out of everything - she regretted that her lovely friend and companion had borne witness to such a terrible spectacle. The hurt was flowing in ever single gesture from Guinevere, and she hated that she suffered by proxy so immensely. “I am... Sorry you had to see... Everything.”

“Don’t talk, Lily - let me help you, I will get some water, clean towels and get you some proper rest. I’m here, my love - I will protect you, Lilian. He will not treat you like this again, I promise you this,” Guinevere said with a fierce determination that was not reduced in anything by the clear, shiny tears dropping from her eyes, “I will keep you safe even if that is the last thing I do.”

#rosegoldandsequins #v: Yakuza ; vampire AU #look at me #replied #abuse tw #okay so #I decided on some nice foreshadowing :3 #for our favorite lioness

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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

Text

RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Worthy”

Happy Saturday, everyone! I mean that seriously for once. Regardless of what I have to say about this episode — and as always, there's a lot — I want it on the record that "Worthy" was leagues ahead of... pretty much everything else we've gotten lately. For all of RWBY's continuing problems, there's a level of effort here that I really do appreciate. Especially for the penultimate episode.

Our title, "Worthy," immediately conjures thoughts of Watts' speech about Cinder needing to be "worthy" of the power she craves and, what do you know, our villains work hard to prove their worth this episode. Hallelujah! We start with the heroes though and do you recall how last week I said that our opening may as well be a summary of the whole series since Volume 6, what with the grimm conveniently avoiding the team's airship and them just looking vaguely sad that the people around them are perishing? Well, same here. Or rather, same problems, different flavor. Oscar opens with the question, "What do we do now?" and no sooner has he asked that then the magic portal appears to give him the answer. Useful!

More seriously though, I've been intensely side-eyeing the group's wish since last week. Not (just) because of the awful decision to turn Penny human, but simply because the story emphasized how "smart" the group was, heavily insisting that their portal plan is a masterpiece of well thought out strategy... and I really don't think it is. There was a lot of confusion last episode about how exactly the group was using the vault, with my own interpretation — that they were funneling everyone to Vacuo's vault — proven wrong today, but one of the problems brought up was how Ambrosius could possibly create portals across a kingdom precisely where the group needs them. Yang asks him,

"Can you make a bunch of doorways in Atlas that open at a single spot in Vacuo?"

To which, simply, Ambrosius says no. He'd need, among other things, "coordinates and specs for each door" and "an explanation for bending space and time."

This is why, prior to the very end of "Creation" where we saw portals appearing everywhere, I thought using both vaults was the solution. Ambrosius knows (or can easily receive) the coordinates for his own vault and the one in Vacuo. As weird, alternate dimensions, they're potentially capable of bending space and time as necessary. If you put the portal in Atlas' vault and open it up in Vacuo's vault, you're golden. The only challenge now is getting everyone in the kingdom to the Winter Maiden's vault.

But then... that didn't happen. Apparently the vault just becomes the in-between place for everyone to pass through and the portals appear all over the kingdom, even though the group didn't provide those "coordinates and specs." What they did was show Ambrosius a schematic of the cities. That's not the same thing as telling him precisely where each portal needs to appear — which is what he asked for. I bring this long-winded explanation up not merely to emphasize "RWBY's wish isn't as smart as the story wants you to believe it is" but because this wreaks havoc on who is getting a portal. How did the group tell Ambrosius precisely where to put a portal for Jaune's group? Why didn't they try to make one appear for Qrow and Robyn? Or Winter? Or Pietro and Maria? They had to have been somewhat specific in terms of saying where these portals appeared because if they just wished for everyone to get one, Jacques and Ironwood would have gotten one too. Basically, the portals do appear for characters whose “Worthy” plot now takes place in this in-between space and the portals do not appear for those whose plot is still taking place in Atlas. That's a mess. To say nothing of how it implies that our heroes just don't give a damn about all their other allies — including an uncle (Ruby, Yang) and a father (Penny) — and that, ultimately, Ambrosius did the very thing he initially said wouldn't work. He put a bunch of doors around Atlas that opened on a single point in Vacuo without making the group meet these requirements first. The rest is just a bunch of mumbo jumbo to distract the viewer from the fact that none of this actually makes sense.

But that's a tangent. To get back on track, Jaune's group decides to "spread the word on foot" since they can't contact anyone via their scrolls anymore. What this translates to is Jaune going to one spot and Nora doing the rest of the work because she can suddenly ride her hammer like a broomstick.

You know what? I'm fine with it. Have we ever seen Nora do this before? Not that I recall. Is it a cute image that feeds my witch-loving brain? Yeeeeeaah.

They're not sure if the portals are safe though and everyone turns to Jaune as the joke test subject. Except everyone else is right behind him when the go through? Even the jokes in this show aren't consistent.

What I do like though is that we get another interesting team split: Oscar, Emerald, and Ren heading to Vacuo while Jaune and Nora help with the evacuation — even though Nora and Jaune aren't actually doing anything together. Still, I can see that (for this volume at least) RT has taken the duo criticisms to heart. It would have been incredibly easy to attach Nora and Ren at the hip again, despite her desire for space, so I'm glad that they're still striving to mix things up a bit.

Nora says that Shade is "armed to the teeth with huntsmen and huntresses." It is? I mean sure, it has its school, but so did Vale. So did Atlas. In fact, we've spent the last two volumes emphasizing that Atlas is really the only armed kingdom remaining. Remember the plan for them to protect the world after knowledge of Salem's existence threw everything into disarray? Well, the people know about Salem now. And Salem herself is attacking. And they're about to slam an entire kingdom into another one. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad Nora ends her observations with the assertation that Vacuo will need as much help as they can get, but that worry feels far, far too late. Where were these concerns when Ruby made her announcement to the world in the first place? The fact that the group never went, "Hey, is it really worth telling people about Salem now when we can no longer provide the protection against the grimm that this announcement will necessitate? Yeah, we need backup, but can they even get here in time? I don't think so. Maybe we should hold off and try to find a way to solve this ourselves. Or, at the very least, just tell them Atlas is facing a massive grimm attack. That won't create quite the same panic as 'Magic immortal lady eager to kill you all' will."

Our heroes only acknowledge these problems when they're already neck deep in them. Forethought is not their strong suit.

For our obligatory humor, the people of Atlas are hiding behind the staircase after the evil portal appeared (weren't there, like, twenty of them in the last episode?) and a brave dude trying to toss a rock through accidentally hits Jaune. He — I kid you not — uses the Atlas huntsmen license gifted to him by Ironwood to gain authority over the group.

Talk about the story being tone deaf.

We segue to a shot of Penny who flies herself through the portal using the Maiden powers, precisely as she would have with her boots. Okay, I try not to pull many "I told you so"s because that's rude, petty, and all around just shit behavior... but boy is it tempting at times. Because RWBY's fandom is so staunchly against criticism that even the most polite pushbacks boil down to an equally rude "Just wait" mentality. Readers of these recaps know we were told to "just wait" for the group to talk to Ozpin. Or "just wait" for them to be punished for their crimes. "Just wait" for the complex forgiveness arc the group is sure to undergo with Emerald. "Just wait" is the go-to response when someone doesn't entirely disagree with our problems with the show, but still believes we're not giving RT enough credit. Most recently, I was told to "just wait" in regards to Penny. We don't actually know that her body is human. We don't actually know that her Maiden powers will still be the same. We don't actually know that this won't be the start of a long journey wherein she has to figure out how to use this new body, both on the battlefield and off. And the issue of RWBY failing to answer any of these questions isn’t valid criticism either because the only point being made here is that we’re not patient and supportive enough. Just wait. RT will prove you wrong.

Well... Penny's body still appears entirely human, her Maiden powers still work just fine, and now they've given her the ability to create all her old weapons out of aura, meaning she fights exactly the same as she did before.

The only thing making Penny human did was force her to fight barefoot. Oh, and erase her journey of accepting herself as an android.

Again, I don't want to be that asshole, especially when so many people want the show to be better — just like I do. By all means, hold out hope with me. But before slamming into someone's inbox to explain why they're being too negative because things are bound to be taken seriously down the road, keep in mind the staggering number of times we've decided to "just wait" and nothing ever came of it. Keep in mind that RWBY should be tackling these questions and expectations from the start. Now here we are, disappointed again. We're not pessimistic because we want to be, we're pessimistic because there's a clearly established pattern at play.

So Penny's change is, at this point, meaningless for her development and, at this point, we've lost the chance to introduce challenges later. If RT does, we're forever going to wonder why Penny didn't express any doubts upon waking up in a human body, or why she didn't face any problems while fighting another Maiden. Like Emerald getting the group to laugh and immediately being trusted with important duties, it's too late to suddenly backtrack and insist that there's still work to be done here. RT missed their chance.

That fight is a few minutes off though. For now, Oscar and the others arrive in Vacuo to discover that there's a sandstorm going on. Who could have ever expected that?

Seriously though, this is just one of the many reasons why our heroes come across as stupid. They deliberately chose to send everyone "outside the city limits of Vacuo," in a desert kingdom, after Ruby got the entire world panicked about Salem, and they somehow didn't think that a) weather might be a problem or b) grimm were going to show up? These characters have been though enough shit that they should be planning for the worst and hoping for the best, not planning for the best and assuming the worst just won't happen to them. Why wouldn't they have everyone appear inside the kingdom if they (against Ambrosius' rules) got to choose where everyone ended up? Why in the world would they rely on communications being up when CCT has been spotty since Volume 3 and Watts just took out Atlas’ entire system? Our characters don't think anything through — despite Ambrosius’ claims otherwise — and it makes for some pretty awful characterization. Because RWBY isn't trying to be a story about teenagers seriously messing up their attempts at heroics, it's trying to be a story about True Heroes... and we're just supposed to ignore the endless number of times the group doesn't think the most basic problems through. So now, Oscar and the other stand there doing nothing for the rest of the episode because a sandstorm in the desert threw a wrench in their plans.

The only reason I didn’t bring this up last week is because I had no idea they had chosen to dump everyone outside of the city. I thought they were going to the vault, or at the very least appearing inside the border. Why wouldn’t you send everyone to the city??

It’s so stupid, but then Cinder arrives and blows a whole bunch of people off the edge of the pathways. HELL YEAH.

I mean, obviously not hell yeah for the poor civilians who just took a tumble, but yay the villain causing some damage. It's small potatoes compared to what we were promised at the end of last volume — Salem decimating a whole kingdom in The Fall of Atlas — but at least it's more than we were getting last week.

So Cinder is having her evil fun when the entire group leaves Penny to go after her. Again, stupid. You're going to leave the girl who (at this point) may not have been in a position to fight with her new body and stands vulnerable with a Relic? Not a single member stays behind to guard her? It would have served Team RWBY right if Neo had shown up and just clocked Penny, taking a second Relic for herself.

Cinder taunts the group with information she shouldn't have: “Your little friend Oscar was right, but the easy part ends here" then mimics them with the question "How’d you know about that?” at their shocked looks. This starts a flashback where we return to Cinder, Neo, and Watts in the alleyway.

