#still waiting for this majestic fic to be updated | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

twistedcharismaaa · 4 years ago

Text

Create With Me? Pt. 2

Summary: Lakeith goes for a peaceful stroll through the park and stumbles across a gem.

Author’s Note: Hi beautiful people! I’m back with another “update”. I’m not sure if story will be a series quite yet. I sorta just received random inspiration for this story to do a part 2. But enough of me rambling, I love you guys! I hope you guys are doing well as always! Please leave a comment for ya girl! Enjoy!!!!!

Suggested Listening - “Ye yo (Live)” by Erykah Badu

Like the subtle tides of a vast ocean, his thoughts pulled him in gradually. Inch by inch he was allured deeper into his own mind with each thought being darker than the last. The negativity swirled him into an unending whirlpool of unspeakable hurt that was often self-inflicted. It was something that he wanted to grasp but it seemed as if he always unwillingly surrendered to its power. Lakeith’s hands rested in the pockets of his dark-colored jeans as he weaved through the warm bodies of the night club. His mouth muttered phrases like “Excuse Me,” and “Pardon Me,” until he arrived at his seated destination.

He sat down silently while readjusting his glasses on his face. He ran his palms across the mahogany wooden table leisurely in front of him. He leaned back in the chair letting his posture shift into a tiny slouch as his spine rested comfortably against the back of the chair. He tapped his fingers on the table nervously as he observed the others in the club. To his right, there was a couple beside him engaging in whispered conversations. He noticed the elusive touches they shared between each other like the small intended grazes against each other’s hands along with other flirtatious displays. To his left, there was an older gentleman who was unapologetically greyed sitting alone sipping on a cool glass of Bourbon. He watched him swivel the liquor in his glass as he eyed the liquor intensely as if he was lost in thought himself. For a brief moment, Lakeith rested his fingers on the table and inhaled slowly. At that moment, he thought of Ari.

“I would love to create something with you sometime,” he suggested.

“I would love that too actually,” she answered sweetly.

These were the blessed words that allowed him to exchange numbers with her. For the last couple of weeks, they’ve been communicating consistently to the point it was almost habitual. Ari would call him via facetime every morning. She loved hearing the raspiness in his voice but mostly, she loved how the sun would grace his skin gently completely illuminating him beautifully. He made her feel calm, safe, and important. It always amazed her how attentive he was - he was notorious for noticing the things that she wouldn’t say. Because inwardly, he knew that those words were always the most potent. Every morning with heavy eyelids, Lakeith would relish in Ari’s undeniable beauty. Her smile was bright, infectious, and was always in full bloom with him. She was a living, breathing masterpiece known for stealing the breath out of his very lips.

As Lakeith pulled his buzzing phone out of his jean pocket, he thought about the last conversation that he had with her.

------

Ari released a hearty laugh as she rolled over onto her pillow that was on the other side of the bed. She hid half of her face from Lakeith as she continued to giggle into that pillow. After catching her breath, she rested her chin on her pillow so Lakeith could see her face fully. She tugged at one of her freed curls while watching him with softened eyes.

“Wait, say it again?” she asked while smiling widely trying to contain her chuckles.

Lakeith rubbed his eyes and smirked to himself before speaking.

“Nah, cause you’re laughing too hard,” he said while laughing himself.

“I’m not gonna laugh this time I promise,” she replied while flashing her pinky finger.

“Aight, aight. This is your Tuesday morning poem. Straight off the dome.” he answered.

Ari playfully snapped her fingers and closed her eyes as Lakeith spoke.

“Achoo! Bless me cause a nigga too sick!

If you listen closely, you’ll hear a clock go tick tick.

Ari, you so fine let a nigga get a flick flick.

I don’t have anything else, so I guess this it.”

Suddenly, Ari and Lakeith fell into a burst of harmonious laughter. As the laughter faded into a comfortable silence, they stared at each longingly.

“Ari?” Lakeith quizzed.

“Yeah?” she answered.

“I want to know you more intimately,” he admitted nervously.

Ari studied him for a while before responding. She chewed on her bottom lip as she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear while she overly contemplated her next words. Even though Ari knew Lakeith for a short period of time, it was evident to her that he was a heavy presence. He was naturally intuitive, spiritual, and often misunderstood by the world around him. He overwhelmed her - erected her by resurrecting buried emotions and pulling them out of her simultaneously. He had a gift of making her feel sought after versus the feeling of being chased.

“You know the night club, Rasool’s?” she quizzed.

“Yeah? I do, on 5th Ave right?”

“Right,” she said while looking down and then back at him. She smiled timidly while sitting up on her bed.

“I’m my most intimate there. Can you meet me there tonight at 9:00 so I can share that side of me with you?” she continued.

“I would love nothing more,” Lakeith responded while smiling generously.

------

Now sipping a chilled glass of water brought to him by a kind waitress, Lakeith texted Ari casually informing her that he arrived at Rasool’s. In the text message, he told her that he was seated close to the stage and that he was wearing a sky blue hoodie. When he heard a familiar voice speak into the mic, his attention shifted quickly from his phone and towards the stage before him instead.

“Hey, y’all. I hope you’re feeling good out there. My name is Ari and I’m gonna sing a little something for you guys tonight by the infamous Badu. I hope I don’t fuck it up.” she said while giggling into the mic in a child-like manner.

Lakeith smiled while leaning forward letting his forearms rest on the table. He watched Ari close her eyes while humming into the microphone majestically.

“Ye yo, ye yo, ye yo, ye yo

(Help me)

Ye yo, ye yo, ye yo, ye yo…”

Ari swayed from side to side catching the beat rhythmically. Her eyes opened before she belted out the lyrics.

“Sometimes

Sometimes I get so lonely, lonely, lonely

I feel all by myself up here

That's when I take a minute

To re-evaluate things

All of the things I think are special

Oooh like”

Ari let the words penetrate her soul and ooze out of her vocal cords with a velvety richness. She moved her right hand aggressively as she continued to sing.

“When you wake up in the morning

And you see the morning sun

And you need to know the world is on your side

Who do you run to

Who can you turn to”

The waves of his roaring mind seemed to quiet and spill out of his eyes. He wiped his face roughly with eyes still fixated on Ari. He always viewed Ari as an enchanted being who would make his lungs tighten with her physical beauty. But tonight, he learned she was her most powerful when she was vulnerable. Unknowingly to her, she pulled Lakeith out of the depths of his own mind and breathed life into him.

“Well see the sun's in the east and the moon reflects

Like the knowledge and wisdom, I manifest

If you wanna go to heaven lay up on my breast”....

------

Part 1

@ghostfacekill-monger @l-auteuse @soulfood-fics @tgigoldie @shaekingshitup @thickemadame @mskirara @mdmecjskywalker @savagescorpion @teardropzih @chaneajoyyy @cyntgefel01 @jamielennkeeler @peacefuldesiress @aislinnsilver @musically-hypnotised @ju5tp34chy @luna8819 @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @zeckharyah @lovesunnyandmary @taziaartsy

#lakeith stanfield #lakeith stanfield x black reader #lakeith stanfield x !blackreader #lakeith stanfield movies #lakeith stanfield imagine #ari lennox #ari lennox music #ari lennox x black reader

130 notes · View notes

kiseki-no-scenarios · 4 years ago

Text

Akashi Seijuro - If Only - Chapter One

Here is the first chapter of the multi-chapter Akashi fic I am working on!! I’ve outlined the plot so I will try to update in a timely manner, but I often struggle with writing multi-chapter fics because they take longer time to do.

There will be heavy angst in this story, but rest assured that there will be a happy ending!! I hope you enjoy!

---

The sight of your majestic husband, now pale and with perspiration beading across his brow, laying in his bed brought you to your knees as you let out a sob, gripping onto his slackened hand with both of your own, unable to hide the tremor that rocked your body. Akashi’s body was trembling, his breathing stuttered and weak as he fought against the poison that was ravaging his body. You wanted to turn your eyes away from the living nightmare in front of you, but your eyes were committing each and every moment of his torture into your mind

Your knees ached as they hit the floor hard, the pain banished to the back of your mind as you took in the sight of Emperor Akashi, the crimson red of his robes a stark contrast against the deathly pallor of his skin. You had never seen your husband like this, and the fact that it was your fault drove your mind nearly to madness. It should have been you laying on the bed, fighting desperately, clinging to life.

You ignore the yelps of your ladies in waiting as they tried to move you up to your feet, ignoring their attempts at placing a cushion underneath you. The pain was barely a fraction of the guilt that you felt, and you wanted to cast your entire body across your husband, hiding him from all the torture and pain of the tangible world. Surely, this was just a dream, right?

Your fingers gripped his hand as you murmured his name, Seijuro, Seijuro dripping past your lips like a mantra as you pressed the back of your hand against your forehead. How you wished you could transfer to him your very own life energy, so that he his wounded flesh would stitch together again in front of your eyes, chasing the poison that gripped his body.

The chattering of the many doctors and government officials in your husband’s room all faded to the background as you looked into the eyes of the only man you had ever loved, would ever love in this lifetime and all the ones that would follow. His chest was still rising and falling, that he was still hanging on to life-but the thread was oh so fragile, apt to snap with even the smallest of pressures.

The flow of blood from puncture wound of the cursed arrow where it had pierced his back through his chest had finally been staunched, but the polluted miasma of the curse spilled out in waves, barely visible to the eye. The poison that was coursing through his veins was working slowly, but steadily and unrelenting.

At this rate, they said he only had a few days, if that.

The wounds that he had suffered from battle were relatively light, and Akashi was to recover quickly, they estimated. The war had been won easily, and you were excited to have your husband back home, for the two of you to continue with your lives together. It had been too long since Akashi had held you in his arms, too long since his lips had pressed against yours. Pacing in the entrance hall, you recalled the feeling of excitement and relief as you heard the triumphant sounds of the army returning home, lead by the crimson Emperor who had lead them all to victory.

It had been yearning that you could no longer hold back as you watched him cross the threshold back to your home, the palace. Without thought for your own safety or his, you had rushed to him, wanting to take him into your arms.

But Akashi was always alert, and his senses never failed. You’d never even heard the arrow coming, only being aware of its presence when it had burst through Akashi’s chest, in a brilliant blossoming of bloody red that quickly stained his armor.

The arrow that was meant for you had lodged itself within Akashi’s body, and you’d never forget that moment for as long as you lived, the images flashing behind your eyelids every single moment that you closed your eyes. It was as if that moment was tattooed, etched permanently into your flesh, a never-ending reminder of what your impatience had wrought. Perhaps if you had waited, perhaps if you had stood where you were…surely, your husband would have reacted soon enough to dispose of the archer, without flinging his body in front of yours like a shield.

Midorima cleared his throat behind you, and turning, you immediately began to sob at the look on his face. “No, no, no…”

Shaking his head, Midorima uttered the words that caused your heart to seize. “I’ve brought the True Loves End.”

“You…you lie, there HAS to be an antidote.” Your voice is shaky, but you know your words are futile. You were a healer, well versed in the art of medicine. One look at Akashi’s wound, and you knew that the antidote was not something you could easily compound in the limited time you had left.

The curse itself had been altered, a task that required the use of dark magic. As this particular poison and it’s resulting curse almost guaranteed death, it required an offering of the same cost.

Your assassin had murdered an innocent life to target your own.

“Your Highness, you and I both know that there is simply no way we can acquire the antidote. Even if we were to slaughter each and every one of those rebels, that would still not give us the solution we desire.”

“I don’t care!” You screamed, terror and rage breaking through your desperation, clawing up your throat. “Kill…Kill them all!” You turned to Aomine. “Why are you just standing there, Daiki?!”

The dark haired male gripped the handle of his sword hard, refusing to meet your eyes. “The Emperor is still my direct command, your Highness.”

“I. Don’t. Care.” You hissed, shooting to your feet as you lunged at the Commander, your magical energy gathering in your palms, responding to the pained call of your heart. “I demand that you raze them all to the ground. Not a single one is to be left standing, or I will strike you down right where you stand!” Going haywire, your magic was lashing out, burning Mibuchi’s hands as he held you back. Your magic, normally meant to calm and heal was reacting to your emotions, daring anyone to get close lest you strike them down where they stand.

“_____.”

Your head whips around, another sob breaking through at the sight of Akashi, his face turned towards you. His hand was lifted in your direction, his palm facing upwards. “My beloved Empress, please. It hurts me to see you so enraged and filled with hate.” A soft smile was on Akashi’s lips, looking at you with adoration although you knew just how much pain he was suffering through. Even at a time like this, his first instinct was the comfort you.

“What am I supposed to feel, Seijuro?” You lash out, losing all sense of composure as you cover your face with your hands. “Never have I felt so much rage…I would burn this world to the ground for you, Seijuro.” You felt utterly useless. Akashi had done so much for you throughout your life, yet you always felt that nothing you could do would be able to repay him for all the happiness he had brought to you. For your loved ones and your dear friends, you’d die for them…but for Akashi, you’d kill for him.

Your vision is blurry as you continue to sob. You vaguely feel Mibuchi shushing you quietly, leading you back to Akashi’s bedside as he holds your hand. You can feel the rough callouses of his palm and fingertips, from years of practice with the sword and bow. There was still strength to the way he gripped your hand, his thumb rubbing gentle circles over the back of your hand. The delicate affection of Akashi’s touch only made you want to cry harder.

“Remember who you are, _____.” Akashi says, his voice gaining strength as he watches you, adoration in his eyes. “You love this country, more than I do. Your hands, your magic, are meant to heal. Please, do not dirty your hands for me, my love.”

Your magic settles in response, too afraid to lash out in fear that you would worsen his wounds. “…You always said that you’d do anything for me, Seijuro.” You whisper, leaning forward, pressing your forehead to his as he closes his eyes. “Why can’t you let me do that for you…?”

“I know you better than anyone. Even if you feel nothing but anger right now, I know you would soon regret your actions. And nothing would kill me to see you drowning in guilt.” Dry lips press to yours as you continue to seek out his kisses. “Besides…You’ll scare Seiji.”

The mention of your son brings the pieces of your mind back together slightly. Rubbing your eyes, you pull back from your husband as you look around the room, noticing that most of the crowd had dispersed, leaving only your closest confidants and guards behind. “Seiji…is he here?”

