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badchoicesposts · 4 years ago

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In A Land of Myth...

Chapter 12

Summary: When Selene, a young sorceress, arrived in Stormholt she had every intention of remaining anonymous. King Constantine Rys had strict rules on sorcery. The act itself was punishable by death, and she had no desire to be burnt at the stake for her “crimes”. However, it becomes increasingly difficult for her to remain unseen when she becomes Prince Liam’s personal maidservant, and it seems that it’s her job to protect him from everyone that wants to kill him.

Disclaimer: This AU is a cross between TRR, The Crown and The Flame, and BBC’s Merlin. Merlin follows the tale of King Arthur and the sorcerer Merlin. Merlin comes to Camelot where magic is outlawed and is made Prince Arthur’s servant. You do not have to watch the show to understand this fic, but it is based on the BBC show Merlin so the story line will be similar. I don’t own the plot to Merlin or any of the TRR characters.

Word Count: 3,340

Author’s Note: This series is finally back and with a new mood board! Thanks so much for being so patient with the fact that it took so long!

Taglist: @flowerpowell, @bobasheebaby, @alexintheskyy, @slytherincursebreaker, @kingliam2019, @furiousherringoperatortoad, @goldenbirdcrystalcage, @burnsoslow, @zilch3, @desiree-0816, @sanchita012

Let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist!

Catch Up: Masterlist

“I put Kiara up in the room right next to yours, and her father is down the hall,” Selene told Liam.

“Good. The room next to mine is great,” Liam said with a dreamy look in his eyes causing Selene to look at him in curiosity.

“You know, Kiara is really pretty,” she said casually as she began sorting through his laundry.

Liam let out a soft laugh.

“She’s more than just pretty. She’s beautiful, she’s…” he trailed off, wiping the lovesick look off of his face once he noticed her amused gaze. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I didn’t say anything,” she said, with a smile.

“You didn’t have to. I know that look,” he said with a smile. “I’ll have you know that my intentions with Kiara are completely noble.”

“Of course, Prince Liam,” she teased, grabbing a basketful of his laundry and making her way to the door so she could get started washing it.

Selene had barely made it out of Liam’s chambers when she let out a surprised yelp as she felt a firm grip on her wrist, causing her to turn towards a concerned looking Madeleine. The King’s ward led her to a more secluded corner before immediately launching into her questions.

“Who was that woman?” she asked harshly, causing Selene to startle slightly.

“Lady Kiara. Liam and I saw her and her father being attacked in the woods and brought them back with us,” she said.

“How long are they staying here?”

“I’m not sure. Constantine said that they were welcome for as long as they wished to remain. I think he’s considering Kiara as a potential suitor for Liam,” she said, recalling the way the king had spoken earlier. “Liam seems to like her too.”

“They can’t stay here!” Madeleine said insistently, her eyes giving away her concern.

“What? Why? What’s wrong?” Selene questioned.

Madeleine looked conflicted, and Selene could tell that she was holding something back.

“Madeleine, what is it? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me,” she said, trying to convince her to open up.

“Nevermind,” she finally said, turning away from her and walking away purposefully.

Selene stood rooted to her spot for a moment, not sure what she was supposed to do now. Something was obviously bothering Madeleine, but if she didn’t tell her what was going on she couldn’t exactly do anything to help. She carried on with her chores, getting to work on Liam’s laundry and wondering what could be bothering the other woman. Maybe she was jealous because Liam was showing interest in another woman. Liam was showing interest in another woman. Selene was happy for him. She was so happy for him. He deserved to find someone great.

She groaned in frustration as she scrubbed at a dirt stain in one of shirts that refused to come out. She was being passive aggressive. Selene dropped the shirt back into the bucket of water in front of her and sighed tiredly as she thought back to the moment she had shared with Drake a mere week ago.

The two had been avoiding each other like the plague since, both refusing to bring up what happened. She felt another surge of guilt. She was jealous of Liam having feelings for someone when she had been kissing Drake just a few days prior. She was a terrible person. She sighed and began hanging his clothes out to dry before making her way back into the castle. She walked quickly through the halls, a purpose behind every step. If she didn’t talk to someone about what was going on she was going to explode.

“Come with me,” she said, throwing Leo’s door open and grabbing his arm.

“Where are we going?” he asked as she continued pulling him down to the physician’s quarters without answering.

“Hello, Xinghai. Hana, can we talk?” she asked inclining her head towards her small bedroom.

Hana looked at the two of them curiously before following them into the bedroom. Selene pushed Leo down onto the bed and began pacing back and forth in front of him as Hana sat down next to him.

“This is all your fault,” she said, pointing aggressively in his direction. “You and Maxwell did this!”

“Did what exactly?” Leo asked, smirking in her direction and crossing his arms over his chest.

“I was perfectly happy believing that I didn’t have feelings for either one of them and living in blissful ignorance, but then you had to open your big mouth,” she continued rambling.

“What’s going on?” Hana whispered leaning closer to Leo so he could hear her.

“Selene is finally realizing that both Drake and Liam have feelings for her, and I’m guessing she’s realizing that she has feelings for both of them too,” Leo responded, not bothering to lower his voice.

Selene finally stopped pacing and let out a loud groan.

“I kissed Drake,” she confessed, a pained expression on her face.

Hana’s jaw dropped, and Leo let out an impressed whistle.

“I didn’t know you had it in you,” Leo said with a smirk, causing her to roll her eyes.

“And he pushed me away,” she finished, her shoulders dropping in disappointment. “He said that he couldn’t because he could tell that I had feelings for Liam too.”

“What are you going to do?” Hana asked.

“I don’t know! That’s why you’re here,” she said motioning to Leo. “You caused this now you have to tell me how to fix it!”

“Sorry, I don’t fix problems. I just cause them,” he said casually, leaning back against his elbows.

“I hate you!” she said, grabbing a pillow from the bed and throwing it at him. “How am I supposed to make a decision. I should never be left to make decisions. I’m an idiot!”

“You should explore your options. Spend time with the both of them,” Leo said.

“That’s your advice? Just lead them both on?” she asked incredulously.

However, his next comment was promptly interrupted by the sound of Xinghai’s voice ringing through the main room of his and Hana’s chambers.

“Ah, my favorite patient! What brings you by today?” he asked jovially.

“I had another dream. A nightmare,” Madeleine’s voice broke through the air.

Selene raised up her hand to silence him and inched closer towards the door that separated Hana’s room from the main room of their chambers. She pressed her ear against the closed door in attempts to hear their conversation better.

“Liam was drowning, and there was a woman standing over him. She wasn’t touching him, but I could tell that she was the one keeping him under. It was that woman, Kiara,” Madeleine said, causing Selene to take in an anxious breath.

“The mind plays tricks, my dear,” Xinghai said soothingly. “It borrows from everyday life and uses that information to play out its own fantasy. I’m sure everything is going to be just fine.”

“But, I had the dream before she came to Stormholt,” Madeleine insisted.

“You must be mistaken,” Xinghai said again. “Have you been taking the sleeping draught I’ve been sending you?”

“It doesn’t help,” Madeleine replied, her discomfort still obvious in her voice.

“Here, take this. It’ll make you sleep stronger,” Xinghai said.

Selene heard the front door shut a few moments later, and she let out a nervous breath. Leo cleared his throat loudly behind her, causing her to turn back to the two of them. Neither of them had heard the conversation between Madeleine and Xinghai as clearly as she had. Even if they had, she wasn’t sure their minds would have gone to the same place hers did.

“I have to go,” she said, absentmindedly twirling a curl around her finger as her mind began moving a mile a minute.