Again Cinder is given more development than a supposed hero like Emerald, apologizing to Neo for not upholding her end of their bargain. In fact, Cinder displays more growth here than our entire title characters combined, it's just that her growth turns her into a better villain. She apologizes to Neo, compliments Watts as a means of acknowledging the work he's accomplished — “You tore this kingdom apart with nothing but your intellect. How about we finish what you started?” — and tells the heroes that she did learn something from them: “Sometimes, if you want to win, you simply can’t do it alone.”

I quite like all of this. Again, not that Cinder should be our biggest threat with Salem on the scene, but if you remove that context this is a great moment for her. She's actually learned something, but instead of following in the rather abrupt and, in Hazel's case, nonsensical footsteps of her peers, what she's learned has made her more dangerous, not a sudden, convenient ally. Since Volume 7 RWBY has hammered home the idea that only friends can truly be a good team and now, well, Cinder is kind of making friends. She's apologizing to Neo. She seems glad that Watts is happy. RWBY took the concept of working together and applied it to our villains with devastating effect. Team RWBY has been skating by on the idea that power comes from friendship, so what happens if your enemies become weird friends too?

To be clear, this doesn't erase the staggering number of other problems with Cinder's character, or the villains as a unit, or the volume as a whole... but it is an interesting step in the right direction. Props for that.

Granted, outside of the fight itself, the villains don't really win because they're smart, the heroes are just — again — staggeringly stupid. Cinder promises to get Ruby for Neo if she can ask Jinn a question... which she does!

This moment could have been avoided if our heroes had just put the Lamp in the vault. Or not had Oscar carrying it around. Or used up the wish after they'd already summoned Jinn. Cinder's victory here rests entirely on her own enemies' ineptitude. At least she has the smarts to exploit it. She asks Jinn what the group's plan is and our three villains are shown the revelation outside after saving Penny and the discussions that took place in the dining room. They learn everything they need to inflict maximum chaos.

And it’s great.

Three other details of note:

Cinder spots Emerald with the heroes during Jinn's vision, but doesn't have much of a reaction beyond her expression tightening.

Jinn looks sad when she reveals the group's plan, reinforcing the idea that she's biased towards our heroes. I'd be more on board with that characterization if a) she weren't created by Light whose own Good Guy persona is dubious at best, and b) she wasn't so cruel towards Ozpin. Again, it's just this strange insistence that everyone adore Ruby Rose.

Neo reveals the Relic by pulling it out of Roman's hat. Uh... is that how hats work? They contain objects twice their height? While resting on someone's head? This wasn't one of Neo's illusions, she literally just pulled it out like a real world magician. That's weird. Showy, but weird.

Anyway, the flashback continues as the villains infiltration the Atlas military headquarters. I really enjoyed the music and cinematography here. It's a strangely uplifting tune — rather Cinderella-esque — which doesn't appear to work until you remember that these moments are through Cinder's perspective. Of course this is a Happy Ending for her — even if it's not for the audience. The quick cut between her summoning some fire and the whole room alight, bodies everywhere, was an excellent touch.

The happiness of this moment is then emphasized by Neo skipping as she beats people and Watts admitting that this is "everything I’ve ever wanted." I'm really digging the contrast between this scene's celebratory nature and the knowledge that the story is celebrating the wrong characters. It creates an enjoyably uncomfortable feeling for us and helps flesh out the villains more. From their perspective, life is good.

There's even a shot of that #1 Dad mug. Sometimes, RWBY gets it right.

Watts in particular is enjoying himself. He snags a discarded apple — no fairy tale symbolism there, I'm sure — and casually rubs the blood off it before taking a bite. This guy has style!

Watts watches Jaune try to send out his message to the kingdom and cuts communication at the worst possible moment. But then, we knew that already.

Elsewhere in the facility, Robyn and Qrow are trying to round up the Ace Ops. They all feel Atlas shake, realizing that the group has used the Relic, and Elm is appropriately horrified. "They'll destroy the kingdom!" Robyn says some self-righteous words about how a kingdom is made up of its people, not the land it exists on, which, while ignoring the importance of land to so many cultures, completely ignores that right now the majority of people are still on Atlas, or below it, including them. "They set the house alight!" someone cries. "Who cares about a stupid house," Robyn says, uncaring that the entire family still resides inside and she's starting to inhale smoke.

As Robyn tries to paint herself as a hero, Watts hacks one of the droids and sets it to self-destruct, telling it to run full-tilt at the group. Their weapons don't stop it and at the last second Marrow throws himself in front to take the blast, shattering his aura. Uh... after everything we've seen in this show, a single, small explosion wipes out his aura? I don't care about that so much here, but I absolutely care about it for an upcoming scene. Keep this in mind.

Also, I'm not going to get into the potential problems of trying to execute Marrow, beating up Marrow, and then blowing up Marrow. Others can tackle that leviathan of a subject.

At least he survived? But only RT knows if Robyn and Qrow bothered to put him on their ship.

Because as Atlas begins to fall Harriet, free of Marrow's semblance, races for an airship going off the edge of the open parking garage. Idk what else to call that space. I'm sure there's something appropriately military-esque, but we're going with parking garage for now lol. This is the one — one — moment where I felt like the Ace Ops were actually written like they weren't friends, what with Harriet's willingness to race off and leave them behind. Again though, it's too late and there are, frankly, other aspects to consider. Like the fact that Marrow just betrayed her. I don't think she's in the right mind for trusting the rest of her team, especially when there are only seconds to save herself.

Vine uses his stretchy arms to grab hold of her ship though and heaves himself on board.

Cutting to the jail, Ironwood wakes up and is greeted with a despondent Jacques. As Ironwood realizes that the group has the Staff, Jacques goes, "That's right, you lose! … we both lose." Before there can be any interesting discussion though, Ironwood's cell... goes out???

I suppose the explanation for this is things falling apart as Atlas descends, but man is that another moment of head-scratching convenience. What's even worse is that Winter apparently just left his weapons beside the cell. "Hey, what should we do with Ironwood's giant gun?" "Idk, leave it for him on the off chance us removing the city's power source wreaks havoc with the electrical bars?" I mean seriously. At least Qrow had to go find his weapon in a locker.

For a second Jacques is thrilled, sure that Ironwood will open his cell too... right?

He does open the cell, by blasting the whole thing to smithereens, Jacques included.

You all know I'm horribly disappointed with how they've written Ironwood, but I can't bring myself to dredge up any fury over this murder. It's Jacques. You know, the abuser and slave owner who has never shown a single shred of decency? Can't say I'm sorry to see him gone, especially since one of the Schnee girls were never going to kill him. The only other thing they could have done was have Jacques die an accidental death.

So villain!Ironwood can have another murder, as a treat.

Meme jokes aside, it's interesting that Ironwood's never-seen-before-last-episode gun produces a green blast and fire. It looks incredibly similar to what Penny created as an android and the fire around her Maiden eyes. Unlike Watts' apple though, I don't think this is a parallel RT intentionally included. Not unless we want to dig deep for more “Metal bodies = evil” symbolism, but there’s already plenty more persuasive examples of that.

Returning to Team RWBY, we finally come to the highlight of the episode: Yang falling off the edge.

Okay, I want to praise RWBY for having the guts to kill off a main character... but we all know they haven't killed off a named character. If next episode — or perhaps even next volume — it's revealed that Yang is really dead, I'll happily eat these words. For now though, this is not the consequence that RWBY critics have asked for. This is, in fact, quite a mess.

Let's count up all the ways this scene has failed spectacularly.

No one believes that Yang is actually dead. Not just because she's a title character, not just because Ambrosius never confirmed that the void was deadly or even dangerous — "Don't fall," however ominous, doesn't actually tell us what happens to someone who falls — but also because we have been here before. Three volumes ago. Remember how it looked like Weiss would die only for Jaune to unlock his semblance and save her? Yeah. The audience is both genre and RWBY savey. This cliffhanger feels cheap because absolutely no one is fooled.

Feel familiar?

Worse, Yang falls because of another round of stupidity. Nothing about this moment is convincing.

First, she notices Neo sneaking up on Ruby. What's her reaction? To flare her semblance, charge her in fury, and be horribly injured. Oh wow, where have we seen this before?

This is the exact same series of events from Volume 3. A loved one of Yang's is about to be harmed, she gets mad, charges without thinking, and takes the brunt of the attack herself, resulting in a far more serious injury than likely would have otherwise occurred. Emotionally understandable, but stupid. More importantly, it's the exact thing Tai tried to warn her about. The fandom praised Yang's arc because she got a moment of calm with Mercury, but since then we’ve ignored that development, reverting Yang to the same, impulsive fighter as before. Volume 6 showed us this problem in a non-combat setting and this moment solidifies it. Yang has learned absolutely nothing since Beacon. She's the same protective, reckless fighter she was back then, getting herself grievously injured because she can't think before she acts. What was the point of sending her on that journey if she was never going to improve?

Neo cuts through Yang's aura in a single hit. A single hit. These characters have long, drawn out fights filled with crazy attacks and you're telling me a single slice of Neo's weapon is enough to shatter Yang's aura? Really, aura has been an absurd plot device for a while, but this volume has been particularly bad. Ren's aura breaks so the group is spotted by Salem's grimm, but then is back just a few minutes later so he can see purple petals around Emerald. Jaune's aura is said to be running just as low, but then is totally fine to boost Penny for the next hour until she reaches the vault. Now, Yang has had just as much time to rest as they do, but she’s instantly taken out?

This is a problem not because the loss of aura itself sends her over, but because the hit was apparently so powerful Yang passes out. She's groggy at least, blearily looking at everyone as she falls, but not reacting to them and, importantly, not trying to save herself.

Yang could have reached for Blake's throw. She has a landing strategy. She could have blasted herself up, or towards any of the three paths she falls past. Instead she just... plummets. In a show where our characters are introduced through their ability to survive being launched off a cliff. Neo's attack needs to be miraculously incapacitating to justify — "justify" — Yang doing nothing to get out of this situation, in an episode where, minutes later, Ren's aura will also go out (again) but he's standing up and ready to fight a horde of grimm. But losing her aura through one hit somehow incapacities Yang?

Also, to ward off the expected claims: she didn't hit her head. Yang's back hit the path and her eyes were closed before she ever made contact. Neo's hit just... knocked her out.

That's absurd.

Worse than her not helping herself, no one else on her team helps either. Except Blake. Ruby, who this volume has learned that she is basically able to teleport and negate the mass of carrying someone else, doesn't fly towards her sister. Weiss, who can summon flying grimm and create platforms for someone to land on, just reaches out a hand. They all had time to do something, Blake's action is proof of that, but neither of them did. Why? Because the show wants this to be a bees moment. I say that not as someone who hates the ship, but as someone who loves it. Or at least, I've always loved its potential, but if you need to prove their devotion by erasing the devotion of others... that's incredibly bad writing. And that's what this is. The choice to have Blake the only one capable of acting sends the message that she loves Yang enough to overcome the shock of her falling. That love powers her to act. But Yang is Weiss’ teammates too! Yang is Ruby's sister.

