#sword coast. please. please make an exception. just this once’

[fabledteeth]

anybody else play a cleric durge and felt like they had to come up with some ridiculous reason as to why their pc would wake up believing they worship a god that’s not bhaal? ophelia’s is “i can tell i used to worship a god and can’t remember who, but i have some sick fucking lightning powers and i love carnage destruction and chaos, so that probably means talos is my god. yeah that checks out”

and it’s just. not even fucking true. she was absolutely Not a cleric before the nautiloid, and she definitely didn’t worship talos. he just happened to fit the description

i like to think talos sees her going through this process and just decides to feed into her delusions and grant her cleric powers because he thinks it’s funny

[bg-brainrot]

Second winter fluff prompt for the BG3 Holiday Challenge!

Prompt: Ice and Snow

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Love at First Knife, on AO3 here

Premise: Astarion is always cold, used to a nocturnal lifestyle and a distinct lack of blood in his veins. However you, the sad little mortal, are not prepared for the winter’s chill. When you experience your first snowfall together, Astarion makes it his personal mission to ensure that you’re bundled up.

Tags: Fluff, POV Second person, Gender-neutral pronouns, Post-Canon

Word count: ~1.1k

“Astarion, please,” you say, voice muffled behind a thick, knitted scarf. “You’re completely overreacting.”

The vampire tuts at you, as he deposits a fur-lined hat upon your head, and a few dangling tassels tickle your ears. “Now darling, what did I tell you about fighting me on this?”

“That you would tie me up and–”

“No, the other thing,” he interrupts, though a salacious smile comes over him at the thought.

“Oh. That you wouldn’t let me make a snow celestial…” you sound dejected, and you downcast your eyes to appear pitiable.

Astarion, for his part, only finds joy in your reaction, a delighted giggle being his only response.

“What about you?” you challenge, as he tries to shimmy another coat onto your already quite padded frame. "You were just complaining about the cold the other day!"

“I’m coldblooded, my dear. And you know I only complain for the attention,” he says, kneeling down to lace your boots for you. If you tried to bend down right now, you’re certain you’ll fall over in a pile of furs and fluff. “I shall be just fine with my current coat.” He’s currently wearing a fitted red winter coat, an embroidered pattern of roses in gold along its sleeves and collar– the epitome of a dashing man, next to your shambling mound.

“Stupid, sexy vampire,” you mutter under your breath. He only laughs and places yet another scarf around your neck.

Satisfied with his work, he takes a step back. “Would you look at that, my scary assassin is all ready to go outside,” he says, a bright smile on his face.

You level him with a murderous look, which loses some of its effect considering the scarves currently blocking your mouth. “I’ll show you scary,” you mumble, ready to attack your lover. You find that difficult now though, considering a slow shuffle is all that you can maintain.

He pays your death glares no mind, as he tucks one delicate little scarf around his own neck and declares that he’s ready to go outside as well.

You wobble after him, feeling nothing like the intimidating rogue you’re supposed to be. But you suppose if it means he won’t stop your snow celestials, some sacrifices, like your pride, must be made.

The first snowfall along the Sword Coast is always among the most beautiful and this year is no exception. Once you’ve made your way outside, you find yourself surrounded by a winter wonderland.

Pockets of snow line your roof, several inches of snow surround your house in every direction, and a light smattering of snow falls upon you now. You wish you could feel it, but between all of the layers, you only guess that it’s light and powdery– perfect for snow celestials.

Astarion peers around at the world, seeming rather unimpressed. “Well, isn’t that lovely. The ground is white.”

You ignore his lackluster response to the bounty of snow before you and make your way past him to the yard. With more of a stumble than a step, you fall into a particularly open patch of snow in front of your house. A puff of white snow explodes around you as you land, and you breathe out a single, “Oof.”

“Love, was that… on purpose?” Astarion asks, not far behind you.

“Mmhm,” you mumble into the snow. A backwards snow celestial it is. With all of the effort you can muster, you wave your arms and legs into the shape of wings and, well, whatever celestials had in place of legs. You can feel yourself overheating from the bundle of clothes surrounding you, but you’re determined to make this look good and ensure that Astarion understands that this is lovely.

After your exertions, you stop moving for a bit, just laying there in the impression of your snow celestial. Astarion, who’s likely been watching you this entire time, calls out, “Are you alright, dear?”

You raise your hand into a gloved thumbs up.

“Do you need help getting up?”

“Mhhhmmmm,” you groan into the snow. Your nose is starting to get cold and your sweat is chilling over.

“Alright then,” he responds, and you feel his legs carefully step around you, his arms tugging you onto your back and hoisting you up. Once you’re on your feet, your lover frowns at you and begins dusting you off with determination. “Darling, look at you. You’re going to get soaked to the bone with how much snow you’re covered in.”

“And whose fault is that?” you grumble at him.

“Yours, for insisting on the snow celestial,” he retorts, flicking your nose with his index finger.

That reminds you– You look down at your imprint in the snow, see what all of this unpleasant combination of cold and sweat got you. It’s a little lopsided, and both your and Astarion’s boots have left several footprints in the center, but it’s a solid attempt.

Brimming with pride at your work, you look to Astarion. “See? Look at how radiant my celestial looks.”

Astarion takes a look as well, and you can see the stifled laughter begging to come out.

“Don’t you dare laugh,” you say, pointing a stern finger at him.

He promptly defies you, as a hearty chuckle escapes him. “Sorry, dearest, but the hat you’re wearing makes it look like some kind of beholder.”

You look down to see that the tassels to your hat must have flung around as you moved, creating a crown of what could really only be described as eyestalks. “Well then. A snow aberration. I’m not picky,” you respond with a shrug.

Astarion smiles at you, open affection coloring his gaze, before he pulls you into a wide hug. “Fantastic work, love. Your talent is unmatched. And maybe– just maybe– it was worth all of the effort.”

You lean into him and his praise and say, “I suppose I should thank you for making sure I stayed warm.”

“Oh no need,” he says, squeezing you tightly. “Seeing you look like a large marshmallow is truly its own reward.” He drops his voice an octave and adds, “And somehow you still manage to look utterly enticing.”

You can barely feel his movements through the layers between you, so when he abruptly begins dragging you back to the house you give a surprised yelp. “What are you doing?”

“Your snow creature is done, now comes my favorite part– taking all of these layers off,” you catch Astarion’s quick wink before you’re ungracefully pulled after him.

There’s snow between your scarves, your toes have begun to chill, and fresh new snow is falling on your face, but somehow his words still warm you. “Was this your plan all along?”

“Naturally, my love. You know I would do anything to keep you warm,” his tone is innocent, the lidded eyes he gives you anything but. He must catch the flush covering your face because he laughs a melodic trill. “I’m starting to think I quite like wintertime.”

[corviisquire]

I’ve read the comments on my post abt soulsborne sleep token thing! Here’s some concept art I tried. More is on the way just… HW ew. Tagging people who were interested/encouraging this idea: @sleep-token @wingedinsect @moonchild-in-blue @foundationsofdecay @madsthenightowl @a-s-levynn

Undercut is me mindlessly rambling about what’s going on in my brain about this. Don’t read unless you like torturing yourself with reading.

I guess to start, I have only played Elden Ring (crucible knight more like crucible kill yours-IM JOKING), I’ve watched some lore videos on Elden Ring Bloodborne and DS1, haven’t played DS1 yet, and have all the art books except DS2 (cause nobody likes DS2). I’ve played very limited DND games. I’ve read lots of weaponry wiki pages but I have bad memory. If any information I say below is incorrect (like I say this sword is two-handed but it’s not or I misspell spauldor… spalder? Spauldron?) please correct me. I’m just using information I know and I’m always open to suggestions and feedback!

Random Lore Bits: Sleep and the Whale lived in peace but Sleep was always the higher deity. It created all that lives on the land and the TMBTE creatures. Sleep had many worhsippers but Vessel and the rest stood out. They were appointed as the highest knights of sleep. Vessel always had Sleep’s favor and therefore became Sleep’s vessel. Confusing I’m aware lmao. Sleep and Whale became enemies somehow and Sleep injured the whale, causing it to die. This time period before the Whale’s death was called Eden. NPCs speak of Eden all the time about how, “Peace and day has never been restored since Eden” “Eden is over” “If the whale were here, Eden would still be here”. All followers of Sleep become corrupt.

Bosses: Once killed, all bosses turn into statues and have branches grow out of them. They aren’t dead, just dormant. You can fight them again but returning to their fight area and making an offering of a certain amount of tokens. Once defeated again they return to being dormant. If you defeat all resurrected bosses (fought each one twice) you get smth called a Talisman of Blood (important later).

Regular enemies: Idk skeletons???? Giant birds??? Snakes???? Giant insectoids Idk bro???

Location: Like Elden Ring lands between, it’s called Fields of Elation. The capital city is either Nazareth or Jericho. I’ll try to incorporate Calcutta somehow. Geography is a mix of frigid coast, deep dark forest, large cavernous cave strictures, old ruined castles with mysterious rusty machinery inside, sparatic temples to sleep (all whale temples were destroyed), and the remnants of towns. Large trade road that goes through the entirety of the land is called the Path of Reason??? Idk bro I’m spitballing.

Currency: Tokens. Killing enemies and bosses earns you large amounts of tokens and like how runes work, you can level up you and your armaments with them.

Waypoints: Sites of grace, bonfires, more like RITUALS (I am not funny). I think calling waypoints rituals makes sense.

Flasks HP/FP: Estus Flask, Flask of Crimson/Cruelean Tears…. How about Flssk of H I G H W A T E R. Nah I’m kidding. No idea! Suggestions are open! I’m reading lyrics and nothings jumping out.

Incantations/Spells: Can be equipped to magic armaments and weapons! Kinda like you can choose between spell sword or just being a wizard.

Player Character: Tarnished, undead, hunter…. No idea what to call them. Robes and garments Very inspired by TPWBYT. Thinking the whale was an ancient god defeated by Sleep. Player Character is gifted with a certain power of the whale and was resurrected to defeat Sleep. Game opens with epic cutscene and player charter emerges from a cavern (TLYW) and goes through it before finding themselves on the coast of a freezing raging sea and an inviting forest. There’s probably one class you play as cause I’m lazy and you just collect armor and new weapons on the journey. TLYW style robes with greaves, hood, and gauntlets. Basic longsword.

Vessel: I’ve read the feedback and I agree that staff needs to stay. Live laugh staff. I’ve seen a few Elden ring builds where it’s right armament is staff for casting the long range stuff and left armament is a short sword, miséricorde (mercy dagger), scimitar(?), or other various short weapons. I like the image of this because I imagine him having somewhat light armor so if you’re far away, he spell. If you’re close, he stab. Spells are gonna be red. Change my mind. I like the Elden Ring boss Maliketh’s magic attacks so I imagine something like that. I imagine his boss fight starts with epic cut scene with him kneeled in a big arching cathedral temple type place and he’s like, “you seek to defeat the vessel of Sleep, foolish warrior? I have not known defeat against those of the sea nor those of Sleep” or some crazy bs like that. Half health, hands of Sleep show up and swipe and grab and Player Character. Just giant spindly hands that appear and float around. Attempts to break away form Sleep control but fails so that why he evil >:}

II: Dual wielding… what? No idea. I want him to dual wild some sort of straight weapon cause like drumsticks but honestly… sickles are so badass… Med. to light armor so he can move around a lot. Some sort of helmet with feather Mohawk. Boss area is probably in a fort outside of the main city. Just you and this guy. Get ready for a stamina check.

III: I’m torn between frenzied flame/black flame style magic user or spell sword. If magic, light armor. If spell sword, med. armor. Boss fight in a large old temple, candlelit and torn tapestries everywhere. Better have some fire immunity talismans on you.

IV: Halbert. All the way. Heavy armor my guy. Idk not much to say. Thinking banished knight ornstein inspo?? Boss fight Outside the gates to Vessel/Sleep’s castle. Vigor check time!!!

Chokehold: large dark cavern with webs strung about. It appears from above like, “A traitor to Sleep, hm? Pity. You seemed like you would be a good asset to the Vessel’s artillery.” Big axe time. High HP high strength boss. Vulnerable spot is probably its stomach area. Gives you armor, weapon, talisman, and incantation “Branches in a Flood” (roots sprout from the ground and entangle enemy).

The Summoning: Player probably stumbles upon the fight after meeting Aqua Regia and Granite. Mean killing machine. Idk what else to say erm… maybe player interacts with a sleep token symbol on a pillar with runes and it summons (pun intended) the summoning creature??? Stonehenge lookin boss area. Armor, weapons, talisman, and incantations are dropped.

Granite: Relatively peaceful NPC. Dialogue options are cool and it probably raises stats and alters your armaments. Quest line ends with Granite maybe just becoming dormant or it becomes a member of sleep again and sad boss fight initiates. Drops its armor, axes, root/weed talisman that increases stamina and immunity.

Aqua Regia: Chill and never ends in boss fight. Probably lets you summon them during other boss fights. Spear and sword. Gifts you new armor and talismans. Quest line maybe ends with them becoming too weak to keep battling and becomes dormsnt. You get their armor, spear, sword, rose talisman that raises FP, and a spell/incantation that shoots gold acid rays called Gold Rush or smth similar (Like Aqua Regia? Get it?)

Vore: Awesome boss. Inflicts poison damage for sure. I think we can all imagine how fighting Vore would be. In a poison lake haha it wants you to suffer. Armor, weapons, talisman, and incantations are dropped.

Ascensionism: Swords swords swords. Pulls a Starscourge Radahn and turns a meteor and player has to dodge lmao (cause yk ascending). Boss area is probably in a giant colosseum that’s old and crumbling. Armor, weapons, talisman, and incantations are dropped.

Are You Really Okay?: Player character pulls a stupid and decides to touch and inspect the strange incubator with a fetus inside and AYRO appears and is like “DONT TOUCH MY CHILD” initiate boss fight. Small castle is the boss fight area. Armor, weapons, talisman, and incantations are dropped.

The Apparition: Big guy, big hammer. Boss fight is somewhere in a forest clearing. No other ideas for it. Drops weapons, armor, talisman, incantations like everyone else.

DYWTYLM: Chokehold but with tiny dagger and looks like a giant engine. Probably shoots fire from the pipes on its body? Chokehold is PISSED if you defeat this guy first. Brothers fr fr. Boss fight in an old building filled with machinery. Speed is low but HP is super high. Drops armor, weapons, incantations, and talisman.

Rain: Your magic immunity better be HIGH. Renala style fight: Crazy hits, bad defense. Probably drops some crazy cool incantations, armor (really bad armor), and a talisman of fire immunity and raises your FP. Boss fight area is in a shiny crystaly forest area surrounded by weeping willow/wisteria like trees.

Take Me Back To Eden: The last boss before Vessel. Killer fight. Armor is also fire??? Difficult but probably super dope. Boss fight is in a SUPER large hallway in the castle of Sleep. Drops weapons, armor, talisman of resistance against airborne attacks.

Euclid: NPC that’s probably cranky and hesitant to befriend you at first. Still a follower of Sleep but respects the players fate to defeat the sleepmiester (I’m so tired bro—). Might fight you idk.Once dormant, drops and old mask of Vessel, a few incantations, and armor.

Endings: Endings one: You defeat vessel, sleep becomes dormant and no gods rule over the land. Creatures and vessels are resurrected. Endings 2: You defeat vessel and become the new Vessel of Sleep. No difference from first ending, you just chose if ya wanna be evil or not. Endings 3: If you acquire the Talisman of Blood, Sleep sees you worthy to fight them without using a vessel. Radagon Elden Beast situation. When you defeat sleep, the whale is resurrected.

[fishysaltine]

(Please read the whole post and maybe my thoughts will form into coherency)

Hopefully I don’t get flack for this and word this correctly:

But I love Wyll’s story, just not his character direction, if that makes sense? (I’m still setting up to romance him tho) he had SUCH good setup for being a really nuanced character among the cast that we have and I think that’s partly due to all of the content he got cut from his story

Can you imagine how much people would crawl over Wyll if he was mother gothel’d? If he totally leaned into Mizora after ten years of isolation? ESPECIALLY AFTER BEING SCORNED BY HIS FATHER?? Bro was 17(?) and impressionable as fuck after a traumatic experience

Also I understand Wyll’s like “my dad had every right to exile me! Mizora covered her tracks!” But you can understand why someone hurt you and be pissed off and doesn’t mean that you have no right to be upset. I’D be upset if my parent left me (a literal child in this situation) in charge of protecting a whole city, then shunned me after I made the only decision that would make sure I could fulfill my city and make them proud! Wyll’s dad literally turned his back on his own son just like that, little to no questions asked, and Wyll has no?? Resentment? AT ALL?? HUH

(Imagine, pray tell, Mizora telling a young, impressionable Wyll that his father must have never truly loved him if he was willing to get rid of him so easily? Wyll hoping that his father would one day forgive him only to lose hope and return to Mizora once more??? You’re telling me that wouldn’t make the lads and ladies swoon?! Especially after learning that Wyll was a total daddy’s boy??)

And the TAV/PC had to go through the slow burn of proving to Wyll that she’s the bitch she is and is only using him? Or push him further into his mindset that Mizora cares for him, even if she hurts him? And Mizora slowly growing more and more desperate to keep her claws in him if you start pulling him away? Until the final thing she does in act 3- it would be so much more powerful and less than a “GOTCHA!”

You don’t even have to make Wyll neutral or evil! He just thinks Mizora has his best interests at heart (when she obvi doesn’t to anyone but him, as if the case with abusive relationships) The first crack would obviously be Karlach, since even Wyll states that Mizora never sent him to hunt tiefling’s, and he literally would’ve killed Karlach if TAV/PC wasn’t there (or the tadpoles) and it would’ve been so heart breaking and interesting for him to be the goodest boy with such a bad person as his “bestie”, all because of the manipulation and abuse she puts him through to keep his expectations and even self esteem low, pushed further by turning him into a DEMON.

(Judging by his dialogue I genuinely wonder if Larian intended for Wyll to have an arc like this, because it would fit a lot better into the general theme of breaking abuse cycles that the game pushes so hard. Especially from the interaction you can have with him at the tiefling party when he *ahem* ISOLATES HIMSELF FROM OTHERS)

A change in how he reacts to his trauma and abuse would’ve set him more apart too, since pretty much everyone except for Shart and Lae’zel aren’t particularly big fans of their abusers (except Gale, but I wouldn’t say he totally embraced Mystra at the time we meet, and if you romance him he throws her to wall p fast). And his abuser isn’t religious at all, it’s more personal since Mizora is literally right in his ear, it’s much more personal ig?

It also would’ve really pushed his thematic parallel to Karlach who H A T ES the devil who forced her into servitude. Can u imagine if she met Wyll, and he’s like “yeah Mizora’s the ONLY ONE looking out for me! ☝️She helps me protect the sword coast! She’s my HOMIE!” She would be so angry and sad for him, because his desperation for connection drove him to connect with a BITCH of a devil

Mizora is just the cookie-cutter narcissist abuser, she isolates her victim and makes (Wyll) rely on only her. It’s honestly more confusing that Wyll isn’t more with her, that he rejects her so vehemently after a decade with essentially only her at his side. I legit don’t understand why Wyll and Mizora weren’t dialed up to 10+ like all the other companions and their abusers are

Anyway these are my sad, slightly disappointed thoughts on Wyll, I just wish he had a lot more content in general but also his own personal journey throughout the game, but maybe it will change when I romance him

[kallard]

Revenge is a dish best served cold

There's no honorable way to kill, no gentle way to destroy. There is nothing good in war. Except it’s ending.

((The following contains subject material that may be triggering to some. Themes included are graphic and intense violence and vulgar language. Read at your own discretion.))

“Danger!” a voice boomed from the speakers that were scattered in and around the base. “Core reactor meltdown in ten minutes. All personnel are to report to their designated evac route. Core will meltdown in ten minutes!”

(( Recommend listening: https://youtu.be/EO9x0y5lqD0?si=FisiqILX2wVUCaH2 ))

Major Marcus Senna shot upward in his bed at the sound of the alarm blaring throughout the base. He could hear boots slapping against concrete, several voices shouting out orders. Marcus threw aside his comforter and flew out of bed, running overt over to where he stored his uniform and weapons. He didn’t bother tucking in his shirt, nor was his uniform freshly pressed. If his commanding officer were to see him in such a state, Marcus would surely be running suicide laps around the base naked.

The door leading into his private quarters burst open and his secretary flew into his room. She looked at him with wide eyes full of fear, beads of sweat causing her bangs to cling to her forehead.

“Sir! We need to hurry, someone has activated the reactor’s self destruct!” his secretary told him, her voice shaking.

“Modia, it’s going to be okay. Please, go ahead of me and make sure my ship is ready for transport. I’ll go to the engineering bay to see what’s going on. Go on, get going. I’m right behind you,” Marcus said, switching to a soft, calm voice in an effort to calm the girl’s frayed nerves.