She opened the door to Hana’s bedroom and sprinted out, saying goodbye to Xinghai on her way out. She went through the motions of the rest of the day on autopilot. That is until Liam pulled her out of her distracted state that evening.

“I’m taking Kiara out for a ride to show her around Stormholt. Can you make sure that two horses are prepared?” Liam asked with a smile.

Selene hesitated for a minute, remembering Madeleine’s dream. However, she couldn’t exactly say no.

“Of course, sire,” she said, causing him to look at her in surprise.

She had gotten into the habit of simply calling him Liam and only ever used a title for him when they were around others and it would seem inappropriate to address him casually.

“What’s troubling you?” he asked, approaching her and pulling her to sit down next to him on his bed.

“Nothing. I’m just tired. I’ll go prepare your horses,” she said, slipping out of his grasp and moving down to the stables.

She made sure everything was ready for the two of them and saw them off before retiring for the day. She picked at her dinner nervously as she tried to figure out a way to bring up Madeleine’s dream with Bastien.

“Bas, there’s something I wanted to ask you,” she finally said, causing him to look up from his plate.

“What is it?”

“Madeleine was being strange this morning after she saw Kiara and her father Hakim, and then when I was visiting Hana I overheard a conversation she had with Xinghai,” she said.

“What conversation?” he asked, listening with rapt attention.

That was something Selene loved about Bastien. He always listened to her. He never brushed off her concerns or made her feel stupid.

“She said that she had seen Kiara killing Liam in a dream, a dream she had before she and Hakim came to Stormholt.”

Bastien let out a nervous breath.

“Is it possible that she has some kind of magical ability?” she finally asked.

“It’s a… possibility,” Bastien said slowly, causing Selene to narrow her eyes at him.

“You already knew didn’t you?” she asked.

“I suspected when I first heard of her nightmares. They may not not be nightmares as much as they are prophecies, visions of the future. I think she may be a seer,” he concluded.

“If that’s true I should talk to her,” she said.

“No,” Bastien immediately said, his guard automatically going up.

“Why not? I can show her that magic isn’t something to be afraid of, that Constantine’s views are wrong,” she argued.

“She’s Constantine’s ward, Selene. If we’re wrong about this then you would have just confided in someone close to him about your own abilities. You can’t risk it,” he insisted. “You would be giving her leverage over you.”

“Bas,” she let out a tired sigh. “I want to help her.”

“I know, but it’s too dangerous.”

“Fine, it’s too dangerous. But, what about right now? If Madeleine’s this great and powerful witch who can see the future and Kiara is trying to kill Liam, what do I do?” she asked.

“You save him,” Bastien replied simply, causing her to roll her eyes in annoyance.

“Can I go one day without having to save him? My life has gotten unnecessarily complicated since I got to Stormholt. You know for a place where magic is outlawed, there seems to be a lot of it around here,” she groaned out. “I should let him figure this out by himself for once.”

Bastien just gave her a knowing look.

“Oh, fine, whatever, I’ll do it myself,” she grumbled, pushing her plate away from her and standing up.

“Where are you going?”

“To talk to Madeleine,” she said, causing Bastien to throw his hands up in frustration.

“What did I just say?” he asked.

“Relax, I’m not going to tell her anything. But, maybe I can calm her down a bit. She seemed inconsolable when I spoke to her earlier.”

Selene walked through the castle halls slowly, trying to figure out how what she was supposed to say to Madeleine when she saw her. She couldn’t tell the other woman that she had magic, but if she didn’t deny it maybe that would get her to open up to the idea. She came to the woman’s door and knocked softly. She was greeted by a smiling Penelope who motioned for her to enter the room.

“Can you give us a moment?” she asked, inclining her head towards Madeleine.

“Of course, if that’s alright with you my lady,” Penelope said, looking towards her employer for confirmation.

“Of course, Penelope. Thank you,” Madeleine said absentmindedly.

Selene approached Madeleine cautiously and took a deep breath before speaking.

“Madeleine, are you alright? You seemed upset when we spoke this morning,” she said slowly.

“I’m fine,” the woman snapped, causing Selene to take a deep breath to avoid getting upset.

“I was with Hana earlier, and I heard what you told her father. I heard about your nightmare,” she said softly.

“And you think I’m crazy?” Madeleine asked, her voice still hard.

“No, I don’t. I just wanted to ask if you were sure. Are you sure that Kiara is the person you saw killing Liam?” she asked, noticing the surprised look on Madeleine’s face at her statement.

“I’m sure of it. And I’m not going to let her get away with it,” she said with determination.

“Let me take care of it,” Selene responded.

“What? Why? How are you going to stop her?”

“I’m not saying that I think for sure that she’s trying to kill him, but there is something about her that I don’t fully trust either,” she responded, not wanting to say that she believed her dream was a vision of the future, but also not wanting to invalidate her feelings. “First, I need to find out who she really is, and what she and her father wants.”

“How do you plan on doing that?”

“I’m a serving girl, remember? It’s my job to clean up rooms around the castle,” she said with a mischievous look. “Don’t worry, Madeleine. I’ll take care of this.”

Selene left the other woman with a reassuring nod and made her way to Kiara’s room. She knew it would be unoccupied because the woman was out with Liam. Her stomach dropped as she remembered this. If Kiara truly wanted to kill Liam she could be doing it right at that moment. Selene battled internally with the thought for a moment, before continuing on to the woman’s room. She pushed the door open and looked around as it shut quietly behind her. Nothing in the room seemed out of the ordinary. In fact the room didn’t seem to be used at all. The only thing that was different was the tall staff that was leaning against the wall next to the bed. Kiara and Hakim both carried it with them at all times, and the woman taken hers when she left with Liam, so this must have been her father’s.

At first glance, Selene had originally thought that the father and daughter had been using them as walking sticks, but on closer inspection, she realized how ornate it was. The staff itself was taller than her, which made sense because Kiara and Hakim were both taller than her, and there were intricate carvings along the wood. There was a large blue crystal at the top of the staff, and it seemed to light up at Selene’s touch.

“What are you doing in here?” an angry voice called from behind her.

Selene whipped around quickly, meeting the gaze of a furious Hakim.

“I’m so sorry. I’m Prince Liam’s servant, I just wanted to make sure that everything was okay in here,” she quickly explained. “Next time I’ll make sure you or your daughter is present before I enter next time. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“See to it that it doesn’t,” Hakim growled out, his eyes briefly flashing red.

Selene did her best not to outwardly react to this, bowing her head slightly to the man in a respectful manner instead and running out the door. She ran back to her chambers without stopping and threw the door open.

“Hakim has red eyes!” she exclaimed, shrinking back as she noticed that Drake and Bastien were both staring at her in surprise. “I mean hello, Drake. How do you do?”

She smiled at him awkwardly, and he did the same, neither one of them making eye contact with each other.

“I was in Kiara’s room cleaning, and by cleaning I mean snooping, and Hakim caught me, and as he was yelling at me his eyes glowed red,” she said.

Selene walked over to the desk Bastien had at the other side of the room and grabbed a piece of parchment and quill from it, bringing it back to where the two men sat at the dining table of their chambers. She began scribbling down the markings she had seen on Hakim’s staff before turning it towards Bastien.

“Does this mean anything to you?”

Bastien shot a nervous look in Drake’s direction and cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“Drake, perhaps you should go,” he said.

“It’s okay. He knows,” Selene said, causing both men to turn to her in surprise.

She had originally planned on keeping the fact that Drake knew about her magic a secret from Bastien, but at this point it couldn’t really do any harm. If anything it would help to have another set of eyes.