“He’s outside with Nebuya. I didn’t know if you wanted him to see you quite yet…” Kise bit his lip, the normally cheerful blonde frowning and his lips trembling as he held back the emotion that threatened to burst through.

Thank god your ten-year-old son didn’t see his father struck by the arrow. You couldn’t bear it if your son had to bear witness to the nightmare that you had seen, knowing how fragile his heart and mind was. He was as intelligent and strong as his father, often referred to as a perfect copy of the Emperor. But you knew that your son had a soft heart, like you.

“Please, keep watch over him for now.” You nod your head gratefully at Kise. You weren’t sure if you could keep your composure completely yet, and Seiji needed his mother to be there for him, without collapsing into hysterics.

The sound of Akashi coughing brings you back to the situation at hand, and you eye the bottle of medicine that Midorima has set down on the table side. You weren’t sure what was worse…in your eyes, it was just as much of a poison, if not more, than the current one that wracked Akashi’s body.

True Loves End…An antidote that could cure any poison, but at great cost. While the receiver’s memory would be spared, their emotions would not; all of their feelings of love and desire would be robbed from them.

Akashi would live, but you were not strong enough to imagine a world where your husband did not smile at you, did not embrace you, much less one where you wold be without his love.

To you, that felt like a death sentence more than any other.

“…Will you take it?” You whisper, closing your eyes out of fear. It was at times like this that you realized the full weight of what it meant to rule a country, to take upon the needs of the many before the needs of ones own.

“…You may think of me terribly selfish, but I do not want to.” Akashi states, his lips kissing your eyelids as he gently asks you to open them, gazing into his beautiful, crimson orbs. “I want to live my final moments, with all the love I have for you. I want you to be the very last thing I see in this world, my love. But…”

You knew what he was going to say. You knew, just by looking at him, and as much as you wanted to close your ears and hide from the world, you had to see it through.

“I want you to choose, _____. I have been selfish many, many times in my life. You have always been selfless, giving so much to me and to our people.” Akashi smiles at you. “I know this is a terrible burden upon you, but please…My Empress, please be selfish with what you want.”

“Don’t ask me, Seijuro…” Your voice is raspy, dry and hoarse from all the crying. “You know what I want to say, what my heart wants…”

You wanted the same thing. You wanted all of Akashi’s love, until his very last breath. But you were not just a woman, and Akashi was not just a man. He was an Emperor, and you were an Empress.

If Akashi were not to survive…your son was not ready to take the throne. The country would be thrust into a period of post-war instability, and try all you would, you knew that you alone did not have the power to guarantee peace. The answer was not simple, and it felt like claws were dragging themselves down your chest as you came to grips with what had to be done.

“You asked me to be selfish…but I can’t.” Your voice trembles as your mouth speaks the words that your heart did not want, but your mind was clear. “Not with the lives of millions in the balance. Not with the stability of our country on our shoulders…You know what my answer is, Seijuro. You’ve known from the beginning.”

Akashi smiles peacefully. “I did. That is why you are my Empress.”

If only I was just a woman, and you were only just a man.

You couldn’t be weak. Not when Akashi was suffering the most of them all.

Wiping away your tears with the sleeves of your robes, you lay the palm of your hand over Akashi’s forehead, allowing the soothing healing magic to lull him into a restful sleep. Right now…he needed to rest, to conserve the strength he still had left.

Akashi held your gaze until his eyes finally closed, the even rising and falling of his chest confirming that he was asleep. You gently tuck his arm underneath his blanket, kissing his forehead before finally pulling back and rising to your feet.

“Daiki…I’m sorry for threatening to strike you down.” You murmur. “It was said out of anger.”

“I understand, your Highness.”

“Reo, I’ll get you some cream for your burns later.” You walk over towards the door, hearing your bodyguard following after you.

“I don’t mind, having some scars may make me more attractive to the ladies.” You appreciated Reo’s attempts to lighten you mood, but you could only manage a weak smile in reply.

Opening the door, your gaze immediately falls upon your son, crouched in the hallway. “Seiji…”

“Mother!” Seiji immediately locks gazes with yours, and your heart clenches in pain at the way he looks so much like his father. “How is father…?”

“All will be fine. Seiji, what have I told you about your posture?” You gently chide him, taking his hand in yours. “Come, let us walk in the garden.”

Seiji follows you obediently as you lead the two of you to the Emperor’s private gardens. Normally, the sight would easily bring you peace and relaxation, but you felt far from that at the moment.

“Seiji…do you remember what I’ve told you about being a ruler?”

“Yes. We must sacrifice for our people, as that is who our powers are to be used for.” Seiji replies, his crimson orbs meeting yours.

“Your father is going to sacrifice something very, very dear.” Holding both of his hands in yours, you look down at your son. Soon, his height would overtake yours.

You observed Seiji’s face for any signs of his reaction. You tried to keep your tears together, but at the sight of your son, trying so hard to keep his gaze composed you reached forward, pulling him into your embrace.

Your arms tightened around him, and you cried, for your son, for your husband, and for you.

“Seiji…I promise, your mother will give you all the love in the world.” You sob. Your son’s shoulders were still small, and his small shoulders would soon have to carry the burden of the world upon them. “I will love you, enough for both your father and I.”

“Mother…”

Seiji’s voice is lost to the wind as you cry into your son’s shoulder, your heart preparing for the dark days to follow.

To be continued--

Want a special fic of your own? Commission me here!

Masterpost

Send me a request!

Support me on Ko-fi!

#knb #kuroko no basuke #akashi seijuro #akashi seijuro x reader #angst #multichapter #if only fic

67 notes · View notes

sylvari-bouquet · 4 years ago

Text

@majestic-salad Happy Holidays and Merry Wintersday! I was your secret santa, and here's a little fic of Aisling and Canach having sibling time, I hope you like it!

"No, you need to do it again, from the beginning", Canach said, reading the words that had had barely time to dry on the paper. His voice wasn't one of judgement, merely stating a fact, but it still made Aisling frown.

"What? Why?" she asked an answer, "I copied the text perfectly, it looks fine to me?"

"Too many mistakes. Here, you missed a stroke. Here, the letter is facing a wrong direction. And here, this one is too unclear and can be mixed with several other letters", Canach pointed out every one of them, and Aisling huffed in frustration.

"That's just unfair!"

The two sylvari were inside a one-room place in Amnoon, one that Canach rented for himself while he had been living there. It had sparse decoration and minimal amount of furniture, yet it was sturdy and well-made. Aisling was sitting in front of a large wooden table, while Canach stood next to her, pointing out the letters and phrases in the paper she had written just a moment ago. Piles of books laid open before them, subject matters varied from biographies of nobles Aisling had never heard of and legal notes of seemingly familiar court cases to captains' logs of sunken ships and history tomes that would make any Priory member jealous. Aisling wondered where in the world Canach had found this collection of mismatched literature. And more importantly, why were there zero adventure or romance books in them!

"You may have learnt to read by now, but it means little if you are not also able write properly. How did you even do the paperwork in Pact?"Canach asked.

"I didn't", Aisling pouted, crossing her hands over her chest, "but no matter that! Why couldn't have we started with an easier text? This human history stuff is just too complex! There's so many names, too! I want to write something that doesn't bore me to death!"

"Just be glad I didn't pick up the Rata Sum's monthly scientific updates", Canach answered with a one-sided smile, "saw that one on sale before I left Lion's Arch. Or would you care some local Joko propaganda instead?"

Aisling answered charmingly by showing her tongue. Certainly, she'd rather be outside exploring the city and the surrounding area with her raptor, but she had asked Canach to teach her to write, so she had no choice in the matter. She knew that her older brother was right, as annoying it was to admit it.

What had surprised Aisling was how patient teacher the ex-criminal was. Despite being stern and pedantic, and lot more sarcastic than the menders in Grove, he never made Aisling feel bad about her lack of skill, and he didn't react badly to Aisling's frustration over the shapes of letter that her chalk refused to replicate on the board she was holding. In a way, he was just what she needed in a teacher, someone who could help her focus and not see her merely as the commander.

"Thank you, Canach", Aisling said in the middle of writing down a list of cargo that had likely disappeared in the depths of the ocean by now.

"What for?" Canach asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You know, taking your time to teach me all this stuff", Aisling said, "it's really nice of you. Not a lot of people would do that, or even think about it."

Canach looked like he was about to say something, but stopped himself. Instead, he continued:

"Look, I have my bets on you, so this is just making sure I have a decent chance to collect them later. Now, I am starving, how about we head out to find something to eat after you finish that?"

Aisling beamed as she rejoiced: "Yes!" Despite the pricklish outside, Canach definitely had a soft spot for her, and Aisling couldn't ask for a better brother.

Some months later, a letter addressed to Canach arrived. It looked a little worse for wear, but it was still sealed even after its rough journey. Inside it read:

Dear Canach,

I hope this letter finds you well. It must be a quite surprise to get a letter from me, but I've had a lot of time to practice my writing in Eye of North, and truth to be told, it's kinda boring out here. We're just waiting for something to happen, and you know I'm not really patient one. I know Aurene means well by being cautious, especially after what happened with Bagnar, but I'm all healed up!

How is the desert? And the city? I think you wouldn't like it here, it's really cold, especially at night. I love staying up during the night when it's coldest, and I can spot auroras! They are really pretty! You should come over to see them some time! Just remember to dress in warm clothes!

From your sis, Aisling

#gw2 #gw2 wintersday gift exchange

8 notes · View notes

anistarrose · 4 years ago

Text

Fear The Reaper A Lot, Actually - Chapter 5

AO3

Summary: It’s time for the hunt to resume. Noelle makes a promise, Kravitz conducts an interview, Taako plans a séance, and Barry makes a friend.

Characters: Kravitz, Taako, Barry Bluejeans, Angus McDonald, Magnus Burnsides, Merle Highchurch, Noelle | No-3113, The Raven Queen, The Director | Lucretia, misc. BoB cameos, Julia Burnsides

Relationships: Taakitz, Angus McDonald & Taako, Barry Bluejeans & Kravitz, Kravitz & Angus McDonald

Sorry for the late update! I was sick on Tuesday and Wednesday, and then on Thursday I decided to focus entirely on losing my mind over the new TAZ episode, so that means it’s time for a rare Friday chapter. Lots of stuff is happening in this chapter, so hopefully it was worth the wait!

(Also, I normally don’t write the chapter titles on tumblr for this fic because it makes the title section of the post look cluttered, but this one is called “me and the boys at 2 am looking for jeans.” Just really wanted to make sure you were all aware of that fact.)

***

Long past the curfew established by the Reclaimers’ training routine, at the hour of night when the moonbase��s artificial lights dimmed and the bonfires on the planet below faded away, four pairs of eyes watched Avi from the shadows. A murmur of excitement escaped from behind one of the glass spheres when he yawned and checked his watch, followed by a chorus of disappointed sighs when he slapped himself across the face and set back to work unloading a new supply shipment, but he didn’t seem to notice them over the muffled roar of high-altitude winds.

Finally, a passenger sphere floated back into the port and the Bureau’s three top Regulators disembarked, back from a planetside drill that had run long. From her perch on Killian’s shoulder, Carey leaned down to affectionately slap Avi on the back, and he quickly accepted her invitation to join their gang for drinks at the Chug ‘N Squeeze. As Avi led the way out of the port, Carey and Killian hot on his heels while Noelle followed more distantly, there was much hushed rejoicing among their shadowy, impatient observers.

“Finally,” Taako huffed. “I was starting to think he was pulling an all-nighter.”

After checking one last time to make sure the coast was clear, Angus stepped out of his hiding place and reached for the door of the transport sphere, but Magnus grabbed ahold of him by the collar of his shirt.

“Sorry, little guy, but you’re staying behind this time.”

Angus opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again, at a loss for words for the first time since he’d started speaking in complete sentences at age fourteen months.

“It’s nothing personal, Agnes — we just need someone to stay behind and distract Avi if he comes back before we do,” Taako explained. “And no one can resist all your nosy questions once you get going, so you’re the perfect accomplice!”

“I can think of a few people who can resist it,” Merle scoffed. “Number one, me.”

Magnus ignored them both, kneeling down to look at Angus in the eyes. “Ango, if I’m being honest… we had some close calls last time, and that was in a cave where we honestly weren’t expecting to find anything besides a clue or two if we were lucky. Tonight, we’re going to try and get a lich’s attention, so this morning, we all sat down and talked about it and agreed we’ll feel better if you’re safe up here.”

Taako sighed. “Gee, way to let the kid know we actually care about him. Now his ego’s gonna grow until it’s bigger than mine, and then where will I be?”

“It’s okay, sir. I’m sure you and Merle will still find ways to keep me humble.” Angus managed a smile.

“Stay safe, all right?”

“That’s the spirit!” Merle laughed, as Magnus picked him up and placed him inside the sphere. “Now hurry up and set the trajectory, Taako. Barry Bluejeans isn’t gonna arrest himself —”

“Please, hang on just a second!”

Four heads whirled around to face the port’s exit hallway, where Noelle was floating.

“It’s just me, don’t worry!” she assured them, noticing Magnus and Angus’s guilty expressions and Merle and Taako’s panicked ones. “I won’t let the Director hear a peep of this, I promise — but if you’re going after Mr. Bluejeans, I’d like to come with you. If you’ve got room in that sphere, of course.”

“Well, the scale of this lich hunting team is rapidly veering past ‘secret club’ and careening into ‘elaborate conspiracy,’ but… I guess this whole bargain is about your life too, isn’t it?” Magnus thought out loud. “Taako, Merle, are you guys alright with this?”

“A ghost would know where to find another ghost better than any of us would, right?” Merle asked, and Taako shrugged.

“Then welcome to the lich-hunting conspiracy, Noelle,” Magnus declared.

On her way to the sphere, Noelle patted Angus on the head, surprisingly gentle despite her heavy robot arms. “Sorry, pal. I didn’t mean to replace you.”

“It’s okay, ma’am,” Angus told her. “I know you’re better in fights than I am, so… just be sure to keep them safe, okay? And if you get a chance, could you ask Barry if our theory about the Voidfish was right?”

Noelle’s face display flickered, somehow expressing a determined smile with just a few dozen lit-up pixels. “I’ll do my best, I promise.”

***

There were many reasons for a soul not to join the others in the Astral Sea, but most often, it was because they were waiting for someone. Luckily, the person Kravitz wished to speak with was one such soul, so he was able to find her in only a matter of minutes.

