#seeing her apart of a festival is a match for her skills & interests

[petrovna-zamo]

Katya joins Christine and the Queens’ Meltdown festival at Southbank Centre!

[mrsalwayswrite]

A Ship’s Arrival (Ivar x reader)

Here is my (second) contribution to @ofmanderley 300 followers celebration challege! Thanks again for doing this challenge! 

My prompt was a gif set you can find here. Check it out! 

Fun Fact: Hnefatafl (‘King’s Table’ in English) is the board game most commonly associated with the Viking Age, I’m guessing this is what Ivar and Aslaug were playing in Season 4 when he was a child.  

Warnings: fluff, Ivar being a prickly boy who is really a softie. 

Words: 2600

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius

(Note- this gif is not mine. It is apart of the gif set I chose, so all the credit goes to @ofmanderley​)

  Earnest blue eyes stared out over the water with all the intensity of one seeking answers from the gods themselves. Those who worked the docks bustled around him, making sure to stay out of his way and his reach. The youngest Ragnarsson ignored them, too focused on watching the water between the fjords and leading to Kattegat. His piercing gaze eagerly sought for the ship's promised arrival. He knew it made more sense for him to watch and wait on the overlooking hills; from there he could see farther and be out of the way. But he did not care. He wanted to be here when the ship docked. If he was above Kattegat, it would take too long to crawl down and be at the docks in time. 

 He looked up at the bright sky. Sol drove her chariot upwards; the sunrise having faded hours ago. Now the azure sky matched the glistening water below. Tonight was a full moon. The thought released a torrent of emotions through him, threatening to overwhelm his otherwise shrewd mind. The feeling he chose to focus on, that he hoped would drown out the fear and insecurity within him, was a giddy excitement. 

 Tonight, you were supposed to return. 

 *****

 The festivities raged around him, filling the Great Hall to the brim with useless noise of laughter, conversation and drunken singing. Ivar sat at one of the long tables near the thrones, only one filled with his beautiful mother. Alone, he watched the revelry around him in his usual aloof manner, shooting glares of disdain frequently. Sipping on his horn of ale, he wondered how soon he could leave, or how much trouble he would get in if he stabbed one of the drunken men that kept knocking into his table and bumping his crippled legs. 

 He considered crawling over to sit on the empty throne next to his mother, but seeing her glassy gaze as she stared into her horn, he knew he would be just as alone beside her as he currently was. 

 Used to being ignored, surprise filled him when someone slid across the table from him. Expecting one of his brothers, a sharp barb laid on the tip of his tongue, only for it to dissipate when he realized who it was. 

 You relaxed on the bench across from him, elbows on the table and leaning slightly forward. What startled him the most was the way you were obviously studying him with your head slanted to the side, eyes intent upon his face. Without a word, he matched your scrutiny, unwilling to lose this silent battle to some maiden. He had seen you before around the Great Hall, although you two had never spoken, let alone made eye contact. This was the first time either of you acknowledged the other's presence. 

 Your father was an accomplished tradesman, recently expanding his route to include Kattegat. The first time he came to inquire about trading here, he spoke with the Queen. With her approval, he left with promises to return soon. This time he arrived with goods from foreign lands that caused many to marvel. What most caught Ivar's attention- this time your father brought you along. 

 After several minutes of the silent staring, each moment further making Ivar grit his teeth and his fingers itch for an axe to bash into your head. What upset him the most, you looked so serene staring at him; like his furious gaze, that sent many before you cowering in fear, had no hold over you. He refused to break the silence, to break the stalemate you two were obviously locked in. He could read the stubbornness in the curve of your lips, the slow blinking of your eyes that remained solely focused on him. Clearly you forgot he was Ivar the Boneless, being obstinate was a specialty of his. 

 Finally, you broke the silence. "I heard you are one of the best players of Hnefatafl."

 "It is a game of skill, cunning, and strategy. Things I excel in, unlike most." He scoffed, trying to determine what you hoped to get out of your statement. There were none that could beat him in the game, only Floki ever came close. He wondered not for the first time if his father was around, if he would actually provide adequate competition for his youngest son. 

 "I bet I can beat you."

 His jaw threatened to drop at your blasé statement, said so easily, so casually, like it was a fact. His blood boiled. How dare you think yourself better than him? Leaning forward, he snarled at you. "No."

 A smirk caused your lips to turn upward, infuriating him even more. 

 His fury spilled forth with vitriol coating each word as he sneered at you. "You are just some tradesman's daughter. Just like any other useless, pathetic girl. I am the son of Ragnar Lothbrok. You have no chance of ever beating me."

 You leaned forward, your posture reflecting his. Though your demeanor was serene, like a still lake; while his body trembled like a wildfire, threatening to burn everything within reach. 

 "Prove it."

 His mind froze for a brief moment, unable to believe what you just said. "Are you…. challenging me?"

 "It's only a challenge if there is any hope of you actually beating me."

 His rage resurfaced, clearing his mind of the surprise. A dangerous excitement coursed through his blood. This would give him an opportunity to teach you your place, to remind you of those who will always be above you; and he planned to destroy you in both the game and in tormenting afterwards. Oh, this could be the most fun he had in a while. "Tomorrow."

 Your smirk widened. "Tomorrow." You confirmed with a single nod. Without another word, you rose gracefully to your feet and walked out of the Great Hall.  

 *****

 The dagger spun easily in his hand, twisting, turning, an extension of his hand. The sun had risen to its zenith, the light making the water sparkle and shine. Still, Ivar refused to move from his spot on the dock. 

 His mind drifted to the new axe he was working on at the blacksmith's. It was supposed to be done by now but his impatience had gotten the better of him one day. After that, he was forced to start over completely. He wondered if you would want to come watch him work. Would that interest you? 

 Suddenly, his attention was diverted to a ship heading towards the docks. He straightened up, eagerly watching its arrival. As it drew closer, his excitement dissipated like smoke, replaced by annoyance. The ship was one he recognized as a larger fishing ship. Not a tradesman's ship. Not your ship. 

 Frustrated, he ran his hands through his hair. He should return to the Great Hall, either to spar with his brothers in the training yard or help his mother. Do anything but sit here pointlessly. Waiting around for some girl sounded like something he would cruelly tease his brothers for doing. Yet here he sat, unmoving. His gaze focused once more on the horizon, as if his will alone could summon you to appear faster. 

 *****

 Over the next fortnight, countless games of Hnefatafl were played between Ivar and you. To his immense pleasure and frustration, you were good. Not just good enough to barely entertain him but good enough that Ivar had to actually work for each win. The only other person who came close was Floki. But here you were winning, just as many times as he won. He internally debated if he loved or hated that.

 Soon your competition expanded to other activities, making even mundane activities into fierce battles. He was slightly better than you when it came to archery, which brought him immense pleasure. You were better at fishing, which all the brothers found humorous. Even at meals, you two would compete who could chug your ale the fastest. Something Queen Aslaug disliked immensely but kept silent about for her joy of her youngest son finding a friend overshadowed her displeasure at some of your antics. 

 During this time, the two of you were hardly apart. Though on numerous occasions, Ivar still considered splitting your head with his axe. He found that each day the violent feeling lessened and his excitement to see you increased. His brothers tried to tease him but his mother quickly silenced them with a sharp look. It did not matter what those fools thought, none of them ever held his interest, his attention, his respect like you did. 

 When the fortnight drew to an end and your father began preparations to leave, Ivar found himself trying to create excuses to delay the impending departure, no matter how ridiculous they sounded. 

 That last night found you and him sitting alone on the dock, looking up at the starry sky above. All the dock workers were either at the meal in the Great Hall or in their own homes. 

 "Father says we'll be back on the next full moon. Trade here has been good." You said, tracing a knot in the wood below you. 

 "Why do I care?" He scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "You are an annoying person to have around. I plan on feasting and celebrating once your ship leaves tomorrow."

 "Good, you waste your time, so when I return, I will beat you in archery since I plan on practicing every day."

 "You could practice until Ragnarök and still never beat me."

 You shrugged, his mockery amusing you more than anything. You had learned over the past two weeks that taunts and ridicule flowed from his mouth easier than any kind word. "We shall see."

 A comfortable silence settled around you two once again. The gentle crashing of waves and the call of seagulls filled the air, lulling you both into contentment. You shifted to lay down on the dock, raising a hand to trace the constellations in the sky above you. After a couple of minutes, Ivar laid down next to you, your shoulders touching, as he watched your hand. 

 "Next full moon?" He confirmed quietly, his raspy voice just above a whisper. 

 "Try not to miss me too much." You quipped. 

 He chuckled, turning his head to look at you beside him. "I won't."

 "Good. I won't miss you either." 

 Smiling, you mirrored his action. Time froze as you two stared at one another, realizing how close you actually were. As if on its own accord, Ivar's gaze drifted down to your lips, so close to his own. Suddenly, your tongue darted out to wet them causing Ivar to jerk his eyes back up to meet yours. Insecurity and doubt prevented him from moving, from kissing your lips like he had dreamt about so many times. At first, he had rejected the dream, convincing himself it was pure foolishness, that he could never be interested in someone like you. Yet over the passing days, the dream never abated. When alone with his thoughts, sometimes he would retrieve the dream from his mind and turn it over like a treasured item to admire before putting it back on its shelf. 

 With widening eyes, he laid there stunned as your gaze dropped to his lips and that hand that had been tracing the stars now gently caressed his bottom lip. His mouth opened in a gasp, beyond astounded by your action, but more surprised by the feelings it invoked in him. 

 A shout from the end of the dock shattered the intimate moment. You rapidly sat up, your attention fully on the person who yelled your name. Moving slowly, Ivar pushed himself up and looked down to the end of the dock to see your father standing there. You waved in acknowledgement, a nervous giggle slipping from your mouth.  

 "I have to go."

 Even as disappointment tainted his world, he refused to let it show, making sure to keep his tone harsh and mocking. "Finally, I was starting to doubt I could get rid of you."

 You laughed, starting to rise to your feet but froze for a moment. In the next moment, you scooted closer, grabbed his face and kissed him. It was only a gentle press of your mouths, full of innocence and familiarity, yet it felt like a promise. Before he could respond, you pulled back and practically sprinted down the dock. He watched you disappear amongst the buildings of Kattegat at your father's side. Once gone from view, he turned back to look at the stars. Though his focus remained solely on the tingling sensation on his lips and the memory of your first shared kiss. In the moment, Ivar wondered if the gods were finally smiling down on him. 

 *****

 Footfalls approached him from behind. The steady steps slapping against the wooden boards of the dock let Ivar know who it was without him even having to look. The ruffling of his hair confirmed the person's identity. Only one person was allowed to do that to him. 

 "Still waiting I see." Ubbe asked, looking out over the sparkling water. "Mother is getting worried. You've been here most of the day."

 "Let her worry. As you can see, I am fine."

 "Mmmm…. you sure it is just friendship between you and y/n? I have never seen you wait for anyone else so relentlessly to return from a trip."

 "Say another word and I'll gut you." Ivar narrowed his eyes at his brother, a growl clawing at his throat to erupt at the teasing. 

 Ubbe just chuckled at the threat. He reached over to ruffle Ivar's hair once again but Ivar smacked his hand away with annoyance. 

 "I'll come back for you for the evening meal." Ubbe started to turn when something caught his eye. "Ivar…. a ship."

 Ivar tried to straighten up further in a futile attempt to see farther. It was a few more minutes before he was able to see what caught his brother's eye. There slipping through the water was a ship, one he recognized. A smile lit up his face without him even realizing, diminishing his usual severe expression into a boyish glee. Though he made no comment, Ubbe certainly took notice.

 The ship slowly approached, the men at the oars bringing the ship closer to Kattegat's docks. Ivar found himself tapping his hand on the boards beneath him as if that could somehow speed up the ship's arrival. 

 As the ship prepared to dock, your face popped up over the side, eyes scanning the dock furiously. When your gaze landed on him, a smile split your face that rivaled the warmth of the sun. Soon as the ship was tied off, you scrambled awkwardly over the side and ran straight at him. Ivar barely had time to brace himself before you dropped to your knees beside him and cupped his face, bringing your lips to his. This time, he was ready. He grabbed your head, keeping your mouth on his. What was meant as a sweet kiss quickly turned greedy with the way you both demanded attention using teeth and tongues. 

 When the two of you separated, lungs screaming for air, you stared at each other, your lips swollen and eyes alight.

 "Did you miss me?" You asked breathlessly. 

 "Not at all." He quipped, though you both knew it was a lie. Especially when he pulled you back in for another searing kiss that left no doubts of his true feelings towards you. 

[griffin-wood]

all's well that ends well

pairing: Adam x Lya, Nate x Lili, Felix x Irene and Naya x Mason.

summary: post-mission celebration with a bit of chaos with the whole gang together.

prompt: Day 7 - ✨ celebration ✨ for @wayhavensummer

a/n: we reached the end of the prompts, thank you to the mods for creating this event ! sending much love and goodness your way, and I hope all of you enjoy this! Its quite...rusty and long, but its definitely one of my proudest one yet. Happy final wayhavensummer! 💙

"Okay, here's the plan...." Naya's voice boomed through the warehouse - her commanding tone somewhat matches Adam who nods at her.

"Wait, are you sure this is safe? We have like one chance to take them out and you plan to just barge right in Naya?" Irene raised an eyebrow in disbelief, as Naya crossed her arms.

"well, do you have a better plan than Leyva?" She snickers at her - earning an amused look from the red-head herself.

"You bet I do! We use the guns, I have a few of my inventions that might help to take them down. It makes the job much easier than risking ourselves to get hurt." Irene took out one of the techs she brought with her and place it on the table earning a whistle from Mason and Felix who looks intrigued by the whole situation.

Naya scoffs and took a seat by Mason's side on the velvet couch where he placed an arm around her waist as she leans into his touch, letting out a tired sigh.

"Lili, anything from the research that might help lighten up the situation here?" Lya asked as Lili nods with her notes in hand.

"From the research, we did earlier - Unfortunately, the group of supernatural we are coming up against are very very strong. There was stated somewhere that certain guns can take them down for a certain period..." She was cut by Nate's voice joining into the conversation.

"and they also can leave quite a pretty painful mark on their victims. If we are careful, we can take them with the agency tranquilizer gun and... unfortunately, dead man's poison." The sour tone that left him made the room quiet - somehow leaving them no choice other than to annihilate them.

"We gotta do whatever it takes, even if it's DMB." Lya states with a solemn tone in her voice - as her eyes met with Mason, who gave her a supportive nod from afar.

"Alright then, it's settled. We will take the DMB, the guns, and anything that we could use to take them down. They've been quite a menace in the town, so let's get ourselves prep and we leave at midnight." Adam's commanding tone fills the room once more, as everyone nods in agreement - before leaving the room to prepare for tonight's mission.

-

Lya and Adam were the only ones left in the room, as the others left for lunchtime. The girls decided to have lunch at Lya's apartment later to taste her 'exquisite cooking' which was quoted from Naya herself.

"How are you feeling about the mission tonight?" She took a seat beside him on the couch, as placed a hand on his back.

"I hope we can take it, it's our last chance, and - I believe we can do it tonight." His gaze softens as it's met with hers before he takes her hand and squeezes it.

"I hope so too. I can't wait for it to be done, and we can at least take a break for the weekend." She lays her head on his shoulder, letting out an exhausted sigh.

Adam nods in agreement, as he places a kiss on her forehead - a smile creeps on Lya's face at the gesture.

"I'll see you tonight, the girls and I are making lunch together." Lya stood up from the couch with adam following by her side, his hand never left hers.

"Let me walk with you there." He replies as she smiles at his words, as they walked into the common area of the warehouse where the others are having quite a fun time together.

-

Mason and Naya were talking in a hushed tone, as the smile on his face tells Lya everything she needs to know. Felix and Irene are in the middle of a battle with Nate in a fuse ball match , which earns a whoop of victory from them both as Nate tries his best to catch up on a win. Lili is stood on the side playing as the referee who lets out a fit of giggles at her boyfriend's antics.

“Who’s winning here mate?” The excitement tone in Lya’s voice is evident as Irene and Felix let out a whoop at another goal as Nate sighs with a small smile on his face.

“Team Irene and Felix leading forward, with 2-0.” Liliana announced as Lya stood beside Nate, joining him in the action.

Both teams manage to pick up their pace, as they ended up with 3-2, with Irene and Felix leading in as always.

“Good game everyone!” Liliana announces excitedly before making her way towards Nate and hugging him, and a kiss as a congratulation.

As Felix and Irene spun each other excitedly, as he kissed her - a victory kiss they say.

“Good job teammate,” Lya said as he pulled Nate into a wide hug also, with Irene and Felix taunting excitedly at their victory.

“We will come back for vengeance soon!” Lya replies in an exaggerated tone in her voice, as she gave them both a victory hug – before Naya and Mason join in the conversation.

“What is this the physical affectionate festival?” She teases the group, as Irene fires back.

“Speak for yourself, Naya.” She raises a teasing eyebrow her way before Naya lets out a laugh at the statement.

“Shut up.” Irene just smiles, as Naya scoots forward as she ruffles her hair making her let out a groan with the smile still intact on her face.

“Let’s get going, we will see you all tonight alright? Anything just calls us, we will get here as soon as we can.” Lya reminds them, as the four of them left the warehouse together in a fit of laughter.

“Our lives certainly has become more interesting with them around huh?” Felix stated with a wide smile, as Nate nods in agreement.

“Interesting is one word to say it. Now, let's get ourselves some rest before tonight.” Nate leads all of them back into the warehouse with a wide smile, as they prepare together for the mission.

-

Lya stands behind the counter, preparing their meals with Liliana by her side. Lili found herself setting the tables while Naya and Irene are making their way to the table.

“So, how are we feeling for tonight?” Lya asked, before taking a sip of soda.

“I’m pretty excited, those guns are prepared and loaded; ready to use!” Irene exclaims excitedly as she took a seat in one of the chairs, with Naya joining her on to opposite.

“Honestly, I feel like we will finally win something today. Well, hopefully.” Liliana said hopefully, as Lya nods in agreement.

“Let’s hope our plan and prepare enough, I don’t want any of you to get hurt,” Naya stated suddenly, as Lya smiles at the statement while Irene lets out a gasp (mockingly) as Naya rolls her eyes.

“Naya does care about us guys!” Irene wipes a fake tear that has fallen from her eye with a form, as Liliana lets out a fit of giggles.

“Guys, enough – stop teasing her. We love you too N.” Lya replies, as they started to eat together, talking about everything and nothing at once.

-

“Okay guys, let’s do this!” Naya took the lead, as they all are in position. Everything is ready, as they fought – as much as they could. They released the dmb, every weapon and skills were use as Everyone played their part. Everything falls according to plan - the bruises and cuts were proven as the aftermath of the situation.

-

“So, I think that’s the last of them….” Lya stated as she gestures upon the rest of the supernaturals which have been fought by them all.

“Lili, any sign of other beings tonight?” Adam asked through the agency radios as they split up with Lili and Felix at the other side, guarding it all.

“Nothing – the coast is clear. Good job guys! Felix and I are on our way.” Lili’s voice echoed from the agency radio, as Lya, Irene, and Naya pulled one another into a group hug.

“We did it, and we survive!” Irene yells before was met with a glare from Adam which says, ‘tone down’ as she zips her mouth immediately which follows with a fit of giggles from the others.

“Are you guys hurt???” Felix came and made his way to Irene who shakes her head in excitement.

“We are fine Felix, a bit battered and bruised – but, we came in one piece. Thankfully, the number of supernatural has decreased from tonight, but we should still be careful in case there’s more hiding in plain sight.” Lya replies as the others turn their heads around their environment, as Mason scoots forward using his hyper-senses to sense any unusual activity which thankfully is none.

Naya stood beside Mason, as they walked together forward.

“You okay?” He asked her, as she nods – letting out a yawn.

“Just exhausted, and I’m ready for this day to be over.” The tiredness can is true, as Mason stops her before offering a ride on his back, which shakes her wide awake from her sleepy situation.

“Are you sure?”

“Sweetheart, I’m sure. Let’s go, climb up here.”

"Wait, I forget one thing" she said, before giving him a kiss, as he smiles happily before she climb onto his back, as they lead the crew back to the SUV.

-

“Those two look very much comfortable there.” Irene wiggles her eyebrows as Lya nudges her shoulder.

“Naya deserves to the urm…special treatment, as she did took down a lot of them.” Adam states as Lya nods in agreement.

“Babe, if you wanna be carried as well – you should just ask.” Felix raised an eyebrow at Irene before a smug smile appeared on her face.

“Well, you need to catch me first babe.” Irene speeds down the road with an unexpected surge of energy in her.

“You’re on!” Felix yells before following her from behind – as they race their way to the SUV almost colliding with Naya and Mason far ahead.

Nate lets out a fit of laughter at the pair,

“I am confused on how much energy those two have even after battling a supernatural.”

Lili smiles before explaining,

“I think it’s the caffeine she took earlier before the mission – she might have the boost of unexpected energy despite it being…4 in the morning.”

“She’ll crash as soon as we reach the back, I’m very much certain of that.” Lya continues, as Lili stays behind with Nate.

-

“How are you feeling, did anything hurt?” Liliana asked with concern in her tone.

“Love, I’m okay. A bit exhausted but, we did our best and we survived.” Nate replies happily as he places an arm around her waist pulling her close to him.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t much help tonight, combat wasn’t very much my specialty.” Lili’s voice was filled with a hint of sadness, which Nate noted right away.

They both stop in their tracks, as Lili turns to face him – he is smiling at her.

“Lili, it's okay. We all have our strengths and weaknesses – and you did help us today. Both you and Felix played a vital part in our mission as well.” He grazes her cheek, as she smiles before leaning up with her tiptoes reaching his lips.

After pulling away, they walk hand-in-hand with a smile on her face as they spoke in hushed whispers together, making their way towards the others.

-

“C’mon slow-poke, we’ve been waiting for an hour now.” Felix teases Adam who took out the keys for the SUV, as they went their separate ways with the detectives taking Lya’s car.

“We should stay at the warehouse tonight, it's much safer there,” Lya states, as they follow the SUV from behind – making their way back to the warehouse.

As they arrived, they went on separate paths – as Naya joins Mason, while Irene and Felix walking together to their respective rooms – with Irene still teasing Naya along the way.

“Good night Lya, we will see you tomorrow.” Liliana hugged both Lya and Adam who is still getting used to the sudden gesture, as they bid goodnight.