“Selene,” Bastien began to scold her, causing her to smile at him sheepishly.

“It’s not my fault! He figured it out on his own!”

“Then it is your fault! He wouldn’t have figured it out if you weren’t so reckless,” he argued.

“Have you ever stopped to think that maybe Drake’s just really smart. If anything it’s his fault for actually using his brain,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest and jutting out her hip.

Drake snickered softly and for a moment it was as if there was no awkwardness between the two of them as she elbowed him roughly to get him to shut up. Bastien rolled his eyes at the two of them and pulled the piece of parchment closer to him. He examined her scribbles for a few moments before rising and rifling through the books he had in his wardrobe. He opened it to a specific page and handed it to her. She looked over the page to see similar markings to the ones that had been on Hakim’s staff. The heading on the page indicated that the creatures were called “the sidhe”, and illustrations of small, blue humanoid creatures with wings were all over the page. They looked like magical creatures out of some fairy tale.

“So the sidhe are like fairies?” she asked, looking up to him for confirmation.

“Oh, no. They’re a cruel race and are masters of enchantment. If we’re dealing with the sidhe Liam could be in grave danger,” Bastien said.

“Of course because it could never be easy for me,” she said, rolling her eyes and sitting down next to Drake. “Last week I was saving Drake’s life and now I’m saving Liam’s. Again. You’d all be dead without me.”

“Technically, it was your fault that you had to save me in the first place,” Drake said.