There was only one island in the Astral Sea with a cottage on it, after all.

Though expertly constructed, it was clearly unfinished, lacking a door, roof, or windows — so Kravitz knocked on the cedar doorframe, and waited outside for the house’s occupant to respond. Just seconds later, a tall woman with a bandana tied around her hair met him at the doorway, smiling sadly and shaking her head as she laid eyes on Kravitz.

“Oh. You’re the emissary of the Raven Queen. I’m sorry, I — I wasn’t sure if I was hoping or fearing that you were someone else.”

“I understand.” Kravitz said softly. “You’re Julia Waxmen-Burnsides, right?”

“That’s right.” Julia offered him a calloused hand. “Nice to meet — er, formally meet you, Death.”

“Death is my mother. Call me Kravitz,” Kravitz replied as he accepted the handshake, and Julia chuckled.

“Okay, Kravitz. What brings you over to my humble island?”

***

“Well, this spot should be as good as any,” Taako announced, kicking a pebble across the black glass circle that once was Phandalin. “Magnus, did you bring the sacrificial denim?”

“Sure did!” Magnus held up a pair of freshly purchased jeans. “Also some candles, and an ouija board that Carey helped me steal from Leon the other day as part my rogue lessons.”

“Tell Carey that gaslighting Leon is my job, and she needs to quit infringing on my brand.” Taako pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket, tried and failed to draw a circle on the glass, then conjured a paintbrush instead and started painting a pentagram.

Meanwhile, Noelle drifted around haphazardly, the lights on her face growing dim. “It’s… it’s so empty here. I was bracing myself for ruins, for bodies… but there’s just nothin’ left. I can’t even remember where the bar was, or the hotel, or the stables…”

Merle looked away. “Sorry we dropped the ball on this one, Noelle…”

“S’alright. You made up for it in the lab last week, with the savin’ the world and negotiating for my soul an’ all.”

“Well, don’t get too comfortable in your robot body, ‘cause we might not have much time left in the living world if Barry doesn’t show tonight.” Taako placed the jeans in the center of the pentagram, then lit them on fire. “But I think this’ll get his attention. Everyone, come join hands!”

Magnus kneeled and took Taako and Noelle’s hands, while Merle stood up on his tiptoes to do the same.

“You’ve done this before, right?” Merle whispered.

“Plenty of times.” Taako summoned a Mage Hand and adjusted his scarf to cover his nose and mouth, as the fire in the center of their circle intensified. “Noelle? Would you do the honor of reaching out for us?”

“Uh, I’ve never been to a séance quite like this one. Maybe you’d be the better one to —”

“Barry, you asshole! Too much of a coward to show your face!” Merle shouted. “Heard about how I banished Legion and got the heebie-jeebies, didja?”

The ruins of Phandalin fell eerily silent, aside from the quiet crackling of the fire.

“Sorry. Still not detecting any liches,” Noelle reported.

“Well, being a dick didn’t work,” Merle muttered. “Shoulda brought some booze and thrown a party — maybe that would get his lazy ass’s attention.”

“I’m pretty sure liches can’t drink, Merle,” Noelle told him. “And honestly, now that I’m thinkin’ about it, I can’t imagine why Barry would be obligated to haunt this here town just ‘cause it’s where he died. Are y’all sure this is the best place to look for him?”

“Positive,” said Taako, but Magnus spoke over him.

“Maybe we should widen our search area. Quick, what other places would be significant to Barry?”

“How ‘bout the cave where he got his ass kicked?” Merle suggested. “You know, the place where we met G’larg or whatever his name was.”

Magnus let go of Taako and Noelle’s hands to fan the air in front of him. “Well, a hike sure sounds better than standing around inhaling denim fumes, I’ll give you that.”

Taako extinguished the blaze then cast Phantom Steed, and Garyl manifested atop the embers of the fire, rearing into a majestic pose. “Hiking’s for chumps. Garyl and I will race you there!”

***

Julia led Kravitz inside the cottage, which smelled pleasantly of cedar and lavender, and motioned for him to sit down in one of two rocking chairs. She sat in the other, crossing her legs and absentmindedly rocking back and forth.

“So, Maggie went and got on the Raven Queen’s bad side, did he?”

“Not permanently, I’m hoping,” Kravitz replied. “I don’t know him as well as you, but he and his fellow death criminal associates don’t strike me as anything like the usual bounties I hunt. I was hoping you could testify on his moral character, and maybe also shed some light on how he cheated death, because he sure doesn’t seem to know.”

“Well, he’s survived some close battles — but I assume you’re looking for necromancy, not near-death experiences.” Julia drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. “And I know Magnus is no necromancer.”

“I figured as much. Did he know any necromancers, though?”

Julia shook her head. “No. He’ll stand up to any authority figure if he believes they’re abusing their power, but that’s not because he just walks around looking for rules to break — it’s ‘cause he can’t stand injustice. He’s a good man, and I can’t imagine him throwing his lot in with a lich or someone like that to flaunt the laws of life and death…”

Her voice trailed off. “Do you know how long ago these so-called crimes happened?” she asked.

“They all registered in our system at once, about twelve years ago. Needless to say, I’m assuming he didn’t die 19 distinct times within minutes of each other, so there must’ve been some warding that was previously hiding him from our detection. We’ve seen that kind of thing before, although never quite to the same extent.”

“Twelve years ago was before I knew him,” Julia admitted. “I’m not sure I even know where he was living or what he was doing twelve years ago.”

“Forgive me changing the topic, but are his parents still alive? Or any siblings, aunts, uncles?”

“He was an only child, and his parents passed away before I knew him — I think he was an adult at the time, but barely, so… that would’ve been thirteen, fourteen years ago, maybe? He never told me how they died and I never pressed him, so — wait a second, you’re the Grim Reaper. Shouldn’t you know exactly who’s dead and who isn’t?”

“I really should,” Kravitz agreed, “and that’s the problem, actually. I can’t find any relatives of Magnus in the registry of deceased souls — no parents, no grandparents, no cousins…”

“You only found people who were Magnus’s family by marriage,” Julia realized out loud. “That’s why you came to talk to me.”

Kravitz nodded. “Exactly — but it gets even weirder. Magnus’s fellow adventuring buddies and apparent death criminals are an elf named Taako and a dwarf named Merle, whom I don’t suppose you know —”

Julia gasped, not in recognition, but in dawning realization. “Don’t tell me you can’t find their families, either.”

“All I found for Merle were some fourth cousins, and equally distant relatives. I couldn’t find anything about Taako.”

“The plot sure has thickened, huh?” Julia muttered. “You’re right that I don’t know Merle or Taako, they must’ve been… you know, after my time. But I can swear to you, if this is some kind of — some kind of necromantic conspiracy, then Magnus is the victim, not the one behind it. He could not and would not plan something like this for years while keeping it a secret all this time. He wouldn’t have hid it from me or from Steven —”

“I believe you,” Kravitz told her, “and I believe Magnus, when he says he genuinely doesn’t know how he died nineteen times. But because I believe you, and because I think you’re right on the mark with regards to a necromantic conspiracy, I have one last question: have you ever heard the names Lup or Barry Bluejeans?”

Julia snorted quietly at the latter name, but shook her head. “No. Are they… necromantic conspiracy suspects?”

“You could say that. More specifically, they’re liches whom we first detected around the same time as Magnus. At the time, I assumed it was a coincidence, but now… well, there a few different first impressions of Magnus and his adventuring buddies that I’m reevaluating.”

“Tell me about it. That man contains multitudes.” Julia leaned back in her rocking chair. “If there’s anything else I can do to help exonerate Maggie — any questions or testimony you need — I’m sure you’ll be able to find me here for a long, long time, but… can I ask something of you, if it’s alright?”

“Depends. What is it?”

“Can you help me send a letter?”

***

For the first few hundred feet of the race, Noelle kept up with Taako via her rocket boosters, but then opted to save her fuel, and Garyl surged ahead towards the mountains.

“Eat my dust!” Garyl whinnied. “I’m gonna find those oatssss!”

“Liches, Garyl. We’re looking for liches,” Taako reminded him.

“Yeah, but liches always have some loose spectral oats in their robe pockets!” Garyl scaled the foothills with ease, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. “Sometimes they even give me spectral sugar cubes! Why dontcha ever hang out with liches anymore?”

Taako yanked on the reins. “Excuse me?”

“You haven’t given me sugar cubes in decades,” Garyl moaned as they came to a halt. “Or even spectral carrots.”

Taako dismounted, turning away from the face of the mountain to look at Garyl in his iridescent rainbow eyes. “You gonna elaborate ‘bout me allegedly hanging out with liches, pal?”

“What is there to elaborate about? You used to hang with liches, and then you just —” Suddenly, Garyl’s eyes went wide. “Look out! Above you!”

Taako dismissed Garyl with a wave of his hand, and the binicorn disappeared in a flash of rainbow smoke. “Yeah, no, I’m not buying that. You’re just pulling my leg again —”

He turned around slowly and casually, not expecting to see anything out of the ordinary — only to find himself facing a crumbling mountainside, dozens of massive boulders already rolling on a trajectory straight towards him.

He instinctively raised his Umbra Staff, only to freeze up, no idea what spell he could cast in time to save himself — but then something in his peripheral vision flashed red, and not a full second later, he was standing atop a distant hill, a hundred meters away from the site of the rockslide.

“Are you okay?” a voice behind him rasped. “I didn’t mean to startle you — I know you probably had it under control, but I — I just panicked. Sorry.”

Taako turned around to face a familiar red-robed specter, two vaguely eye-shaped lights under his hood looking Taako over.

“You know, I was actually pretty un-startled until you popped up behind me and started rasping in my ear! Let an elf have his personal space, Barold!”

“What?” The lights beneath Barry’s hood froze in place, as did every thread of his robe, paralyzed in spite of the gentle breeze. The rasp in his voice dissipated as he went on: “Taako, how much do you remember?!”

Taako blinked. “Remember?”

“Talk to me, Taako! Please!” Barry grabbed Taako by the shoulders, incorporeal hands trembling. “Do you remember your sister? Do you remember Lup?”

“Ugh, that sound! Why do you have to do that right in my face?” Taako shrugged off Barry’s barely-tangible grip, clapping his hands over his ears.

“You heard static?” Barry gasped. “Oh, no. No. I thought —”

“You bet I just heard the worst five seconds of ASMR ever! What do you want from me, man? All I know about Lup is that she’s a lich like you, ‘cause that’s all Kravitz could tell me —”

“Kravitz told you about us?!”

“Yeah, he did! Told me you two were his most elusive bounties, and that I could never let my guard down around you!” Taako reached into the quiver slung over his shoulder, pulling out a sapphire arrow. “And I think it’s about time I gave him a heads up that you’re hanging out right here, soul ready for reaping —”

“Do NOT summon Kravitz!” Just seconds before Taako plunged the arrow into the ground, Barry tore it out of his hand and hurled it through a rift. “Why the fuck would you summon Kravitz?!”

Taako’s grip tightened on his Umbra Staff, and Barry recoiled. The lights under his hood looked like they were melting, shedding glowing droplets that cascaded down some semblance of a face within the void.

“Taako, please,” Barry pleaded. “I’m not your enemy, and — and Lup isn’t either, I swear! She wouldn’t want this!”

Taako raised the Umbra Staff to cast, but no spell fired from the umbrella as it shuddered in his hand.

“You can’t listen to what Kravitz tells you — he doesn’t know why we became liches! He doesn’t know about the Hunger!” Barry’s robe was fraying before Taako’s eyes, crimson threads unraveling at the edges of his sleeves. “What if — what if he thinks you’ve cheated death? What if he sends you to the Eternal Stockade?! Taako, I’m begging you, I — I — I don’t know what I would do if I lost you too!”

Taako cast again, and the Umbra Staff still refused to fire, the beginnings of a spell entering his arcane focus on one end but never leaving it on the other. As Barry drifted closer, sparks jumping between stray red threads and face a mess of swirling light and shadow, Taako turned to his last resort — stalling for time.

“You know, Kravitz was thinking real hard about sending me to ghost jail the other day, but I convinced him not to. Don’t you want to hear my side of the story?”

Barry froze, the unraveling of his robe momentarily halted. “In the Miller lab? What happened?!”

“We made a deal. He was going to arrest me, Magnus, Merle, Lucas, and Noelle — but I got an idea he liked better. I asked if he’d let us go free if we captured another bounty or two for him — so he gave us two months to capture you and Lup.” Taako shrugged, so focused on trying not to panic that he hardly noticed the sound of electricity crackling and fabric tearing. “So if you just turn yourself in, then at least you’ll only have to worry about me half as much.”

Barry convulsed as a jagged gash tore through his robe from shoulder to waist, an intangible darkness spilling out from within him and pooling on the ground below.

“LUP!” he shouted, voice echoing between mountains and through underground lairs for miles and miles. “They — they signed their own death warrant, Lup! I — I can’t do this without them, I can’t do this without you — where ARE YOU?!”

“Taako! There you are!”

Magnus sprinted onto the scene, Merle and Noelle hot on his heels. He thrust himself between Barry and Taako, then pulled a sapphire arrow from his own belt, jabbing it into the shadow-covered ground at Barry’s feet. “Kravitz, we’ve got a bounty for you!”

The lights beneath Barry’s hood coalesced back into two flickering eyes that immediately fixated on the arrow, which was already engulfed in a crackling blue aura.

“Boys, I promise I’m going to fix this,” he rasped, and then vanished into thin air.

“Wait, come back!” Merle called out, rushing towards the spot where Barry had been floating. “I didn’t even get a chance to talk to you —”

Taako yelped as his Umbra Staff inverted, and the arrow flew through the air towards its maw — but milliseconds before the umbrella snapped shut around it, Kravitz manifested in a puff of smoke, already dual-wielding sapphire scythes.

“Did you find Barry? Where is he?”

“He got away, I think,” Magnus sighed. “I probably shouldn’t have summoned you where he could see, but I rushed in because I was so worried about him hurting Taako —”

Noelle floated around Taako in tight circles, scanning him from all angles. “It doesn’t look he hurt you, but… I’m getting some traces of conjuration magic? Did you have a wizard’s duel or something?”

“Oh, god no. I probably wouldn’t be alive if we had,” Taako admitted. His heart was still pounding, but he tried not to let it show. “Conjuration magic, though… let’s see. That would probably be from when he — when he teleported me away from the mountain, after those rocks started falling.”

