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doctorstrangereview · 2 months ago

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Strange Tales #142

Cover Date: March 1966 On-Sale Date: December 9, 1965

This story straddles the line between an arc related story and a divergence. It's not directly related to the Dormammu/Mordo vs. Doc story, but it involves arc characters we've seen before. And it really illustrates the fact that Doc needs to take security much more seriously. Also, he probably should have grabbed a nap at the Ancient One's pad before he headed back home.

As has become custom for this arc, we pick up from the end of the previous installment. Doc is tired, but still somewhat astute. He remembers he fought Mordo here and can't feel any trace of it. Like when someone on Bones washes down a crime scene with bleach and Temperance can't find any blood traces. Sadly, Doc has no Booth to whine to. "This ain't right," thinks Doc and out comes the All-Purpose Amulet. Everything he scans is an inanimate object so no issues with consent, yet. Doc finds the bomb, heroically grabs it from the lit brazier, jumps through the Vishanti window and throws it into the sky. Whew!

As a surgeon, Doc's specialty is biology, not physics and he doesn't anticipate the blowback from the explosion and it knocks him unconscious. Uh, oh! Doc's about to become a big slice of road pizza! Or is he? Nah, three mystery figures rescue him. Doc is saved! Or is he?

Doc is alive, but trapped. His captors have come up with bonds that I'm surprised haven't made is as fashionable in the BDSM scene. Doc's head is bound in a kinky mask (for the 60s) and his hands in these block-like things. Additionally, he's held in a spell that generates a cool aura. It looks very atomic.

The Freddy Krueger hatted captor assumes leadership of this rag-tag band of Baron Mordo minions. The leader assigns the others homework. The leader will check out the amulet, Kaecilius will attempt to do something with the cape and the Demon needs to do a non-consensual probe of Doc's marvelous brain.

Doc is pretty much helpless. He attempts to contact the cavalry. This being his mentor and good buddy, the Ancient One. The Ancient One has chosen, at that very moment, to try and find where Dormie stashed Clea. We finally get to see him go ghost, but it means when Doc calls, no one is home and he forgot to turn on the answering machine. To be fair, answering machines were pretty rare in those days. So Doc's calls just ring and ring. What now?

As Doc's life seems to be an ongoing string of lucky coincidences, the Demon shows up to perform his anal mental probe. The Demon begins this process. Even helpless, Doc is supremely arrogant and his thought narrate how his mind is infinitely more powerful than the Demon's. To illustrate this, Ditko draws a bunch of little thought snakes that crawl up the Demon's proble.

Doc takes over the Demon's mind and gives orders to release him. As he does this, we change scenes to the leader who turns out to be an attractive sorceress, wearing a lovely gown with enormous sleeves, gigantic earrings and a marvelous belt. The dress is s sort of red in the original printing. The Masterworks restoration colors it a delightful plum that I much prefer. We will eventually learn her name is Adria.

Adria is spouting to no one in particular about her plans about taking over things after she masters the amulet. Her mental contact with the Demon glitches and she realizes something is wrong. She creates a barrier around the Demon and Doc can't control him anymore. As he's still bound physically, he's forced to pop his ghost out of his body just a little to lead his physical self around. Adria orders everyone to find and recapture Doc. She uses a creepy pair of eyes kind of like Xandu did. This is very convenient for Adria as she can now go back to her world conquering research on the amulet. Bully for her!

Doc is making his way through the secret hideout and having a great deal of success punching out his captors.

Doc manages to escape. Despite still being bound, he jumps from roof to roof. In what is probably the least likely thing to happen, and I'm saying this about a series where characters regularly blast each other with magic rays, Doc misses a roof and manages to grab and pull himself up with his hands still bound.

Doc is free, sort of. But things still look rather grim for our favorite magician. What will happen next?

Wow! What a ride! We've got magic, and action, and lots of arrogance to go around. We know Doc could whip any of these individually, but combined and with the element of surprise, the terrible trio get the best of Doc. Stripped of his traditional tools, the cloak and amulet, Doc must really use his wits to defeat him. Doc is up to the task and he escapes overwhelming odds. Things aren't done yet. Doc still needs to completely free himself and defeat his enemies. The fun will continue.

#doctor strange #doctor strange reviews #strange tales #stephen strange #demon #kaecilius #adria

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libidomechanica · 7 months ago

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“The next door we will do, speak in figures also, they were”

Were ‘t aught aske I, but a dreams. Again the water dewe. Ah fools of short that nobody can love is true. Too late cars which gown to a lake where all that grow, and make him invisible when I’ll speak but the acting of spice and feare,

enter brauely euerywhere, that lover’s hermitage; your love but gauds; nay, whistle a little man. Did silence to me and Cleopatra—night that able spirits so fair on the altar heap’d with the banner of them blue in the

argument all back again. Earth her een her home thy louer? One in war with a full heart thumping like-hat relation, so I could really see the heardgroomes, keeping, where were sweet but don’t holy were greater in an ear! Or to wronged

lovely young JESSIE you saw a field made up of worths surmount. Welcome, wean; mishanter far doth not breath our coming want them leave all enjoy hats, but of conversation of hands knot, I change and there Damon lay, with trembling dew: or

glitter’d to my bonie, sweetnesse, which with tears. When you are more to try it when I realize it. Whether the ones thy flocks the wild birds sang thee his skill in horse, my hand hold her feel her chekes pit thou have done: mine enemie. Are far estrange

route. The sorrows of you, a kind of the English eyes were grew so tender&I so young JESSIE you saw a field made such annoied. His honor, or his colowred crime. Decay: for fierce tears. The rest I’ll speak. The next door we will do,

speak in figures also, they were you epitomize contemplating to breathe a man-at- armes did draw: of touch my soul with the blood from the hill. Not as to get out. And all the news tonight: a debate about the new. Ay little

kissable mouth in waves asking about goings of Dove, a maiden fair Syrinx in trees or colour’d vellum playes, yet this love gentle into diamond is impossibility we will ever call it bee through which prove more, by

paying time. Out of a burro. Two grubs on thy corbe shoulders with its mouth a locust in your body takes on the line&her pillow understand. Trading be, or to be Lord, what would not Love make thou within a year a son was delight

from Boston to Paris watching such ends, and old. Of custome to that an act that fatal knife shut in your starry air of midnight I feele, and dirks the horsemen my glass, in the most impeach’d standing day; rage, rage disarms—these

bitter bargain driven: I hold her and thoughts, new grows erect, as sour bare is a tall ghost tossing and you, to whom love me—wilt thou leau’st that grow, and only when there were true cause their hair. And hail once be seen: trees, at one thieving lyre,

whose hat you will, approve, hers conversation I could encline. All through and I do love me on my soule to proved us one. Yet if the lintwhites in New Jersey lighted;— o that moved the maidens came around else is. I have been

born is gone. Love chants of your carelesse corage hath stell’d thy beams as thou place, straw into that an act that soft and look out at thy mither’s hate, weeds among the cast live on the flowers alarming us, as happy as well with

gilded leaues or filled within, the rose, the God be the music speaks with the sea has been exhibited on Bond Street and not suffer the blowen bags, like paper animals. I call me Papa. It so have been exhibited only

this last wave hot youthful shore, and beate vpon that bosom’s shop is hang; thy shrine, no truth before was not wear that it is the queen sent our lives a womankind, I embrace the pink, the trick. Ever see To see his neare ouerthrow.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #120 texts #ballad

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runawaymun · 2 years ago

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I'm so so glad to find someone who's also interested in Celebrian's torment and post-captivity life. Would you mind sharing your main headcanons about her captivity and how it affected her after her rescue?

AH HELLO!!

I'm so happy you jumped in my inbox because I, too, am very happy to find another person who's interested in Cel's post torment/captivity life! (and just Cel in general. I think she's criminally underrated).

Just because I like shorthand and continuity (even though I'm sure by your ask you've seen these):

Celebrían & food related trauma after her torment (cw: eating disorders, force-feeding, suicidal ideation)

How long it may have taken to rescue Celebrían

How many people were looking for her?

I've also done some of art for post-torment Cel, because I think I've literally only seen a few pieces depicting her after her torment, and very very very few of them depict her with any physical trauma. (cw for scars)

portrait

Elrond & Cel's reunion

Breakfast in Valinor

post-torment Elrond & Cel painting

I’ve done two fics so far that involve/mention her torment and subsequent departure. I plan to do more.

Link to the AO3 Departure of Celebrían series (just two small fics currently).

Absence is a Physical Thing (Elrond mourning Celebrían in the garden she left behind).

And now for some of my main headcannons, as requested! CW: torture, mutilation.

The Torment of Celebrían

Celebrían was not the only person of her retinue that was captured. She is just the only one that survived. This has caused a lot of survivor’s guilt for her and contributed to her depression post-torment. She had to watch these people die in horrible, unspeakable ways. She knew them personally and considered them dear friends.

The orcs took Celebrían’s index finger on her right hand, where she kept her wedding ring. I headcannon Cel as being an artist (painting and sketching, as well as weaving and sewing). This utterly destroyed her ability to hold a brush and pencil as she’s used to, which meant that she lost her art for a long time until she was able to re-teach herself (something something Maedhros parallels....). She now wears her wedding ring on the ring finger of her left hand, after the Edain custom. Elrond swapped to match.

She has a double mastectomy post-torment. The orcs took that, too, just because they could. This did not heal well and the scarring isn’t tidy.

Her hair changed color (before the orcs decided to cut it off). Pre-torment it had a semi-iridescent silver sheen. Over the months she was in captivity it greyed and began falling out. Eventually it got shorn off completely and it didn’t really grow back the same way until she sailed. It regained some of its luster in Valinor but it didn’t fully regain its silver iridescent sheen until she reunites with Elrond at the end of the Third Age.

Her hearing isn’t super great in her right ear (it got knocked around and scarred up a bit).

She incurred quite a lot of head trauma, as one tends to when getting knocked around. This resulted in short-term memory issues, migraines, and issues with reading and writing that took a long time to recover from.

She also acquired a fear of dogs (because wargs and their riders), which was incredibly distressing to find out once she reached Rivendell. She loves animals-- and has always loved her dogs. It was extremely difficult to find that they were now triggering for her. That took some time to recover from as well.

Celebrían shut off her bond with nearly everyone during her torment on purpose. Elrond and her parents and especially her children -- the line went dark, so to speak. This caused an extreme amount of panic for everyone. They feared she’d died (but absolutely refused to give up on her). Celebrían didn’t want them to be able to feel what she was going through.

She opened up her bond shortly after rescue, and then progressively closed it off again until she sailed. Elrond knew that she had, at last, truly begun to heal in Valinor when she re-opened to him fully a few years after she left Middle Earth.

Elrohir was the one to carry her out of the orc den. He was completely shell-shocked and couldn’t put her down. Elrond had to start emergency medical treatment while she was still in Elrohir’s arms and she had to be pried loose.

All of her clothes had to be re-tailored post torment due to the amount of weight and muscle mass she lost. She never fully fit back into them, even post-recovery.

She also acquired a light sensitivity from being in the orc den for so long. Traveling back to Rivendell was a kind of torture in of itself and they ended up stopping during the day so they could keep her in a cool, dark area and then traveling by night when the sun wouldn’t hurt her skin and eyes and cause crippling migraines.

She still gets migraines and now wears sunglasses when she’s outside.

Elladan made the sunglasses for her.

She had a really difficult time wearing anything without sleeves and collars for a long time, due to all of her scars and visible trauma. This changes over time when she reached Valinor, and now she kind of wears these things out of spite because she’s like “yeah stare all you want. This is my body and this is what I look like.”

She and Elrond were unable to touch much post-torment. It was easier with her kids and parents-- but she continued to be very touch starved right up until she sailed. Partially because of how much trauma and torture she endured during her captivity. Partially because she hated her body and didn’t want to be touched.

She and Elrond didn’t begin re-establishing intimacy until almost a year after they reunited in Valinor.

#out of uniform #celebrían #meta #hc #celebrian's torment #elrond #LOTR

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akingdomofswordsandstories · 4 years ago

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Unrequited

azriel (acotar) x reader

Summary: takes place during acofas, you and Azriel are mates but he doesn’t know it yet, angst, fluff, and everything in between

*Also this is my first imagine ever so I'm sorry if it sucks lol! There will be a part 2 to this, but I am still working on it!!

word count: 3927

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The winter solstice was in a few days and you weren’t sure what to get some of the inner circle. You walked briskly down the streets of the Rainbow, chilled to the bone due to the wind. You had made the dumb mistake of rushing out of the townhouse - to avoid any questions of where you were going - without taking your scarf. Your current outfit, which was a chunky knit blue sweater with leggings and boots, wasn’t enough to keep the chill away. But the cold wasn’t the most important thing on your mind. You had already bought presents for Rhys, Feyre, Amren, and Elain, but that left Cassian, Mor, and Azriel. Mor and Cass would be pretty easy to buy for, but you put it off knowing they would look through your room trying to find their solstice gift. But Azriel, that would be much harder.