You’re telling me neither of them had the drive to push past shock and save her?

I find it particularly insulting that Weiss comforts Blake rather than crumbling in grief herself. I find it doubly insulting that Blake cries and screams, but Ruby stoically continues her fight with Neo. In trying to show Blake's love for Yang — and hers in turn — the show has unintentionally pulled back on the love everyone else has, even between siblings. This is a far more harmful repetition of Yang's moment in the outpost: she cares more about the imagined disagreement with Blake than she does the actual fight she had with Ruby. Blake shows more emotion for Yang's assumed death than her sister has. You can't prove love by diminishing it elsewhere. The scene 100% needed all three girls doing everything in their power to save Yang, failing, and then continuing the fight while expressing the appropriate emotion for such a massive loss. Ruby can fly towards Yang and be pinned by Cinder. Weiss can start to summon and have an attack disrupts it. Ruby can scream and cry while she fights Neo. Again: that's her sister.

There's nothing about this scene that works for me and honestly? After Yang returns they better kiss. Or there better be an "I love you." Something canonical. There will never be a better, more obvious time for a confession than after Blake thinks she's lost Yang for good and if we don't get one... the ship has well and truly sunk. We're living in a post-Supernatural finale world. You can no longer take your one, implied to be queer main couple, toss one into this fantasy's version of super hell, give them a second chance together... and then leave things dangling. RWBY has to make them canon when Yang returns if they have any hope of maintaining a large portion of their queer fanbase.

As a final note on this scene, I don't like what it implies about both Blake and our lost civilians. Like Yang, (and like Penny last episode) this attack undermines the growth our characters have undergone. Yang learns not to attack out of emotion with her semblance... and then does just that. Penny learns that she's a person with an android body... and then gets a human body to make her perfect. Blake realizes that she isn't willing to kill people in this war anymore... and then goes after Neo with an intensity that implies she's ready to kill her. It's a detail that might have been meaningful if Blake's struggle had existed in more than a single line in a single scene. As it is, it just feels like they've forgotten — or are ignoring — another character beat they introduced.

As for our civilians, will the show bring them back too? Look, I'm pleased Cinder blew them off the edge. I'm glad there were finally consequences for the kingdom-wide attack, even if none of have to come about from our main antagonist. But that impact was erased the second they threw Yang off the edge too. If they bring only her back, Team RWBY look like assholes who only care about their friends, not all the people they were charged with protecting (a recurring theme in this series). If they do bring the civilians back, we've lost that consequence. RWBY never should have tossed a title character into that void especially when, as said, everyone watching knows it's not a real consequence of this fight.

This was a terribly crafted scene, imo. If the only purpose here is to push the bees to confess, we could have gotten that after the whale. Yang was captured by Salem. That's more than enough danger to justify coming clean about feelings and the volume could have easily been reworked to make Blake aware of that danger, forcing her to stew in it until Yang returned, unharmed.

Instead we get this.

Also, I don't even want to get into the implications of having Yang disappear in a cloud of glittering gold dust like Pyrrha did. That's a world building rabbit hole RWBY really doesn't need.

So Yang is gone but obviously not gone. Blake is the only one impacted by this enough to react emotionally. Penny hears her scream and comes running, showing the viewer that absolutely nothing had changed despite getting an entirely new body.

Cinder weirdly throws her voice — has she done that before? — to distract Penny and the fight continues, with Neo going after Ruby and Blake going after Neo. There's a moment where Blake realizes that Weiss is in trouble too, looking between her two teammates, unsure of who to help.

I'm calling it now: Blake will be the third semblance upgrade, splitting herself into multiple fighters capable of functioning independently, rather than just shadow clones to take hits.

It would make as much sense as anything else.

Cinder at least is fighting smart, attacking the civilians rather than Weiss directly, then blowing her glass up in Weiss' face. She then manages to catch herself in the air, but, you know, couldn't do the same for Yang.

At the very least don't have Weiss using these abilities seconds later, c'mon.

We thankfully leave this nonsense for, well... more nonsense. Vine and Harriet get into a fight about what Clover would have wanted, which means nothing to the viewer because we didn't know Clover long enough to develop that sense for ourselves. I'm sorry, but following an order to peacefully bring Qrow in for questioning is not proof that he would have seen things through in the sense of blowing up Mantle, yet that's what we're supposed to believe based on Harriet's assertions and Vine's take that "perhaps Clover was wrong." I really hate that RWBY has taken to bashing the guy before he had the chance to actually do anything. Everyone is criticizing Clover based on lies or assumptions about what he might have done if, you know, he hadn't been murdered. Qrow blames Clover for defending himself, not his own choice to team up with Tyrian. Robyn asserts that Qrow is a better huntsmen than Clover, even though the one scene they had together was Robyn deciding to attack Clover because she didn't like him doing his job. Now Vine is like, "Yeah, Clover might have tried to blow up a kingdom needlessly, but maybe he was wrong and a bad person, you know?" I don't even like Clover that much, but the story has really gone out of its way to criticize him when he's obviously not around to prove, disprove, or otherwise defend himself. That’s messed up.

The one good part about this scene is Harriet losing it, all her firm beliefs crumbling to reveal just an aching grief for losing Clover. Hark, is this humanity for the other Ace Ops I see? Some development and characterization? Vine reaching out sympathetically to comfort her because they've always been a team, no matter what Ruby might say about it?

Oh wait, no. They're interrupted by Robyn screaming as she slams her ship into theirs.

I think Robyn is, officially, my least favorite character in the series. Which isn't to say there aren't objectively worse characters than her — we saw one get blown up this episode — but no one has this particular combination of horrible acts, self-righteous attitude, and an absolute dearth of other positive qualities to distract from that. Robyn has brought nothing to the last two volumes except frustration and I can only hope she goes off to do her own thing when our finale is done.

Qrow goes feral, turning into a bird and changing at the last second to slam through Harriet's window. He taunts her about getting the fight she wanted and we see Watts hacking her ship while they're distracted.

Watts, I'm really loving the evil schemes, but don't you want to, uh... leave? Atlas is falling and you're one of maybe three people left on it. Best get a move on, chop, chop.

Those other two people are Winter and Ironwood, both of whom have come to the vault looking for Team RWBY. Ironwood lands a hit with his new gun, giving a short speech about how though he was always on the lookout for betrayal, he never expected it from her. He tells Winter to stand aside as his final order, to which she replies, “I’ve never wavered in fighting the enemies of this kingdom," preparing to fight.

I've explained the problems with Ironwood's downfall ad nauseam. I don't think that's needed again here. However, there are two final points I'd like to make.

Winter's characterization took a hit along with Ironwood's. Why didn't he think she'd ever betray him? Because they clearly cared for one another. The fact that Winter so quickly and easily gave up on Ironwood is a disservice to both of them. Even in the throes of being an emotionless killer, we still understand Ironwood's devastation at this betrayal: his shock when Winter attacked, his request that she step aside now, the single tear.

There's nothing like that on her end. No denial that the man she faithfully followed would do this. No insistence that the man who helped her escape her abusive upbringing be reasoned with. Nothing. Winter dismisses Ironwood with the same callousness the narrative has.

Which brings me to my second point: this isn't hopeful. I know the Emerald lovers don't want me making comparisons, but the story has already done that for us. You can't give us an all out villain — someone responsible for countless deaths across the series, attacks on kingdoms, lying to our heroes, willingly working for the enemy — and say that it's good to forgive her instantly, but it's not acceptable to even consider forgiving the man who has also killed, also threatened to attack a kingdom, was honest with our heroes, and always fought against the enemy. You can't give us an entire story about hope and forgiveness — Ruby reaching out to Raven, Weiss wanting to rescue Jacques, Oscar putting all his trust in Hazel — while saying that this character isn't worth compromising with. This character needs to be denounced to the whole world so there's no possibility of forgiveness. This character will commit horrific acts and his allies will immediately jump ship, but others? Their horrific acts are forgiven the moment you give them a way out. I'm supposed to believe that Yang, who knew Emerald only as the woman who attacked her school and has helped make their lives a living hell since then, will laugh with her within an hour, but Qrow, after years of being an ally and friend to Ironwood, is suddenly ready to murder him over an arrest he had no context for? That Ruby will try to make peace with every enemy she comes across, but not the guy who was the ally she betrayed? That Winter would extend more compassion to her abusive father than the man who helped her escape that? Ironwood's downfall isn't just horribly written, it messes with RWBY's core themes. Everyone deserves a second chance, is worth crying over, is worth reaching out to no matter how many horrible things they've done... except this guy here.

And when that guy is the PTSD riddled military vet who crumpled in large part because the heroes continually lied to, betrayed, and took extreme action rather than working to find a compromise... that's a really bad take. That shows a lot of bias on the part of RT. They're trying to write a story about the evils of the institution, but think they can reduce that to the evils of a single man driven to the brink. That doesn't send a teachable message to the audience and it certainly doesn't send a hopeful one. All it does is reiterate that if you rip away someone's support network when they're already falling they will, shockingly, fall harder.

Which brings us back to characters like Emerald. Because no, no one has to help Ironwood. When someone is hurting you and committing the crimes he has this volume, no one is required to extend a hand at their own, personal peril. But when the narrative is so heavily pushing forgiveness for other mass-murderers? When child torturers are extended a hand during the torture? That reframes everyone abandoning Ironwood into something unpalatable. Having Ironwood’s allies, friends, and really, family, so quickly toss him aside while other, equally bad people are welcomed in says that everyone struggling like him isn’t worth the effort. From a genre perspective, this isn’t a tragedy because the characters don’t care. No one is striving to bring Ironwood back from the brink. No one is crying over the man they lost. Hazel gets a moment of silence as Emerald kneels, stricken in the aftermath of his death, but one of the heroes since Volume 2 gets nothing but hateful looks from his second.

But we all knew we'd end up here. My current theory? The portal should still be open at the vault. Winter will fight Ironwood, escape through it, and it will close right before he escapes too. He'll fall with Atlas and everyone will act as if it's some beautiful, poetic justice for him to perish with the city.

Here’s hoping I’m very wrong!

Finishing with Oscar's group, Ren's aura breaks after trying to mask everyone coming through the portal. Oscar realizes that Penny should have come through by now and runs back to find her, only to discover that the portal is closed on this side. Why? Because Weiss wished for a "one way trip to Vacuo." Not only is this another example of our heroes being stupid — they come up with this complicated wish that doesn't actually makes sense, but don't bother to be careful with their words like Ruby was when helping Penny? — but it also just... doesn't add up? How does Oscar know what Weiss wished for? How does Ozpin? (His one line in the episode.) They recall this together, the flashback acting like a memory, but neither of them were there. Neither was Ren. Neither was Emerald. They haven't spoken to the Relic group since separating.

It looks like RT still needs to edit their scripts.