“Those rocks?” Noelle gestured towards the massive pile of rubble at the foot of the nearest mountain. “Those look like they could’ve killed you!”

“I know, right?” Taako replied. “Very uncharacteristically benevolent of him to show up when he did.”

“As great as it is that you’re not dead, Taako, it was also very convenient of him to show up when he did,” Kravitz paced across the hilltop, scythes crossed in front of him like the world’s most dangerous dowsing rods. “I can’t sense his presence anymore, meaning he’s squirreled himself away in some sort of warded hideout… but if he appeared out in the open here only shortly after you did, then that hideout of his must be nearby.”

He turned away from Taako, facing the mountains. “Which means he’s still nearby.”

Taako felt his hand grow warm, and looked down to see his Umbra Staff, energized from the absorption of the arrow… and pointing directly at Kravitz’s back.

“Let’s search the area.” Kravitz continued. “Leave no stone unturned —”

Taako pointed the Umbra Staff towards the sky — not a moment too soon. A beam of white-hot plasma pierced the clouds above and bathed the entire mountain range in daylight for a fleeting moment, before it fizzled out with a crackle of electricity and a whiff of ozone.

Kravitz whirled around. “Taako?!”

“I didn’t cast that spell! I don’t know how to cast that kind of spell!” Taako gasped. “My umbrella’s been acting up all night, but I didn’t know it could act up like this!”

Kravitz sighed and placed a hand on Taako’s shoulder.

“You know, on second thought,” he said, “maybe we should postpone the lich hunting until you get that thing checked out.”

***

Merle made a beeline for his bed the second the gang returned to the moonbase, while Taako took it upon himself to relay the night’s events to Angus as a bedtime story, and hopefully ensure that the kid actually got some sleep. Noelle had opted to stay planetside for a little longer and fly back up to the moon on her own later, explaining that she needed some time alone to process what had happened in Phandalin, and that left Magnus and Kravitz alone in the common room between the Reclaimers’ individual dorms.

“There’s no way Angus will relax enough to fall asleep in the next week if he hears about what happened tonight,” Magnus sighed, collapsing onto the couch. “Either Taako lies and says nothing happened, or he uses a sleep spell on a ten year old. You wanna make a bet on which?”

“I’ll pass. But you just reminded me, I actually have something for you.” Kravitz rifled through the interior pockets of his vest, pulling out a piece of shimmering blue paper. Although folded over on itself several times, it still felt almost intangibly thin, like parchment woven from cobwebs or even air itself.

Magnus raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “That better not be magical junk mail.”

Kravitz smiled, slowly shaking his head. “I spoke with someone in the Astral Plane today who had a lot of good things to say about you,” he explained. “She’s waiting to see you again, but hopes that day won’t come too soon, and… well, I haven’t read her letter, but I’m sure it speaks for itself.”

Magnus accepted the paper gingerly, eyes tearing up as he unfolded it to reveal Julia’s handwriting.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Kravitz plucked a raven feather from his robe, transmuting it into a quill pen with a snap of his fingers before handing it to Magnus. “I don’t allow this kind of thing every day, so don’t go around telling too many people about it — but you can use this pen to write a response on the back. Fold it up again once you’re done, and it’ll make its way back to her.”

Magnus leapt up from the couch to crush Kravitz in a hug that would’ve knocked the air out of his lungs, had he still been alive and breathing.

“Thank you,” Magnus repeated. “Thank you —”

Taako barged into the room, Umbra Staff slung over his shoulder. “You wanna guess what ‘cha boi had to do to get the kid to go to sleep? I’ll give you a hint, it wasn’t — okay, what am I interrupting here?”

A joke no doubt on the tip of his tongue, he froze as he noticed the tears running down Magnus’s face. “You okay there?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” Magnus let go of Kravitz, wiping his eyes and picking up the pen and letter again. “I — I’ll be in my room. I need some time to… I just need some time.”

Taako nodded. “Don’t forget to get some sleep yourself. Apparently you humans need, like, eight hours of it, go figure.”

“He’ll be alright,” Kravitz whispered to Taako, as Magnus closed the door to his room. “He just got a letter from someone he hadn’t heard from in a while.”

“‘Course he’ll be alright. He’s Magnus, he’s indestructible,” Taako replied, but Kravitz could hear the relief in his voice. “And in case you were wondering, the way to get Angus to fall asleep is to read him a detective story, but only as a distraction while you’re preparing a Sleep spell.”

Kravitz chuckled. “You know, speaking of distracting — what’s with that flashing Chug ‘N Squeeze sign on the moon campus? I don’t think it was there when I visited you the other day.”

“Oh, that? I think it��s some kinda wine and pottery place — why, you wanna check it out? ‘Cause it’s supposed to open in a day or two, or so says all the hottest moon gossip.”

“Well, I mostly just asked out of morbid curiosity, but it does sound like something I could enjoy ironically — and maybe even unironically, as a break from all this lich hunting and detective work. Do you want to check it out with me?”

“Oh, a wine and clay vacation day with the Grim Reaper? That’s a hell yeah from Taako!”

***

The second Barry returned to his cave, he bolted straight for an unassuming chest beneath a pile of discarded scrolls and tattered jeans. Though it only occupied about two cubic feet, it was warded against everything from fire to water to acid, and sealed with an arcane lock — which Barry dismissed by uttering the passcode, emergency bonds.

From inside, he retrieved a handful of trinkets — a driftwood necklace from Merle, a wand that Magnus had once unsuccessfully tried to summon a dog familiar with, and most important of all, a dozen different wedding rings, all hewn from different materials and given in different ceremonies on entirely different worlds. Barry picked up the envelope beneath them and then gingerly placed them back in the chest, opening the envelope to look through the pictures it contained.

The shadowy essence of his lich form had stopped leaking out of his robe the second he’d opened the chest and been comforted with the wave of nostalgia, but he felt his soul stabilize even further as he pulled out the first picture. It was a candid shot of him, Lup, and Taako in the Starblaster’s lab, buried up to their elbows in notes as they studied the Light of Creation, which the camera had only been able to capture as a vague white blur. The three of them all had bags under their eyes, but they were still smiling. They’d been so determined to develop a new theory, to find the answers that would save them and their family.

And there was no reason for Barry to abandon that determination or give up on that goal now.

For the next four hours, he scrawled calculations on almost every blank scrap of paper he had at his disposal, comparing research he’s done half a century ago with papers he’d read on cycles even further back. He unfurled no less than five individual maps of Faerun, circling promising locations before changing his mind and scratching out all but a few that he’d personally visited in the past.

By the time his plan was complete, almost all of the rips in his robe had mended themselves — though he still looked unsettlingly threadbare, and he trembled slightly even while floating in one place.

How long did Taako say they have? Two months, as of the crystal incident? There’s no need to panic — I’ve got time. I just need to play this smart.

He extended his senses outside of his lair, scanning the surrounding area for Kravitz or another emissary of the Raven Queen — and there was indeed an undead presence lurking near Phandalin, but unlike Kravitz, it lacked even the faintest trace of celestial energy. Even stranger, its aura seemed shielded, but less so than a lich possessing a living body would’ve been… as if the soul was inhabiting an inorganic body, instead.

The robot no doubt sensed him approaching, but gave no sign of signalling for help, which made Barry feel much better about his decision to venture out of the safety of his cave.

“Mister Bluejeans? That you?” she asked, and the sound of her voice was all it took for Barry to connect a series of dots that couldn’t have been further from his mind just a few moments ago.

“I know you. You were in the Cosmoscope — and before that, you were in Phandalin. You were a halfling.”

“That’s right. I’m Noelle — Noelle Redcheeck. I’m surprised you remembered me.”

“I’m surprised you’re not furious with me,” Barry whispered. “I couldn’t save you, or anyone else in Phandalin — I’m so sorry, Noelle. Maybe, maybe, if I’d been in my lich form, I could’ve —”

“You tried your best,” Noelle assured him, “just like the Reclaimers. Really, the only person I should blame is whoever made that terrifying gauntlet in the first place —”

“No,” Barry interrupted. “I knew her, and I knew how implausible this will sound, but she didn’t want this. She tried her best to stop it, too.”

Noelle took a moment to reply. “It sounds like you know a lot of things that the Bureau doesn’t.”

Barry nodded. “Speaking of which… I really shouldn’t stay out here in one place for much longer, or someone will sense me, be it the Bureau or Kravitz. Do you mind if we take this conversation somewhere else?”

“Just lead the way.”

They headed not to Barry’s main hideout, but to a slightly nearer cave that he used mainly for storage but had placed equally powerful wards over. Abjuration had never been his specialty, but his ability to pick it up on the fly had been invaluable during his time as a rogue lich — and now, he thought, my abjuring might be the one thing that saves my family’s lives. Funny how that works out.

“So, Noelle,” he asked out loud, “I saw you with Magnus and Merle earlier. Do they know you’re still down here?”

“I told them I wanted to stick around Phandalin for a while and think about what happened,” Noelle explained. “Which, come to think of it, wasn’t a total lie — because I did want to talk to you about Phandalin, and I guess I got that chance after all. But I’m also here because I promised my detective friend that I’d ask you something.”

“Assuming your friend’s alive, then they probably won’t even be able to comprehend the whole answer — but fire away, and I’ll tell you what I can.”

“Did the Voidfish erase the fact that you were a lich?”

“Getting right to the root of the problem, huh?” Barry paused. “Hmm. Let me put it this way — the Voidfish erased all memories that could make me believe I was a lich. Whenever I’m alive, whenever I’m amnesiac, the idea that I could be a lich or even a necromancer just sounds like a joke. I’ve tried leaving messages to remind myself of that fact, after coming back to life — but my living self never believed it.”

“It sounded like a joke to Magnus and the others, too.”

Barry sighed. “That’s ‘cause they’ve lost a lot of memories of their own.”

“But… they’re innoculated. How is that possible?”

“Noelle, we’re well past the point where I need to warn you about keeping this conversation a secret from the Bureau, right? And… probably from your detective friend, too, assuming they work for the Director?”

“Yeah,” Noelle sighed. “Angus will be disappointed, but I understand.”

“There’s a second Voidfish,” Barry explained. “It’s very well guarded, and only the Director’s been innoculated by it — so she’s used it to erase all kinds of information, from the Reclaimers’ pasts to… a coming storm, which this world is unlikely to survive.”

“This storm… will it be worse than the Grand Relics? Worse than what happened to Phandalin?”

“It’ll be not just worse, but maybe even infinitely worse. Because it’ll go on to destroy worlds beyond this one, if we let it.”

Barry had forgotten what it felt like to speak so freely about his past and the Hunger, to speak without worrying that his words would be distorted by static, and more and more information just poured out, far more than he’d initially intended to share.

“There is an entity called the Hunger that seeks to consume all of existence, and it’s only a matter of months until it begins its assault on this planar system. The Director and the Reclaimers and I, we were all like family, and we worked together in search of a way to destroy this Hunger, but… we had some disagreements. And really, neither side was right, but Lucretia — Lucretia used the Voidfish to erase our whole mission, the Hunger included. I became a lich to protect my family from the Hunger, so… when I’m alive, I don’t have any memory of being undead. And my family doesn’t have any memories of me… aside from that time in Phandalin when I got Merle to stab himself with a fork, I guess, which probably didn’t leave a great impression.” He managed a bitter laugh.

“How long ago did they forget?”

“Almost ten years ago.”

“I’m so sorry.”

It dawned on Barry that he was having most sincere, two-sided conversation he’d experienced in a decade — and ironically, the realization left him at a loss for words.

The same couldn’t be said of Noelle, who continued on without hesitation. “I promised my friend Angus not just that I’d get answers, but also that I’d look out for the Reclaimers. I don’t want the Grim Reaper, or the apocalypse, or whatever’s coming to hurt them — or anyone else in this world, like Angus, or Carey and Killian, or my family in Hogsbottom — so please, Mister Bluejeans, tell me what I can do to help. I want to do something with this extra time the Reclaimers gave me.”

“If you get caught helping me,” Barry warned her, “you’ll be imprisoned one way or another — either on the moonbase, or in the Eternal Stockade, depending on who catches you.”

“Well first of all, it sounds like at the rate I’m going, I’m gonna end up either back in the Astral Plane, or consumed by this Hunger entity in a matter of months if I don’t do anything to help you,” Noelle replied. “And second of all, I’m not plannin’ to just give up and let them arrest me if I do get caught.” She cocked her arm cannon.

Maybe it was risky to accept help from someone he barely knew, but Noelle had seemed nothing but sincere — and Barry had spent so long working alone that frankly, he was amazed it hadn’t killed him yet. He was a creature of bonds and of love; he sought out companionship by both nature and necessity. He didn’t know if he could do this alone, but alongside another undead soul who could actually understand and help, he knew for a fact that he could.

“Welcome aboard, Noelle.” Barry chuckled. “First things first: I’ve tried to stay out of the Raven Queen and her servants’ ways, because they’re really not evil at all, but if there’s any chance of stopping the Hunger, then we’ll need Taako and the others’ help for sure. Which means we’re going to have to do something about the Grim Reaper situation —”

“You know, I might have something to help with that.” A drawer Noelle’s main body slid open, revealing a sapphire-tipped arrow. “Magnus figured we should all have some summoning beacons on our person, in case of emergency.” She winked. “But I was thinkin’ we could use it to lure him into some kinda sinister trap.”

She paused. “He can’t eavesdrop on us through this thing, can he?”

“Not if we don’t say his name. But I’d close that drawer for now, just to be on the safe side.” Barry said as he summoned a scroll and pen, then started jotting down notes. “This is all perfect, though! I already hashed out the spell theory for a plan, but you just made it about a billion times easier to pull off — not just because of the arrow, but because you can gather components, and I won’t have to risk him sensing my location and realizing what I’m up to!”

“Makes sense,” Noelle replied, looking over Barry’s list. “That’s all you need me to get?”

“Yeah. I was thinking most of it would be salvageable from the Miller Lab — uh, except maybe the iron filings, which are commercially available anyway.”

Noelle beamed. “I won’t let you down, Mister Bluejeans.”

“Thank you, Noelle.” Barry looked down at his robe, which looked less tattered and more vibrantly red than he’d seen it in years. “For everything.”