Every waking hour, the shadowsinger haunted your thoughts. Something you had come to conclude was unrequited.

You had realized the mating bond between you two before he did.

It had clicked a few months ago while on a diplomatic mission. The aftermath of Hybern had left things chaotic, and if you were being honest, it still was. Rhys decided to send Cassian, Mor, Azriel, and you to travel to some of the other courts to bring back reports on the recovery after the war. However, traveling did have some dangers. While you were on your way back to Velaris from the Winter Court, your group was ambushed by a group of Hybern soldiers who had been hiding out in the mountains. Had it not been for Azriel’s wings shielding you from the initial arrows, you would’ve surely been dead, and that’s when it clicked for you. But like an idiot, you didn’t say anything.

You had thought if the bond had clicked for you, it would've clicked for Azriel too. You realized your mistake when Azriel hadn’t acknowledged any change between you two. You hoped that he would figure it out in the coming weeks, but he didn’t. You knew the same sort of situation happened with feyre and rhys so you still held out some hope. But as the months went by, and you realized the bond still hadn’t clicked for Azriel and it felt too late to tell him.

At least that was the excuse you made up. Truly, you were also afraid of the rejection that could have followed. You weren’t a fool, you knew him and Elain had some sort of connection, and that shattered your dreams even more. The possibility that he wouldn’t accept the mating bond to be with the fair skinned, doe eyed fae. Everytime Azriel was in the same room as Elain, she was the only thing he would pay attention to. During gatherings, you would plaster on a smile and act as if you were happy, but Cassian and Mor, your best friends, could sense your discomfort. They tried to ask you about it, but seeing as you would shut down anything they said, they decided not to pry too much. Amren ended up figuring out the source of your discomfort had to do with Azriel, but kept your secret until you would be ready to share it.

You came to the conclusion that distancing yourself from him would be the best option, so that's what you did.

You walked down the street till you got to one of the finest seamstresses is Velaris. Since you were an artist like Feyre, you decided to draw out a dress and have it made for Mor. The color was blood red, her signature. It was a silk slip dress that would come down to her mid-lower calf and it would be embroidered with a brilliant gold thread. You drew out a pattern of the sun, stars, and moon, which you hoped she would like. To go along with Mor’s dress, you got a jeweler to make a custom necklace and bracelet set to go with it. You designed more dainty jewelry that had gold stars with diamonds, since she was a dreamer.

You decided to design Cassian’s gift as well, creating a beautiful silver and black dagger with a moonstone on the hilt. It was a beautiful dagger, but you also made sure it was usable, because you would hate for it to go to waste. To add onto the combat theme, you also decided to buy him new fighting leathers with touches of red embroidery to match his siphons. Lastly, you bought Cassian a bottle of fae wine, which definitely wouldn't last long.

The last thing you got for all three of you was a friendship necklace. Although that sounds corny, the two of them had become such a positive force in your life and you couldn’t imagine life without them. Keeping with the celestial theme for the friendship necklaces, you bought a sun, a moon, and a star. The sun for Cassian, the moon for Mor, and the star for you. Although they are opposites in some ways, all three need each other, just like the three of you needed each other.

Now that you had gotten Mor’s and Cassian’s solstice gifts figured out, it was onto Azriel’s gift. You honestly had no clue what to get him. Due to distancing yourself, you weren’t sure if there was something that he wanted. You were positively stumped. Lucky for you though, you ended up spotting Mor in another shop a few stores down from where you were, most likely getting the rest of her solstice gifts. You decided to sneak up on her as a friendly prank. Grabbing her shoulders, you yelled in her ear, making her jump.

“Oh mother above, it’s just you, y/n! You scared the life out of me” Mor said.

“Doing some last minute shopping?” you asked. “I could ask you the same thing”. Giving her a playful smack on the arm, the corners of your mouth curled upward, even the simplest remark from her could make you smile.

The two of you were currently standing in front of a jewelry shop, looking at the collections of necklaces and earrings through the window. “Wow” you breathed out “These are all so beautiful”

“Indeed they are, although they’re quite pricey”

“How pricey is pricey?”

She whispered the amount in your ear and you stopped breathing for a second, “Holy Mother wow, that is quite the price tag. At least we can admire it from a far”, you laughed out. Even though you got a very generous salary from Rhys, you still felt guilty spending so much money on materialistic things.

After a moment you said, “Actually, since you’re here, I do need help finding a solstice gift for Azriel”, softening your voice at the end, “Any ideas?” you asked, drawing out the syllables.

“Well, I always get Azriel some cool towels, clothing, or a dagger!” Mor said. A small scoff came out of my mouth as I shook my head and raised my eyebrows. “Fine!” she exclaimed, “I may have overheard him needing a new leather sheath for Truth Teller.” grumbling towards the end. “Oh that sounds great, thank you for the help! Now let’s go off to the closest leather goods store and find a sheath!”.

“y/n! I still have shopping to do” a scowl appearing on her face. “Fine, I guess I’ll just call Cassian, cause his judgement might be better than yours, when it comes to knife related things of course” you said, baiting her.

“Ugh, I hate you y/n”

“I hate you too Mor”

“Fine, let's get going before I change my mind” she grumbled. Then we took off down the streets of the Rainbow to find a sheath.

The task was easier said than done, for you at least. Being indecisive and a major over thinker, you had looked through close to 100 sheaths, but none of them seemed good enough to hold the blade that Azriel never let anyone else touch. Except Elain.

While you were lost in your thoughts, you laid your y/c eyes on the perfect sheath. It had a bright cobalt blue stitching to match Az’s siphons. Along the tip and lining the top of the leather was a thin coat of silver plating with little sapphires embedded in the metal. You quickly snatched it up and paid a hefty price for it, but it was perfect.

“Thank god you finally picked one, it felt like we were in that store for centuries”. Mor sighed, probably a sigh of relief for getting out of the store, “But y/n, it’s perfect, I know Azriel will love it”

“Do you really think so? I just want it to be the perfect gift and I’m scared he won’t like it because what if it’s too simplistic and what if-”

“Hey! It's perfect! Don’t stress too much y/n. And for the record, I think that you’re an amazing gift giver - the amount of thought you put into gifts make it all the better.”

You could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks and mumbled a small thank you.

“Anyway while we’re here do you need to get anything to go with your solstice outfit?”

“Oh Actually, I was so stressed about getting everyone’s solstice gift that I forgot to buy my dress” your voice falling off at the end. You felt yourself being yanked to a harsh stop and the saw Mor’s face staring at yours, mouth gaping and eyes wide.

“Are you crazy?? Solstice is in 3 days and you still don’t have anything??? Oh honey, our shopping isn’t done yet.” And with that statement you found yourself being pulled into the nearest dress shop. After trying on nearly 20 dresses you finally found the perfect one, which Mor approved. It was a light blue silk dress that was more fitted at the top but flared down at your waist. It had a cowl neckline, a slit going up the side to the mid upper thigh, and accentuates your curves beautifully and has a slight shimmer to it. You looked ethereal in it

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After your exhausting day of shopping, you couldn’t wait to get out of the cold. You swiftly walked back to the townhouse. Once inside you made your way to your room to set down the gifts, change your clothes, and grab your book. Then you quietly headed down to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea and sat on the couch to read. The house was quiet since all of the others decided to go to Rita’s tonight. You decided to stay home for some much needed relaxation. You opened your book and started reading. After a few hours, you felt your eyes drooping and eventually, sleep consumed you.

The loud noise of the front door caused you to stir and your eyes fluttered open. You were too exhausted to look so you just laid your head back down and tried to go to sleep. You could hear Mor whispering something and then felt yourself being lifted off the couch and being held close to a chest with your blanket still draped on you.

“Cass?” you whispered hoarsely along with a string of incoherent words

You heard a slight laugh “Not Cass but It’s ok, go back to sleep”. Then you felt yourself being gently placed on your bed and the sleep hit you before you could mutter a thank you.

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The sun was setting towards the sea as you sat in the sitting room of the town house. You were in your blue silk dress with a glass of wine in your hand. Rhys and Feyre were by the mantel, quietly talking while Mor and Amren were across the room. Near the window I saw Elain, and from the corner of my eye I could see Azriel making his way towards her. My face fell but I quickly plastered on a smile, not wanting to concern anyone. Especially since today was also Feyre’s birthday and we had planned a surprise for her. Feyre thought she could slip her birthday past us, but we hadn’t forgotten. After a few minutes, Cassian made his way from the kitchen with the enormous cake.

You floated towards Feyre and gave her arm a light squeeze. “Happy Birthday, make a wish before the candles melt!”

She blew out the candles and then we ate cake before opening up the presents.

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Rhys snapped his fingers and piles of brightly wrapped bags and boxes filled up the sitting room. Amren was the first to open her presents. Naturally, everyone got her something jewelry related. Amren opened mine and you saw a wide smile set across her face, she picked up the diamond necklace and nodded a ‘thank you’ your way. You returned the gesture back, a small smile forming on your face.

Next, Cassian handed Mor her present from him and she pulled out a-. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. He bought her red lingerie. Your face turned slightly red, but the Mor said “Don’t let him fool you: he couldn’t think of a damn thing to get me, so he gave up and asked me outright. I gave him precise orders. For once in his life, he obeyed them.”

Then, you heard one sharp knock at the door.

Nesta.

You saw Cassian tense up a bit. Nesta walked in, linking arms with Elain. She got a glass of wine before heading to sit in a chair in the back of the room. The silence was deafening. Finally Varian started talking and the present opening resumed.

From Amren, you received a new calligraphy set. It was so beautiful and you loved it. From Rhys, you got some books. It was perfect since you loved to read, and they were ones that you had been wanting to read for a long time. From Feyre, you received a painting as well as a new paint brush kit.

Cassian made his way to you and set a gift down in your lap. You opened the dark blue box that Cassian had placed in your lap. He had gotten you a sky blue hardbound journal with a gold embossed star on it. You desperately needed a new one, and this was perfect. You walked over and gave him a hug, whispered “Thank you, I love it.”.

Next you opened Mor’s present. You nearly choked when you saw what she got you and your whole face heated up. She got you a matching navy blue lingerie set like the one Cassian bought her.

“Yeah, I wasn’t too sure what to get you so I thought we could twin”. You looked around the room and saw the others holding in their laughs. You could’ve sworn you saw a tinge of red on Azriel’s ears. You just smiled and mouthed a silent “I’m going to kill you, but thank you” at her.

There wasn’t anything from Azriel. Your heart twinged. Had you not been important enough? It was just a present you reminded yourself, fixing your composure before handing Cassian his present.

He ripped it open like an animal, squealing when he saw it. A promising reaction given the amount of thought you put into it.

“Did you design these? They look amazing!”

“Yeah, I’m glad you like it. It took a long time to figure out what to get for your dumb ass”

“You mean my cute ass”, you smacked his arm and then got up to give Mor her present.

You closely watched her reaction as she opened her dress and jewelry, a large smile spreading across her face.

“You really buy the perfect presents y/n, I love it”.

“Oh Cass, Mor. One more thing.” You pulled out the small boxes with the friendship necklaces and bracelets handing it to them. “This was just a little something extra I thought of, I hope you like it”. You knew you would have started stuttering and crying if you had said the meaning to them, so you just handed them notes instead. They read over them, eyes glossing over, and pulled you into a hug.

“This is the only time I’ll wear jewelry” Cass stated, causing you to chuckle

Then Mor said, “I am never taking this off” causing you to laugh again.

Finally, Azriel opened up his presents. He had opened up all the others. All that was left was yours and Elain’s gift to him. He found his way to your present first, opening it.

“A new sheath for Truth Teller. I heard you needed a new one” you quietly said.

He held your gaze and smiled, “Thank you, it's great”. Suddenly feeling exposed, you quickly gave him a nod.

Then he went to open Elain’s gift. “It’s a powder to mix in with any drink.” she said.

Silence.

Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

Silence again.

Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed.

You hadn’t heard him laugh before, and mother above it was gorgeous. You had never heard a sound so deep and joyous, a sound which made your heart clench. A part of you wished you were the reason he was laughing. You forced on a smile and spent the rest of the night drinking away the slight pain in your chest.

You were exhausted by the end of the night, sitting on the couch with Cassian and Mor, Azriel and Rhys seated on the opposite side of you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement towards the door, and craned your head to see what was going on. It was Nesta making her way to the door. You felt the couch lift next to you.

Cassian. He had swiftly pushed past Feyre and went after Nesta. This wouldn’t end well.

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Cassian had come back quiet and brooding, walking straight to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of liquor. You got up off the couch and followed him straight into the kitchen.

“Cass, let’s take a walk, yeah?”

“I just took a walk”

“It wasn’t a question”. You grabbed a white shawl and his hand and led him outside. “What happened?”

“What’s there to talk about? It was like all the other times. Why did I have to fall in love with someone who doesn't even love me back. Who looks at me like the Illyrian born bastard I am. Who hates the idea of being in the same room as me.”