As Oscar realizes they're trapped, the emotions of the group summons a huge number of grimm to the area. At this point, my only thought was why none of them had used the time Ren was buying them to try and find Vacuo. I mean, they're not the only fighters with semblances here. They have the Happy Huntresses too and, I would think, the Atlas students (unless the army was abandoned like Pietro and Maria were. Where are Neon and Flynt?) There's no one in this huge crowed with an ability that might make scouting ahead a little safer? No one is even going to try and figure some plan out? Everyone on these teams is too passive. They encounter a problem — where's the city? — and instead of trying to solve it while they can, while they’re in a good position to, they wait around until the situation becomes unimaginably worse and they have to figure something out or risk dying. Now, the people are being carried off by grimm, they know something has gone wrong on the pathways, and Ren is about to enter another fight without his aura. Let's hope he doesn't take a hit like Yang.

Summary of "Worthy"? Excellent villains, terrible heroes. It's better than what we've gotten in a while, but choices like Yang's fall ensures it's still not good. Given the trajectory of the volume, it was inevitable that we would end up here: moments that look significant at first glance, but are (quite likely) no more than window dressing in the long run.

Finally, bingo is rather boring this week. Unsurprising, considering we're almost out of space. I'm keeping our "Army of grimm conveniently doesn't kill any civilians" square checked because the point there was for Salem to kill people, not for the group to lead the refuges into a grimm infested desert. We'll have to see how many people they lose though and whether Atlas "somehow survives." Here, like Robyn, I'm talking about the citizens, not the now clearly doomed hunk of land. At this point, Oscar doesn’t seem to at all care about his near death experience, but I'll hold off on that square until we're truly done, and there's still a near certain possibility that Ironwood will die, with a likely possibility that Qrow grabs a bottle when first given the chance. What RWBY has avoided though is a Jacques-Watts team up 2.0. Considering, you know, Jacques is dead.

Gold star for not doing the expected, iffy thing, RWBY.

That's the square I would have least minded seeing though 😬

Anyway, finale next Saturday, folks! What insanity will the end bring? Only time will tell. But I can't wait to see what state the fandom will be left in for hiatus!

Until then 💜

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #mymetas #rwby recaps #rwby worthy

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krabandkrill · 4 years ago

Text

For...some reason this disappeared from the blog? Which sucks because that’s basically all the story that happened before Krabandkrill, sooooo

Here it goes again! Have fun reading all of THAT

Each era is about several centuries long

THE BEGINNING

A long time ago, the elders and the King Alef landed upon the lands of the sky. Alas, the lands of the Sky were already occupied by light creatures, and a mortal specie known nowadays as the ancestors. Soon enough, this civilization viewed them as gods, and made them their leaders

THE GOLDEN AGE

Each elder had a different point of view on how the creatures should be treated and a different relationship with them, but most of them agreed with the will of the King: all light creatures were a disgrace, shall only be used to make energy out of and shall never, under any circumstances, be mixed with the residents of the kingdom (aka the spirits). Yet I will once again empathize the fact that all elders did not think like that (Daleth and Ayin). The energy from sais creatures were used to make batterie, and to accomplish a great project led by the King

As years go by, the King and his council (aka the elders, even if not all of the elders adopted these opinions and behaviors) go and suck the light from the world around them (The reason as to why the elders and especially the king lust for light is to be developed later in the story)

THE TENSIONS AND THE FIRST WAR

At some point, the light creatures felt truly endangered and reacted in consequence: they started attacking the cities, destroying the boats and more. In response, the scholars created weapons able to destroy the light creatures: the dragons. It seems as light creatures were involved in the making of these war machines.

A Great War took place, opposing the army of the king and the forces of the light...in the end, the Kingdom won...and the King’s greed kept on getting worse, the stars started to perish one after the other...and the equilibrium between darkness and light got compromised.

THE FALL

The darkness spread through the kingdom. The scholars’ creations become corrupted and become the dark dragons. These creatures lurk through the realms, unstoppable, furious. The army can barely control them. They kill everyone and everything that stands in their path. And the darkness even spread somewhere no one had ever expected...\¥|~*~+[$]+]+}*<+~£~$\\$${[+}*#*>+++¥]!|,!_+{*[$. This of course leading to \¥~¥~$]#+<+.+_¥[+}+[£.£<£

THE SECOND WAR AND THE END

Another war takes place, this time much different from the first. The darkness gets contained, but has destroyed everything. The elders only have one solution: to |¥|]+,===.![^{$\!\¥|[++<+,+[¥}$. The king still resides there to this day.

————————

But what about Krab, Krill and Remiel?

Krill:

Krill was one of the dragons created by Lamed and the scholars. They were mindless fighting machines given a will to kill, and fought against the light creatures during the first war.

But when the darkness spread, they got corrupted, and turned against the kingdom. During the period where the dark dragons where roaming free around the lands, they meet Remiel. The two fell in love, and hid this forbidden romance from everyone else... that until Krill’s death, caused by Tsadi, as she tried to save her big brother from the elder

Krab:

Krab was there between the moment the kingdom won against the light creatures and The Fall. When his mother died, a little orphan by the name of Hei took him in and took care of him.

After some years, Hei was chosen to take part in a ceremony organized by the twins, which forced them to leave the orphanage where Daleth took care of them- yet, they took Krab with them

Remiel :

Remiel lived during the time before the first tensions, and died at the end of the last Great War, a few weeks after Krill died, by killing herself out of despair

Remiel seemed to have been Ayin’s protégée when she was young, and the two seemed very close. Yet, it has been revealed that she joined the resistance and fought against the elders and the kingdom. After the Light’s defeat and the spread of the darkness, she gave herself the mission to save every innocent that would cross path with a dark dragon. This is how she met Krill

Azazel (Big Brother)

Azazel is Krill’s big brother. He, unlike Krill, remembers being a manta, serving the light and the sky, and holds a strong grudge against his old master The Megabird. He too was one of the first war machines built by Lamed, and fully remembers what he had to endure during this transformation. As the darkness took over, he was one of the first and few ones to voluntarily give himself to it, dragging in his sibling. He was one of the leaders of this unholy army, as he was much stronger than most dark dragons.

He holds a clear resentment against the elders, even Teth which whom he works. He despises Remiel for she still serves the bird even after everything that happened, and he sees Krab as nothing but a pebble in his shoe.

Hei:

Hei was an orphan, watched over by Daleth and at times Ayin, and raised with the ideologies of the kingdom. One day, he found Krab and took him in. Then came one day where the twins of the Valley came to take them to be “a child of the king”, supposedly a servant…but actually a sacrifice, which was used to |£~*<}+]$]>|^~*]£_$|*

Hei holds Krab close to their hearts still, and works hand in claw with Azazel- it is unknown if those two get along, but it is most likely they barely acknowledge each other. Their view on Krill and Remiel are unclear, and their views on the elders are conflicted for most parts.

Peanut Butter:

A baby royal jellyfish that Krab took in. Most of her past is unknown.

Pb has just learnt how to communicate through telepathy, and they seem confused about it too. He holds Krab close to his heart, and genuinely appreciates Remiel and Krill. Yet, they seem most afraid of both Azazel and Hei.

And as for the situation at hand:

Both Krab and Krill have been approached by the elder,

To apparently accomplish some sort of holy destiny. Remiel works alongside the elders, unknown to both Krab and Krill.

Azazel and Hei work for the darkness, alongside Teth (the forest elder), to make the two protagonists come back to the shadows. Remiel is unable to do anything, according to Lamed’s orders.

#sky children of the light #thatskygame #krab&krill #sky cotl #sky: children of the light #sky: cotl #sky cotl krill #that sky game #sky cotl crab #skykid #ultimate recap #tw manipulation #tw violence

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imaginedhaven · 4 years ago

Text

Rules of Engagement: Chapter Twenty

Link to Masterpost

Just the epilogue left! That will likely be up sometime this weekend. Enjoy!

~*~*~

Two months passed, and soon Aelin stood before her closet once more, carefully selecting a gown. Today she would be crowned Queen of Terrasen, and though she had worked for it for so long she found she was still nervous.

Lysandra looked up from where she was carefully arranging a bouquet of evergreen boughs and delicate laurel blossoms, representing both the beauty and the longevity of her kingdom. “This is it,” she said quietly. “In a few short hours, you’ll be queen.”

Aelin nodded, fingertips trailing over the gauzy green material covering the gown they had commissioned for the occasion. “I can hardly believe it,” she confessed. “I keep thinking that I’ll wake up and find this was all some sort of fever-dream.”

Lysandra only smiled, smoothing the skirts of her own gown of green velvet. “I suspect Aedion would be only too happy to spar, if you needed a reminder that this is all real.”

That was true enough; if she knew her cousin, he was already pacing outside the throne room, one hand on his sword and the other fisted at his side so as not to muss his tied-back hair. “As much as we’d both enjoy the opportunity to beat each other, I’m afraid we don’t have that much time.”

Carefully, she slipped into the gown, forest green silks and gauzes sliding over her frame. It was truly a lovely dress, fabric in Terrasen green carefully embroidered in silver along the hem and the collar. Beside her on the dressing room table, a silver belt lay ready to be clasped around her waist. The only other adornment she would wear today was the crown of silver and gold antlers that Regent Darrow would present during the ceremony itself. Even her hair would remain unbound for this particular occasion. Lysandra approached her then, carefully fastening the ties at her back that held the gown together. When she spoke, her tone was reassuring. “You don’t need it. You’ve been preparing for this moment for years. Everyone can see that.”

It was still truly amazing that she had gotten this far. For the longest time after her meeting with the Lords of Terrasen, she had contemplated displaying the writ they had all signed granting her the right to her crown. It was still tempting, but she had finally decided the display might be off-putting to enough people so as not to be worth the glee it would bring her. She thought that Rowan would be proud of her for exercising such restraint.

At that thought, she sighed and left the closet, feet taking her to the balcony outside her bedroom. A bird of prey was circling the skies by the forest, but she knew without reaching for the mating bond that it would not be Rowan. She had asked Sellene to keep him in Doranelle until after she was crowned, and the Fae Queen of the East had agreed readily, knowing she would be leaning heavily on her cousin’s advice as she transitioned into power.

She had made the decision knowing it was important that she gain her crown on her own merits. However, she hadn’t given sufficient consideration to just how much she would miss her mate being by her side.

“He should be here soon enough.” The rustling of skirts indicated that Lysandra had come to join her. “Aedion says the reports out of Doranelle indicated he was on the move. If I were to guess, I would say he’d be here within the week.”

Gods, but she hoped so. “I can only imagine how it felt for you to come back here while I took Aedion across the sea,” she admitted. “If it was anything like this…”

“It had to be done. You needed your message to reach Terrasen, and I couldn’t bring Evangeline into that situation.” When Aelin turned to face her friend, she found only certainty in her expression. “Given the same circumstances, I would do it again.”

Aelin sighed. “Well, we’re back now, at least. And we’ve made it to today. Truly, we have a lot to celebrate.”

“And we will,” Lysandra grinned as she collected the silver belt to wrap around Aelin’s waist. “The delegation from Adarlan includes your erstwhile former betrothed, after all; I’m certain he’ll make sure our celebrations are held to a certain standard.”