***

End notes:

Apologies in advance if the update schedule gets a bit less consistent from here on out, since I’ve burned through my pre-written buffer chapters, but I’ve at least got a solid chunk of Chapter 6 written and a detailed outline for the chapters after that! It’s just about getting into the write headspace to write.

as usual, comments/reblogs mean a lot!

#taz #taz balance #taako taaco #kravitz taz #taakitz #barry bluejeans #no-3113 #angus mcdonald #magnus burnsides #merle highchurch #julia burnsides #lup taaco #fic: FTRALA #rosalia talks #taz balance spoilers

20 notes · View notes

aire101 · 4 years ago

Text

Ferrum Chapter 5

LINK TO FIC MASTER POST

A/N: Well, I'm definitely not winning Nanowrimo again this year, but I did get a chapter out earlier than previously, and hopefully I'll be updating again soon. Also, this chapter I attempted to briefly show different perspectives on the game being cleared, and both were based on what my own feelings would have been at two different points in my life, so don't come at me about it please. Take care of yourselves, and I hope you enjoy the chapter.

---

The Town of Beginnings had changed remarkably from three weeks ago. Sure, the buildings and streets were all the same, but the mood and tension in the air hung like a thick blanket over nearly every person within the walls. In sharp contrast, the NPC’s on the street continued to merrily hawk their wares and interact with those in the street, most of whom seemed to be ‘out of towners’ like themselves. From windows above, you could occasionally see a face peering down before a drape would be pulled closed again.

All in all, it was distinctly unsettling, but exactly what Tony had expected.

“I knew some would hole up in the starter town, but this is a bit more intense than I imagined,” said Peter, as they made their way towards an inn.

“Kid, almost two thousands people have died since this game began—two out of every ten people who started. In all honestly, I’m surprised how many of us have hit the ground running,” said Tony.

“I know, but turning into a complete shut-in seems a bit extreme. Its not like anything is going to attack you within the city’s Safe Zone…”

“You say that, but that assumption is born from an inherent trust of the system. A system that has already been previously hijacked and altered to trap us all here on the whim of a asshole with a god complex. Considering that, who do you really think is crazy? The ones who can’t bring themselves to trust the system to protect them, or the ones who do?” asked Tony.

“I guess when you put it that way, I see your point. But still, we’re probably going to be here for a while. Are they just planning on staying in one room for the next however many years?”

“I imagine some of them will eventually venture out and find their own niche in the world, even if it isn’t battling the local mobs. Some will start fishing, or hunting, mining, cooking… the skill list for the game is extensive. Some entrepreneurs will probably start opening player run businesses and establishments. But I doubt we’ll see much of that until the Level One Floor Boss is found and cleared. These people are stuck in the dark without a light, believing the system is rigged against them. They need to see proof of what’s possible, a light to guide them forward, before we’ll see any real progress here. And even then, there will still be some who never go further than the walls of this city,” said Tony. “The amount of specialized therapy everyone in this game will need afterward is going to make some psychologists rich.”

Ahead of them, Tony saw a sign for an inn and turned to Peter.

“You can go ahead and get us set up for the night. I’m going to go and find a tool shop and a smithy, see if I can add a durability upgrade. Do you need anything while I’m out?” asked Tony.

“Um… Maybe some more potions. I used the last one back in the West forest. Though god those things taste like dirty socks,” said Peter, checking his inventory.

“You know, if you stopped doing dumb crap like jumping between me and attacks you wouldn’t have this problem,” said Tony, with a dry tone and a distinctly unsympathetic expression.

“What’s the point of having each other’s back if I don’t guard it?” said Peter, completely unrepentant.

Tony threw up his hands as he turned and walked away, calling over his shoulder, “Potions it is!”

He didn’t have to look back, he could feel the boy’s eyes roll into his head.

As Tony worked his way towards the central market, he took in the graystone streets and buildings with ornate windows and battlements. Every so often he would come across small barren plazas with lovely fountains and flora, nearly empty cafes and brightly colored vendor stalls. Even an occasional vista located just perfectly to allow someone a majestic view of the city and the surrounding area. Tony sighed, thinking of what could have been for this city that many had spent years of their lives developing.

The Town of Beginnings would have been a beautiful city without the miasma of despair that clung to its inhabitants.

It got him to wondering exactly what had come of his AIs, the ones Argus had requested. He had almost had one completely coded at the time of their last meeting. She had been a sweet one. But since he had woken in the game, he had seen no sign of her. Did they end up including her in the Cardinal System at all?

Maybe he should start poking around the GM user panel in earnest, see what he could find out. So far, he had mostly kept away from delving into it, afraid of catching Kayaba’s attention. But if there was something he could do to help, he would damn well try.

Up ahead he saw a sign advertising a blacksmith and item vendor. Eventually he wanted to try and open a smithy himself. Peter seemed set on throwing himself into harms way (per usual), and if he was going to do that, Tony wanted to make sure he had the best equipment available to do so. So Tony started learning how to do what he did best— make weapons and armor.

But to do that required a blacksmith’s forge and anvil. And to get that required a hefty amount of Cor. So for now, he rented an NPC blacksmith’s resources every now and then in order to improve and repair their equipment.

A bell jingled as he opened the door, undoubtedly triggering the customary NPC interaction.

“Welcome to Varden’s Smith and Sundry! How may I help you today?” called the man behind the counter.

“I would like to buy potions,” said Tony.

“What quantities would you like?”

“Ten.”

“That will be 1,500 Cor.”

“Ugh…” Tony broke the script to groan. He didn’t begrudge the purchase, far from it. But seriously, the kid needed to stop getting hit in the first place. His heart really couldn’t take this, and neither could their pocket book.

Who would have guessed he’d finally learn the concept of budgeting in his fifties? And boy did it suck.

Tony opened up his inventory, removing the required amount to place on the counter. As soon as it hit the counter, the bag of Cor flashed and disappeared.

“Thank you for your purchase! Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Yes, I’d like to rent your forge,” said Tony.

“Ah, yes! Come! Follow me this way…”

—

As Peter entered the inn, he glanced around the first floor tavern where various parties sat around rough hewn tables over pub fare and pints. At the bar, several others sat, conversing casually, though a little less intimately than those at the lower tables. Making a decision, he approached the bar.

“What can I getcha?” asked the barman as Peter sat.

“Whatever today’s special is and a pint,” said Peter, setting the typical meal cost in Cor down on the counter.

The barman nodded, accepting the payment and placing a full pint down in front of Peter before turning to finish the task.

As he waited, Peter took sips of his drink and listened in on the conversations around him.

“Word is they’ve finally found the entrance to the dungeon, as well as a new town relatively close to it called Tolbana. Hopefully within the next week or two they’ll find the boss and the first floor will be cleared,” said a woman to his left.

The girl sitting on the other side of her shook her head. “But how many more will die clearing it out? There’s already almost 2,000 names crossed out in the Monument of Life in the Black Palace.”

“What else are we supposed to do? We either die trying to get out or die of old age stuck in a virtual world.”

“Would that really be the worst thing, though? In the real world I’m in constant pain from my condition, some days I can’t even make it out of bed for more than the absolute necessities. Here I can live without that.”

The woman next to him sighed, “I’m sorry for that, and I understand why you would consider the option of living within the system. But some of us can’t. When I dove, I told my husband it would only be for a couple of hours, then we could take our five year old son to the park. They’re waiting on me to return. I want to be able to see my child grow up. So its a risk I have to take.”

The other girl nodded, “I get it.”

It was at that point the barman set a plate of what looked and smelled like chicken and roasted squash in front of him. Peter thanked the man and began to eat.

“God that looks good…” said the girl a couple seats down. “I haven’t eaten a proper meal in a couple days. The black bread is cheaper, though its dry and doesn’t last very long.”

“You really should try and go hunting. You’ll never make enough Cor or skill points to survive comfortably unless you do. Even if its just around this area,” said the other woman. “Going hungry for the next few years would be pretty miserable.”

“Sorry if I’m intruding,” said Peter, “but I’ve been curious about something— how often and how quickly do you get hungry in here?”

“Well, I haven’t really left the city, so I don’t make much Cor to buy food with,” said the girl. “So I kind of just stay hungry throughout most of the day.”

“When I’m leveling I tend to press through instead of stopping to eat,” said the woman, “But when I am eating regularly, I’d say I start feeling hunger similar to how I would in the real world, about every four to six hours. But I’m not sure if its tied to our real world feelings of hunger or a virtual schedule.”

“Might be a little of both… I tend to get hungry a lot in RL, but in here its spaced out a bit more,” said Peter, taking a bite of chicken.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see the girl still looking wistfully at his food.

“Sir, I’d like to order a second plate, but give it to her,” said Peter, nodding in her direction.

As the barman nodded and walked off, the girl started waving her hands.

“No, you shouldn’t do that. Save your Cor—”

“It’s alright, I promise. I’m in here with—”

Shit. What should he call Tony?

“…Imagine being stuck in here with your dad.”

“Er— my sort of Dad, and we’ve been doing pretty good with the mobs. So I can afford it.”

She looked for a moment like she was thinking of arguing still, until the plate was set in front of her. She eyed the food before her eyes teared up a bit, and she nodded.

“Thank you. I really appreciate your kindness.”

“It’s not a problem. I’d do the same in the real world. And what I would do there is what I should do in here,” said Peter.

“Those are wise words,” said the woman. “And you are uncommonly kind. I hope you are able to keep that, but don’t expect everyone in here to share your mindset.”

“I won’t, but just because others choose to not do the right thing doesn’t mean I have to. We all have the power and responsibility to choose to do good,” said Peter, and he felt the intangible feeling within him that he had been wrestling with since the beginning calm.

It wasn’t that the responsibility was no longer his without his powers, it was that the power and responsibility was everyone’s.

Perhaps it always had been.

And just like in the real world, there were those who used their power for good, those who used power for evil, and those that never used their power at all. Most thinking they had none, just like the girl a couple seats down.

But if they worked together…

Peter felt his resolve form.

He was going to the front line.

—

As Tony stepped back out onto the street, he considered his options.

Obviously he needed to head back to the inn. Afterward they could probably head out and take a look around town, seeing as they hadn’t really done so on day one.

But the memory of a café he had passed was singing its song…

He really missed coffee.

Surely they had some digital variation in this game. If not he was lodging a complaint.

The café was just as vacant as when he passed earlier. There were a couple people sitting at a table outside, but was otherwise empty of players.

The customary tinkle of the door as he entered prompted the NPC barista to smile and wave. On the wall behind the counter was a blackboard with various items written— sandwiches and what Tony suspected were types of teas, and in a bottom corner there was a selection of drinks called ‘Kaf.’

“Bingo! I’ll have a black kaf,” Tony looked at the pastries on display off to the side, spying a familiar donut shape with pink frosting, “And one of whatever you call this.”

A minute later he was sitting at a table out front, facing away from the two other patrons with his visor moved, taking a drink of the weirdest tasting ‘coffee’ he had ever tasted. If he had to describe it he would say it was more like a tea, with floral and berry notes and a touch of honey, but with a darker color and consistency of a french press coffee. It wasn’t bad, it just was not what he had been expecting.

Oh well, the donut was a perfect reproduction of a strawberry frosted Dunkin Donut.

“Man, if I make it out of this alive my wife is going to kill me. She’s been super anxious since the Blip— not that I blame her, you know— and this whole thing was definitely not something she was very confident in to begin with,” said one of the men sitting at the nearby table.

“Damn… you were one of the ones caught up in that? I lucked out I guess… I’m not really close to anyone and the ones I am were spared,” replied the other.

“Yeah, I know the Avengers ended up saving everyone in the end and I’m thankful for that obviously, but everything is still such a damn dumpster fire.”

That caught Tony’s attention.

The Blip? Bit of an odd name for an Avenger’s battle. How were the Avengers even a thing? Last time he checked Rogers and his merry men and women were still considered war criminals at large. The ‘Avengers’ consisted of himself, Vision and Rhodey.

“No joke. Almost every economy is still tanked at the moment. And I’m pretty sure half of upper New York State is a crater. Glad that fight was over there and not in my part of the world.”

The bottom of Tony’s stomach dropped out at those words.

“There was a battle… you won, but you took a lot of damage. You’ve been in a coma ever since.”

Peter had never said anything else about the battle, and Tony hadn’t pressed. But if a giant chunk of the state had been completely destroyed because of the battle surely he would have mentioned that?

Wouldn’t he?

Obviously a lot more happened in that battle than Peter had led him to believe. Tony eventually being taken out of commission in a fight was one thing, but from the sound of things this was on par with the Battle of Sokovia.

So why hadn’t Peter mentioned it?

“It was good to catch up, we’ll have to do this again when I’m back this direction. Or maybe on another floor if the rumors of the first floor dungeon door being found are true,” said the first man, standing up.

“Sounds good to me, though I’ll probably be pretty busy soon. Some of us around here have started organizing to try and provide resources for the people here in town. Some of them are players who don’t want to chance dying in the game, but there’s also some kids who are way younger than what the minimum play age was supposed to be. A few volunteers have taken up residence with them in a church in town and we’ve been supplying them with food…” said the other man, as they both walked away.

Damn… that wasn’t something he had thought about, but of course there would be kids who either snuck in on a parent’s account or who were allowed to lie about their age to play the game. Jokes about eight year olds talking crap on Call of Duty were a dime a dozen and everyone laughed about it, but here…

Maybe he should look into that, see what help he could offer. Though unlike in the real world, simply throwing his money at the problem couldn’t fix it. Mostly because he didn’t have any money. Ugh…

Speaking of kids though, he’d need to decide what to say once he got back to his kid at the inn.

Tony took a few deep breaths, trying to loosen up the hold his anxiety had started to take.

Obviously whatever had happened had been huge— Avengers assembled (with or without Rogers and co?), massive property damage, Iron Man out of commission, every country feeling the economic backlash. But unlike what had happened with Sokovia, despite the damages it seemed like the general public opinion after the fact was positive…?

That was unusual.

Most importantly at this point, whatever had happened had affected people across the globe, but especially one young man from Queens.

Had he been at the battle? Tony had initially offered the kid a spot after the whole vulture debacle, but after he had actually slept on it a few hours (the first time he’d slept properly in a few days) he had come to the realization that Peter turning the position down had saved them from what had been an awful idea in the first place. And that was BEFORE May Parker had shown up at the complex in an unholy righteous fury.