-

“So, how are you feeling after everything?” Lya asked Adam, as they walked together back into his room where they will share for the night. As they start to finally be together, they have gotten comfortable with one another – and she enjoys the time she spends with him. Sometimes they would talk about their stories or anything – there was laughter behind the closed doors and it's their secret moments that made her smile.

“I’m glad it ended up the way it should – nobody was hurt and, well…you are safe.” He says the last bit slowly, as Lya smiles at the words.

“I am capable Adam, you need to trust me on that.” She sighs, as they stopped in front of his door.

“I know, I do. Always.” He says, as they ended up cuddling together – as Adam tells her a story about the knight's tale from the past, which intrigues her until they both fall into a slumber.

-

“A celebration!”

“A…celebration?” Lili asked stumbling into the kitchen while a yawn escapes her.

“Yeah, a celebration! Lya can cook and we can have a fun celebration with smores – we been fighting them for a while now, we deserve a celebration.” Irene explains as Naya joins the gang, as she saunters the group in a good mood.

“Good morning, yes – let’s celebrate.”

Lya raised a knowing eyebrow at her, before agreeing.

“Let’s do this. I’ll call Adam and we can divide and conquer.”

-

As the evening rolls, they are sat in front of a bonfire with the courtesy of Adam and Nate.

The food was set, there were also smores on the side as they all sat down together around the bonfire – as the stars above them shine brightly.

Felix and Irene were cuddled up together with a blanket around them, as the others follow suit.

“So, this is the end of a good mission then,” Naya said from her seat, as a smile is present on her lips.

“All’s well that end’s well.” Lya raised a glass of her drink with a smile on her face.

Lili pop a marshmallow in her mouth, as they all settled.

“Y’know as much as I love the madness of our missions together – this is the highlight,” Irene admits, as she leans into Felix’s shoulder as he places a kiss on top of her forehead.

"Look who is emotional now huh" She teases her, as Irene stuck out her tongue to her with the smile become much wider than before.

“It’s a peaceful night, and from what we have been doing – we deserve this,” Mason speaks up, as Naya smiles at him.

“I longed for more nights like this, just us together – no missions, no equipment, just us,” Lya adds as the others agree.

“Let's make a promise then, every once in a while – we would do this all over again. Tonight, the stars have aligned for us, and who knows when will it be next.” Nate stated as he attempts on making smores with Liliana as his assistant.

“I very much agree, it's not every day we got to be together like this. It feels…” Lya paused for a moment, meeting Adam’s eyes who nod at her in agreement.

“It feels right.” As Adam's words ring into the air. The night continues as they celebrate their wins and mistakes. Laughter fills the night, as the stars become the witness of the night - the sky shines a bit brighter for them all tonight.

As the definition of the celebration itself is to celebrate an important day or event. Tonight was a night to remember, a moment of celebration for the whole gang and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

THE END.

Tags: @wayhavenots @homeformyheart @takemyopenheart @winterkeys @mevnraels @coldshrugs @nathanielhsewell @detectivehathaway @lalizah @kelseaaa

[danceworshipper]

Giulio Moretti - HPMA Character Profile

template by me // images created using the zepeto app

NOTE: I am a cisgender female. As such, I have been hesitant to make a trans oc and will not be going into much detail about Giulio's experiences specifically related to his gender. If anything in here feels iffy to anyone not cisgender, please let me know and I'll correct it

Personal

Full Name: Giulio Antonio Moretti

Gender: Male (trans)

Sexuality: Demisexual, polyamorous

Birthday: June 1st

Age: 11

Birthstone: Alexandrite

Zodiac Sign: Gemini

Blood Status: Full Veela

- I'm mostly using these headcanons written by @carmilla-the-bird, though over time I might end up changing a couple details

- I'm not certain if full Veelas would even use wands/go to magic school but these ones do because I say so

- What I'm specifically adding is that since HPMA takes place later than the full HP series, there has been a new method developed to allow full veelas to better coexist with wizards. This comes in the form of a clear gemstone that can be inserted into any piece of jewelry, usually necklaces. While the stone is worn, the charm [or allure, as I call it] that all veelas have while glamored is dampened by up to 80%. Another effect is that when angered, the veela won't be able to lash out with their fire magic, unless they've trained their magic well enough that's it's less of an instinct and more of a conscious choice. Minors are legally required to wear it at all times, except in their own home with only their family around. Once an adult the veela can choose whether they want to wear it or not. The stone has a similar trace to underaged magic, so when a Veela who's a minor takes it off, the Ministry is alerted and their location will be tracked

3 Positive Traits:

- Empathetic

- Resourceful

- Playful

3 Negative Traits:

- Irritable

- Addictive

- Pessimistic

Usual First Impression: When meeting Giulio, most people see him as a spoiled and stuck up little boy. This isn't true. He's just very wary of strangers, so he doesn't tend to leave a good first impression. Once he's more comfortable around someone, his positive traits outshine the more negative ones

Location

Birthplace: A Veela-specific clinic in southern Italy. His mother travelled there for all of her children's births, and the midwife there is the woman who delivered her

Current Home: His family home in England, a medium sized house under a strict Fidelius charm, which his aunt is the Secret Keeper for. His bedroom is on the second floor, looking out over the fish pond in the backyard

Future Home(s): Fresh out of Hogwarts he'll share an apartment with Lori with heavily warded Floo access. Later homes TBD once his love interests are planned out

Favorite Place: The little house the family rents for a month every summer in southern Italy. The town is full of good culture, and better yet, good food. It feels peaceful, even when there's a loud festival going on

Disliked Place: The woods a mile down the road from his home. The woods are the last place Giulio saw his grandmother before she went missing, and now they feel like they're haunted. He refuses to go on walks there anymore

Appearance

Face Shape: Round, slightly pointy chin

Eye Color: Deep teal

Hair Color: Whitish blond

Hair Style: Self cut (horrifies his mother), slightly uneven, medium length. Not brushed every day, fluffy

Skin Tone: Pale

Freckles/Spots: A few beauty marks on his face, two near his right eye and one on the left side of his chin

Scars: None yet

Piercings/Tattoos: None

Height: 5'7" [fully grown]

Weight: ~ 135 lbs [fully grown]

Physique: Thin. Luckily for him, Giulio's family has always had rather "boyish" bodies - wide shoulders, not very curvy - but he's still got too much woman in him to be fully happy with his form

Clothing Style: Baggy tops, loose pants, nothing fancy. Giulio tries to attract as little attention as possible, because while he's glamored people stare at him a lot anyway, even with the dampener. He does like colored pants, but his tops are usually grey and black. His dampening necklace is the most eye catching thing he wears (as it was a gift from his missing grandmother) and he wishes he could take it off, but he legally can't

Carried Items:

- The last picture of him, his sisters, and his grandmother ever taken

- A lighter. He likes having the fire near him since he can't access his own fire magic

- His hair scissors, for whenever he feels like it needs to be trimmed

- A container of Silly Putty he got from a Muggle convenience store

- His water bottle

Magic

Wand: 10" Veela hair wand in Fir wood. A very pale colored wand that's a bit rough around the edges. The hair is from his younger sister Martina, who yanked the strand right out and handed it to the wandmaker after no wands appeared to choose a very defeated looking Giulio. The wand was made while Giulio watched, and he checked it many times throughout the process to make sure it felt like it would have him, which it did.

Animagus: As a veela, Giulio can transform into pretty much any bird shape. He has no need to go through the animagus process

Boggart Form: Him, fully matured, very womanly, and in a wedding gown just like the ones his older sister Alessia fawns over

Riddikulus Form: Him in a ridiculously exaggerated Bloody Baron costume

Amortentia (to others): Someone smelling Giulio would smell new pillows, the faint burning metal scent that clings to him, and the dry shampoo he uses

Amortentia (to them): He doesn't smell any sort of romantic interest yet. What he smells now are safe, comforting smells, like the cigars his mother and aunt smoke, the perfume all his sisters use, and the smell of his favorite restaurant in southern Italy

Patronus: Bird of Paradise

Happiest Memory: Receiving his wand once it was completed, and finally feeling the connection and power he'd heard so much about but thought he'd never have

Mirror of Erised: Some might consider it sad, but all he sees is him, happy, the way he wishes he was - including not looking at all like a Veela. Someday this will change

Family Spells: It's not really a spell, but the Morettis have a particular bird call that, when paired with the right charm, will alert every living family member to the caller's location, should one desperately need help. It's only to be used in emergencies. Giulio isn't sure he wants to know why his grandmother never used it

Inherent Magic: Veela stuff - storm sense, fire, bird transformations, allure, slight levitation abilities

Family

Grandmother: Francesca is not an ideal parental figure. She grew up in a time when full Veelas were treated with nearly the same suspicion and prejudice as werewolves, so she's very anti-human. However, she was still one of Giulio's best defenders and most treasured family members. She places a huge importance on family and is the one who came up with the idea of the special danger call. Francesca went missing when Giulio was seven, and there have been no clues as to what happened.

Mother: Valentina is a kind, gentle woman who cares for her family before anyone else. She and her sister were taught all their lives to be nothing more than a pretty face, and while Bianca rejected this, Valentina embraced it. Even now, with her own mother nowhere to be found, she has trouble remembering to be herself. She wears her necklace at all times, terrified to be without it

Father: Giulio never knew him. He's not sure he even has one

Aunt: Bianca is, in many ways, the exact opposite of her sister. Bianca embraces all of her less than proper instincts, and even walks around in public completely unglamored, acting as a good deterrent to anyone who might want to come say hi, innocent intentions or not. Gets angry very easily, and has caused public property damage more often than Valentina would appreciate

Sisters: Two older sisters, one younger. All Slytherins while in school

- Alessia, six years older, prefect. A headstrong young woman who takes advantage of her allure to get what she wants, and is skilled enough to fight off anyone who gets too "friendly". She likes to have a collection of boy toys she never lets get too close, but secretly only has eyes for the Hufflepuff prefect, Lina.

- Emilia, four years older, Quidditch captain. Hates her allure with a passion and refuses to even think about romance until she's out of school. Could kick anyone's ass, and will do so if she feels the need to. Very protective of Giulio, has gotten into at least eight shouting matches with those who misgender him

- Martina, one year younger. The baby of the family. A bit of a spoiled brat, and too young to fully understand exactly why her older siblings are all so wary of strangers, or letting her out of their sight. She dreams of being the Minister of Magic, and of being able to take her "stupid, ugly, and stupid" necklace off for good

Pets: The two family screech owls which trade off being at school/home, and an Abraxan Giulio found on Hogwarts grounds that likes him a lot

Family Values: The Morettis hold nothing higher than each other. The family's main priority is sticking together, and always doing whatever they can to help each other achieve whatever they wish. The family is also, as a whole, rather reclusive

Opinion of Family: Giulio loves his family. For all their faults, they hold true to their values and he couldn't imagine one of them ever betraying another. Even if they won't ever truly understand him, they've all tried and they do what they can, and it means more than he can say

Friendships

Introverted or Extroverted: Introverted

Best Friend: Oleander Loris. Her anger issues, her weird pink eyes, and her tendency to drag him along to social outings are all things that Giulio comes to appreciate over time. He originally became curious about her on the train ride to school, when she stumbled looking at his older sisters but didn't notice him at all, and they spoke for the first time in Flying class. Lori is definitely a force to be reckoned with, and the fact that she's not affected by his allure in the slightest makes him feel really happy

Worst Friend: TBD

Friend He Didn't Expect: Cassandra. They aren't the best of friends, and maybe they can't be considered friends at all, but she doesn't hold the contempt she seems to hold for most others for him

Who He Wishes Was His Friend: Kestra Fernera. She's got fire powers, and she doesn't have to be chained down by the Ministry. He thinks she's super cool, and is very jealous of her and how popular she is, but he's far too nervous to try and talk to her

List of Casual Friends:

- Brian Haywood-Reese @catohphm

- others TBD, but likely the main cast of the game. Mc friends welcome, if any are interested!

Romance

Current Crush: None

Current Partner: None

Past Partners: None

Future Partners: TBD

His Type: Pretty much anyone who's able to look past the allure that Giulio hates so much and also isn't afraid of him in his natural form, though most people haven't even seen it

Hogwarts

House: Slytherin

Prefect Status: No

Quidditch: Not on the team, but plays casually

Clubs: TBD

Organizations: None

Favorite Class: Flying. Duh

Least Favorite Class: Potions. It gives him a headache surrounded by all the fumes

Favorite Professor: TBD

Least Favorite Professor: TBD

Timeline

Young Childhood:

- Giulio realizes young that he hates the idea of being a girl, and insists that his mother change his name. His family thought it was a phase, but once they realized it wasn't, they became more serious and started to see what they could do to help him

- He's a sheltered child, learning early the importance of staying close to a trusted adult. He sees the horrors of what can happen to a Veela caught unaware at a young age when he almost loses his mother to someone who wanted to sell her, and never looks at strangers the same way again

- At five years old Giulio is given his dampener necklace. He refuses to wear it until his grandmother forcibly puts it on him. He decides it's not that bad, though it feels like it's choking him and he doesn't like the muted feeling in his hands that comes from the loss of his instinctual magic

- At seven years old, Giulio is on a walk with his grandmother in the woods when he hears a loud screech. She sends him back toward the house, saying she'll be right behind him. Hours pass, and she never follows. There's no evidence as to what that screech was, or what happened to his grandmother

- At eleven years old, Giulio spends a week traveling to different wandmakers around Europe trying to find a wand so he can go to school in the fall. For some reason, his magic is picky and not a single wand even comes close to working for him. When he's given up all hope, his little sister Martina asks if the wandmaker takes custom orders, and rips out her own hair to be used for Giulio's wand. It's the first time Giulio cries happy tears, hovering his hand over the uncompleted wand and feeling it call to him already

School Years: TBD once I'm able to play the game

Post Graduation: Giulio moves into an apartment with Lori soon after graduating. While she immediately starts work, Giulio takes time to find some higher education, and work on training his Veela magic now that he can take his necklace off whenever he wants

Career(s): TBD

Marriage and Children: TBD

Death: Giulio will be murdered by [redacted] in order to save [redacted]'s life, but he'll be very old (around 200) and will have outlived his lovers, so he doesn't see it as too much of a shame. He'll be buried in the family garden and have some lovely flower bushes planted over him

Notable Facts Not Previously Mentioned

- The Veela magic in Giulio recognizes him as a boy as soon as he does. When his allure kicks in, anyone attracted to men finds themself affected, while those strictly into women do not, even though male Veelas are practically unheard of

- His aunt Bianca paid a personal visit to Hogwarts before he was enrolled, ready to throw flames if he was going to be put into the female dorms. Luckily, she didn't need to worry, as once the situation was explained it was settled with a simple change in his paperwork

- Giulio hates being cooped up indoors for too long. Even in the coldest days of winter, he'll spend as much time as possible outside

- Starting in third year, Lori will figure out how to get the necklace off of him without alerting anyone [putting it on herself within a few seconds], and Giulio will occasionally spend a few hours free and in his natural form in the Forbidden Forest. Unbeknownst to him, wearing the necklace saps at Lori's magical core, and it takes her a day or so to regain her strength if she wears it for more than thirty minutes

- Giulio will likely have three partners in the future. He could never even imagine having one, so if his younger self was told he would have three he would probably have a difficult time believing it

- Cutting his hair so frequently doesn't affect his magic like his mother feared it would, though he does feel nauseous when he does it

- The dark teal eyes are something only he and his sisters have, which is how he knows they all have the same "father" or whatever they had. His mother, aunt, and grandmother all have the traditional black eyes. Not even Alessia ever saw any type of man around when her younger siblings were born, so there are no clues as to how the four of them exist

- As much as he hates the dampener, it does him a lot of good when he's younger. He gets angry easily and often feels very defensive, so without it he could have gotten into a lot of trouble

- Though he doesn't like his allure, Giulio will sometimes take advantage of it like Alessia does if he wants to get out of something. He won't fight it, he'll play nice, and let whoever he needs to back off get a little dazed

- He wanted to hide the fact that he was a Veela when he first came to Hogwarts, but with two older sisters and his allure he couldn't

[friendofhayley]

I’m back after my hiatus from fanfiction, to give y’all the best multifandom recs of the fics I read this month. Shoutout to all content creators who helped us live to see the close of this year. This fic includes 15 fics for Sterek, Larry, Winteriron, and Geraskier. The starred ones put me through heaven and hell *chef’s kiss*.

Sterek (Teen Wolf)

1. Six Letter Word for Romance by @troubleiwant | domestic kink - omg there’s only one bed - soft Derek - oblivious idiots in love - 6k

Stiles definitely starts off thinking it’s fucking hilarious that Derek-sourwolf-Hale does crosswords and cares about scuffs on his furniture.

But at a certain point, and he can’t pinpoint exactly when, “fully functional adult couple” somehow becomes a massive fetish of his. Derek in sweats and bare feet, nudging his glasses up his nose while he does the Sunday crossword? Unff. Derek filling out forms to get some renovations on his property approved? Oh God, yes. Derek putting away groceries and bitching that the corner store was out of the right type of Greek yogurt? Take me now, Stiles thinks, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth.

This can’t be normal.

2. *Dirty Little Secret* by @isthatbloodonhisshirt | Cora & Stiles bffs - no one can resist the Stilinski charm - celebrity Derek - human au - 91k

“Holy shit, this is a date!” he blurted out, turning back to Derek wide-eyed. “This is a date! You intended for this to be a date, this was supposed to be a date!” He figured if he said it enough times, maybe he would believe it, but so far, no dice.

Derek was scowling again—seriously, did he want wrinkles?—but he just reached into one of the bags and pulled out a burger, checking what was written on the foil in sharpie before handing it over to Stiles.

“Of course it’s a date, what did you think this was?”

3. Can You Feel A Whole New Part of Your World? by @isthatbloodonhisshirt | i genuinely don’t look at authors names i just click i am sorry for spamming you but you write too good - neighbors Sterek - emotionally mature Stiles - the ideal fluffy world you’d want to live in - 53k

Can you hear me singing in the shower?” Stiles blurted out, because he had to know, now. If one of his neighbours had slid that note under his door, then it meant Parrish as another neighbour could hear him, too! He had to know if this was all a huge joke and one person had walked by and overheard him and decided to fuck with him.

Parrish gave him a weird look at the question, but answered anyway, making Stiles’ plans to leave the country speed up in his mind.

“Of course I can. You’re actually not bad. Though you have been singing a lot of Frozen lately, getting kind of tired of the soundtrack.”

4. Theory of Overprotective Canines by @petals42 | derek can turn into wolf - oblivious Stiles - future fic - mutual pining - 11k

Stiles is totally looking forward to living alone in his super cool apartment off-campus. He is. He is also very excited to bike to school every day, ready to set up an awesome game room, and definitely over his crush on Derek Hale. Completely over it.

Or at least he is until Derek decides he's moving in with him. And then turns out to be the perfect roommate. And then starts attending all his classes. As a wolf.

This is not going according to plan.

Larry (One Direction)

5. **The Changer and the Changed** by @homosociallyyours | literally the best fic of all time i want to live in there - girl direction - NYC ‘70s au - trans Zayn - the girls are so lovely - 59k

It’s the spring of 1977 and Harry Styles has just moved to New York City after graduating college. She knows she’s a lesbian. She just needs to figure out how to meet other lesbians.

Louis Tomlinson works at a popular women’s bookstore in the Lower East Side, Womon’s Direction, where she spends her days reading feminist literature, writing poetry, exchanging friendly barbs with her boss Niall, and dreaming of finding someone to love.

When Harry and Louis meet, their connection is instantaneous. Slowly but surely, Louis welcomes Harry into her community of women. Stonewall veteran and old school butch Niall; Liam, a land dyke who’s moved to the city for love; and Zayn, a lesbian musician who’s been ostracized by a vocal part of women’s community for being trans, welcome Harry with open arms, ready to help her find her place in New York City’s bustling lesbian scene.

6. others i’ve seen might never be mean (but they would never do) by @cherrylouvol6 | aaaaaaaa it’s lesbian When Harry Met Sally !!! - rom com - girl direction - coming out and first times - really great sex - 20k

Louis sighs.

“Do you remember what I said to you the first time we met?”

“That I’m naive and neurotic and would be hard pressed to ever find someone who could put up with me?” Harry snaps.

7. some things fade (some never do) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed | aaaaaa this story took me apart and back together again just like Louis and Harry - urban fantasy au - second chances - exes to friends to lovers - hurt/comfort - 25k

Matching tattoos. He’d never thought he’d be the type for tattoos to begin with, let alone matching or magical ones, but once Harry had put the idea in his mind it had never quite managed to disappear. And it had made sense. With their relationship a long distance one, this was simply another way of feeling close to one another. Of knowing where the other was, how they felt. It had made so much sense.

Back then.

8. we can take the long way home by @eleadore | i usually don’t rec my porn but there’s so much feels in this one - canon-divergent - kink discovery - friends to lovers - this was written in 2015 as a future fic but it felt like it was taking place now so good job - 27k

“Fertile,” Louis says, and then laughs because it sounds stupid to say out loud. He hasn’t ever really thought of himself in those terms. Baby-making terms. It’s just one of those things his body can do, like exercise, or go without tea. Doesn’t mean he will.

Winteriron (MCU)

9. **Dig No Graves** by @missaphelion | Tony finds out about his parents right after winter soldier au - Tony Stark has a heart - Bucky heals with bots and lots of sugar - slow burn - 142k

"I'm here to kill you, Terminator," Tony said slowly, "does that compute?"

The soldier looked up at him with wide blue eyes and no expression. "Okay."

Tony froze. "Okay," he echoed. "I tell you I came here to kill you and your response is 'okay'?"

10. A Rifling Matter by Penndragon27 | Winter Soldier has such a big crush on Tony’s weapons, he escapes Hydra au - identity porn - pining Bucky - fluff and angst - Winter Soldier is a fanboy and it’s cute - 37k

All the Asset knows is fighting, killing.

He also knows a good weapon when he sees one and Stark Industries... they make some great weapons.

11. *Winter is Coming (aka Fifty First Avengers Dates)* by @tisfan & @everyworldneedslove | enemies to friends to lovers to 50 first dates - pining Bucky - Tony gets amnesia - no Steve bashing but he’s a little bit of an ass - mental health issues - 109k

Bucky Barnes is still mostly The Asset, and he's pretty sure Hydra is going to come back for him soon, so in the meantime he's just going to keep an eye on the Avengers for them. But then Clint spotted him hiding in the shadows, so Tony came out and dragged Bucky back to the Tower, threw him in the shower, and fed him cheeseburgers.