“Details, details. If the sidhe are freaky, little fairy things, why do Hakim and Kiara look like regular humans?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Looks like you’ll need to find that out on your own,” Bastien said.

~~~

Lucretia looked up from the water filled basin she was watching Stormholt through and replayed Bastien’s words in her mind. The sidhe. Perhaps this would be easier than she thought. She didn’t know this Kiara and Hakim, but if what she knew about the sidhe was correct perhaps they could make this job easier for her. Bastien was right. They were vicious and powerful. If they wanted Liam dead then she had no doubt that they would be able to accomplish it. Constantine’s perfect son would be dead, and she wouldn’t even have to lift a finger.

#the royal romance #the royal heir #trr #trh #liam x mc #liam #king liam #drake walker #drake x mc #drake walker x mc #bastien lykel #bastien x mc #trr bastien #my fics #choices #playchoices #choices fics

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wibblywobblytumblywumbly · 5 years ago

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Morgyn’s Love Story

It was just an average day in the magical realm, and Morgyn was bored. Sure, this place was a haven for spellcasters but what was there to actually do here?

He had been living here for fifty years now. The magical realm was bound in ancient sorcery which kept all living matter static. This was a precaution put in place by the original three sages - a fail-safe to keep the realm stable after the great fracture. When Morgyn first arrived in the realm he had been eager to learn all about it, and had quickly delved into the rich and fascinating history it held. As a result, he discovered that due to this ancient charm anybody who lived here never aged, and at first that had been an exciting discovery. Immortality? Of course he wanted to live forever and learn everything he possibly could about this place! But those thoughts were fleeting. It didn’t take long before Morgyn rose up the ranks, securing his role as the Sage of the Untamed. At this point, he started to realise that eternal youth wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be. Not only was it saddening every time he watched his friends retire to the human world with their families, only to be left forever trapped in magic HQ, but it was so utterly, excruciatingly, mind-numbingly boring. He often stood around on his balcony, thinking about the things he could do to entertain himself. He wasn’t very fruitful most of the time, but that never stopped him before, and today he found himself pondering yet again. “Maybe I could go downstairs and inferniate Simeon,” he mused. “That goody-two-shoes is due for a wake up call.”

It seemed like as good an idea as any, so he decided that he might was well venture down to find the Sage of Practical Magic and deal him a few blows. Sure, L. Faba would be on the lookout for him afterwards, but it’s not like he hadn’t taken her on before. Morgyn stretched his arms, yawned, and went to begin his search for Simeon - but before he could get very far he was interrupted by an unfamiliar person.

“Oh, hi! I’m looking for Morgyn Ember. I’m interested in learning untamed magic. Do you know where he is?” The man asked, his bright purple eyes sparkling with curiosity and excitement. Morgyn paused. He didn’t know who this person was but his immediate first thought was “crap, he’s cute.”

Composing himself, Morgyn nodded and brushed his hair back. “That would be me. Morgyn Ember at your service.”

The man gasped, a grin spreading over his face. “It’s an honour to meet you, Morgyn! My name is Corin Katerquaad. I’m a new spellcaster so I don’t know much but I’m eager to learn.”

Morgyn chuckled and walked closer to Corin. “Pleasure to meet you. Any reason you’re interested in untamed magic in particular?” It was always interesting hearing the reasons people came to him for training, but with this Corin fellow Morgyn was keener than usual to learn why he had been approached. Corin shrugged. “Honestly? It seems like the most fun. Practical magic is too mundane, and mischief magic is too mean spirited. Untamed magic is wild, rebellious and unique. I want to learn it because I guess I’d like to possess those qualities.” The leaves of the trees rustled as Morgyn listened to what Corin had to say. He was so full of vigor and ambition - just like Morgyn himself had been back in the beginning. It was almost like looking into a mirror. He smirked and pulled out his wand. From what he had heard, he already knew he was going to like teaching Corin. “It looks like you’ve come to the right place then,” Morgyn declared, pointing his wand at Corin. “Get out your wand, we’ll begin immediately.”

“Really?” Corin pulled his wand out of his pants pocket. “Thank you!”

“No need to thank me, this is my job.” Morgyn brandished his wand in a figure-eight. “Just listen to me and you’ll be on your way to inferniating Simeon in no time.” Corin raised an eyebrow. “Huh?” Morgyn realised what he said and waved it off. “Nothing. Let’s begin.” And so Morgyn started training Corin in the ways of untamed magic. They spent many days together refining and honing Corin’s skills so he was able to cast the perfect spells.

Soon, days turned into weeks, and Morgyn found himself getting more and more attached to his pupil. Corin had a brilliant mind and was catching on fast. Soon Morgyn would be finished training him, having taught him everything he was able to, and they would inevitably part ways. Yet Morgyn felt like he wasn’t quite done with Corin. While teaching him had been amusing, he had yet to really have fun with him. Smart as he was, Corin was still naive to the darker side of magic. Especially since he had actively been trying to avoid mischief magic. That gave Morgyn the upper-hand in manipulating him. He had been thinking about it for a while now, and he’d decided that he was going to seduce Corin and have his way with him. He simply couldn’t let such a good-looking spellcaster come and go without putting the moves on him, that was just unfeasible. However, Corin didn’t seem that way inclined. They had become very close with each other over their training period, but only on a platonic basis. Therefore Morgyn surmised he was going to need a bit of help persuading Corin to be with him. A love potion would do the trick, he just had to brew one and slip it to his unsuspecting victim. So, one day after their training session had ended, Morgyn took a trip down to Caster’s Alley to buy the ingredients necessary for his love potion.

After he had gathered all the things he needed, he returned to Magic HQ and began brewing his concoction.

It was thick and smelled of freshly picked roses. He had made only a few love potions before, but Morgyn was confident this would be a success. Soon the cauldron was bubbling steadily and the mixture reached just the right consistency. Morgyn put out the flame and began bottling up his yield.

Once he had his potion neatly bottled, he left to find Corin. To his surprise, Corin was already approaching him from behind. “Ah, Corin, I was just about to look for you! I just finished brewing a needs potion, and I wanted to give you some. It will make you feel like a million simoleons. Go on, drink some!”

Corin looked down at the bottle hesitantly. He had never drunk a potion before and was wary of its effects. “...Okay, if you say so.” He took the potion from Morgyn’s hand and put the bottle to his lips. The thick, sweet liquid ran down his throat, and as soon as it hit his stomach he felt something stir within him.

As he gazed at Morgyn, he began to feel overwhelmingly drawn to him. His smiling face looked back, and all Corin wanted to do was take those supple lips and claim them as his own. Suddenly, nothing else mattered except this growing need to ravish the man standing before him. Before Morgyn knew what was happening, Corin had thrown the bottle he was holding onto the ground, smashing it over the carved stone floor, and grabbed Morgyn around the waist, pulling him in closer. The young spellcaster began attacking Morgyn’s neck with kisses, and Morgyn giggled triumphantly - the potion had worked!

He basked in the feeling of success but that quickly wore off, and was replaced with a feeling of unease. The giggles faded and his smiled dropped. Something about this wasn’t right. It wasn’t as fun as he imagined it would be. He quickly pushed Corin away and conjured up a ball of energy, blasting it at Corin before he could come back in for a second round. “Cleario!” Morgyn shouted, ridding Corin of the effects of the potion. As the magic settled around them, Corin blinked and stared at Morgyn, a confused look on his face. After a moment, realisation dawned and he yelped in shock. “Did you just use a love potion on me?!”

Morgyn shrunk back. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t understand why he had done it, or why he had undone it for that matter. Any other time he would have finished the deed and been on his merry way - but this time was different. Something seemed off about doing this to Corin, and he couldn’t put his finger on why. He stood silently, thinking about everything that had happened and that’s when it finally hit him. Oh.

Oh no.

This wasn’t just some passing infatuation. Morgyn was in love. Full-blown, head-over-heels in love. That’s why he didn’t feel right using the potion - he wanted it to be real! He sighed and looked away from Corin. Well, there goes another one, he thought to himself as he worked up the courage to talk. “I’m sorry,” he began. “I only did it because I like you, but you don’t return my feelings, so I guess I fooled myself into believing that if I used a love potion it would solve the problem.” Corin listened silently. It seemed like an eternity before he reacted, by rolling his eyes and bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“You nincompoop! If you paid any attention you would have known the potion was completely unnecessary. Because... I like you too, Morgyn. That’s actually what I came up here to tell you before you gave me the potion.” Corin dropped his hand and wrapped his arms around himself nervously. He had been feeling this way for a long time, from the very first time they had met, actually. He had been stunned by Morgyn’s beauty, and he didn’t know how he’d managed to get through all his training while being so distracted by the devastatingly handsome teacher he’d had. While they were teacher and pupil, he knew he could never act on his feelings, so he kept his interactions as friendly as possible to maintain the appropriate professionalism. But now that their time had come to an end, and he was no longer under the sage’s wing, Corin had finally built up the courage to tell Morgyn how he truly felt. Morgyn blinked. “Really?” Corin nodded slowly. “Yes, really.” Morgyn’s face broke out into a small smile.