So Tony could not imagine having called Peter into a fight, and if it had taken place at the compound like he suspected, Peter shouldn’t have been anywhere near there.

He wanted to go back to the inn and wrangle the details out of Peter. Who was the fight against? What was it about? Was Rogers there? If so, how was Rogers involved? Why was public opinion seemingly in their favor for once? Had anyone other than him been hurt?

Oh god… What if something had happened to Pepper…

No. Peter would have told him that. He wouldn’t lie to him about Pepper, and he had told him weeks ago that she was fine. She was safe.

Tony dropped his head into his hand.

He wanted to ask all those questions, needed those answers…

But even if he got his answers, what could he do about any of it?

And was it worth potentially driving Peter away from him? His kid. The only person he knew and could dare to trust with the truth of his identity in this world?

No. No it wasn’t.

He would just have to see what he could find out from others. And hopefully Peter would eventually come around and open up about what had happened. He trusted the kid with his life, he would trust him in this, too.

The walk back to the inn seemed much quicker than the one to smithy due to Tony’s preoccupied mind and nerves. He was still unsure what to say when he got to the room. He needn’t have worried though, because Peter fixed that problem.

“I want to start fighting on the front line. I’m heading to the dungeon tomorrow.”

“Wait— excuse me, what?”

2 notes · View notes

uneryx · 5 years ago

Text

Payback

Based on all the meta going around about Soren and Rayla having a rad bromance, Callum gaining a ton of upper-body strength from flying everywhere and general Rayllum fluffiness. So have a fic about Callum returning to the Storm Spire after a year of mage training, and how Rayla and Soren respectively welcome him back. Takes place about 3 years after Season 3, so Callum is just shy of 18, Rayla’s just shy of 19, and Soren is 22. Enjoy!!

From the peak of the Storm Spire, Rayla scanned the horizon, tensely waiting for something.

“Whatcha looking for?” said a voice behind her, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. In a flash, she drew her swords and pointed them at the throat of her assailant.

“Whoa, whoa, it’s just me!!” said Soren, holding his hands up defensively and backing away.

Rayla relaxed. “Don’t sneak up on me, Soren, I’m not in the mood.”

“Why? Antsy because your boyyyyyyyyfriend is coming back today?” Soren leaned back with a sly grin.

Soren’s presence on the Storm Spire had initially made the rest of the Dragonguard nervous, but he was there on a diplomatic endeavor: a human Crownguard serving with the Dragonguard. His counterpart, a Sunfire elf named Yavuz, was stationed in Katolis. And after some time, the elves had come to realize that, while not the sharpest sword in the armory, Soren was really good at guarding things, and was pretty determined to prove he was nothing like his father. Plus, even Rayla couldn’t deny that he had his good points, and a strange friendship had blossomed between the two.

Said friendship mostly consisted of trying to out-do each other with increasingly dangerous or ill-considered feats of bravery and strength, but it was friendship nonetheless.Still, just because they were bros now, that didn’t mean Soren got to tease her about Callum.

“Shut it,” she said with a glower, and returned to scanning the horizon. “He’s been gone a long time, I’m allowed to be nervous.”

“It’s been what, a year?” said Soren, sitting down beside her with a clank as he pulled an apple out of some hidden compartment in his armor.

“A year, yeah.” Rayla looked down. She had tried not to miss Callum too much, and hoped that wherever he was - Cloudvale, the Shrieking Shore, Mt. Adra - he pined for her as much as she had pined for him this long year. She’d received letters very regularly, with accounts of his adventures and drawings of what he’d seen, and she sent letters back with updates on Zym, life at the Storm Spire, her own training. But letters and drawings weren’t the same as seeing him; his wide smile, the soft look in those green eyes, the shiver that went down to her toes when he said her name.

Soren bit into the fruit, and continued to speak with his mouth full. “Didn’t know mage training was so intense. Think he learned anything cool?”

“Probably. In his last letter, he said that he and Ibis had been chasing storms, trying to find a big one so he could make a primal stone.”

“Y’know, if you’d have told me three years ago that I’d be hanging out with the Dragon Queen and a bunch of elves, waiting for the step-prince to come flying in because he’s a sky mage and can turn his arms into wings? I’d have thought you were crazy.” Soren paused, thinking. “Actually I probably would have tried to kill you, since you’d have been a Moonshadow Elf in the castle, and since my job was to keep elves OUT of the castle--”

“I get what you mean,” said Rayla, cutting him off. And then, a speck in the distance - no, two specks. She tensed, watching the shapes draw in closer, hopeful but not certain.

“Whoa. Either those are really big birds, or that’s them,” said Soren, standing.

Rayla did not consider herself to be particularly vain or fussy. She had a job to do, which was guarding the spire from threats. Her appearance was low on her priority list (aside from making sure her clan markings weren’t faded and she looked presentable). But now that Callum was approaching, she felt her pulse quickening and suddenly whether or not she looked cute mattered a whole heck of a lot. She fussed with her hair, and tugged at the edges of her uniform.

“Calm down, you look fine,” said Soren, noticing her jitters. He knew he wasn’t the most tactful or observant man out there, but he did have a little sister, and he wasn’t THAT dim. He ignored the pang of sadness at the thought of Claudia, and instead focused on Rayla’s worry. So what if she hadn’t seen Callum in a year? The guy was obnoxiously earnest and a big softie, she had nothing to worry about. And if Callum was a jerk, he’d throw him off the Storm Spire. Assuming Rayla didn’t first.

The shapes drew in closer, and it became apparent that it was two winged humanoids - Ibis and Callum. Rayla waved, excited but restrained, and one of the figures wheeled away from the other, diving lower down, heading for the landing outside the Queen’s chambers.

Soren smirked. “I’m gonna go say hi to Ibis and let the Dragon Queen know they’re back,” he said, heading towards the stairs. “Don’t smooch him too hard!” He nimbly jogged away before Rayla could sock him. She scowled at Soren’s retreating form, but the frown vanished quickly as she looked up.

Callum was drawing closer now, wide brown wings fanning out and tilting upwards as he brought himself in for a landing. His feet had barely touched the stone of the Spire’s pinnacle before Rayla rushed at him, almost tackling him with her embrace.

The mage prince laughed, and it may have been slightly deeper but it was still Callum’s laugh and it had been so long since she’d heard it. Soft feathers wrapped around her (to her delight, he had remembered that she loved his wing hugs), and she snuggled into his chest. “I missed you, you stupid human.”

“I missed you too,” he said warmly, the feathers fading and turning back into arms, before he yelped. “Ah, watch the horns!”

That was when Rayla noticed something was off. Her horn had indeed grazed his nose, and she had her face pressed into his neck, and the chest and arms around her were a lot more solid than she remembered…

She backed up, and her eyes widened. Mage training had had quite the effect on him. To start, he’d hit a growth spurt. They’d been eye-to-eye when he left (her horns giving her a slight advantage on top of that), but now he was a few inches taller than her. But whatever, she’d seen his aunt, and apparently his mother had been tall as well, so she had figured that he’d end up taller than her once they were done with puberty.

What she hadn’t expected was the changes in his physique.Below the waist, he was still fairly scrawny, although it was hard to tell with baggy pants he was wearing. From the waist up, he had gained quite a bit of muscle. His shoulders and chest were considerably broader, and while his arms weren’t the same kind of muscular as Ethari’s or Soren’s (men who spent their days swinging heavy metal objects around), there was lean definition there, similar to Ibis.

Callum beamed at her, and stepped away from her embrace, digging into his bag. “I have something to show you, one sec.” With a flourish, he pulled an object from his satchel, and flipped open an impressively made staff, topped with a small blue primal stone. He posed, staff extended in one arm and the other hand on his hip, his gaze skyward, trying to look heroic and cool. He made a small aspiro rune and blew out the side of his mouth, causing his scarf to flap majestically in the breeze before giving her a grin. Still a major dork, then. An incredibly cut major dork.

Rayla swallowed, and tried to say something intelligent, only managing a flustered “um.”

Callum glanced over at her, his smile fading.“Is… something wrong?”

At his hurt puppy expression, Rayla felt the heat rise in her face. He was so damnably attractive, and so clearly happy to see her after all this time, and here she was, her tongue tied in knots because he’d gotten a little beefier. She stammered a bit, and then resorted to giving his bicep a squeeze.

He looked down at her hand, which trailed over to his chest, and understanding dawned on him. “Oh,” Callum said with a chuckle, “turns out flying everywhere is like doing push-ups for hours.” He smiled slyly, and flexed an arm. “You approve?”

“Uh-huh,” she said, running her finger down his arm, following the line of the runes. She was wondering what he looked like under the red tunic - elven made, since they’d been on the other side of the continent, of course, but still in Katolis red and gold.

Callum tipped her chin up towards him, green meeting lavender, and his mouth quirked into a smile. And Rayla melted in his arms, diving forward and letting her mouth do what she’d spent all the days between dreaming of doing. She could have spent forever in that kiss, freewheeling through the sky that was him, but it wasn’t to be.

Another pair of strong arms wrapped around the two. “This is nice,” said Soren, hugging them both from behind Callum, smirking like the devil himself and leaning on the prince. A few more inches still hadn’t put Callum taller than Soren, much to Callum’s annoyance.

“Hi, Soren,” he said flatly. “Your timing is terrible.”

Soren pulled away, beaming. “Uh, my timing is great, thank you. I was waiting just behind that rock for the right moment!”

“That’s weird,” said Rayla, folding her arms.

“Whatever,” Soren sneered, and then spun Callum around to face him. “Time for a real hug!” He grabbed Callum, and squeezed hard, lifting him off the ground a little in a tight bear hug. Ever since that day before the battle, Soren had gotten it into his head that macho bro hugs was a thing he and Callum did, and a year apart wasn’t going to change that. Callum wheezed, frantically tapping Soren’s arm to let him go.

Finally, he did. “Wow,” said Soren, eyeing Callum up and down. “If I had known all it took to get you to work out was to make it about nerdy magic stuff, I’d have made Claudia give you that primal stone years ago.” He grinned, and dropped to the ground into a plank, and looked up at Callum. “So let’s do this!”

Callum and Rayla exchanged confused glances. “Uh… do what?”

“Push-up contest! I want to see how many you can do now!”

“Soren, I just flew here from Cloudvale. My arms are tired.”

“Oh, so you’re still too puny to do push-ups with your good buddy Soren?” He smirked at Callum, raising an eyebrow. The taunt was obvious bait, which Callum took like a hungry fish. Glaring at Soren, he lowered himself into the ready position. At this, Soren beamed. “Hey Rayla, count us off!”

“Count yourself off,” she said, her voice coming from lower down than expected.

The two boys looked over to see that she had also lowered herself into a ready position, planking effortlessly. “What?” she said at their befuddled looks. “You two really thought I was gonna sit here and let a couple of humans show me up?”

I’ll count,” said Callum with annoyance. He looked at Soren and then Rayla, who both nodded, and with a sigh, he counted. “One… two….”

He stopped looking to see what the others were doing after ten, and after 25, he felt a sudden weight on his back. Specifically, around 200 pounds of armored person, sitting on him. “Soren, why are you sitting on me?”

His arms were shaking now, but with a small note of pride he did consider that he was managing to hold Soren and himself up.

“Well, I was impressed that you got to 25 without breaking a sweat. And then I thought… payback time.” He shifted, bringing his legs up to sit cross-legged on Callum’s back. “I think you were on 26?”

Callum managed 26 and 27, before Soren roped Rayla into participating as well, and Callum collapsed on 28. At that, the competitive tension broke, and the three of them lay in a heap on top of the Storm Spire, laughing.

Later that night, Soren found several dozen moon moths in his bed. Moon moths that someone who could fly had probably flown a little ways west to gather. The note on his pillow said “Payback.”

Well, if Callum wanted to engage in a prank war, then it was on.

#tdp fic #the dragon prince #tdp fanfiction #tdp soren #tdp rayla #tdp callum #based on meta about callum getting really buff due to flapping his arms #also note the reference to a bad comedy punchline

40 notes · View notes

wingsporkhalo · 5 years ago

Text

He’s Mine: A BakuDeku Fic Spork- Chapter 4

WOW I can’t believe this story only ran for 4 chapters! Or no, wait, I can absolutely believe that.

For those of you who are new, I read a terrible BakuDeku fanfiction and made funny commentary on it with the help of some good buddies!! Thanks again @kittykatz009, @the-wizard-l, @satsuneade, and Phos!!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Support me on Patreon! I am poor!! https://www.patreon.com/WingSongHalo And check out my YouTube channel, where you can see video sporks!! https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCgTMFf7W6SyWoZdpqY9ZdPw/

Last time, Shoto made terrible jokes and lied to Izuku’s mother, Izuku and Shoto went on a date, and our helpless damsel protagonist got attacked by a villain!! Also, I provided several of my own takes on the pairing! When we left off, Izuku had received a note from Katsuki that had a love confession on it! In today’s installment, we see the fight between Lord Explosion Murder and Ice Ice Flamey from the beginning! Also, they stalk Izuku and hang around him creepily all night at his house!