Now The Asset is having anomalous feelings. In his pants.

Geraskier (The Witcher)

12. *no reason to run* by @yoursummerfrost | different meeting au - only one bed but camping - cursed Jaskier - soft Geralt!!!! - poly negotiations - 61k

"You'll change your mind one day," says the innkeep. "The road can't love you back."

What a strange way to flatten something so beautiful, Jaskier thinks. What a small way to love.

13. *He Fell into a Faerie Ring* by @geraltnoises | Jaskier gets bardnapped after the fight au - non-human Jaskier - soft Geralt - Jaskier encourages people to be kind and becomes a god - emotionally mature Geralt - 57k

Traders are a gossiping sort. If there was a scandal within the noble houses of Posada, you’d hear about it in Cretegor by the end of the week. So, the quick spread of a rumor about a little village in the Kestrel Mountain range was not at all surprising. What was surprising was the story that the traders wove. They said that Luibhtorrach, a sad, ghost of a farming town, had miraculously become a hub for trade, as if overnight. Their lands unbelievably fertile and brimming with crop. Even stranger, each and every one of Luibhtorrach’s people professed that their good fortune was the work of a mysterious beast they’d claimed as their personal deity. Most recent news foretold of their plans to throw a midsummer festival celebrating this newfound god. In preparation, silken blue banners were erected in every corner of the town, each bearing the symbol of their new patron: A delicate dandelion wrapping around a golden sun.

14. Barking Up the Wrong Tree by KHansen | 5+1 things - I’m worried about Geralt’s skills - non-human Jaskier - monsterfucker Geralt - crack treated seriously - 11k

Geralt is 100% certain that Jaskier is a vampire.

He's 100% proven wrong.

15. Bardic Idyll by Lisztful | fake relationship - Geralt is soft and oblivious - pining - fluff and angst - Jaskier you can’t show your emotions mainly through song! - 13k

Jaskier is certain he can win the Continent's annual bardic competition, but he needs to be accompanied by a dashing romantic companion in order to enter. Enter Geralt, who is definitely, for sure, only interested in the free food, and not at all in staring lovingly into Jaskier's eyes.

[princeasimdiya12]

Talentswap-DR1 Kids with V3 Talents

So I came across a post made by @mythgirlimagines who gave some headcanons that featured the kids from the first game with talents from the V3 game. I really enjoyed the idea and I began to think of my own headcanons for each kid and how their lives would be different with their new talents. So with their permission, I was able to come up with this. I hope you like it!

Sayaka Maizono as the SHSL Adventurer

As a kid, she spent all her time at home since her dad was always working and her mom passed away.

She found comfort in watching TV programs that showcased different countries and cities and loved seeing the people having fun together.

Wanting to find happiness like those people, Sayaka began to secretly wander around her home city and partook in sight seeing and trying new foods.

She also practiced interacting with the people and asking them different questions.

After getting enough practice, she began traveling around different parts of Japan before making her way through the Asian countries followed by the rest of the globe.

She vlogs her travels by uploading pictures and videos of the food, fashion and festivals in each place she visits.

The popularity of her vlogs has resulted in her gaining contracts with multiple tourist companies who want her to visit their cities to boost tourism.

Mukuro Ikusaba as the SHSL Pianist

Mukuro doesn’t really care about playing the piano. She only took it up because her sister insisted that she do something useful with her life

She spent most of her freetime practicing the piano and would perform for hours on end to see how far she could go before exhausting herself.

She’s won multiple awards and critical acclaim for her performances but they mean nothing to her if they didn’t come from her sister.

When Junko decided to become SHSL Despair, Mukuro began to channel her talent to her sister’s instruction.

Her music can manipulate the emotional states of anyone listening to her and increase it based on the melodies she performs.

Ex. A somber tune can make people into sobbing messes while an aggressive song can make listeners become hostile and violent towards each other.

Junko would use her sister’s talent to either influence new followers or to dispose of unlucky victims.

She mainly wears a slim black dress when she performs on stage.

Leon Kuwata as the SHSL Tennis Player

Just like in canon, Leon doesn’t like his talent. Particularly the heavy training that’s involved.

He mainly uses his tennis player image to become a celebrity.

This involves staging photo sessions with him posing in his tennis uniform or performing cool moves for the camera.

He mainly performs solo and the few times that he partakes in a doubles match is if his partner can boost his image.

This has resulted in him getting into arguments with them because of his lazy nature.

He ended up in multiple flings with various fangirls which tarnished his image as a celebrity.

His wardrobe consists of a white polo shirt with orange stripes, shorts and a red sweatband. 

Chihiro Fujisaki as the SHSL Maid/Butler

(As to avoid potential discourse, I’m going to gloss over their backstory and headcanon them as genderfluid)

They find cleaning and organizing rooms to be mentally relaxing.

They take pleasure knowing that a clean house or room will become much refreshing and comforting to their client(s).

Most people are surprised that someone as small and fragile like them is capable of doing multiple chores and duties in a single day.

They prefer to work behind the scenes or with as few people watching over them.

Chihiro often has difficulties when it comes to making public announcements to large groups.

Some days they dress up in maid uniforms while other days they dress up as a butler.

Their specialty when it comes to cooking is making perfect creme brulee. 

Mondo Oowada as the SHSL Artist

As a professional artist, Mondo can make a variety of artworks.

His area of specialties include sculptures and murals.

Despite making tons of money with his artworks, he secretly dislikes the rich people who buy his pieces due to their snooty personalities.

He initially hated his talent because he was hoping to be good at something that was more manly or cooler.

His big brother was the reason for why he became an artist to begin with.

Having been Mondo’s main parental figure their whole lives, Daiya wanted to ensure that his brother would have a secure career that he could be proud of and that he wouldn’t have to risk his life for. Just like he does as a gang leader.

After his inevitable death, Mondo took his art career more seriously to honor his big brother.

He wears cargo pants with a white tank top and has a paint splattered bandanna around his neck.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru as the SHSL Aikido Master

He took up aikido believing it to be an ideal practice of mastering self control

He devotes most of his freetime to studying the different forms of aikido aswell as the religious aspects tied to the skill.

At his old school(s) he became popular for taking down various delinquents who would terrorize his defenseless classmates. But what really moved everyone was how Kiyotaka invited each delinquent to join him so that they can master self control and change their lives for the better.

He ended up becoming the president of a large club dedicated to aikido.

Despite his popularity, Kiyotaka is still very awkward at friend making as all he can discuss is his general studies and aikido. 

All of his relations with his peers are purely professional.

Hifumi Yamada as the SHSL Anthropologist

He started out by watching foreign cartoons and dramas and wondered how different they were compared to the ones shown in Japan.

This led to him binge watching multiple foreign shows while taking notes and analyzing the cultural norms displayed in each show.

His hard work paid off when he landed a spot on a TV show where he showcased his research and the popularity for each show in their respective country.

He does most of his research in his hometown but sometimes he’ll travel to specific cities either to showcase new research or to analyze a TV show/movie production.

He dreams of being remembered as a hero who was able to connect every culture and bring world harmony.

He often reaches out to Sayaka in the hopes that they could do a travel collab together but she politely denies his requests using various reasons.

Celestia Ludenberg as the SHSL Inventor

She uses a steampunk lolita ensemble whenever she makes public appearances and speaks with a Victorian accent.

She’s able to maintain her composure when she’s in an environment with an exceptionally hot temperature.

Celestia takes pride in being able to take apart the most mundane of household appliances and rebuild them into something better and praiseworthy. 

Several companies have already commissioned her to make service drones.

She’s willing to make any invention that’s requested provided that the client can afford her extravagant prices.

There’s rumors that she’s been secretly making inventions that can brainwash people and turn them into her obedient servants.

She’s openly expressed interest in studying Kyoko’s existence but the robot makes it clear that she doesn’t want to be involved.

Sakura Oogami as the SHSL Entomologist

While she underwent extreme training thanks to her family’s profession, she has caused conflict among them for refusing to continue the fighting legacy in favor of her true passion.

She’s earned the nickname “The Mountain Woman” on account of how she’s always spotted hanging out in the mountain range studying bug life.

Sakura earned publicity by researching every individual insect found in Japan and how they interact with one another in their ecosystem.

Sometimes she allows the more dangerous insects and arachnids to bite/sting her so she can develop an endurance towards their toxins.  

She also does environmental activism by stopping companies from illegally destroying the forests.

In her spare time, she enjoys meditating in the middle of the woods or by waterfalls.

Aoi sometimes asks if Sakura could lend her some of her butterflies for her magic shows.

Junko Enoshima as the SHSL Supreme Leader

She’s a cult leader. Plain and simple.

Using her analytical talent, Junko can analyze any person who’s unfortunate enough to talk to her.

By lending her ears, she gives them the impression of a person who genuinely cares about them and their problems no matter how pathetic they may be.

Most of the people who are drawn to her are often poor unfortunate souls who have been hurt by society or loved ones.

Wanting to fight boredom, she used her initial members for manipulation games and mental torture to see how powerful her charismatic personality can be.

She uses her findings to establish herself as a prominent figure of the 21st century.

A figure that can guarantee dramatic change if her subjects are willing to follow her commands.

When she decides to become the SHSL Despair, she uses an alternate persona via Monokuma to broadcast messages of despair and hard truths to the listening audiences.

And to keep Hope’s Peak and the police from catching on about her plans, she makes it so that she runs an exclusive club for intellectual and high class individuals. 

Makoto Naegi as the SHSL Astronaut

Despite being average, he wanted to show everyone that it’s possible to accomplish the extraordinary even if you’re ordinary.

He loved the idea of going to space and seeing the beauty of the stars and the Earth down below.

Ever since middle school, he’s been training his body so he can be prepared for space travel.

He’s studied different star systems but he has difficulties when it comes to mechanical engineering and repair.

The closest he’s been to space was traveling in ships that reach high enough for him to experience zero gravity.

Despite being the youngest member of the space program, all the staff members adore him for his bright personality and his eagerness when it comes to completing missions.

In his free time, he tries to learn English and Russian should he be assigned to work with astronauts of the US or Russia.

Kyoko Kirigiri as the SHSL Robot

Her creator was her grandfather Fuhito who wanted an heir for his engineering business.

Her design was modeled after his young granddaughter who had died alongside her mother.

Having familiarized herself with the ongoing grudge between Fuhito and Jin, Kyoko can’t help but wonder if her creation was born out of spite.

She’s willing to follow along with her grandfather’s wishes but she does question if her actions are because she was programmed to follow them or because she herself wants to do it.

She’s built with a titanium body armor that can endure any extreme forms of damage along with providing her with super strength. 

Given the right resources, she can also hack any computer system and gain access to any information found in said system.

Jin had conflicting feelings about allowing Kyoko to enter Hope’s Peak due to her bringing up feelings of anguish for his lost daughter and needed to be pushed by his dad to accept her.

She prefers to stay in the background analyzing the actions and behaviors of her classmates but she will show no hesitation in using force to resolve potential conflicts. 

Byakuya Togami as the SHSL Cosplayer

In this reality, he lost his chance of becoming the Togami Heir and was banished from the family.

He still wanted to make a name for himself and decided to pursue a career that no one in his family would cross paths with him in: cosplaying.

Initially, he was depressed for a month after losing his big chance and immersed himself in anime shows to drown out his depression.

In a way, he found inspiration by watching the protagonists who continued onward and decided to make new paths for themselves despite failing to achieve their initial dreams.

If he wanted to be like them, then he could try dressing like them.

He only watches anime that has an enriching fantasy setting or has historical themes

Using what was left of his money, he funded a public fashion show that displayed the elaborate costumes of famous anime characters.

He became a big hit and was given sponsorships to produce more cosplays. 

He has a love/hate relationship with his talent. On one hand, he prides himself in being the best at cosplaying. But on the other, he hates it because it’s a reminder that he lost his right to be a Togami.

Touko Fukawa as the SHSL Detective

Having grown up reading mystery novels, Touko became familiar with the cliches and expected tropes found in each given mystery.

Before going freelance, she served as a secretary for a private detective.

When looking over his cases, she pointed out the familiar patterns for each case while explaining her reasonings behind her deductions. She ended up being right 9 times out of 10.

The PI decided to give her simple cases that involved family drama and cheating spouses to test and expand her knowledge.

Eventually she would be hired for more extreme cases involving drug rings and murder.

Because of her abusive childhood and upbringing, Touko still has Dissociative Identity Disorder and created Genocider Syo as a coping mechanism to protect her.

But rather than killing people like a cliche yandere, Syo shows up whenever Touko ends up cornered or captured by dangerous criminals.

While she has no idea what gloomy got herself into, Syo has no issue with thrashing the low lives who would threaten her existence.

This has often led to the criminals becoming seriously injured or even being killed as a result. When it comes to the latter, Syo takes special care to ensure that it looked like an accident or that the criminal died by someone else’s hand.

This unfortunately resulted in Touko having a bad reputation as a loose cannon detective.

The detective decided to cut ties with Touko to maintain his business but ensured to tell her that she has what it takes to be a true detective.

She still thinks badly of others and is quick to point out the negative qualities associated with that person.

Yasuhiro Hagakure as the SHSL Assassin

The reason he got into assassination was to own up for his mistakes.

When he was 13, his gambling habit led to him and his mother losing their house and having to live on the streets.

Wanting her son to learn responsibility, Hiroko called in an old friend who had ties with the local yakuza and requested that he give her son a job.

Unbeknownst to the two, the only job that the friend could offer was being an assassin. And wanting to make his mom proud of her boy, Yasuhiro accepted the job without telling Hiroko.

After years of brutal and life threatening training, Yasuhiro became the clan’s go-to hitman and was handsomely rewarded every time he successfully got rid of a clan enemy or someone who couldn’t pay their debts.

His preferences for killing involve drugging the victims with slow but lethal poisons or attacking them when they’re alone. His appearance requires him to be extra cunning as to avoid being detected.

Eventually he was caught by the authorities but was contacted by Hope’s Peak who learned about his unusual career. 

He was given two choices: he could go to jail for his murder or he could attend HP so that his talent could be studied while also receiving the school’s protection. Even a moron like Yasuhiro knew what choice to take.

When he went to tell his mom the good news, he found that she disappeared without a trace. Some say that Hiroko left out of shame when she found out about her son’s crimes, others believe that she was kidnapped and killed by revenge driven enemies. Regardless of the rumors, Yasuhiro has a gut feeling that she’s still out there and he intends to find her to make things right.

He uses the SHSL Fortune Teller title to keep his assassin career a secret.

He still maintains his carefree and ditzy personality both because no one would ever expect him of being a professional killer and so that he can keep pushing forward in life without falling into complete despair.

His baggy clothing and dreadlocks make it easy for him to hide knives or bottles of poison.

Aoi Asahina as the SHSL Magician

Ever since she was a little girl, Aoi loved everything about magic.

She read different types of fairy tales and myths so she can learn more about it and use them for her shows.

When she first started, she would perform tricks for her brother Yuta and would ask for his input regarding each performance and how she could improve herself.

Her costume is based on the classic witches mixed with a magical girl theme. (Think along the lines of Little Witch Academia).

Her magic shows put alot of emphasis on spectacle and enchantment so the people watching could fall in love with the concept of magic.

When she has the time, she bakes her own special donuts and offers them to a certain number of lucky participants.

Despite her friends and family encouraging her to participate in competitions, Aoi doesn’t feel that it would be right to use her magic tricks to compete for publicity.

She wants her magic shows to be an inspirational thing that brings happiness and wonder to the people watching.

She enjoys performing for children and often performs at schools, hospitals and orphanages.

The trick she’s best at performing is the underwater escape challenge.

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Fields of rainbow cecelias

They say that rainbow cecelias represent change, transformation, and new beginnings. To see a field of them in full bloom is no coincidence, a sign that it's time to move forward.

When the rainbow cecelias bloom, pay attention and take things as they come. Change can be overwhelming and scary, but also necessary. After all, we all aren't meant to stagnate, to become fixed in a position that may no longer serve us. It's hard, but we all have to move on, to grow and adapt, to let go and open yourself up to the unknown.

The newly reunited land of Mystic Heart has got me thinking about change, especially with what's going on over there right now. Basically, in short, the land used to rule as one before war tore it apart. For centuries the separate factions kept their distance while trying to gain the upper hand in an attempt to take over. In an attempt to bring the nation together, disaster happened and for years the land became barren as previously sealed off demons were reawakened and wreaked havoc. If it weren't for Mali and her comrades, the wonderbeasts wouldn't have been revived and the land be reunited as one.

It's been five years since then and now it's time to take the next step to bring forth this new era. The transition has been gradual and something that everyone knew was coming but it's one of those things where you can't really prepare for. After generations of ruling their own factions, the Five Families of Mystic Heart are stepping down for good, leaving the land to be ruled by the people and the wonderbeasts.

For people like Mali and her father, they knew that this day was coming, mainly because that's what they wanted. The older members will be retiring while for the others, it just means they no longer have a title. Mali and Alya will continue to be diplomats while their parents are still gonna guard captains, the main difference is that they no longer have to bear the responsibilities of ruling the land. As for those who are succeeding them, the Five have placed a lot of trust in these capable citizens so the future of Mystic Heart are in good hands.

This year's Dragon Flight Festival is special as it marks the start of this new era. A lot has changed since I last visited and since then, the land has been thriving. I remember before when things were still new and uncertain, everyone was getting along but there's still a lot of hurdles to go through. Now, a few years later, it's almost different, and that's when Mali and the others knew it was time to take the next step.

There's an abundance of rainbow cecelias this year. Colorful petals in all the shades of the rainbow, open and reaching out towards the sky. It's a marvelous sight to see, something that has never occurred before so everyone's taking the time to enjoy it for we'll never know when we'll ever see them again. From what I've heard, it seems like rainbow cecelias have a mind of their own, the kind of flowers that only bloom when they want to convey a message.

Mali and Alya have been super busy with the festival. In fact, Mali's been so busy that she hasn't had too much free time to rest in the past few months. Being a diplomat and ambassador's hard work so Mali's been out and about a lot. Alya's considering taking on some of Mali's workload, which I think will be super helpful. The others speculate that part of the reason why Alya wants to help out is to keep tabs on Mali. As Mali's schedule becomes busier, her friends and family rarely see her so with Alya around, at least she can have a better work life balance as well as give her father some peace of mind.

At least with the festival preparations out of the way, Mali can finally relax a bit. Though not for long as she and Kun have a business trip coming up. Kun is Mali's adoptive brother, a kid she took in after he lost his family in the disaster years ago. I was surprised not to see too much of him with setting up the festivities. He's a bit of a mischief maker, the kind of guy who easily ropes others into his schemes. Turns out he got into some sort of trouble - as in Mali's father, who's usually fair and forgiving, had to put his foot down and enforce strict rules - so he's trying to get back on his - and everyone else's - good side. Mali admits to spoiling him a bit, which is understandable given what he's been through, but at the same time it makes him get away with certain things a bit too easily.

During the daytime we got competitive through various games. I'll admit, I'm not the best at them, but it was a lot of fun! Mali knocked it out of the park with her archery skills when it comes to shooting balloons. Working with a bow and arrow is hard, especially if you're bad at aiming. She's a good teacher though, so while my archery skills still leave much to be desired, at least there's a chance I can improve.

Then there's the gliding challenge where it's basically like skydiving while collecting floating petal orbs. The more you get, the more points you score. Thank you Amber for teaching me the basics of wind gliding as using that knowledge helped a bit in terms of controlling where I fall. It's a bit scary since you do have to look down, but rest assured that you don't have to worry about falling to your death - seriously, they pretty much planned for everything from mishaps to weather. Just floating about is kinda relaxing once you get over the initial fear of falling and collecting orbs is satisfying. Also, it's cool to see the festivities from high above.

Along with the beautiful display of flowers, another highlight of the festival is the music. The rhythm games were a lot of fun, especially with instruments I've never played before. Kun joined us for some matches and he absolutely killed it on the sitar! He even went on stage for a bit and put on an impromptu performance with his friends.

The challenges that involve memorization were tricky - a bit frustrating, but still fun nonetheless. One of them involved falling platforms - you have to memorize the path when the room gets dark and get to the other side before the timer runs out. Step on the correct tile and it'll light up, step on the wrong one, the floor opens up and you fall in the water. Compared to the other one, this wasn't as hard - the trick is to count your steps carefully.

As for the other one, where the tiles turn invisible, I can't seem to get through that one without falling at least five times. Still, it's fun, especially with friends, and the water's refreshing on a hot day like today. Of course, Mali and Alya were able to avoid falling and reach the other side well before the time limit. Those tiles are really tricky!

Out of all the challenges we did, I have to say, my least favorite was the bubble one. Those things are super fast and once you're trapped, it's hard to get out. To make matters worse, the bubbles keep coming so if you're in a bad spot, you're pretty much continuously trapped in a bubble. Even Mali and Alya struggled while I think Kun had the least trouble, mainly because he's able to jump over some. I mean, it's still sorta fun, but more on the frustrating side, especially when you're trapped in a bubble for pretty much the whole time.

Around late afternoon/early evening we took a break from the festivities to look around the shoreline. Near the mountains stood the ballista mechanicus, a device built by Mali's mother that is still used to defend the land. It will send a signal to warn of imminent danger - which thankfully hasn't happened since the reunification. So now it's more of a surveillance device, something to look through if you want to find something or just take a glance of the land around us. In other words, it's basically a super cool telescope.

Seeing the festivities through the ballista mechanica was pretty cool! The device as a whole is an interesting piece of machinery. There's a few more ballista mechanicas scattered around the area, though most are no longer in use. Mali says there's plans of either reusing the old ones or building brand new ones to put in other locations. That'll widely depend on the conditions of the other devices - she's kinda hoping for the former because  it'll probably be easier than building one from scratch. At least they have her mom's blueprints but from what she's seen, it looks complicated.

We also walked around some of the ruins, some from not too long ago. Seeing them up close like that, it really drives home how much things can change in a short time. To think that years ago this place almost laid in waste and now it's prospering in a new era of peace - it's amazing.

There, we ran into the dragons and hung out with them. Sisi, as usual, was the life of the party. She's kinda like the cool aunt to Mali and Kun, a bit eccentric and silly, but occasionally drops some wisdom here and there. Sisi was a sought after creature, believed to be the last living wonderbeast before the others were revived, and she laid dormant for centuries before being awakened by Mali. And as they say, the rest is history.