The girl didn’t say anything else as she spun around and ran back out of the room, almost crashing into a handful of soldiers putting their armor on as they moved. They barked at her, telling Modia to get out of their way. She made a noise of distress before vanishing into the hallway, the blaring alarm masking the sound of her footsteps.

Marcus swore under his breath as another group of his men ran past. He peaked his head out of his room, looking first left then right. Once the coast was clear he ran out of his room and took a left, running towards the general location of engineering. He moved as quickly as he could manage, his troops ducking out of his way as they made their way to their designated evacuation points. Most of these men would leave the base on one of the base’s five hypersonic assault carriers, each one capable of transporting ten troopers and two pilots, more than enough room for all of the men and women stationed here.

An explosion rocked the building, causing dust and small bits of debris to rain down on Marcus. This only caused him to run faster, fearing the worst. If he got there in time, he will be able to terminate the self destruct sequence. But that would involve in him getting to the console to input the commands before it was too late to cancel it. He prayed that he would make it in time. It’s not like the Empire was pumping out more troops and weapons to replace the ones that are surely going to die tonight.

Just as Marcus rounded the corner and the large metal double doors leading into the engineering bay in sight. Someone was standing in front of the doors was a man Marcus did not recognize. He came to a halt a few feet away from the stranger dressed for war. The man wore all black, an armored long coat hugging his torso, a tactical vest visible with a dozen spare magazines and half a dozen grenades. Marcus also spotted two shaped charges, praying that those were the only two the stranger had on him. Somehow he doubted that.

“Sup, Major. How’re things?” the stranger asked Marcus.

“Who are you and what are you doing to my base?! So you have any idea who you’re fucking with?!” Marcus snapped back as he drew his sword. “Get the fuck out of my way.”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

(( Recommended listening: https://youtu.be/S176AKQhcCk?si=y9z3RRBeAVxk3TKw ))

The stranger roared as he charged forward. He ducked down and tackled Marcus to the ground, pinning him down with ease. The Major snarled and tried to grab the sword he dropped when the stranger hit him. Seeing this, the stranger laughed, took hold of Marcus’s hand and shattered the bones in his palm with a single press of his thumb.

SNAP!

Marcus roared in agony as his left hand was destroyed, his fingers dropping unnaturally backward, a gaping hole gushing blood having formed from the stranger’s thumb. What kind of man possesses the strength to literally punch a hole in someone’s hand with the use of some tool or obscene strength.

The stranger threw a punch and Marcus moved his head to the opposite side, barely avoiding the strike. The man’s hand left a spiderweb of cracks in the tile, his impossible strength surprising the Major. He only knew of a handful of men and women who had been fitted with prosthetics during the war. Many of them had died, or so he had thought. Two soldiers came to mind and the thought alone caused Marcus’s face to go pale as he realized who was on top of him.

It was the White Devil, Decimus Sas Panthera, the man responsible for squishing resistance movements. This man had more blood on his hands than Marcus did. It was then that Marcus realized that him and his men were dead. They just didn’t know it yet.

Kallard grabbed Marcus by the collar of his shirt and dragged him back to his feet. But, rather than standing the man back up, Kallard picked him up and threw him through the wall behind Marcus. He cried out in pain as the cinder blocks gave way and broke as he came flying through the wall. Marcus groaned and rocked from side to side, cradling his torso. Several of his ribs had broken when he was thrown like a child throws their toys around.

“Traitor!” Marcus shouted while he drug himself up back into his feet.

It felt like there was a fire in Marcus’s chest. A couple of the busted ribs were pushing up against his vital organs, dragging and scratching the sensitive organs. He brought a hand up to his mouth as he coughed up a lungful of blood and mucus.

“The Empire is dead,” Kallard said as he stepped through the hole he had made when throwing Marcus. “And I’m here to bury it.”

Marcus groaned and started walking forward. He flicked his hands off to the side, adjusting the fit of his sleeves prior to a fist fight. The Major took in a deep breath and readied himself for the shitshow.

Kallard brought up one arm to deflect a left hook Marcus threw at him. He watched as the Major yelped in pain, both arms wrapping around his chest. Without giving him any time to recover, Kallard surged forward and grabbed Marcus. He hoisted the bigger man over his head and held him in the air for a moment.

Dropping down to a knee, Kallard roared and roughly dragged Marcus down and over his knee. He heard the man’s spine snap before he started screaming in pain. His legs went limp and the seat of his pants were soaked with warm urine as he spiked his pants. Kallard rose back up to his feet, looking down at the broken man. He bent down and took hold of the Major’s shirt and dragged him away from the main building. He approached a light post and kicked Marcus into it.

“You’re going to sit there and watch all of your men die,” Kallard told Marcus while he wrapped a thick rope around the Major’s torso, tying him to the lamp post. “And you’re going to think about your actions, Major. You have maybe two minutes to make your peace with the gods.”

Marcus didn’t see where Kallard had disappeared to as the man appeared to simple vanish into thin air. He chalked it up to the pain clouding his perception of events occurring around him with a fire raging in his chest. Through the hole in the wall, the Major was helpless to watch as his men tired to make sense of what was going on. None of them saw the Major, nor did they really care where he was.

“Where is Chief Engineer Potitus?!” Marcus could hear one of his men shouting. “Why isn’t he working on the reactor?!” They didn’t know it, but the chief engineer was dead in his bunk, shot through the head with a single bullet, his brains splattered on the wall behind him.

The Major looked up when he heard one of the assault craft’s engines spooling up. He half expected to see one of his ships rise and shoot off into the heavens. Instead there were several loud gunshots followed by a series of explosions. Men and women could be heard screaming off in the distance, some more desperate than others. He did his best to look and see what was happening, but a large storage crate was blocking his sight.

The last thing Marcus saw was one assault carrier taking off and flying southward, only to be followed by a pair of ships similar to the carrier. Their engines kicked into high gear and all three vessels were gone, vanishing into the night with three loud sonic booms going off, one after another. It was then that the base’s reactor detonated. The explosion caused the ground to quake, large chunks of concrete and metal throw several hundred feet into the air and around the base like a giant shrapnel grenade going off. Marcus was killed instantly by a sheet of metal cutting his head off in one clean cut. Just as his body slumped to the ground the shaped charges Kallard had set went off, putting an end to the base once and for all.

Meanwhile, several miles south….

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Kallard swore again and again, looking down at the radar console. Two other crafts were in pursuit, their cannons belching fire as large caliber bullets wizzed by Kallard’s ship.

Kallard took hold of the yoke and knocked it to the right, causing the craft to suddenly fly starboard. He groaned as the intense G forces pressed down on his body, making it harder to breathe. His training kicked in and he started clenching his leg muscles and switching to a different breathing method. Panic began to set in when the edges of his vision started fading black. The yoke was then jerked backward, forcing the craft to fly upwards in a straight line.

“Seia! Flares, now, now, now!” Kallard tried to tell his sister, only growing angrier upon realizing she was gone. He could feel the white hot fury building up inside, something he had begun to feel whenever he thought of his deceased sister. It was a rage that drove him to the edges of the world, killing people who should have died years ago, but had managed to avoid facing their consequences by hiding in the fringes of the Empire’s territory.

Now that Seia’s death was fresh in his memory, Kallard reached over to his left and smacked a button labeled flares. He then leaned forward and peered out of the starboard porthole, watching as a series of flares were fired from hidden locations along the ship’s hull. An alarm sounded as the ship detected the launch of an enemy missile. Instead of hitting his ship, the weapon instead locked onto one of the flares, effectively saving Kallard.

“Scratch one bogie!” he told no one in particular.

Kallard brought a hand to prevent himself from vomiting all over the flight console as he did a barrel roll, narrowly avoiding more cannon fire from his rear. It seemed that the last ship had been undeterred by their comrade’s flaming death. Two more pings showed up on the radar, moving in quick to aid the surviving assault craft. Even inside the craft Kallard could hear the large rounds whizz by the cockpit, whistling as they flew through the air.

KABANG!

The craft was shook when an enemy round slammed into the loading bay’s closed door. A freshly punched hole was visible, the cold air from outside pushing its way into the carrier section of the assault craft. Undeterred by this, Kallard slammed on the brakes, causing his ship to slow down. The three ships in pursuit flew right past him, unable to remain at his backside.

With his enemies now in front of him, Kallard flipped up a toggle and flipped the switch under it, arming his ship’s missles. He drove the throttle forward and zoomed forward. The ship’s onboard computer system located the enemy craft with a camera, locking on once a clear image was established. A singular note tone began to sound from the console, signaling a successful target lock. A button was pressed and the missile took off.

BOOM!

The explosion shook Kallard’s ship as the rightmost craft burst into flames. Shrapnel rained down on the mountaintops below them, showering the native wildlife with burning hot shards of metal. The two remaining craft put their engines into max throttle, now trying to outrun Kallard. He adjusted the yoke a little and turned the craft port side, aiming his ship at the lead enemy craft. He took the throttle and pulled it back while his other hand started toggling different settings. He shifted the craft from ramjet to dcramjet, effectively doubling the craft’s max speed, allowing it to slip into hypersonic speeds with ease. Kallard pushed the throttle forward once more and was pushed into his seat.

There was a change in the engine’s pitch as the engines were shifted over to a mode that would allow it to travel much faster. By the time it had fully spun up, the ship was already zipping through the air at Mach six, close to Mach seven. The enemy craft were drawing closer and closer to the point where they were in weapon’s range once more. Kallard shifted the angle of his approach, toggled his ship’s fully automatic cannons and trained them on the craft on his port side.

The cannons issued a loud BRRRRRRRTTT sound as the gun’s multiple chambers were spun, allowing it to belch lead at a much higher rate of fire. The explosive tip rounds slammed into the craft, turning it from an engineering marvel into a flaming heap of worthless scrap. The dead bodies of its inhabitants would lay scattered on the ground around the ship, among a sea of dismembered limbs.

With one ship left, Kallard was on him like a cat chasing a mouse. He trained his weapons into the enemy ship and intentionally missed his next few shots, giving the illusion that he wasn’t as skilled with an assault craft as his foes were. The surviving ship lowered its speed and dropped behind Kallard and started to immediately open fire with its cannons while its missiles established target lock.

But Kallard was one step ahead of the other pilot. He smirked and toggled a switch, opening the ship’s bomb bay doors. There wasn’t anything big left in the craft, save for a few smaller bombs used for breaking up troop movements. He deployed the bombs as if they were sky mines, dropping them right in the path of the enemy ship. It shrugged off the first explosion, but by the third it was really struggling to keep up with Kallard. On the fourth impact the ship burst into a ball of flames, finally ending the pursuit.

“Fuck me,” Kallard muttered to himself, leaning back into his chair. “You see that shit, sis? I’m getting better, though I’m nowhere near as good as you were. I love and miss you.”

The ship’s weapons were then disabled now there was no further threat of a flaming death. The craft settled into a cruising speed at Mach six, soaring through the sky with ease. It had been a week since he set out on his mission, and with it complete, Kallard found himself setting a course for Hingashi. He could only imagine how worried sick his Raen friend would be.

[sewermageboy]

Ok so I have a lot of questions for romanced Companion!Hyacinth, feel free to skip any

1, 2, 4, 5, 7 and 12 please <3

In reference to this ask meme.

1. Is your Tav a romanceable character?  Are there any specific requirements to romancing them?

They are, and there are no specific requirements. In true bard fashion, they're down for pretty much anything and anyone, as long as approval isn't atrocious.

2. Does your Tav need to be flirted with to start the romance, or will they approach the PC themselves if approval is high enough?

Hyacinth will always have lowkey flirty dialogue with the PC, even if approval is neutral, and they'll approve of the PC flirting back. Similar to Lae'zel and Astarion, they'll offer to hook up before the party.

4. Do they have a special romance scene at the tiefling/goblin party?

Tiefling party: Hyacinth is alternating between dancing with a few of the tieflings, fun village dances, spinning around with some of the kids, and playing their violin alongside Alfira's lute music.

When the PC approaches them, they'll be invited to dance alongside Hyacinth and the tieflings, and depending on player choice, they can either join a friendly group dance or pull Hyacinth into a more intimate position for a one-on-one dance. Afterwards, the PC can hook up with Hyacinth (again, if they were approached beforehand).

Goblin party: No dancing, no violin music. Hyacinth is quietly nursing a drink, their face a mask of neutrality. When the PC approaches them, they're perfectly pleasant, congratulating them on a job well executed. There is no additional romance scene at the goblin party, and the PC can't sleep with them either.

5. Does the romance have different branching paths, or just one route to take?

The PC can harden Hyacinth (similar to Leliana or Alistair in DAO), and depending on if they did, their romance plays out differently.

Non-hardened Hyacinth is content with the life they have, wanting to be there for their daughter but is also open to traveling (anywhere except the Underdark). Their Act 3 romance scene is serenading the PC on the roof of the Elfsong Tavern, and watching the sunset together as they tell the PC of their past, both the good and the bad.

Hardened Hyacinth wants to get ahead, sick of limiting themself to the life of an entertainer. Their mother taught them these skills for a reason after all, and they'll put them to use as they were intended, manipulating and scheming their way into the circles of the rich and powerful of the Sword Coast. Their Act 3 romance scene also happens on the roof of the Elfsong tavern, but at sunset. They don't play the violin for the PC, instead hooking up with them. There is no talk about their past, either. Instead, Hyacinth talks about their plans for the future, how they will finally take their rightful place among the elites of Baldur's Gate.

7. What questions can Zethino ask the PC about Tav in the Love Test? 

Q: What is Hyacinth proudest of? 1. Their artistic talent - they're a master with the violin! (Approval, they'll give a mock bow) 2. Their ability to manipulate people. (Disapproval unless you're heading for their bad ending) 3. Their prowess in bed. (Approval, they think this is hilarious)

Q: What is home to them? 1. The people they love. (Approval, they'll comment that the PC is a sap) 2. Menzoberranzan. (Disapproval, hasn't been their home in a long long time) 3. Baldur's Gate. (Approval, they'll say that, no matter where they go, life always brings them back to the Gate in the end)

Q: What are they most afraid of? 1. Lolth. (Disapproval, while they did fear Lolth once, they've long since cut her out of their life, very deliberately giving her no more power over them) 2. Messing up on stage. (Approval, though they comment that a true artist can cover up whatever kind of mistake they make without issue) 3. Becoming their mother. (no approval change, this is the correct answer)

12. Free space! Share anything from your companion!Tav au!

I love the mechanic in Dragon Age that companions get together if you don't date either of them (like Dorian and Bull), so I'm gonna say that, if the PC doesn't romance Astarion then Hyacinth and him are in an established relationship by the time of the epilogue.

[uwua3]

Yo! Can i ask for a cute Pirate AU with an adventure seeking MC pirate captain, who, when she and her crew are making a stop at some port, meets her childhood friend, Tenma, with whom she has romantic tension, only Tenma is a big blushing tsundere mess, and MC is verrrryyy oblivious to his blushiness, but accidentally innocently flirts with him?? If that makes sense? Also oops the soldiers have seen me, the wanted pirate, wanna get out of here and join my crew?

summary: a deal is made between a pirate captain haunted by their legacy and an island medium who wants to go home

warnings: alcohol, death (mentions), cops/police, crime, fights (physical/arguments), fires, ghosts, military, near–death experiences, pirates, slow-burn, swords, unrequited love/love triangle

author’s note: thank you so much for your patience requesting this pirate story~ i did my best to do this justice, as i love pirates more than anything! .*:ﾟ（｀・ω・´）ゝﾟ:*. this was a jolly good time to write, thank you! (please let me know if you would like a part 02 to this, as it ran longer than expected)! thank you!! :D

word count: 6,163

music: ship in a bottle – fin

captain, let’s make a deal.

☀️🌻 sumeragi tenma

even out at sea, you couldn’t escape the fire that destroyed your town years ago. the fire that made you become a pirate captain

you were born by a local village by the coast, where the air tasted like salt no matter what and trade was your community’s main economy

it was home. a place where everyone knew each other as family, where the sun was hot upon even warmer smiles and the euphoric laughter of children surrounded the island. this was the land of the happy, the free, and the united

it wasn’t until the damn navy—your first enemy until death—came

according to heresay, pirates were supposed to plunder and pillage without mercy. pirates were the villain and yet, what would the navy be then? after what they did to you, they were anything but heroes

yonaguni was made of tall palm trees that provided shade during the eternal summer that sunburnt your skin, floating markets by the pier with tricky elderly and learning apprentinces in the family business, and rare wildlife not found anywhere else

now, it was nothing more than hell. you could remember it all—how the flames licked the open wounds from navy seamen, the screams of the innocent replacing what would’ve been last words meant for decades later, the sound of crashing trees blocking every available escape route as birds flew away in the distance

you were just a yonaguni native, and now, there was nothing left of your hometown. it was permanently erased from world history forever, and you were the sole survivor of the island, making you the most wanted vigilante alive

it had been years since you last had a nightmare of the attack. was haunting your brain and traumautizing you for life during every waking hour not enough?

but, you knew the answer why you couldn’t stop mourning the loss of yonaguni

it was nearing the anniversary of your friend, sumeragi tenma’s, death

and, as you climbed to the crow’s nest with the power of the ocean running through your salted veins and spite overwhelming you in the deepest, darkest parts of yourself, you could see it over the horizon

the navy said dead men tell no tales, but you were alive, and you would be a legend

“all hands ahoy or you’ll be given no quarter!” (everyone on deck or you’ll be shown no mercy)

“aye, captain!” your crew replied eagerly, their loyalty unwavering and strong as always. you stood atop of the main mast, surrounded by vast ocean bordering a blue, cloudless sky. even without your telescope, you could see everything in the world

beneath you sounded the swing of the lines (rope) against the wind before two feet landed in the crow’s nest. the sailor had the type of agility that only came from a boy born on sea

“cap, don’t tell me ya forgot about me?” your quartermaster, rurikawa yuki, grinned (a rare sight that only came when the ocean smelt strongest of salt and treasure), standing at the ledge whilst holding onto the lines with one hand. any other novice would’ve immediately fallen off with how strong the random gusts of wind were, but yuki was an enigma and your second in command for a reason

“ahoy, yuki! so long as the jolly rodger waves, this crew will always be ready to set sail.” you responded, sliding down the mast to be in the crow’s nest as well. yuki just rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning upon your frame like it was nothing

“don’t hornswaggle (cheat) me, cap. what are you thinking about?” yuki read you like a map, as expected of the second best cartographer (after master boatswain muku, of course) in all the seven seas. you tried to remain present in the moment, with the wind flowing and sky clear, but it wasn’t enough

“... tell me, yuki. is it so easy to read the distraught upon my face?” you joked, but it fell flat as yuki raised an unimpressed eyebrow at your facade. yuki didn’t take bullshit from anyone, not even his own captain

“aye, do not be acting as if you’re feeding the fish (about to die), captain.” yuki carefully watched if any of their small crew was eavesdropping, but the rest were doing their proper tasks for the morning. cartographer muku was happily reading directions to helmsman misumi. the two were a fantastic pair, considering the “sky” ship hasn’t sunken

surgeon kazunari was dutifully sanitizing his medical tools besides them, taking some time to laugh loudly at some story misumi was dramatically reenacting as he spun the wheel skillfully

“boom about!” yuki called out without looking away, already feeling it in his bones moments before anyone else could. his intuition was unheard of, and you watched no one hesitate as they ducked just in time

“sorry~!” misumi responded without any apologetic tone to his voice whatsoever. his sailor’s grin was infectious and wide, a smile only those accustomed to the fatal winds and waves of the ocean could make. just like everyone else on the “sky” ship, they all were forged by the sea

“smartly make way to land before i toss you off myself!” yuki snapped, but it held no malice. he rolled his eyes unimpressed when kazunari laughed at misumi’s sarcastic salute, knowing pirates did no such navy thing without mockery

“oh, dear yuki, how could i drown with you by my side?” you reached over to ruffle his hair, the precarious creak of the wooden mast the last thing on your mind as yuki swatted at your hand, irritated by the littlest of things as always

“you’re right, i’ll have your head first anyways.” yuki said with no malice, giving you a small frown as his calculating eyes glanced over you once more, trying to find any cracks in your confident visage. when he found nothing, he climbed back down, seemingly unsatisfied when you didn’t break under his stare

(you were one of the few on the crew who didn’t flinch. the other was misumi, who just had no fear towards anything, so it wasn’t personal. after all, misumi was the finest swashbuckler around!)

ahead, your acute sight narrowed in on the growing formation in the distance, your gut tensing before realizing it was far too large to be another ship

with a grin, you hanged over the edge (a habit that no longer scares your crew), your voice amplified as it was carried downward by the wind. it was to be expected, of course, as a yonaguni native, your town always had a special connection to nature that no one else did

“my men, turn your heads and look forward into the horizon! what do you see?”