============================================================

Me: Izuku would stare at that letter for ages and find a hidden message in it. Izuku, reading the note: "Hey, damn nerd... Even though I didn't get to tell you yesterday, I was trying to say that I'm in Love with you. I want to go out with you. Let me know what you think. PS- Tell anyone else and you're dead." [long pause] "...............oh my god... the first letter of each line... HE'S IN TROUBLE!! I HAVE TO SAVE HIM"

Wiz: 🦢 Me: First off, I think it's kind of telling that within the universe of this story, I'm kind of rooting for Bakugou over Todoroki. I mean, at least Bakugou beat a girl unconscious to save him. Todoroki just kidnapped him while he was dressed like a girl and then took him to a park for no reason and left him there. I like how this chapter is formatted like the shittiest poem I've ever seen. and yes THE DOOR SWAN OPEN Phos: I need to record myself reading bad fanfic like ee Cummings poetry Me: absolutely YOU COULDN'T SEE IZUKU ANYWHERE IN THE WHAT???? WHY WOULD HE--I--WHAT??? THE FUCK???? Jaz: did that say catheter?? Me: IT SAYS CATHETER Wiz: hvgjhgjhRTDYFYGIU Me: IM DYING OH MY GODDDDDD Jaz: that doesnt sound very sanitary Me: MAYBE LOOK IN SOME BETTER HIDING PLACES, TODOROKI

intill: It's all inside

Okay but where is Izuku sitting?? Jaz: he’s levitating Me: "About What?" "Right, about Western Heroes' Acting Theater. They're putting on a show and I want to know if I can make it" "............" And then it’s like "Gee, I have no idea if i should go out with this dangerous person who has always asserted his unquestionable dominance over me with violence if necessary!!" "[internally] oh my god, is Izuku... is the guy I like... dumb??" Jaz: afudshgoudshuigdsh

Me: Of course he doesn't know. Izuku isn't allowed to have a thought in his head in this story Suddenly, Bakugou just fucking Apparates there Jaz: What’s the dose? Me: I dunno, but if it's a Bakugou dose, I'm assuming it'll be -hard to handle -a little too spicy for comfort -really bad for my health Jaz: mhmmm spicy Me:

He must of herd

Surely you mean a Herd of Must? Majestic animals also who is Bakagou and when did he get here? At least we know one thing about him: He's an idiot (...because baka.) WAIT, maybe Bakagou was the author's idea of a pun?? Because he is now Todoroki's rival in love?? ...nah, that's giving the author way too much credit... Jaz: im just picturing Bakugou's head on a horse's body running through a pasture Me: LKAJF;LKSDJLK

Or--hot take, but hear me out--mayyyybe Izuku belongs to no one but himself?? DID YA EVER THINK OF THAT, AUTHOR??? Who is Intill allmight and why is only the first word of his name capitalized Where the fuck did he come from, anyway? Doesn't this take place after the school festival? If so, how is All Might in muscle form? Or did he just appear here in his Smol Might form?? Then he just... fucks the hell off with both of them in tow, I guess IZUKU, HON, GUESS WHAT: YOU DON'T HAVE TO CHOOSE EITHER OF THEM! THEY'RE BOTH BLAND PIECES OF DRYWALL Wiz: RIGHT Me: also I like how they both just stalk Izuku until he makes up his mind. Except NO I DON'T, THAT'S SUPER FUCKING WEIRD AND DISTURBING Wiz: IT REALLY IS Jaz: this is so painful

Wiz: this poor kid Me: Stay over to night? Does that mean they're going to leave at nightfall? sounds a'ight Jaz: the coach Me: "Eh yeah" WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. THIS IS SO STUPID I'M 😂 "Oh remember Izuku" "Yes mom I remember Izuku because that is me" "Oh, okay, just checking. I forget sometimes"

that poor coach

Izuku might as well be a stupid princess doll for all the agency he has in this fic

So the three of them just... sat there in uncomfortable silence while they slowly smushed Izuku between them? And then Izuku just gets up when he's done watching TV? DIDN'T ANYONE WANT TO TALK? THIS IS SO UNSETTLING INKO, COME BACK! WE NEED AN ADULT Wiz: PLEASE COME BACK Jaz: hfdsihgdsiugh

Me: "Don't ask me what vegetables. Just... nameless vegetables. Honestly I'm not convinced they were even vegetables, but that's what the large blue letters on them said, so I thought I'd take their word for it." Wiz: That last line is so creepy for some reason Jaz: it IS creepy Me: "Your going it wrong" They should have said that to Inko when she was leaving. "Your going and leaving us alone with your son? It wrong."

"I never knew that you were good with at cuting!"

I mean, yeah, he could definitely use a refresher course on cute-ing. He has forgotten how to cute.

So like, Shoto's just sitting in there staring brainlessly at the TV while Bakugou impresses his supposed love interest by being a culinary genius? Weak, Shoto. Step up your game.

I haven't spend this much with kacchan

Good lord, I wasn't aware you were spending anything!! How much did those "vegetables" cost??

I went through

WENT THROUGH WHAT?? IS IZUKU SO TWO-DIMENSIONAL NOW THAT HE CAN PASS THROUGH WALLS??

"You were cute when you were a kid weren't you"

Bitch!!! HE'S STILL CUTE AS FUCK!!! Wiz: It's paper mario :O kjwbejhbewfj Me: PFFFFFF Jaz: let this fic die plz

Me: His checks went red??? GOOD LORD, THOSE "VEGETABLES" HAVE BANKRUPTED HIS FAMILY Wiz: oH NOOOOO Me: I can only assume the dinning room is where his mother goes to cause a din by screaming MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE Wiz: That’s it Me:

After dinner because author-chan is lazy

You only admit it after all this? You despicable coward. Wiz: gvhbjkhgjkuhilk mood Me: Should we be letting this expressionless cardboard cutout just silently look through all of Izuku's childhood photographs? Definitely not. Is anyone going to stop him? Definitely not!! Jaz: Izuku telling him to back off? GOOD Me: Why is this author writing both of them as these silent onlookers, hovering over Izuku's shoulder like the inevitability of death?? Also, jesus, why on EARTH would Bakugou just be like "welp I'm gonna shower with him derpdedoo!!" Okay Izuku doesn't feel safe in his own home now. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, AUTHOR. Wiz: THAT’S SO CREEPY JHB Me: so... you're writing one of his love interests as a silent but loyal protector who diligently waits for him and follows him everywhere like a dog? Author, are you... was your first crush a dog or something??? I'm???

(except with “man”) I mean his other choice was to fucking leave, but everyone forgets about that I guess

Jaz: god, i hope they were wearing gloves Me: Author, when you don't put A/N before your stupid pointless interruptions, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SEPARATE IT FROM ALL YOUR CHARACTERS' STUPID POINTLESS THOUGHTS Jaz: his waste Me: "You still cute Izuku!" the Southern Accent returns, this time with Shoto Okay Bakugou's growling when someone's getting close to his beloved now. It's official. Bakugou has become an actual dog Jaz: a smol doggie Me: WHAT SO IZUKU JUST GOES TO BED WITH TWO SUPERPOWERED STALKERS STILL IN HIS HOME?? I???

WHY ARE THEY INVADING HIS SPAAAACE OH MY GODDDD IZUKU HAS GIVEN ZERO INDICATION THAT THEM EVEN BEING IN THE HOUSE IS OKAY HHHHHH

Also yeah apparently someone pooped the bed Wiz: fdghjkhgjkl

Me: THE END??? And then it was never updated because nobody wanted any of that shit for poor Izuku Wiz: THE END WOW Jaz: the end jesus thank god Me: look... I don't usually say this, because it might seem hypocritical coming from someone who hoards fanart and writes character analyses and... does what I'm doing right now, but…

please get a life Jaz: maybe they are also sporking and want an update Me: I mean, fair? Wiz: What a journey Me: ANYWAY YEAH THAT WAS "HE'S MINE!" THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR JOINING ME, Y'ALL

============================================================

Hope you all enjoyed that!! Please let me know if you’ve found any terrible fanfictions you’d like me to spork! Right now I’m working on a Sailor Moon one that was submitted to the blog earlier, so I definitely take your suggestions! Thanks for reading <333

#my hero academia #mha #bad fanfiction #badfic #fanfiction spork #hes mine #bakudeku #tododeku

9 notes · View notes

daughterofsinsloth · 7 years ago

Note

I heard from a friend of mine that you are suggesting great fics of soukoku! Everyday I always go to AO3 and look for Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya tags to find interesting stories but recently I dont feel anymore of enthusiastic when I see updates, probably just stress from school. If its okay do you have any skk amazing fics that you like to recommend me or some you read?

hello anon-chan!! and hello to your friend too!than k you very much for your words! they makle m e really happy!

now! I kinda understand what you mean. maybe coz lately there are more angst fics? also school can be a major reason! i freak out a lot too! neh I will give you some fluuf and romantic or action fics so you can realx and forget all about school okay?

lets see!

first some great writers, that you will definatly enjoy, are:

ReaperStygian

setosdarkness

photography_tea

Memos

Witheryvine

Avi_pizzapopolis

AnonLearnsToWrite

Konoha79

sodenoshirayuki_23

izanyas

stargazerlilith

SoukokuParadise

hellosweetie17

gureshintrash

TheGreatCatsby

hybridempress

Lake_Toya

Kohaku69

okay now some am amazing fics that my heart always skip a beat reading them!

Mother by WhisperingWinds99:

a really heart warming fic! Kouyou narrate skk life and we see her mother sight! well written and overwelming emotions . one shot

Movie Nights and Lazy Mornings by evie_maria:

a cute little one shot abouot skk weekend! pure fluff and calm feelings.

Seven days to show you my love by holdinglucy:

It takes Dazai seven days to prove Chuuya he’s still his partner in the things that matter. one shot and absolutely lovely! Im jealous of chuuya here! its nice seeing Dazai as a caring boyfriend who tries to find happiness and Chuuya deserve some too.

Chuuya’s Secret by Anonymous:

Chuuya’s behavior has become strange lately, but Dazai, with his insight, is certain he can figure it out. a hilarrious fic! one shot and a fluffy one! its mpreg too and its funny seeing Dazai as these dork dads!

Fire in the Night by ChubbyHippo:

I love this one. its one shot and AU. brothel!Chuuya and solder!Dazai fell in love under the bright moon and my hearet stopped!its lovely, romantic,bit sad but overwelm ing and leaves you full.

Five more minutes by counter_illumination:

from morning to night their typical day. cute and fluffy.crak makes an apperance too coz we are talking about Dazai.a really nice feeling in it. one shot

Shared Gravity by writingfromtheshadows, ZODIACHUUYA:

mind the writes too. multi-chptrs. the writers take turns with the chptrs leaving no hoe init and giving you the emotions open to see. AU!high school and reallyyyyy good.The first time they slept together, Dazai and Chuuya were little more than academic rivals thrown together in a haze of dancing and alcohol.Every time after that, well, they just seemed to be drawn to each other. its an awesome fic

A Hearts Desire by Kaokita :

AU and multi-chptrs.Chuuya works in a brothel when he meets Dazai, a journalist. Dazai thinks he can save Chuuya but Chuuya doesn’t need saving. The one who needs saving is the one who longs for a reason to keep living. Chuuya and Dazai end up saving each other. this two are like magnets and when they connect they are explode. Chuuya thinks that they are different but they are not really. A+++ for Oda being alive.

Feel My Love by eunrihae:

multi-chptrs, one going, mpreg.they are just in love and noone thoought that Dazai was serious about Chuuya. but boy they are wrong. coz in the end of the day they will always be in love.

Five Times Dazai Didn’t Stay, and One Time He Did. by kidspawn02:

I honestly loe this one. its well written, well built and over welming. emotions bear for you to see and feel . it has smut b ut not graphic but its about Dazai and Chuuya don’t really know how to deal with sexual tension, and Chuuya doesn’t think it’s fair that he’s fallen in love and that Dazai leaves every time they share a bed. it hurts but the ending is perfect. one shot

Strangers and Painkillers by TheEnigmaticPhoenix:

thiiiiiiiis fic!!!!! best absolute perfect! fluff and light angst but its great! Chuuya has no right as a stranger to make assumptions that the man sitting in front of him is hurting more than he is, despite the huge bloody gash running down the length of Chuuya’s arm.So, in an attempt to become less of a stranger, Chuuya lets the man drag him to the hospital to get his arm treated, hoping that he’ll answer Chuuya’s questions.What Chuuya doesn’t realize is that it’s not that easy to get a certain Dazai Osamu to open up. (part of series)

(i believe) i think i said goodbye to my soul tonight by iskendaris:

this one has smut but I choose it for what it represent. the raw emotions and the writting just bring to light words and promises long buried and very much needed by afraid to be said. true emotions that no one wanted to say but they are not bad and its great how the writer portain them. Dazai OP is “This isn’t sex as much as its an interrogation. Whatever Chuuya wants from him, he doesn’t know why but he knows he can trust Chuuya not to fuck him up.Or rather, he knows why, but he doesn’t think about it too much about baseless trust issues, because therein lies hell and damnation.” and its nice seeing through him

Temporarily by prettypurplegirl08:

cutness overload and a very much needed happiness.multi-chptrs and you dont want it to end.In Dazai’s arms was a small child–Chuuya would guess he was probably around 3 or 4 years old–with, surprisingly, silver white hair staring at Chuuya with those wide purple-yellow mixture orbs of his. The little kid was only wearing an over-size white shirt–well it’s definitely oversized for the small kid. Chuuya fell silent as his gaze never left the child who was thumbsucking in Dazai’s arms, part of his brain trying to figure out where he had seen the kid and another part trying to fathom why Dazai had come to his apartment with him in the first place.//or Atsushi gets turned into a child and Chuuya and Dazai has tot ake care of him, Akutagawa is somehow involved?

I’ll Hold You Close, and Half of Us Closer by doubleblack :

multi-chptrs, on going, mpreg. a lovelly fic. a very needed fluff. “This is the baby.” The doctor smiled. “They look like a little spot right now since you’re not far along. And that is their very strong heartbeat.“Chuuya and Dazai smiled as they looked at the ultrasound of their baby. The doctor printed out the ultrasounds of their baby. She prescribed Chuuya prenatal vitamins, told him he was 10 weeks along, and that he would be due early December. Chuuya and Dazai were now on their way home, and Dazai held Chuuya’s hand as he was driving home.“If Mori finds out…”“He won’t.” Dazai stated. “And even if he did. I will not let anyone hurt you or our baby. Ever. I will destroy the whole Port Mafia before I ever let that happen.” its cuuuuuute. its a journey that i would love to see.

Lips by SilentSoukoku:

cut and unexpected! “My dearest Chuuya, do you even take care of your lips? Look at how cracked they are!” did you died yet? coz I did! one shot

Waste of Bandage’s by ChuuChan1994:

hilarious, cute, amazing! one shot. Chuuya is getting along better with the ADA, that still doesn’t mean he’s willing to put up with Dazai’s bullshit. Where Akutagawa was use to the sight, Atsushi was left gaping at the sight before him.

Just like we agreed by codenamecat:

I will say on thing : Yosano is a b adass Goddnes. thats all. one shot and smut sorry but its funny and fluffy too. “I’ve been giving you excuses to leave since the very beginning, why won’t you just do what we’re both waiting for and take your gross ass away from here?!”Dazai tilted his head, his expression suggesting that he suddenly forgot his mother tongue and didn’t understand a word of what Chuuya just said.“Who said that it’s what I want?”

bounded by fate by Nekito :

super interesting multi-chptrs, AU!!! kouyou never took chuuya in and chuuya never joins the mafia, thus never meeting dazai when they were kids; instead chuuya lives 22 years a normal life until he mets dazai; dazai’s connections with the port mafia however soon causes problems on going.