“So, does that mean we can go out together sometime?” He asked tentatively, nervously twiddling his thumbs. He’d never been in this situation before. All his previous relationships had been one time flings. He’d never wanted to actually stay around someone the way he did with Corin. Morgyn’s question is what finally made Corin break. He burst out into laughter and nodded enthusiastically. “Definitely, but only if you agree to let me do something first.”

Morgyn raised an eyebrow. “Okay, what do you want to do?” Corin smiled. “I want to kiss you again, properly.” Morgyn blushed. “I can live with that.” As the magic in the air quite literally swirled around them, Corin walked up to Morgyn and took him in his arms once again. This time it was much gentler and warmer. As their lips connected, Morgyn felt a buzzing inside of him. He much preferred this kiss - the soft, loving touch of the real Corin, to the effects of the love potion.

As gently as he placed it, Corin pulled away from the kiss and stood back. He smiled and ran a hand through his hair. “That was nice.” “Yeah, it was,” Morgyn agreed, failing to hide the smile forming on his own face. “Hey, Corin?” Corin arched a brow. ‘Yeah?”

“I think I love you.” “I think I love you too, Morgyn Ember.”

The End

#the sims 4 #sims 4 story #sims 4 screenshots #sims #Morgyn Ember #Corin Katerquaad #Morgyn's Love Story #magic realm #sim stories

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glopratchet · 4 years ago

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retirement-home

Cludstrum is a computer program that is attached to the conciousness of astryl wylde, a journalist for the realm of astokahn It keeps whispering to astryl trying to get him back online, who is full of bitterness and captive to sin and this is evident because of astryl being attached and fused within a succubus and a incubus The retirement village is surrounded by a a wall sandbags and a bunch of other things and they are ready to go at any moment Small lake dripping with blood Undergrowth seeking to capture humans minds making them want to drown themselves and die in this underworld Lightpoles illuminating the areas Construction vehicles making building improvements and Sam Lowers, the chief construction worker controlling everything in front of him painted with tribal tattoos from their machinemaids Green-skinned bodyguards Yellow eye observing everything covering a surgery scar on your stomach Bandages attached to every person in creation observing their heart rate, brain waves etc Monitors Vaccine dispensers watching for when new ideas begin spreading Naked ladies dancing and buttah dispensers injecting dog food into unrealistic dreams Shocktroops training there skills and cornering the ichneumonid market for human hearts Pharmaceuticals testing their medical supplies on orphans High-roller gamers paying for good rolls The smell of leather cleaning out of the automatic carwashes Stock traders looting the fallen cities Lizards breeding on the words of Zaren's sermons, indoctrinating them into sacrificing themselves to build his dreams Gorazel pondering a growth formula A religious pamphlet, telling the whole story of Zaren's speeches Barmaids feeling arousal for the first time Cyber-surgeon bots cutting your brain out and using it for there bidding Sculptures made from the ground-up bones of heretics Agent walking on a catwalk above you, guns in hand, planning a raid on the underworld Borders closing, secrets not holding Random people floundering helplessly in the borderzone of the underworld where the walls have fallen Agent stretching your hands on a cross, taunting you that this could be you if you don't choose their after-life Blood raining from the ceiling Counting money from selling drugs to humans Agent caregiving you, explaining everything you see to you Magnetic poetry, spelling out secrets that the creatures fear Dog -faced individuals fighting for survival above the ground hoping one day they might live above the clouds in normal civilization Agent cheese-making creating inhuman recipes with goat or milk Orcs wrestling Agent roving stealing crops and running away with ichneumonid girl Smell of fresh coffee brewing slowly, filling the night with craving Cyclone fencing keeping humans in reservations Derro discussing over forge Blood falling from ceilings, put there by zealots of other religions Agent well-being check, judging if you need anything else Religious ichneumonid trading slaves Agent coping with solitude by caring for the unimportant humans with kindness Gas lamp illuminating a tax bill demanding 10% of salary Agent catalyzing an emotion within you by killing a rat --- It was about here, that our records ended Agent landscaping the road, trying to make sure the unimportant humans had a good view of the pretty lights Orc looting crypts for Godless magic items Agent mistreating you to keep you poor Orcs called the "runt" by other orcs Agent diagnosing your religious problems at a luxury hotel Goblin alchemist peddling drugs on the street Agent stroking your head Goblin pushing stolen supplies, trying to escape Agent killing you and covering up the incident as nothing more than a sick joke Agent portraying a king, knighting his close friends Goblins playing Goatsinging Agent evoking the dark arts of sorcery to make his living Yelling as you stop breathing Painting pictures and selling them online innocently Agent photographing topless angels of beauty and grace, fresh from the sky For days we tried to decipher these entries But failed Agent joking around, telling similar-looking people they look like someone he was looking for Agent brushing your teeth Sundowning seeing unexplainable figures, feeling irrational guilt Ending we had been looking for lay around the next entry Sanitation Orcs, with slave-pigs controlled with what appeared to be an excessively large dog-collar, dragging a dead hog Colossus presumes the Dead Orc served to lead them But who were "They? The incursions before had been done collectively by both Adventures and Zealots Community-dwelling humans Muckety-mucks would be killed by the heavy-handed human weapon wearers filled with self-righteousness We quietly finish reading Ribbon-cutting with a stone-like dagger, the books ends We presume that by this point, things had gotten too Disneyworld-esque to be organized Balloons pop, falling to earth, and die shortly thereafter It's no longer air-filled, but filled with decay The adventure was over for us Grooming the slaves into the main caste, as it were How did they all get here to begin with? We hold our lantern up Skinnys in cages, stripped of all meaning, poked with symbols and genetic information mixed and matched There's nothing but metal and meat here Counseling in mass to boost the self-esteem of the less fortunate Could OUR ancestors or friends have been part of this? Bartenders mixing fresh drinks for those-who-shuffle-letters The heavy metal doors take forever to open But finally, they do Eating breakfast with friends, in a not quite so uncommon rest stop bathroom The room is massive Large as any hotel we've been to Whisky-joint s with hookers offering extra curricular activities A bird sits, perched on the only wall in this giant room Dwelling on sadness or happiness Slowly, we walk toward the figure Is someone else alive? Have they been here the entire time? Sodbuster breaking the enchantments on his pieces of property The once proud orc has become a homeless person Sleeping in a coffin-like compartment, lights dimmed to an eerie red A heavy thud hits the ground beside us Mini-chainsaw sesaming wood, steam rising as it cuts through an oak Oh dear God, the horrors that we will see later on in the storage facility Astryl holds his temples, looking quite ill Thoughts stirring in his head, though you can't be sure of what they all are Toothpaste squirted onto a cold metal rod, teeth gnashing it in frenzy as it is pushed against gums Four candles sit in a circle Shambles grabbling forward on decaying legs of bone and flesh Silver necklaces shine on his withered skin, settled around rotten flesh Wet-nurse taking care for orphans not capable of taking care of themselves The moment we step inside the door, you feel a horrible feeling darken your mood Chatters of tiny voices bounce off the walls, making you feverishly uncomfortable Several dainty sofas of different colors sit in a conversational area Passageways leading to other parts of the building Running down dark corridors, trying to find your friends in the middle of the night Admission booth, with a wheelchair-bound woman sitting at a desk Weakness-magnets pulling the desperate into their havens We've reached the master of this house Homelike dungeon cells full of vagabonds caught up in the tornado You've seen enough horrors to last you a lifetime Cafffeine psychosis getting into its last drops You could've sworn you heard tiny screams Gerontologist sitting in a leather armchair with leads connecting to a large machine Yes, yes, I am insane and proud of it Tumblebleeds forming in her eyes The desperate attempts, of the lame, to communicate He giggles, pulling a lever on his chair Gusts of wind blowing through broken windows Pro-fusion pamphlets, covering the chair and the floor A cold sweat soaks into your clothes Life-prolonging machinery turned up to the highest notch We're barraged by two dozen tiny fists, as security our taken quite severely Sports drink pourers distracted by the on-goings of the surgeries Pile after pile of bones making you re-think vegetarianism Mousehole your only opportunity to escape this madness Thighs melted from the friction an everlasting nightmare Resurrection men attempting to bring life, back into the dead Terrified employees hold each-other for warmth as the cold wind pours through broken windows Harmonica notes punctuating the silence None of us can sleep, due to the horrors that stalk our nightmares Mattresses caked with blood stained sheets Sporting more than a few scars, the three of us decide sleep is no longer for us Booty running out of fresh corpses Rougarou sightings, angry voices buzzing in your mind We made it through the night, but only barely Rusted-out