“land, captain!”

“then let us sail faster! the sooner we reach the shores, the quicker you all can take a damn shower!”

with a shared lighthearted laugh, everyone focused on their role and position towards the land mass ahead. whether it was the possibility of smelling like something else other than a siren’s cove or something more, you smiled, forgetting about last night’s sleepless disturbances

up ahead was fukusaki, sky crew’s next location for the night

after three months or so on sea, your crew’s resources were dwindling (much faster since everyone had a bottomless appetite). it was time to visit a port town to stock up and set sail the next sunrise

sure, it was a rushed habit of yours, but it was never good to stay in one place for too long. that came with the risk of losing again...

besides, who liked a crew of pirates to suddenly come to the town square in their stained clothing and gleaming swords?

after barely securing a place to tie down the great beauty known as “sky”, entering fukusaki was like any other town. merchants upon the docks were experts at haggling prices, civilians went by with their day to day life, and the sun burned everyone’s skin just the same

but as you placed your leather boot upon the wooden dock, something inside you turned. like something had suddenly shifted in the town but you had no idea what

yuki seemed to have felt the same thing, even if his facial expression didn’t change. as kazunari kept muku from fighting with a seller for a map of the local area (misumi was unfortunately encouraging him), yuki inched closer to you, his brows furrowed

“you feel that? something isn’t right.” yuki bluntly stated, eyes scanning his surroundings like usual. except he didn’t know what he was looking for, so a frustrated sigh left his lips

“aye, feels as if someone’s running a rig (playing a trick) on us...” you murmured under your breath, careful not to alarm the returning muku with haughtiness ablaze in his eyes and sheepishness from an apologizing but relieved kazunari (it was hard to believe muku used to be shy prior to joining)

“keep a look out. let you know if somethin’s amiss.” yuki peeled away, checking in with muku asking where the closest tavern was. at the mention of alcohol, misumi jumped in, rambling about how he had already talked to a local about all the best spots

you took a moment to take a deep breath in, the scent of palm trees and fruit replacing your usual endless seas. it wasn’t unsettling, just new. your sea legs itched to return to somewhere always changing, always new, but you knew you couldn’t do that to your friends

you straightened your back and walked with the confidence of a true pirate captain, swinging both your arms around kazunari and misumi, peering down at the map with an easy smile

“alright my hearties, where to?”

this gut feeling could wait, you had a few hours to relax before everything turned upside down

of course the captain got the most inconvenient yet boring jobs that could’ve been assigned

(yuki didn’t look sorry as he happily enjoyed your childish huff at being the grocery shopper, knowing how much you hated to interact with people outside of the crew)

due to your very limited people skills, you awkwardly tried to summon your confidence to come back around all the fukusaki shop vendors. when you were with your crew, all eyes were on you and how high your head was held. but, when alone... a captain was nothing without its crew, you supposed

a messily scrawled list by kazunari was in your hand (never ask a doctor to write anything) as you tried to decipher the words, holding it up to the sun to figure out what the hell he wanted

after getting the main idea of what each person wanted within budget, you stood on the outskirts of the town square, desperately trying to decide what was the best way to approach this situation

you couldn’t appear helpless or confused! how were you supposed to haggle in this state of mind?! as you slowly spun around in a circle to view all of the sellers before settling on a rather small, unimpressive stand

maybe that meant cheaper prices! you thought cleverly, walking over with the poise of a seasoned native. with a neutral expression, you reached a wooden display with a certain swagger to your step

however... there was nothing. as you stood in the front of the set-up and realized no one was there, you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. what kind of service was this? was there no one actually here to sell anything?

before you could leave, a flash of orange appeared in front of you, purple eyes wide as if surprised they even received a customer. “w-wait!” he called out, nearly falling over his own table. this kid would clearly not make it upon a ship, you thought

for whatever reason, you stopped, looking over your shoulder with an unimpressed expression at the simple boy. he was tall and lean, wearing a bandana around his orange hair and an unbuttoned shirt. it was a casual appearance unfit for a merchant

“what is it? i’ve got places to be and there’s nothing here to be sold.” you stated, a wave of shock passing over his face before solidifying in a stubborn crease in his forehead

“huh? what are you talking about? haven’t you come here to get rid of that?”

when he reached out, you jolted back, a surge of energy visible in your body. you felt that strongly, what the hell did this random merchant do to you?!

“w—calm down! stop moving or i can’t remove the yokai! you’re making this difficult.” he demanded roughly, his proper words clipped from an accent unlike any other on this island. there was a certain... twang, to his vocabulary. as if it didn’t sit right, as if it was on the tip of his tongue

so much for customer service! you didn’t listen, dodging his hand like your life depended on it. as you ducked beneath his arm, you gripped his bicep with a death glare. at your narrowed eyes, the orange-haired boy gulped and stared back with astonishment

clearly, fukusaki natives weren’t this rude

“yokai? what the hell are you blubberin’ about, kid?” you questioned, your patience thin like a century-old rope worn down by salt. he set his lips in a straight line, as if trying to assess if you were serious or not. when you didn’t budge, he yanked his arm back and rubbed the sore spot, giving in

“ghosts. you got more spirits than normal around you, they’ve been there for a long time.”

you were about to retort, but fell silent at the remembrance of yonaguni. had your ancestors been with you all this time? you almost couldn’t believe you’ve been actually haunted by their deaths for this long

“i have no ghosts. do not try to scam me.” you flatly said before turning on your heel, intent on leaving the possibility of ghosts behind before tenma took a hold on your arm this time

“but, they’re trying to tell you—”

before tenma could finish, an irritated and offended voice boomed just down the cobblestone pathway

“you dare lay your hand on our captain?!”

“yuki, wait!” the crew clambered after him, hands always short of his shirt fabric as yuki’s sword made a sickening sound when pulled out of its sheath. the orange-haired boy let go immediately, attempting to make a run for it before coming face to face with misumi, whose previous smile was cold and nonexistent

it was as if the other merchants disappeared, fearing a start of a fight would be terrible for business. tenma was caught in the middle of a 5-person circle, with yuki pointing the tip of his sword at his throat

“state your name and business for grabbing our captain like that!” yuki was adamant on proving his sword was real by putting it closer to the boy’s adam’s apple. he tried not to shake under the pressure, but you noticed how his feet had no shoes and looked ready to run to anywhere but here

“um... t—johnny. it’s johnny, and i simply belong to a family of fukusaki mediums, that’s all.” johnny(?) said, as if trying to convince himself. all of you secretly exchanged a look, trying to decide whether or not to believe this so-called johnny

“you see ghosts?” yuki scoffed, his position already clear on the issue. ever since you two have met, you knew yuki never believed in anything involving the supernatural. after all, so many mysteries were hidden in the ocean, yuki doubted anything could scare him on land

but, you... you’re starting to believe johnny as you notice his eyes waver towards you. maybe not so much you, but whatever was surrounding you

“yes, sir. i can communicate with them as well. ever since i was a young boy, i’ve brought peace to the dead.” your head snapped towards him at that, something inside of you turning

that boy could bring your ancestors peace? could it be too good to be true? as if hearing your thoughts, johnny nodded to reaffirm your beliefs

before anyone else can join in on the questioning, you held your hand up and everyone fell silent, waiting for your next words. you could easily tell yuki to kill this boy and he would... but you won’t

“how much are your services?”

johnny blinked, clearly not used to this question as he mentally calculated whatever in his head. “uh... i usually don’t get paid.”

“if we took you on your ship, how much then?” (you immediately hushed a protesting yuki and wary crew)

“my payment wouldn’t be money.” johnny quickly said, almost shocking himself with how fast that answer came. you raised an eyebrow at that, about to question his terms before muku turned, eyebrows furrowed

“there’s someone coming.” muku whispered in a hush, immediately on guard as everyone shifted to a defensive position. at the first sound of a boot on ground, kazunari’s eyes widened. a telltale sign of the cop’s traditional uniform, which kazunari knew better than most

“go! go! go!” you ordered, everyone taking off running. without thinking, you took a hold of johnny’s hand. he squeezed it without flinching, turning and impressively staying by your side even as you got faster and faster

you were fast, but you despised running with a passion. if you closed your eyes longer than a blink, you could almost smell the smoke and crack of the tree trunks. for some reason, johnny smelt like coconut, and that humored you to a certain extent as your crew ran for their lives from the officers. someone must’ve alerted local authorities nearby...

even with a map, muku was lost to the island’s complex system. despite being quick on his feet, muku’s eyes frantically analyzed the outdated lines and pressed his lips into a straight line out of frustration. you knew you should’ve stepped in, but what could you have done?

“follow me!” johnny whispered hurriedly, turning into a waypoint before stopping and looking back. your crew subconsciously looked towards you as well, as if asking if this fukasaki native was trustworthy

though, it’s not like you had a choice now

you ran with johnny, the rest of your crew following suit. when you reached a dead end, you expected this to be a mistake before johnny nimbly flung himself up the ivy-covered wall, landing with a hard thud as if he hadn’t done so in a long time. ignoring the pain, johnny extended his hand an impressive height away

“grab my hand and we’ll be free!” pirates weren’t one to say no to freedom (or put all their coins in one chest...), so you got down to provide a boost to your crew mates. it wasn’t a time to be noble, so they all took your support without complaining, easily being able to run past johnny

when it was your turn, the sound of polished boots grew increasingly closer, much to your chagrin. you backed up quietly, gulping and trying not to look behind you as you glanced up. both johnny and yuki were standing there, their hands extended as you got a running start

you closed your eyes, breathed in the imaginary smoke, and leaped, feeling the grip of both their hands upon yours as they helped you up. just as you ducked beneath the foliage, you breathed a sigh of relief as the officers ran by without sparing a second look

when you opened your eyes, you noticed johnny was still holding your hand, his fist tight around yours as you could practically feel his heartbeat through leaning on his shoulder

you got up to thank johnny before noticing yuki’s uncharacteristic quietness and the way his eyes looked between you and johnny... as if he was betrayed

you didn’t think more of it despite the sinking feeling in your stomach

it was a night to celebrate! escaping the cops was no easy feat, especially on a foreign island. your crew, who had taken a liking to johnny’s ability to hold his own, invited him to drinks (not that they needed guidance to the safest tavern, of course...)

you nursed your own drink of choice at a rickety table with the crew, watching as they became less like pirates and more like their own ages with a few drinks and good music. yuki didn’t drink, which was something that had always occurred no matter where they went

johnny was flustered under all the attention, or it was the alcohol everyone insisted he could keep down. you stifled a chuckle when kazunari hooked his arm around tenma’s neck and ruffled his hair, the look upon his face priceless

you took a sip before lowering the cup’s rim, noticing yuki’s wary gaze. he met your eye with a frown, as if hesitating on what to say next. once again, how strange

“captain,” at that, you tried not to outwardly wince. it wasn’t common for yuki to be so... formal with you, at least. “do you truly intend on bringing this stranger with us?”

“johnny is no stranger anymore, yuki. he saved our lives, we are indebted to him.” you flatly said, glancing at johnny once more. yuki huffed, clearly disagreeing with your opinion as he rolled his eyes

“we would’ve been just fine without him. plus, he’s a medium! how do you know he’s the real deal, anyways?”

“i just... know.” you tried to elaborate, but it fell on deaf ears. there were some parts of your past you just couldn’t elaborate on, some parts that wouldn’t make sense to a non-yonaguni native

yuki slammed his water on the wooden table, a sound barely distinguishable in the rowdy atmosphere before getting up with a skid of the stool. he silently left, no doubt heading back to the docks where the stars shined the brightest and moon made things shrouded in dark more visible

you got up and followed without speaking another word. the crew knew disagreements between you & yuki were far and few, so there was no time to ask silly questions

when you reached the outside, the salt in the air and muffled sound of everyone having fun made you stop. behind you, you noticed the door didn’t slam completely as a quick-footed pair of feet made their way besides you

“are... you okay?” johnny asked, his hands in his linen pockets as you exhaled, nodding as you leaned onto the wall. johnny stiffly stood by the door, as if guarding it

“yeah, yeah. i am... just a little tussle, that’s all.” you sounded as if you were trying to convince yourself, but neither of you pointed it out. a few moments of awkward silence passed, before johnny cleared his throat

“okay, i didn’t hear nothin’. just... heard the spirits around you get loud.”

there he went again about the ghosts and spirits! you subconsciously patted your hair down flat, turning to look at johnny with yuki-like skepticism in your narrowed eyes

“how can you see there are ghosts on me? how do i know you’re not pullin’ my leg?” you suspiciously questioned, watching as johnny bristled under the attention. it seemed as if the island natives didn’t question his credibility as a medium

“you know i’m right. you have tens, maybe more, spirits attached to you. i can help you take them away, for a price, of course.”

“which is?”

“i want to find an island lost to me long ago.”

if you blinked, you could’ve sworn you were talking to a past-version of yourself. why did that request seem so familiar?

“do you know its name?”

“nay... my family refuses to tell me anything about where i’m from. all i know is the navy is the reason i lost my parents.”

“mine too.” you admitted with a breath and the conversation paused, you two sharing an understanding expression of sympathy but unshakable faith. you two understood each other despite knowing one another for a few hours

“then, is it settled?” johnny held out his hand, which you took with a firm grip. his palms were soft for an islander, funny enough. he must’ve thought differently since this was one of the few times you took off your leather gloves

“as long as you bring peace to my ancestors, you’re comin’ with me.”

when the hours became late and you ultimately decided everyone passed their limit a long time ago, you and johnny led them all to their barracks with laughs and humor in the air

when you reached the docks, yuki was barely noticeable in the night as he stood upon the mast of the ship, his hair waving in the wind like a flag

he didn’t look at you, not once, so you didn’t climb up. how could you when johnny was holding your hand with his eyes flickering back to you, or whatever was around you?

you introduced johnny to his new quarters and left him to be, feeling free for once in your life that night

morning came with the unfurling of your sails and your position in the crow’s nest. the sky was blue and cloudless, just like everyone predicted as the sea welcomed your crew into its arms

“ahoy, my hearties! off we go to find our next treasure!” you commanded joyously, the crew hurrah-ing in return at your enthusiasm. like most pirates did, your crew’s goal when off-land was to find a ship to rob and make off with their goods

you turned to the side, about to say something before realizing yuki wasn’t next to you. he must’ve slept in, that’s all. you didn’t question it even if he was always on time the years you knew him

disguising your expression of disappointment, you left your crew to their own means, sliding down the mast as per usual. when you landed, you noticed johnny standing awkwardly to the side as everyone was doing their own job

“hey, johnny! what are you muckin’ around for?” you questioned lightheartedly, slamming your freshly-shined boots (after an unfortunate drunk throw-up incident) upon the oak boards. johnny flinched from the sound, unaccustomed to the constantly-busy atmosphere of a large ship

“do you... need any help? i kinda, feel guilty just lazing about in my quarters.” johnny confessed, a red flush against his face as he rubbed the back of his permanently-sunburned neck. you were taken back for a moment, not used to being offered help

“um... you seem to know how to throw a person off their rhythm! i have nothing on mind as of now, hmmm....” after much consideration, you snapped your fingers with a start. “perhaps consider shadowing me for today! get the feel of a captain’s life—”

“no need, captain. i will take him off your hands for you.”

you turned to see yuki besides you, his feet silent and eyes attentive as always. you sensed the tension still imbedded between you two, gulping as you tugged at the collar of your shirt. for some reason, you immediately felt disappointed at the missing opportunity of tenma being with you

why were you feeling this way?! there was no reason to think like that as a busy, efficient pirate captain!

“thank you, yuki. return him in one piece, alright?” you joked, turning away to review what needed to be done that day. as you left, you didn’t notice yuki place a cold grip on johnny’s shoulder with an uncharacteristically eerie stoic pose

johnny looked after you, wondering what was behind that shroud of spirits who wanted nothing more than to see you freed of them

“you’re quite lucky the captain has taken quite a liking to you, johnny, was it?”

yuki & johnny found themselves ending the ship’s tour in the underground of the main deck, located along the cannons placed in their corresponding holes. the smell of gunpowder and flint was nearly suffocating, but yuki moved with ease and seemed to revel in johnny’s tight expression

“y-yes... the captain is very kind and charitable to take me on board.” johnny managed to get out without coughing, his eyes inspecting the materials and wondered how loud it truly was during battle

“you agreed to come so soon. you have no family of your own?” yuki asked innocently, mindlessly fixing the placements of the bombs behind the barrels. johnny shook his head, explaining it wasn’t an emotional attachment he had to fukusaki

“how... suspiciously fortunate.” yuki deadpanned, suddenly whipping around with a blank stare. it caught johnny off guard, who nearly stumbled back into a cannon. yuki wasn’t armed, but his tense demeanor and personality change was jarring

“listen, kid, i’ve got no clue who you are, but you have no reason to be upon this ship.” with every word, yuki seemed to come closer until his pointer finger pushed in the center of johnny’s chest

“you may have fooled everyone else, but our captain has always been too naive. i see right through you, johnny. who are you, really?”

johnny shuddered, backed against the wall and desperately holding onto anything that can keep his wobbly legs up. he didn’t know if it was the rocky seas or yuki’s simmering anger, but he felt like he was staring straight into one of those cannons

“i’m johnny, an island medium who sees ghosts on your captain. it is my duty to let them go, that’s all.”

a moment passed, before yuki took a few steps back. before johnny could react, he found the tip of a real sword pointed at his neck once again

“you’re lying, i know it. do not make me ask you again, who are you?”

johnny tried to remain placid in the face of a weapon, but he gritted his teeth and couldn’t help himself

“why the hell does it matter to you? are you in love with your captain or something?!”

silence, then yuki lowered his sword. he sheathed it back, before turning and leaving without another word. johnny let out a deep breath, sinking to the floor as he closed his eyes

if johnny listened hard enough, he could hear your spirits try to communicate with him. but, their voices were garbled and unlike anything he’s heard before. who were you and why was he here?

the first time you & johnny met in terms of spirits was two weeks after a pattern of sleepless nights

he already found you teetering close to the edge, your hands folded as you searched for something, or someone, past the blackened seas

it was as if some savage sea monster had spilt its ink-like blood into the waters, the once blue surface that reflected lucky skies now murky and as mysterious as the dark side of the moon

with your usual guarded glint now gone, you still seemed just as capable to be the one responsible for such dark seas

“good evening.” johnny mumbled lowly, placing the lantern besides his feet as he made his way next to you. you hummed, not particularly fazed by his sudden appearance despite not paying attention. it’s as if you had eyes in the back of your head, like a sea monster

“i suppose fukusaki isn’t used to the rocking of wooden ships?” you retorted, to which johnny sharply exhaled through his nose, a sign of amusement at your observation

“nay, but... i haven’t been able to properly maintain my sleep schedule ever since boarding. your spirits... are rather loud for ghosts.”

you full-on laughed at this, disturbing the intimate atmosphere between you two. johnny couldn’t help but smile at your worn-down exterior. you presented yourself like you were made of a glass bottle, but you were as intricate as a carved artisan ship

“try living with them your whole life, boy, then you can start complaining about their volume.” you jested lightheartedly, offering a soft smile at the newest recruit. as you leaned back onto the railing of the ship, you watched the constant surface of the waves, as if you could anchor your endless thoughts to davey jone’s locker

johnny mimicked your position, his elbow knocking into yours. his hands were much too soft for a seasoned sailor, you noticed this in the dim lantern light. for a moment, you let your impulses take over and you wondered how they felt against yours

“pardon my words, but when will you let me speak to them? i can never find you through the day...” johnny began to ask, but trailed off when your salted eyes and weariness became apparent in the way you exhaled quietly

“it is not your fault but mine, johnny. this is my ship and i am the captain, that’s all. i cannot allow myself to suddenly become weak in case i am needed.” you spoke like a true hero, well, as much of a hero a pirate could be

johnny didn’t exactly understand, considering he just got up and left his entire life on a whim of a promise to find out who he was. but, he nodded anyways, watching blurred movements of entities swirl around your head like troubled smoke

“what about now? will you let me—?” when johnny reached out, you immediately stepped back, your lips pressed in a straight line as if restraining your true reaction

“you look for every reason to touch me, don’t you?” you tried to force it out like it was nothing, but it was clear how your boots twisted like they were prepared to run away

when was the last time someone physically comforted you in any sense? or... comforted you at all?

