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omgrachwrites · 5 years ago

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Where the People are (Prince Caspian One Shot)

Pairing: Prince Caspian x Water Nymph!Reader

Summary: Being curious is a dangerous thing, especially when you’re curious about the ones that would kill you without a second thought. (Set before Prince Caspian.)

Warnings: bit of fluff, bit of angst idk

Words: 1199

A/N: Can you guys believe I’m writing something other than marvel?! I wanted to branch out but idk if there’s even a Narnia fandom, I was watching the films the other day and it rekindled my love for Ben Barnes! Hope you guys like it, sorry its a bit different and please let me know what you think! I love you all very much! xxx

(part two here) (part three here)

The sun was rather high in the cloudless blue sky on that midsummer day and you were still in your favourite corner of the wood, if you didn’t leave now you’d never get to the castle before nightfall. If you didn’t leave now you would be captured and most likely killed by the sons of Adam who believed it was they who truly reigned over Narnia. Raising up out of that beautiful warm pond of yours – you were a water nymph – you began your journey, you decided to walk, you could get along without being in water but you made sure to keep close to rivers and lakes.

Sneaking away was the easiest part, it was getting back that was the problem but you hadn’t been caught by your fellow Narnians yet and as long as there was life in you, you were curious. Curious about those who would kill you if given the chance, you knew your curiosity would be the death of you someday but you couldn’t help yourself. It was your curse, everybody had one. As you walked through the deep forest you were quite sure that you wouldn’t be caught, the trees no longer had their own magic, not since the Kings and Queens of old ruled over Narnia.

It seemed that you had left your home at just the right time for when you arrived outside the grounds of the castle the shining moon was just gaining height in the sky. Running through the majestic grounds there was a babbling brook that was deep enough for you to reside in, it hid you from view but it enabled you to see everything and hear too. It was amazing how far the sound travelled. Every time you visited there was always someone on the moonlit lawn – sometimes it was the Lord and his Lady wife – and you just liked to watch them. Smiling, you got into the shimmering cool water which brought you great relief and you waited, just waited.

Tonight, an old man came striding across the lawn – you had seen him before, he was always mumbling to himself as he wrote things down in a heavy looking tome. He wasn’t alone tonight though, someone else was with him, as the pair got closer to the bank she saw that the stranger was a young man. He was the most beautiful man that you’d ever seen. His long hair blew in the gentle wind and the moonlight illuminated his face in a heavenly glow.

“So what’s next Professor? I would rather like to know more about water nymphs,” he said, his voice as smooth and dark. But it sounded soft and kind, you smiled and rested your elbow on a nearby rock and you gazed up at him.

“My dear Prince, water nymphs were dangerous but wonderful all at the same time. They were far too beautiful to exist, almost hauntingly beautiful, they had the power to ensnare men’s hearts. In the days before the Kings and Queens of old, in the time when the deep magic ruled Narnia, they were often taken into battle. One whisper of their voice could kill opponents if their masters wished it.”

You frowned, you supposed that it was a lie that humans had concocted to justify their violent behaviour towards your kind, there weren’t many water nymphs left. Well, you had heard enough and you followed the brook back to the open water and got home before the sun rose. You were determined not to go back, even if it meant not seeing that beautiful prince again. Unfortunately, your self-control was not nearly as strong as you truly hoped and a couple of nights later you were on your way back to the castle.

You returned there for weeks if only to have just a glimpse of that prince’s face. Over time, you got brave enough to approach closer, that brought you to where you were now, in a tree but still obscured from view. However, you weren’t a graceful on land as you were in the water, which was proved when you moved just an inch. You toppled out of the tree and onto the hard lawn, letting out a gasp of pain as you did so.

“By the powers! Are you quite alright?” you heard a familiar voice and saw a hand at your eye level. Sighing, you took it and allowed yourself to be pulled to your feet and you looked up at your helper. He had the most gorgeous skin, the moonlight made him look ethereal and looking into his dark eyes was like staring at the stars. It was the prince, your prince.

“Err, yes I’m fine. Thank you very much for helping me, I get clumsy,” you smiled sheepishly, feeling a strange warmth travel across your cheeks.

“I am Prince Caspian,” he bowed his head and looked over you, you couldn’t imagine how you looked with a dress made out of blue seaweed and no shoes, “who are you, and what were you doing in that tree?” he sounded amused and not in the least bit angry.

“I’m Y/N,” you tucked your hair behind your ear, you didn’t have a good answer – or lie – to explain why you were in a tree, “I must go.”

“Wait! Oh please, wait!” he called and despite yourself, you turned around, his eyes were soft and kind, it was so easy to get lost in them. He wasn’t like the others. He took your hand and kissed the top of it gently, it made you feel warm, like when the sun came through the trees of the wood and warmed the water.

It suddenly struck you, he thought that you were a human; he’d never seen a water nymph before. Maybe coming back was a mistake, if he knew who – what – you were he’d draw his sword. That thought made you incredibly sad.