“Oh, I’m certain as well,” Aelin replied with a laugh. “But enough of that. We still have to get through the ceremony first.”

And together they finished preparing for the day, Aelin taking the rare opportunity to braid her friend’s hair with a smile. “I almost never get to do this. Usually it’s you taking control of my hair.”

Lysandra smiled. “If you wake up early enough, you can do this more often.”

Aelin responded by making a face at her through the mirror. “My first order as queen will be that no official business can take place until lunch,” she swore. “And you’ll have to obey it too.”

“Aedion would never allow it, I hope you realize that. I think he would rather perish than give up his morning training sessions.”

“Aedion can do as he likes, as long as he doesn’t expect me to join him,” she said haughtily.

Before either of them could say anything further, a bell rang in the courtyard to mark the passing of another hour. “It’s time,” Lysandra said as she gathered the evergreen bouquets they would both carry. “Are you ready?”

Aelin’s hands shook as she accepted her own bouquet from Lysandra. She took a deep breath as she focused on a single thought.

I am Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, and I will not be afraid.

Finally, she smiled. “I’m ready,” she declared. “Let’s go.”

~*~*~

Aedion stood to the left side of the throne in front of the crowds that were waiting to watch his cousin be crowned Queen of Terrasen, sword buckled around his waist and wearing Terrasen’s colors of green and silver. As commander of the Bane and the highest ranking military officer within Orynth, he would be standing by Aelin’s side as she accepted her crown from Regent Darrow. The regent himself was already present, as were the other lords and the newest Lady of Perranth. Lysandra and Evangeline would be escorting Aelin into the throne room within a few short minutes. Everything was ready, and he only had a few moments more to wait.

A group of musicians began to play behind him and he straightened his sword belt, focusing his attention on the doors at the opposite side of the throne room. The Song of Terrasen was played at every major function of their kingdom, and now it was the signal that Aelin was about to enter the room.

The crowd before him turned their attention to the doors as well, and he knew the officials gathered behind him would be standing now. Finally, the doors opened and Aedion’s breath caught in his chest as the three most important women in his life appeared.

Evangeline came first, grinning widely as she scattered evergreen leaves along the aisle and prepared the way for their new queen. Finally she came to stand by Aedion’s side, and he tore his attention away from the proceedings for a moment to smile down at her.

Aelin came next, with Lysandra close behind, sweeping down the aisle with all the grace that befitted her role as their ruler. Carefully, she climbed the three steps that led up to the throne and then knelt as Regent Darrow approached, the crown of antlers in his hands.

His vision had blurred by this point, and he knew that by the end he would be openly weeping. Aelin didn’t look like she was faring any better, but she still winked at him before returning her attention to the regent.

Darrow’s expression was solemn as he began to speak the ritual words in the Old Language, but he thought he could see a glimmer in the older man’s eyes as well. Aedion didn’t understand the Old Language very well, not truly, but the meaning of this exchange was one known to everyone of note in Terrasen. “Do you offer your life, your body, and your soul to the service of Terrasen?”

The gold in Aelin’s eyes blazed as she replied in kind. “I offer all that I am and all that I have to Terrasen.”

The ceremony went on exactly as rehearsed, the remaining words of Aelin’s vows a blur to him. As he watched, Darrow lifted the crown to catch the light, an homage to the goddess most honored by all in the Galathynius line, and rested it atop his cousin’s golden waves. His tears finally fell as Darrow spoke the last words of the ceremony. “Rise, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, Queen of Terrasen. Long may you reign.”

There was movement along the outskirts of the crowd, but Aedion could hardly pay attention to such a thing when Aelin turned to look at him rather than sitting in her throne as they had practiced. “Aedion Ashryver, Prince of Wendlyn and General of Terrasen,” she called.

He froze. Could she possibly be…?

She rolled up her sleeve, and the tears began to fall all over again. “From the moment you came to our shores, you have devoted your strength, your sword, and your life to Terrasen. Will you swear to continue to do so for the rest of your days?”

He fell to his knees before her, shoulders and voice both trembling. “I swear it. In this life and the next, I will serve you and Terrasen.”

Aelin pulled out a knife—where in the gods’ names had she been keeping a knife?—and drew it along her arm, smiling as blood welled along the cut. “Then drink, Prince Aedion, and be welcome.”

He bowed his head and drank, and she smiled and whispered, “In front of everyone, just like you wanted.”

He couldn’t help a laugh in reply. “Only you would interrupt your own coronation just to make sure you could surprise someone.”

She winked and turned back to Lord Darrow. “Now, where were we?”

“Take your throne,” he replied with a gesture toward the seat of power.

Aelin straightened once more, letting her sleeve fall to cover the cut that was already beginning to heal, and faced the antler throne. Two steps closed the distance between herself and the throne, and her fingertips trailed over the arm. Her eyes fluttered shut as if in thought, and then the crowd gasped as she loosed a small fraction of the power that rested within her.

Fire swirled above her before taking a distinct form, and Aedion couldn’t stop a sharp intake of breath as he saw it. Aelin simply turned and sat, seemingly ignoring the kingsflame blossom she had called into existence above her head.

The crowd roared its approval, but Aedion kept his eyes on his queen, wondering when she would notice the delegation that had arrived immediately after the crown was placed on her head. As he watched, her eyes scanned the crowd and she smiled at her subjects.

From his position, still knelt by her side, he was in the best location to watch her eyes widen as they finally reached the back of the crowds and she saw her mate.

~*~*~

Aelin wanted nothing more in that moment than to run all the way down the aisle and throw herself at Rowan. From the look in his eye, she knew he was thinking the exact same thing. Unfortunately for both of them, though, she knew they would not have the opportunity to be alone just yet, and she needed to do this for herself.

Not to mention the fact that the various friends who were gathered to watch her in this moment probably deserved to actually be told about her mate.

And so she remained seated in her throne, Regent—no, Lord Darrow’s announcements about the ongoing festivities barely registering in her ears as she stared into pine-green eyes waiting for her across the room.

Of course, her friends completely ignored the suggestion that they move into the courtyards in favor of swarming the throne as the rest of the crowd filed out. At any other moment she would have been delighted to be surrounded by these people who had supported her along the way, but right now she had to feign joy and suppress her irritation.

As Nehemia and Elide fought over the right to be the first to hug her, she glanced at Rowan again. He simply winked, the frustrating bastard, and slipped behind one of the columns supporting the high ceilings of the throne room.

Evidently Dorian had grown tired of waiting on the girls to decide, as he swept her into his arms instead and spun her around. “Looks like you managed spectacularly without me,” he grinned.

“Of course I did,” she retorted. “I was only ever using you for your looks and your books.”

He heaved a dramatic sigh. “I suppose that’s fair.”

Rather than respond, she snuck a glance at the pillar that was hiding her mate from view. What was Rowan doing back so quickly? Had Sellene truly released him earlier than Aelin had requested? Had he found some way to circumvent the trappings of the oath he had sworn to her? What was going on?

She finally glanced back at Dorian to find sapphire eyes glimmering with mirth. “I truly doubt that pillar is as interesting as you think it is, but I can at least tell when I’m not wanted.”

Aelin made a face and shoved at his shoulder, but she couldn’t suppress her smile for long. “Then you’re smarter than most.”

With a wink, Dorian turned his charms to ushering everyone else out of the room as well. In a few blessedly short minutes, silence fell upon the throne room.

Once the others had finally, finally left, Rowan crossed the room in quick strides, sweeping her into his arms as she finally allowed herself to laugh and cry as she’d wanted to do from the moment she first saw him standing in the back of the room. “What are you doing here?” she asked between watery laughs. “I thought…” She didn’t know how to finish that sentence. I thought you would be in Doranelle for at least another month. I thought I would be terribly, completely alone today. I thought I would continue missing you with my every breath for far longer.

Thankfully, Rowan seemed to understand what she couldn’t quite say. He always had, she recalled, even when they would have professed to hate each other. Rather than making her speak, he simply held her closer, cradling her against him as he buried his face in the loose waves of her hair and they took a moment to finally breathe in each other’s scent for the first time in far too long. As the comfort of the pine and snow she had always called home surrounded her, she finally relaxed for the first time since their last embrace.

Finally he began to speak. “Sellene decided that the Fae Queen of the East should be present in person for the coronation of the Faerie Queen of the West, as a gesture of good will. Most of Maeve’s former blood-sworn came with her, myself included. Vaughan stayed behind to manage her affairs, as did Connall.”

“I should probably welcome her,” Aelin mumbled into his shoulder.

“Eventually, yes.”

Rowan continued to explain himself with words she felt more than heard, crushed against his chest as she was, but even being this close wasn’t enough. And so instead she did what she had been longing to do from the moment she saw him at the edge of the crowd and pressed her lips against his.

Of all the kisses they had shared, both shy and heated, this one was perhaps her favorite despite its artlessness. After all, her love, her other half, her mate was finally home to stay. And from the way he clutched her to himself, from the way he kissed her again and again until she was dizzy from either his presence or the lack of air, it seemed he intended to stay for as long as she would allow it.

Luckily for him, she fully intended to keep him forever.

This particular moment couldn’t last forever, though, and finally he pulled away just enough for their eyes to meet again. “We probably shouldn’t keep your subjects waiting.”

“You mean you weren’t going to let me have you on my new throne?” she teased, grinning at the flush that graced his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“Gods help me,” he muttered. “I’ve not even been home an hour, and you’re already trying to kill me.”

She pretended to consider their situation before letting out a dramatic sigh. “I suppose you’re right. We don’t have enough time for everything I want to do to you, anyway.”

“Aelin,” he hissed.

“Tonight, I promise,” she grinned. “Calm down, it’s only teasing if I don’t follow through. Now, are you going to come with me and meet our people or not?”

He grumbled wordlessly for a few more moments before finally offering his arm, which she took with a smile. “Remind me to ask my cousin to avenge my death,” he muttered.

“That would involve telling your cousin exactly what I plan to do to you. In detail.” She watched as he spluttered, clearly indignant.

“That would involve no such thing.” Rowan took a deep breath, clearly intent on calming himself before they made their first public appearance together.

“You wouldn’t tell her, perhaps,” she allowed. “However, I would feel the need to defend myself against such obvious slander as you accusing me of attempted murder.”

Rowan clearly decided that it was best to end the conversation before he lost any further ground, for he quickly steered her out of the throne room and into the courtyard where their court and their people awaited.

Aelin smiled. She supposed she could allow his surrender for now. After all, they would have so much longer for her to torment him.

~*~*~

The afternoon passed into evening, and soon they were back indoors with the court for a meal and for dancing. Rowan stayed close to Aelin’s side, the blood oath and mating bond both crying out for closeness after spending so long apart. Thankfully, Aelin appeared to have no complaints about his nearness, for she seemed to be touching him almost constantly. A slim hand brushing against his arm, a nudge of her hip against him… it was enough to drive any male insane, though privately Rowan could admit that he was enjoying every moment of it.

Granted, he would enjoy it even more if there were any hope of them being able to find a way to sneak off together for a proper reunion, but he would take what he could get.