“captain...” johnny mumbled, eyes wide with pity and you couldn’t stand it. he called you captain, but he didn’t revere you like a typical person would. he didn’t flinch at your sword or head held high, it was unnerving

“what is the purpose of having a crew if they cannot help you through this?”

the wind wailing against your ears reminded you of how little time there was in a day, and how the sun would rise soon and this cycle of pretending everything was okay would begin again

it was maddening, to live the same day again and again with no change

johnny perhaps was someone you looked forward to, a diversion from the expected

“do you consider yourself apart of my crew, then?” when johnny took a moment to think, you wondered what he was remembering. was it the night where misumi pretended to fall over board to scare everyone or was it when kazunari didn’t react to seeing a skeleton that time? was it when muku could predict every type of weather for the next day without fail or when yuki finally cracked at a joke after a hour of pretending nothing was funny?

or, was it when you two shared glances across the deck, clinked your glasses a little too long, or when your hands ghosted over another when pulling lines?

“yes, your crew is my own as well. and like them, i wish to help you, if you’d let me.”

you always found yourself unsure around johnny, unaware of how to respond in a way worthy of your pirate captain title. as you hesitated, johnny looked you in the eyes and his eyes reminded you of storm clouds thundering in the distance

“why else would you take me on the ‘sky’? if you didn’t want help?”

perhaps those were words you would reveal later, but you couldn’t bring yourself to share the real answer. it was a gut feeling that your world would be turned upside down, and you were right when you felt your throat dry at johnny’s hopeful gaze

johnny continued on, straightening his usual bent posture and his voice carried, like he was one with nature. as if they supported him unconditionally

“i know this is your own battle to win and this is your ship and you are my—our captain, but please... let’s make a deal.”

you stood, intrigued, as you witnessed a side of johnny never seen before. once meek, once easily intimidated, now talked to you like an equal

“let’s promise to say things we both really feel. be honest with me, do you want me to help? to remove the spirits and let them move on?” when you nodded, johnny let out a breath of relief and moved closer, gathering your hands in his. when you didn’t pull away and only tensed, he spoke as if he was sure things would change

“i can help you, i can make them go away. you bring me back to my home, i let your spirits go home. deal?”

“is that how you truly feel?”

“and more.” johnny’s eyes glanced down, and you felt your heart stutter as if the surface rocked

“i feel the same way. i wish to help you.”

that night, you remembered for the first time in a long time, a captain was nothing without its crew

[frostsinth]

Random Scene 1 - The Pirate King

Masterlist

Ok, so I’m going to start posting random scenes/WIPs I have. Some are multi-part-ers, some are just one-shots. Not everything is monster related. Not much editing, no real continuity. Just stuff I wrote because I wanted to write it. For example, this next scene... Well, enjoy it or whatever.

Thanks for being my follower! Hit me up if you have any questions or thoughts or comments or... anything... Ok Bye!

She looked around herself quietly, studying the grand fixtures and ornate columns. The hall felt almost like a throne room, with tall wooden pillars stretching up to the steepled ceiling and a plush carpet rolled down its center to the raised floor at the end. But instead of a throne, there was a table with five chairs set around it. One sat at the head of the table, the others equally set on opposite sides. Despite the decadence of the room, it also rang of a great, hollow ship, with the windows set behind the table not unlike the ones of a Captain’s quarters set into the back of a ship. She could see the skyline of the city through them, but the sea stretched more prominently beyond them, filling most of her view.

Chests of gold, chalices, necklaces, gems, and other sparkling treasures lined one wall, set amid cases of rum and bags of incense as well as rolled up rugs and fine silks. A trove of riches, the like of which she couldn’t have ever imagined. But she hardly spared them a glance as she moved quietly towards the raised floor, wondering exactly why she had been brought here.

She turned at the sound of the door opening, and found the two men who had tossed her in holding the broad double doors wide. Another man stepped in, hands clasped behind his back, a small platoon of fellows behind him.

He was tall, with broad shoulders and thick legs. His skin was leathery and tanned, with the same look as all the other sea-farers of the city she had seen so far. His clothes were of a fine material, with a sharp looking tunic over a pair of dark trousers and an equally dark vest with gold buttons atop that. But his coat was red, crimson like drying blood, with shiny gold fastens and gold embroidery at the edges. He wore a broad black hat upon his messy brown hair trimmed short at the sides and a scruffy beard.

The others followed behind him a few respectful paces, and they were similarly well dressed. Each had a weapon strapped to their belt, whether a sword or rapier or, in one case, a mace, varying from individual to individual.

She faced them hesitantly, light on her toes and not sure how to place herself. Still not even sure where she was or why she was there at all. The most forward man paused in the center of the room, considering her with one hand rested on the pommel of his cutlass.

“Who’s this then?” Growled one of the men behind him, crossing his arms with a scowl. He was older, with a hastily braided beard and a dirty looking face.

“Entertainment for the night?” Another proposed, smirking mischievously and eyeing her hungrily. His appearance was more sleek and colorful, with vibrant red hair and a dark purple vest in lieu of a coat like his companions.

“We have business to attend to.” Grumbled a wizened looking sailor, who didn’t seem too keen on her presence. He tapped the short sword at his waist, as if considering removing the distraction.

“Beggin’ pardon, sirs,” one of the pirates who held the door piped up.  “She’s the one from the Greenhorn--”

“Greenhorn?” Echoed the first speaker, running his hand over his beard, “I know that name. Who’s ship was--”

“Our meeting-” Interrupted the foremost pirate, silencing them all, “-Is being postponed.”

“Postponed!” Snapped the oldest of the group, “Ye can’t-”

“See yourselves out.” He waved his hand, dismissing them. Despite their babbling, he ignored them, striding forward over to the table. Catch had to step to the side to avoid being mowed over in his wake.

The men squabbled and snarked, but allowed themselves to be led out of the room by the men holding the door. A simply dressed older boy darted out with a gilded tray which held crystalline flutes and a decanter with a deep red liquid in it. He placed it upon the table, ducking his head and bowing out.

Catch watched the pirates being escorted. Waited for one of the men to come to fetch her and do the same. But they didn’t. The doors closed behind them, even as she watched. None of them had spared her a second look, and the room was plunged into silence once more.

Silence, except for the slight clink of glass as the man removed the top from the decanter on the tray. Quietly, he poured two glasses to their brim before replacing the decanter and picking up one delicately. He swirled the liquid about for a moment, sniffing at it thoughtfully before taking a slow sip.

“Your reputation precedes you.” The man said finally, with his back to her.

She looked around, but the room was empty aside from herself. “...Yours does not.”

His soft, amused laughed bounced about the polished wood of the chamber. “Aye, so you don’t know who I am?”

He had turned to face her as he spoke, so she shook her head. “Should I?”

“I should think so.” He took a sip, watching her for a moment. “After all, it was my ship you ruined.”

“Your ship?” She echoed, glancing over his shoulder at the horizon beyond the window.

He nodded, picking up the second glass and making his way down the few shallow steps from the elevated floor languishly. “Yes. One of many, of course. But, still, under my command.”

“If--”

“Your name is Catch, right?” He interrupted her before she could finish.

“..That’s what they call me.”

“Mmm.” He hummed, stopping a few paces away from her. “So I’ve heard. I’ve heard all of your story, actually. How the Greenhorn found you. How you created a brilliant plan that allowed even that fool Kartik to capture the ever elusive and festering Duermon.” He took a slow sip of his wine as he looked her up and down. “Of course I was fascinated. Intrigued.” He held out the second glass to her. “Especially how a girl fished out of the ocean managed to take out an entire ship’s crew and escape with their prisoners.”

She hesitated, glancing down at the offered glass. Gingerly, she took it from him. Even as he stalked slowly past her. She watched him out of the corner of her eye.

“Now, Kartik was not exactly the sharpest nail in the box,” He continued as he circled around behind her, “But Lestat? Now, he was one of my best and brightest. So imagine my surprise to find that not only was he duped,” he was to her right now, “But drugged with his own supply.”

Steeling herself, she turned, glaring at him. “If you are looking for your pound of flesh, go ahead and take it and spare me the theatrics.”

The man smirked, circling around to stop where he had started. “Apologies, my lady. I failed to give a proper introduction. Benedict Kunh, of Ship Kunh. First High Captain of Quassan.” He swept up her free hand with his, bringing it to his lips, “A pleasure to meet you.”

She tried to pull her hand from his, but he held it firmly. Gently, he kissed her knuckles.

“Should I be impressed?” She asked bitterly.

He raised an eyebrow, still holding her hand firmly. “By the most powerful man on the Western Coast? Perhaps. Or you should learn to be.”

Catch managed to scowl at him, despite the fear tickling at her stomach. “Don’t hold your breath.”

His smirk grew slightly. “I was told you were a tough lass,” He stepped even closer, “Your intelligence and stubbornness matched only by your beauty.” He pulled her closer to him, “I see no lie in that.”

The High Captain didn’t flinch at the wine she threw in his face, and even as the drink dripped down his jaw, he kept his eyes closed. But a dark look cast shadows over his features. Slowly, he released her hand and opened his eyes, turning and walking back towards the table. The boy darted forward, obviously terrified, placing a small pile of napkins on the table. He didn’t dare to meet the man’s gaze, eager to be away from his obvious wrath.

“If you intend to kill me or imprison me, please do so,” She told him angrily, “Otherwise, let me go.”

Benedict wiped his face down with a cloth napkin, dabbing it down the front of his neck before turning back to face her again. He smiled, as if unperturbed by her insult, the malice in his face suddenly gone.

“Oh, but I intend none of those things.” He told her, dropping the wine stained cloth on the table and refilling his glass.

She waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t, she crossed her arms angrily. “Then what?”

He turned, considering her. Then he gestured for her to come closer. She didn’t, offering him the best scowl she could. Despite the nerves in her stomach and the dread in her chest.

“Amuse me, my dear,” He implored her, extending his hand, “I want to show you something.”

After another long moment of silence, she did step forward, though she ignored his hand as she approached him. He curled it into the air behind her, guiding her further forward. She placed the glass on the table as they passed, but allowed herself to be led deeper into the chamber. To the great windows that lined the back wall.

“Tell me what you see.” He asked her when they had stopped before them.

Catch shrugged. “A city.” She jerked her chin at the horizon. “The sea.”

“This is my Kingdom,” he told her calmly, “My father and my grandfather before him were both First Captains. And I will do whatever it takes to keep it. For myself. For my sons.”

“Mazel Tov. What does any of that matter to me?”

He took a slow sip of his wine, then replaced the glass on the table behind them. “The strongest men are born of the strongest line. The line with the most grit, strength, intelligence.” She felt him moving closer to her, and the hairs on the back of her neck rose up on end. “Both from their father.” She almost jumped as his hands slid down her arms, “And their mother.”

Catch spun, stepping back. “What the hell are you--”

“My father always told me, when he was my age, he sought out the bravest, strongest, toughest woman he could find.” He interrupted, watching her even she backed further away from him, “And he made her his own.” The pirate took a step forward, closing the distance between them. “I intend to do the same.”

The window was at her back now. “Fuck off.”

That put a small smirk on his lips. “If what I hear is true, you are exactly the woman I have been looking for over the last two years.”

“Keep looking.”

He stepped even closer, blocking her escape. “I don’t need to,” He told her, “As soon as I saw you, I knew.” One hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist. She twisted it in his grasp. “And I knew I would make you mine.”

“You’ll die trying.”

“It is to your benefit as well,” He explained, ignoring her threat, “Your children will have the best possible life, and the best chance at life. Isn’t that what you want for them? Isn’t that what any mother wants?”

She wriggled in his grip. “I’m not a mother.”

A smirk. “That is easily remedied.”

His head snapped to the side from the force of her slap. Though if it surprised him, he didn’t show it. She ripped her wrist from his grasp, moving to step around him.

“I am sick and tired of you bloody fucking pirates thinking you can claim me for yourselves,” She snarled, “I don’t want or need a fucking man to decide my life for me, and if I have to beat every last one of you off with a damn stick, then I will.”

He raised his arm to block her escape, but made no other move to pin her or touch her. “Forgive me if I seemed overly forward, my dear; I am simply excited to have finally found you. I have met many women, great women all, and not one even came close--”

“I don’t care. Your life, your search, your plans. Those have nothing to do with me. Keep them to yourself.” She interrupted, moving to push past his arm.

He side-stepped, a small smile on his lips as he blocked her again. “I don’t believe you have--”

“Shut up. Leave me alone. And let me go.”

“You--”

Placing both hands on his chest, Catch shoved at him with all her strength. He fell back a step in surprise.

“Me nothing. I don’t care who you are.” She shoved him again. “I don’t care what you want.” Another shove. “I don’t care how long you have looked for it.” A final shove had him almost against the table. “You. Do. Not. Own. Me.”

The High Captain seemed more than a little surprised, watching her as she started to stalk off. At the last minute, she turned, pointing one angry finger at him.

“Not one single fucking one of you has ever even bothered to ask me my name let alone what I want.” She threw her hands up and stomped away. “So fuck the lot of you.”

He watched, considering her as she stopped beside one of the wooden beams. Crossing her arms and leaning against it angrily. Angry that she had no power to leave. Angry that she was right back where she had started. Angry that once again, she had no choices.

Slowly, calmly, he walked over. “We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot.”

Catch snorted, shaking her head. She didn’t bother to look at him.

The man moved with a lithe grace, as a man half his size might, as light as air but as formidable as a bull. When he stood before her once more, he tucked his hands in his pockets and looked her up and down. As a snake may a mouse before it strikes.

“I don’t suppose if I asked for your name now, your real name, you would give it to me?”

She shot him a dark look, and found herself caught in the darker shadows of his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat, and she swallowed a lump of fear building in her throat.

He smiled, and perhaps to the less wary it would have been quite disarming. But to her, it was merely a cobra baring its fangs with a hiss.

“Alright, then how about what you most desire in life?”

“Freedom.” She replied without hesitation.

He tsked softly. “What is freedom? Hmm?” The predator stalked closer. “I will grant you freedoms. You are free to roam my house. You are free to visit the gardens. You are free to go to market, so long as you take an escort with you.” He threw one hand wide, gesturing to the treasures lining the wall. “You are free to take whatever you’d like.” The Captain reached into the nearest pile, pulling out a pearl necklace. Coins clinked as he freed the necklace from their clutches. “You are free to anything that is mine.” He looked at her coyly. “So I have granted you freedom.”

“You have granted me a gilded cage.” She spat.

Benedict chuckled darkly, slowly reaching out with the necklace in both hands. He reached behind her, stepping closer to connect his hands together behind her neck. He was so close she could smell the salt air on him, mixed with the scent of smoke and rum. The pirate clasped the necklace together, then slowly traced his hands back along its length as it settled upon her collarbone. She didn’t move, casting her eyes downward. When he had reached the center of the chain, he released it. Then reached out and delicately untucked her hair from beneath it. His fingers brushed her skin as he did, and a chill ran down the back of her neck.

“What’s mine is yours,” He told her, “What greater freedom can I grant?”

His hand lingered in her hair, and he spun the curls around his fingertips. She pushed his hand away.

“Freedom to choose a life you do not have,” She said bitterly, “A life you would not choose for me.”

“Hmm,” He breathed again, “That is… not something I will grant.”

The words he chose were not lost on her, and she clenched her teeth angrily. He reached out again, skimming the back of his hand along her jaw lightly. Catch jerked away from his touch, moving to walk away from him entirely.

“Then I will find my own freedom,” She replied, then glanced over at the windows. “...However I can find it.”

The High Captain followed her, catching her wrist as she moved away. He spun her back to face him easily, despite her attempts to resist, and pulled her close.

“I have an alternative proposal.”

She twisted her wrist back and forth in his grasp, tempted to slap him again. “I’m sure I won’t like it either.”

Benedict smiled his dark smile, leaning over her as he held her hand against his chest. “Stay with me. Stay in my home. Stay at my table. Stay in my gardens--”

“In your bed?” She interrupted sourly.

His replying smirk made her skin crawl and her stomach turn in knots. She could almost see the dirty thoughts rolling behind his eyes.

“If you’d like.” He ran his thumb up and down the length of her hand still caught in his. “But regardless, stay.” He held up one finger, lifting their hands up between them as he did, his other digits still wrapped tightly around hers. “For one year. Just one year. If I have not convinced you to stay of your own will by then, you will be free to go.”

She twisted her wrist in his grasp. “No.”

He smiled again. “It is a good deal. I give you my word that I set you free at the end, and it’ll be your choice to stay or go.”

Again she yanked at her hand, but he held it firm. “No.”

He raised an eyebrow, considering her. “I feel I have been quite generous--”

“You have given nothing of value to you. No incentive. No risk.” She interrupted, finally managing to pull her hand free. She backed away. “So no. You have everything to gain, while I have everything to lose.”

The pirate considered that, running his now free hand over his beard. “Fine. I see your point.” He pointed out the window. “The first frosts will hit any day now. I propose that you stay until the first spring thaw. If your path takes you away from Quassan, you will likely need to sail. And all ships will be docked until then.” He pocketed his hand again. “So the day the first ship launches from port in the spring. I have until then.”

Catch considered that, looking out the window too. Honestly, what alternative did she have? Trying to escape. Trying to fight her way into the streets of a city she knew nothing about. To find allies she wasn’t sure even existed… or to take a more drastic freedom for herself…

“I have no reason to believe you’ll keep your word.” She argued.

He straightened slightly. “I am a High Captain of Quassan. My word is my bond.”

“Until you can break it.” She shot back. “You’re a pirate.”

The Captain huffed slightly. “Do you have any other choice?”

She studied him up and down, her face grim. “There’s always another choice.”

He waited patiently, watching her. And she watched him. Both waiting for the other to speak, or give some ground. Neither willing to be the first.

“Well? Do we have a deal?”

Shaking her head, she crossed her arms. “Addendum. No one can not touch me, you especially. You can not lie to me, or have your men lie on your behalf. You can not try to trick me, or hurt me. Or our deal is off, and I can leave. AND,” She added before he could speak, “If you do not convince me, or break any of these rules, not only can I leave, but I take your three best ships with me.”

That seemed to surprise him. “What do you want with three ships?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. Just that you won’t have them anymore.”

He grinned ear to ear. “I like a good bet.”

“So do we have a deal?”

He raised one finger into the air again. “Second addendum. You cannot try to leave, or escape.” A dark look crossed his face, “And you may pursue no other man, nor allow pursuit.”

Catch almost rolled her eyes, but decided against it. She shrugged instead, sighing exasperatedly.

“Further,” He continued before she could speak, “I will add another addendum. Or more, an edit to the wording of yours,” He told her, “I cannot touch you… unless you ask me to.”

She scowled, shaking her head. “I will never.”

His grin grew by a few molars. “Then there is no need to worry.” The pirate king extended out his hand into the air between them. “...Deal?”

She eyed his hand.

He smirked apologetically. “The last time I’ll touch you without express permission, I promise.”

Sighing, she extended her own hand. “Fine. Deal.” What other choices did she have?

Benedict took her hand firmly in his and gave it a gentle shake.

She almost couldn’t stand the shit-eating grin on his face. As they slowly released hands, he took a step closer.

“...Don’t suppose you’d tell me your real name now, would you?”

“Fuck off.”

[gabenathreversebang]

GabeNath Reverse Bang 2020 Masterpost

Lady in Blue

When Gabriel akumatizes Audrey again, it goes awry and backfires on him. When he, Ladybug and Chat Noir are compromised, Nathalie decides it’s time for her to take matters into her own hands.

Fanfic, archived Art, archived

Changing Hearts and Changing Tides

The Agreste boys and their plus one, Nathalie, have decided to spend the week in a cabin by the coast. While Gabriel tries to mend his fractured relationship with Adrien, Nathalie is more or less there to keep the peace, but she soon finds herself out of her depth. With emotions shifting as frequently as the tide can the trio band together and take strides towards the future, or will they be swept out to sea and left hanging?

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Your Sword and Shield

The last time the Graham de Vanilys showed up to the Agreste mansion, they proved they are not to be trusted. Nathalie should have known Amelie would go to treacherous lengths to get under her skin. After a tense confrontation and the shocking reveal of a new villain, Nathalie must step into a new role to protect the one she loves.

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A Moment of Reflection

After a particularly upsetting defeat, Gabriel is feeling like it might be time to throw in the butterfly brooch and move on. Nathalie tries to encourage him to continue but even she has some reservations about the idea. The two have a heart to heart over some brandy and learn things about each other.

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well, of course i’ve tried lavender

K O E L N @archekoeln you think, i didn’t know mayura was the type to resort to something like this? but you’re wrong, because now you’re being carried like a sack of potatoes above paris and, 3/11

K O E L N @archekoeln well, the view’s nice and all but you’re also in the arms of a villain??? 4/11

K O E L N @archekoeln you also think, how is she so strong??? because you know you aren’t as light as a feather (haha i’m funny) and her arms are skinny af, but you know, magic i guess 5/11

or

An online thread about Mayura sparks something in Gabriel. And as her boss (and friend, and villainous partner, and her something), isn’t it his job to… to do what exactly? Well, even he doesn’t know.