Now, Sisi and the wonderbeasts are just living out their days. While dragons are still very much a part of the culture, they're not as revered as they once were - kinda like the Five. They're still guardians of the land, watching from afar. Sisi says it's like a weight has been taken off their shoulders, that watching over Mystic Heart is no longer the sole responsibility of the dragons. Instead, it is now a pact with the people to maintain peace and build a better future together. I think that's a nice way of putting it and I agree.

Sisi took us on a tour - first class flight, she calls it. Seeing Mystic Heart from above is breathtaking - the landscape looks like a dragon! It was so cool seeing the other areas and how they're doing! A lot I couldn't recognize as so much has changed. Seeing everything flourishing is beautiful. More than that, it gives me hope.

By the time we got back, it was night so we headed straight back to the festivities, just in time for the dragons to show up. We enjoyed the local cuisine while watching the performances. Then we did some challenges - I did a bit better on most other than the bubble one. Sisi later joined us and even she struggled with the bubbles - and she can fly!

At night, the blooms of the rainbow cecelia seem more vibrant. I swear, I think there's more of them now than earlier today.

[watchingtheroad]

Awakening in Arles

Damen and Laurent meet. Six years later, they meet again. 

Auguste Lives AU, Love at First Sight, First Kiss

[Inspired by this AMAZING artwork from @saltroclus of Laurent and Damen’s respective panic and pining upon seeing the other for the "first" time.]

Laurent, age 14–>20 Damen, age 19–>25 Auguste, age 25–>31

POV switches from Laurent to Damen every scene, with a surprise one at the end ;)

[AO3 Link]

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

Laurent was in the library, sitting among his dearest friends, apart from his brother Auguste and prize-winning horse: 

His books. 

There were hundreds of them lining dozens of shelves along the walls, and because his father was King of Vere, all of it belonged to Laurent by extension. 

He was thrilled and fortunate to have so many. Laurent loved to live through stories, to be transported to other worlds in his mind and go on magical adventures without ever leaving the palace. He had a hunger to learn everything he could—every language and battle strategy, and an endless number of useful facts to share with Auguste. From the moment he learned to read, he had promised himself he would devour them all, even the boring ones, because knowledge and stories were never really boring to Laurent. 

Except on the day the Akielon Prince came to visit Arles. 

As a demonstration of trust and good faith, he had come ahead of the Akielon King Theomedes and arrived without splendor or festivity, hopping off his horse with a modest guard of only two men at either flank. Laurent had not even left his rooms to greet him. He knew he had come for Auguste. Theirs was the business of heirs, not second sons. 

That morning, Laurent carried on as usual. He sat in his favorite chair in his favorite corner of the library with his favorite snacks. With his legs folded comfortably beneath him, he tried to focus on his studies. 

They could not hold his attention. 

Cruelly, he could hear the faint sound of commotion, laughter and the clanging of swords drifting in through the open window. 

He tried to resist. 

Really, he did. 

His curiosity took him over to look out. 

Down below in the courtyard, Laurent saw them—his brother and the Prince of Akielos. They were sparring, a small crowd gathered around to catch a glimpse of the Princes and their budding friendship. It was an important symbol for their countries. Once disputing, now reaching peace. Laurent knew the significance, even from the periphery as he was. Not long ago, whispers of war frightened him to nightmares. Despite his unwavering confidence in his older brother, he could not risk Auguste leaving for battle and never returning to him. He would not survive it. 

Watching the two of them, Laurent felt especially relieved that their nations would be signed into a peaceful alliance within the week. 

The Prince of Akielos was… imposing, physically. Younger than Auguste, Laurent knew, but taller, wider, with a longer reach, and very, very skilled. Auguste was the best fighter in Vere. The Akielon Prince was rumored to be the best fighter on the whole continent. It was unsettling in more ways than Laurent could place. 

His clothing was sparse, an Akielon custom. His accent was heavy, detectable even at a distant height, deep and strong. His laugh was—

Captivating. Laurent thought he might go and hear it up close.

His pulse bounded as he walked, a massive book in tow, as fast as his legs would carry him. He knew he must hurry before his mind changed and he chickened out of his plan: He would casually read resting against a tree nearby where they were sparring. 

He would not be watching the Prince of Akielos at all. Only reading. 

As he approached, Laurent made himself as unobtrusive as possible, his eyes careful on the broad back of the Akielon Prince. He had not yet made it to the tree, and so looking at him was still permitted. 

His upper body was distractingly bare, his complexion dark and golden warm, with thick, curly hair to match. Everything else seemed to fade to black as Laurent looked him over, once, then again, admiring the way his muscles flexed beneath smooth skin. He was unlike anyone Laurent had ever seen. 

As Laurent made to move past them to his chosen tree, horrifically, Auguste yelled to him, blowing his cover: 

“Laurent! You came out of your room, little brother!” It was not as shocking as Auguste’s voice suggested. Then— “Come and meet Damianos.” 

Laurent simply could not, but now he must. 

The Prince of Akielos turned. 

Laurent’s mouth dropped open, a muted gasp escaping him, and without his permission, his feet brought him over to them. 

The Prince was smiling, brighter than the sun that shined in Laurent’s eyes. A dimple adorned his left cheek. He said, in perfect Veretian, “Good morning, Your Highness,” and gave a bow of his head. “It’s an honor to meet you.” 

Laurent had a funny feeling fluttering in his stomach, heated all over. The Prince’s mere presence was quite nearly more overwhelming than his… everything else. Had Auguste honestly needed to call his name? Did he live to humiliate him?

Through his internal crisis, Laurent answered in his best Akielon, “Hello, Damianos. Welcome to Arles.” 

“Akielon!” the Prince said, delighted. He had been practicing for the visit. Then, much to Laurent’s surprise, he added, “Damen. Call me Damen.” 

“Damen,” Laurent repeated, smiling. The Prince had not even permitted Auguste to call him that. Laurent’s cheeks were surely the shade of the apples he had fed his horse with breakfast that morning. 

“Did you come to watch us?” Auguste asked, reaching out to ruffle his hair. The nerve. Laurent wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. 

“I came to read,” Laurent deflected, gesturing with his book. 

“And what have you come to read?” the Prince—Damen—asked. His tone held kindness and something akin to genuine interest, and Laurent was, again, taken aback. He did not expect the Prince to be so warm. Whatever the rush of feelings was inside Laurent, he had never experienced it before. 

“Oh, um—” Laurent stumbled his words, silently wishing for death. He had read the book countless times but could suddenly, uselessly remember nothing. “It’s just a silly story about a Prince on an adventure.”

“I happen to love silly stories about princes on adventures,” Damen said, using the towel a servant had brought to wipe the sweat from his neck and shoulders. “Perhaps you’ll tell me about it later?” 

“Of course,” Laurent nodded, his smile growing wider despite his efforts to conceal it. Ill-timed or not, he took that as his cue to leave, backing away slowly then turning quickly to retreat in case Damen changed his mind. 

“Well then,” Auguste chuckled, calling to him again, “See you around, little brother!” 

Laurent threw a half-wave over his shoulder, utterly mortified. Again with the little brother. He was trying to make friends with the Prince of Akielos! Auguste was not helping!

Once he arrived at his chosen tree, Laurent positioned it between them, taking a deep breath behind the safety of its wide trunk as he sat and leaned his back against it. After collecting himself, he opened his book to think about the best parts he might share, if asked by someone. 

If Laurent peered around the tree a few times for another look at the Prince as he read, that was no one’s business but his own.

+++ 

Damen rode into Arles for the first time in six years, with Nikandros and a single guard at his back just as he had come before. 

The countryside was vibrant, the breeze sweet and floral in the summertime. Damen felt rejuvenated upon his arrival. It was fun to escape Ios for a change, and to leave his country entirely was an adventure, especially for one as…stimulating as Vere. Another visit was long overdue; only this time, the King of Akielos would not be following behind him. It was a trip for catching up, not business, and Damen trusted the Veretians. 

They were, in a shocking turn of events for both countries, the closest ally of Akielos. Since the signing of their treaty, peace and friendship prevailed, which was a stark contrast from the violent past his father had taught him about growing up. 

And so, over the years, the Kings corresponded through letters, as did the Princes. As for the Prince of Vere’s younger brother, Damen sent him books once in a while. More silly stories about princes and other things with simple handwritten notes inside, inspired by their first meeting. He had hoped he liked them. Now Damen could ask. 

As he rode toward the palace, he passed a set of stables, grand and ornate as he remembered everything else in Arles. There were stablehands working, noblemen waiting for their mounts to be saddled. He wondered how many horses the building held and to whom they all belonged. 

Then, a young man walked out, his stride so graceful, as though moving on air. His hair was striking, golden yellow, with longer strands framing his lovely face. He carried himself with an arresting elegance, his expression neutral with an aura of unattainability. He was, indisputably, the most breathtaking individual Damen had ever seen. Since his last visit to Vere, he had warmed to the idea of men, bedding them when it suited him, but never had one bewitched him quite so strongly, so quickly, without a word or an act beyond walking. 

Damen stopped his horse in her tracks, squinting at him in the sunlight. He looked oddly familiar, but of course, Damen knew no one from Arles of his own age. He had not been there in a half dozen years. Suddenly, he wished to know this man from Arles. 

That singular, acute desire drove him off his horse without a second thought. 

“What are you doing, Damianos?” Nikandros asked, alarm dripping from his words. 

Damen barely looked at him. “Nothing. Go on to the palace. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Will you?” Nikandros pressed, dubious as ever. 

“Yes,” Damen answered. “Take my horse. You’ll barely notice I’m gone.” 

“I’m sure,” Nikandros grumbled, and if he said anything more after taking the reins from him, Damen was too far away to hear it. 

He turned the corner where the young man had gone, finding him with his sword in an empty arena around the opposite side of the stables. Meant for training horses, he was training himself. 

As he approached, Damen said, in soft Veretian, “Hello there.”

The young man looked, blinking a few times in quick succession, then looked again with a secret in his eyes. 

“Hello,” he said back, also in Veretian, a smile pleasantly threatening his mouth. 

“Do you keep a horse here?” Damen asked, unfortunately the first viable question to cross his mind through his nerves. It was unusual for him to experience them in any pursuit. 

It was exciting. 

“Have you come to police the stables?” the young man returned, tilting his head to one side in question. It was interesting he seemed to pay no mind to Damen’s status, obvious as it was with the red cape and golden lion pin at his shoulder. Damen did not care. He could do anything short of cursing his mother’s grave, and Damen might accept it. 

He was gorgeous, even in confusion, his eyes intensely blue and penetrating right through to the center of him, it seemed. His features were delicate in some ways, stronger and more distinctive in others. The sharpness of his cheekbones and jawline, the plush curve of his lips, his flawless skin… 

“No. Of course not. I just—” Damen faltered. “I’m only curious about you.” 

He lowered his gaze. Damen interpreted the flush that rose to his cheeks as a sign of encouragement. He eventually said, “I keep many, but only one is truly mine. Her name is Dauphiné.” 

“That’s a beautiful name,” Damen said. His accent flowing from that pretty mouth only served to enhance it all. “I would like to know the name of Dauphiné’s owner as well, if he would like that in return.” 

His smile grew wider, more amused than Damen thought warranted. “You don’t remember me at all, do you?” 

Damen furrowed his brow. “What do you mea—”  

“Damianos, my friend!��� Auguste’s voice boomed from behind him with impeccable timing. Damen wanted to shoo him away. “I see you’ve found my little brother already!” 

Damen recoiled at his words, stammering, “I’m sorry—Your little—What?” 

Little brother. 

Damen was stunned. It was as though the ground shifted beneath his feet, the world turning on its head to reconcile what he previously knew with who stood before him and what he saw and felt now. This was not a stablehand or a nobleman waiting for his horse. He had not cared that Damen was the Prince because he, too, was the Prince. 

He was completely blind not to see it. 

The blushing fourteen year old he met six years ago had grown into a man. A very attractive man. 

It was Laurent. And he was laughing, silently to himself. 

Damen could not locate his voice to speak. 

“Yes, Your Highness, he found me, but I was just leaving. I’m sure you two have fascinating things to attend to after all this time,” Laurent said, walking past where he stood in shock next to Auguste on his way out. Cooly, he murmured, in much-improved Akielon, “Welcome back to Arles, Damianos.” 

Damen could do nothing but stare, open-mouthed, after him. 

+++

[THE REST IS HERE ON AO3]

[worldofandromeda]