The musicians began a waltz, and Rowan saw an opportunity to surprise his queen rather than the other way around for a change. Grinning, he offered his arm to her. “Shall we?”

Aelin stared at him suspiciously. Shall we what, exactly? she seemed to ask.

Rowan simply glanced at the dance floor and then back at her.

Her eyes narrowed. “You can dance?”

“I was trained for the court in Doranelle. I may prefer a different sort of dancing, but I am hardly incapable.”

It had been the wrong thing to say; immediately Aelin turned a searing gaze to him and looked him up and down, slowly and thoroughly enough that a lesser male would have hidden away from her scrutiny. Rowan himself was sorely tempted to drag her away from the dance, guests and court be damned. And yet he did not waver, and he even managed to smirk at her as he continued to offer his arm.

Finally she accepted, her hand sliding against the sleeve of his jacket as she allowed him to lead her onto the floor.

What had felt stiff and uncomfortable as a younger male learning how to behave at court felt like second nature when it was Aelin in his arms, and they quickly adopted a comfortable embrace before beginning to move and twirl across the dance floor. “I don’t believe I properly congratulated you on your coronation,” he said quietly.

“You haven’t. And I wouldn’t encourage you to do so until we’re truly alone.” Aelin’s eyes glimmered with a wicked humor, and Rowan resisted the urge to groan in reply.

“You’re incorrigible,” he finally managed.

“I know.”

Rather than carry the conversation further, he carefully spun her out and then back into himself. Aelin followed easily with a bright smile, skirts flaring out around her before she stepped back into his arms, just a little too close to be strictly polite.

As they neared the rest of the delegation from Doranelle, Rowan nodded at them politely. Before long, though, he could feel himself frowning as he watched Lorcan.

Aelin stepped on his foot to get his attention, and he grimaced. “What could you possibly be grumpy about today of all days?” she demanded.

“I’m not grumpy, I… listen, I’m going to spin us around, and I want you to tell me who exactly has captured Lorcan’s attention.”

He did exactly that, and Aelin peered over his shoulder before her eyes widened and she began to laugh. “Oh, she’s going to eat him alive.”

“That doesn’t answer who she is,” he pointed out.

“That’s Elide Lochan, Lady of Perranth and part of the Lords of Terrasen. I really should look at changing that, now that a woman has inherited,” she mused. “Regardless, one of her first acts as Lady of Perranth was to vocally support my ascent to the throne, and you should have heard what she said to the other lords.”

Rowan lifted a single eyebrow. “So you’re telling me Lorcan Salvaterre, most powerful demi-Fae in existence, who hates you, might I add, has fallen for a member of your court.”

She laughed again. “Gods, we need to stop them now, before they can get married. Anyone marrying into one of Terrasen’s noble families inherits the noble name regardless of gender, and I don’t think I could look Lord Lorcan Lochan in the eye with a straight face.”

Rowan bit back a smile of his own before replying. “I know I’m the one who brought him up, but I’d really prefer we not talk about Lorcan any further.”

“Would you rather talk about what precisely you intend to do with me later tonight?”

Rowan glared at her. You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?

“What?” she asked, tone entirely too innocent. “I could talk about my plans for you, if you’d prefer.”

“If you do that, you’ll be ending your own party incredibly early,” he warned.

She laughed and rested her head against his shoulder, and their waltz slowed into a gentle swaying back and forth. He allowed his hands to settle at her waist, reveling in the knowledge that he was allowed to hold her like this. Moreover, he would have her entire life to do exactly this.

Tomorrow, they would begin sorting out exactly what place he would have by her side. Tomorrow, he would have time to begin wondering whether she would Settle in the next few years. Tomorrow, they would begin shaping their court and sorting out their ties with their friends in other nations. But none of those problems could be sorted out tonight.

Instead, tonight he would hold his queen close as they celebrated all of their victories, large and small. Tonight they would enjoy the company of their friends both near and far.

Later tonight, when they were alone, he would make love to his queen for as long as both she and their duties would allow.

They had the rest of their lives ahead of them, after all. They could enjoy this one night.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer @rabodocardan - your tag isn’t working! Not sure what’s up with that. @courtofjurdan @danibutterr

#rowaelin #haven writes #rules of engagement

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shortkingzuko · 3 years ago

Text

title: growing fondness

relationship: jeong jeong/piandao

warnings: brief allusions to SA, light mention of homophobia and transphobia

summary: Piandao and Jeong Jeong's feelings for each other through the years. Despite himself, Piandao managed to grow a fondness towards the man.

word count: 4k

read under the cut or on AO3 for more tags and details on warnings!

20 YEARS BEFORE THE END

Dislike is too strong a word for the emotions that they first carry for each other. Dislike implies a meeting, an aversion, and an emotional reaction to each other. At first, they only have apathy. What else would they have for each other?

Jeong Jeong is a lieutenant commander, a fire bender to boot, his days are spent in war meetings, dusty courtyards, using a stick to thwack his student’s stances when they were off (and they were often off), and conversing with soldiers of higher ranks. It’s a world Piandao is barred from by virtue of his cold hands and cold spirit, and removed further still due to his previous engagement, called off before it could become a marriage, now that his records were proudly stamped with the seal meant only for men. While commanders and recruiters would repeat, until they were blue in the face, that the Fire Nation does not hold confusion against him, he, of course, called off his marriage before he was a man, and thus no illegal activity could have occurred, Piandao knows that he is looked at with a critical gaze. His interactions with fellow soldiers and commanders are watched and noted, and the Fire Nation, for all her might and glory, would never risk a scandal.

Divided as they are, they feel nothing short of the basic respect a soldier is meant to have for his so-called superiors. Perhaps a glimpse of quickly greying hair, or sharp cheekbones beneath dark skin, inspires a sense of aesthetic appreciation, but it is quickly ushered away upon hearing harshly said instructions and critiques.

This changes when Jeong Jeong, - Lieutenant Commander Jeong Jeong, he introduces himself as, frustration clear in his voice - is reassigned to the non-bending corps of the training academy. Whispers and conspiracies flourish at the news, as people try to guess the cause. Some say Jeong Jeong ‘lost his stuff’, that his fire-bending students have outmatched him in the field, though Piandao doubts that to be true. Another in Piandao’s rank suggests that Jeong Jeong was caught in bed with an Admiral’s daughter, that this is a punishment for his crassness and disrespect, since promiscuity is not, in itself, a reason to be stripped of his title. Piandao doubts that as well, based on the polite apathy Jeong Jeong seems to hold for the women that share Jeong Jeong’s rank; all of them capable and beautiful, yet inspiring none of the behaviour in Jeong Jeong that other men exhibit.

The most believable guess that Piandao hears is that Jeong Jeong criticized a decision in a private meeting, asked a question that implied disrespect to a superior officer, and being forced to teach non-benders was supposed to scare him back in line. A reminder that despite his mastery of the element, he can easily be stripped of any valour or honour that comes with it. After all, Piandao thinks bitterly, nothing is as insulting as being forced to teach non-benders.

Regardless of the reason, it’s clear that his new position of testing hand-to-hand combat to lower ranks is meant as a punishment, one that Jeong Jeong accepts with little grace. His attitude is dour, words harsh as he barks orders at troops, and has a clear disdain for those who were never kissed by sparks or flames. Lessons are unpleasant, and Piandao’s opinion of Jeong Jeong sours as days turn to weeks of the man directing soldiers to fight each other, offering little guidance besides telling them that they would perish within minutes to the dirt-caked armies of the Earth Kingdom.

It’s an insult that strikes Piandao a little too close to home. The words all too familiar to the disbelief of his friends and family when he told them he was going to continue his military career past the very basic training all Fire Nation citizens are forced to go through. The concern that wove its way into every conversation, asking him what he would do if an Earth Kingdom thug caught him off guard, or what if another cadet found out about his condition and snuck into his bed chambers at night. As talented as he was, everyone would explain, he was nothing compared to the might of spirit-born flame.

Piandao doesn’t quite remember what he said that provoked Jeong Jeong, though he knows it was snide, under his breath but purposefully loud enough that if the Lieutenant Commander wanted to make a scene, he could. Of course, Jeong Jeong challenges him to a duel, as Piandao knew he would. His calm demeanour hides a hot temper that everyone knows about. The courtyard is cleared, all other ensigns packed against each other around the walls and pillars of the training yard. He’s given a training sword, heavy and unbalanced, the blade dulled to prevent mortal wounds, and Jeong Jeong, the bastard, takes only the thing bamboo rod he was using before, brandishing it as a sword. The message is clear; he doesn’t need a weapon to take Piandao down. It infuriates Piandao more than it should.

He’s seething as he gets into his stance, sword poised, and eyes narrowing as he walks Jeong Jeong prepare. The long shadows of the late afternoon sun obscure Jeong Jeong’s face, and for some reason, that makes it easier for Piandao to maintain his upset. He’s overconfident, clearly, and the bamboo reed wobbles and quakes with each motion. Jeong Jeong smirks, and for a moment Piandao wonders how long he spent riling them up in search of a fight.

Piandao moves first, darting forward and to the side, trying to gauge Jeong Jeong’s agility, and whether or not bending is on the table for him. He reacts quickly enough - of course, he does, for a man of his title and skill - though Piandao can see some hesitancy in his movements. Likely, he thinks, making a half-hearted thrust to test Jeong Jeong’s reflexes again, his muscles aren’t warmed up yet. All he did was stand around until now, and he didn’t even stretch before making everyone else clear off. He knows that if he wants to strike, he needs to do it sooner, rather than later.

With that thought in mind, Piandao lunges forward again, swinging his arms upward to block the obvious swipe that Jeong Jeong makes with his reed. The wood wobbles as it slides against the dulled metal of Piandao’s blade, and faintly, he can see smoke rise from where Jeong Jeong is gripping it. He ducks when Jeong Jeong makes a wide swing, kicking a leg out to force his lieutenant commander to take another step back. It’s just a matter of blocking another swing, the bamboo crackling from the force and from the heat emanating from Jeong Jeong’s hand, before Piandao is standing once again, holding his blade just shy of Jeong Jeong’s head.

He grins when he sees the shock register on his superior’s face, his eyes widening and eyebrows furrowing in frustration and confusion. Jeong Jeong’s lips part, almost to make a soft, Oh, before quickly closing again. From this distance, Piandao can see strands of hair falling out of the tight bun that all Fire Nation troops keep their hair in for training. He’s almost pretty in this light, Piandao thinks. Then Jeong Jeong huffs and flicks his wrist, and before Piandao knows it he’s being smacked in the check with the reed of bamboo, the wood hot to the touch and leaving a dark red welt on Piandao’s tanned skin. He drops his sword and stance in shock at the sensation.

“This is why you’ll die in the Earth Kingdom,” Jeong Jeong, voice booming once again. “You’ll never survive if you’re too soft to finish the job.”

Piandao scoffs. “Would you have hit me if I did hit you?”

“You should never assault a superior officer,” Jeong Jeong, though his voice is blank, dull as if he’s repeating a mantra that he’s been told many times. Students around the courtyard start to fidget, unsure what to do. “... You are well-trained, uh..”