Fanfic, archived Art, archived

Not All Heroes Wear Capes

Superheroes, in daily life, usually remained hidden. Men and women, bestowed with god-like powers, living among those whose only powers remained in their knowledge and talents. One of these heroes was Mayura, a peacock-themed superheroine with the power to create new life. As more laborers were going on strike, Mayura’s efforts to keep the economy from deflating were more crucial than ever. Because of her, livelihoods were kept intact for the destitute. For the corporate overlords, however, she was the bane of their luxurious existence. But what does this mean to Gabriel Agreste?

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Broken Arrow

Ordinary innkeeper Nathalie is plagued with visions of a captive Gabriel, begging for help. She sets out to recruit his son Adrien, the Demigod of Love, to aid her in freeing Gabriel from Emilie, the goddess of beauty. But Nathalie doesn’t know the secret that Adrien keeps from her that may tear them all apart.

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Gabriel’s Inferno

Nothing seemed to predict how it all would end, and yet it had to have been obvious. It had been weeks since Mayura’s last appearance and he didn’t even let her go out to fight in person, but a broken miraculous doesn’t get carried away by precautions once it’s activated. With Nathalie balancing between life and death, Gabriel will have the opportunity to fix things or lose himself forever in a hellish battle that will overcome all nightmares.

Fanfic (English), archived Fanfic (Spanish), archived Art, archived

If I Could Turn Back Time

Gabriel and Nathalie obtain the rabbit miraculous and travel into the paths of time as Velveteen and Mayura, with the goal of preventing the chain of events that would lead to Emilie’s death. But on their way to Tibet, they encounter surprising visions of possible futures that leave them questioning what is possible and what they really want.

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This is Hallowe’en

With All Hallow’s Eve hanging over their heads, the Agreste household gets wrapped into celebrating Samhain. With Gabriel and Adrien following Nathalie’s knowledgeable path, they can not fail, probably. This moderately functional family will honor Emilie Agreste in the best ways they can.

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Malleable Fates

A red thread starts materializing around Gabriel’s finger nearly two decades after he’s already found his soulmate. As he and Nathalie devise a faultless plan to finally win Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous and bring back his wife, Gabriel fights the onslaught of confusing feelings brought about the mysterious reappearance of his soulmate string - including the sneaking suspicion that his soulmate maybe isn’t who she used to be.

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The Splintered Soul Staring Back At Me

In the aftermath of the battle and a brief hospital stay, Nathalie is safe at home. Her recovery has been a bit stagnant, but she’s been granted leave from work and the miraculous is finally fixed. Things can only go up from here, right?

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With the Flap of a Butterfly’s Wing

It only took one little thing, the barest of moments, for Duusu to feel their love, and decide that they had to do something about it. Which was how Duusu ended up roping Nooroo into trying everything under the sun to match up their two stubborn holders.

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The Orders He Defies

After her husband’s death, Nathalie Sancoeur fell into deep despair. Determined to bring him back, she set her goal on obtaining the Black Cat and Ladybug miraculous, using the power of her own one. All her attempts for the last year, however, were futile. Should she remain careful? Or should she let it all burn, as her assistant Gabriel suggests she should? And is the goal even worth its price?

Fanfic (English), archived Fanfic (Ukranian), archived Art, archived

Royal Pain

Nathalie liked to think that she would make a pretty good king. If she had been born as the opposite sex, anyways. But as the facts were, Princess Nathalie Sancoeur had a duty thrust upon her that she would rather have not, all things considered: to be married to a foreign prince, in order to bring good fortune to her family and kingdom, and bolster their strength should the rapidly-cooling relations with one of the neighboring countries turn into a full-blown war. It was enough to make her gag every time she thought of it.

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Dancing on Broken Glass

It was Lila that almost reduced Paris to rubble.It was that conflict that caused an irreversible change to two miraculous holders.It was that change that brought them together.

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Anagnorisis

«Define Hubris»

Gabriel never considered how much a Deus Ex Machina would cost.

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Worth

It’s been seventeen years since Nathalie and Gabriel sat in the cramped studio working hard to get the brand off the ground, and now he can’t help but reflect on those long-forgotten years.

Before Emilie. Before Adrien. Before the money and fame.

As he looks at her across his desk… he wonders if it was all worth it.

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A Witch’s Desire

Gabriel Agreste was a peculiar man, who was known around town both as a famous fashion designer and a powerful witch who was able to read and control minds, though he never used that second power unless there was a real emergency. Heck, he barely even used the first. But after losing his wife, Gabriel becomes desperate to do anything he can to bring her back, even that means using his powers for evil, or tracking down a mysterious powerful witch who had disappeared many years ago, with the power to bring the dead back to life.

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Not a Minute of Peace

Even though the akuma wants to shackle them, the Collector and Catalyst have more freedom than Gabriel and Nathalie ever had. They may be criminals turned into prey, but they enjoy the hunt. There is only one thing they are running from.

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Revision

Nathalie made the wish.

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The Woman With The Golden Feathers

The annual Bourgeois masquerade comes at the right time for Gabriel. In a moment of personal uncertainty after his discreet divorce, he will find the possible answer in a mysterious lady with golden feathers.

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Time and Time Again

The stress of being a young designer trying to make it in the fashion industry is taking its toll, and Gabriel’s and Nathalie’s marriage is slowly unraveling.

They’ve stood the tests of life since their first year of university, but when everything comes crashing down, Gabriel finds himself stuck reliving the day it happened. Failing and falling, time and time again with every passing ‘day’. Why is he here? How can he stop it? The answer lies in a choice as to what matters more: his career or the woman who has stood by him through it all.

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Clarity

A year after Hawkmoth’s surrender, Gabriel asks Nathalie to join him to gaze at the stars. While she waits for him, she contemplates the empty space left by the removal of the portrait from the foyer hall. Growth ensues for them both as they learn to just be by each other’s side.

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C’est la Vie; C’est le Ballet

After the death of his wife, upstart choreographer Gabriel Agreste is looking for a new star for his ballet, Miraculous. Hard to please and willing to do whatever it takes for the sake of the show, none of the auditionees fit his artistic vision…

…except Nathalie, a former prima ballerina turned ballet instructor. She’s stoic and very dedicated to her craft, but there’s a reason she stopped performing four years ago and it has dangerous potential.

Through the trials and triumphs and betrayals that run hand in hand with the world of ballet, Gabriel and Nathalie begin to find something more in each other’s company, and perhaps the seeds of new beginnings.

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I’m Praying (There’s Saving)

It was to be Gabriel’s first party on Olympus, but little did he know it would also be the last. Not only for him, but for everyone. In the blink of an eye everything changed, sending the god of nature and his newborn son to take refuge with the Queen of the Dead. They thought they were safe, but even the depths of the underworld couldn’t escape the King’s wrath forever.

Fanfic, archived Art, archived

[abluescarfonwaston]

Did someone ask for a quick and angsty immortal jaskier prompt? "It was supposed to be the music," he whispered, voice breaking. Heart breaking. "The songs. I wanted my songs to be remembered forever. I never wanted this."

Why would you do this to me anon. i’m already crying over the fact dandelion outlives everyone he loves. Major Character Death Warning. Obviously. Literally everyone dies. Uuuh also this kinda turns into Lambert/Jaskier at the end but like. They’re both Centuries old so nothing Happens.

When the wasting sickness swept through Lettenhove it killed his Mother and his Father and his Sisters and left him untouched. 

He was ten and the world was over. Except he kept waking up in the morning.

At thirteen a girl at Oxenfurt, Essi Daven, played her Lute in the commons and sang and had the most beautiful cornflower blue eyes. And for the first time in years he sang a duet with her and suddenly he was a bard and he had a little sister again. 

Maybe the world hadn’t ended. Maybe it finally restart.

At seventeen he met a man with white hair and seemly as many scars on his body as his heart and fell in love. Because Bards fell in love easily and he was impossibly easy to love.

The witcher plead for his life. Plead for them to let the bard go.

“No. Both of us or neither.” He was done outliving those he loved. At seventeen he was already done with that. “You kill him and let me go and i’ll destroy your mountain. Kill every last one of you in revenge.”

He’d leave behind a song. The one he’d written as a child and had swept the town more devastating than even the scarlet fever had been. It would live on past him. He would be remembered. The people he loved would be too. Toss a coin to your Witcher. The people he loved immortalized in song.

It wasn’t supposed to make him immortal.

“Give it a rest Jaskier.” Danity snapped. “It’s not you that has to be afraid of anything. No one ever touches a troubadour. For unfathomable reasons you’re inviolable.”

He’d still feared then. Chappelle could have had him killed. He was pretty sure he could die. Mostly he feared the pain. Or dying alone.

“When an old woman gets tired of life she walks into the woods without a weapon. The results are guaranteed.” He’d told Geralt when he’d moaned about how the world was changing and -more importantly- that he had no work.

Remember how I don’t even carry a knife when I follow you out on an adventure? No weapons at all. Ever. Just me and my lute.

He’d brushed death. A thousand times he’d almost met her. He followed Geralt- who was prophesied to always have death follow after him. You’d think at some point they’d meet.

Essi and Geralt fell in love on the coast. He wrote a ballad for them. About how their love was so powerful not even death could come between them.

He never played it. Not to anyone. He didn’t think it was actually about Essi and Geralt.

When rash appeared on Essi’s face in Vizima during the quarantine his hands shook.

“Not her.” He’d screamed at the gods. They didn’t exist of course. If they had then they’d abandoned them all long ago. “Not her.”

“Jaskier?” She shivered violently. “I don’t want to be burned.”

“You won’t be. You’re going to be fine.” He promised. Clutching her hand. “Promise Poppet. You’re going to be fine.”

The cremation fires blazed outside.

“I want to be buried in the woods. With my lute and-” She hurled mostly into the bucket. “My necklace. Please Jaskier.”

“Course Poppet. When you’re old and grey I will bury you out in the forest.”

“Thank you.” She clutched the little pearl. “For giving me him. I love him.”

“I never saw him happier than when he was with you Poppet.”

“What about when he was with you?”

“Oh come now.” He shifted her in his arms and moved the bucket a little further away. “You know me. I’m insufferable.”

“I love you Jaskier.” She cried as she shivered with less and less energy.

“I love you too Poppet.”

He carried her from the city. Into the forest. Her heart stopped beating before they arrived. He dug her grave and buried her with her lute and her pearl necklace.

With the pearl he’d given to her as a birthday gift. From him and Geralt.

When Regis passed it felt absurd. Humans weren’t supposed to outlive goddamn vampires in their fifth fucking century.

And then there was Geralt. Died in Yennefer’s arms along with her.

“It was supposed to be me.” He told no one as Ciri led their bodies out to the lake. “I was supposed to die with him.” Love so great not even death can part us.

But the story was never really about him was it?

Nenneke had a garden full of plants that grew under a crystal skylight. They didn’t grow anywhere else in the world anymore.

He’d asked Geralt about it. She’d said something about the sun and how it was changing. Apparently Geralt had asked why they all didn’t live under crystal skylights then, if it was so deadly.

“It’s already too late for us.” She’d said.

She talked liked the world was ending but the world ended all the time. And he still woke up in the morning.

Zoltan’s beard turned grey. He supposed he should have been thankful that Zoltan got to turn grey. It was better than most of the people he’d loved.

“How’s your fucking hair still Gold. You’re supposed to be getting old too!”

“I dye it.” He lied with a roll of the eyes. He’d stopped dying it years ago.

That winter he buried Zoltan too.

Golden eyes stared at him in confusion. “You look just like.” He started. His thin hair was grey. His wolf medallion gleamed in the sunlight that streaked into the bar.

“You’re one of the last Witchers i think.” He told him as the waves crashed outside. “Might even be the last.”

“Fucking hope so.” He sat down across from him and stole his beer. “Shitty job and a shitty life.” He squinted at him- which Jaskier knew was entirely unnecessary. He just forgotten to adjust his eyes. “What’s your name bard?”

“Dandelion.” He answered. It had been for the last century. “Yours?”

“Lambert.” He downed the drink. “You really think i’m the last? That worth a song? One of my brothers had a lot of songs.”

“Yes I suppose he did.” He waved for another drink. “And look what it got him.”

“Died surrounded by people who loved him.”

“Are you sure you know what a pogrom is?”

That got him a sharp toothy grin.

“I could write you a song but-” He was tired of burying people he loved.

“But?”

“I’m cursed you see.” It was definitely a curse these days. “I’ll live until the last of my songs is forgotten. I really don’t need anymore material.”

Lambert leaned forward curiously. “Doesn’t sound like a curse.”

“You don’t think it sounds like a curse?” He sneered. Lambert’s face faltered. “To outlive everyone you love?”

Lambert paused. Thinking. “Write me a song then. Play it just for me. So if my song’s the last we’ll go together.”

“And what’s my payment for this song?”

“Company.” Lambert’s grey eyes glittered. “You look like you need it.”

“Not as much as you. I bet you talk to your horse.”

“Well i know you do pretty boy. Heard you in the stable.”

He leaned back on the bench. “So what’s a Witcher do in a world without monsters?”

He shrugged. “Fish mostly.”

“I can do that. Once almost snagged a catfish the size of you. Got a djinn instead. Very bad deal honestly.”

“You expect me to believe that? I know about Bards and Ballads and how you’re all rotten liars.”

“Don’t forget about fisherman and their tales.”

The boat leaked worse than an old drunkard but it was small enough and the lake calm enough that it didn’t make him sick.

“I could just kill you. Curse probably can’t fix decapitation.” Lambert offered with his stick in the water. He claimed were bombs they could use instead if they got desperate. Or bored.

He smiled and shook his head. “Give it a try.”

Lambert raised an eyebrow but pulled a silver blade from it’s sheath.

His pole reeled and the boat tilted to the side, plunging him and the sword into the water.

He laughed as the attempted to drag the monstrous fish to the boat. Lambert cursed and climbed in. Yanking at the rod until the line snapped and they fell back into the boat in a painful pile. Laughing.

He didn’t remember the last time he’d laughed.

“Sing me a song bard.” Lambert would request from under his floppy sun brimmed hat. “No else up here but me.”

“There’s an entire stone keep on the hill.”

“No ones lived there in centuries. No one can hear you up here but me.”

He frowned at the ruins on the hill. Lambert kicked him.

He grinned and for the first time in decades - sang.

Maybe. Maybe the world hadn’t ended. Maybe it had finally restart.

“What was this place called?” He asked as they wandered through the crumbled ruin, covered in moss and ivy.

“Kaer Morhen.” He said like the words hurt him.

They hurt him too. He laughed.

He laughed some more.

He couldn’t stop laughing until Lambert smacked him hard enough to see stars.

“I never got to come here. Geralt.” He caught the flinch but moved past it. “Never trusted me enough to even let me know which country it was in.”

“So you were his bard.”

He nodded as Lambert kicked a stone apart. “He was right not to tell me of course. But.” It still hurt that his best friend hadn’t trusted him with his home. He’d taken Yennefer here. But not him. Never him.

He didn’t deserve Geralt’s trust. A thief, a liar, a spy, a bard. It still hurt.

“Well a wolf finally took you here. Is it everything you fucking dreamed?”

He took it in. “Nah. It’s rubbish.”

Lambert smirked. “Yeah. At least that hasn’t changed.”

“You’re hairs getting grey bard.”

“What?” He nearly leaped into the water in his haste to look.

Grey strands streaked his beard.

“Thank you.” He cried. “Thank you.”

“Still owe me that song Dandy.”

He wrote Lambert a lot of songs. Performed for an audience of one.

“Are you really okay with the fact no one will ever hear them? I mean what’s the point in being immortalized in song if-”

“Yeah. Didn’t give a shit about the songs.”

“Hey!” He protested. Kicking him where he lounged in front of the fire. “They’re good songs!”

He grunted in fake pain. Wiggled out of range. “Did Geralt ever tell you why he liked having you around?”

“My charming personality I assume.”

Lambert snorted.

He sat down on the floor and poke him. “Don’t fall asleep. Tell me why you think he did.”

“No one tells Witchers bedtime stories.”

“Oh.” Lambert was halfway to sleep already. “Would you like one?”

“Yeah.”

“What you think happens after?” They were huddled together. Old and grey as a storm raged outside. “We die.”

“I gave up on gods when i was a child.”

“So did i.”

“Then.” He paused. Listened to the howl. “Whatever’s next at least neither of us is going alone.”

Lambert squeezed his bony hand. “What’s the chance we see them again?”

“Hm.” He pretended to consider. “Well we’re definitely going to hell so-”

“Like anyone we gave a shit about wouldn’t be.”

“Point.”

He closed his golden eyes. “Hey Dandy.”

“Yeah?”

“Sing me out.”

“It’d be my pleasure.”

And quite singing filled the drafty cabin until the song stopped.

The world ended.

And at long last no one woke up in the morning.

[bittydragon]

The Borrower of L’Manburg (Pt.1)

Notes: So for starters, this story is actually written by a friend of mine on discord. They asked if I would be willing to share this with you all and here we are! I’ve enjoyed reading their writing as the story progresses (and if you didn’t see in the title there are more parts in the making!) With that all said, their story is really good, so I hope you enjoy their writing as much as I do!

It had been a while since you had fled your home in L'manburg, but not nearly long enough to be able to move out of this cursed house that you had had to move into for the time being. You somehow chose what was possibly the worst building to ever live in. The dictator and his VP lived here; the ones that uprooted your life and destroyed the protective walls of the nation you called home. You were terrified every time you had to go out for supplies, but you couldn't survive another long journey to any other nearby building yet. Piercing loud yelling broke your train of thought.

"Quackity, I swear to God, don't you fucking touch that!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" A different voice yells back, laughing. The man behind that voice was a bit younger- Quackity is his name, the Vice President of the dictatorial president. He also seems to be a whole lot nicer in private than he showed when he was ripping down the walls that protected you. You tuned back in to their conversation, but it was too late. You hear the front door slam, and silence.

They had left. This gives you the perfect opportunity to go scavenging. These guys aren't exactly tidy- they leave everything out in the open, which is the only reason why you hadn't risked your life to escape to get somewhere else quite yet. You remove the pixels of the block you had hallowed out for yourself and look around, just to make sure the coast is clear. After replacing the pixels, you make your way across the counter of the whitehouse's kitchen, which is actually just a space below the stairs, with just a crafting table and a few furnaces. Once you get to the furthest furnace away, you clip your fishing rod string to the corner pixel and swing down to check for any leftover cooked food. There's some cooked chicken, so you grab just one pixel of it. You don't want to risk them noticing anything.

Just as you've swung yourself down to the middle furnace, you hear a loud thump upstairs, and freeze. The color and warmth drains from your face in an instant as footsteps begin thundering down the stairs that are right over your head. Oh, fuck…

You scramble to pull yourself up and unhook the string, but it's too late. You hear the clink of the door opening behind you, and your body turns cold. You can't see it, but you can feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of your head.

"What the actual fuck?" His voice seems slightly amused.

You're sweating bullets, but all of your senses suddenly hit you all at once. RUN. So, you bolt. You're sure that this is the fastest you've ever ran in your life, but somehow he's faster and slams his hand down in front of you.

"Oh hell no, you aren't going anywhere! You're staying right here, you tiny fuckin idiot." He laughs at you condescendingly as you slam into his hand and bounce off, flat on your back. When you try to sit up, he puts his index finger on your stomach to pin you down as he looms over you menacingly. "What, you really thought I'd just let you leave? I gotta know what the fuck you are!" He chuckles without a single attempt to comfort you. Can he even see that you're hyperventilating? You aren't sure.

Realizing that your hands are free, you pull out your swords and slash his finger in one swift motion, drawing blood immediately.

"AH, SHIT!" His scream thunders in your ears. He pulls away to look at the damage you did, and you swiftly scramble up and continue your escape to your block. "Hey!"

You're stopped mid sprint as your sword is snatched away from you, and you stumble a little bit. A moment later, you're also snatched up by the opposite hand. Another moment later, and you're held up in front of a giant, horned face of the man- and he looks absolutely pissed.

"You little piece of shit! What the fuck was that for? I didn't do nothin' to you!" Those words coming from him fill you with rage, but you don't want to piss him off any more.

"Let me go!" You squeak, squirming in his fist, your arms pinned to your side this time. Only your head and shoulders peak out of his hand. He raises his eyebrows at the sound of your voice, obviously a bit surprised.

"Hell no!" He looks at his other hand, at the finger you had slashed. He sucks on it for a second just to clean the blood off. "Not after that shit you just pulled. You're a violent little thing! What are you anyways, huh? Where'd you come from?"

"I'm a villager! Now let go of me!"

"Wh-What?" He laughs loudly. "You aint no fuckin' villager! You're smaller than a bee!"

"Yeah, thanks, I couldn't tell. I am a villager. At least, I used to be."

"What the fuck happened to you then, huh? A witch got you? When did they make that update?"