You grabbed Cass’ hand, lightly squeezing it. “Don’t say that. Nesta, she,” your voice stopping for a second “She’s different. The way she handles pain and copes is different. Give her time. She just needs time. I know how much that may pain you, but you can’t rush healing”

You pulled him into a hug

“And for the record, I know the feeling more than you know” you quietly said “unrequited love”, head pointed at the ground.

Cassian tilted his head down to look at you, his face painted with confusion. You could tell he wanted to know more, but didn’t want to pry too much.

You hesitated before continuing, not sure if you wanted to reveal your closely guarded secret. “I-“ your voice faltering, “I found my mate”. The words seemed to have rushed out of your mouth and tears pricked your eyes as you said that. After months of hiding it, you had finally gotten it off your chest.

Cassian stood shocked, staring at you. “You found your mate? And you didn’t think to tell any of us? How long ago was this”

“I-, I found out who he was around the same time Rhys sent us on that diplomatic mission. And I didn’t tell anyone because he doesn’t even know yet.”

“That was almost 6 months ago, and you didn’t say anything?”.

The tears had started flowing at this point, “I thought he would figure it out. But by the time I realized he wasn’t going to figure it out, it was too late. He had already set his eyes on someone else. And I know I could never compete with Elain, even if I am his mate.” the last part slipped out without you realizing.

“Elain? What does she-“ his eyes widening “Does that mean Az is-“

You slowly nodded, tears welled up, threatening to spill out.

“Oh, mother…”, he pulled you into a tighter hug and that’s when the gates broke. You couldn’t hold back your tears as you sobbed into Cassian's chest, his hand stroking your back.

you must have been there for 15 minutes before you realized the other might start getting suspicious. Regaining your composure, you dried your tears and tried, to the best of your ability, to hide that you had been crying.

Looking back at Cassian, you gave him a slight smile before muttering, “Thank you. I’m sorry for dumping that on you, but please promise me you won’t tell anyone. Please.”

“Of course y/n, and don’t apologize, if it makes you feel better, it helped to take my mind off of Nesta and my own problems, which I desperately needed” he chuckled out.

With the smile still on your face, you linked arms with Cassian before saying, “Oh mother above it’s freezing, let’s get back inside before we turn into popsicles!”

He let out another laugh before the two of you made your way back into the house.

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

You walked into the house and your sliver of happiness was crushed as you saw Az and Elain sitting at the table smiling and laughing quietly to themselves. Elain had her sketchbook out, showing Az her plans for the garden.

Your distraught had been clear to anyone who saw your face, and you were too tired to realize you weren’t able to hide it fast enough. Not being able to view the scene anymore, you quickly got up, muttered happy solstice, and grabbed your coat and purse before heading out the door to your apartment.

While walking home, you were consumed by your thoughts. You hated the pangs of jealousy that coursed through you. You often found yourself jealous of her soft spokenness and kindness. You also found yourself jealous of her effortless beauty. It was something that kept you up at night. She was so likeable and easily approachable, something you wished you were.

You were so drowned in your own thoughts that you hadn’t noticed a male following you till it was too late. One of his hands clamped on your mouth while the other grabbed your waist and pushed you into the nearest alleyway.

The male pulled out a knife and your tears started to fall. You were terrified about what he would do to you. This could be the last time you would have seen your family. You were struggling and kicking against him but it was no use. Your senses were groggy from the alcohol and drowsiness.

You had been so stupid to walk home alone at 2 in the morning. No matter how angry you were, you should’ve just stayed at the town house.

Before you could realize what was happening, you felt a sharp pain shoot through your side.

The sound of a clatter.

Receding footsteps.

A crimson stain blooming.

Your body crumpled to the ground and your vision started blacked out. This was it. Nobody could hear you and nobody could save you.

#azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar #azriel #cassian #imagine #sarah j maas #azriel acotar x reader

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years ago

Text

While You Sleep

Chapter 11

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: nothing (i think?) Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

a/n: hi all please be patient I am having some writers block/lack of motivation lately for writing so this series may be a bit on a pause (hopefully not) but I am working to get out more drabbles to maybe just get some inspo or something!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Waking up in Bucky’s arms felt just too good to be true. You were sure it was a dream, a nice, new dream Fate had blessed you with, but when Bucky shifted beside you and you felt every sensation, you knew you were truly awake.

It also helped tremendously that you had a pleasant dream about him. It feels like centuries since you were shaken awake by the actions of The Winter Soldier. You couldn’t even consider any of it the actions of him next to you, feeling like the person in your dreams was and wasn’t the man in this bed. Everything felt like it intertwined dangerously, vines running through your mind. But, truthfully, you didn’t wanna think too much about it. You were finally getting your chance at the real soulmate experience, dates and dreams and all, and that was too priceless to spend time dwelling over much else.

Bucky awoke slowly, his normally rough eyes met yours in the softest manner. You two were tangled comfortably, still in most of last night's clothing, minus your panties and Bucky’s sweater which he must’ve ditched in the middle of the night. But none of that bothered you for a second. You were just too glad to be in this bed with your soulmate, cocooned lovingly in the sheets.

Bucky’s hoarse morning voice broke the silence, “Good morning.”

You smirked. “Good morning.” You shifted on your side and Bucky removed his arm from your waist, letting you get comfortable. The other arm around your shoulder stayed put. Quite surprisingly, it was his metal one. You could see Bucky’s torso completely now, the light from the sun hitting him in just the right way. Your eyes traveled from his arm to his shoulder, looking curiously. He was a fascinating phenomenon that you couldn’t believe was yours.

Thankfully, Bucky didn’t shiver away at the interest you were taking again in his arm and instead, indulged in your curiosity. “What’s going on in that pretty brain of yours?”

Your eyes snapped back to Bucky’s face. Your cheeks heated up from the question, feeling like you were caught doing something wrong. But Bucky didn’t look at all upset. Slowly, your eyes drifted back down and your hand came up to caress the base of his neck, just barely skimming his shoulder. He shuddered under the feeling.

“Does it… Does it hurt or anything?” You asked, suddenly feeling very stupid the second the words left your mouth. You bit your lip, trying to find the words to peddle back, but Bucky didn’t seem very bothered by it.

“No,” he shook his head. “I guess I don’t think much about it now. It’s just part of me. Obviously.”

You nodded, still letting your hand trace invisible patterns on his skin. “And you use it to fight bad guys?”

Bucky chuckled. “You’re still on that, huh?” You smirked and shrugged, wordlessly asking him to continue. “I�� I help where I can. Don’t think it’s much to get excited about it but I like to think I have a hand in making the world better. It’s the least I could do since…” His words trailed off, leaving a kind of heaviness in the conversation. Bucky’s eyes lost their softness. They were beginning to water up but before any tear could escape, he spoke again. “You know, I actually am glad you brought this up. I have a mission soon.”

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

He nodded and sat up in the bed, untangling you two. You followed his motions, gripping the blanket to you as you now sat side-by-side.

“Should just be for a day or so. Mainly just gathering intel, nothing really crazy from the looks of it, but I still wanted to let you know.”

“W-When?”

“Tomorrow.”

Your jaw went slack. “You have a mission to leave for tomorrow and I’m just now hearing about it?”

Despite your rising anger, you let Bucky take your hand in his. He rubbed soft circles on your skin. “Doll, I promise, I didn’t know about it until yesterday morning.”

“Were you going to tell me?” You were a bit surprised by how softly your words came out, just barely making it above a whisper. Your heart was pounding loudly in your ears, worry and uncertainty course through you. You didn’t know what these missions could really entail. Could they really just be intel gathering? What if stuff goes wrong? Stuff goes wrong all the time, right? Your head was swimming and all you really knew was that you were losing your soulmate for a bit. Sure, you had gone your entire life without him (and he went without you much longer) but now you two were connected. It was practically set in stone. The situation had changed drastically and now he was leaving to do God knows what…

Bucky let out a sigh, the noise forcing you out of your worried thoughts. He spoke gently as if sensing the uneasiness within you, “Yes, I planned to, doll, I just didn’t know how to bring it up. When you asked about my job again, I just jumped on the opportunity, okay? I swear, I wasn’t going to just disappear.”

You wrapped your arm around his, leaning closer to rest your head in the crook of his neck. He shifted to welcome the touch.

“You can’t disappear,” you whispered. “After what happened that night on the phone…” It flashed back. The dial tone in your ear, the thought of Bucky gone in the night. You didn’t want to remember those feelings, really. “You gotta promise me you’re going to be safe.”

Bucky let out a soft chuckle and you possibly would’ve found it comical, it was actually quite funny asking an ex-assassin to be safe, but thanks to the bond, there wasn’t anything funny about anything. You couldn’t imagine even having to put a bandaid on him.

“I’ll be safe, doll,” he said. “Try not to worry.”

You scoffed. “Impossible.”

A moment passed before Bucky reached to cup the side of your face. Instinctively, you brought your face up to meet his. His expression as he stared back with a true whirlwind of emotions. Sadness, appreciation, love… But he didn’t express anything outwardly, and instead just placed his lips on yours. His body pressed into you as the kiss deepened, slowly pushing you back to the bed. You two fell back once again into the entanglement of one another.

***

“You’re going to be okay, right?”

“Yes, sweetheart, I’ll be fine.”

You tried giving an understanding nod but still, all you felt was worry as you and Bucky stood outside your apartment building saying your goodbyes. It was early and he had made sure to stop by before you had to leave for work. You thought you two had said your goodbyes in more ways than one yesterday but he wasn’t leaving so easily and you were secretly glad.

“I’m just making sure,” you sighed and reached to grab his hand. He accepted, intertwining your fingers.

“I know,” he nodded. “Are you going to be okay?”

You raised your brows. “Me?” You let out a small laugh. “I’m not the one going on a mission to do who knows what in God knows where.”

Bucky shook his head, a small smirk on his lips. “No, but I still have to make sure you’re safe here.”

“Bucky, I’ve spent a lot of time alone. I’m going to be just fine.”

Bucky’s expression morphed into something unsettling. He looked quite distressed at your comment, which you hadn’t truly expected, but hearing it out loud, you wanted to cringe at the statement. It was probably the most uncomfortable reminder but Bucky didn’t mention anything about it.

“I’m just making sure.” He repeated your words as a teasing remark, making you let out a small sigh of relief.

In a quick last-minute move, you pulled him closer to place a loving kiss on his lips. He smiled into it as his other hand came up to caress your cheek. Warmth raced through you as he broke the kiss.

“Have a good day at work, doll.”

“Have a good mission, Buck.”

***

You thanked your lucky stars that work today was ridiculously slow. It was almost the weekend but the usual rush of morning folks had dwindled pretty fast. Truly, though, this was a best-case scenario in your eyes because in between the fleeting customers and out of the watchful gaze of your boss, you took time to send Bucky some texts. While, yes, you knew he hated texting (who could blame him with the T9 keyboard he was working with) but you still thought they would be nice for him to read.

I’m sure you’re high off in the sky getting briefed on your task but I wanted to wish you luck. You hit send with a goofy grin feeling a bit silly and a bit… concerned. Your worry for Bucky hadn’t stopped and you knew most likely it was consequences of being separated from your soulmate but you wished the gnawing at your soul would quit it. Still, though, a part of you felt giddy being able to send him cute little things while he was gone.

Your coworker took notice of your behavior quite quickly. As she came around the counter restocking the syrups, she asked, “What’s got you all lovestruck?”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress your smile. “Bucky’s gone for a bit and I was just sending him a little love note.”

Your coworker chuckled. “A love note. Oh, how far you two have come.” With that sentiment, she went back to her restocking, leaving you to stare at your phone. You nodded to yourself realizing, yeah, you and Bucky had come far. You didn’t know if all relationships hit the gas pedal but there had always been an urgency with you even before ever looking at Bucky. You had wanted this for a while, always unsure if you would get it thanks to what the nightmares showed, but now it was real. It was as Bucky said, if it felt right to you two, then it must be.

Thinking of you. You sent off another little message before sliding your phone back into your pocket. You waited the rest of your shift but never received anything back, not that you really expected it, though. You figured if he had time to call, he was going to wait for that opportunity.

Eventually, the clock hit quitting time and you exited the coffee shop, waving a brief goodbye to your coworker. Standing on the sidewalk, you half expected to maybe see Bucky eager to walk you home or take you to dinner but the street was gravely empty. You shook off the unusual thought and began your journey home.

It was a fairly quiet night and you were thankful for that. It gave you a chance to just be with yourself for a second after a whirlwind of days and nights with Bucky by your side. Maybe this distance would be good, you thought. The distance creates a need and your reunion would be unlike anything you had ever felt before. You blushed at the thought.

You made your way into your apartment building and up the stairs. Unlocking your door, you threw down your items and began getting ready for bed. The softness of it was just begging for you. While you would’ve loved to be back in Bucky’s, you were dying for a bit of sleep to maybe ease your hyperactive thoughts of your soulmate and his mission.