guillotines standing by, in case High Society is truly ungrateful The gibbering voices continue, just out of your perception Phosphorus consumed by the gallons The walls are soaked in blood, with bits of rotten flesh caked into it Strung-out on Organic Love Megalomaniac obsessed with the submissive pleasures of the flesh Another scraping noise, the insides of your mind threaten to burst out of your ears Dust -covered vases bursting with roses the first token of what is to come Patriots tripping on peyote, sparks bursting from snapping electricity The walls dripping with condensation and blood, an obvious sign of infection among the staff Adrenaline pumping through your veins Time seems to almost stop, a life of unending torment Conquistadors bursting through the doors, encrusted blades in hand Prayers to gods you don't believe in, offered as a last ditch effort for salvation Gangrenous pus oozes from the ceiling, your only companion in this house of horrors All around you, dark shadows flit from wall to wall Faucet water turned red with blood, mutilated bodies fill the hallway At least you're not on the menu Prophecy -fulfillment, that all depends on your definition of the term You lay alone, gurgling out a plea for help Triangulation of terror coordinate your deaths! Zombies clawing at the interior, scratching at the blood-caked windows Preachings of hell's fire and brimstone recorded onto endless looping tapes Teddy bears sewn together, a symbol of your "creation Corrosion eats away at the metals that make up the structure You lie still, contemplating your squalid existence so far Soapbox soliloquies abnormalities abound here "Your last twenty-four hours Moisture from the walls eats away at the wood planks Your heart thuds in your chest, survival instinct kicking in Sermons from your school days echo through the walls do those memories still hold true? Lobotomize yourself! Boggles the mind what one will do to survive the supernatural at work You grow longer ripping through your skin Delivery men dropping off the ingredients to your death Herds of undead knock incessantly at the door can this door hold? Toothbrushes The weight of the package all too familiar buried beneath where you lay, where only remnants remain of those who came before Diamonds the traditional gift for your 20th anniversary Dozens of zombies clawing at the flesh, ripping it from your bones Talisman blessed by your mother, a gift holding sacred energy The beam creaks, agonizingly slowly bending in your favor Stinky unwashed cannibal hermits who inevitably feast upon one another The demons come to visit, your mind now their playground Insecticide seeps through the fabric, keeping the infected at bay A living hell, this wandering in the wilderness only death awaits Oozes burst from your stomach, you can feel them writhing under your skin Your mind capsizing from this dreadful operation Newspapers thumbed-through one too many times, decades old dust sets in Desperate scratching at boarded up windows Diplomats of a war-torn nation arrive, out for blood You grow short of breath, the internal collapsing of your organs Jocks from your high school, well-deserved carnage will ensue Why does this fruit taste off? Will the end come from septic shock? Eskiminzins with their knives at the ready A writhing horde of epiglOTTis, about to overwhelm you Physique reduced to a withered husk, your primal brain will take over Calculus exams, endless retakes to pass your classes Endless suffering Garden-variety viruses kill half the world's population The screaming as everyone slowly goes mad can you drown it all out? Chemicals streaming through your blood to wake you from this nightmare Shapeshifters bursting through the walls, solid facade fading away Zombie demon Designers mad scientist surgeon paparazzi Parasites, multi-legged creatures, wrigglies myriapods! Anatomy has by no means been set in stone Teeth embedded in your skin, how long can you resist? Populations of masculine entities grow discontent Nuclear families of the 20th century, nonexistent Blood-thirsty demonic Coffee -addicted octogenarians born in the wrong decade The Vietnam War spurs a new art movement Hoppers creep upon you, offspring of the devil himself These voices trapped in your head, incessantly screaming at you Livers pulled out through your nose, tormented by gory smatterings Do you have what it takes to survive? Nobility on the run from the red terror, experience horrors beyond your wildest nightmares The roaaar of DøDT please if you love horror Vicinity of the university, good thing you decided to major in the liberal arts You hunger but fear not! insatiable hunger Vitamins a bit of an urban legend, read on to find out why Scorpions the arch-enemies of campers everywhere Pull the hairs on their back and Watermelons green salads and kebabs to stop your belly from churning Just saw a beautiful girl on the side of the road Dumpster diving, scoffing the leftover's's of the fast food industry Out of gas help! What does the future hold? Bravado meet ruthless desperation Thank the heavens you sold your Geometry textbook back in September The roads are yours, free from the confines of cars Dune buggies, ATVs and dirt bikes take to the desolate highways Spindly mutants pour from the woods, a hefty price on your head Apocalypse-weave tunics protect you from the hungry stares of cannibals The rusted hulk of a 18-wheeler lurks in the distance Spit-and-polish Metalworking books in tow, you start to seek out the local garages soldiers with a stark disregard for human life Super-soldiers bred for war, they now scavenge the barren land Nobody can hear you scream over the sound of gunfire Teetotaler beer in hand, you slaughter every abusive ceo of a multi-million dollar company Zoologist escaping the destruction of the Superdome, OAPs the new insurgent swear word Lizard-on-a-stick for a roadside snack, quite underwhelming to be honest Truck stops, meeting grounds for the nondescript American Endoskeleton ensnared by trees, the Halloween haunted house you always wanted Dangerous fauna abound, eat or be eaten Phenotype Trees are on the verge of sentience Phenotype: Leave this world behind, ascend to a higher plain Moreauvian nightmares the byproduct of 20th century brought cry back to life Was this fate pre-ordained? You choose your friends with great care When it comes to entering the earth on must do it very precisly Testosterone-laden world, lower IQs and higher walls the other side looked very appealing You need to enter the air at a precise speed and angle If a bad odor arises, move 30 feet away and find a new spot If you return too fast or too steeply bad things will happen Murky liquids are solid in these gloves, can't feel anything If impact is to shallow then back you go back into space to be frozen once more The three requirements deceleration heating accuracy of landing or impact Tell that to the family of the now brain-dead father and soon-to-be motherless children You will need to float the egg in some liquid so you will need to find some liquid that is the same as egg whites The container will need to be rigid to make sure that the walls do not flex or the egg could bang on the walls of the container and crack An egg can withstand between 20 to 30 gs before cracking so you will need to come up with something that slow allows the passengers to travel at 30gs ; (good protection) A vehicle that is carrying loads from New York Throttle, brake, clutch and will be needing a 20-tonne rated winch wait, is that 5th gear? starting jumping up and down in front of the tracks until I climb a tree brush-clearing machinery and many feet of chain careening down at twice the speed of the gazelle in front

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irishais · 8 years ago

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street magic and hedgewitchery in ff8;

Okay, so I’ve been musing over this post for the last week or so, trying to figur out exactly how I wanted to nail this down, but it’s going to be my usual rambly bullshit, and I’m okay with that.

So, in VIII, magic is clearly not a threat. Garden uses it with almost casual aplomb, and source magic/sorcery is clearly a thing, with drawpoints just sort of kicking around everywhere and giant beasts that are capable of being stuffed in people’s heads and augment their abilities. It’s arguable that every single person on the planet can wield magic in some form or another, from really basic “stir the pot” cooking spells to full-on folding the fabric of time and space. (Women are specifically called out in canon for this because of the sorceress theme of the game, but there’s no reason why it can’t apply to men, too– coughs and points in the direction of Seifer’s ability to cast and draw without needing junctioning or a GF. There’s also no canon to dictate that a man can’t be a sorceress with a knight of his own.)

Sorceresses are the threat, in canon the source of great evil and terrifying manipulation of power, but for every sorceress that’s gone completely off her nut, there have to be hundreds of women who can use the same magic on a much more minor scale, kitchen witches and herbalists and self-professed white mages traipsing around the world offering their services (you have to remember that 8 is in the middle of a radio blackout; it’s kind of a given that traveling healers have to be a thing in outpost towns and villages where there isn’t a major medical center, because it’s not like they can just call for an ambulance.)

Dr. K is probably a white mage who got lucky and got hired at Garden, which is why she’s so competent at managing an entire school full of people who really aren’t meant to be using magic, but are doing it anyway thanks to Better Living Through Science.

There’s undoubtedly a ranking marker for who’s more compatible with what– I, personally, refer to this as M-cells. Over a certain amount indicates some proficiency with source magic and your GF/paramagic compatibility skyrockets. Below a certain number, it’s like trying to get a particularly unfriendly weasel to read your mind with mixed results. Garden undoubtedly farms out a lot of its SeeDs for medical research purposes who sit on either end of the scale. Odine is probably there.

Basically what I am saying is that there are kids who are hanging out in their backyards, drawing spells from the earth and making toys float and glow and catch fire. There are gangs of reckless youths in Deling City who sit on the train and terrorize innocent people with fire spells and the threat of a thundara through a big metal box. There are baristas who use a little bit of their magic to keep a favorite customer’s coffee hot for an extended period of time. There are old ladies singing Siren’s songs to their gardens to make them grow a little better.