"Yeah, sure, a witch." You shiver at the memory of what happened to your village. Dream and Technoblade. You'll never forget.

He sets the fist you're in down on top of the furnace and leans over, resting his other elbow on the furnace as well. "Well c'mon, you gotta tell me your life story, I'm so very interested." Sarcasm drips from his stupid muttonchops.

"Piss off." You scowl at him. You remember how Dream had threatened the whole village if anyone ever said anything to anyone. Schlatt uses his thumb to nudge your head, just to annoy you. He smirks and chuckles.

"Y'know, you're kinda cute. I might have to keep you around." Your eyes widen at that.

"What? Keep me?"

"Yeah! Like a pet or some shit. Build you a little terrarium or something." He snickers.

You start to struggle in his grip again, which immediately tightens out of instinct. "Let me go! I'm not staying here with you, you crazy bastard!"

"Woah, woah, why the hostility, Jesus! Relax! I'm great to be around, I don't know why you're freaking out. You'd love Quackity, too." He stares off into space for a moment in thought of his new VP.

"No! I'm not staying with either of you! You ruined my home in L'manburg!" You fight with all your might to free yourself from his hold.

His eyes light up with something you can't quite place, but it isn't good. "Ohoho! So that's where you came from! L'manburg, huh? What the fuck did Wilbur do to you!" He laughs so hard that he has to straighten himself standing up. "Y'know, I rule L'manburg now. So you're technically my citizen. I rule you." He chuckles at your pitiful attempts to get free. "You're just as pathetic as all the other citizens I rule. Except with you, I can hold you in my hand. Oh yeah, you aren't going anywhere, anytime soon."

You didn't know it was possible to laugh as hard as he is.

~

You huff as you pace back and forth, glancing out the glass he had trapped you in. He had taken away your sword earlier, but before he had trapped you he had taken all of your supplies- your hook, your climbing equipment, your toolbelt, everything besides the pixel of cooked chicken. He said that you had 'earned' that.

Whenever you glance out the glass, you see Schlatt laying in his bed, turning a little bit every once in a while. You sigh, knowing that his VP will be home soon. At least that's what Schlatt told you before he went to sleep.

Speak of the devil, you hear the sound of the front door, muffled by the glass that surrounds you.

Fuck.

"Schlatt, I'm back! I got some extra food and coal and stuff!" A chest opens and then closes a few moments later.

You pushed yourself up and looked around for somewhere to hide. You see nothing. You're out in the open, trapped in glass, without anything to protect yourself. Double fuck. Footsteps can be heard coming up the stairs.

"Schlatt? I- Oh!" Quackity switches his voice to a whisper. "Shit, I didn't know he was sleeping." He giggles to himself. You push yourself to the far back corner away from him, which backfires on you immediately. Quackity swivels around, hearing the slight scuffling noise you made when moving. His eyes widen, as do yours, and he freezes. "What the fuck…?" He whispers, eyes locked with yours. He takes a step forward, causing you to press back even more. He notices.

"Hey, hey, it's okay! Don't be scared! I'm not gonna hurt you." His voice is a lot more calming than Schlatt's, especially since Quackity is still whispering, trying not to wake up Schlatt. You realize that you're shaking when you glance over at Schlatt. He notices that as well.

"Did… Did he trap you?" You nod in response. He squats down so he's not looming over you. "Oh Jesus. Uh… what exactly are you?"

You sigh internally, really not wanting to have to explain it each time. You decide to just give him what you refer to yourselves ever since Dream got your village. "I-I'm a borrower." You reply simply.

His eyes light up and he grins when he hears you speak. "Oh my god. You're so cute." He laughs, then looks over to Schlatt, who tosses a bit in his sleep.

"Can… Can you let me out? P-Please?" Your shaking slowly lessens, realizing that Quackity probably doesn't have the same intentions as Schlatt does. His eyes snap back to you. There's now pity in them.

"Oh… uh… I-I can't," he rubs the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. He… He would kill me if I did that." You wince at the second realization that it's not gonna be easy getting out of here. You sigh and slump down into the corner of the glass container, rubbing your face.

"It's okay! He's not as bad as he seems once you get to know him. You might like him! Eventually…!" He gives you a little smile. "What's your name?"

"(Y/n)." You hesitate a moment. "You're less scary than him. Thanks for being… nicer."

He grins again. "What are you talking about? I'm very intimidating! I'm way taller than you." He stands up to his normal height, his shadow falling over you. A shiver runs down your spine.

"Okay, okay! You're scary too!" You giggle nervously, and he laughs.

"It's alright (Y/n), I promise nobody's gonna hurt you, not on my watch." As if on cue, Schlatt stirs from the bed, making Quackity cringe as he sits up.

"Quackity? You better not be touching the little thing in the glass that I found. I'll kick your ass." Schlatt grumbles and yawns. You try to make yourself smaller in the little corner you've claimed as he gets up, stretching even taller as he approaches Quackity and the glass container.

"No, I haven't touched her."

"Good. Don't. It's mine."

"Where did she come from?"

Schlatt is fully awake once he asks that question, grinning. "Well, apparently our little visitor here came straight from L'manburg! Isn't that cute?" He sneers in your direction.

Quackity's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, what? You're from L'manburg?!" You saw his pity again. "You didn't tell me that."

You cringe. "It… It didn't come up-"

"Oh! You two've been talking! What did it tell you, Big Q?" When Schlatt looks at you, all you see is malice.

"Just… her name… and what she is…?" He fidgets nervously.

"Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"Please don't-"

"Ah ah ah! Shush! Go ahead, Quackity!"

Quackity gives you an apologetic look. "Her name is (Y/n). She's a borrower." With that, Schlatt's face lights up like a Christmas tree, and he starts laughing maniacally.

"So…! You lied to me, huh?" He catches his breath after laughing. "I didn't even care much for your name, but what the fuck's a 'borrower' and how many of you little rats are around here?" He rests his weight on his hands, placed in front of you behind the glass. You start shaking again.

You push yourself away from him. "I didn't lie! I-I haven't seen anyone else around in years. I don't know. There's nobody else here or in L'manburg." You ramble, looking anywhere and everywhere but his face.

"Schlatt, c'mon man, you're scaring her." Quackity tries to push him back, but Schlatt slaps his hand away. Your eyes widen- that much force on you would kill you instantly, but it was practically nothing to them.

"Don't touch me. What I do with her is none of your business. I found her."

"Yes it is! I'm not gonna let you hurt her when she can't do anything to you!" Quackity yells back, taking Schlatt by surprise.

"She's from L'manburg! She could easily be Wilbur's little bitch sent here to get information!" Who's Wilbur?

"She doesn't know anybody. She's innocent, just leave her alone, man!"

"Fine." Schlatt steps over to your glass container, and opens the top. His hand reaches in and fills up your entire field of vision. You squeak in fear and push yourself back into your corner.

Since you made it hard for him, Schlatt has to pick you up between his thumb and index finger, on your stomach and back respectively. You squirm at first, but you grab on tight as your stomach drops when he lifts you up and out of the container. "No no no! Please!"

"If you want to protect her, then here, catch." Within a second, you're flying through the air, screaming your lungs out. You gasp when you land on your back onto a warm, plushy surface, frozen in shock, mouth agape.

"Schlatt what the fuck! You can't just do that to her, she's tiny!"

"Too late. She's your problem now, anyways."

Quackity protectively holds you close to his chest, shielding you as Schlatt walks by him and down the stairs. "If you let her run free to Wilbur I'm gonna hunt her down!" You both hear the front door slam shut.

[crashingmeteorz]

rich kid runaways (ft. yuexzukoxtoph friendship)

for my 100 Followers Celebration - credit to @aroacebitchboi for this amazing idea!

zuko faces his father in the agni kai, and when he is told what he must do in order to be welcome in his homeland again, he just says “fuck this” and runs away.

he’s not sure where he’s gonna go, just that he has to get out, and fast, because his dad’s gonna kill him. like. for real. so he stows away on a fire navy ship headed Literally Anywhere Else (and maybe the soldiers don’t care! because he’s 13 and hurting children is a disgrace! maybe they sneak him food and blankets idk!)

yue, meanwhile, in the north pole, has just been told she is going to enter an arranged marriage for the good of her people when she turns 16. respectfully, she asks her father what exactly this marriage will do, politically speaking. the north isn’t at war with itself, in fact they’re more united than ever. maybe if it were a southern water tribe boy, sure, but no, it’s going to be a northern boy.

her father just tells her it’s imperative to the stability of the tribe that they uphold tradition. yue, realizing this is bullshit, even at the tender age of 13, says “fuck this”, and runs away.

she is all but screwed without waterbending or any practical survival knowledge - except, she’s been chosen by the moon spirit. when she steals a boat and heads south, the moon takes pity on its ward and keeps her safe, at least on her waterbound journey. once she lands on the northern shores of the earth kingdom, yue depends on the kindness of strangers to survive.

zuko, meanwhile, is angry and mistrustful and afraid when he ends up on the western shores of the earth kingdom, and he depends entirely on his determination to survive. he learns to live off the land the hard way, and avoids major cities and towns for fear of being found out as a firebender. of course, if he’s ever spotted, he’s regarded with pity and empathy because of the festering burn on his face, but zuko doesn’t realize that.

yue never stays in one place too long, bouncing from family to family and learning more skills in a few months than she was ever taught in her whole life up north. she cooks and cleans and sews, yes, but she also farms and skins hunted animals and does house repairs. she is happily taken into homes because of her ability to heal - though never a waterbender, yue still learned basic healing with the other northern women, and can manage even bad wounds all on her own.

afraid she’ll be recognized by her vibrant hair, however, yue continues her journey south, considering running to the south pole for sanctuary. she wonders how their women are treated. zuko, meanwhile, lives alone in the wilderness most of the time, and moves very slowly up the west coast.

they’re 14 when their paths cross. three fire nation soldiers harass yue while she’s journeying along a rural road, asking her for a made-up toll. usually trading in work, yue has no money to speak of. the soldiers threaten violence, and, though he is afraid of being caught by his countrymen, zuko was never one to let bullies have power over the innocent.

he emerges from the forest, swords in hand, attacking the soldiers. at first it seems like he has the upper hand - and then he stumbles, and the soldiers laugh and pull him up to beat him. zuko panics and relies on instinct - firebending at the soldiers and burning them badly. they run away yelling, and zuko panics, certain that he’ll be caught out. he goes to run, but yue stops him.

“you’re hurt,” she says, pointing to where he’d been cut by the soldiers’ swords. “please, let me help you. it’s the least i can do.”

“you’re not scared of me?” zuko asks in confusion, looking around wildly, afraid his father will pop out of the trees and strike him down.

“you saved me,” yue says, just as confused, because between the rescue and the obvious burn mark, she doesn’t really think this boy would have any reason to hurt her. also he’s kinda shrimpy, and yue, who has built up some strength through hard work, is pretty sure she could take him. “come on, i have some herbs. is there clean water nearby?”

shocked that anyone in the earth kingdom wouldn’t call for zuko’s arrest on the spot, zuko leads yue to a stream in the forest. yue silently patches his wounds, and then eventually asks if she can get a look at his eye. apart from the initial work of the fire nation healers, zuko hadn’t really done much to treat his eye, and it’s so badly crusted he can barely see out of it. when yue reaches for him, he jerks away.

“i don’t need your help!” he snaps, standing and shaking himself off. “if it weren’t for you, i wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with.”

“excuse me.” says yue, standing as well, because who is he to talk to her that way? “i didn’t ask you for help, you chose to do that. and you’re mad at those soldiers, not me, so why don’t you try being a little nicer?”

they stare at each other furiously for a moment. then yue sighs and says “i think i can help you with your eye, so that you can see. let me do that and i’ll leave you alone.”

it’s painful, and a very slow process, but with water warmed by zuko’s bending (”just heat up the water.” “someone could see!” “we’re in the middle of a literal forest! who’s spying! the frogs???”) and a few medicinal herbs, yue manages to clear away most of the crust and dead skin over zuko’s eye. when he finally opens it again, he’s shocked to find that he can see.

“well, i won’t bother you anymore,” yue says huffily, moving to leave the forest. as she does, she realizes she doesn’t know where the heck she is. zuko’s still marveling at how different the world looks with two eyes.

“umm, which way is out?” yue asks him. zuko snaps back to reality and says “oh, um. i’ll show you.” because he is, admittedly, grateful.

of course, when they try to leave the forest, they run into bandits and barely escape. then yue reccomends they take a country road, and zuko reluctantly agrees, except they run into more bandits. after the fourth round of bandits in two weeks, they’re convinced they’ve been cursed with bad luck.

“can we just go to a town or a city?” yue asks, panting from their desperate escape. “we’re not having much luck living in the wild.”

“i was fine until you showed up!” zuko retorts, panting as well. “fine! then i’ll leave!” yue yells back.

“wait,” zuko says, and yue turns, tapping her foot impatiently. “i’m sorry,” zuko says, to yue’s shock, because if her few weeks with this kid who calls himself lee has taught her anything, it’s that he does not apologize. “i don’t really...understand, um, local people and-“

“let me do the talking,” yue says, gentle as always, reaching for zuko’s arm. he smiles at her, a real, happy smile, and they make their way to the nearest earth kingdom town.

after that, yue and zuko are inseparable. they argue a lot, naturally, but they become good friends, too. yue says she always wanted a sibling, zuko says he always wanted a different sibling, so it’s nice, to have each other. without going into too much detail, they bond over their shared experiences of pre-determined destinies and overbearing parental figures (“my father said i have to get married for the good of the people! what does that even mean?” “tell me about it, my father got mad that i talked out of turn, so he tried to kill me.” “...he what?” “hahaha just kidding that’s not a normal thing that happens.”) no matter how scary it gets, they agree, the earth kingdom makes them feel freer than they ever have before.

does the food they cook suck because they’ve never had to cook in their lives? yes. do they sometimes put all four feet in their mouths because of how they speak to the poor people of the earth kingdom? yes. have they ticked off a lot of fellow teenagers for acting bratty? yes. (“what, so, you don’t have palaces around here?” yue asks. “yeah, where are the royal gardens?” zuko asks. “leave before we rock your shit.” says Every Teenager They Meet.) but at the end of the day, they’re happy.

at 15 they reach a city called gaoling. by now they can both do enough odd jobs that they always have some pocket money on them, although yue still struggles to behave in a way that isn’t dainty and delicate, and zuko still struggles with basic social skills.

they’re getting ready to move along, when they’re stopped by a girl. she’s young, about 11, and entirely blind. she’s being chased by a loud crowd, who seem to be just around the corner.

“please!” the girl says. “help hide me! they’re after me! i think they’re going to kidnap me!” yue and zuko, who are the captains of the child-protection-squad, immediately move to protect the girl.

“this way!” zuko says, and the three of them run down narrow streets and alleyways, in and around shops, until they’re stopped at the city gate by the mob going after the girl.

“alright, kid,” the leader, a tall, buff man with long greasy hair says. “you’ve stolen from us for the last time.”

“how many time do i have to tell you?” the girl bellows, much different than her sweet and innocent pleas from before. “i won fair and square! you’re just mad because you got your butt kicked by a little girl!”

before zuko and yue can even react, the girl pummels the mob of men with an avalanche of rocks, and then launches the earth they’re standing on into the air, landing them far outside of the city limits in a dizzying display.

“woo! that was awesome!” the girl says gleefully pumping her arms. zuko and yue are both trying to wrap their heads around what just happened. “thanks for the help. not that i needed it, i just didn’t want my parents’ guards to see me bending...i wasn’t really planning on running away, but, i mean, i doubt they’ll even notice i’m gone-”

“just a second,” yue says, collecting herself. zuko’s jaw is still hanging open. “who are you?”

the girl grins smugly. “name’s toph. who are you?”

i cannot fully express how much i love this idea. top-notch. god-tier. thank you again!

[brax-was-here]

OC interview: Myo Briar

Draw (or use an old  drawing, don’t worry!) or take a screen of your  character in an  interview setting and make them answer the following questions!

INTRODUCTION

1. Can you introduce yourself? Uh hello. My name is Myo. Myo Briar.

2: Nice to meet you Myo. What is your gender identity, orientation and relationship status? Um...I am a female...and I don’t have a boyfriend or anything like that. *fidgets uncomfortably in her seat*

3. Where and when were you born? I was born in a village of soundless sylvari in Bloodtide Coast in the year 1340 AE.

4. Um...1340 AE? Nevermind. So what is your weapon of choice and fighting style? My mother created a rifle that she gave me to use. I also use her beam sword and Aunt Caithe gave me her dagger.

5. Uh...Aunt Caithe? Ok, you seem fairly capable of defending yourself. ...Lastly, are you happy? Uh...Yes, I guess I am. If I could find my mother and a way back home, I would be a lot more happy. 

FAMILY AND FRIENDS

1. What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them? I am close to my mother and Aunt Amaranda. I have many other family members that i see from time to time, and I visit mommom quite often. She is so happy when I visit her! There are some family members that I do not see much and I think they don’t like to talk to me. *she pauses a moment* I...I never knew my father. *she looks at the ground as her voice trails off.*

2. I’m...I’m sorry to hear that. Have you ever run away from home? No. I never have, but I have been kidnapped a couple times by some people who were not nice. Those people aren’t alive anymore. 

3. Um..whoa. Wow. Ok. Would you consider marriage or having children? Um...I don’t think I am old enough for that. *fidgets in her seat some more*

4. I’m sorry for asking that. Moving on. Do you secretly hate one of your friends? *thinks for a moment* No, not really. Except maybe that one person in school. He always tries to be better than everyone else. I don’t like that. 

5. Ah. Seemingly a know-it-all. Which friend knows everything about you? Oh, um...I don’t know. Uh...I grew up with a few friends so maybe they know? *shrugs lightly*

ASKED BY FANS

1. Are you literate? Have you been to school? I have fans? *looks around inquisitively at randome people nearby.* Um...yes, I go to school. I have never failed a class. Mom makes me study hard. She says it’s good to be very knowledgeable. 

2. The eeriest prediction you made that later came true? I once guess what a huge present for me was during Wintersday! Does that count?

3. What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize? *she falls quiet, staring at the floor in silence*

Myo?

*after a few quiet moments*  Mom’s past....

4. I...I’m sorry. Do you have mental health or physical issues? No. I do not. 

5. What is your current main goal? To finish school! And then I hope to maybe study at the Durmond Priory. Or maybe attend a college. I have not decided yet.

CHOICES

1. Drink or food? um...food? I like to eat hamburgers and french fries! And pizza! Mom says i shouldn’t eat those things. She calls them junk food. her and Aunt Amaranda usually cook healthy meals, like vegetables and fruits. Aunt Amee’s cooking is very yummy! She loves to cook! Mom’s cooking...um...please don’t tell her I said this...but...mom’s cooking is not so good. I also like to drink ice tea! With a little bit of lemon and just a tiny bit of sugar!

2. Cats or dogs? We don’t have pets. But sometimes I go to Uncles Trahearne’s home. He has a lot of cats! They are friendly and playful. I go there and play with them from time to time. When I was little mom, would take me to the fern hound kennels in Astorea and I would pet the pups. 

3. That sounds like fun! So, early bird or night owl? I go to bed early. Mom says getting good sleep is important for a healthy mind. She says she knows first hand. I think she used to party a lot. 

4. Optimist or pessimist? An optimist. Mom says a friend of hers says to always see the good in everything and that is a good rule to live by. 

5. Sassy or sarcastic? Um...I don’t know. Mom always tells me to stop acting so sassy. So...maybe sassy? *shrugs*

HAVE YOU EVER

1. Been caught sneaking out? Um...mom caught me once when I tried to sneak out to play with my friends when I should have been studying. 

2. Broke a bone? No, I never have. But I did fall down when I was little and knocked a tooth out. 

3. Oh dear. What about received flowers? Sometimes I get flowers from family members for my birthday. 

4. Ghosted someone? Not on purpose. Sometimes I forget to reply to someone, but Widget usually reminds me. 

5. Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get? Not laugh, but sometimes I smile even if I don’t understand the joke. 

[cinnella]

Name: Libelle Abrams (chosen name); Varda Lesedi (birth name)

Age: 22 years old

Sex: Female

Sexuality: Demi-homosexual

Zodiac sign: Libra

Birthday: October 7th

Patron Arcana: Justice (Major); Queen of Swords (Minor)

Occupation: Magician, healer, painter and gardener

Height: 5'9" (1.76 m)

Weight: 194 lbs (88 kg)

Relatives:

Briella Lesedi - mother (deceased)

Abanus Lesedi - father (deceased)

Gushvin Basu - distant family friend

Origin: Born in the Catclaw Desert, grew up in Vesuvia

Race: African-American

Powers: White (purification) and healing magic, as well as telekinesis and precognitive dreaming

Intelligence Level: On a scale from 1 to 10, she's a strong 8.5

Backstory:

During the beautiful sunset of the Catclaw Desert, little Varda was born not far off from their home, where her parents had built their sculpture selling stand.