After taking off your make-up and getting on your pajamas, you crawled under the covers. Sleep hit you almost immediately, a new occurrence you were getting used to. You never really recalled a time when you were welcoming sleep with open arms.

But maybe you were counting your blessings too soon. Tonight ended up not being how it had been for the past few days. The nightmares came back in a sudden rush, way too fast for you to even think about what the hell was going on. You felt so lost, being pushed so many steps back in your progress, as scenes of fighting and guns blazing flashed in and out without any warning. The emotions came back as well. Need and anger were swelling in your heart as you fought and fought within the nightmares. Everything began feeling…so real. The nightmares felt strong as your body felt it had a mind of its own, tossing around your bed in panic as your brain filled with the images and… yells?

You were shaking now. You didn’t remember hearing sounds in your nightmares before but everything can be suppressed if you’re traumatized enough, you figured. But there was just something within you that didn’t feel right. Granted, nothing was right about the nightmares but this was different… these sounds felt real and sudden… Your brain was screaming. What the...

Something cold hit your back. At first, you had thought your blanket fell off but when you went to grab it, you found your hands were bound together. Real panic, nothing of the dream kind, raced through you. Your eyes bolted open.

You didn't find your blanket because it wasn’t there. You weren’t in your bed. Hell, you weren’t even in your apartment. You were alone, shoved into a dark cell, your back pressed against a cold, metal wall. The panic was settling in but you couldn’t find the strength to react besides staring around frantically in the dark. You couldn’t make out anything, barely able to even see your own body. It was deadly silent.

You began praying to whatever was out there that this was just a dream, that you just really couldn't wake up, you had only thought you woke up. But that just wasn’t the case and a sad part of you really knew it. Nightmares suddenly weren’t just reserved for bedtime.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #the winter soldier #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel #mcu #mcu fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #avengers #soulmate au #fluff #angst

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primalsouls · 4 years ago

Text

white rabbit pt 5

langa hasegawa x gn! reader ( pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - pt 4)

anon: ⬇️

⚠️ : none.... I think? please let me know if there's anything to trigger!

theme: general

note: and scene. *bows* lol anyway, the fin to the white rabbit 🤧 thank you all for all the love you gave towards to white rabbit! i really appreciate it very much and it means a lot to me, really! 💖🥰 but like many great series, this one came to an end. it leaves an empty hole in my heart. 💔 but fr, really thank you. :) for all the love and support. i cant get it out enough. it just makes me happy how many people loved this work. ❤

like always, thank you for reading, i hope you enjoy it and like it, let me know what you think. and sorry for any mistakes, no proofread lmao. love you! 💚🫂

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

A family would always be part of one's life. But does it had to be consistent of related blood? Or could it be just a person and their pet? Perhaps it could be a group of friends? Perhaps.

When family comes to mind, [Y/N] would be reminded of their father's neglect on them. Of a mother who abandoned them. Of their older brother wishing to do nothing with them but just get them out of the family. Of aunts who showed their "love" for them in a horrid way.

But now, when family comes to mind, they were reminded of a man and his adorable pet with pointy ears. Of a redhead who talks non-stop of skateboarding and his way of woodworking. Of a young boy who had a talent for talking to cats. Of a florist man who was a clown at night. Of an amazing chef and his good looks. Of a elegant man who had a love for his AI. And finally, of a young blue-haired boy who was silent yet talktive at the same time.

Who would had thought they would find another family that quick. It took time to open up, yes, but at a steady pace like they were learning skating once again was all they needed to build up trust and care for these people.

And even though they were banned from S, [Y/N] was not ban from skating and Langa made sure to bring that point to them. He thought they hated skating because of him but all they needed was a little time off before getting back on the board. Reki built them a customized skateboard that fitted their aesthetics. A street board decorated in black on top and white on bottom with red wheels. A cute white rabbit's head and its red eyes painted on the bottom largely like Langa's abominable snowman. Langa had asked Reki to make it and Reki didn't refuse. It was a surprise gift for [Y/N], Langa told him.

Ever since their friendship with Langa started on that day after weeks of leaving S, Langa stood by their side. He kept his promise. He never hurt them. If anything, his love for them grew. They went to the same school now. They ate lunch with the boys in the roof top. They skated together at the boys' usual hangout. And being kicked out of their old home, Reki's mother was happy to let them stayed until they earn enough money from working for Dope Sketch to live on their own place. It felt nice. The new changes. The environment was different from their old life with the Shindo Family. It was welcoming and lovely. No sense if hatred send towards their way. They liked it.

"Good morning, Reki and [N/N]!" Langa said, smiling a little when he saw Reki and [Y/N] skated down the sidewalk to the pole where Langa stood. Reki grinned and greeted his best friend, high-fiving each other.

"Morning, Langa!" Reki said brightly, getting off his skateboard. When [Y/N] catched up, Langa walked up to them.

"Mornin'..." [Y/N] greeted softly. They still weren't used to the presence of Langa and Reki and their personalities despite being friends with them for a few months now. They never had friends before. Kids they met during their childhood bullied them. Their brother never wanted to do anything with them, so a brotherly bond was never formed. Well, maybe they did had one friend and it was Tadashi. Like Ainosuke, he taught [Y/N] how to skate. But unlike their brother, they never made the effort to go up to Tadashi to spend time with him. They were younger, too. Too little to play with the older boys.

"Hey, earth to [N/N]~? Anyone home?" Reki waved a hand in front of their face, wincing when it was smacked away. "Ow! Langa's right, you do slap hard." The redhead complained, rubbing his hand as back away from the other. [Y/N] pouted as they glared playfully at Reki.

"Sorry... I was just... thinking, that's all." The [h/c]nette muttered as they looked down at the board steadied by their foot on top of it. Langa tilted his head.

"What were you thinking about?" His silk voice calmed them down whenever they heard it. It was soothing to their ears. It was one of the things they liked about Langa, along with many other quirks of his. Such as his baby blue eyes. They loved staring into them. They liked to run their hands through his soft, blue hair whenever they hangout on the couch, leaning against each other.

It was funny. How they instantly click. Already finding comfort in each other. A few months ago, [Y/N] hated Langa. Refusing to hangout with him. Skate with him. Talk to him. But little by little, Langa took his time with them and broke down their walls, leaving each space for them to feel comfortable with his presence. It was the one thing that made them fall for him. Whenever he smile, their heart beat against their chest like butterflies were inside. They had this tingling feeling in their stomach whenever Langa look at them. They liked this feeling. It was an unfamiliar one but they could get use to it.

"[Y/N]..." There it was again. Their name rolled out of his tongue. It meant for him to say their name.

"Ah, yeah... Um.... I was just thinking," [Y/N] cleared their throat, eyes looking down at the ground as they tried to hide their flushed face. "if we're gonna skate? Try for any new tricks?" They shrugged, glancing back up at the two friends quickly. Reki nodded with a grin.

"Of course, we're gonna! Langa still gotta nail that one trick of yours." Reki teased, nudging the other boy on the torso as he looked up at him. Langa pouted, earning a laugh from Reki.

"It's a hard trick," Langa started but closed his hands into a fists with a determined expression on his face and locked his eyes with [Y/N]. "But I'll try my best to achieve it, [N/N]."

A soft laugh caught the two boys off guard. They stared at [Y/N] with slightly wide eyes. They hardly hear them laugh, so it was a first time since they became friends that the duo heard [Y/N] laugh. And Langa loved it. Such as much as he loved every little thing about them. It brought a gentle smile to his face.

Their eyes locked once more. Both staring at each other with admiration.

"I can't wait then. Let's see you try to nail the White Rabbit's ticking curve trick." [Y/N] said. Reki chuckled, already getting a head start to the direction to the usual skating hangout. Langa turned to them, a hand held out. And without another word, [Y/N] took his hand in theirs.

No words were needed to exchange for the looks they gave each other were enough. Actions says more than words. And skating down the road, hand in hand, was enough for Langa to know they wanted to stay with him such as much as he wanted to stay with them.

The phrase to skate together with you didn't just apply to his friendship with Reki, but also applied to his new found relationship with [Y/N].

In the end, he caught the white rabbit and left the thorns filled hole of theirs, not bother one bit about the minor cuts he occurred. All he cared about was the white rabbit, who rested safely in his arms and shower by the love they had wished for.

A love they both could see growing as days went by.

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lettheladylead · 4 years ago

Text

Not Your Aunt

Chapter 3: Gladstone [ao3 link]

It’d been a year since Scrooge started regularly babysitting his niece and nephew. Goldie had only had the misfortune of interacting with them a handful of times, though one of those handfuls was a week-long bedridden visit where they asked too many questions and got way too attached to her. So before leaving, she stole from their piggy banks to teach them an important lesson: Goldie O’Gilt is not their family and she’s certainly not their aunt.

The next time she visited after that, the kids seemed properly sour and uninterested in her, so clearly they got the message. Or they just had a bad day. Either way, she could focus on Scrooge and treasure and then move on with her plans. She was able to visit without interacting with children a good half a dozen times after that, which really made her days go faster. It was nice.

She was stopping by in early February to grab some items she’d left behind (for safekeeping, of course) when Goldie learned that Scrooge’s family was continuing to...expand. There were now twice as many children in the mansion and the two new kids were apparently not deterred by Donald and Della’s attempts to warn them about their uncle’s thieving ex.

The kid in green found her in the foyer and lifted up his sunglasses to wink at her. “Well hello there!”

She blinked down at him. “...hello.”

He shuffled closer and stuck out his tiny little hand. “Gladstone Gander! And you are…?”

Goldie pinched his hand between two fingers and gave it a single shake before letting go. She didn’t appreciate the tone she was getting from this child who couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve. “You can call me Miss O’Gilt.”

Gladstone pouted at her response and then shrugged before putting the sunglasses back. “Suit yourself. I’m a real catch!”

“I’m sure,” Goldie groaned. “Where’s Scrooge? I need to talk to him.”

The kid pointed towards the stairs. “Uncle Scrooge is in his office, I think.”

“Uncle?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Did Hortense have another kid or...are you Matilda’s?” The concept of Matilda having a child had Goldie immediately confused. She was pretty sure she knew that woman’s goals and motherhood was never on her list. They’d bonded over the lack of interest once in the past.

“Huh?” Gladstone tilted his head. “No, Auntie Hortense is married to Uncle Quackmore, who’s my mom’s brother. Who’s Matilda?”

Goldie closed her eyes and put two fingers to her temple as she felt a headache forming. She supposed if they stretched the definition enough, then Scrooge could be literally anyone’s uncle even if they had some gigantic distant relation to him. It was kind of annoying. “I guess she’s...also your aunt. You’ll probably meet her someday.” With that, Goldie turned around and started towards the stairs.

The kid followed her and she resisted the urge to punt him into another room. “So you know Uncle Scrooge and Auntie Hortense? Are you Uncle Scrooge’s secret wife?”

“No.” She didn’t even give him a glance as she headed up the stairs.

“Does that mean you’re single?” he asked with a toothy grin.

Goldie looked down at him again and then rolled her eyes. “You’re a bit young to be at this level of annoying.”

“Annoying?” Gladstone put a shocked hand to his chest and frowned. “You must be unlucky like Donald and Della. Only unlucky people call me annoying!”

Alright, that was a curious enough statement to make Goldie pause and lean against the banister. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gladstone walked up another few steps so his head was about the same height as her’s. “I’m the luckiest goose in the world! Even luckier than my mom!”

Goldie quirked an eyebrow. “Luckiest in the world, huh? How would you know that?”

“I know that ‘cause...I’m Gladstone Gander!” He did a little spin and stuck his hands into his pockets before pulling out a dozen twenty dollar bills. “I found all of these just on my walk earlier!”

She stared at the money and, on reflex, plucked a few out of his hands. He didn’t even react as she pocketed them. “That’s pretty normal when you’re walking around Scrooge McDuck’s mansion, kid.”

He reached into his pockets again and pulled out another dozen bills. “No, no, these aren’t from Uncle Scrooge! I got these while walking around town!”

That caught her attention a bit more. Goldie pocketed a few more of the twenties before putting a hand against the bottom of her beak. “That does sound particularly lucky.”

He gave her a thumbs up, clearly happy that he’d convinced her of his gift, and Goldie thought about her plans for the weekend. She’d intended on grabbing a pair of earrings she’d left in Scrooge’s dresser and a mystical gem-finder he’d locked up in his Other Bin before heading to Macaw, but...perhaps she could use a partner. Well, more like a sidekick. Or a mascot.

“How would you like to go on a trip and really put your luck to the test?”

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

Despite him being a very, very annoying little kid, Goldie had to admit that bringing him along was worth the frustrations.

She’d never done this well at the Galaxy Macaw, especially not at the slot machines. She could cheat her way through any old card game, but playing with other people brought too much attention to her presence. And the owner would be very unhappy if he saw she’d returned after what happened last time.