Chenle x Foreign Idol!Reader

Disclaimer: I apologise if you are uncomfortable with the topic of non-asian, kpop idols. This is just a little self indulgent, to be completely honest. But, personally, I think it's fine to have non-asians in K-pop as long as they respect and learn the language and culture.

~~~√~~~~√~~~~√~~~~√~~~~√~~~~√~~~~√~~~√

°you two met on the fifth day of K-World Festa, nearly a year after you debuted

°you are a soloist, known for your dance and rap skills, including the amazing stunts you do on stage, courtesy of the gymnastics classes that you paid for with your allowance during trainee days

°he was amazed by your performance and really wanted to talk to you after your stage

°he was a bit nervous but with a little advice from Jaemin, he was walking over to you

°he tapped on your shoulder, ready to speak confidently but lost his words when he noticed your eyes

°they were dark blue, something he'd never seen in an idol before

°he then noticed the difference in your looks after your makeup was removed, your hair was still as lavender as ever but your face was covered in freckles, your lips a natural colour compared to the black lipstick you wore when performing and he finally realised you were foreign

°he asked you a question in broken, stuttering English, to check if you were fluent in korean because even though you performed, it didn't mean you were completely fluent

°you replied in korean, saying, "yes, I spent a lot of hours during trainee days, learning about the language and culture."

°he would be fascinated by your story of how you were scouted by your company the week of your high school graduation and how you had been studying Korean beforehand due to your interest in kpop

°he was also pleasantly surprised when you mentioned that you were a fan of him and his music

°you two would go on your first date on the last day of the festival (to my knowledge, the festival lasts 9 days)

°he would take you out to dinner at the Sky Rose Garden (a rooftop restaurant located in the middle of a rose garden), then you would have a walk around Seoul, discussing your lives back in your home countries and how different it is to life in Korea

°he would walk you back to your apartment (your company allowed you to get one after debut) but before you went inside he'd grab your hand, softly asking if you would be cool with being his girlfriend

°you were shocked at how quick he asked but ultimately, said yes, kissing his cheek before running inside, yelling a goodbye to him.

°your relationship was announced 22 months in by SM

°dispatch didn't expose you guys because you didn't see each other often

°Chenle would come and stay at yours for the weekend every fortnight, so there wasn't much opportunity for dispatch to get photos

°you guys go on Knowing Bros together and answer questions about your relationship

°"Do you guys have nicknames for each other?" Chenle, blushing: she calls me 'my love'

°"How quickly did the relationship escalate?" Y/N: well, chenle asked me to be his girlfriend the day of our first date. Our first date was four days after we met. Our first kiss was two days after the date.

°the hosts are impressed by how much game Chenle has

°"Anything we don't know about Chenle that you can tell us?" Y/N: he likes matching couple items and he uses Aegyo to get what he wants, it doesn't really work most of the time though.

°"How was it when she met your parents, Chenle?" Chenle: my mum loved her immediately, my dad was a bit wary because he thought I would end up with someone from Asia but he's lightened up and really likes her now. Y/N and my mother get along so well that they go out for day trips together all the time and whenever I go to talk to Y/N, she's always on the phone with one of my parents.

°"How did your band members react to her?" Chenle: Well, Johnny already was a fan of her and her music. Renjun and Jisung really like her, they get along well. Taeyong likes her because she's a big fan of him.

°you guys were already shipped together before your relationship was announced

°you had a collaboration with NCT, making a song with each unit. Sidenote: WayV love you the most.

°people loved the songs but adored the chemistry between you and Chenle when you danced together even more

°at award shows, people always zoom in on him

°there is a clip trending after every award show of him sitting there with a stone cold face until your name gets called out and then, he's smiling with a proud look on his face

°whenever you are on sort of survival variety shows together and you win a challenge or do something that takes a lot of talent, he always looks at the camera, points at you and mouths, 'that's my girl'.

[irene-sadler]

Sir Reynard and the Red Knight

notes: 1. here's a (relatively) short n' interesting discussion of the history of the St. Bartholomew Day Fair in London, which was held roughly annually from sometime in the 12th century to sometime in the 19th century. I casually yanked some ideas (ull find this thing about rabbits casually mentioned with no explanation in the source) from events that took place at this specific festival to apply to my much much smaller Winter Solstice Fair held in Rivia.

translating any irl medieval holiday/fair/feast into a fantasy setting is a lil tricky b/c 95 percent of what happens and what makes them so interesting (to me anyway) is tied up in and totally inseperable from medieval Christian religious expression. however, when a lot of my source material was written (usually several hundred years ago bc public domain ebooks) there were still some weird obviously pre-Christian traditions in common use in parts of England. more on this next chapter b/c some of them are fuckin bizarre and so ofc I ganked them.

----

8.

The next day dawned cold, but the blue cast to the sky promised clear weather. The Queen had long since collected a list of names from a page, and sat scribbling figures and notes in the margins as she considered the best way to arrange forty contestants into equitable matches. Isbel proved unsurprisingly unhelpful; the Baroness, however, offered advice on the matter in a slightly imperious tone:

    “There’s no way to match these names up, by perceived skill, and if you try there will be hurt feelings. Random selection won’t answer, either; my suggestion is to choose from whoever is standing around when we arrive and let them sort themselves out as best they can after.”

    Meve shuffled the papers a moment, admitted to herself that she had no better ideas, and nodded grudgingly.

    “Yes, you’re probably right. First come, first served it is, then. Here, look after these,” she said, handing the papers over to the older woman, “I have to go; the Mayor will be wanting something from me within the hour and I’ve other matters to attend to, first.”

    She left the Baroness and Isbel eyeing each other suspiciously over their breakfasts and strode rapidly away to the stables. Reynard’s horse, dozing alone in his stall, greeted her with polite disinterest; she spotted a light flickering from inside a little storage room nearby, where she found his owner carefully examining his armor under Pug and Gaspar’s vacant stares. Reynard smiled tightly at her, Gaspar glowered from under his unkempt hair, and Pug sketched a lazy gesture resembling a salute.

    “Anything to report?” she asked them all, in a slightly falsely cheerful tone. Reynard glanced at Gaspar, who eyed Pug, who squinted up at the Queen through her single eye.

    “Well, someone came in after midnight rung, but we put an end t’ his fucking skulking, quick,” she explained, then pointed at a few dark spots on the dirt floor. “And you can see the blood right there.”

    “So you can,” Meve said, not at all displeased. “Don’t suppose you managed to get a look at the culprit?”

    Pug shook her head, then, considering a moment, noted, “A tall bastard, whoever. Gaspar got ‘im right in th’ ankle from the shadows.”

    “Tall, with a limp,” the Queen considered.

    Gaspar hesitated, and brushed his hand against his own pox-scarred face, glancing at Pug.

    “Might’ve had a beard, also,” she translated.  “Hard t’ say anything else.”

    “Better than nothing at all to go on. Where’s Gascon?”

    Reynard shook his head. Gaspar glanced at Pug again; she chewed her right thumbnail and shrugged idly.

    “Don’t know,” she said, cooly studying the dried blood on the floor; a breathless page then hustled in, bowed to all present - Pug croaked a laugh at him - and announced that the Mayor requested the Queen’s presence, urgently.

    “What, already?” she asked. “All right; tell him I’ll be along shortly. You two can go as well,” she added, to the brigands, “Thank you for your assistance, and tell the Duke to report to me the moment you next see him.”

    “As for you,” she added quickly to Reynard, as soon as the room cleared out, “In case I don’t see you later - “

    He put his helm down wordlessly, stepped across the few feet between them, and kissed her; she took her time pulling away, despite the city government’s looming crisis, and said, “Good luck, not that you need it; I look forward to your victory.”

    “Yes, thank you,” he said, somewhat embarrassed, “I’ll do my best.”

      An hour later, the event was already underway. The brilliant sun pulled a faint fog from the frozen ground, and flashed on the armor of the first two contestants as they met with a resounding crash.

    “Coll, and Bohault,” Giselle reported; they had put her in charge of keeping track of the course of the jousts, and she accordingly drew a bold check in red ink beside Bohault. The Queen nodded her congratulations to the man, who returned her notice with an answering, professional jerk of his head. The next contestants were familiar, as well, and the third set strangers, not unexpectedly; twenty rounds had to be got through, and some of the names on the list had a distinctly foreign flavor. One such man, called Devyn, provided the judges’ first opportunity to deliberate, as he and John Kimborne knocked each other down in the same moment.

    “Sir Kimborne’s a proper knight, which ought to count for something,” Meve said, “And that sweep with the lance on his opponent’s part was, I believe, not quite legal, which is no doubt why he was unseated.”

    “It’s hardly Devyn’s fault that he’s from Novigrad, which doubtless is why he didn’t know not to do that,” Giselle said, smiling encouragingly at the young man. “Also, I think he is well, you know, handsome, for a foreigner.”

    “Yes, I’m sure you do,” the Baroness said, rolling her eyes. By unspoken consent, she reigned as their chief; accordingly, when she pointed impatiently at the knight, her decision was accepted without further comment and the contest carried on. They made good time under her able command, assisted by the timely appearance of mulled wine and sandwiches at midmorning. The names and men rolled by, ticked off in red; they made it past the unpronounceably named Sicg Sicgurdssen, a group of brothers whose names all began with with same letters, Ethan, who put the third and final of the brothers down and received a brilliant smile from Giselle in reward, and as, the Baroness and Queen grew bored and were chatting idly about the relative merits of different styles of tilting helms, Sir Holt, who won his match easily. The Queen eyed him darkly and then abruptly lost interest in side conversation as Reynard appeared, defeated a man named Hall in a few passes, and departed again. The Baroness accepted the sudden silence with faint amusement.

    “Nolda,” Giselle read, next, “And Sir Eres. That’s the knight, there. Who is Nolda?”

    Meve cracked a surprised, but pleased, smile, pointed across the field, where a lanky woman in well-used armor stood apart from the other contestants and said, pleased, “That is Nolda; she was an Aedirnian defector, fought for us in Angren. I hadn’t known she was still here in Rivia; I thought she’d have gone back home.” The Baroness squinted at the woman, with a thoughtful air. Sir Eres scowled at his opponent, glanced hopefully toward the judges, found no leniency in their stony stares, shut his visor and rode to his place. The match lasted all of ten seconds: Nolda held her lance left-handed, at an odd diagonal angle, and then at the last moment straightened it, smacked her opponent’s spear aside with a sweep of her shield, and knocked him away. The Baroness hummed thoughtfully under her breath.      

    “Unusual tactic, but not, I as far as I know, illegal,” Meve commented. Giselle shrugged and crossed out Sir Eres’ name, as the knight picked himself up and stalked angrily toward the judges.

    “It may not answer a second time, but it certainly took him by surprise,” the Baroness said, agreeably, and added, to the clearly disgruntled man, “What’s the problem?”

    The problem was that Sir Eres was a sore loser, Giselle supposed; Meve privately suspected it had as much to do with Nolda herself than it did with his defeat at her hands, but if he was hoping for sympathy he found none. The Baroness turned him away with a few blunt phrases and the contest continued.

    By noon, they had only three names left. Giselle read them off in a doubtful voice: Brossard, Gaheris, Saban. They sent a page to find out where the absentees had got to, and took a break. Giselle hurried off into the crowd with a promise to return in due time, and Meve and the Baroness settled into a debate of the various methods of arranging the second round and soon arrived at a prospective bracket. The page returned, indicated a short, bearded warrior on a sturdy horse, said, “The dwarf, there, is Saban; as for the Duke, nobody seems to know where he might be found, and the squire Gaheris is injured and can’t fight.”

    “I suppose, under the circumstances, that we could simply advance Saban to the second round,” the Queen remarked, frowning at the news of Gascon’s absence, as Giselle came running, slightly flustered. “You’re late,” she added, to the younger woman. Giselle flushed and looked apologetic.

    “Someone had let a bunch of rabbits out into the street, and a crowd of boys was chasing ‘em,” she explained, and then, spotting something on the field, abandoned the tale and gasped, “Look!”

    Meve turned and smiled as she was finally proved right: a man in black armor, mounted on a black horse, sat at the farther end of the barriers. He slowly pointed his lance at Saban, who turned to stare at the judges, baffled. Meve shrugged at him, which he seemed to take for permission; he pulled his helmet on briskly and kicked his horse toward the appointed starting position without delay.

    Saban rode well, but it was obvious that he was an amateur; the black knight unseated him in their first pass without apparent effort. He stood, collected his lost helmet from the ground, picked a clod of dirt out of the visor, and shrugged pragmatically. Meve squinted at the departing black knight’s back, and said, “Well, that was - quite interesting. On to the next round, I suppose. Who is it, Giselle?”

    It was Bohault and the unfortunate Ethan, who stood no chance against the veteran; he received another, slightly less congratulatory smile from Giselle, who then drew a second mark beside the soldier’s name.

    “So,” Meve said to the Baroness, conversationally, watching the next combat with a fine appearance of attention, “Care to make a prediction on the winner, yet?”

    “Of this match? Sir Brewes,” the older woman replied promptly; the knight in question was unseated by his opponent a half minute later. Meve smiled smugly at the winner.

    “Nolda seems to be doing well for herself, doesn’t she? - but I meant overall, in general.”

    “Ah. Well, Sir Odo, Sir Kimborne, perhaps Sir Holt if should he get lucky with his matchups -”

    “What about that black knight?”

    “Oh, him? Well, it’s hard to say, for sure.”

    The conversation paused again as Count Odo made his second appearance, against Sicg, the knight from Skellige. The Count won his second match far more quickly than he had his first. Meve, knowing from long experience that he had been studying the competition for most of the last round, to prepare himself, was unsurprised.

    “Although,” the Baroness continued thoughtfully, as he rode away, “I have seen a black knight fight at a recent tourney, I can’t say as it’s the same one who’s here today. Armor can be changed, but this one doesn’t seem to have the same style, at all. However, he does seem familiar, but they all do after near thirty-five years of watching them in tournaments. Almost all, at least.”

    Meve was growing used to the older woman’s subtle hints, and therefore was sure she’d caught a significant note in her comments. She thought back to the tournament, suddenly recalled the Baroness’s parting behavior with a frown, and re-evaluated her previous assumption: perhaps, after all, there was no confusion about herself and Gascon, and - she realized with mild annoyance - the Baroness had figured out the true reason for her absences, one way or another, but said nothing about it at the time. The same gleam of a secret joke was in the other woman’s eye when she looked away from the field, where Sir Holt was riding away from yet another victory. Meve stared at her, momentarily at a loss. The Baroness smiled slightly and looked back to the lists.

    “So,” the Queen asked, deciding it was best to not to inquire further, “Who do you think it could be, this time?”

    “I’m not sure; I’ll need more time to consider the matter,” the Baroness said, as the black knight returned, last of the pack again, and lined up against Sir Orlac, who had been lingering about as if waiting for him.

    “They’ve fought before,” Meve said, remembering suddenly. “Sir Orlac received an unexpected cold bath, as I recall.”

    Sir Orlac took his second defeat and stood up, swearing loudly at the black knight’s back.

    “At least he didn’t get wet, this time,” she added.

    “What a fall,” Giselle said, “Do you think he’s hurt?”

    The knight was limping slightly, but Meve shrugged dismissively and said, “Oh, no. He’ll be fine. Anyway, who do we have left?”

    Giselle held up the list; the Queen glanced at the six names remaining, nodded, and signaled to the herald.

      “This is going well,” she reflected, after watching Nolda defeat Bohault, to acclaim from the growing audience. “Perhaps I should do it again, next year, but with fewer participants, so it doesn’t take all day.”

    “Hm,” the Baroness said noncommittally, and then, during the next fight, “I do believe I like Sir Kimborne’s chances to win out; what do you think, young lady?”

    Giselle considered.

    “Well, the black knight’s very mysterious; it would be interesting if he won, like a ballad.”

    Nobody bothered to ask Meve for her opinion, but she took no notice, as she was closely watching the knight in question and Sir Holt ride onto the field. The black knight sat dead still on the nearer side, but the red knight passed him and approached the judges, scowling. The Baroness addressed him, in a tone that rivaled Meve’s for arrogance:

    “What’s th’ issue, sir?”

    “I don’t want to fight this - this fellow,” he said, sulkily. “It ain’t proper.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “Well, for one, he might not even be a knight; it could be anyone under all that armor - any man at all, or a woman, even, for that matter.”

    “Heard this sort o’ thing before, a hundred time,” Giselle said quietly to Meve, “He’s chicken.”

    “I heard that,” the knight growled. Giselle blinked innocently at him.

    “Well, your other option is Sir Kimborne,” the Baroness said, growing slightly annoyed. Sir Holt opened his mouth, then closed it with an uneasy frown, obviously unsatisfied by the alternative offer.

    “Didn’t this same knight defeat you, a month or two ago? I would think you’d want to avenge your loss,” the Queen noted, idly. He scowled at the reminder, clearly inclined to argue further. The Baroness turned a hostile glare on him; he thought better of it and rode away, muttering, to take his place by the barricade.

    “What an ass,” Meve said.

    The knights completed a pass, to no avail on either side.

    “Didn’t your man Odo duel him, lately?” the Baroness said. “Can’t say I blame him, now, though I thought his behavior uncharacteristically impulsive at the time. Watch and see if the red knight don’t overcommit on this next run.”

    He did, badly; instead of his usual hesitation, he drove in a rush. Meve suspected he had lost his temper. The black knight took the attack on his shield and turned it away.

    “Yes, well, next time I’ll leave you to deal with him instead,” Meve remarked. “It seems to be more effective.”

    Sir Holt took his third run far more cautiously; his usual hesitation returned, and Meve glanced downward to hide a malicious smile as the black knight took advantage, aimed true, and knocked his opponent down hard.

    “I have five sons,” the Baroness replied, flatly. “Th’ egos of these fool knights can’t compare.”

    Gaheris limped heavily onto the field and collected Sir Holt; Meve looked from him to the black knight, who appeared to be watching the squire closely, a slight frown crossing her face. Giselle, meanwhile, made a bold red mark through the loser’s name and said, “It’s Sir Odo and Sir Kimborne, now.”

    It was a fight that the Baroness watched approvingly, making comments to Giselle, as Meve was, again, distinctly uninterested in conversation. The Count finally wore his opponent down from sheer weariness after half a dozen passes, drawing a pleased smile from the Queen. They then broke off for ten minutes, reckoning it was only fair to let their last three knights have a rest before the end. The judges spent the time in conference, deciding how to arrange their semi-finals; the no-shows had ruined their early arrangements, leaving them with an odd number of contestants. The Baroness eventually ruled that Sir Odo, being the senior knight, should be given a free round, and Nolda and the stranger would go against each other, as a result. Meve squinted at her.

    “Have you really not figured the black knight out, yet?”

    “Oh,” she said, mysteriously, “I think that by the time we’re done, we’ll know who he is, one way or another.”

      The black knight, however, did not appear when summoned along with the other two, leaving Nolda sitting alone at the barricades. Reynard, after a while, offered to go against her, on the chance that the third contestant would turn up very late to fight the last match; Nolda agreed, somewhat reluctantly. The Baroness overruled them, claiming that there was no knowing whether their third party would actually appear. The contestants therefore settled in to wait, Reynard with a distant frown and Nolda looking moderately suspicious of the sudden delay. The crowd chattered in the background, bored and uncertain of the future prospects for its entertainment.

    “How long are we going to wait?” Giselle asked, five minutes later; the black knight had failed to show.

    “Damn him,” Meve snarled quietly, “I planned this blasted event to flush him out, and he still somehow slipped away through my fingers. What now?”

    Giselle stared at her; the Baroness sighed and said, “Well, th’ only thing we can do is declare the match forfeit; Nolda will just have to fight Sir Odo, gods help her.”

    The contestants were summoned and the plan explained to them. Nolda did not seem overly relieved at being spared the black knight, probably due to being confronted with the Count as a result. He himself appeared mildly perturbed by the unusual situation, glanced at Meve’s tense smile, and said nothing.

    “I don’t know as it’s necessary that the Count should go against me now,” Nolda said doubtfully, “To tell the truth, I’m only here because Captain Bohault - he’s my husband - said could do better than me at this game, which I’ve proved he can’t.”

    “That you have,” the Queen said, mildly amused despite herself, “But the contest has to be won by someone. If you’re intending to spare Sir Reynard a fall on account of his age, I assure you there’s no need.”

    Nolda, who appeared to be roughly the same age as the knight, frowned, apparently unsure whether the Queen was joking. Sir Reynard’s expression turned mildly pained, but he did not roll his eyes at her.

    “I have no objections,” he said, stiffly. Nolda shrugged and said, “Well, I’m game, then.”

    “Good,” the Baroness said, “We’ll start in twenty minutes.”

    The combatants rode down to opposite sides of the field, where Reynard sat on his horse, exchanging a few words with his squire. Nolda stood at her horse’s head, deep in conversation with Bohault; the occasional audible phrase and the cavalryman’s complicated hand gestures suggested a strategy session was underway. Meve struggled to appear neutral, if she couldn’t manage anything else, despite her continued irritation at the black knight’s disappearance. The effort became supremely more difficult as, from behind and under the stands, a familiar voice whispered, “Meve! I mean, Your Majesty! I need t’ talk to you.”

    She turned, slowly, forced a casual tone, and said, “Ah, Duke Brossard. I’m glad you’ve decided to join us at last.”

[alottanothing]

Left to Ruin: Chapter Two

Summary: The young prince meets a servant girl called Nouke. The two become best friends, spending many days in the West Garden. As Ahkmenrah grows older, he learns that he must sacrifice his time with his friend to learn the lessons his father has to teach him. Responsibilities shift and Ahk and Nouke’s friendship is tested.

Previous Chapters

Word Count: 5939   

Warnings: none      

Tag List: @xmxisxforxmaybe​, @r-ahh-mi​, @theultraviolencefan​, @hah0106​, @rami-malek-trash​, @diasimar​, @sherlollydramoine​, @flipper-kisses​, @ivy-miranda-2390​, @txmel​, @sunkissedmikky​, @concentratedsassandcandy​, @babyalienfairy​ (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: I’m so SO glad y’all are enjoying this so far! Thanks a million for the likes, the reblogs, the comments and the gif responses! They make me smile!! 🥰 Again, as a disclaimer, I am not an ancient Egyptian expert and google only knows so much. So yeah, I took so historical liberties while writing this to make my life easier, but tried to keep it as “authentic” as possible

In the westernmost part of the palace was a garden, small in comparison to the grand courtyards were the king and queen hosted festivals throughout the year, but lusher and inherently more magical by far. On every side, the green paradise was surrounded by sturdy walls of sand-colored stone, apart from the open corridor that led back into the palace. The majority of those protective walls sat hidden by abundant foliage; lilies and shrubs and trees that fostered the illusion of no barriers at all.

At the center of the garden was a fountain with wide ledges perfect to sit and marvel at the prisms that danced across the surface of the water where lily pads floated. The air was always fragrant. Jasmine and lotus bloomed in abundance; their sweet perfume coupled with the fresh air created a welcomed reprieve from the scent of torch fire and papyrus that permeated the palace corridors. Beds of grass grew between the footstones and pathways while large palm trees sprung from the earth; their fanned leaves offering shade for the hottest afternoons. Within those walls, amid the green and vibrant blossoms, Shepseheret watched each of her children grow and play for many years.

That glittering, private oasis- nestled in a palace of gold, was Ahkmenrah’s favorite place in the world. Fore in that garden everything was soft and whimsical unlike the stone walls he called home. And in the shining green gem of a garden, the young prince met Anuksamun.

She was his age, with long wavy hair and skin a tone or two darker than his own. Her eyes were brown, but they sparkled like amber in the sunlight--not that Ahkmenrah paid much attention to such things at the age of six. It wasn't for many years that those flakes of gold would make his heart flutter.

Anuksamun was the daughter of Maketaten: the queen’s maidservant and dear friend. Her father, Ramentukah was a soldier in the pharaoh’s army. The three of them lived humbly in the palace with many of the other servants--happy for the shelter the king and queen provided in return for their service and loyalty. It never occurred to Ahkmenrah that he was (as some would claim) better than his friend; all he knew was that she loved the West Garden just as much as he did.

Every evening, Ahkmenrah would gleefully follow his mother and baby sister to the garden, excited to see his friend. The queen and her maidservant would lounge in one of the patches of grass or on the edge of the fountain watching their children play; ducking in and out of the foliage or splashing in the cool waters of the central pool when the desert heat was significantly stifling.

Ahkmenrah never felt like a prince when he was chasing after his friend, giggling as the fresh air swept through his curls as he ran. She only ever called him “Ahk”; never once did she speak of him with the title of “my prince” like so many others. He loved that shortened version of his name. Every time she called for him; it made him smile, and in return, he called her Nouke--a name that found her smiling back at him just as widely.

While the sun was high overhead, Ahkmenrah was with his father, learning what it meant to rule a vast empire. Those mornings and afternoons never lent the same joy he found in the evenings with Nouke in the garden. Nevertheless, the prince cherished the teachings his father gifted unto him. He felt a sense of pride when he stood at his father’s side during civil meetings in the throne room and council meetings. Every aspect was enthralling for his young mind.