About 7 months later, while they were enjoying their time at home, their friend, Gushvin, hurried to tell them that an unexpected aggressive sand storm started heading their way.

They made sure to give Varda to him as he was faster and went ahead of them. They tragically got swept away by the storm and inhaled too much sand. They were found without breath or pulse hours later.

As selfish as it was of him, Gushvin didn't want to take care of a child, so he made sure to find someone willing enough to do that, soon running into a person who said they specifically searched for orphaned children that needed care.

After a couple of days of traveling, they arrived in sunny Vesuvia, where Varda was brought to the orphanage in the South End. There she was cared for and raised like promised.

She grew up to be one of the sweetest but most naive kids there. One day during lunch, she noticed a kid was sitting alone at his table, sulking and not eating. She approached him and offered to eat with him.

He had silverish eyes and ash-blond hair and the kindest smile she'd ever seen. She'd heard the adults call him Lucas and she knew he was kind of a troublemaker, but he seemed so lonely. They became best friends almost instantly, and always spent time together.

Some years later, when both of them were around 5 years old, they befriended three other kids, all significantly older than them. She learned that their names were Eris, Syro and Morana, and immediately became worried.

They were the biggest scoundrels in the entire orphanage, and quite honestly, all of South End. But Lucas insisted that they join their group. And she trusted him.

She didn't think that these four kids would become so important to her, that they'd become her family. But they did, and she couldn't be more thankful.

When it became clear enough to the adults that they couldn't raise nameless kids, the more capable ones took to teaching them the importance of knowing how to read and write and then they could choose a name for themselves, on their 7th birthday.

Soon enough, her sweet 7th rolled around and after months of searching, she found a name that would complete her.

And so, Varda Lesedi became Libelle Abrams.

Lucas, not much later, also changed his name, to Calyx. Libelle thought it was such a beautiful name for him.

Many years passed by with the four causing as much trouble as possible, to her unfortunate luck. But once she approached her preteens, devastating news came with them. When they'd reach the age of 17, they would need to leave, one by one, and search for a different home.

They discussed about it, made plans and set goals to find their homelands, their roots and possibly their families.

Obviously, Eris was first in line to leave as the eldest between them. Then Morana with Syro. It was only her and Calyx left. She made the promise to not abandon him there and take him with her when the time would come.

And she did. After celebrating her 17th birthday and talking with the one that had found her so many years ago, they set out to travel towards the Catclaw Desert. The journey was a couple of days long and it took them almost as much to find the one who knew about her parents.

Gushvin was sat on the bench in front of his home when they approached, and when Libelle called out to him, he recognized her immediately. There was some confusion with her name at first, but they quickly caught onto everything.

He told her everything that had happened the day she became an orphan and although he was hesitant, he confessed how selfish he'd been back then, something he regretted deeply and hadn't let him sleep properly since then.

All of the discoveries shocked her beyond belief, so much so that she wanted to go back to Vesuvia right away. After a while of mulling over everything she found out, she decided to focus on helping her best friend.

Luck had seemed to smile upon them, because Eris insisted on tagging along with them. After all, they had to travel across the sea all the way to the Macawi Port.

After even more shocking reveals about Calyx' parents, none of them wanted to know anything more, so at dawn they started back home.

Now, Libelle could focus on the things that she wanted to do most. She learned how to become a professional healer and magician, so she would help people in need. Around that time, her secret powers slowly surfaced as well.

She realized she could move objects with the will of her mind and at night, she would have visions and dreams of the future. After consulting with an expert in healing magic, she discovered that most people have these gifts and adviced her to learn to control them.

Everything was fine in her life until the Red Plague rained upon them and they each made the decision to leave Vesuvia. Well, all except for Eris. She wanted to help the doctors with the dead, confided to Libelle that she'd taught herself necromancy and wanted to reverse their deaths.

Eris had been too stubborn to listen to reason, so they had no choice but to leave her behind. Syro and Morana left for the Southern Spines, while Eris specifically told Libelle and Calyx to go to Venterre and find her brother, Sethos. He would shelter them until the nightmare would be over.

So they did, they took the first boat straight to the west coast of Venterre, where they ran into the young man in question.

When they finished explaining everything to him, he insisted they go back and get her too, but there would have been no use in doing so. His sister would have been way too stubborn to listen to anyone.

Days later, a letter arrived in their mailbox and all three were devastated to find out Eris died from the plague. Libelle and Calyx were sobbing messes and Sethos almost thrashed the room before collapsing too.

They informed the other two through a letter as well, but they figured there would be massive delays because of the distance, so they didn't expect an answer right away.

Suddenly, about 6 days later, Libelle had a dream, of Eris being alive. It had felt so real she woke up in a cold sweat and with tears in her eyes, she went to wake up the other two, shaking them hard.

She couldn't form clear words but Calyx caught onto it right away, and while with shaky hands, Libelle explained that she could sense Eris' aura and presence in the real world.

Although Sethos was very skeptical about it, he would have rather held onto the tiniest string of hope that she was indeed alive than live with the thought of losing his sister a second time.

So they wrote another letter to Syro and Morana and immediately packed their things and headed back to Vesuvia in plain midnight.

True to everything Libelle said and sensed, Eris was alive. How, they didn't know, until they spoke to Asra, one of her older friends and apparently, the one who brought her back. She was shocked to find it involved a deal with the Devil. She'd heard of the sacrifices needed to make such deals.

After about 3 years of total absence, Syro and Morana also arrived in Vesuvia and the shock cycle began again.

Not much later, when Eris got assigned to solve the mystery of Count Lucio's murder and catch his fugitive murderer, everyone offered to do something to help her out.

Though she was shy about it, she could sense that the Countess, Nadia, needed help as well. So Libelle suggested assisting her in whatever Nadia would need.

She didn't expect to catch feelings, but she didn't complain either.

Personality: shy, sensitive, kind-hearted, gentle, imaginitive, creative, generous, loyal, honest, trustworthy, observant, reliable, cheerful, too forgiving and sometimes naive

Interesting facts:

Although it isn't very noticeable, she does have a white lotus tattoo on her left middle finger.

Her wrists are littered with past self-harm scars, which the others love to kiss just to make her feel better about them.

She is very insecure about her body, but she has the others to lift her moods up when she's down.

Has an entire collection of earrings, but her favorites are the peacock feathers.

Even though she wakes up early in the morning, she usually takes a nap in the afternoon.

Her thighs and hips are full of stretch marks.

Has the biggest sweet tooth in the world.

Can play the clarinet, but you would have to really indulge her to get her to sing on it for you.

Appearance: Dark espresso skin tone, neck-length curly chestnut brown hair, dyed periwinkle blue halfway down, jade green eyes, chubby slight hourglass body shape, D cup breasts

Familiar: Lumi, a cute and sweet stoat but a sneaky little thief all the same

Voice claim: Dana Gourrier

Full sprite:

WOOOHOOOO I FINISHED ALL MY MCS' BIOS AND I'M SO HAPPY!!

My girl turned out so damn beautiful too and I'm just hhnnnnn- 😖💜

PLEASE SHOW HER SOME LOVE AS WELL!!! ✨

[gusu-emilu]

Cantatio: Chapter Eleven

Ship: Lan Zhan / Wei Ying (POV Lan Zhan)

Summary: Jin Zixuan is missing, and Lan Zhan is growing suspicious of Wei Ying.

Cloud Recesses Academy AU, Rated T, No Warnings Apply - read on AO3

The coast was clear if they wanted to sneak away.

Bichen quivered in his grip.

“Do not disrespect the elder. Uphold the value of justice. Do not shirk your duty,” he told himself.

But before Lan Wangji finished the list of rules he’d be breaking, he had already slipped out the doorway and unsheathed Bichen, with Wen Qing at his heels and Wei Ying’s name on his lips.

< Ch. 10 | Ch. 12 > | chapter list

After hearing the news of Jin Zixuan’s capture, there was not much else to do but wait for his return. In the meantime, Lan Wangji tried to report his recent misconduct to his uncle, but the clan leaders already hurried away to organize more search parties.

Song Lan and Nie Mingjue were the only two authority figures left. They corralled everyone into the Main Hall to safely await results from the search parties.

Nie Mingjue stood in the front corner of the room scowling at the noisy disciples. After a few minutes, Song Lan began restlessly pacing along the wall. Then he strode to the front of the room as if about to make an announcement.

Like the beginning of Beings & Creatures the previous day, Song Lan stood as if frozen, that same subdued sorrow hovering around him in a haze, until every pair of eyes was fixed upon him. Then he said, “We will continue our lesson on animating guardian statues. It seems especially relevant today.”

Although the disciples were still intimidated by Song Lan, they had warmed up to him after an exciting class yesterday. It also helped that they had witnessed him tear down Wen Chao, the most hated disciple in the class. Now, instead of gaping up at Song Lan, they were bold enough to whisper to each other about the announcement once he finished speaking.

“Although taking immediate action is important when addressing a crisis—in this case, that immediate action is finding Young Master Jin—it is also essential to address the root of a problem. Someone please inform the class what the root of today’s problem is.”

The hall was silent except for a few disciples shifting their robes or murmuring to each other.

Nie Huaisang flapped open his fan, the whoosh echoing through the hall.

“HUAISANG!” Nie Mingjue bellowed. “You open that fan, you answer the question!”

The fan snapped closed and disappeared into juniper sleeves. Nie Huaisang waved his hands in front of himself as if fending off the dozens of eyes now fixed on him. “Oh, no, no, I don’t know! Don’t call on me!”

“If no one answers the daozhang’s question, that filthy pet bird of yours is getting released into the woods this afternoon!”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes darted around the room in panic, searching for a brave disciple to save him as if he were the sparrow about to be abandoned in the wilderness.

In the back of the hall, a hand slowly rose into the air. Upon seeing it, Nie Huaisang sighed with relief.

It was Wen Ning, his eyes wide but eager. Wei Wuxian sat beside him and patted him proudly on the back.

Nie Mingjue snorted.

“Young Master Wen?” Song Lan called.

“W-W-Well, Young Master Wei and I were just discussing that no one seems to know exactly how the lion was animated. S-So…maybe that’s the problem?”

Song Lan nodded slowly. “That is correct.”

Wen Ning beamed, and Wei Wuxian swatted at Wen Ning’s arm excitedly. Wen Qing turned around and smiled at them.

“But only partially correct.”

Wen Ning’s face fell.

Song Lan cocked an eyebrow and relaxed his shoulders, the silvery-gold hilt of his sword shifting behind him. “Thank you, Young Master Wen, for starting us off.” He turned to Nie Huaisang. “Perhaps Young Master Nie can complete the answer. Clan Leader Nie seems to deem you quite capable of it.”

Nie Huaisang scratched the back of his head. “Oh, no, no, I’m sorry, my brother expects too much of me, really…” His eyes wandered to the ceiling, circling around vacantly.

“But if I had to guess…like, if I was forced at sword point—wow, that would be scary!—ummm, I would say that the problem isn’t how the lion was animated. It’s by who.” He threw his hands in the air. “But I’m not sure! I don’t know anything! I really don’t. Please don’t call on me again, daozhang…”

A faint smile crossed Song Lan’s face. “This is the correct answer.”

Having saved himself and his pet bird, Nie Huaisang snapped open his fan once again, flapping it merrily in celebration. Nie Mingjue scowled even more, but his shoulders relaxed a bit.

“Does anyone know why we do not need to ask how the statue was animated?” Song Lan asked.

“Because we just learned how to do it yesterday,” Jin Zixun shouted, clearly pleased with his useless response.

Song Lan blinked for a few moments. “Anyone else?”

Lan Wangji lifted his chin. “Animation by humans is impossible," he said.

Every disciple in the room turned to stare at him. However, the only pair of eyes he felt was Wei Wuxian’s.

A pair of eyes that Lan Wangji was growing more and more suspicious of.

Despite answering the question, Lan Wangji did not fully believe his own words.

“Very good, Second Young Master Lan. To animate a guardian statue so powerful, a quarter of the Cloud Recesses’ population would need to lay hands on it and connect with its spirit. One or two people could have gone unnoticed, but such a commotion could not have, not even in the dead of the night.

“Furthermore, the guardian lion did not protect the Cloud Recesses upon coming to life, as was its duty. Instead, it attacked a disciple. Mere mortals are incapable of convincing a guardian lion to violate its duty. Their method of communication is ancient, cryptic, and spiritually demanding. They are not easily persuaded to stray from the prayer intentions that created them.

“Therefore, the question is not how. We would waste our time to focus on this. The question becomes whom, or—more precisely—what. That is our true adversary, not the lion.”

The hall hummed with speculation. Wei Wuxian crossed his arms and nodded approvingly.

But Lan Wangji still did not agree.

He was very, very suspicious.

Who had animated the pixiu yesterday with no sign of drained spiritual energy and then refused to explain how? Who had been outside the mingshi last night? Who hated Jin Zixuan for what he did to Jiang Yanli?

Wei Wuxian had the means, the evidence, the agenda. Slightly out of order, yet still compelling.

But would Wei Ying really do something so malicious?

How could he seem so calm this morning if he really was responsible?

Strange things had happened in the Cloud Recesses before, without any known human interference, such as the appearance of the monster beetle in Wen Qing’s room. This could be another case. Perhaps the guardian lion statue had even been animated by the melody of the haunted guqin.

And yet.

Wei Wuxian was a trickster, and sometimes his pranks went too far. What had happened to Jiang Cheng just last night after drinking a poorly-made sleeping potion?

Wei Wuxian might not have had a mean streak, but he did have one for recklessness.

Plagued by these thoughts, Lan Wangji struggled to focus on the rest of Song Lan’s improvised lesson, only catching bits and pieces, itching to simply stand up in the middle of class and march over to Wei Wuxian.

The lesson was so lively that Lan Wangji wished he could have paid more attention. Song Lan preferred to let the disciples do their own thinking, and let them speculate what might’ve animated the lion. Lan Wangji caught mentions of hungry ghosts, magical beasts possessing golden cores, demons, Heavenly Immortals, even dragons. Then Song Lan guided the class through the process for detecting traces of a creature’s visit. The disciples grew more and more enthusiastic as they exchanged ideas, their energy filling the room. The disciples were forbidden to go outside to search for the guardian lion, but Song Lan promised to speak to the clan leaders about letting a team pilot the detective work.

When the lesson finished and the hall plunged back into a mill of voices, Lan Wangji walked toward Wei Wuxian immediately. But after only a few steps, another thought seized him. He swerved and headed toward Wen Qing, who was in the midst of praising Wen Ning for speaking up during the lesson.

“Lady Wen.”

“Second Young Master Lan?” She lifted her hands to the top of her head to adjust her golden hair piece with an air of regality. “You look tired. Join the club.”

Unsure of what to say to that, Lan Wangji simply nodded and asked, “Did you observe Wei Ying during Beings & Creatures yesterday?”

She sighed. “No. I was busy focusing on my own pixiu. I don’t have much of a golden core, and Young Master Su is a very lackluster partner. We couldn’t even animate it.” She finally let go of her hair piece. “A-Ning, did you watch him at all?”

“Yes. He brought the pixiu to life without his partner’s help.” Wen Ning grinned. “He’s really awesome, Jie!”

Wen Qing’s eyes widened. “He did it by himself? Are you sure?”

He nodded.

Wen Qing turned to Lan Wangji. “That’s the reason you were hollering at him during class?”

I did not ‘holler’ at him, Lan Wangji thought, but his reply was, “Half the reason.”

“…We’re thinking the same thing right now, aren’t we?”

“Mn.”

“Have you talked to him?”

Lan Wangji shook his head.

Wen Qing gave him a look of disappointment. “You should talk to him.”

Lan Wangji turned away, intending to search the room for Wei Wuxian, but he was unable to focus on identifying any particular person. “…Come with me.”

Wen Qing rolled her eyes. “What, are you scared of him?”

“No. But he is scared of you.”

Wen Qing grinned for the first time he’d seen. “Still relying on me to do your dirty work for you? I’d say it’s almost like we’re becoming friends, Lan Wangji.”

Lan Wangji froze at these words.

Friends...

Finally, he managed to nod a goodbye to Wen Ning, then swiveled around and strode away before a small smile could cross his face in front of the Wen siblings.

Behind him, Wen Ning said, “Jie, is Young Master Wei in danger?”

“No, A-Ning. He’s fine. Stay here.”

A few moments later, he heard Wen Qing’s footsteps behind him.

They paced around the perimeter of the hall hunting for Wei Wuxian. When they didn’t find him the first time, they passed through the center of the hall, circled around one more time, studying every person in the room. A sinking feeling of dread grew inside Lan Wangji with each step.

Wei Wuxian was gone.

* * *

With Wei Wuxian nowhere in sight, the next best option was to confront his brother.

Jiang Cheng stood glaring out the doorway of the Main Hall, clutching his sword. His shoulders were tense and his legs were slightly spread apart, as if he were about to join the starting line of a race.

“Young Master Jiang, have you seen Wei Wuxian?” Wen Qing asked.

Jiang Cheng scowled at her, as if offended that she had spoken to him. Then he noticed Lan Wangji, and turned to stare out the doorway again.

“Him? Tch. That dumbass ran outside a minute ago. I was going to tell Clan Leader Nie, but I’m thinking I should just go after him myself before he gets killed.” He paused. “So I can kill him,” he added.

So it was confirmed. Wei Wuxian had left. Was he seeking Jin Zixuan and the guardian lion that captured him? Was he running away from suspicion? Was he just bored in the Main Hall and looking for fun?

“Why?” Lan Wangji asked.

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. He mimicked his brother’s overly-excited voice. “’I’m going to save Jin Zixuan so I can stand on his head while he apologizes to Shijie!’ The idiot. The clan leaders have been searching for ages. He’s deranged if he thinks he can find him.”

A wave of relief washed over Lan Wangji. Even if the guardian lion’s animation had really been Wei Wuxian’s doing, he could not have intended to seriously harm Jin Zixuan.

However, facing off with a guardian lion was not a feat that one could do alone. He needed help.

Jiang Cheng glanced around the hall, then tightened his grip on his sword. “Anyway. I’m hunting him down. If anyone asks, you didn’t see anything.” He sprinted outside, unsheathed Sandu from its dark purple scabbard, and jumped onto the blade, soaring into the clouds.

“Follow him,” Wen Qing said.

“I will tell the daozhang and Clan Leader Nie.”

“Didn’t you just hear Jiang Cheng? He doesn’t want anyone to know about this.”

“Authorities must be informed.”

Wen Qing crossed her arms. “Young Master Wei and Young Master Jiang just left. We can bring them back before anyone notices—that is, if you stop clenching your fists and get on your sword.”

Lan Wangji glanced down at his hands. Feeling a bit embarrassed, he relaxed them and placed them in their usual proper position—one holding Bichen at his side, one behind his back. Then scanned the interior of the Main Hall to check if anyone was watching them.

Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue were having a light-hearted discussion with Jin Guangyao. Song Lan was frozen in Lotus Position in a corner of the room, his eyes narrow and unfocused.

The coast was clear if they wanted to sneak away.

Bichen quivered in his grip.

Do not disrespect the elder. Uphold the value of justice. Do not shirk your duty.

But before Lan Wangji finished the list of rules he’d be breaking, he had already slipped out the doorway and unsheathed Bichen, with Wen Qing at his heels and Wei Ying’s name on his lips.

Holding his sword in front of him, he nodded toward Wen Qing.

She sucked in a breath and unsheathed her own blade. ���Let’s go.”

Lan Wangji leapt onto Bichen and zipped into the sky beside Wen Qing. They soared through the clouds and mist with the speed of a dragon, cold air slicing at their cheeks.

They soon caught up to Jiang Cheng on Sandu.

“The hell are you doing?!” he snarled.

“Helping you get your shidi back!” Wen Qing shouted.

Jiang Cheng scoffed. “As if I want him back! Once we’re done, you can have him!”

As they flew over the green swath of forest, an uncomfortable thought entered Lan Wangji’s mind.

Since when had he stopped trying to discipline Wei Ying, and started trying to get him out of trouble instead? It had only taken a day at most. Was Lan Wangji really this soft?

A worse thought followed.

Was Lan Wangji fated to become another Jiang Cheng in Wei Ying’s life? A beloved brother, sure, but one who was always a sword’s length behind, chasing after an unbounded energy he could not hold?

That wouldn’t do.

Just as Wei Wuxian’s smirking face appeared in his mind’s eye, he spotted the real Wei Wuxian streaking through the air on his dark blade.

“WEI WUXIAN! GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW OR I’LL KNOCK YOU OFF YOUR UGLY SWORD!” Jiang Cheng shouted.