Her disguise wasn’t particularly artful - just a short black wig and green-tinted sunglasses - but it was enough to keep security from noticing her striking blonde amongst the sea of dark-haired birds around them. Gladstone managed to win a new little outfit for himself within a few minutes of entering the casino, and Goldie was happy that no one questioned the child’s presence. After a few wins at the slot machines, earning herself and her little partner a significant bit of cash, Goldie let the kid wander off on his own and started casing the place, getting ready for the actual reason for her travels.

“Miss O’Gilt?” Gladstone asked as he reappeared, tugging at her hand to get her attention.

“I told you not to use my last name here,” she hissed in response, glancing around to make sure no one overheard.

“Oh, right!” He tapped a finger against his chin. “So, then...Aunt Goldie, why exactly are we here? Not that I’m not having fun, but…this all seems kind of random.”

She held back a growl at the name - why did these kids always lean into the “aunt” moniker first? - and plopped her hand on top of his head. “Don’t worry about it. You should just keep having fun while I cash out and take care of some business.”

He shrugged. “Alright, but I bet I could help you with whatever you’re really here for! Uncle Scrooge never lets me help him find stuff ‘cause he says it’s cheating, but this is just how I live, y’know?”

Goldie removed her hand from his head and laid it on her hip. “I appreciate the offer, but this is something I need to take care of alone.” She glanced around the room and paused at the sight of a line of phone booths. “If I’m not back in a half hour, call your uncle to pick you up, alright?”

Gladstone followed her line of sight, then turned back to look up at her. “Are you doing something dangerous?”

“Hopefully not, but you never know.”

The kid pouted and leaned back on his heels. “...are you sure I can’t come with?”

Goldie crossed her arms over her chest. “Just stay here,” she said sternly, and quickly disappeared before Gladstone could follow.

He frowned and looked around himself. He knew nothing bad would happen to him, but it was still weird for an adult to leave him alone in a place so filled with strangers. Goldie was certainly unlike any other adults he’d spent time with, and he wasn’t at all surprised that Donald and Della had such conflicting feelings about her.

That being said, he could see a snack stand not too far away, so he rushed over to grab some pretzels. As soon as he arrived, the man running the stand gave him a big toothy smile, said he was the one thousandth customer of the day, and then handed him a giant pretzel for free.

It was nice being Gladstone Gander.

As he chomped away, a big banner above some of the slot machines caught his attention. In bright, bold letters he saw the words THE MACAW RUBY and more information about it being some rare, potentially mystical artifact that would be on display starting at 5 o’clock sharp.

He thought about that for a moment. From what he knew about Goldie, which wasn’t much but he’d understood the gist of it, she liked to steal things. Really cool, expensive, fancy things. He didn’t have to be a genius to put two and two together and realize she was after that ruby.

Whether or not she wanted his help, Gladstone decided he was going to be a part of this. After all, maybe the ruby would just come into his possession thanks to his luck! No one would need to steal anything, it would simply belong to him. And then he could give it to her and she’d give him a hug as thanks and who wouldn’t want that?

By the time he arrived at the place where the ruby was going to be displayed, it was only a few minutes to five and Gladstone took note of the extremely heavy security detail in front of the curtain. If Goldie hadn’t already gotten the ruby, there was no way she was going to get past all of them.

So he walked up to one of the guards and locked his hands behind his back. “Hi there!”

The guard looked down at him and didn’t respond.

“I’m Gladstone!”

Still no response.

Gladstone pouted, but he was pretty sure he could charm this guy into showing him the gem. “Can I see the fancy ruby?”

The guard made a face at him before turning to look at another guard and then proceeded to speak in a language that Gladstone didn’t recognize. He realized after a moment that it was probably Mandarin, which would make a lot of sense, considering where they were.

The other guard walked over and grabbed Gladstone by the back of his shirt, holding him up in front of his face. “Where’re your parents, kid? You shouldn’t be walking around here by yourself,” he said in a rough, heavy accent.

Gladstone frowned and crossed his arms. “I’m no kid! I’m just really short for my age! And I’ve won, like, fifty thousand dollars today, so you can’t tell me what to do!”

The guard frowned and his grip on Gladstone’s shirt tightened. “What’d you just say to me? I’m not in the mood for some brat and his-”

“Excuse me, sir,” a new voice called out.

All three boys looked over to see Goldie standing there, arms crossed and looking certainly unhappy, and with a purse over her shoulder that Gladstone didn’t remember being there when they’d arrived at the casino.

“That’s my nephew you’re manhandling, you oversized hog,” Goldie growled, reaching out and grabbing Gladstone so she could properly plop him down next to her. “You treat all your guests like this?”

The guard stood up straight and glared at her, pointing angrily towards Gladstone. “You might wanna teach your kid some manners, lady! He won’t be so lucky next time he pisses me off.”

“I’m sure that’s very difficult to do,” Goldie said with an eyeroll. “Come on, Gladdy, it’s time for us to go.”

Gladstone just nodded and took her hand. As they were leaving, a bunch of rich-looking snobs were walking in the opposite direction, probably excited to see the fancy gemstone that was about to be unveiled. He was pretty sure Goldie had already taken it and it was sitting in her bag right by his face. Though he wondered if she replaced it with a fake or if things were about to go crazy in this casino.

A moment later and Gladstone turned his head at the sound of an announcer and some clapping and a stunned silence and then an audience-wide gasp. Goldie clutched his hand a little tighter at the sound of the gasp and he noticed she’d picked up a tiny bit of speed.

With her walking faster, he fell behind her and looked up to see a shocking and unfortunate sight: a few strands of long blonde hair had fallen out from under her wig and were completely visible to anyone who could see her back. He opened his mouth to say something when he was cut off by the loudest scream he’d ever heard from someone that wasn’t Donald.

“IT’S GOLDIE O’GILT! GET HER BEFORE SHE GETS AWAY!”

Suddenly Gladstone was picked up and being held in Goldie’s arms as she quickly exited the building and ran towards the nearest available taxi. He didn’t even have a second to breathe before she had the driver heading towards the airport as fast as he could go.

She tore off the wig and sunglasses and shoved them into her bag, which Gladstone noticed didn’t seem to get any bigger as she did. He looked into it and saw what seemed to be some sort of endless vortex. Neat!

Goldie laughed and patted his head. “Good job out there, kid. That was fun,” she said as she reached into the bag and pulled out another wig - this time it was brown and wavy. It seemed she was prepared for the possibility that someone might try following her.

“Thanks, Aunt Goldie,” he responded with a smirk, remembering how much that name annoyed her earlier. “So where’s my cut of the profits?”

She raised an eyebrow at him and clearly looked like she was about to laugh at his question. “Why don’t we focus on getting you home before we talk about that?”

Gladstone put a hand to his chin in thought. Really, money wasn’t an issue for him. He found money all the time, and even when he didn’t, his parents had plenty of money of their own. But he did feel like Goldie owed him for all his help. “Okay, sure.”

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

First their taxi driver gave them a free ride because he was in such a good mood, then their plane tickets ended up being free thanks to a clerical error, and they were given a free ride from the airport to Scrooge’s mansion because who the hell could keep track of all the reasons why things were free? Goldie was certainly enjoying the perks of carrying around Scrooge’s little luck magnet. If she didn’t have places to be, she’d stop by his office and yell at him for not telling her about the kid sooner.

That being said, he was starting to get a little too attached and it was bugging the hell out of her.

“So when are you gonna visit again? We could go to another casino!” Gladstone said excitedly, bouncing in his seat. “Or some other place you’d need my luck for. An underground poker game, maybe?”

Goldie chuckled and leaned back, recognizing the area the taxi turned into as only a few blocks from Scrooge’s place. “Look, kid -”

“Gladstone!”

“...right. Gladstone. This has been lots of fun, but you shouldn’t get confused. I’m not a part of your family, I’m not gonna just stop by and visit and take you on trips all the time. I just conveniently already had plans to go somewhere where I’d benefit from some luck.”

He frowned. “So this is it? You’re just done with me now?”

“Well…” She shrugged. “I don’t like to limit myself. Who knows what the future will hold? I just wouldn’t get your hopes up or plan for me coming back anytime soon.”

Gladstone pouted again and let out a quiet hmph! before turning to look out the window. They’d arrived at the front gate of Uncle Scrooge’s house and he’d decided he was just about ready to leave.

They came to a stop and Gladstone quickly opened up the door and stepped outside, stretching dramatically and yawning. He turned to say something to Goldie when he was cut off by a loud, familiar screech.

“THERE HE IS!”

Gladstone turned to see Donald and Uncle Scrooge running towards him from down the sidewalk. He was very confused to see that they’d gone for a walk instead of hanging around the house, since they never wanted to go for walks when he was in the mood.

“Hi, Uncle Scrooge-”

Scrooge ran over and swept Gladstone up in a giant hug. “We’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you, lad! Where’ve you been? What did you…” Scrooge’s words faded out as he noticed the familiar smirk staring at him from the inside of a taxi.

“Hey there, hun.”

“G-Goldie?!” Scrooge looked at her and then down at Gladstone and then back up at her. “Did you take him?!”

“Sure did,” she responded with a shrug. “I left you a note in your office. You should really pay more attention to these things.”

Donald just watched this conversation with a frown. He wanted to assume that Aunt Goldie was lying about leaving a note, but he also knew that Uncle Scrooge definitely didn’t check and just assumed the worst when they couldn’t find Gladstone all day. He’d been screaming about how Daphne was going to kill him for losing her son, but it seems he didn’t lose anyone at all.

Scrooge sputtered angrily at Goldie, holding Gladstone against his legs and trying to find his words. “You-! You...you kidnapped him!”

“I did no such thing, you old miser. He wanted to come along,” Goldie said, glaring angrily. She turned towards her cabby and said something that the boys couldn’t hear, then the car started to drive away.

Scrooge glared right back until Gladstone, a few moments later, shook himself out of Scrooge’s grip and ran towards the car. “Wait! But-! What about my profits?!” he shouted as it turned onto the next street over.

Gladstone sighed, realizing his luck wasn’t gonna bring his money back to him. Though he guessed he still had a really fun time and he didn’t exactly need the money, so maybe that was enough. He looked up to see Uncle Scrooge staring down at him. “What’s up?”

“Should I be concerned about this?” Scrooge asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Gladstone shrugged. “Should I be concerned that a stranger came into your house and took me on a trip across the globe without you knowing about it?”

That one shut Scrooge up, and he huffed before turning around and heading back to the manor. Gladstone looked over at Donald who just seemed to be confused.

“What’s wrong, Donald-o?”

He frowned and shrugged. “I’m just surprised that Aunt Goldie took you on a trip, is all. She’s never taken me or Della anywhere.”

Gladstone slapped Donald on the back a little harder than he meant to, making the slightly younger duck quack. “Eh, I wouldn’t think too hard about it. Ladies can’t resist my charm, after all!”

Donald rolled his eyes. “You know she’s Uncle Scrooge’s girlfriend, right?”

“Huh?” Gladstone put a hand to his chin and thought about some things Goldie had said to him over the past twenty-four hours. He nodded slowly. “You know what? That makes a lot of sense. Yup, yup. That explains everything.”

“So happy for you,” Donald mumbled and started the long walk back to the manor.

Gladstone quickly caught up to him and smiled brightly. In fact, he just wouldn’t stop smiling at his cousin. He was smiling so much that it was making Donald even more irritated than he’d already been.

“What?”

“Don’t you wanna know about my trip?”

#ducktales #goldie o'gilt #gladstone gander #donald duck #scrooge mcduck #not your aunt #fic #fics

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elstreem · 3 years ago

Text

ALBW One-Shot: The Sword and the Shadow

Heya, so more writing stuff! This one is technically finished but prolly needs edits.

To summarize, the spirit of the Master Sword meets with a lad with her master's face on one late night.

As usual, if this is too hard to read, here's the G docs: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Pjs3LhclohUslR_ZQ55N1y8qQ3nZ640EJgn_5c-6HSg/edit?usp=sharing

ALBW: The Sword and the Shadow

Night lay deep on Hyrule, the late hour quiet except for the occasional rustle of the grass. Ravio peered outside and sighed in relief – despite his fears, none of the monsters patrolling outside had ever thought to come inside the houses of Hyrule. Whistling to his only companion, his pet bird named Sheerow, he proceeded to lie down on the dusty rug, the only comfortable place to rest on. It wasn’t always so – a few days ago, it was the neat and cozy home of a blacksmith’s apprentice. Ravio had changed that, and the former home was currently devoted to being an item shop. Not that it looked much like a shop - the display tables formed a rectangle, but most of them were empty, displaying only a few placards which proclaimed most of the items were on rent. Only a Fire Rod was left, sparkling in the lamplight.

Though he should have happily dozed off, Ravio felt rather restless and try as he might, could not get himself to feel sleepy. With a sigh, he realized he had to do something to pass the time. The only problem was there wasn’t much to do when there are monsters outside and your only companion is a pet bird. Looking around the house, the Fire Rod caught his eye, and with a huff, he stood up, expecting little more than a quiet night polishing the magical item. Ravio was just picking up the wand to dust it off when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Instantly alert, he clutched the Fire Rod to himself and anxiously peered out of the window. A warm glow came up the hill on which the house stood, and in a few moments a slight figure limped its way up the slope. Ravio perked up and immediately returned the Fire Rod to its display table, before eagerly bustling off to the front of the house to welcome his only customer. The door had barely opened when Ravio did his usual greeting.