The older Ahkmenrah grew, the more he understood and admired the way his father ruled. Merenkahre was firm when he had to be but often kind when the circumstances could warrant gentleness. The respect he bestowed upon his subjects and advisors never went unreciprocated, and Ahkmenrah noted it all; filing it away safely in his mind, so he could remember in the future. He yearned to show the same devotion and compassion to the people of Egypt when it was his turn to wear the crown. The prince learned quickly and eagerly.

No matter how old he grew, or how long his lessons would take, Ahkmenrah would always return to the West Garden. The moment his father’s teaching would come to a close, the prince would thank him for his wisdom and guidance then run through the halls until he was encompassed in the magic of the lush green, and reunited with his favorite person in all the palace.

Since meeting Nouke, Ahkmenrah always missed her. Her spirit matched his own: that unwavering need for adventure. Nouke was warm like the sun but always changing like the moon; she constantly kept him guessing, and it thrilled him. Every game was her idea, and Ahkmenrah never failed to follow her lead- whatever it may be. The whole of his childhood was written within the limits of that garden, and when he was with Nouke, he wasn’t a prince of Egypt--shackled from birth to his duty. He was just Ahk; no more, no less.

For six years that was the routine Ahkmenrah was used to: days with his father and evenings with his friend. However, as they got older, a piece of him came to realize that before long, their adventures in the serenity of the garden would come to an end. By the time he was twelve, most of his lessons ate into the hours the prince was used to spending with Nouke. It made him sad to think of her alone in their garden with no one to keep her company, but a large part of him understood how important it was to learn his father’s trade. He could only hope that she understood too.

It was exceptionally hot the afternoon Ahkmenrah followed his father out of the palace and into the training yards located on the grounds. He’d often heard his brother speak of the open field where the pharaoh’s soldiers trained along with the Medjay. It was a new sight and Ahkmenrah’s hunger for adventure lent him attentive eyes. Men and boys, most around his age, were practicing with all manners of weapons; spears, bows, and the khopesh. Ahkmenrah watched them all, wondering why his father had brought him to such a place.

“Three times a week, we will be meeting here so that you may learn to defend yourself,” his father noted as though he had heard his son’s thoughts.

Merenkahre stopped a good distance away from the other sparing soldiers and turned to face his son. Kamuzu stood at his side, holding the same stoic expression that Ahkmenrah could never really make heads or tails of. The Medjay deftly removed the khopesh from its place on his hip and offered it wordlessly to the prince. Ahkmenrah’s brows furrowed and he blinked at the curved blade apprehensively, confused as to how this lesson applied to being king.

“Take it,” his father encouraged, easily drawing his own matching weapon. “Test its weight.”

Ahkmenrah bit his lip, eyeing the khopesh wearily a moment more before obeying. A gasp escaped his lungs in mild shock when the heavy weapon fell from his hands, and into the dirt--it was much heavier than he had thought. Quickly, he retrieved the blade and held it with a firm, two-handed grip, looking sheepishly back to his father. The ghost of a smile played around Merenkahre’s lips, which put Ahkmenrah more at ease.

“Test its weight,” he said again, slowly gliding his own blade through the air with one hand.

Ahkmenrah mimicked the movements as best he could; the weapons cumbersome weight almost too difficult for him to manage properly.

“Very good,” Merenkahre grinned.

“Am I going to learn everything as Kahmunrah has?” Ahkmenrah asked, suddenly more interested to learn.

His older brother only liked weapons and fighting; he found no beauty in gardens or shared the young princes' sense of adventure. Thus, Ahkmenrah knew; Kah never wanted to be the big brother he wanted. But if he learned to fight, maybe he would like him more--the prince hoped so anyway.

A slight frown tinted the pharaoh’s expression, but he quickly hid it. “To a degree, I will teach you bow and spear and khopesh until you are comfortable enough with each.”

“Oh,” Ahk said, slightly disappointed. Kah only liked people who were as skilled as he was. “Okay.”

Ahkmenrah followed his father’s guidance, swinging the blade how he was instructed in repetitive motions, each one faster than the last until the weapon no longer felt so clumsy in his hands.

It was weeks before he was truly at ease with any kind of weapon in his hand. Still, he knew he would never harbor the same joy his brother seemed to when it came to such things.

“Am I going to learn how to strategize war next?” Ahkmenrah asked idly after a long day in the training yard.

His muscles ached as he walked back to the palace alongside his father and Kamuzu. Merenkahre didn’t answer right away, taking his time to think as his features grew pensive, causing Ahkmenrah to wonder what it was about his question that warranted such careful study.

“Your Consul of Montu will be responsible for such dealings,” Merenkahre decided, finally. “You must trust his word, should a time ever come that you need such knowledge."

That made sense, but Ahkmenrah pressed anyway, “but didn’t you know how to--”

“I learned because my father needed men to fight in wars he wanted no part of,” Meren explained sternly. “Do you plan to seek out war during your reign?”

Ahkmenrah shook his head, folding under his father’s unusually intense gaze, “No.”

“Then what you have learned will suffice,” the pharaoh’s expression lightened as they neared the palace. “We are done for today. Your mother tells me you are missing a friend of yours--go.”

Ahkmenrah’s face lit up, all previous thought of war and fighting long behind him. He quickly thanked his father and took off running.

The sun had only begun to sink into the distant horizon when Ahkmenrah made it to his favorite garden. He'd only stopped on his journey long enough to scrounge up a snack that he could share. As a servant, Nouke and her family were given small rations and often went hungry--a thought the prince hated. It only took her offhandedly mentioning she’d gone without one day for Ahkmenrah to make a habit of bringing something from his own, abundant supply. She had refused the first time, too proud it seemed to want his help; it was only when he offered to share that Nouke would accept his offerings. He would purposely eat slower, letting her take as much as she needed, and he would smile; happy to have helped his friend.

Nouke sat on the edge of the shallow pool; her dark hair pulled into a loose braid- the slightly darker tan pigment of her skin glowing in Ra’ s golden rays. Her face was turned away, eyes fixated on the lily pad she glided over the water's surface in absent motions. Even from a distance, and without the benefit of seeing her face, Ahkmenrah could tell a sadness had taken root in her. Something even the magic of their treasured garden could not properly deter. How long had it been since he had seen her? Days? Weeks? Much too long.

Her somber aura shifted however when Nouke caught sight of him with an idle glance. A gasp sounded on a quick inhale when her eyes met his--the lily pad forgotten. All of the gloom that had been constricting her spirit no longer bound her. She dazzled him with a smile that matched the sparkle in her eyes, and when she ran to greet him, she did so on fumbling feet, excitement quickening her gait to nearly a fault. Catching the blunder painted a grin onto the prince's lips as his pace hastened too, eager to be near her.

“Ahk!” Nouke’s honey-sweet tone was like a song to his ears after weeks of nothing but his father’s gruff voice in his head. 

The sound alone was enough to pull his smile tighter and prompt his heart to beat more fervently (for whatever reason). Unceremoniously, she threw her arms around his shoulders, enveloping him with a friendly embrace, with sufficient force to almost send Ahkmenrah stumbling backward.

“I thought maybe you’d forgotten me.”

“Never,” he assured her, returning her hug with just as much warmth.

She was smiling even brighter than before when they pulled apart, her eyes meeting his gladly.

“Sorry I’ve been away so long,” Ahk said, brandishing a peace offering: a linen-wrapped bundle of fresh dates and figs to share.

She glanced at the proffered fruit, then back to him with silent rejoice before tugging him by the arm across the garden to one of the shady patches of grass. She gave his arm another yank, tugging him down to sit beside her.  The cool patch of grass was a welcome contrast to the hours he spent under the sun in the training yard. He sat with his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his hands relishing in the soft textures and the company of his friend. Nouke waited patiently for him to pass her a portion of the food he had brought--like usual--and together they ate in content silence.

“I missed you,” Nouke said suddenly, in a rather sheepish tone that was unbefitting of her usual ebullient demeanor.

When the prince chanced to meet her gaze, he found she had spoken more to her food than to him, still, he smiled. He was so used to her exuberance, but he liked this timorous side of her as well.

“I missed you too,” Ahk said, sliding her the last two dates.

He could have eaten them easily, having worked up an apatite swinging a blade around the better part of an afternoon, but he had the luxury of ample meals whenever he called for one, unlike her.

The shy exterior melted into the lively attitude he was accustomed to, which had always lent a fullness inside of him that he couldn’t quite place. Nouke was the only person he knew to incite such a feeling.

“What is it your father’s been teaching you?” she asked, noshing on the last piece of fruit.

A tiny frown worked onto Ahk’s features, the shift in the curve of his mouth enough to elicit a slight ache in the muscles of his face. Nouke had always been curious about his lessons, and usually, he was happy to tell her the wisdom his father offered. However, after so much time away, Ahk didn’t want to discuss topics that had been pounded into his brain since he was six.

Ahkmenrah pulled absently at the green blades, and bit his bottom lip as he shrugged, “A lot of the same……just more.”

He sighed and when he caught her thin frown, he mustered a smile for her benefit, not wanting to burden her with his own troubles. It wasn’t right for him to complain, especially to her.

“He has been teaching me how to fight like Kahmunrah.”

“Oh?” she frowned, more out of wariness than sadness, but only briefly. “That must be fun. Is your brother helping?”

Ahk shook his head, “No.”

When he told his big brother that he was learning to fight, Ahkmenrah hoped it would spark some sort of kinship between them--a shared interest. Even a hint of intrigue would have been something. Instead, Kah had scoffed and pushed him out of his way. He didn’t understand why his brother treated him so.

“Sometimes I wish my father would make Kahmunrah pharaoh instead of me.”

Nouke glanced at him, surprise pressing a furrow onto her brow, “Why?”

Ahk shrugged, “I don’t want to spend my whole life in a palace. Kah isn’t going to be pharaoh, and he has traveled and seen so many places. I want to see them too.”

Nouke grew quiet, and he watched her thoughts manifest in waves of her pensive expressions, until a smile steadily unfurled across her features. Ahk smiled too, a reflex reaction to seeing her face light up with restored spirit.

“I think I know a way you can have a little adventure,” she told him before he could ask what had prompted her grin.

When she didn’t impart more of an explanation, intrigue contorted the prince’s face, his question written in the hook of his brow. Without a word, she tugged him off the cushion of grass and to his feet; he barely had time to find his footing before she was yanking him deeper into the garden. Ahkmenrah knew better than to ask where it was she was taking him; he followed her lead and reveled in the surge of thrill the mystery brought.

Nouke led him to the westernmost edges of the garden, skillfully cutting through the dense foliage that hid the towering wall until they were in the small space between the green brush and sand-colored stones. She stood for a moment, her hand still gripping his as she studied the bricks carefully.

“Nouke?” the prince asked, his eyes bouncing between her and the wall, then back to her.

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she surrendered his grasp and began pushing gently on individual stones, causing Ahk’s confusion to grow. He was about to ask her again when one of the bricks fell loose to the other side with a quiet thud.

“Found it!” Nouke beamed proudly.

Ahk’s mouth hung agape in awe, blinking as she pushed more of the bricks free until the breach was large enough to crawl through.

“How…?” 

“I had a lot of time to explore when you stopped visiting,” she explained with a shrug.

Ahk frowned, “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay. Now are you gonna follow me on an adventure or stay in these walls?”

She was already climbing through the opening with ease as she spoke. The prince bit his lip as he smiled and nodded. His heart was pounding and his whole body tingled with excitement; of course, he was going to follow his friend on an adventure--he would follow her anywhere.

“Kamuzu!” Ahk shouted, knowing it would be better to have someone to watch out for them than not.

“No,” Nouke frowned, gazing at him with concern from the other side of the wall.

“It’s okay, he won’t tell anyone where we go. He'll just protect us,” he promised with a grin and deftly climbed through.

The sensation of hot sand beneath his feet for the first time was one the prince would never forget; it’s soft but coarse texture so alien but grand. Hundreds of tiny grains shifted and moved heedlessly around his toes--free--like he suddenly was. Ahk had only ever known the packed dirt of the training yard and the hard stone corridors of the palace. Sand was new, and it pulled a tight smile onto his lips.

Directly on the other side of the garden wall was a stretch of rural landscape that grew more arid the further west he looked beyond the Nile. All of it open and dotted with sparse, dried foliage: land that had yet to be peppered with stone structures. Along the banks of the mighty river green sprouted creating a striking contrast to the surrounding dry sands. It was like stepping from one magical garden into another, but this one had no walls.

Something ethereal washed over Ahkmenrah as he took in the grandeur of it all; the sights and smells and the horizon stretching out endlessly with nothing to keep him from running to where the sun was sinking into it. Everything he knew was encased in stone walls. It would have been so easy to venture into that vast countryside, but that sense of duty, that had been all but bred into him, kept him where he stood--yearning.

Nouke was already strolling along the riverbank, free of the yoke of responsibility. He was envious, to a degree, but not enough to hinder the joy he felt seeing her so uninhibited wading in the waters of the Nile. His feet sank into the sands as he stood watching her, finding the grains growing colder the deeper he rooted. Ahk wanted to follow her; he found himself glancing over his shoulder to the hole he had crawled out of.

Kamuzu managed to fit through and placed himself at the prince’s side, wearing the same stoical expression he always did.

“My father wouldn’t approve of me being outside the walls like this,” Ahk mused.

Kamuzu’s austere features softened, and one side of his mouth quirked into a slight smile, “Then we simply won’t tell him.”

With a nodding gesture, the Medjay encouraged the prince to join his friend. It was enough permission to chase away the invisible tether keeping his feet from moving, and with a flash of white teeth, Ahkmenrah grinned and ran to catch up with Nouke.

“Come feel the water, Ahk!” Nouke said, pulling him into the steadily flowing current of the Nile.

The water was up to their knees, and the cool rush around his legs was akin to the sand under his feet. The undeniable essence of life flowed around him, invigorating his senses and tingled every nerve in his body. The stagnant water in the pool of his garden would never compare to the constantly moving surge of the Nile. Ahk paid no attention to how wet his fine linen garments became; he wanted to stand there forever, feet buried in the soft river bed, water flowing freely around him as the sun warmed his shoulders. Nouke, however, took his hand and pulled him along with the current. The further from the palace they strode the less weight Ahkmenrah felt on his shoulders. There, he was just Ahk, and that was enough for him.

That stretch of bank along the mighty river became their second favorite place to venture. Many evenings that followed, Nouke and Ahk would tuck themselves away in their new oasis, a secret hideaway that allowed the masks of their reality to fall, letting them each be more and less than who they were meant to be.

*** 

Like the ever-changing waters of the Nile and the shifting desert's sand, the passage of time reshaped even the closest of paths. Responsibilities grew more significant as they grew older; placing a very irrefutable wedge between Ahkmenrah and his friend from the garden. Though they oft fought it.

At thirteen, Nouke was no longer simply a child of a maidservant, but a servant herself. She was expected to see to many chores at any hour, keeping her from the garden of her youth. As for the prince, his time of wistful adventure ran out too; Ahkmenrah was rarely out of his father’s sight. Merenkahre’s lessons shifted into actions. The pharaoh had taken to surrendering his seat on the throne or at the council, allowing the prince a taste of the future that awaited him.

The first time his father sprung such a notion onto his shoulders, Ahkmenrah was sure his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. Every eye was on him, bearing down with a scrutiny that made his throat dry, and his palms sweat. He knew it was a test, one that he had been studying for most of his life. However, despite the years of shadowing his father’s every move, hearing his every command and testament, Ahkmenrah felt entirely out of his element. All his lessons were lost somewhere in the haze of his mind, and he desperately scrambled to recall what he had stored away. The only comfort was his father at his side.

Meren stood, mostly in silence, watching, lending quiet guidance, and solidarity. Even so, Ahkmenrah spent his first time as a ruler, with a white-knuckled grip to the armrest’s of the throne to keep his hands from shaking. That first time was the hardest. In the tests that followed, however, Ahkmenrah's confidence built more and more until he could present himself with the same regality of his father.

After a month of afternoons seeing to civil matters and addressing the council like a king, Ahkmenrah had never been more comfortable with the path the gods had laid before him. However, despite the comfort he felt, the notion of being pharaoh--and not just playing at it--had not yet taken hold. In his mind, he still had much to learn, but when his father summoned him to an early council meeting to discuss how much he'd learned in such a short amount of time; Ahkmenrah knew, his time as ruler was fast approaching.

That particular council meeting began like any other. Merenkahre sat at his normal seat at the head of the table while Ahkmenrah sat attentively next to his brother a few seats away. Most of the talk was the usual chatter: matters that ranged from trivial to pressing. Each warranted equal amounts of discussion regardless of how frivolous--a lesson Ahk learned early much to his childish frustration. When all other affairs had been seen to properly, Merenkahre stood, causing a hush to befall the room.

“My friends, there is but one matter remaining that I wish to discuss,” the pharaoh’s line of sight moved to his youngest son, and Ahk shifted, suddenly nervous. “I have been blessed in my time as pharaoh, and it is my wish that the same will be for the pharaoh who follows me.”

Merenkahre smiled proudly upon Ahkmenrah and gestured for the other men to follow his gaze. “As you are all aware, it was my intention to crown Ahkmenrah during his fifteenth year. But, during these past few weeks, he has shown wisdom beyond his years, and aptitude that far surpassed mine at his age.”

Ahkmenrah’s stomach twisted into a knot, and his heart was beating rapidly. Still, the prince held onto his composure, listening to his father, while sneaking side glances to Kahmunrah--seeing his indifferent expression meld into a disapproving sneer.

“Thus, I feel it is time, that I step aside and let Ahkmenrah take his place among Egypt's mighty pharaohs.” Merenkahre finished, holding his prideful simper.

A commotion broke out within the chamber as advisors sang praise to the pharaoh’s wisdom, all but one. Kahmunrah alone slouched into his chair, pouting, while the room congratulated the younger prince on his accomplishment. A lump grew in the back of Ahkmenrah’s throat; a cumulation of nerves, excitement, and a little guilt. No one had told Kahmunrah that he was never going to wear the crown, he figured it out on his own. And the bitterness it caused him had never been more palpable than in that moment.

Ahk swallowed that psychological clod in his throat before it grew large enough to choke him, and let his focus fall inward. A part of him considered forfeiting the crown with the demand that it be given to Kah so Ahkmenrah could spend his days exploring with Nouke. However, Ahkmenrah had endured years of teachings, and he wasn’t about to let his father’s teachings be for not. He didn’t want to let his father down, or his people. The prince wanted to be king, just not so soon.

“I’m not entirely sure he is prepared to rule, father,” Kahmunrah noted with an insouciant shrug.

Merenkahre shot his eldest son a vehement glare.

Kah raised his open palms as a sign of surrender, “I assure you; my reasoning does not come from my own desire to rule--”

“Then where?” Meren demanded.

“Your youngest son may possess the mind of a great ruler, but how can he rule the country if he does not know the country?”

The pharaoh’s intense leer waned as he considered Kah’s words thoroughly.

“I have seen much of this land,” Kah boasted. “The pyramids, where the Nile bleeds into the sea--I understand Egypt and her people. Ahkmenrah understands little more than the palace walls.”

The pensive expression on the pharaoh’s face melded back into a heavy suspicious leer.

“Are you suggesting that I crown you because you have seen all of these things?”

Kah’s jaw clenched as frustration strained his features, obviously upset his father gauged him with such mistrust. Nevertheless, Kahmunrah kept his tone even when he spoke his reply.

“My travels hardly give me merit to rule, father. I am simply suggesting the boy may appreciate the land and the people more if he sees them for himself.”

“Your son makes a fair point, my king,” one of the advisors noted.

“Yes,” another agreed. 

“And had you not seen much of the land and your people by the time you came to rule as well, father?” Kah added.

The pharaoh grew quiet again, rubbing his chin as he pondered. Ahk, however, sat, without finding words to speak, not entirely sure what was going to happen. It was rare Kah offered a suggestion that did not somehow benefit himself--Meren and Ahkmenrah knew that, which made the entire notion somewhat suspicious.

“And I suppose you want me to leave you in command while I am away with your brother?" Merenkahre tested, eyes growing narrow again.

Kah’s lips pressed into a firm line, his irritation becoming more difficult for him to stifle.

“You are the pharaoh, father. You will put into command whoever you think worthy,” his caustic tone matched his glance as he looked to Ahkmenrah and back to the pharaoh. “Just as you have always done.”

Ahk let his focus fall to the wood grain of the table in front of him, sinking lower in his chair, feeling Kah’s cold leer like daggers piercing his skin. He hated feeling guilty for something that was not completely his fault.

“Very well,” Merenkahre said finally. “I will think on this matter for a day, but it is likely the young prince, and I will soon be charting a course along the Nile.”

As the council adjourned, the apprehension that had been gnawing and tightening the knots in Ahkmenrah’s stomach slowly began to shift into something akin to excitement. Several of the advisors lingered, speaking to his father and brother about potential places to venture, but the prince didn’t stick around to learn where it was he and his father may be going. He liked the surprise.

It was early in the day, and he was sure there were to be more lessons awaiting him, but Ahkmenrah excused himself without a word, wanting nothing more at that moment then to share the good news with his best friend.

He went to their garden first in search of Nouke, but apart from the colorful birds, flitting throughout the greenery, it was empty. Curiosity pulled him deeper into the garden however, when his eyes scanned the furthest line of foliage, knowing the secret passage hidden behind the bushes. But, all the stones were as they should be; she was somewhere in the palace, and while a frown threatened to curl his lips downward, Akh would not let his excitement be hindered.

The prince wandered the grounds the better part of an hour before he found her among a group of maidservants, hanging washed linens to dry in the sunny courtyard. Immediately, Ahk's heart fluttered and beat faster and his smile spread across his face with tingling fervor. A chorus of surprised gasps echoed as he cut through the gathered women without ceremony. Some dropped to their knees while others bowed their heads respectfully, and all of them greeted him with a hushed “my, prince.” Nouke, however, beamed; giving him no such formal greeting. When Ahk took her hand, another gasp filled the open air of the courtyard, and the prince almost rolled his eyes at the drama of it all. Nouke didn’t ask when he whisked her away from her chores on hurried feet, she just laughed and held on to his hand like she would follow him wherever he wanted to take her.

Ahkmenrah was out of breath when he finally sat them down on the edge of the fountain in their garden. Nouke eyed him with amused confusion, waiting for his explanation with a soft smile painted on her lips.

“I have…to tell you…something…fantastic,” Ahk husked out between labored breaths.

Her dark eyes lit up, teaming with inquiry and that spirit he so admired. He took another moment or two to settle his breathing before he spoke.

“My father is going to take me on a trip to see the cities and landmarks of Egypt!” he was only vaguely aware of how fast he was talking; his excitement made it difficult for him not to. “It was Kah’s idea--he said a king should know his people. My father is going to make his ruling tomorrow and well…if he decides we are going; I'm going to ask that you come too.”

When he’d finished, Nouke’s excitement did not match his own, and that was enough to impede the joy he felt. She wasn’t even truly looking at him; her spirit dulled as she drew into her own thoughts.

“Nouke?” he asked gently, trying desperately to read her doleful aura.

She shook her head as her entire frame wilted, “I can’t go with you.”

Ahkmenrah’s face fell, and he met her sad eyes in silent question.

“I wish I could, Ahk. But I’m a servant. You're a prince. Your father would never allow someone like me to go with you.”

She was right. Servants were not companions to princes. Nouke to him, however, was so much more than a servant, she was his friend; she always would be no matter her station. His father would not understand that though, and the notion yanked ravenously on his heartstrings. All at once, the idea of adventuring lost its luster if he couldn’t share those experiences with her; and for a second time, he considered giving up the crown.

“I look forward to the stories you’ll bring back,” she said casting him a smile he knew was for his benefit and nothing more. “Promise you will tell me everything as soon as you return.”

Ahkmenrah nodded, sadness in his tone, “I promise.”

It fell quiet in the garden for a long time, the only sound coming from the rustling leaves caught in the desert breeze and the songbirds that played among them. Ahk’s eyes followed their sound, envying the freedom their wings granted them; with a few flaps, they could soar miles away.

“I have to get back to work,” Nouke murmured, sounding as though she didn’t want to leave him.

She gave him another rueful smile, and he did his best to match it.

“My father is probably looking for me,” he said, also not wanting to leave.

Before he turned to say his good-bye, Nouke pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. Pink tinted her features and she smiled again, that time not quite as sad.

“Have fun on your adventure, Ahk.”

The prince watched her go, his fingers caressing the spot where she had so brazenly kissed him, feeling utterly torn. Ahkmenrah yearned to see Egypt’s centuries-old monuments and cultures, but part of him wished to stay in the palace forever where Nouke was. Surely a pharaoh who could do as he pleased could remain friends with a servant. The aching knot in his stomach, however, told him such a notion was not going to be so easy.

Next Chapter-> Chapter Three: Across the Sands

[ehrhys]

The Phoenix Court: Ch 1

Dramione Medieval Fantasy AU

Rating: M for later chapters

Summary:

A long standing tradition in the kingdom of Alban is for royal heirs to be chosen from amongst the Alban noble houses. Presumptive heirs are fostered by the king at his court and the heir is chosen at the formal event, the Declaration. Two rival princes vie for the throne, and a young woman arrives at court to seek knowledge. Will ambitions be realized and love grow while enemy kingdoms and civil war threaten to tear the kingdom of Alban apart? 