Wei Wuxian gleefully waved at them, nearly falling off the sword himself without any help from his brother. He shouted something back, but the words were drowned out by the howling wind. His red hair ribbon whipped behind him like the feathers of a phoenix as he sped away.

Wei Wuxian’s pace continued to increase. But Sandu and Bichen were closing the gap.

Suddenly, Wei Wuxian pointed at the forest to his left. He swerved and rocketed down in that direction, plummeting through the air like a torpedo.

What was he thinking? At this speed, he was going to crash!

Bichen and Sandu shot down after him. The swords buzzed in anticipation of the forest canopy that they were about to smash through. Wind battered Lan Wangji’s face.

At the last moment, Wei Wuxian’s sword leveled off just above the tree line. He swooped to the right and dove into a break in the treetops next to a mountain cliff.

He was headed straight for the ground, where a giant boulder met the grimy dirt.

Now he really was about to crash!

“Wei Ying!” Lan Wangji cried.

Whoosh!

Wei Wuxian charged at the foot of the boulder. But he didn’t smash into the ground like Lan Wangji had dreaded. Instead, he vanished.

Lan Wangji, Wen Qing, and Jiang Cheng dismounted their swords over a patch of grass beneath the boulder. Jiang Cheng marched toward the rock. Thin black strands of hair coiled over the top of his head where his sleek locks had been pulled back, now a mess from taking a vertical drop at such a high speed. Wen Qing and Lan Wangji looked just as windstruck.

Wen Qing rested a hand on Lan Wangji and gasped for breath as she clutched her stomach. “This is why…I prefer medicine…over the way of the sword.”

Lan Wangji gingerly removed her hand from his shoulder.

The moss-covered boulder towered over them, reaching the height of a pagoda. They approached the crack that Wei Wuxian had vanished into. As they angled closer, the crack expanded into a dark tunnel that burrowed beneath the boulder.

It was the opening to an underground cave.

“The hell is he thinking!” Jiang Cheng stuck an arm out toward the tunnel. He looked like he wanted to strangle the entire boulder above it. “Don’t tell me he actually found the lion and followed it into this cave! He hadn’t even been in the air for five minutes!”

Lan Wangji and Wen Qing exchanged hesitant glances.

If this was true, and Wei Wuxian had entered the cave after the guardian lion, then he would need all the help he could get.

“Well? Who’s going in first?” Jiang Cheng said.

After a few moments, Lan Wangji stepped inside.

The mouth of the tunnel was coated with mud, descending to murky black depths that glared up at him hungrily.

He slipped.

Slammed on his back.

Clenched his eyes shut and slid down the tunnel, accelerating faster and faster as the slope tilted steeper and steeper, until the darkness swallowed him whole.

* * *

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, you can be a supportive sibling like Jiang Yanli by liking, reblogging, and visiting me on AO3! New chapters posted every Monday on AO3 and Tuesday on Tumblr.

Ch. 12 > | chapter list

[uwua3]

Hi bunnie!! May I request b*nri starting a meaningful connection with his s/o?? thank u so much! ❤️ I’m so glad that bunuiel has such a meaningful connection with each other 😌✨🎻🧚‍♀️💕

this is so awful. this is such a bad prompt for personal reasons. the emojis. the meaningful connection. i’m doing this out of spite and nothing else, i was posssessed by a vengeful demon to type this out and i swear by it

summary: banri feels something once, and it’s all because of you

warnings: blood, crime, illegal activities/implications (breaking the law), injuries, police, toxic relationships, unhealthy power dynamics

author’s note: i promise, if you are sensitive to any of these warnings, do not read!

at first, i actually wanted to expand on banri’s impulsiveness in order to feel something but it became this! this can be considered ooc :) this is every aspect of him exaggerated to be very extreme!!!

word count: 3,690

music: x – code kunst ft. lee hi

x.

🍁🥇 settsu banri

I BELIEVED YOU WHEN YOU PROMISED ME

WHEN YOU PRAYED WITH YOUR HANDS TOGETHER LIKE A MOSQUITO

I BELIEVED, I THOUGHT YOU MEANT IT, I’M THE FOOL, IT ALL MEANT NOTHING

NOW I KNOW, THANK YOU

Nothing was ever “good enough” for Banri. He felt nothing—absolutely fucking nothing no matter what he did. You noticed it too late: all the late–night drives on the verge of crashing, coming a little too close to the dark alleyway with two bloodshot eyes staring at him like he was a regular, the way he somehow knew how to roll his fingerprints just right in the police station. Banri wouldn’t react, hands up lazily like his criminal record was nothing, before he outran the cops with barely any effort.

You should’ve collected the evidence and left before it was too late. Now, you were in it for the long run, his ride–or–die until Banri got bored again, again, again. The handcuffs around his wrists had his name, you knew he could’ve broke them, snapped the middle chain cleanly without hesitation. But, Banri didn’t. Even as the officer pushed him against the side of the cruiser with you next to him, he grinned at you with the exact precision and bloodlust of a con–artist. Banri licked the blood off his bottom lip as you glanced at him, shaking and wondering why you let yourself get caught with him. Why did you decide to vandalize the building in the first place? Your mask heated your face, his was slipped above his mouth like he wanted the whole entire damn city to see his smirk every time they closed their eyes.

“Do you trust me?” Banri asked even though he already knew the answer, but it lacked empathy, understanding, emotion. You knew Banri didn’t feel anything, that was something you underestimated in his adrenaline–powered head. When you carefully nodded once, Banri’s eyes lit up like he was on fire, like he was made of every firecracker about to explode. He was right; you didn’t think twice before grabbing his free hand as the single cop on your trail cursed.

Banri liked this part the most, you knew that. The escape from the pig who thought this was gonna be an easy job, hiding out in a cramped tight area with the sound of your uncontrollable panting disturbing the silence, heading home with another one over the deadbeats. You never had to worry about being behind bars, Banri always won.

It was within the shadows cast by the local dumpster where he stuck himself against the brick wall, holding his breath. Banri’s hand was over your mouth to keep you quiet as you tried to make out shapes in the dark. A beam of a flashlight nearly hit your scuffed shoes, but it passed as you exhaled a sigh of relief, feeling yourself relax against Banri’s chest. You tried to pick up on his heartbeat that should’ve matched yours, the hard thump to show he was at least feeling alive. You didn’t hear anything.

When Banri’s arm around your waist dropped, your heart almost did the same. You wondered how easily Banri could rat you out, push you out to the center right now, and let the cop arrest you. It would’ve given him such an adrenaline rush, to have his own partner get caught and have him bail you out. You gripped his arm, he must’ve sensed you were on edge because Banri muttered something borderline comforting. Although you wished you could have read his mind, you were glad Banri couldn’t read yours or else he’d be tempted yet again.

When the coast was clear, you trailed behind Banri, nervously scanning your surroundings as you held onto his hand. Banri walked forward, stretching his arm back so you can have some sort of touch after everything you went through for his sake. You held on. You were afraid if you didn’t follow, you’d be left to die. You didn’t want to find out if Banri would do that to you, because you knew what the answer was.

YOU CALL ME LATE AT NIGHT

WHEN I’M NOT THE ONE YOU WANT

YOU TELL ME ABOUT IT, FINESSING ON IT

Banri had to know, the restless urge to not feel so empty and hollow anymore. You knew he couldn’t follow the rules, couldn’t force himself to adhere to anyone because no one was “superior” to him, he was his own force. Banri was irrational, reckless, and intense all at once, and maybe that’s why you liked him so much, because he just didn’t care.

But, that meant he didn’t care about you either. For so many nights, he’d ghost your multiple messages before showing up at your bedroom window after winning a fight. If you told him to stop, Banri would just keep throwing more punches to piss you off. Tonight, was one of these nights, as you already had your first–aid kit ready at the base of the flowing curtain pushed aside. He threw his mask off, exposing his injuries underneath. It revealed a 17–year–old boy so tired, so exhausted of himself with the same shit–eating grin he etched permanently on his scarred face.

“Come here.” You ordered without looking, not bothering to check the time or else you’d start another fight and push him away again. Banri listened for once, picking up on the sharp edge in your tone. He dropped onto the floor with the stealth of a cat, moving to sit down next to you with a wary look. As you were rummaging through the box for band–aids, Banri nudged you with his hand, about to say something before you noticed the multiple cuts along his knuckles.

He really would never change, not even for you.

You suddenly started crying, dropping your materials to the ground as Banri stood in silence, staring at you with slightly widened eyes as he backed up. Of course, the one thing Settsu Banri was afraid of and it was you having emotions. Out of all the things, this was what made him want to run away. Not the violence he initiated every night.

“You always do this.” You forced out, trying not to sob as you took in a shaky breath. Banri’s blinked, once, twice, before he extended an arm towards your shoulder. It felt so lifeless, so cold, so unnatural that you couldn’t help but cry louder, covering your mouth as you hung your head over the first–aid box. How much of this had you used just in the last month? Why was so much of it already gone? Why did you already know Banri was coming tonight? When did it become a habit for your boyfriend to only show up when he was hurt? You always saw him at his worst, but he considered this to be his best.

“Y–You, you...” You exhaled, gripping your hands into fists as you wanted to say it so bad. You wanted to ask, if Banri ever loved you, if he was fully aware you knew he didn’t want you, that you were never his main priority. You just turned towards him, seeing one hand was already on the ledge of your window, typical. You cupped his face, attempting to smile despite the tears staining your face, brushing a strand of hair back behind his ear. Did Banri feel it? Did he know you loved him? That you would do anything if he asked?

“Please, stop fighting, I can’t live without you.” You begged, pushing back what you truly wanted to yell. Banri gulped, his eyes staring into yours for the first time in... how long has it been since he let you touch him like this? Why did it take so long just to feel the blood running through his veins, the beat of your thumb’s pulse against his cheek, the sharpness of every feature he had. He was a double–edged sword, and you willingly took him by the hilt.

Banri didn’t say anything, didn’t move, as you touched his face again and again. You needed this, to remind you he was alive, even with all the marks disfiguring his appearance. You were about to say something, anything, to break the silence before Banri took his hand off the window, putting it on your hand against his cheek. It was calloused, rough, awkward, like he hadn’t done anything else with his hands except wound and destroy.

“I’m sorry.” Banri said, and for once, you knew he meant it. It didn’t mean he was going to change, but he knew what it did to you. Made you cry like there was no tomorrow, want to scream every time you noticed he had an injury; Banri wondered how’d you react if he died. A sick, twisted urge in him spiked in his head even when he saw how devastated you were in the moonlight. Banri was so sorry, but apologies meant shit when they made him feel nothing.

When you bandaged Banri’s wrist in silence, he only stared at you as you mended his wounds. Banri didn’t boast about his upper hand that night, didn’t begin talking shit about every and anyone who dared defy him physically, didn’t even spit out the blood in his mouth just to scare you. Banri didn’t do any of those that night, just let you heal him to the best of your ability before he disappeared.

Before he left, Banri turned and looked at you like he really was sorry. Then, pulled the mask over his face before he was gone. Leaving the curtain billowing with the late wind and the window half–open.

The next time Banri called you, footsteps pounding on your fire escape, you readied your first–aid kit. You didn’t cry this time or the next, you didn’t feel anything anymore.

CALL ME A BITCH, I’M PROUD OF IT

WHAT I WANT, YOU GOT IT WRONG

STOP IT, I GOTTA GO

I WANT IT MORE, I WANT TO SCREAM AND GROWL

Banri was sorry he got you into this. You, who he knew loved him unconditionally even if it meant risking a criminal record against a police cruiser, even if it meant patching up his wounds in the final hours of dusk just so he’d survive to do it again. If Banri knew anything, it was you had dated him because you loved him, unlike Banri. Banri didn’t love you—you were just different.

You were unexpected. You were so in touch with how you felt, expressing your emotions with your heart on your sleeve and Banri took it and ran. When you were overwhelmed, you cried. When you were happy, you smiled. When you were angry, you yelled. You were so normal, but there was something about how emotional and empathetic and caring you were that he had to date you. When he asked, you smiled. You rarely did that nowadays, Banri thought he would gain the feeling you lost—happiness—but, he didn’t. It seemed like anything you sacrificed for him wouldn’t go to him, shame.

When Banri was overwhelmed, he went to go impulsively start a fight with someone he knew didn’t deserve it. When Banri was happy, he probably was because hell was about to break loose for once. When Banri was angry, there was nothing to be said. Banri didn’t function like you, couldn’t express himself in the way you did because he didn’t feel like you. Yet, it was so nice to see you behave the way you did without shame, embarrassment, or humiliation. Banri liked you in a way, but he could never let himself love you the way you wanted.

Banri didn’t want to see you. That night, where you cried, Banri thought he’d come running back for more of those tears. But, was he uncomfortable? Were you beginning to trust him a little bit too much? Banri snuck in the dorms again, knowing Sakyo was on his case for being oddly quiet in his room. Luckily, no one questioned the tape of video game background noises on repeat besides his desk. When Banri dropped his bag onto his bed with a huff, a desk lamp flickered on with the pull of a string as his roommate stared at him with piercing slanted yellow eyes, like a wolf would with its competitor.

Banri was about to curse, tell Juza to fuck off like always before Juza narrowed his eyes, giving him a warning to shut up before he made him. Banri complied, knowing how thin these walls were. Juza just stood up, stepping closer until he was a close distance to Banri, his nostrils flaring and lips snarled. Banri, surprisingly, didn’t like fighting Juza. The evidence was right there next morning, it was just begging for a scolding and lecture from Omi.

“I know what you did.” Juza stated, but Banri almost had to laugh. There were so many things he’s done in his entire life, not to mention just the past month alone, how could he single it to one? Before Banri could give some bratty, sarcastic answer to make him mad, Juza continued.

“Banri, how long are you gonna keep hurting people for your own gain?” Juza asked without looking away, the silence hanging in the air. The tension was so unbearable, Banri just laughed despite the late hour. He knew Taichi was probably stirring awake just from the noise, fuck. Juza didn’t move, even when Banri got closer and fixed his collar like it was nothing.

“Juza...” Banri started, avoiding his eyes as he patted his shoulders with a little bit too much force. More than necessary, that is. “Stay out of it, will ya?” Banri turned to unload his goods, knowing stealing was usually at the bottom of his list, he just needed to get his mind off you. Juza scoffed, standing still as he gazed upon the things Banri somehow claimed without revealing who he was to the authorities.

Reaching out, Juza managed to snatch the deep purple mask from Banri’s back pocket, not needing to examine it any further as Banri spun around with a furious look. In that moment, when Juza said he knew what he did, it suddenly had more meaning now.

“This isn’t good for the company, you know that.” Juza reasoned but Banri was far gone. Banri had spiralled out of control much longer than everyone had anticipated, he hid it so well that no one realized the signs until it blew up in their face. At first, it was harmless little fights behind the school. Now, it was full scale crimes that he could actually be detained for, with a sentence in prison. Knowing Banri, he’d escape just to be in a car chase.

“You think I’d get caught?” Banri joked, pushing everything beneath his bed. Yanking the mask back, Juza pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to be as patient as possible. Before he could say anything, Banri threw his head back with a laugh so hollow it echoed. The desk light flickered again, leaving a moment where Banri was masked in the darkness, like he belonged.

“Don’t worry your ass off about it, the only person I’m hurting here is myself.”

Banri purposely left your name off his tongue. But, Juza knew, knew that nothing would change.

YOU MAKE ME WANT FOR SOMEBODY ELSE

WHAT I WANT, YOU GOT IT WRONG

EVERY DAMN THING YOU KNOW, I WANT IT MORE

JUST BRING ME HOME

“You could die.”

Banri didn’t react, not looking up. He was sat on your floor, closing the curtains tight for once and making sure no one could see him. You were on edge, eyes nervously darting to the window like the police would bust in any second. You stood over him, your shadow hiding every feature as he disappeared within the depths.

“No one said this came with being a damn criminal.” You cursed, crossing your arms and double–checking the locks. Banri had his same old mask in his hands, letting the few streetlights ghost over the material. How long had it been with him? He met you first time in the mask, you haven’t looked at him with it since, like you wished it wasn’t apart of his life anymore. Banri spoke, a heavy edge that had no particular meaning lacing his words.

“No one said you had to be with this damn criminal.”

You paused, slowly turning towards Banri who was still staring steel–eyed at that damn mask. You stomped over, pulling it out of his hands as Banri shot to his feet, about to protest before you stopped him.

“Don’t you get it?! I love you,” You paused, as if waiting to hear it said back to you. It never even crossed Banri’s mind, that’s how insignificant and temporary you were to him. You didn’t know why you even tried anymore. Ignoring the built–up tears choking up your words, you carried on with a shaky tone he was used to hearing.

“But, I’d rather you alive in prison than dead at some crime scene.” You admitted, feeling your hand shake around the mask. Banri nodded, but he wasn’t listening, you knew that. He didn’t flinch from your honesty, he was ignoring you like always. He didn’t bother listening to anything that went against him. You stared at the mask, like it was the source of all your problems, you had never hated something so much in your life.

“Just give it back.” Banri demanded, snatching the mask back with such quickness you couldn’t move out of the way. You watched him open the window, about to leave again, as you blinked away the tears. All he did these days was give you a reason to cry over someone who just didn’t care.

“Do you love me, Banri?”

Banri paused at the ledge, opening his mouth like he wanted to respond. One look at your face and he shook his head, whether out of disagreement or his inability to truthfully answer, you’ll never know. Banri forced the mask back on, concealing his identity as he slammed the window shut. You knew he wouldn’t be gone for too long, you’d see him on the news the next morning.

ON A WINTER NIGHT, I’M TAKING A RIDE ON THE RIVERSIDE HIGHWAY

THAT WE USED TO DRIVE ON

WE WERE IN THAT SMALL PRIDE NEXT TO THAT HUMMER BENZ AND ROVER

STEP ON IT, YOU GOT IT, SWITCH LANES, LET’S RIDE IT

BEEP BEEP, YOU’RE LOSING, CURSES COMING FROM YOUR MOUTH

“This just in, police are on the lookout for infamous thief, X, who stole a police officer’s car and drove it straight into the river. If you have any information on this criminal—” A blurry, grainy snapshot of a teen with a purple mask climbing to the bridge appeared. “Contact your local police station now.”

The news was nearly inaudible over breakfast that morning, but you didn’t dare look back at the television screen. You knew who would come by your room tonight as you gripped your phone in your hand.

Anything in the name of love, right? You would do anything for the ones you loved, dialing the familiar number and bringing it to your ear. A ring passed before someone answered.

If only Banri loved you like he loved death.

YOUR ATTITUDE, YOUR MANNERS

YOUR STYLE, YOUR FRIENDS, YOUR CREW

I JUST GOTTA LEAVE, I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE

I’M BUSY, DON’T CALL ME, ESPECIALLY WHEN I’M ASLEEP AT NIGHT

IT’S TOO LATE TO APOLOGIZE, YOU MADE ME INTO THIS

Banri was already pushing open your unlocked window, slipping in without a sound as he landed into the empty apartment. Strange, you would’ve already been waiting for him like the good person you were. Patiently sitting with your first–aid kit open and restocked for your favorite patient. Pulling off the mask, Banri glanced around to see all the lights were off, the city being your only source of illumination. Everything seemed untouched, in an odd way. There were no creases in your favorite spot on the sofa, no dirty dishes left at the coffee table, the blankets folded and organized. It was as if you hadn’t been home all day.

Before he could move another step, Banri heard a quiet breath. He snapped his head towards the sound, automatically preparing to fight but it was just you, standing nearby. You were already looking at him, a blank expression masking anything you were feeling at the moment. You held eye contact with him over a duration of silence. Not even one question, condolence, or argument. You didn’t say a word. Banri blinked, just to confirm you were actually there.

It was like another day, except you weren’t crying. There were no more tears to be spared, especially over someone who didn’t love you back. You just acted like there was nothing wrong, staring again and again as if this was the last time you’d ever see him.

Banri didn’t get a chance to move closer towards you. With one step, a creak of the floorboard, you straightened your back, not hiding anymore.

“Banri, I love you, you know that, right?” You asked patiently, Banri nodding hesitantly in response as he warily looked around the apartment. He didn’t get a chance to question a thing as you stepped closer, automatically causing him to move back quickly.

“Do you love me, Banri?”

A siren. No, multiple red and blue sirens flooded the dark room as the sets of tires screeched against the pavement. You looked different tonight, maybe it really was the lighting. Before Banri could put his mask back on and run, you placed your hand against his cheek just like that night weeks before. The hard thump of his heartbeat was audible, you wished you could’ve heard the sound even more.

You ran your thumb over a scar beneath his eye, a shaky smile on your dry lips. You wished he said it back, maybe you would’ve helped him escape.

“You should’ve loved me.”

Banri put his hands up with no where to run this time. X marks the spot.