Without Gods, Without Guidance by dancing_dazai :

another super interesting AU but with Gods! niiice and very promising!Without gods, without guidance, By the window, a woman has passed on; the white sky is blind, the white wind is cold.-The Hour of Death, Chuuya NakaharaTwo lost souls find their way to Quindecim with no memories of who they are or how they got there, and they’re determined to get their lives back. No matter the cost. multi-chptrs and on going

centrifugal/centripetal by TopHat69 :

my absolute favorite! majestic, powerful, overwelming, lovelu, lovely fic! multi-shptrs, omegaverse, on going their story from the begging but they are true mates. problem is that its more than they can handle. it what they need but Chuuya is not good at this and Dazai is too afraid. Chuuya wants to learn, to reach Dazai and Dazai want to be free and filfull a promise.

Cover Up by Satquael:

one shot and beautiful! It wasn’t long after they’d first met that Dazai noticed the tattoo. It was on the back of his neck, a bunch of letters and numbers that didn’t make any real sense. A serial number, of sorts.Chuuya had tried to hide it, understandably. Under his clothes, and then makeup. These solutions didn’t really work. Not in the long term, anyway. Clothes shifted, and makeup rubbed off.Dazai had a better idea.

lastly, will be too bad of me to share my works? I think that you may mostly like this fic:

Can you sew my suit? : Akutagawa and Atsushi are getting married and who is a better person to be their best man, but Dazai Osamu? Unfortunally, all guests has to wear newly sew suits, but Dazai missed the deadline for the order!Now, eight days before the wedding, Akutagawa sends Dazai to his last resolt; his good friend’s tailor shop, Nakahara Chuuya.However, his Dazai’s suit will not be the only thing fixed.Ch1.: the prologueCh2.: the meetingCh3.: a bonus

aaaaaaaaaand thats some of my favorite and amazinf fics i LOVE! hope you like them and happy reading! tell me what you think okay?

be well! :)

have a nice day!!!

#bungou stray dogs #soukoku #fic rec #highly recommended

232 notes · View notes

justanotherghostwriter · 4 years ago

Text

An update list of screams now that we got more lore this morning. (!!!!)

* It’s been a few hours and I’m still absolutely intrigued about this AU version of Uncle Iroh. Because so much of his formation was Lu Ten dying. That’s how he saw the war and his nation for what it was! So I’m so fascinated about this Iroh, and how his views changed and how many views still need to change. Also, how does the Order of the White Lotus fit in this AU?

I’m a lottle intrigued by the idea that Katara (and friends’??) first visit to the Fire Nation that’s been hinted at so far is what started Iroh very firmly down the Action For Change path. And that that’s why the act of good faith was giving Zuko away in marriage. Also very probably to do all he could in desparation to get Zuko away from Ozai.

I cannot wait for this fic. The lore! The worldbuilding! The potential!

* Was Iroh not even around when Zuko got burned? Because damn. My poor son. My heart.

* I’m so hoping for Annoying But Wise And Loving Big Brother Lu Ten with all of my heart.

* Especially for Azula. Having another older brother figure that Ozai can’t belittle/banish/hate must have had an affect on Azula, right???

* I wonder how the Ozai Trying to Usurp The Throne went down in this AU. Because Ursa is clearly gone. (Dead in this AU?) So Ozai still tried to get the throne even without Lu Ten being dead. The guy is evil but he has audacity, that’s for sure.

* I know this won’t be AU canon (lol) but I’m a lot emotional about a version of Zuko getting burned in an Agni Kai as Azulon’s punishment. It won’t work without Lu Ten dying because Azulon’s (faulty af) logic was “you need to feel the pain of a lost son”. But maybe it can stretch into “you tried to challenge a father let’s see how you like it when your son challenges you!” but Zuko is soft inside and refuses to fight and gets burned and Azulon was just like “well that didn’t go according to plan”.

(Honestly this whole family needs deep therapy and deconditioning.)

* This probably also won’t be AU canon but I cannot. Stop. Thinking. About. Zuko finally learning to relax and be loved and then being back in the Fire Nation (ON HIS KNEES IN FRONT OF HIS FATHER FOR A WHOLE MEAL/TALK I’M SCREAM) in a room he knows Azula knows how to sneak into. So my brain has flung itself onto a train of Zuko cannot sleep in his old bed bc he’s super aware of how Unsafe the palace is despite his Uncle’s best efforts. It always has been. He’s also worried about what they’ll try to do to Katara. (Key word being try: he’s had his ass handed to him by his wife enough times to know she can take care of herself. But. Still. Ozai doesn’t play by the rules.) And either Katara comes and crawls into bed with him or they go find the unused servant’s quarters Iroh and Lu Ten both pretend they don’t know Zuko used to go and sleep in to hide from people. And they curl up together there safe.

* Another totally fanfic-of-this-fanfic moment (yes, that’s still my brand) is Iroh and Lu Ten evesdropping on Katara and Zuko walking around the palace. They want to know what the two of them are like away from prying eyes. For science!

And they’re teasing each other quietly. “Oh, look, another building.” “Brings back memories of you showing me all the different lumps of ice when I first got to the South Pole, right?” “Those glaciers were all entirely different and majestic. This is just... this is... what is this.” “It’s an important part of our heritage. This building was built in - “ “It’s the laundry room.”

And, at some point, Katara reaches up to fix Zuko’s topknot and her hand just gently strokes his scar and Iroh and Lu Ten nearly have a stroke from their hiding place because !!!! oh. O h. OKAY THEN OKAY THEN.

* Yet another fannish AU part to this: Zuko is required to cut his hair pretty short when he goes back to the FN. Because only royals in high standing can have long hair (please don’t get me started on my Fire Nation hair meta it’s too long) and he’s married to a foreigner which makes him lower so. He gets, like, shoulder length hair at best. And Katara cutting it for him because she knows what it represents okay bye.

* Also askaklsjaksjals to Zuko giving her a hair piece as a wedding gift WHERE IS THAT POST THAT METAS THAT HEADPIECES ARE THE FIRE NATION VERSION OF BETROTHAL NECKLACES I NEED TO FIND IT AGAIN.

Just me descending slowly and daily into obsessive madness about Lizanthium’s SWT Zutara AU.

I have a lot of queues to stand in for work, so I have, unfortunately, a lot of time to stare into middle distance and think about AUs that are not mine to think about.

Some of my oft revisited personal what ifs/headcanons/predictions/observations/questions:

Keep reading

#SWT Zuko #My screaming

31 notes · View notes

thelittleloverofbooks · 8 years ago

Text

A Throne of Glass and Fury: Part X

This CERTAINLY shouldn’t need any introductions! It has been SUCH A LONG TIME since I’ve updated this fic, and I hope you all enjoy what I’ve written. I couldn’t think of how I wanted to continue and was stuck in a rut for the longest time. But I am fairly happy with the results! Don’t forget to like and reblog, and don’t be shy with the comments and messages sharing your thoughts!

<<..>>..<<..>>..<<..>>..<<..>>..<<..>>..<<..>>

Lysandra entered her rooms, dress and jewelry and hair accessories dropping to the floor as she made her way to her bathing chambers. She was pleasantly surprised to find that, upon entering, water was already quickly filling up the considerably-sized tub, sweet-smelling bubbles rising along with it. She wasn’t entirely sure what kind of magic they used here in Prythian, but she was certain she could get used to this kind of luxury.

The beautiful courtesan had to admit that the Night Court was indeed as beautiful as it was foreign to her, and she was just dying to get out tomorrow and explore more of the city of Velaris.

Perhaps Aedion would like to join me when I go.

The thought made her pause, remembering what she had said to him only an hour or so earlier. How she had requested he visit her rooms tonight. What had she even meant when she’d said it? Did Aedion expect some time of...intimacy upon complying with her request? Would she mind if he did? And if they were to explore their relationship in that way—Lysandra was confident that once they did nothing would be the same.

Candles lit, bathing the room in a soft glow as the doors to the adorning balcony opened. A soft breeze filled the space, smelling of lavender and jasmine. Lysandra had a perfect view of the city, bustling with people. Of the mountains, majestic purple hues capped with an innocent white. And lastly, the stars, winking brilliantly from their own little heaven. It was a scene like one Lysandra had never seen before.

She had only just emerged herself into the tub when a knock sounded, soon followed by a strong but tentative voice. “Lys?”

“I’m in here,” she called out, heart hammering in her chest as Aedion came into view. He stopped at the threshold, eyes wide at the scene before him.

“If I’d known you were currently preoccupied I would have just waited outside,” his brows furrowed. “Perhaps I should come back later,” he said, but still did not turn to leave.

“What’s wrong, Aedion? I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of naked women in your time, this should be no different,” she challenged, but Lysandra wouldn’t try to make him stay, wouldn’t force him to do anything—as if she could. However, she had to admit that there was a part of her, a larger part than she had anticipated, that was hoping he’d stay. That he would take that first step into her bathing chambers and sit on the edge of the tub and talk to her if nothing else.

“Besides,” she said, forcing lightheartedness into her tone, “I believe you owe me the ending to a certain story.”

He offered her a gentle smile, running a hand through sun-kissed blond hair. And then he took a step into the room. And another, and then another until he was right beside her, taking a seat on the edge of the tub.

Aedion breathed in before exhaling words that immediately had Lysandra trapped.

“The father and his son went with the man, both of them distrustful of why he’d chosen to aid them in a time when everyone was struggling.

“The man had a carriage, a nondescript one, but it was pulled by four horses with coats the color of rich soil. The father could not remember the last time he had sat on something other than dirt or grass or hay. Even after decades of poverty, the father had still somehow preserved the ability to be ashamed; He wondered how terribly he and his son must smell to this man, though he gave no inclination that he had noticed the stench of despair on them.

The three of them sat in the carriage, the father and son on one side, staring at the man seated in front of them, assessing them with pale, gem colored eyes. He locked gazes with the boy, now a young man, and said, “Have you ever been taught to read?” The son shook his head. “Then I assume you haven’t been taught to write, or add, or any of that kind of stuff, have you?”

“No, sir.”

“The man paused for a moment, nodding, always possessing an air that he was meticulously calculating everything and everyone around him. “How old are you?”

“There were many things the boy was unsure of, but of this one thing, he was certain. He and his father never had much, but each year on his birthday, his father would sacrifice and somehow have saved enough money to buy him one sweet from the local Confectionery. And every year, the boy would ask his father if he wanted any, insisting that he have half of whatever it was his father had been able to afford that year. And every year, his father would politely deny, smile making crinkles appear on the sides of his wise, old eyes. “It’s for you, Castiel. I’m not hungry, I promise. Eat.” Gabriel’s father never told him lies, hunger did not leave much energy to put forth the effort of not telling the truth. But Gabriel soon learned that this was the one lie his father told over and over again.

“Nineteen,” Castiel had responded. “I will be twenty in two months time.”

“Again, the man just appraised him, and for the rest of the carriage ride, it was silent as a man’s coffin. Castiel and his father had no idea where they were traveling, they’d never seen the luscious, rolling green hills that seemed to stretch on for an eternity, had never witnessed the bright pinks and majestic purples and sky blues of the many flowers that decorated the lands.

“It was dark when they’d traveled through a small town, the people not blinking an eye at the carriage rolling through the streets. Soon enough, they made it to a considerably-sized house. It had a garden out back and stables and a farm not far.

“The carriage stopped, and immediately the old man asked what they were doing there. He was certain the man had brought them only to murder them without any witnesses, or to torture them for information.

“Follow me,” is all the man said. When Castiel as little, his father had taught him the basics of self-defense. He hadn’t ever really had to use it, but he was sure he could if this man proved to be a threat to him or his father. But they followed the man into the house—his house—rendered speechless by the simplistic beauty of it. Of how servants bustled about, smiling at the man, welcoming him home, stripping him of his coat and hat and informing him that dinner was nearly ready.

“The man looked at Castiel’s father, asked him if he knew how to read and write. The father said that he could, and when the man asked why he’d never taught his son, Castiel’s father explained that he’d never had the materials or time to do so.

“The jewel-toned eyes of the man met Castiel’s and his father’s and he said, “I have a place for you both to stay. Food, water, and shelter shall be provided. You,” he directly addressed Castiel, “will attend studies for four hours a day, every day except Sunday. And after your studies, you will do whatever work it is I assign you to do for the day. After you’ve finished your work, you will report to me in my study before bed.” Castiel knew the man hadn’t asked if he understood, but he nodded his head anyway.

“He then asked the father’s name—Gabriel—and also gave him a specific set of instructions. The man informed them that they were welcome to stay for as long as they liked, so long as they abide by his rules and contribute to the household.

“Castiel turned to his father, took him by the hands. He asked what his father thought, asked if he trusted the man if they should agree to the man’s rules. His father only squeezed his hands and asked what more they had to lose.

“So Castiel turned to the man, shook his head once, and agreed.”

Aedion stopped speaking, and it took Lysandra a moment before she realized that he was not going to continue. “Is that it? That can’t possibly be the end of the story,” she exclaimed.

He nodded, “You’re right. There’s plenty more to the story. That’s just the ending...for tonight.” Lysandra groaned, burying herself deeper into the water.

“Why won’t you just finish it tonight?” Aedion smirked and replied, “Because if I tell you the rest of the story tonight, there’ll be no excuse for me to come visit your rooms tomorrow night.”

“You don’t need an excuse to visit my rooms, Aedion. You know that,” she said quietly. He didn’t tear his gaze away, though a part of Lys wished he would. Aedion had a way of looking at her so intently, it always made her feel as if he was stripping her naked, as if all her flaws—everything she was was just laid bare. As if he could see everything.

Slowly, never taking his eyes from hers, Aedion leaned down until his face was level with hers. There was a moment of silence. And then Lysandra felt his nose skimming her shoulder, warm breath kissing her skin, lips caressing the shell of her ear.

Delicious chills danced up her spine, eyes fluttering closed and heart sputtering a wild rhythm in her chest that Lysandra was certain Aedion could hear. His lips ghosted for a moment before lowering to kiss the soft skin of her shoulder. Again. And again.

A lingering kiss to her forehead. “Goodnight, Lys,” he whispered. Then he was gone, the only trace of him being the thundering of her heart, and the fire racing through her veins.

116 notes · View notes