When Hermione’s father is given the position of advisor to King Albus Dumbledore, the Grangers come to court. Hermione hopes to find a teacher to help her master the magical arts, but she must balance her dreams with the ambitions her family has for her. 

Prince Draco hopes to become the heir to Alban’s royal house and spends his time honing himself to become the perfect successor to the throne. Familial pressure and his own ambitions drive himself to succeed in The Declaration, but one obstacle stands in his way, his rival Prince Harry.

LINKS: FF.NET & AO3

“Hermione, sweeting, stop fussing with your skirt! You’re going to wrinkle your dress!” Lady Granger said. Hermione’s mother swatted at her daughter’s hands in impatience. “We have finally come to court, this is your chance to impress and beguile.” Hermione didn’t stop though, if anything her mother’s word only agitated her more. Hermione had been overjoyed when her father returned home, victorious from war and with news of his promotion. The Grangers were minor nobles and her father had been given a position as an advisor to King Albus Dumbledore in thanks for his contributions to the war against the enemy kingdom of Mordurm. With that new position came many benefits, a place for the Granger’s at court, new titles, and most importantly for Hermione, the chance to find a master who could continue her training in the magical arts. 

Hermione’s initial excitement had begun to give way to nerves now that she had been at the palace for a few days and her mother’s talk of the princes and of social climbing were too much for her to bear. Tonight King Albus would be holding a banquet and ball. The thought of mixing with so many nobles and influential courtiers had Hermione’s stomach in knots. Her mother’s constant efforts to “help” her daughter prepare for the festivities only agitated Hermione further. In this moment, Lady Granger seemed to realize her efforts had gone too far and she sighed and clasped her daughter’s hands in her own. 

“My sweeting,” Lady Granger said, “Stop fussing. You have grown into a lovely and intelligent young woman.” 

At this Hermione gave her mother a ghost of a smile. Lady Granger let go of her daughters hands and lovingly smoothed over Hermione’s skirt. Once she was satisfied, she stepped back to admire her daughter, “You will be a shining star at court. No one can match you, daughter. Surely you will catch the eye of the Potter heir.”

“He’s not the heir yet, My Lady” Lord Granger said, the mention of the heir piquing his interest, “The Declaration has not yet been made. Either of the princes still have an equal chance of winning the throne.”

Lady Granger tutted with impatience, “I love you, My Lord, but you are more blind than most. Everyone knows that our king favors Prince Harry. The boy is hardly away from the King’s side.” 

“Prince Harry is a fine young man, skilled in battle and the people have much love for him, but Prince Draco is not to be put aside. The house of Malfoy is old and powerful and his abilities in the arcane arts are formidable. He is a — er — dragon on the battlefield.” Lord Granger said, proud of himself and his pun. He winked mischievously at his daughter.

Lady Granger rolled her eyes and playfully swatted her husband’s arm. “Dragon or no, skill in battle does not mean skill in governance.” 

Hermione suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, she didn’t want to hear her parents debate about the Declaration or the Princes again. She decided to quickly sideline the conversation, “Mother, I am not you. What if I don’t want to marry the heir or marry at all?”

Her mother completely froze, and squinted at her daughter in mock disgust, “I know you are saying those words to provoke me, and I will not comment.” And with those words the budding argument was forgotten as Lady Granger left the sitting room to deal with her next task elsewhere. 

Hermione felt too riled up to go back to her reading so she paced about the room, inspecting the fireplace and admiring the intricate carvings on the walls. Scenes of dancing nymphs frolicking in the sun were rendered with precise detail. Hermione admired the artistry, tracing her hands along the figure of a nymph halfway between turning from a tree into a woman. 

She thought over her mother’s words and knew her ambitions were not misplaced. The current king did not care for social status and instead chose to surround himself with advisors who impressed him with their wit, magical abilities, and prowess in war; regardless of their social standing. Minor nobles like the Grangers could find easy paths to power with such a king. 

Hermione found herself thinking of the possibilities of what could be accomplished with the new honors and titles given to her father for his achievements in the war. She had more planned for her life than simply marrying well. Her father, himself an amateur scholar, had impressed upon Hermione the value of knowledge. She eagerly devoured the books at Granger manor and her tutors had nothing but praise for her progress. Above all, Hermione was gifted in magic, the very skill the king prized, and she hoped to find a master at court to help her grow beyond the knowledge contained at the Granger home, Greenwood castle. 

She and her mother were thrilled with the idea of coming to court but for different reasons, while Lady Granger thrived on the fantasy of moving up in the world, Hermione longed to master secrets of magic. Secrets that she hoped the scholars of King Albus’s court would someday teach to her. The famed alchemist Nicholas Flamel was a patron of the crown, as well as the skilled potioneers Severus Snape and Horace Slughorn. Most impressive to Hermione was the formidable sorceress Minerva McGonagall who had mastered the ability to transfigure herself into every manner of magical and non-magical creature. 

To Hermione, the court was a place of endless possibilities where she could pursue her desires while still being an obedient daughter to her parents. She would marry well, but it would be on her terms. She would find someone smart who valued her intelligence, someone who wouldn’t control her, and of course someone whom she loved and loved her in return. Her parents had been lucky to marry for love when so many marriages were made to advance families. All she knew was a family of love and she felt she could only be true to herself if she could live in love. 

Her mother’s happy voice broke her musings as Hermione was called into her parent’s bed chamber. Her mother ushered her over to the bed where a fine gown of ocean blue silk had been laid out. Hermione had never seen a gown so beautiful. The intricate floral embroidery and lace that bordered the bodice, coupled with the delicate silver beads that trailed down the sleeves took her breath away. “A gift for you, my sweeting, to wear to tonight’s banquet.” Lady Granger said beaming. 

“Thank you, mama,” Hermione said as she embraced her mother, kissing her on the cheek. Lady Granger called for her lady’s maid to come and dress Hermione and style her hair. By the time the Granger’s were ready to join the banquet, Hermione’s nerves were long forgotten, replaced once again by the excitement of the upcoming night.

@@@@@

Hogwarts castle’s great hall was filled with a throng of nobles and warriors all dressed in their finery. Tonight marked a hard won peace deal with the neighboring kingdom of Mordurm. Their kingdom, Alban, had come out as the victor in the war, having taken several castles and fertile farming grounds from the Mordurm. King Gellert Grindlewald, the sovereign of Mordurm, had lost his nephew and heir in the most recent battle, and if the rumors were to be believed, the enemy king was so distraught that the will to fight had left him. Most people scoffed at the tale, Grindlewald was feared as a cruel ruler even amongst his own people. He craved power and certainly wouldn’t take the loss of his heir and lands quietly. Hermione felt that whatever reason for peace, it couldn’t last, but she pushed the negative thoughts from her mind at the sight of the celebration.

Hermione marveled at the artistry of the great hall. Elegant stone pillars carved into the shapes of lions, eagles, snakes, and badgers, the emblems of the founders of Alban, lined the expanse of the hall. The tables were arranged around a large hearth at the center of the hall that filled the room with smoky warmth and light. From Hermione’s position at a side table, she could see the King seated at the head table with the princes on either side of him. The king was deep in conversation with his son to the right, which Hermione assumed was Prince Harry because of his dark hair. The pair laughed merrily, seemingly unaware of the rest of the court seated around them. The other prince, Draco, spoke to a stout, ruddy faced man to his left. The stout man drank deeply from his goblet before letting out a laugh, clearly enjoying his conversation with the prince. The prince returned his companions' mirth with a polite smile.  

Dinner passed quickly. Many sumptuous dishes made their way to the banquet, pottage, venison, and a main course of an ornately arranged pheasant stuffed with apples, walnuts, and plums. An array of dessert tarts and pasties followed soon after. Hermione savored each bite, eating until she felt as stuffed as the pheasant. 

Once the banquet ended, the ball began. The court moved to a second hall as large as the first. Hermione was captivated by the enchanted ceiling that mirrored the sky outside. Tonight a full moon shone upon the revelers, not a single cloud passed by all night. 

Lively music began, and courtiers gathered in groups to participate in the dance. Hermione found herself in a dancing circle flanked by two young men, one with a pleasant round face and another with angular but handsome features. As a new song began, the group joined hands and danced around in a circle skipping and hopping to the beat. Around and around they spun, Hermione threw her head back in delighted laughter. Oh, how nice it was to come to court. She could dance under the moon forever.  

Some time during the song the circle broke to form a line that weaved around the dance floor. Hermione, the round faced boy, and a charming blonde girl made up the rear of the line. As the pace of the music quickened, the round faced boy’s foot snagged on the carpet, taking Hermione and a blonde girl tumbling down with him while the other dancers moved on. The courtiers around them laughed in amusement as the boy apologized profusely to the two women. Ignoring the snide laughter, the blonde was quick to reassure him, “Not to worry, Lord Neville, I am not harmed are you Lady—?“

 “Hermione Granger,” Hermione finished, “and I am unharmed. Maybe now is a good time to rest and get a drink seeing as our dancing group has moved on without us.” 

“Shall we all go find a refreshment then?” The blonde girl asked. 

The other two nodded in agreement and with that, the two women helped Lord Neville to his feet. Hermione noticed that he blushed when the blonde girl took his arm and she smiled shyly back. 

Hermione flagged down a server carrying goblets of spiced wine and soon the three were rosy faced and chatting amiably. Hermione learned the blonde girl was named Lady Hannah Abbot and that Neville belonged to the Longbottom clan, both old and prestigious families. Hermione could hear her mother’s voice imploring her to make an impression with these two, but Hermione was just relieved to have made new friends at court. Hannah kept laying her hands on Neville’s arm or running her fingers through his hair while the boy, happy at her attentions, kept blushing redder and redder. An idea came to Hermione as she watched the two, and she said, “I heard that the castle gardens are a work of art, that the Herbologist Pomona Sprout had a hand in creating it.” 

“She did!” Neville replied enthusiastically, ”I’ve been taken on as her apprentice, you see, and it really is amazing! Vervain, devil’s snare, mandrakes! The palace greenhouses have everything! 

“Don’t forget about the living hedge maze!” Hannah said.

“A living hedge maze?” Hermione asked.

“Oh yes! The maze is enchanted to rearrange itself every so often,” Hannah explained, “Believe me, I would have been lost for days if Neville and Madam Sprout hadn’t have found me…” 

Neville’s blush returned and he drank deeply from his goblet as if the object were something to hide behind. 

“I want to see this maze! Hannah, Neville, show me please,” Hermione said smiling as she grabbed her two companions and ushered them towards the entrance hall. 

The maze was just as incredible as Hannah and Neville said. Ten foot tall hedges reached towards the sky and the entrance was decorated with an arch made of two interlocking phoenixes, whose wings and tail feathers moved gently, as if alive. The trio entered the maze, and the heads of the phoenixes turned to follow them. Oblivious, the little group chatted about court life and how Hermione would have many future balls and banquets to look forward too. Would she even get to meet the princes? Hermione thought to herself. The court seemed like a different world where anything could happen.

The three new friends ambled around, turning this way and that, trying to find the end of the maze and the “must be seen” mermaid lake. In the middle of Neville’s harrowing story about the court fool getting drunk and fighting a violent tree, the bush to Hermione’s right began to shake. Hannah sighed in delight and stepped closer to Hermione to whisper in her ear, “it’s happening! The maze is going to move.”

But much to everyone’s disappointment, somewhere in the distance an owl hooted, and a gopher scuttled out from the bush and across the pathway, eager to avoid becoming a late night meal. Just as Hermione was about to suggest they keep on moving, the bushes began to quiver again and branches slithered out, weaving together to reform a new wall. Hermione jumped forward away from Hannah and Neville and quickly dodged a particularly large branch that could have knocked her over. Hermione’s new friends disappeared behind the newly woven hedge wall. “Hannah! Neville! We’re cut off,” Hermione said, calling out to them. 

Moments passed then Hermione heard Hannah and Neville’s voices, “Lady Hermione will you be able to find your way back? Should we call for help?” 

“No, don’t worry about me! I could use some time to cool down before I go back. Have a good night you two!” Hermione said.

The hidden pair called out their goodbyes and Hermione surged forward onto the freshly made path laughing as she went. She had been wandering this way and that, analyzing the patterns in the ground tiles that would hopefully guide her to the end of the maze. She thought she cracked the code hidden in the tiles, but a wall of hedges blocked her path. She was about to turn around and try again when the hedges shook to life and the branches started unraveling before her, exposing the end of the maze.

Hermione felt so proud, she had made it to the mermaid lake. She took in the sight of the lake with a tiered fountain near it’s edge. Bronze mermaids lounged on rocks scattered artfully around the lake. Just like the phoenixes, these statues moved, some mermaids brushed out their hair or stared at their reflections in the water. The water sparkled as it was filled with the moonlight, giving the area an ethereal glow. This truly was a sight that shouldn’t be missed. 

As Hermione moved closer to the lake’s edge, she noticed a figure laying in the grass by the shoreline. It moved to stand as she approached and Hermione came face to face with his royal majesty, Prince Draco of the house of Malfoy. 

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading this story! Let me know what you think. This is the first fanfic I’ve written in years so please be kind. 

EDIT: This is a re-upload. I changed the title from “The Declaration” to “The Phoenix Court”. 

[comrade-meow]

Dawn had only just broken over the mountains. While most of the women and children on the camping grounds were still asleep, others were already wide awake, huddling together in the first rays of sunlight and drinking coffee.

To a casual observer, this place might have seemed similar to any mainstream festival campsite. A distinguishing factor, however, was that there wasn’t a single man in sight. The sign on the main entrance left no one in doubt that only women and children were welcome at this event: “Men not permitted to enter.”

Women’s participation in Mexico’s 25-year-old Zapatista National Liberation Army, or EZLN movement, has represented an incredible organizational achievement since its original uprising in 1994. On International Women’s Day, the female militants of the EZLN did not fail to meet expectations when welcoming 7,000 people to the “First International Political, Artistic, Sports, and Cultural Encounter for Women who Struggle.”

Two thousand indigenous Zapatista women from various parts of Chiapas state and 5,000 visitors from all over the world came to Caracol Morelia, near the northeastern town of Altamirano, to hear what they had to say.

Uniting women

The event was entirely initiated by women of the EZLN. They planned it from beginning to end, and made sure everyone who attended was allocated a sleeping place, had access to drinking water and was cared for in the case they fell sick during the three days the event took place. Zapatista events such as these have commonly been accessible via invitation only. This event differed from most of the EZLN’s previous “Escuelitas,” or “Little Schools,” summoning all women and children who were interested in the struggle to overcome misogynistic culture.

“What we wanted was to meet many women,” said Commander Jenny, who coordinated the event. “We thought that only a few women were going to come, so we are very happy to see how many of you have joined us here.” Although only her eyes were visible, a smile was detectable behind her black balaclava. “It has been hard work, but we are very pleased to see that there are many other women who are fighting patriarchy.”

The event was not only an opportunity to create educational or professional networks, but also a space to consider one’s health and well-being as a woman in the fight for justice. There were activities ranging from workshops, discussion panels and movie screenings to theater performances, art exhibitions and sports events, including basketball and soccer matches. Themes included gender violence, self-defense, self-care, sexism in the media, sexual rights, health and education, misogyny and childhood, discrimination against indigenous LGBTQ communities, women environmental rights defenders, and decolonization. All of the activities were led and held by women, and all of them were aimed at generating consciousness of gender inequality or the restoration of women’s self-confidence and autonomy.

“Capitalism is not only colonial, it is also patriarchal and racist,” said Fernanda Esquivel, a 20-year-old student from Guadalajara. “To come here and see that the Zapatistas are still resisting and have resisted for so many years is a huge inspiration for me. Being with so many women and feeling united also makes me feel hopeful about really creating a change. In academia there is nothing that can show you what it is like to come here, and to feel and share these experiences in practice.”

Young women like Esquivel have grown up watching the Zapatistas evolve and followed their fight through media reports, the Zapatista’s own communication channel, “Zapatista Connection,” and more recently a Facebook page and YouTube account. Women from a total of 42 different countries, some of whom were already familiar with women’s movements or other social, political or environmental activism, attended the event in hopes that they would gain skills and inspiration from the women’s Zapatista struggle.

“Apart from wanting to amplify my vision of how different fights against the extractive industries are developing,” said Katherin Cruz from the National Network of Women Human Rights Defenders in Honduras, which accompanies women human rights defenders involved in territorial conflicts. “I came here so I could recharge my batteries and take home experiences that strengthen me individually and prepare me for the work that I do, and for my political activism within the feminist movement in Honduras.”

The birth of the EZLN

In 1983, a group of indigenous peasants in Chiapas organized in secret, educating themselves politically and creating an entirely unique philosophy that insisted that “another world is possible,” one that focuses on collectivity, serving the Zapatista community and creating an autonomous social and economical environment for themselves within neoliberal and capitalist Mexico. Finally on January 1, 1994 the group went public, calling themselves the Zapatista National Liberation Army, named after the hero of the 1910 Mexican Revolution, Emiliano Zapata. That day, the EZLN launched an armed uprising, occupied seven towns in Chiapas, including San Cristóbal, and declared war on the Mexican government.

During their brief occupation, followed by a 12-day battle, the EZLN criticized the effects of global capitalism on local farmers and indigenous land. They drew attention in particular to the North American Free Trade Agreement, or NAFTA, calling it a death sentence for the indigenous peasants of Mexico. NAFTA would be responsible for dismantling collective land rights secured by the Mexican constitution and prioritizing export manufacturing. The Zapatistas fought for a fairer distribution of wealth, as well as the right to political participation for indigenous people in Mexico.

After their initial uprising, in 1996 the Zapatista organization gained constitutional recognition from the state through the San Andres Accords and formed the National Indigenous Council. The Mexican government did not comply with the agreements and the Zapatistas continued to suffer from violent attacks, such as the Acteal Massacre in 1997, where 45 Zapatista sympathizers were killed in Chiapas. Since then, they have peacefully organized mass marches and protests, created their “caracoles,” or administrative headquarters, formed autonomous governance, justice, health and education systems and launched public campaigns drawing attention to continued racism and discrimination in Mexico. According to the Mexican newspaper El Universal, the EZLN now governs over 250,000 indigenous people living in the Autonomous Rebellious Zapatista Municipalities in Chiapas.

Today, the image of the Zapatista soldiers, clad in red scarves and balaclavas, has reached some of the most remote corners of the world. Their movement is now well known for its transition from armed struggle to nonviolent resistance to advance their demands for indigenous land rights and autonomy, which has triggered tremendous support and solidarity from anti-capitalist activists globally. However, many of the major issues for indigenous communities addressed by the Zapatistas, such as abandonment and marginalization, continue to exist in Chiapas and other parts of impoverished Mexico.

Women’s involvement and participation

During the gathering, Commander Marina took the stage to tell the story of the first female Zapatistas, their struggle for recognition in a male-dominated space and their experience of clandestine meetings prior to their public appearance in 1994. “We took our safety very seriously so that no one would realize where we were going. We had meetings in the mountains, these were very important. We had talks on politics, read books and watched films. We studied the situation of poverty our community was submerged in,” she said. “There was nothing to gain trying to demand things from our bad government.”

The backdrop of the women’s movement within the Zapatista struggle reveals extreme levels of violence against women, poverty and abandonment from any sort of federal health or educational institutions. Intersectional discrimination for being poor, indigenous and women was commonplace, and girls were often forced into marriages or sold by their fathers or families. During the opening ceremony of the encounter, the Zapatistas made it clear that women were sidelined and perceived by the community as second-class citizens. According to Commander Flor, even “midwives would charge less when girls were born.”

Their struggle has led the women in the ranks of the EZLN — which comprise about a third of the organization’s participants — to see themselves from a different perspective and shed light on the problematic behaviour caused by gender inequality. “At the beginning, we were not used to saying our opinions, or having discussions. We would all agree to everything and nod our heads,” Marina said. “We had to fight among our own compañeros, since it took a lot for them to understand the rights we have as women. There is a lot left to achieve but we are convinced that we will accomplish our ideals because we are organized, and we are strong as a collective. We have put fear and doubt aside.”

Many followers of the Zapatista revolution were not aware of the key elements that formed the movement before going public in 1994. Undeniably, one of the key characteristics that shaped the movement was the “Women’s Revolutionary Law,” passed by the Zapatista committees in 1992.

For Sylvia Marcos, a sociologist and expert on indigenous movements across the Americas, the emphasis on women’s rights is a defining factor for the organization. Furthermore, she indicates that these rights were claimed not solely for women as individuals, but were “fully linked and interwoven with collective rights.”

The unique transformations achieved by the Zapatista indigenous movement are manifest in its attempt to re-imagine gender and decolonize oppressive discourse for the sake of personal empowerment.

Enduring inspiration

Over the last three decades, the revolution continues to abide by laws made by the autonomous Zapatista government. With military strategist and spokesperson Subcomandante Marcos “resigning” from his activities, the Zapatistas have moved out of the media spotlight. However, the successful turnouts for their events prove that the Zapatistas are still an important source of inspiration for social mobilizations and women’s movements today.

Not simply an iconic reminder of what indigenous communities were up against in the past, the Zapatistas are engaging in great efforts to revise their strategies and continue to create networks of people who resist, especially among women. Though alternative visions of gender relations have flourished among the Zapatistas, women in the movement continue to suffer gender violence and are battling other issues not uncommon in Chiapas, such as malnutrition, and lack of access to health care and education.

The Zapatistas are addressing some of these issues through their own internal initiatives. Part of their collective work towards independence and sustainability relies on their agroecological farming projects, coffee sales, cooperative shops, community kitchens, traditional medicine and tortilla businesses. However, the fundamental purpose of the Zapatista movement is to promote their way of life and organize collective resistance to resource appropriation, historically-determined economic and social disadvantages and institutional neglect, which exacerbate poverty, sustain the governmental elite and destroy local traditions. Much of their work revolves around inspiring new generations to begin their own journey towards deconstructing norms in their respective societies.

The Zapatista movement currently functions like an organization that promotes constructive dialogue, communication and continued reflection on problems that affect their communities, as well as a support network for other national movements, including the water conflict affecting the indigenous Yaqui community, the 43 Ayotzinapa students missing since 2014 and the recent presidential campaign by the indigenous activist Maria de Jesus Patricio Martinez.

Women’s participation within the EZLN has played a key role in their success and ideology. They have made it clear that there will be no democracy without them. What the event last month demonstrated to many of those who were present, was the need to create safe spaces for all women, which allow them to heal and inspire them to continue fighting their own battles in their own ways. “We made an agreement, and that agreement was to live!” Commander Marina said. “And since, for us, living is fighting, we agreed to fight — each of us according to our means, our place and our time.”

[mysterylover123]

Todoroki’s Relationships Analysis: Part 2: Chapters 21-44 (Sports Festival

Onward to the Sports Fest

Chapter 22-23: Midoriya 

Todoroki first takes notice of Midoriya when he overhears Iida and Uraraka gossiping about Deku’s connection with All Might. This indicates that Todoroki sees Deku as a rival initially because of his connection with the #1. As Inasa later points out, Shoto at this point in his life seems to be always looking away to something he hates in the distance. He only sees the chance to hurt his Dad, and nothing else.

Right before the Sports Festival starts, in the prep room, Shoto walks up to Midoriya and tells him he’s better than him, but that since All Might has his eyes on Midoriya, Todoroki intends to beat him.  “I feel no need to pry into that” indicates that Shoto isn’t interested in Midoriya himself at this point, but only in the prestige of defeating All Might’s protege. 

He certainly isn’t.

Midoriya accepts his challenge and Shoto’s response is hard to describe...he’s basically just calmly accepting.

In the first event, Shoto instantly gets ahead of the  crowd. Momo and Bakugou both reprimand him for his arrogance in thinking he could beat them all so easily, as both of them are able to escape his trap right away. 

Cont below the cut