“Piandao,” he supplies, only a little put off that Jeong Jeong doesn’t even know his name.

“Yes, Piandao. You put up a good fight. You may even inconvenience those mud-welding buffoons before they crush you to death.”

It’s not quite a compliment, but it’s all Piandao gets before Jeong Jeong is back to yelling orders to the rest of the students. Surprisingly, he tells them that they can all head off to bed early, so they may dream of improvement.

If Jeong Jeong is a little more respectful to Piandao in the days that follow, if he offers a little more feedback to people during training, if the lessons are more thoughtful than just ‘practice these poses until I say we’re finished', then no one is willing to question it, just in case things will go back to how they once were. By the time that Jeong Jeong has won his way back into the good graces of his superiors and is once again reassigned to his old students, Piandao is almost sad to see him go. Despite himself, he managed to grow a fondness towards the man.

10 YEARS BEFORE THE END

The sun is obnoxiously bright and inviting for such a testing evening, Piandao thinks, squinting at the sun as he makes his way towards the town. Presumably, it would be less glaring if he left later. The distance from his house could easily be shortened by carriage, but he needs the time to calm himself, put on a more friendly demeanour than he truly has for the men he’s going to meet.

Sometimes he wants to say ‘screw it’ and stop replying to all the letters he receives from the people he knew in the military (well, most of them, at least) and to stop agreeing to invitations to come out to dine and drink when they’re in town. Sometimes, becoming a shut-in doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.

If Piandao drags his feet a little as he makes the trek to the village, no one can blame him, nor does anyone seem to notice, already caught up in the merriment of drinking. He sighs but plasters on a grin as he approaches the table, loudly announcing his entrance as he sits at the table. The tabletop is already damp and sticky with alcohol, and even before everyone has greeted him, a glass is shoved in his hand as he’s encouraged to catch up with the tipsy table.

The chatter is asinine, and they cycle through topics that they’ve discussed well enough. The folks that Piandao trained with badger him about why he left the military while bragging about their exploits. They tell him if he had stuck around he could have a wife by now - despite everything you have ‘going on’, they always make sure to tack on - he would probably be commander by now, given his skills. They tell him about their government-provided vacation homes that they’ve been promised in the Earth Kingdom. They tell him that, sure, he lives a pretty cushy life as it is, but once the war is over - and they’re so close to winning, they tell Piandao with a wink - they’ll be rolling in coin and be given the highest honours.

The waitstaff and other patrons surely hate them, but what can they do? No one seems to notice the rest of the bar flinching as a playful argument amongst them grows in volume No one else at Piandao’s table notices when the waitress stops being the young, pretty girl, who brought them their first bottle of soju and starts being the rotund, thick-armed man, likely the owner of the establishment. Other patrons start clearing out, despite the half-full bottles still on their tables. Piandao wonders if there’s a line that they’ll have to cross to get kicked out, though surely it’s far in the distance. The military’s money is no less gold, and after months at sea, his old crew seems eager to spend it on booze before they head back to their families.

By the time they start loosening up and giving Piandao what he came here for, they’re suitably drunk. Even Piandao feels a little fuzzy around the edges. Everyone at the table leans forward, their voices lowering to a slurred whisper, as they dish the gossip they’ve all heard on their respective vessels. Which captain’s wife cheated on him while he was at sea, which ensign’s corpse was found burned beyond recognition, which ship has lost funding. Which battles have been lost without the public knowing or, more frighteningly, which have been won without reporting. The information is invaluable now that he doesn’t have the ability to hear it firsthand.

Tragically, the important gossip is always few and far between. His drinking partners scoff and shove each other, glaring at one another if a comment gets too close to being critical, or worse, negative about their military pursuits. Someone makes a joke about how Commander Anong alone is responsible for any lost battles since her beauty distracts everyone. Another comments on the figure of a young woman sitting at the bar. The mood lightens and the moment passes, and any thread of useless information that Piandao could collect is lost.

He’s about to call it a night, make up some excuse to leave and start the long hike back to his childhood home on top of the hill when a large hand claps him on the back.

“Piandao, remember that old Lieutenant that we all hated? Jeong Jeong?” At the name, a few soldiers turn to spit on the ground, earning another laugh from the table. Piandao sees one of the bartenders grumble at the mess. “You nearly beat his ass once?”

“I recall,” Piandao replies. His response makes everyone else at the table double over with drunken laughter, all unable to get out what the joke is.

“You’ll never guess what that scumbag did.”

“What did he do?”

It takes a minute for the giggles to die down enough for any answer to worm its way through their lips. “ Defected ! Made a huge scene at a meeting then gave a speech to his crew about the ‘evils of war’! Ran off into the woods like a dog with his tail between his legs afterwards!”

Piandao is shocked into silence for a moment, but when he sees the searching eyes of his companion, he forces himself into a hearty laugh. It is soon swept away by the laughter of the table.

“Oh, when we find him, it’ll be good fun,” a man who is now a captain, who has sway and power and money, says, before taking another swig of drink. “It’s always a good day when we find a traitor.”

“I wonder if he’ll cry like a coward when we drag him out of whatever mud hut he’s hiding in,” another soldier adds. “Remember how chicken he was when you fought him, Piandao? Took his final shot at you when you had already won, as a coward would. I swear they’ll make anyone an Admiral these days.”

It feels like his insides are twisting until he can get away. There’s groaning and pleading for him to have one more drink as he manages to extract himself but the hole made by his absence is already filled by the time he’s reached the doorway. More tales of bloody victory and pregnant spouses to be told while he walks home.

His mind buzzes as if it’s full of insects as he makes progress on his venture home. He almost can’t believe the news that Jeong Jeong left , that he was able to even get away and survive.

A traitorous part of his brain whispers, "for now."

There’s only a small stack of letters at home with Jeong Jeong's distinctive handwriting, perfect in form and size, but always too thick, as if he took too long to write each letter. Like he was trying so hard to master each word.

Their… exchanges have been lighthearted, chaste, even, and fleeting. Piandao would receive maybe two letters a year if he was lucky, and he refused to send anything more than he received. In the years since Piandao almost bested Jeong Jeong, their relationship went from begrudging respect to a tentative friendship. They wrote to each other about poetry, in words and infighting, and it always made Piandao’s heart quicken whenever he received a letter with Jeong Jeong’s seal. For however long it took to read Jeong Jeong’s latest accounts and send a reply, Piandao turned into an embarrassing romantic.

By the time Piandao makes it home, the sun has long been set, and it’s mostly by muscle memory that he can find, much less enter, his estate. He lights a candle when he reaches his room, letting the flickering light grow as he sets more candles ablaze. For a moment, he feels a brief temptation to write Jeong Jeong a letter.

But what would he say? Congratulations? Good luck? Please come back to me, even though Jeong Jeong was never his? Or maybe, knowing that the military would be ripping open every letter that would even mention Jeong Jeong, a heartfelt rejection, a letter filled with nothing of insult and swearing off his name, just to make sure no one catches on to… whatever they could have had.

In the end, he knows it’s a waste of time either way. Whatever he wrote, Jeong Jeong would never see it. Piandao doesn’t really want to talk to anyone else besides him.

TEN YEARS AFTER THE BEGINNING

A shadow crosses Piandao’s face as he paints. He glances up, having to squint against the sunrise, and spies Jeong Jeong as he slinks across the courtyard. Quiet as an embermouse, he walks across the yard and climbs on top of one of the many decorative stones. He has to use his hands to pull his legs into the lotus position now - funny how a few years of luxury can steal away one’s flexibility so quickly. All the same, he knows that if Jeong Jeong wanted to be unnoticed then he wouldn’t have noticed him.

Piandao smiles and returns his gaze to his paper, dipping the brush back into the paint tin. The last few years have been good to him and, dare he say it, good to Jeong Jeong as well. There’s a pleasant fullness to both of their cheeks and stomachs. New wrinkles form at the corner of their eyes and mouths, and as much as Jeong Jeong denies it, Piandao knows their origins come from smiling.

Jeong Jeong has never been an extroverted soul, has never yearned to be the life of the party. His years on the run certainly didn’t help that facet of him, but over the years he’s gotten friendlier again, more willing to socialize when unexpected guests pop by their house. Sometimes they ask for Piandao to train them, sometimes they ask for Jeong Jeong.

It’s more than Piandao deserves; this dream-like life that he’s gotten used to. He spent so long trying to prove himself to others, doing unspeakable things to earn the respect of horrible people, to prove himself as a man and as a non-bender in a red-hot, burning world. When he realized that he would never get that approval, he was angry and then relieved, suddenly free of the delusions he once carried, and ashamed that he sought such acceptance. For years he wondered how he would make amends with the world; if he would ever find peace. Now, it seems as if he has.

He finishes his painting before Jeong Jeong finishes his morning meditations - the first of many in a day - and sets weights on the edges of the paper to ensure it remains flat enough to dry. Piandao rises to his feet, a little slower than he might have a few years previous and makes his way to the kitchen to assemble a tray of tea.

He had long dismissed any additional help around the house, and Jeong Jeong’s arrival after the war, suddenly allowed to return to the country but with nowhere else to go, certainly did not encourage Piandao to hire any assistance. He loads a tray with cups, a small teapot of tepid water, and a bowl of dried tea leaves on the side. No need to waste time boiling water here or letting the leaves over steep, he thinks, as he throws a few milk buns onto the tray as well.

He’s careful as he walks back to the courtyard, trying to be as quiet as possible as he approaches Jeong Jeong on his rock. His eyes are closed and he faces the sun, looking so calm that for a moment he almost reminds Piandao of a cat or perhaps a lizard, basking. Piandao places the wooden tray on the ground, earning a slight scowl from Jeong Jeong from the noise, before leaving to retrieve some cushions to sit on. By the time he returns, he sees Jeong Jeong sliding off the rock, landing on the ground with grace.

Jeong Jeong warms the tea for them before adding the leaves to the pot. They sit in silence while they wait, something that once scared Piandao - the silence that draped Jeong Jeong like a wet cloth. It didn’t cling to him so much as he dragged it around with him like a weight. For so long Jeong Jeong demanded silence, refused to have anything that even resembled a polite conversation with Piandao. It was hard to tell if it was the last remnants of shame that built the wall between them or if that was just what Jeong Jeong had grown used to. Despite many of the White Lotus viewing the battle of Ba Sing See as a chance of redemption, they quickly realized even if the war was over, peace would not just fall into their laps, and forgiveness wasn’t as easy to find as they hoped. Piandao often wondered how many battles would he have to win for peace, to make up for the battles he fought in the name of the war.

He knew that Jeong Jeong struggled with it too, viewed his welcoming back to the Fire Nation almost as a testament to the fact that he didn’t atone. Even now, basking in the morning sun, Piandao knew that Jeong Jeong often thought of what else he could have done to make amends.