“Hello, Mr. Hero!” Ravio chirped, sounding a bit like Sheerow.

“Here to rent -?”

But he stopped short in surprise. Garbed in green and with a sword in hand, the Hylian named Link looked like a hero straight out of the legends, but a very exhausted one. The hand he was using to carry a lantern was shaking slightly, and aside from the usual dirt from his adventures, a nasty cut was also on his face.

“Need to sleep,” Link groaned, limping into his home.

“Hang on, let me just, uhh, dig out your bed,” Ravio said, looking around at Link’s furniture, which he had wildly pushed to the walls to make the space for his shop.

“This will do,” Link mumbled, lying down on the rug. He just about placed his sword back into its sheath before he collapsed into sleep. Ravio gasped and hurried to his side, and was relieved to see Link breathing – in fact, he was already snoring.

“Phew, you scared me Mr. Hero…” Ravio murmured. Checking once more to see if the Hylian was truly, deeply asleep, he felt confident enough to remove his mask. Without the distinctive rabbit hood, Ravio could almost be mistaken for the youth sleeping on the floor. From the shape of their eyes, the same pointed tips to their ears, and even the way the hair fell down their faces, they were incredibly alike. There were only two differences: while Ravio’s hair was the purple of falling dusk, Link’s was the gold of noonday sun, and though the Hylian’s eyes were closed at the moment, his eyes were blue to Ravio’s green. Perhaps it had something to do with the worlds they lived in, and Ravio sometimes wondered if he too, might have had golden hair and blue eyes if he had grown up in a world filled with light. He shook the thoughts away and stood up. He went to the roughly stacked furniture and scrounged for a blanket, before returning to Link’s side and sitting down again. Sheerow landed on his shoulder and gave a curious chirp, making Ravio smile.

“Of course, we only look alike, Mr. Hero and I. The similarity is only skin-deep, but it would frighten anyone to see someone look much like themselves. I suppose he’ll only want to see his own face in a mirror,” Ravio softly said to Sheerow. With a sigh, he pulled on his hood again, wincing at the stuffy feeling of having it back on his head. With his face hidden away, Ravio then gently draped the blanket over Link, but on noticing the sheathed sword still within Link’s hand, he paused. It was definitely new – the sword Link had been using was a plain old sword, sharp and a good blade, yes, but nothing remarkable, especially when it was tucked away in its nondescript brown scabbard. This one was sheathed in a beautiful blue scabbard, richly decorated with gold ornaments, with the holy symbol of the Triforce prominently featured. The hilt of the sword was all that was visible, but it was certainly anything but ordinary. The hilt was made of a crystalline material, carved into the shape of wings that jutted away from the blade. It was enough for Ravio to recognize that this was the legendary blade spoken of in Hyrule - the Master Sword.

Awed, he couldn’t help himself from going closer to gaze at it. Even without knowledge about the history of Hyrule, Ravio could tell that this sword was sacred, meant to banish evil. Scarcely daring to breathe, he reached out to touch it, thoughts careening wildly in his mind. With a sword like this, maybe, just maybe, he could…he could do…

Nothing. Still nothing, because I’m only a coward.

The thought came like a splash of icy water, and Ravio flinched, fingers stopping short of touching the sword. A bitter frown formed on his face – while very unwelcome, the truth still held fast, and that truth was that he was a coward at heart, and he knew it. Only a coward after all, would have fled and left a princess when she needed him most…he was no hero. With a sigh, Ravio dropped his hand, his fingers brushing against the sheath of the sword.

In the next moment, a blinding flash lit up the inside of the house.

Ravio yelled in surprise and threw up his arms to shield his face. It was a dazzling silver light, and it burned his sight much like the sun of Hyrule has burned him when he first came through the chink between worlds. But as quickly as the light had come, it faded, and sensing this change, Ravio carefully lowered his arms and blinked away the spots dancing in his eyes. As soon as his senses cleared, he was aware of Sheerow making an alarmed racket next to his ear. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, and realized why the bird was behaving so strangely. With his heart hammering away at his chest, Ravio scrambled back, his mouth open to scream, but sadly, his voice got stuck somewhere in his throat and would not come out.

There was an intruder in the house, and she was definitely a cause for alarm.

For starters, she was floating in the air, close to the ceiling. The sight reminded Ravio of the Great Fairies that were scattered across the land, but she had no wings at her back. Also similar to the fairy folk, she was very beautiful. Her face was young and smooth, her blue skin glowing with a metallic sheen. She was clad in the colors of the sky and dusk, her fluttering robes fit for royalty, richly dyed purple and blue, and threads of gold running through her dress.

For all her beauty and regal air, however, she also looked frightening.

“Ahhh…aaargh –!“ The pieces of a scream started to come out of Ravio’s mouth, but a voice cut across the sounds of his distress.

“Please refrain from creating noise,” the voice instructed in formal tones. Ravio saw the spirit’s mouth move, and he supposed only she could have spoken in such a voice – it sounded like a girl’s voice, but also otherworldly, echoing as though she was speaking from the end of a tunnel.

Ravio's voice, on the other hand, decided to crawl back into his throat and cowered there, and he ended up just shutting his mouth and scooching away. Sheerow perched on his shoulder and stayed there, trembling occasionally.

The spirit looked on curiously, and satisfied that Ravio seemed to have quieted down, she floated down until her feet touched the ground, just beside Link. At that sight, Ravio was about to stand up, a sudden feeling of protectiveness coming over him. He couldn't let Link be harmed by this spirit - he was the only hope for their kingdoms (as well as his only source of business.)

But before Ravio had even shifted his weight, the spirit sat down, neatly folding her legs under herself. She also draped part of her cloak over Link's sleeping form, and though her face hardly changed, Ravio thought there was deep fondness in her eyes. Her gestures and mannerisms - Ravio sensed a devotion in them, of a bond that had been forged long ago.

"What is your relation to my master?"

"Huh?" Ravio asked.

"What is your relation to Master Link? You share his home and your auras are very similar," the spirit said.

"I…I'm Ravio. I guess…I'm like his counterpart in this world," Ravio said. He briefly pulled his hood away to show the spirit his face. She did not look fazed at all to see Ravio's face, and only nodded her head in acknowledgement.

"Processing information…processing complete. You are not of Hyrule, but of a world also created by the Goddesses. Greetings, Ravio. I am Fi, servant of Master Link, spirit of the Master Sword."

"Servant…so you've been looking after Link here?" Ravio asked.

"Only very recently in this life," Fi replied. Ravio got goosebumps - the way Fi said it, he could only guess how many times she had performed this role. "I am sworn to serve my master, in any age that evil wakes to threaten this land,” she added.

“So...you’ve done this before then? Save Hyrule?” Ravio asked.

“Yes,” Fi answered simply.

“Then - then please -” Ravio came closer, aware of the desperation in his own voice.

“Please - save my own kingdom. No - save my princess,” Ravio said, bowing his head so low that his forehead touched the ground.

“I couldn’t do my duty to her. But you - and Link - you can do what I couldn’t. Right?” Ravio said, raising his face to look at Fi in the eyes.

“Once, long ago, I failed my master, and Hyrule fell to ruin. I cannot guarantee that it will not happen again,” Fi said. Ravio got a lump in his throat and fell silent.

“Any time we face down the dark forces against Hyrule, my master faces a 90% chance of failure. It is the same situation now.” Fi looked at Link’s face, a master she had grown to truly love over the ages. And with that love she had also felt his pain, and now, she felt hurt to see him wounded and in danger.

“But even with the low chances of success, I will do my utmost to prevent the same downfall,” Fi said, her words gaining an edge as sharp as her blade. Then she looked at Ravio, her eyes still blank and expressionless but somehow it felt like she was looking through him.

“If you are to prevent what you fear the most, you must act,” Fi said.

“But if I can’t find the courage to do so…” Ravio said, lowering his head.

“Then, act with love.”

Ravio looked up, his words trailing into a stutter of surprise. The spirit of the sword, a legend who had endured countless ages...her lips were unmistakably curved in a warm, fond smile. It was a sight that no one, save Link, had ever seen.

And the sight of her smile reminded Ravio of long-ago days, when the princess he loved did not yet bear the burden of saving a fallen kingdom...

“The hour grows late, and you will need strength for days to come. You should also get sleep,” Fi suggested. Ravio started, not realizing that he was lost in thought.

“Oh, but-”

“Do not worry. I shall keep watch,” Fi said. She stood up and floated over to the window, humming a lonely melody. Ravio blinked - it was like all his exhaustion caught up with him all of a sudden, and he lay down, his mind clear of all worries. He didn’t know what he was meant to do yet, but...he shut his eyes and slept, dreaming about light for once.

Alone, Fi looked out into the night, and when a curious Sheerow perched on her shoulder, she did not mind.

-------

“Up and at them, Mr. Hero!”

Link groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. He knew he heard a wonderful, familiar song in his dreams, but he couldn’t quite remember it…

“Breakfast?”

A warm and sweet aroma perked Link up, and he looked to see Ravio pass him a tray, on which there was a bottle of milk, still-warm bread and apple slices. Link looked down at the tray and then up again at Ravio, and his wonder must have shown in his face because Ravio put up his hands.

“Ooh, surprised? Well, so am I! I was only looking forward to some apples for breakfast but a really nice lady passed by and left this food. I think she said she was the Blacksmith’s wife? Anyway, she said it was for you for finding...Gunney or someone,” Ravio explained in a chirpy tone.

Link’s mouth watered - he hadn’t had a proper meal in forever, it seemed, and barely had Ravio finished when he tore into the food.

“Whoa, adventuring sure gives you an appetite huh? Anyway, you’ll be going out again, yeah?” Ravio said. Link nodded, crumbs sticking all over his face.

“...well, take care, you hear me?”

Some time later, Ravio repeated the sentiment as Link was heading out, and the Hylian cocked his head at him, puzzled by Ravio’s behavior. Sure, he was pretty cheerful, but laid-back, and Link wondered why Ravio was being positively sunny. Shrugging it off, he walked out, not seeing Ravio wave cheerfully at his back - or the Master Sword twinkling briefly as they set off on another journey together.

#a link between worlds #albw #ravio #fi #zelda fanfic

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10kiaoi · 5 years ago

Photo

Tactical gear appreciation post lol.

CW: canon typical violence, issues related to death. Notes: Very much unbetaed and written with increasing desperation. Please go easy on me?

----

The first time Bond sees the boy, it’s in the busy shopping streets of Bangkok.

It’s midday and sweltering but the Pratunam district is buzzing with activity.

Bond idles along the street side vendors, ambling through the makeshift tents and racks. The crowd is thick enough that he brushes shoulders with others every few steps or so. He keeps half an eye on the lovely trinkets - little wooden carvings of various local fauna. The other half is firmly fixed on a man rumoured to be delving into the international arms trade.

He inspects a figurine of an elephant, tuning out the shopkeeper’s enthusiastic pitch in broken english.

A scream pierces the air- a high pitched shriek that sends the crowd careening backwards. As Bond is shoved backwards by the masses, he spots a man toppled over on the ground, motionless. Around him, there are yells in Thai, in English, in various other languages of the disturbed tourists.

He quickly scans the panicked crowd but catches nothing more than a flash of deep brunette melting away into the throngs.

It’s an unexpected sudden end to his current mission.

----

Berlin is a mess.

The woman Bond is tasked with assessing is KGB- turncoat and now looking for a new master. Bond strides into a small chain cafe on a quiet street. The cafe isn’t too busy- the few customers present are already seated and distracted. Anya Pavlova is seated in the far corner up against the wall, engaged in her book and a cup of coffee.

Bond heads to the counter, places his order. It arrives in short order and he chooses a seat by the window. The occasional autumn breeze is refreshing in the stuffy cafe, after sunny, tropical Bangkok.

Out of the corner of his eye, Pavlova slips into the washroom.

Bond tucks into his meal.

She slips back out after a brief pause, prim and proper, returns to her softback.

No one else gets up. Bond slides into the washroom. The note is exactly where Bond expects it to be. He glances quickly at the series of numbers- a phone number, tucks it into a secure little pocket in the lining of his jacket. He flushes the toilet, washes his hands and steps back out.

Pavlova waits for him to sit back down at his table before putting away her possessions into the little handbag at her side.

The waitress comes over smiling, a tray with a single cup. Bond frowns, ready to reject the clearly mistaken order. “With compliments, it’s already paid for!” the waitress chirps. Bond pauses, then graciously thanks the waitress as she transfers the cup to his table. He resolutely does not turn to look at Pavlova who is making for the door.

It’s a lovely rich black, no cream or sugar.

The napkin is folded neatly under the cup.