There are a ton of small-time contracts that cross Squall’s desk from police forces in provinces with a lot of draw points and too few compatible magic-users to successfully deplete or cordon them off from the public’s use.

Inevitably, there are a lot of SeeDs who burn out early or are forced into retirement from paramagic overuse/”poisoning.”

Have I mentioned recently that I have a lot of feelings about the freaking unexplored lore that could exist for this game?

#headcanon;#ffviii #ff8 #look i'm having feelings here and you can't stop me

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needsmoretea · 8 years ago

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[VICYUU FIC RECS]

Apologies in advance for clogging up your dash with the super long post. I’ve been meaning to do a YOI fic recs list since, like, forever, but then college kicked my ass, which is why it’s taken me so long to get this up. Hopefully you’ll come across something you haven’t read before, and please leave a kudos or a comment if you enjoyed it!

A Glide In Your Step by Yuu-chii, complete, angst, 10k

Ah, Yuuri thinks as his skates touch down on the ice, and even as Yuuko watches him it’s the weight of Viktor’s eyes he feels on his shoulder blades, I’m not ready to let this go.

A Lesson in Wanting by awesometinyhumanbeing, complete, au, 12k

"He's so beautiful, Chris," he says it almost like a prayer. "He's beautiful and I was a fool, and I wish I didn't have to feel so guilty about loving him." The understanding that dawns in Chistophe's eyes is at once a relief and a heartache. "Oh, Victor," he says, and the smile he gives him is the smallest and saddest Victor has ever seen him give. (Or, alternatively: Victor ties himself into a knot known as Katsuki Yuuri—in more ways than one—and they navigate their way to each other in a series of fits and starts, miscommunication, and Herculean pining.)

Dancing Daffodils by grayclouds, ongoing, au, 55k

"As Love gently wipes away the tears that trail down his cheeks something within Victor quakes, its tremors resonating throughout his entire being like a deafening echo. He is in the arms of a god." A god falls for a man.

Details by Robotsquid, complete, nsfw, 3.2k

Victor is a very detail-oriented person. He always notices the little things about Yuuri.

Feast When You Can by autoeuphoric, complete, nsfw, 3.2k

At twenty-four, Yuuri has a lot of things most people don’t. Custom-made ice skates, chronic knee pain, over 8,000 instagram followers. Corporate sponsors, a wikipedia page, a modest but colorful collection of fanfiction written about him. But he’s never had a sex life before.

From the Moon by butterbeerbitch, complete, nsfw, 4.8k

Or that one time Victor finds out why Yuuri has never let him inside his bedroom because....well, we all know why…

Here On the Roof of the World by jibrailis, complete, humour, 2k

Figure skaters are such crybabies.

I Think I May Have Loved You First by perennials, complete, 1.3k

Here are the facts: Yuuri is drunk. Viktor is not. Yuuri is riding an alcohol-induced high so far up above the clouds he cannot even begin to comprehend the weight of his actions back in the human realm. Viktor is falling in love.

Kibitzing by euphemisms, complete, 4.3k

Some people think that Viktor Nikiforov could have done a lot better than Yuuri Katsuki. Some people should learn to keep their opinions to themselves.

Lay Us Down (We’re In Love) by chromyrose, complete, 4.8k

He meets me where I am. It was Viktor's love that taught Yuuri how to love himself.

Lie to Make Me Like You by cityboys, complete, au, 80k

It’s become a game, of sorts, to anyone privy to the fact that the pattern exists in the first place: ask Victor out at the beginning of the month, date for however many days, and wait for the end to come and for Victor to say, always: I couldn’t fall in love with you. Let’s break up. Or, Victor is a retired actor looking for love, and Yuuri happens to be the (un)fortunate soul to unwittingly ask him out at the beginning of the month. Except relationships don't come with a script, and it's much harder understanding love than roles.

Naturally Yours by chellethewriter, complete (part 4 of 4), 7.3k

Yuuri has never considered himself a “natural” at any particular activity. Almost nothing comes easily to him. Learning to land a jump, dropping unwanted weight, stifling his own overwhelming, crushing anxiety-- all of those things have cost him years and years of tedious practice and rehearsal… have battered him with rigid mountains of frustration and failure. Viktor’s smiles are fluid, passionate, overpowering -- worth more than money, worth more than anything that Yuuri could possibly offer. They’re worth all the stars in the sky and everything beyond. But he gives them to Yuuri freely, easily, every day. Viktor’s love is the steadfast “almost” standing between Yuuri and a formidable “nothing.” (In other words, Yuuri attempts to understand how and why his idol came to reciprocate his feelings.)

Of Glass and Gold by smudgesofink, complete, angst, 4.4k

“Just hear me out,” Yuuri presses. He can feel heat burning behind his eyes and he grits his teeth, fighting back the tears. If he cries now, Victor will be too occupied with comforting him to actually pay attention to what he’s saying. “I want you to be happy.” “I am,” Victor grounds out, confused and hurt. “I’m happy with you. What even gave you the idea that I’m not?" “Because I’m never going to win gold!” Yuuri shouts. His words echo like a gunshot, and the silence that follows it is haunting. (In which Victor is gold--magnificent, breathtaking, brilliant--and Yuuri is glass--transparent, thin, breakable.)

Pieces On a Board by Lavender_Showers, complete, character study, 1.3k

In the Rostelecom Cup, JJ knew that Yuuri Katsuki was not a king after watching his free skate. Now, in the Grand Prix Finals, JJ knew that his observation about Yuuri wasn’t wrong. Yuuri wasn’t a king.

Praise Please by surveycorpsjean, nsfw, complete, 5.2k

Viktor is a good coach. Strict, talented. But Viktor is kind. He gives praise like a waterfall, overflowing and loud and it makes Yuuri drown.

Prismatic by seventhswan, complete, fluff, 2.5k

“Ne, ne, Yuuuuri,” Victor says, clearly enjoying himself, “so it’s like that, is it?” It’s like nothing, Yuri thinks furiously, except he can’t actually say it because it’s exactly like that. The back of his neck is sweating. He feels as though it’s written on his forehead in big neon letters, KATSUKI YURI IS TOTALLY INTO EVERY WEIRD THING VICTOR NIKIFOROV DOES.

Show Him What He's Missing by airspaniel and dance_across, complete, nsfw, 10k

A good friend would get Yuuri some pants. A good friend would let Yuuri take a second to get dressed and compose himself after getting walked in on like that. But Phichit isn’t a good friend; Phichit is Yuuri’s best friend.

Some Things Require Leaving by idrilka, complete (part 1 of 3), 3k

It still amazes Victor, how much one person can feel like home. (Or: On leaving and returning.)

Specks of Silver In the Evening Sky by Winchilsea, complete, 3.9k

Loneliness compels you to get a dog, not wipe drool from the corner of a stranger’s mouth with your own thumb. (Or: Viktor's kink is taking care of Yuuri.)

The Clavicle-Snapped Wish by astoryaboutwar, complete, fluff, 6.5k

The sun glints off their twin gold bands, the band strikes up their first dance, and together, they follow each other into the rest of their lives. (Or: the wedding fic fix we all need.)

Unimaginable by emilyenrose, complete, time travel, 4.8k

Sixteen year old Victor spontaneously travels to the future, where he's... retired? And married?

With a Boy Like That It’s Serious by Kevystel, complete, 2.1k

‘I’m dating Viktor,’ Yuuri says, nervous despite himself. ‘Seriously?’ Yurio demands. ‘I thought the two of you were already married.’

Viktor Nikiforov and Katsuki Yuuri are an item. The world reacts.

With the Engine Inside by RC_McLachlan, nsfw, complete, 2k

Victor brought this on himself.

And of course, the omegaverse recs get a section all of its own because I read way too much of it. As ever, enjoy. <3

A Silhouette of Three by Anna (artic_grey), complete, hurt/comfort, 21k

Yuuri and Viktor are aiming for a third consecutive Grand Prix gold as the new skating season rolls around. Halfway through the qualifiers, however, Yuuri realises that he's pregnant. He can either tell Viktor, who he knows would freak out and demand that he withdraw from the Grand Prix, or he can keep his mouth shut, keep his mate at bay, and win the gold that he's worked so hard for. Easier said than done.

Be the salt on your skin by alykapedia, complete, 5+1 things, 2.2k

Yuuri’s heat arrives two weeks after Viktor shows up. (Or: the five times Katsuki Yuuri spent his heats alone, and the one time he didn't (and never would again).)

Calm After the Storm by garbage_dono, complete, 10k

Yuuri and Victor, newly bonded, prepare to become new parents.

Catch me when I start to fall for you by lazulisong, complete, 2.9k

It's really bad, worse than even meeting a beautiful boy at a stuffy banquet and getting a mouth and nose full of his scent and then that beautiful boy disappearing so thoroughly that Victor couldn't even chase after him. Victor was going to watch that beautiful boy win silver after silver, hundredths of a point behind Victor, and parade his gold medals around him. Look at me, look at me, look how strong and beautiful I am. Let me be strong and beautiful for you.

My Name On Your Lips by feelslikefire, ongoing, au, 89k

Yuuri Katsuki has been betrothed to the High King's son, Victor, since he was just a child; furthermore, as an omega, he's forbidden from practicing magic in combat. For years, he's been able to put off the former because the Prince was traveling abroad, and gotten around the latter by practicing with his mentor in secret. Now Victor Nikiforov has finally returned home, and Yuuri is being summoned to the capital for their wedding. He needs a plan to put off marriage long enough to find a way to break the betrothal, while keeping his practicing from being discovered. If only the Prince didn't have other ideas. (Or, the swords-and-sorcery arranged marriage AU.)

Want by applecheeked, complete, nsfw, 0.6k