On the other hand, Piandao doesn’t pretend that a good portion of Jeong Jeong’s behaviour is just who he is. He was never ‘nice’ although Piandao knows that he always wanted to be kind. He never quite enjoyed being social nor did he ever yearn to amongst others. The years he spent on the run, surrounded by people who presented his privacy and space and didn’t push him on matters that he didn’t want to discuss, certainly didn’t help him in this regard.

Piandao pours their cups of tea and passes on to Jeong Jeong, smiling when he takes a deep breath of the aromatic steam. He tears off a piece of bread and hands it to his lover, feeling warm fingertips brush against his own as Jeong Jeong takes it from him. Jeong Jeong mumbles a soft thank you , a more recent development after years of Piandao chiding him about table manners.

Piandao can’t help himself, reaching a hand across to softly comb through Jeong Jeong’s hair, white and so much softer in their gentle years together. Jeong Jeong lets out a little huff, but takes a sip of his tea, instead of trying to shove Piandao’s handoff.

“I’ll stop focusing on your hair once mine matches,” he jokes, earning a glare from the grouchy man. His hair is only starting to get flecks of silver, his beard only having a few specks of salt and pepper. It’s almost exciting, growing old with a loved one when a few years ago the thought seemed so alien. Plus, he thinks, it gives him ample ammo to tease Jeong Jeong, who’s been grey since long before the war ended. He retracts his hand, letting it glide gently across Jeong Jeong’s roughened face, before returning to his own steaming cup.

The morning is still young when they finish their drinks, though they sit and bask in the warmth for a while longer before getting up. Their pace is languid, the conversation easy, as they return to the house to start their days. There are chores to do, errands to run, but neither of them is aching to get started on them at the moment. Age has brought a comfort and appreciation for languidity that they've never had before. There’s no need to rush, they know, when the day’s just begun.

#m #pianjeong #piandao #jeong jeong #atla #atla fic #my fic #lmao i forgot to post it here and was like ; ~; commints??

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shadowsfascination · 4 years ago

Text

Shadamy Swordland | Ch 2 | Sacred Arts

“I’m going to remove my hand from your mouth on the count of three, but you’re not to make a sound! We wouldn’t want to draw any attention to us, now do we, lass?”” The stranger now held a dagger dangerously close to her throat. Amy felt the cold steel against her skin and didn’t dare exhale too deep, terrified it’d cut into her flesh. Unable to nod in agreement, she could only widen her eyes in good hopes the other understood. “One… Two… Three.” She felt the gloved fingers slide away from her now dry mouth. Automatically she gasped and panicked, the sharp lines of the dagger pressing into her throat with every shallow breath. “Good girl. Now, let’s have a chat.” The other said, stepping in to face her, still holding the dagger in place. Amy looked up in astonishment to a creature with a sensual vibe over her. Their manner of speech aligned with the smug grin on her face. She wore a dark coat with fabric that seemed to hug her body in a way that barely left anything to the imagination, her sharp shaped wings the only thing uncurved about her physique. How could she have missed her when she scanned the place? “Then talk!” Amy snarled.

She tried to keep her voice down. The woman pulled back the hood of her coat onto her shoulders, revealing her white skin and big ears. Her lips were full and her two sharp canine tooths drew Amy’s attention.

“Why so rushy? Oh, that’s right! You have to get back to your dorm in time so they won’t notice you’re gone. Imagine all the rumours you’d cause!”

“If you’re so worried about my reputation, you could let me go, you know?”

The bat suppressed her tendency to mockingly laugh in her face and shifted the dagger to her slightly press into Amy’s muzzle.

“You’re too naïve. Ah, where are my manners?! I haven’t introduced myself to you yet.”

“I’ve been wondering about your manners as well.” Amy angrily hissed at her.

“You don’t want to go down that road with me, dear.” Her voice turned dark and serious. “On the topic of manners: it is wildly indecent that a member from a low-rank family such as yourself is in a romantic relationship with a high-ranked knight, who happens to be your trainer as well.”

A cocktail of frustration, fear and disgust roared inside her, sending tremors to her limbs. If she weren’t tied up, she’d teach this woman a lesson.

“…And quite a passionate one I must say.” The bat lowered her eyelids and locked eyes with her, clearly trying to get under her skin. Amy felt her cheeks redden in both embarrassment and anger, feeling exposed and violated by how much this stranger knew about her and Shadow. “H-how much do you know?”

“More than enough to offer you a deal.” “Let’s hear it.” Amy said unwillingly. She added scepticism to the tone in her voice.

“Rouge!”

Shadow rushed in without warning and knocked her over with force, taking both of the females by surprise. He pushed the bat down, one of his hands clenched around her neck, the other pointing out his magnificent sword at her. She struggled to escape his hold and failed, but still managed to cock a smile, unnerving Shadow and Amy.

“So, you’re coming to save the day after all, my lord.” ‘They seem to know each other,’ Amy quietly muttered to herself. “Cut it out!” Shadow yelled angrily. He increased his grip on her. “Are you hurt?” Shadow asked his student. She shook her head at him, never been more relieved to see him. His courtesy towards her sent a rush of adrenaline to her chest. She watched how he confidently moved to master his opponent with his muscular arms. Amy loved how strong and masculine he was, but was suddenly alarmed when she saw this ‘Rouge’-woman seriously struggle to breathe.

“H-hear me out, Shadow!”

“You’re unreliable and corrupt to the core! Give me one reason why I would listen to you!”

A series of coughs and grated voice followed from her almost clenched shut throat in attempt to get him to listen to her. They turned into background sounds when his girlfriend called him to order, afraid he’d push it too far. The grip on her neck reduced at once, grasping both of her wrists instead now. Shadow then lost his balance when she suddenly disappeared underneath him and he tumbled unto the floor. That darn bat with her endless number of spells!

“My, my. It seems you have forgotten how well I know my ways around the sacred arts there, knight.”

Rising to already to lash at her again, he was dumbfounded when he turned around. His girl gasped and let out a high-pitched squeak, seeing how the dagger of the woman lightly scratched her neck. He sighed and lowered his sword. “Put it in the sheathe!” Rouge ordered. Reluctantly he obeyed.

How things could become this ugly in so little time?

“Talk.” He sneered at her, crossing his arms.

“Here’s the deal: you two are going to help me out. I’ve had enough of being an outcast! My clan is on the edge of perishing. There’s not enough food, we’re poor and being used as a doormat, looked down upon and being abused way too long now!”

“How is that our problem?” “I’ll tell you: It became your problem the minute your self-discipline failed you and ya couldn’t keep your hands of this one here.”

Shadow’s eyes narrowed, disgusted by the way she portrayed him, but didn’t bother to go against it. “But of course, that all depends on how determined you are on keeping this a secret, Shadow.”

“That’s dirty! You are just loving this, aren’t you?” “You think you know me so well! I wished I wouldn’t have to do this, but I have no choice. I have to find the gemstone!” “It’s always been about luxury and prestige with you. If you’d ask me, you got what you deserved.” “Well, I am in fact not asking you, so keep your rude opinion to yourself. This isn’t about jewellery! I’m at the point where I can’t even feed my children properly anymore!”

His eyes widened in shock. He didn't know that she had kids now. “If I had simply asked for your assistance, you would’ve for sure rejected my request- that is IF you even were to hear me out in the first place. There’s no other way for me to get what I want but to blackmail you. Am I wrong?” Rouge’s bright blue orbs glistered even more brightly through the tears that filled her eyes. Amy couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for her. “Probably not.” He scratched the squills on his head in discomfort. “There’s someone who can help me and my clan to get out of this horrible situation. I need to bring him the infamous turquoise gemstone for his plans to work and the two of you are going to help me, seeing how you’re able to perform special skills and all…”

Shadow seemed to understand what she was talking about.

“What gemstone?”

“Oh, you haven’t told her? This ought to be even more interesting than I thought.”

“The special skill I performed earlier is only a sacred art spell. It’s no big deal.” Amy stated in confusion. She did not understand what was so special about it.

“And what do you think is the source of the power allowing you to do so?” “I haven’t given it much thought actually.”

“Well then, I’ll assume you are familiar with the legend of the gemstone that was used by greedy men with a thirst of power to let destruction befall our realm in the past. The one they tell you scary tales about in kindergarten, the one which’s tremendous power is a great taboo and the use of it a violation of the law.”

Amy nodded. “That’s the one.”

“That makes no sense! It’s supposed to be sealed away in a faraway kingdom. There’s no way that could be the source of power providing us the magic of the sacred arts.”

“That’s what they want you to believe.” She pointed in the direction of the academy. “Wherever that blasted stone is located, its’ range of power has an enormous scale. Its’ influence reaches our realm, providing a mysterious power, a power all the sacred arts are based on. In fact, you’re not that different from me, a dark mage.” …

“Especially him. He seems to know his way around spells I can’t even decode, let alone perform.” “Nonsense! Shadow would never use dark magic!” “It is in fact true, Amy.” Shadow heaved a sigh. He grunted and let out a soft curse under his breath, shifting his gaze away from Amy when he saw the painful look on her face. This was not the way he wanted her to find out about this.

“And you didn’t bother to tell me?!”

“I didn’t exactly have the time, now did I? Tonight’s the first time I have ever performed a sacred art spell around you. It’s complicated…”

“I’m listening…” “As much as I’d love to listen to the two of you argue, the sun is about to rise. Once your secret is out, you’ll be useless to me,” Rouge interfered. Shadow and Amy shared a glance, silently admitting they did not have a choice but to help her. He unfolded his arms and held out his hand to the bat.

“Wonderful! We’ll meet again here tonight an hour past curfew. Don’t be late.”

Shadow ignored her, hating to be ordered around by anyone but Amy and long wishing for this nightmare to be over. He walked up to Amy and untied her to rub her sore hands, only shifting his gaze up to hers once. She kept eyeing him in a mad way and he knew that look on her face meant trouble for him. “Now warp her back to her dorm so she’ll be back in time, will ya?” “Just because we’ll be working together does NOT mean you are to interfere in our relationship. Stay out of it!” “Heh!” the bat cocked a self-complacent smile. “Relationship…Who would’ve thought?” She nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders in disbelief and closely walked past them to the ladder, briefly touching Amy’s shoulder. “You’re his weak spot, lass. The only one I could ever find,” Rouge whispered.

The bat spread her wings and flew off into the distance leaving a beaten, chagrined Shadow behind with an upset Amy. Shadows hopes on a calm, peaceful day evaporated like snow on a sunny day when he realized he yet had to spend the day practicing swordfights with her. Reading someone wasn’t one of his qualities, but her offended mood was so evidently present, there was no doubt he misunderstood this time. She brushed off the dust and straw, dressing herself in her cloak. Arms crossed and boldly making him catch her gaze before she left, she made him a wordless promise: she would not go easy on him.

Fire and torments, this is not happening!

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< Previous chapter: read here.

> Next chapter: read here.

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My head’s been feeling a little fuzzy over the last few days. I have no idea if this is a good follow-up to the oneshot right now xD Let me know your thoughts and whether you would like a third chapter(: I have written the draft for that already. Send me a PM for typo’s, ideas or feedback if you will. I am an amateuristic writer and English is not my native langauge^^’ LOL.

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