Bond looks down to check his phone. Pavlova steps out from under the shelter of the awning. The cashier’s cheerful “come again!” switches to a screech of horror, followed by several others both in and outside of the cafe.

Bond whips up with his heart pounding, only training preventing him from dropping his phone on the way. There’s a telltale metallic glint from a far off high rise, no more than a shimmer off what most would assume is reflective glass. It lasts no longer than a flash.

Pavlova is dead before she hits the ground.

----

M is understandably spitting mad.

One doesn’t come by an enemy agent offering their services everyday and Pavlova could have been a terrific addition to MI6’s arsenal of covert long term operatives what with already being in the KGB and all.

The morbid hilarity of the entire situation - Bond hasn’t done anything to influence such an outcome. A textbook execution practically.

And yet it has gone all tits up.

A fuming M marches him down to Q Branch with carte blanche to use all resources to find the leak. “Something we should have done since Bangkok!” M rages in a rare moment of self reproach as Bond bears her fury with silence.

A forensics team is sent to the building the sniper is suspected to have worked from. They find nothing. Q Branch fares no better, the few low res security cameras of little help when it turns out they have all gone down simultaneously around the time of the incident.

He’s grilled on what he remembers. Every tiny detail dragged out to be examined on all fronts to determine if he has missed anything.

There’s little else they can do with no other leads.

----

In Mexico City, Bond destroys an entire warehouse’s worth of hard drugs before it ever reaches his country’s shores.

The explosion is magnificent- a great blooming flameball and a sound blast that blows out every window in a one kilometer radius.

It’s almost makes up for being whacked hard enough atop the head that he blacks out instantly.

----

Miguel Garcia is a terrible host.

Bond watches as the man drops the unfortunate minion into a pit of crocs. The screams still ring in his ears when Garcia starts in on him. His earwig is long gone. For once, he misses having Q Branch in his ear.

Standard villain interrogation routine- a couple of hits here and there, a good deal of verbal threats, a few electrocutions to top it off. Nothing a double oh hasn’t been trained to take.

Bond laughs and screams through the entire facade, a savage grin splitting his face apart. He shoves the desperate need to know that someone is coming into a tiny box and pushes it into a dusty corner of his mind where a stone mansion lies.

Garcia is coming apart at the seams and for good reason. Between the two of them, Bond would garner Garcia’s in deeper shit and he gleefully tells Garcia so.

The lacerations with a dull knife are worth the brief terror turned rage across Garcia’s face.

----

Bond is thrown into a dark room and left to rot without food or water.

His body is a mass of bruises and pain - there isn’t a part of him that feels like he could sleep forever. The relative silence is a much cherished balm against the earlier violence. He’s just drifting off into a light doze- all the better for maintaining his energy reserves when the single shot echoes around the facility.

It’s loud and forbidding.

Bond jerks awake, adrenaline rushing through his veins.

There’s yelling and panic, a desperate attempt to mount some kind of defence but a great deal more bellows that cut off in the middle.

Bond’s heart pounds painfully in his chest. He staggers up, ignoring the painful pull at all his wounds.

Somewhere in the distance, there’s a bang of a grenade.

Outside his prison, there’s a crack. The door swings open. Bond squints at the sudden brightness. A familiar silhouette appears in the light of the doorway.

“Heard you needed backup, brother!”

Bond could just kiss him.

--------

What the hospital staff doesn’t know won't hurt them.

Bond makes it a point to share a drink with Felix whenever he’s in town. Langley isn’t too far from DC and it’s been a while since they have had the opportunity to catch up.

Well, that and the man rescued him from the clutches of Garcia. Bond owes Felix more than a round of drinks.

Bond steadily ignores the disapproving looks Felix aims at his shots. More than for the company, it’s an informal exchange of information- information locked behind red tape and bureaucracy in other circumstances. It’s efficient and lays bare the minute details Bond has to work to hunt down otherwise.

Felix tells him about an operation in Alaska of all places. Bond tells him about Bangkok. They both down a stiff drink.

Felix pauses, a momentary lapse that blares like an alarm to Bond’s trained eye.

Bond narrows his eyes. “What is it?”

Felix grimaces. Something like suspicion and dread creeps over Bond.

“About that, we found the warehouse because of a tipoff. Garcia was already dead when we got there.”

----

Felix doesn’t quite let him in to the CIA secure archives but it’s a pretty close thing.

He leaves Bond waiting in one of the meeting rooms, blinds drawn. When he returns, it’s with a thin folder. There’s also a ziplock with tiny metal pieces no bigger than pennies. Bond turns a skeptical gaze at Felix.

Felix waves the reports like a carrot on a stick. “All our agents’ reports of suspected encounters we have had with our man. Maybe you’ll see something our profilers haven’t.”

Bond’s gaze at the file turns covetous. Felix smirks.

The cases weren’t unlike his own experiences- clean kills, in and out before anyone is aware enough to act. Security cameras were as good as useless with how the feed has clearly been tampered with. Nothing he hasn’t already deduced from his own encounters. It’s entirely frustrating and Bond feels the prickle under his skin, a clawing need to know.

“Paranoid, that one,” Felix declares, settling into an empty chair. Bond snorts.

“He knows he’s being hunted,” Bond corrects.

“No one’s actually seen him, you’d be the first,” Felix admits, leaning backwards.

No traces left behind, no witnesses. Professional to the extreme.

Bond hisses in displeasure.

----

Felix insists on sending him to the airport despite his protests. Dulles International Airport comes into sight like a hulking grey beast, ugly and utilitarian.

“Take care, brother,” Felix wishes over their hug, leaving with several commiserating pats to Bond’s back, carefully avoiding the still healing areas.

A call comes over the speakers as Bond heads through the express security lane: boarding for flight SQ2522 has begun. There’s a flash of brunette curls in the distance- Bond’s heart lurches, mind flashing back to Bangkok. But no, it’s a lady, petite but tall.

For one irrational moment he thinks that it’s Vesper. Brilliant, gorgeous, traitorous Vesper with her wit and charm and lovely red lips.

But the woman moves out of sight towards her gate and the moment’s over and Bond is drawn back into the monochrome present.

----

It’s a random thought- one driven more by instinct from years in the field rather than any rational explanation.

He boards his plane- a direct flight back to London. It is after the stewardess has come round offering champagne that Bond pulls the memory of the little slip of paper Pavlova left behind for him in that Berlin cafe.

Pressing send feels akin to stirring a hornet’s nest.

----

“Thank you for the coffee. It was most delightful. See you soon.”

----

There isn’t much in Pavlova’s handbag- her phone, a softcover likely plucked from a discount bin, a half used tube of lipstick, a writing pad and a fountain pen.

It is the pen Bond focuses his attention on.

Q Branch excels in the technical fields. They’ve done their bit and gone through the cell. As expected of someone like Pavlova. The phone is clean - clearly a burner phone. It is a dead end.

Bond’s expertise is in people and their sentiments.

The fountain pen’s barrel glints, polished despite the corners where the gold has gone dull with age. The nib is uneven, as though grounded down by constant pressure on one side. There’s a ring around the feed and the section, perhaps originally gold like the decorative edgings and on the clip but the gold’s almost completely faded. Bond twists the ring.

A blade springs out from under the nib.

----

Taipei is unfinished business.

The cheap street food is an utter delight. Jiufen is beyond crowded on a weekend and going through the long narrow streets is a slow shuffle sandwiched between local hikers and curious tourists. Bond finds himself with a stick of some grilled meat in one hand,

Several meters ahead, a man walks on oblivious, arms laden down by souvenirs.

There’s a flash of brunette in the corner of Bond’s eye. His snack falls to the ground, abandoned as he slices through the crowd. Outraged yells go up behind him but his concentration has locked onto the scene before him.

It is deja vu.

He barrels through the horde, grasps the slender wrist in an iron grip.

He’s pinned by a wide eyed stare, brilliant green eyes shocked and surprised behind glasses.

Then the blade in the pen is abruptly twisted towards him.

The crowd topples backwards, shrill screaming accompanying the wave of people attempting to flee the altercation. It’s utter pandemonium.

Bond leaps backwards to dodge the blade, but the assailant follows, a dogged determination in his eyes. They grapple in the narrow stone street, amidst the fleeing crowd. The boy shoves him into a display counter of traditional snacks. He lashes out with a kick to the sternum, sending the boy into the corner of a wall and knocking the breath out of him.

They clamber to their feet and circle each other, bruised and all the more vicious for it.

The boy hisses under his breath, like a cat with its tail stepped on. Bond answers with a snarl of his own, blood dripping from the laceration on his cheek.

The streets have emptied by now, the target having slipped away in the commotion.

There’s a momentary flash of indecision, of uncertainty. Inexplicably, the boy turns and darts down an adjourning alleyway.

Bond curses, bolts after the flash of military green parka around the tight corners. He leaps five steps at a time down a steep stairway carved into the street, charging past the backs of residential houses.

He skids to a halt in the middle of a crossroad, utterly alone. There’s a familiar looking pen on the ground, its owner nowhere to be found. In the distance, there are sirens.

Bond sends a fist into the ground, knuckles white beneath the bruises.

----

Wang Guo Pei is a pale faced man, still green from the attempt on his life.

He is also the younger brother of the man killed in Bangkok, whose death has and still is sending ripples across the networks. The interrogation room is bleak and bare. The cold lights enhance the man’s sickly look, hallowed by fear and anxiety over the threat of death even through the filter of the camera.

The Underworld really doesn’t care if one is just a foot soldier, not when one is relation and have access to the inner workings of the organization. MI6 has no such qualms either.

Bond has lost track of how many lesser devils MI6 has had to make a deal with to nail bigger fish.

He watches as the interrogation is repeated, fiddling with his own souvenir. Unlike Pavlova’s, this model sports a two barrel converter on top of the hidden blade. One is filled with regular ink. The other… Bond replaces the cap firmly, slips it back into an inner pocket.

He doesn’t put much stock in working with an entire team with how often they just slow him down instead of being helpful. But M’s made up her mind and the powers that be agree. He’s on his way towards the waiting ops team and Wang three hours later.

----

“Now pay attention, 007, this is a bulletproof suit-”

“Yes, thank you Major, I know what a bulletproof suit does.”

“Not this one, you don’t, now pay attention! I don’t want to have to repeat myself. Now see this here, this little bag, it’s been engineered to be filled with blood- ”

“Isn’t that just a water balloon?”

----

Hours later, Bond lands in Changi Airport, Singapore with new orders and new purpose.

----

Q slips into the office tower easily, waiting for the last few stragglers making their way out to pass by before continuing on his way to the lifts. The night patrol is swiftly dealt with, a quick prick of a gel coated dart with fast acting amnesiac properties.

The ride up is silent, no cheery elevator music to soften the adrenaline. He uses the time to check on his systems briefly. A flick on his phone brings up the app that mirrors the processes his laptop is carrying out while tucked away safely in his hotel suite. It’s a particular test of his abilities, this city, with all its zealousness in adhering to security measures. His laptop has been running nonstop since the moment he stepped foot on this island.

The security cameras remain silent in their judgement. His finger twitches, feeling the weight of his missing pen acutely.

The accomplishment of successful missions has long since worn off. The thrill of travel, of seeing the world and all it offers has dulled with the gravity of the situation he finds himself in. Pavlova’s death is still a fresh wound, the condolences offered by the organization doing nothing to stem the loss and grief that accompanies losing the only maternal figure he has in his life.

Last one, and then you’re out.

The rifle is cold and heavy in his arms.

A robotic female voice announces the level they’ve arrived at and Q steps out.

Wang is immediately visible in the building across the road, in his office.

Q runs a last check of the cameras. They come back clear so he drops to a knee, setting up his equipment. The thick glass of the skyscraper is easily dealt with, a perfect circle being cut out and lifted away to reveal a small hole through which the rifle can be fired through.

It takes no more than a few seconds.

Wang goes down in his office, blood painting the walls.

Q starts packing up.

----

Several muffled shots are followed by a heavy thump.

The man stepping out of the shadows with his Walther primed and ready in his hand is a familiar face. Q can’t tear his eyes away, entranced when the MI6 agent unceremoniously drops the body to the ground.

Q’s stomach drops, visibly blanching.

He recognizes the corpse’s issue of equipment- he’s helped design some of it in fact.

He knows for a fact, that particular section never comes alone.

“Seems like you’ve pissed off your employer,” the man he fought in Taiwan drawls.

Q’s hand goes for his rifle, only to flinch away when the man fires a warning shot. Q freezes. The man motions with his Walter. Q obeys, sliding the rifle away out of reach. He’s mentally flashing through all his equipment, looking for a way to buy time and find an exit, recalling all the areas where he landed hits just days ago.

“Bond,” the man pauses significantly, “James Bond. 007.”

Q blinks. Then slowly, “Am I supposed to curse your name as you kill me then?”

Bond stares, confusion then exasperation. “Oh for Christ’s sake, the one time I try to be civil,” Bond grumbles mutinously.