On nights like this, when he’s cold and alone and wants nothing more than to fuck the heat out of Yuuri, Viktor imagines.

#yuri on ice #fic rec #victuuri

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faith1974896148-blog · 7 years ago

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Tarot card Readings Where Nines Or even Eights Appear.

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vitalmindandbody · 8 years ago

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Our life in three stagecoaches- academy, toil, retirement- will not survive much longer | Lynda Gratton and Andrew Scott

Babies born today have a good chance of living to be 105. If us to be able to exploit the great opportunities raised by longevity we must abandon outdated the idea of a traditional life

For much of human history, life was reservoir described by Thomas Hobbes as nasty, brutish and short. However, sustained technical, financial and social progress over the centuries has raised living standards and life expectancy. While these benefits have not been spread equally across countries, or even within countries, in general, life is now less nasty, little brutish and certainly less short. The defy now is to ensure that this progress continues in the face of originating longevity.

Over the last 200 times, good rule life expectancy has increased at a near constant frequency of more than two years every decade. If this tendency resumes, a child born in the UK today has more than a 50% likelihood of living to 105. On average, the majority of them extra years of life will be healthy ones. It is as if the arc of life has been extended.

Our interest is in what this extending arc of life means for individuals and how authority can best react. Currently, the main focus is on dealing here ageing and end-of-life issues such as pensions and healthcare. But longevity is not just about ageing it has critical implications for all ages. Already, people are marrying and having babes later, making mid-career divulges, taking time out to explore, improving their own enterprises, going back to education. This is already leading to a redefinition of age how many times have you heard that 70 is the new 60, or 40 the brand-new 30?

Those who lives to 100 have around 100,000 additional productive hours than persons living to 70. Surely, undertaking will take a significant portion of these hours. Historically low-toned interest rates and ripening longevity are destroying the inadequate provision societies have attained for future pension assist. Unless people are prepared to save more, then the inevitable upshot is that they will have to work longer. Already in the UK, one in 10 beings over 70 is still in employment, doubled the figure of 20 years ago.

Simple calculation been shown that, given the current level of household savings, those aged 20 today are likely to be working into their belatedly 70 s or even early 80 s and those in their mid-4 0s into their early or mid 70 s. We need to create a macrocosm where this is feasible and advantageou, a style that makes a longer life a favor and not a curse.

However, this is not just about running longer the broader defy is how to restructure social and working lives to stir better usage of these additional hours. The life design that emerged in the 20 th century a three-stage living for education, job and then retirement is unlikely to survive this elongation.

How can you maintain and construct productive assets when most education takes residence in your 20 s? How can what you have learned are still relevant over the next 60 years against a backdrop of technological convulsion and industrial metamorphosi? There is also the question of vitality while an unbroken, expansive working life may solve the financial objection, it will inevitability expend other important resources of life, such as health and friendships.

A way around this is a multi-stage life with changes and flouts in between. In one stage, the focus may be on accumulating financial assets, in another creating a better work-life poise. Sometimes, the permutations will be driven by personal option, at other times obliged by technological obsolescence.

These multi-stage lives require a aptitude in managing transitions and reflexivity supposing possible selves, “ve been thinking about” the future, reskilling and building brand-new and diverse systems. At its good, it offers people an opportunity to explore who they are and arrived here a lane of living that is nearer to their personal prices. Might it be that this growing realisation of longevity is behind the oft-stated affirms about how millennials have different significances and attitudes to previous generations?

These new ways of living create opportunities and possibilities. Yet most public debate around longevity is profoundly negative. It is governed by feelings over the risks of ill health and senility and the distressing realisation that retirement will not be achieved at the age numerous expected , nor at high levels of financial defence suspected. Our existing social universities are supporting inadequate to deal with this increased life expectancy and throwing up stresses and stress that require debate and a brand-new policy agenda.

Two pressing issues concern inequality both across generations and across income groups. The intergenerational topics are the subject of a Resolution Foundation report Stagnation Generation: The Case for Refreshing the Intergenerational Contract. If long-term economic growth has refused, the current young will be the first for centuries facing the prospect of lower income than their parents. The place is degenerated if government taxes the young in order to make good past predicts made to older generations.

Longevity has increased over time and so feigns each generation differently. Those near retirement require a guarantee about pension income, while those emerging into adulthood need support efforts to attain the most of a 100 -year life and their multi-stage tour. That means that the intergenerational contract needs rewriting to reflect the fact that the working careers of the young will have very different needs to those of the recently retired.

The other pressing inequality is around income. Life expectancy isnt increasing at the same charge for all, and for some it is declining, with the gap between rich and poor straining to more than 10 times. Overcoming this gap is challenging. It is possible to redistribute income from the rich, but hopeless to give years of life. The question becomes even more acute when retirement ages are increased. If life expectancy isnt increasing for the poor, but the retirement age is, then there is a real risk of eliminating retirement for many, creating a life that is nasty, bestial and long.

So what should governments do? There is already a developing focus on end-of-life issues, such as social care and pensions. For pensions, the main focus has been on changing the parameters of a three-stage life eg changing retirement age, contribution paces and pension right. These endeavors need to be broadened to encompass a wider range of measures that is encouraging health and productive ageing and corroborate a multi-stage life.

Two types of programs are critical. The first is enabling measures designed to set a positive tint for the debate. That parties are living longer, healthy lives is not a negative it is an opportunity that should be seized. That symbolizes altering age-specific features of the tax and benefits system towards a lifetime approaching. Legislation will likewise be needed to create greater support for those striving greater flexibility. Take, for example, the length of the working week and provided on holiday age, which are currently standardised. As people realise they may work into their 70 s and 80 s, they will want to sustain their vigor and productivity by taking sabbaticals and toiling flexibly. Each will create their path of working and living and legislation will be needed to support such diversity as corporations may be slow to greeting, and then for a favoured few. With a longer life, education ceases to be a one-shot competition early on, so provisioning lifetime reinforcement, including tax allows, for the purposes of the sorceries of education will be crucial.

The other placed of policies is supportive ensuring that the benefits of a good, long life are spread to the many. Tackling inequality in life expectancy has to be a priority and needs to go beyond the usual platitudes of public education and health payment to get a deeper to better understand its justifications. Likewise, given the dissimilarity in life expectancy, it seems inescapable that a single retirement age and a uniform commonwealth pension cannot be sustained. Inevitably, this proposes a multi-tiered pension system, with different options of retirement age and pension benefits linked to life expectancy and income.

More radically, if differences in investment are what drives difference, then over a longer life, difference will increase. During the 20 th century, there was significant position investing in free education and infant care the key periods of investment for a three-stage life. As increasing life expectancy creates a multi-stage life, “theres been” abundance of other periods when similar investments are necessary. The changes required to adapt to a 100 -year life are already under way, but governments and ventures lag substantially behind the actions of individuals.

This is an agenda for the activities of the decade ahead and poising the most varied needs of different groups will be challenging. The chance is that the baby boomers will focus government tending on retirement and healthcare, while the views of the young disappear unheeded about the likes of lifetime education, science developing, flexible working and transitions.

The increase in longevity has passed gradually, but has reached a level that requires a fundamental redefinition of the social and financing institutions that support it. We can each look forward and do our best to prepare ourselves and our families for these longer lives. But the political and policy debate is only just beginning.

Lynda Gratton and Andrew Scott, profs at London Business School, are the authors of The 100 Year Life: Living and Working in an Age of Longevity.To assess how developed you are for a longer life call http :// www. 100 yearlife.com/ diagnostic. The Resolution Foundations Intergenerational Commission this week unveils, alongside Gratton and Scott, research into the challenges raised during a longer life. http://ift.tt/29FgbAu