Todoroki probably expected them to escape - as established before, he has respect for Momo and Katsuki’s skills. 

His gaze is still focused on Endeavor. He also froze the robots on purpose to take people out, showing a disregard for other peoples’ safety. 

He takes the time to notice Bakugou catching up to him; Bakugou then proceeds to pass him and tell him he declared war on the wrong person. Shoto looks like he may be considering that possibility - remember, at this point he has expressed respect for Bakugou’s abilities, outside of any mentor figure or connection, but not for Midoriya’s on his own. 

Like in the Provisional License Exam Arc, Shoto gets distracted by a petty fight with a potential rival and leaves himself open to fail, focusing more on his angry and resentment than on trying to win. 

And then gets taken down from behind, by someone he stopped paying attention to.  When Midoriya surpasses him (and Bakugou stays ahead of him) he looks annoyed, even angry.

And as he continues to tie with the other two, he looks a little nervous. 

When he does in fact lose, his initial response isn’t shown, but his image in the results is almost in shock. While Shoto does have a tendency to come in second (the entrance exam, the Quirk Apprehension test), he directly challenged Midoriya, and then lost to him in the first event. He probably was not expecting to actually lose to Deku in the first round. Deku surprises him here.

CAVALRY BATTLE:

Kirishima mentions that Todoroki assembled his team pretty quickly.  We already know that Shoto respects Yaoyorozu’s capabilities.

 It’s possible, however, that he only picked these three, as he said later on, because they would ‘make the strongest possible combination’. He’s definitely buying into his own assertion about not being there to make friends. 

He admits to Iida that he has a vow not to use his heat side, the first time we see him admit this to someone. 

His target is Midoriya, like most of the other teams. Deku has 10 million points, so he basically has no choice. He also probably wants to surpass him after losing to him in the first round. 

He tells Midoriya firmly that he’ll “be taking that”, challenging him about halfway through with a carefully thought out plan. 

We see that Shoto generally works well with Yaoyorozu. However, as she puts it later, she mostly just follows his orders here. He’s the boss, she’s the secondary teammate (as are Kaminari and Iida), the subordinate to his state of being in charge. 

Todoroki is kept at bay for almost the entire Cavalry Battle thanks to Midoriya exploiting his weakness. This really pisses Shoto off. He calls Deku a “bastard” for exploiting his weakness here - another sign of Shoto effectively 

His response to Deku coming at him with his fire power is one of real terror. He reflexively activates his fire side in this fit of terror. (OFA full power can bring down a building, he’s not wrong).

He’s horrified that he let his left side activate, and looks nearly traumatized afterwards. He blames Midoriya for cornering him, and corners him before lunch to explain why he won’t use his fire side.

BACKSTORY TIME

So Midoriya is the only person Todoroki has so far given the details of his backstory to. I’ve always found the question of confidence to be an important one in determining who to pair up, becuase it indicates who the character feels they can talk to about their personal problems. So far, though, Shoto hasn’t shown much warmth or fondness for Midoriya, so confiding in him here feels differently from Ochaco confiding her backstory in Iida and Deku, or Deku telling Kacchan about OFA, or even Bakugou crying in front of Midoriya on several occasions. As shown above, he begins this confidence glaring at Izuku with a “cold” sort of intimidation.

He explains his own reasoning for why he used his flame side and makes a reasonable guess, but not a correct one, about Izuku’s origin story. 

He tends to be looking away from Deku in this scene as he tells him about his origin. Looking off, as always, into the distance, at something not immediately before him. 

Here, he finally gets a little emotional and admits something tragic and uncomfortable, ending with his complete pledge. Izuku declares war right back at him, and Todoroki says basically nothing. He has no response. 

Honestly, I’m not really sure why Todoroki chooses to tell Deku his backstory. My best guess is that it’s his way of justifying holding back against him. He has an inkling that maybe that’s the wrong thing to do, but he needs to reaffirm that his tactic is correct. 

DEKU VS TODOROKI

Todoroki in general here seems genuinely scared of Deku’s power.

He’s rightfully horrified at how far Deku is willing to go (this translation is so weird). Todoroki genuinely doesn’t seem to understand at this point why anyone would go this far to win. It’s hard for him to empathize with this mindset, because he’s used to being the best and winning pretty easily.

He is not without empathy for how much pain Deku is in, of course. He apologizes for hurting him, which Deku probably interprets as condescending to him. He feels bad that his own power is hurting someone - his usual ‘apologies’ catchphrase indicating that he’s apologizing for his op-ness.

Deku calls Todoroki out for refusing to actually look at his opponent and fixating on some offscreen foe.

He still can’t seem to understand why Midoriya would do this.  To someone like Todoroki, who’s used to being able to win without having to take any real damage himself, the idea of breaking your own body to win an exhibition match is probably completely incomprehensible.

The only way he can explain it to himself is by assuming Endeavor rigged the match, once again fixating on his old man at the expense of everything else. 

As Deku gets crazier and crazier Shoto flashes back to his recital of his ‘trivial’ motivation. Deku then starts bawling Shoto out for refusing to give it his all. 

Shoto’s response to this is to tell him to Shut up and start flashing back to his own traumatic backstory. He’s overwhelmed by his ice side and starts falling apart, afraid to use his fire and aware that that might be the only way he can win. As I mentioned in my meta on his ‘Shipping Problem’, this is an issue between Deku and Shoto: Deku is very argumentative and confrontational, Shoto is not.

It isn’t until Deku says something constructive that everything changes. This reminds Shoto of something All Might said, and something his mother said. This prompts him to use his fire for the first time. 

This smile (the first time we see Shoto smile) can be read in a number of ways. Mainly, of course, a feeling of freedom, of being able to let loose. Fighting Sero earlier saw Shoto essentially just cut loose with his ice powers and nearly hurt someone. Shoto’s core fear seems to be becoming like his father and harming those around him with his power. But there is an argument that quirks demand to be used, that people need to be able to utilize their abilities. Freeing Shoto up to do so means that Izuku saves him from feeling torn about this. Even the most dangerous and terrifying powers demand their use (ie, Toga’s backstory) and repressing them mentally hurts people in BNHA. 

He  starts crying about unleashing his powers this way, as Endeavor screams his name at him and yells at him that he’s “living up to the reason he created him”. So, now that Izuku has given Shoto the words he needed to make better use of his quirk, what does he think of Deku now?

a

Well he’s not wrong. But it does seem that Shoto thinks Midoriya is crazy. Something about him just unsettles him and he can’t seem to understand what motivates Izuku to act like he does. 

However, he’s still grateful to him for his support.

He’s borderline stunned when he wins and left deeply conflicted about what to do next. He can only say that Deku distracted him from Endeavor enough that he “forgot about him”. Deku made him use his left side in order to win. He doesn’t use his fire against Iida and seems back, almost, to his old ways - winning fast with only ice and a quietly mumbled “apologies”. 

Now we come back to Bakugou. Now, Todoroki, as established before, does have some respect for Bakugou’s abilities. He isn’t completely dismissive of him. He’s not afraid of him (his face when challenging him is never as scared as he looks fighting OFA Deku), and he generally just kind of stays calm around him.

While preparing for his match, Todoroki is thinking about Midoriya’s words. He has probably been considering tactics and that he might need to use his fire to beat Bakugou, which would have led him back to considering what Deku said and his conflict with his mom.

When Bakugou bursts in, Shoto looks a little surprised but immediately goes back to contemplating his hands. Bakugou doesn’t like this and, like Deku, demands “Where are you looking?” A moment of continuity between the two rivals.

Shoto asks Bakugou all about Deku, showing some interest in learning more about the guy and maybe even some guilt for how Deku went out.

Bakugou kicks the table over and demands that Todoroki pay attention to HIM, not his family problems or Deku or anything. This is a Shoto analysis post, not a Bakugou one, so I won’t go into Bakugou’s motives here. Shoto looks annoyed with him after he says this and even a little angry. 

He starts his match with a very all out ice attack. To quote from my friend ido100, about Todoroki’s fights here “Against Sero, I think the "apology" was meant to say something like "I need to flip the bastard off, and I'm sorry I have to release the rage on you".Against Bakugo, I think when what went through his mind when Midoriya encouraged him was "Why am I holding back? Endeavor doesn't matter. I'll show him. The only thing that matters is the battle!" Retaliation- "But... It's... not right. Is it?"And during the battle against Bakugo, the comment of the ice being more focused indicates his mind was cleared more into the battle. “

Shoto conitnues to try fighting with only ice, enraging Bakugou when he refuses to fight him with fire. 

Aizawa points out that he’s basically lost his energy after fighting Deku. He’s not sure of anything anymore, not sure whether he should use only ice or use both. Before he was unstoppable because he had a clear goal. Now he’s had to compromise his plans and he just can’t go all out either way. 

This line is really interesting - Todoroki didn’t feel guilty about not giving Midoriya an all out fight at first, even though both demanded as much from him. His mindset has changed. He doesn’t suspect Bakugou of being paid off by Endeavor. Instead, he feels bad about hurting him.

Midoriya cheers him on from the stands and for a moment Todoroki decides to  go all out and use his fire. However, the flashbacks to his past return and in the end he puts the fire out and loses, devastating Bakugou.  A part of it may indeed be just as Bakugou fears, that Todoroki doesn’t think he’s a big enough threat to merit an all out fight - after all, he’s a LOT more intimidated by MIdoriya, despite Bakugou throwing freaking Howitzer impact at him. 

Afterwards, he’s still thinking about Deku and why All Might took notice of him. Based on Deku’s...advice?...he decides to go make peace with his mom so he can be a better hero in the future.

Sports Fest Shoto starts off madly resolved on winning with just his ice side. He notices Midoriya as All Might’s protege and challenges him, he acknowledges Momo and Bakugou’s strength to some degree, but he’s mostly preoccupied with screwing over Endeavor. He’s forced out of that sort of fog when Deku starts going crazy and berating him. He feels free to let loose for a little while, but remains conflicted and ends up hurting Bakugou’s feelings. The arc leaves him in a state of confusion and ambivalence.

[lunisims]

                💖 Mason Vatore and his daughters are looking for a new                          addition to the family.  Are you ready to join a life                                                  already in motion? 💖

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

This has been a long time coming. I did a poll and the results were unanimous -- and so here’s our vampire bachelor. The plan is to find Mason his future wife, send them to Uni, and then continue on to create a legacy with them and the girls!

And, yes, you read that name right -- Mason Vatore, as in related to Caleb and Lillith Vatore. But how? And who are these precious girls? This challenge is not for those who don’t like a good backstory.

                                        Slide under the cut to get the details!

[ FUN FACTS ]

♦  Mason Elias Vatore. 147 years young. Body Builder Aspiration. Athletic, Creative, Bookworm.

♦  He’s a writer with a couple centuries worth of novels under his belt, all penned with different surnames.

♦  High key he wants to have another kid, but he wouldn’t dare try the family thing again until he knew for sure he’d found the one. (Will it be you?? so cheesy oml)

♦  Coffee addict. Scratch that. Caffeine addict. But he’s raising twin girls, caffeine is a necessity.

♦  Actually can’t cook to save his life. Which is fine, I guess, since he’s a vampire??

♦  He won’t switch to or show his dark form while his girls or anyone is around, really. He doesn’t want to scare or turn people off. Don’t ask him about it, it’s the easiest way to upset him.

♦  Wants to live in the city, or at least somewhere a little more central so he can go out and about in the evening.

♦  He’s a window shopper, a store hopper, a ‘walk around at night seeing what the city has to offer’ kind of guy. Festivals, parks, events, concerts -- he’s all about all that.

♦  His overall aesthetic is comfy sweaters, hats, coffee, afternoon sun (yes, sun, he’s got immunity to it now), night life, dancing, computers, and lazy sunday mornings.

♦  Overall personality is a social softie with a love for kids and an adventurous nature. Life may not be short for him, but there’s no shortage of things to do in life and he wants to find them all with his girls and his future wife.

♦  His daughters are his life. To be apart of Mason’s life means to be involved with Toby and Matty. The girls are his moral compass and guiding force -- so if they don’t like you, you can kiss any chance with him goodbye.

[ BACKSTORY ]

Nowadays, Caleb Vatore is married to a space hopping, clone making scientist named Rowena Luni, with two daughters named Brier & Polly. But a few centuries earlier, Caleb was swept up into the arms of a friend of Lilith’s. A vampire named Camilla. One thing led to another and Camilla was soon carrying Caleb’s first son, Mason.

Sadly, things happened to Camilla that no one on the Vatore side of the family is super interested in talking about, but Mason grew up alongside his father happily and eventually went on to live his own immortal life. When Mason met Sandara, he thought he’d hit the jackpot. Their family life began, and she gave birth to a set of twins, Toby and Matty.

History doesn’t really repeat itself, but in a lot of cases, it rhymes. Sandara disappeared one evening, just as his own mother did, and Mason hasn’t seen her since the girls were toddlers.

He’s raised them well on his own, using a mix of financial backing from his wealthy father and aunt and his own job, and he never felt the need to find someone to spend his life with. Not when he had his girls. But at the sight of his father finding happiness, and his half sisters finding it as well, Mason’s started thinking that maybe it is time for him to find someone to spend eternity with. Not just for him, but for the girls who have never known a mother and could probably benefit from a kinder influence that is not their rowdy Aunt Lillith.

[ RULES ]

♦  Mason is straight. Female sims only please!  ♦  Tell me about your sims! Give them a full backstory or keep it to some bullet points, or do both, whatever is best for you!   ♦  Humans and Vampires only! If your sim is already a vampire, great. If they’re human and win the challenge, they’ll be turned into a vampire at the end! ��  Give your entries a few skills! I’m planning on sending the pair to University after the challenge, so give them a bit of an edge to help them get into the write major at school! ♦  No Romantic or Outgoing traits! It gives sims to much of an advantage.   ♦  They need at least one every day and one formal outfit. You’re free to dress the rest of their outfits, but I also don’t mind doing it myself. ♦  Maxis Match hair only please! Alpha clothes are fine though.  ♦  Tag your entries with #masonbc so I see them! Also be sure to @ me.

♦  Deadline for now is December 10th! Happy Simming and submitting!  ♦

[randomguywithwords]

As The Dust Settles: Chapter 12 (Dabi x Geten Slowburn)

Previous Chapters: 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

––––––––––––

Chapter 12: A Rivalry Ends

Geten opened the door to see the winged hero leaning against the opposite wall, tapping his feet to the music on his earphones. 

“What do you want?” Geten said. Hawks looked up and gave a smile. Before he opened his mouth, she followed up, “Get to the point. I don’t do niceties. Or introductions. I don’t care if we haven’t met before properly.”

“Just wanted to congratulate you on your squad leadership.” He replied with a cheery smile on his face, but his eyes told an entirely separate story. They reminded her of the predator he took his name from. 

That’s it? Geten turned to walk down the hallway, knowing that would trigger what he actually –

“Hope you can resist killing them too.” Came the predicted drawl from behind.

She stopped in her tracks. So he knows?

“What’s it to you whether they live or die?” She turned to look at him, hands in her pockets, controlling the ice cubes inside.

“Well, killing your own allies is counter-productive, isn’t it? Especially if they’re strong.” 

“Not to me.” 

“Still, I’m here to ask you to stop with your...hobbies.”

“I haven’t done anything since the festival.”

“So you’ve washed off their blood so easily?” 

Geten crossed her arms. “You sound like you have experience, hero.”

Hawks was quick to relax the tense expression that was elicited from her emphasis. “Maybe, maybe not, but you most definitely have, and that brings me to another question: Do you feel safe?”

What do you really want, number two hero? You don’t show up for no reason. His face didn’t give anything away, just a smile that Geten sees on Hanabata and his colleagues all the time.  

“Is that a threat?” She opened her palm lazily, and an ice cube left her pocket to swirl around it. 

“Not from me. I’m just stating facts. When everyone finds out you’ve killed people to get to where you are, and to stay where you are, it’s gonna be a problem.”

“Trumpet, Skeptic and Curious had no problem, and Re-destro basically gave me permission to.” That much was true. He told her that she was the top soldier in the Liberation Army. She simply kept it that way.

“Then why did they keep a secret list of soldiers away from the database?” 

How did he…?

“How much have you been snooping around, Hawks?” Geten accused, “I don’t think everyone likes a spy, either.”

“The Liberation Army won’t, but the League will.” 

“Sounds like you’re having trouble telling that we’re on the same side,” Geten lied. 

“Hmm. Well I have a hard time trusting people. If I could trust you, I’d feel much better.”

“You came here to talk about my past, and you ask for an...alliance? Your negotiation skills are garbage, Hawks.” Geten pointed out. 

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I’m terrible at talking. But if you ever find out which side you’re on, let me know. I’m interested in where you stand in all...this. But that’s all from me, cheerios!”

Having said this, he opened the window next to him and leapt out, leaving Geten staring at where he was. Something felt off with that hero-villain, Geten could tell, as though she had divulged too much information – information that he wanted. 

Ignore him, I have to train, she thought as she created her ice platform and left the hotel. 

She arrived at her training ground to find Dabi already present, to her annoyance. He was shooting fire towards some large boulders.

Surprisingly, no blast of fire came her way, only a scowl and a “What are you doing here? It’s 6 in the morning.” 

Still, better than his last method of greeting.

“I always train here at this time. It’s next to the river.” She pointed to the body of water just a few yards away. “And why are you training here? Why are you even training at all?”

“It’s none of your business whether or not I want to train.”

“Fine. I’ll be out of your hair.” 

“Good.” He gave a tight nod and returned to burning the large boulders, as Geten glided over to the river, a good fifty meters away from the blaze. 

For around half an hour, the field was silent apart from the occasional shattering of ice and the lull of fire roaring. Geten focused on her routine, which she had stuck to for the past few months now, and despite the disruption due to the festival and its aftermath, both externally and internally, she had kept to her schedule quite diligently. 

Mainly, her training revolved around improving her control over ice, pushing the threshold. Thus, her first half an hour was spent exerting her abilities over the river, freezing one portion and melting it, repeating the process, speeding it up slowly to improve her efficiency. It would give her more ammunition during a fight faster. Repeating the process despite her laboured breaths and sore arms gave her endurance. Every month, her limits were pushed further and further. 

But she did not mind. Her goals were unchanged despite everything that had happened. 

At the end of the first regimen, she rested by the riverside and drank some water.

Bored, her attention shifted to what Dabi was doing. She looked up to see him doing something peculiar. He was producing fire at his palms, but otherwise he was just standing there staring at it, as though that plume of blue fire was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. 

Then he noticed her. Geten spun her head around, but Dabi began to walk in her direction.

Shit, what now? Is staring a crime?

She met his eyes from afar, even as he slowly stalked closer with his hands tucked in his jacket. If he was gonna do something funny, she wasn’t backing down. 

When he was within earshot, she stood up, glaring. “What?” 

“What?” He said, tilting his head to the side. 

“You want something?”

“Yeah. Can we swap? You go over there for a couple minutes.” 

Geten blinked. “Why?”

“Do I need to explain why?” He sounded exasperated. 

“Yes. I’m starting my next task soon. I need the river.”

“Well, so do I, so if you could piss off for just a minute, that’d be great.” 

“Oh.” He needs the river? She glanced down at his arms, which were smoking. “You need to rest your arms, don’t you? Dipping them in water?”

His eyes widened, his expression tightening. He took one step forward as Geten braced herself. Then, to her bewilderment, he stopped and laughed.

“You really are observant. Well, you got me.” Sensing that there was no need to bother anymore, he bent down and stuck his arms in the river in front of her.

Geten saw his form tense up briefly, as though the river was electrified. Then his body considerably relaxed after a while.

“It...hurts?”

“No shit.”

She snorted. “I thought you somehow managed to overcome this flaw by...sheer grit, or something. Turns out you do this. So you did this that night, too?”

“Yeah, right after your temper tantrum.”

“Hey!” Geten growled, and Dabi let out a snort of his own, turning back and shaking off the water from his arms. 

“Thought you were a strong one,” She observed, looking at his raw and singed arms. 

Dabi blinked, then sighed. “Ok, I’m just gonna tell you the truth. Only because I don’t think you’re such a stuck-up bit – person anymore.”

“Gee, thanks,” Geten said. 

“I didn’t win that duel that night we fought, okay? Even if Compress hadn’t stepped in, I didn’t have any energy left. It was a draw. So can we just tie a knot on that, and not kill each other from now?” 

Wait...what? But –– how. Geten found herself frozen in place, her mind unable to form a coherent thought. While anger surged through her like steam, she felt strangely cool, her hatred at this man in front of her dissipating.

She knew the Geten from a week or two ago would have fired a shard of ice the minute he admitted to the truth about their duel, the duel that changed her perception of herself and the world entirely. She exited that duel beating herself up over her weakness, but...maybe I’m not?

But the memory of her meeting with Hanabata shot to the forefront of her brain, reminding her that she was so utterly powerless against something as simple as a gun and a threat of her position. 

“I’m interested in where you stand in all...this.” Hawks had said. 

Her eyes scanned Dabi, looking for some form of malice on that face, but he looked sincere. What happened?

“No.” 

Dabi took a step back. “Oh for –”

“Let me finish. I want to see who’s stronger, but not combat. Endurance.” Geten clenched her fist. 

Dabi arched an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”

“Try to melt my ice. If you can, you win. If you run out of steam first, I win.”

“Alright then.” Dabi shrugged. “Summon your thing.”

Geten took out an ice cube from her pocket and chucked it into the river, lowering the temperature of it. She felt more and more water molecules slow down to freezing point. The tingle at her fingertips grew larger. With a smirk, she raised her hand, willing the ice to rise upwards to form a mini glacier, a storey high. 

She looked at Dabi and gave a gesture. “Go ahead.”

Dabi stretched his fingers. Igniting his hands, he unleashed a stream of azure flames. 

The heat hit Geten instantly, the tingle beginning to die as ice melted out of her control. Not so fast, she thought, steeling her resolve. She kept the temperature steady, forcing the molecules to slow themselves against Dabi’s fire. She was not going to lose this match. 

In return, she felt the energy redirected into her own body. Her chest grew warmer by the second. A bead of sweat dripped down her forehead. 

She gave a gasp, betraying her exhaustion. Dabi looked at her for a brief second.

“So quick?” Dabi teased, but Geten noted the veins surfacing on his skin, popping out like grey branches. It was clearly hurting him too. 

If it was a war of attrition, talking only wasted energy. She stayed silent, focusing her mind on the task. 

The ice beneath and around the glacier was redundant. Not needing them, she raised the temperature of them to take some heat off her. It worked; the burn in her chest subsided temporarily. 

How much time had passed? It feels like it’s been an hour.

The fire was beginning to thin, just slightly. A smile danced on her lips, but the effort kept her teeth gritted. She would celebrate after she won. 

With every second, the ice on the surface, taking the brunt of the fire’s rage, melted despite her attempts to freeze them. She shifted her focus onto keeping the core of the glacier as cold as possible. That was how she would win, after all. 

Still, time seemed to slow the longer the match stretched. She was not letting up. Neither was he. 

Desperation crawled into her burning heart as she saw the glacier slowly shrink like butter in a pan. But she held out hope – Dabi was definitely faltering too, since the fire was also weakening.

A few more seconds...There’s no way he can survive longer. The pain would knock him unconscious. 

Her legs were like melting ice as well; her vision began to blur, seeing just the blue fire, ground, and the black, cloudy shape of Dabi. 

Shit. Her control slipped, as though she was clinging onto the semi-liquid ice itself. It was but a small mound now, and she wasn’t stopping the melting anymore. Not again.

But then the fire stopped with a gasp, which didn’t come from her. 

She let go, staggering, but she stood up. The person in front of her was on the floor, clutching his smoking arms. 

“I...I win.” The statement sounded more like a question towards herself. Why was she doubting it? He had stopped his fire. She just had to hear it first, hear it from him.

“Yeah.” Dabi’s voice was raspy, tinged with bitterness. He shakily stood up and walked over towards her and the river. “You win.”

As he plunged his hands into the water, a smile crept over her lips. Her head was dizzy from exerting herself, but also glee. 

I won. 

She took off her hood and sat down, panting, but her smile never left her. Dabi looked at her, his face scrunched up as he studied her expression. He shook his head. 

“You’re crazy, you know?” He said.

“Shut up, I won. I’m stronger,” She replied. 

Dabi hummed, turning his attention back to his arms. “So, are we done here? Truce?”

“Yeah, truce.”  

––––––

I’m not gonna lie, if you found that pseudo-fight boring, I can’t blame you. I had a hard time finding a good way to make it sound interesting. It’s literally just Dabi shooting fire at an iceberg which doesn’t want to melt. When I upload the 2nd draft on the fanfic platforms, I’m not even sure if I can edit it into something better. 

Geten-Hawks is a dynamic I have not considered and I went in basically blind. If either seems OOC, sorry. I’m not good at dialogue either, so the conversation might be confusing. 

I should definitely consult a dialogue pro on this.

Finally over with the rivalry phase, 12 chapters in. Actual slowburn. 

Long chapter (for my story). It’s made me think whether I should just be uploading these on AO3 first, since it’s UI is the least shittiest compared to the other 2. I might just compromise on inserting a link, and minimise this post with an expand link. Not a lot of people put full fics on Tumblr text posts, and those who do tend to use expand links, so I might do that. 

Let’s see...I’ve two more weeks before holidays end and I’m back to school, so come June uploads will slow down noticeably. Until then, hope I can churn out a couple more chapters.