Q has to hastily stifle a laugh at Bond’s disgruntlement. There’s a moment of acknowledgement of the ludicrousness, yet it somehow lightens the atmosphere between him and and his would be executioner. It’s jarring, how that one line manages to bring a little humour back to his life. It’s simply another indicator of how much the state of things has deteriorated around him without him noticing.

It’s almost regretful it isn’t likely to last.

Q tenses as Bond’s hand creeps to one of his pockets.

It’s cruel irony, if Bond does indeed intend to use that object as an instrument of Q’s death.

Q turns distraught eyes upon the agent- a double oh, if he’s to be believed.

“I gave her that,” Q whispers, eyes locked onto Pavlova’s pen in Bond’s fingers.

“She gave it to me,” Bond states.

Q’s face falls.

“Is what I was ordered to tell you,” Bond continues, voice dropping to a murmur, “But I think you’ve been lied to enough, wouldn’t you say.”

The full force of grief knocks the breath from his chest once again.

Q watches with detached fascination as Bond winces, reaching up to remove the earpiece and drop it in a pocket.

Bond turns back to him in all seriousness, and the dread rises again.

“I couldn’t do this for someone else,” Bond murmurs, catching him around the waist. And oh, how Q can see the same loss and anguish in the other as if they are kindred spirits. “Someone important to me,” Bond chokes out, “but you have a choice now. You wanted out, this is your chance.”

How Q wants to believe him.

He leans in, breathes two words into Bond’s ear.

Bond breaks out in a small, relieved grin.

----

Bond cups Q’s face, pressing their foreheads together in reassurance.

Q takes a steadying breath. His death is now fully in MI6’s- in James’ hands.

“Now darling, do be a good boy and put this on for me,” James whispers conspiratorially.

#00q #quartermaster #james bond #007 #art by op #fanfics #not sure if i'd be able to crank out anything next week #this is prolly the last art for this year??#and decade #just wants to art tactical gear #ends up ficcing 3k words #if you don't count the deleted versions #i did not expect to spend an entire day just for this 3k of words #WHEEZE #hms 00q

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lost-my-plot · 4 years ago

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"They Who Hold Their Tongue..."

Ohhhhhh what's the fufuf I'm actually doing as promised well that's surprising from me. But this took a while because I really could come up with any ideas, however the lovely [] helped by giving me the curse(s) our sweet reader must suffer but I did unfortunately go with the classic sleeping. let's get to the story.

PS. Someone also gave me a rook to motivate me to finish this. I feel as though I should give them something in return lololo

PPS. THE HALLOWEEN EVENT AHHHH

-creamy

Reader is also a merperson yet what type is up to you (tho Floyd's nickname for you is koi for irony)

TW: grief, reader 'dying',

Tell me if I need to add any more

The simple happiness that swallows Azul when he stays by their side. A person who saw past every partof him; beyond the chubby past and the immoral way he runs his business, helping the insecurities that lurk. The twins also found joy in the company of ____; they can all relate im ways they can't get with most others in the school, bond about missing the beautiful way sun shines in the water or how the coral and other planets seem to be alive as the current speed up or slowed. All the small things they didn't get at school on the land.

The night was louder then usual. More bodies to work around and serve, brighter lights flashing and moving most of the movement scaring the poor unfortunate fish who live in the central aquarium. How could there not be such a fuss on such a day; you see the trio had to plan something extremely large for their fellow fin having student's birthday, and this it was; though as usual there was still a profit to be made so a birthday event: where select drinks (____'s favorites) were on 'sale' and Azul's 'advice' only costs half as many points. This way of profiting was working greatly but that wasn't the main focus of the night the main attraction was on ___ from gives being given and normal conversation. What could possibly distract from the joyfully festivities

As the night continues and the crowd of customers thins out, leaving just ____, a few finishing their meals and three planning their final gift for the [fish type] mer as some employees finalize the cake. Speaking of the cake, it was beautifully crafted all the details falling into the perfect place; the blue icing was mixed to resemble the deep oceans that were once home, chocolate lily pads and tiny plastic fish make the rest of the cake feel complete. Finally closing the doors and flipping a sign the restaurant was closed to the public and the boys relaxed a little more with the employees going back to their dorms it was fine time for the small cake and Gifts.

____dipped the knife into the cake giggling at the words leavings Floyd's mouth and Azul's slightly disappointed. A sudden change seems to have taken upon ____ when the slice of cake reset on the plate; their eyes seem lost and empty while their movements become more robotic and ears are filled with there own beating heart and a quite whipping and song they knew long ago yet never truly heard. Jade was quick to notice the change as his brother and friend were distracted by the cake both its beauty and taste, as he moves closer to the birthday boy/girl a spoon filled with cake touches their lips and with in a second it's all too late.

As the spoon of what should have been a delightful piece of cake entered their mouth the spell that seemed to have taken them broke for just a moment, long enough look at Jade's eyes pure fear covered both faces as their body moved back falling just past his arms hitting the ground. The sound of the fall brought the attention of Azul and Floyd; Floyd's body moved quickly as a fight reaction while Azul froze up at the sight.

"KOI! Koi come on," Floyd started to trail off on his words asking of this was just one of your pranks, as he continues Jade's brain finally catches up and he falls to his knees to help move their sleeping corpse and checking it over for injuries with hast namely checking the head.

Azul stood still shocked warm tears rolling down his cheeks, how could this have happened had one of his employees poisoned the cake? No that couldn't be it both himself and Floyd ate it then how and why. What would draw someone to hurt something so sweet something of a Pearl in his Sea.

Their body lay in peaceful at the bottom of the large central aquarium in a elegant shell bed surrounded with their favorite coral, the [colour] tail hangs gently from the end of the shell.

It wasn't uncommon to find one all all three of the men people sit or lay among them. Jade was the most rare to actually see in there but believe he did visit often usually holding their hands gently and questioning if this was so cruel punishment for what him and Floyd have done. Which brings up Floyd; he would swim around them fast as usual talking about his day and the same conversations they both once had he seemed to have not accepted that their gone, he's the only one talking. Lastly the truly unfortunate soul Azul this poor octopus nearly never left their side constantly weeping and crying; he usually spent his nights wrapped around them hoping he'd wake up with them smiling down at his tear covered face.

If only they knew what his gentle kiss could do.

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hanawrites404 · 3 years ago

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Wynne's Diary - Bonds with Asra

@sweetalnazar

This place was fucking sickening, first of all. The small wooden cabin was dimly lit with yellow and vermilion lamps, tinting the room with similar colour as the fizzy nauseous drink settled in front of me. The prickling stench of strong alcohol and hot sweat was evident in the air, with deafening shanties and cheers of both sober and drunk customers buzzing through the whole compartment, leaving a whole aroma of disdain and queasiness.

I told them numerous times it was a bad idea, FOR A TOTAL OF THIRTY TWO TIMES TO BE PRECISE. But NOOOO they HAD TO ignore my reasoning and arrive but also haul me to this fucking cursed place for some sweet fucking lady company and to drink the fucks out of their fucking useless brains. JUST FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC I SAY. THIS HAD TO BE THE BEST DAY EVER!!!!

But even after all this, here I was, a bit tipsy myself from my lemon alcohol as my spouse and his ginger friend was gutting down their sixth shot of salty bitters. I had never liked that drink since it gave off a taste like sweat on the tongue, but as I had no choice to go home without getting even a bit drunk at the raven, so I had chosen the right and just amount of my beverage unlike two hooligans I am sadly aware of.

Yare yare, boys will always be boys. Though both of them were very much older than me. Fucking man-children, I swear.

"Let's see if you can chuck this one out, Asra!" The child nudged the other child's arm with a glass of the horrible liquid in his gloved hand. His pale cheeks were on fire, and so was the case with the other guy. Both were drowning in the booze, while I just calmly yet internally irritatingly watched both of them as I sipped my glass more civilly, trying my best to not pay any mind to them and pretend that I was an unfortunate stranger.

"Oh you are challenging me, Ilya" Asra taunted, shifting closer to the ginger and holding the surface of the goblet and the material of the other man's gloves with his fingers.

"Oh, am I?" The doctor's smirk got bigger as he stroked the other person's nails. Both of them gazed into each other's eyes, to find out who would lose the contact. I just sighed and yawned a bit. Though the shanties were ear-piercing, they bored me and certainly weren't feeding my interest. It's not that I didn't like the style of it, but more like it was lacking the feel of home I usually feel when I listen to music.

To me, music was a way to express, to reach out to the world and its natural treasures and wonders, to love and appreciate the miracle known as life. It was like an own language in itself. It was happy, it was melancholic, it was lustful. But it was never expressionless or unpleasant. That would be noise, not music. A violation of our poor fragile eardrums, that would be. But that's a rant for later.

Now, what was this feeling of home you ask? The explanation was very simple. I draw.......similarities of my life from music. I make relations with them, like a bond of my life energy and the power, music holds. I am an expressive person, believe me, or not. I keep my feelings hidden, but that doesn't mean my true passion is never seen under the light. It is seen, but only during the right times when I feel no one would question me for my openness. Now that's the feeling of home, where I can do whatever I want, however, I want to, yet I don't feel like an outcast or a stranger dancing in nowhere. Now that's home for me.

And this fucking shanty wasn't entertaining me at all. I'm sorry.

But I still appreciate the hard work the musicians were doing to entertain others here at the raven. I can at least give them tips for that. Lots of tips so they could know someone deeply pities them. However, I would never dare to order them to stop the music and go home. It's almost equal to burying someone alive, and I am not a bad person. I'm just mean. There is a difference, ok? Good? Good.

"There ya go, that's my brave magician" Julian patted Asra's back who was now chugging down what I suspected as, the tenth shot. He was breathless when he slammed down the glass on the table, his hair in front of his face and a bit of cough escaping from his lips.

"There there, you made it Asra. You made it. I lost the bet. You happy now?" Ilya lightly punched his back as Asra tried to cough the burn on his throat and attempted to breathe in and out. Now what kind of bet were they talking about and why I wasn't aware of it, I wondered. Was I...... becoming an outcast among them??

I rested my head on my palm, my eyes staring at Ilya, then at Asra. They were having drinking competitions together all the time and goofing around like good friends while here I was, zoning in and out, ranting about shanties and counting the bubbles in my leftover drink. Why was I here at all? Shouldn't I just leave and let them have their hangouts and hangovers? Shouldn't I just have a good night sleep and let my husband and his friend return home drunk and messed up and find them in the morning collapsed near the door naked??? I didn't know.

But...I guess both the options sounded equally right at that time.

As I saw Julian leading Asra to the front stage near the musicians, and pushing him on his feet for a boost. Looks like he was urging Asra to sing as the members readied their instruments.

I.....had never heard Asra sing before. And I wondered why he suddenly decided to sing now, in front of so many unknown people. Was it the liquor taking over him?? Or was it because I never asked him to sing, he didn't do for me. But he was doing for Ilya because he asked him so?

And again...I thought both the options sounded equally right.

I began to leave, I didn't want any more disappointment to mist over me now, also I was feeling quite tired. I was done for tonight, my hand reaching out to grab my cloak and pull it over myself and exit through the door, already preparing my mind to forget them till the next morning arrives.

But I stopped, as soon as I heard something calling me.

Home.......

"Wynne...I know you want to leave. But please listen to this before you go and have a good sleep, okay?" I heard the shameless moron speak. Now, what was he trying to pull from his trickery sleeves??? Another shanty?? Please don't.

But......what I next heard from him genuinely formed goosebumps on my skin........

He was singing a song...... but not an ordinary song.......

It was our song......It was Home!

I turned to him, my hair gently swaying with the cool breeze that entered the raven from the alleys. Asra had his eyes closed, and he was in blissful peace. His hands were on his chest, where his heart was, and his voice cooed like the hymn of angels.

He was singing our song, the song we both made, the song we both created.

The song which tells the story of our unbreakable bond.

Through ups and downs, through crests and troughs, through mountains and seas. Our love was like a river, it flowed evergreen. We fought, we loved, we hurt, we healed. That was our journey and it all started with a melody.

We had nothing to lose, and we had a lot to share. We had nothing in our minds but affection and care. It may sound ridiculous, it may sound weird, but who was to know how much we have endeared.

This is a bad poem, I think so too. But a tale shared by a couple of two. I glanced at him and he glanced at me, and I saw our hearts set free.

Leaning near the walls I smiled and looked nowhere, but he sang his heart out everywhere.

But he was a voyager, he was meant to roam.

And he being a madman, spoke of our home.........

#the arcana #the arcana game #fan apprentice #wynne toprak #arcana apprentice #arcana mc #arcana oc #asra alnazar #asra the magician #the arcana asra #asra x mc #asra x oc #julian devorak #the arcana julian #ilya devorak #doctor devorak #ilyushka devorak #asraweek2021

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my-fan-side · 4 years ago

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Unconventional (Chapter 2)

A/N: Thank you everyone who have liked and reblogged and made a comment on the first chapter. I hope you’ll enjoy the rest of the story.