“Forgive me, your Highness,” you murmured and you did what you were best at, you ran away through the woods. That day you didn’t return home unscathed.

“You must stop doing this; you’re putting all of us in danger. Those who rule over our enchanted land believe we’re extinct and it must stay that way,” your friend said, he sounded stern.

“Trumpkin,” you sighed and turned around, looking at the dwarf, “there was this prince and he-“

“Are you about to tell me that he’s not like the rest of the humans? Don’t be fooled, they’re all the same and without Aslan, we cannot face them.”

“You don’t even know him,” your eyes welled up with tears, that was still a strange sensation. Living underwater for the better part of your life you weren’t used to crying tears when you were sad.

“Neither do you,” it was the truth but it hurt all the same.

“You mustn’t worry, I will not be seeing him again, please Trumpkin, please don’t tell anybody,” when Trumpkin nodded you slipped back into the waters of your pond, dreaming about the day when you could see Caspian again. You supposed that it couldn’t be too soon, you didn’t want to arouse suspicion. But, you had a plan.

#prince caspian #caspian #prince caspian imagine #prince caspian one shot #prince caspian fluff #prince caspian angst #narnia #the chronicles of narnia #ben barnes #fluff #angst #prince caspian x reader #water nymph #fantasy #c.s lewis

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ladyideal · 5 years ago

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This Is Us Chapter 6

Pairing: Legolas x OC!Reader

Word Count: 3392

Warnings: Canon violence, character death

Summary: When the One Ring was found, it becomes a journey across Middle Earth to destroy it. Watch as the Fellowship is formed, and crossed the continent, where loyalty will be tested, and love will blossom at the most unexpected places.

A/n: Sorry for taking ages to write this up, but here it is! Thanks everyone for patiently waiting. But y'all know what happens here.

Chapter 5 ~ Masterlist ~ Chapter 7

An elegant ship, carved in the likeness of a swan, flows through a river. Galadriel stood in it. On shore, cloaks were fastened around each of the Fellowship with green, silver-veined leaf-brooches.

"Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people. May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes," The Lord of Lothlorien spoke as he watched.

As elves prepared for the departure of the Fellowship, Legolas stood among them, shifting parcels into a set of boats provided by the Galadhrim. He held up a thin wafer for Merry and Pippin to see, as they sat within one of the boats.

"Lembas! Elvish Way-bread. One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man." The elf prince announced.

You rolled your eyes at him in turn, stepping back onto the shore for last minute provisioning.

"Every league you travel south, the danger will increase. Mordor Orcs now hold the eastern shore of the Anduin." Celeborn continued. ""Nor will you find safety on the western bank. Strange creatures bearing the mark of the White Hand have been seen on our borders. Seldom do Orcs journey in the open, under the sun, yet these have done so!"

You sighed. It had to be Saruman doing, that you were sure of. You paused in your steps, and looked down. Celeborn held an ornate dagger before you.

"Le aphadar aen." (You are being tracked.)

You gently grasped it, and unsheathed it, watching as the blade glinted. "We can still finish this."

He nodded slowly. "By river you have the chance of outrunning the enemy to the Falls of Rauros."

You took one last glance at your reflection on the blade before safely sheathing it away. "It is time, Celeborn. Le hannon." (I thank you.)

"Alena," Haldir whispered, pulling the half elf into a tight hug. "Stay safe. Im mel cin." (I love you.)

They shared a quick kiss, before the marchwarden released his fiancee, and watched as she carefully climbed into the same boat with Aragorn.

"Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrien,

Yéni úntimë ve rámar aldaron!

yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier

mi oromardi lisse-miruvóreva

Andúnë pella Vardo tellumar

nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni…"

(Alas! Like gold fall the leaves in the wind,

long years numberless as the wings of the trees! The long years have passed like swift draughts of the sweet mead in lofty halls beyond the West,beneath the vaults of Varda wherein the stars tremble in the song of her voice…)

"My gift for you, Legolas, is a bow of the Galadhrim, worthy of the skill of our woodland kin," Galadriel spoke when you sat safely within the boat with Legolas steadying you.

Ever since that fateful night, you had cautiously grown fond of him. Your smiles were less forced when around him, and your laughs were infectious. Love came hard for the elven, and when it did happen, it was an immortal kind. You patted his hand as the elven prince stared in awe of the beautifully gifted carved bow.

Galadriel smiled at his thanks, and turned to Merry and Pippin next. "These are the daggers of the Noldorin. They have already seen service in war."

Pippin seemed unsure of the weapon in his hand, almost trembling.

"Do not fear, young Peregrin Took. You will find your courage." The Lady of Light spoke with a gentle smile before turning to Sam. "And for you, Samwise Gamgee: Elven rope, made of hithlain."

"Thank you, my lady," He glanced sidelong at the blades held by Merry and Pippin, then looked up hopefully. "Have you run out of those nice, shiny daggers?"

Galadriel smiled at him, but turned to Gimli, who diverted his eyes downwards.

"And what gift would a Dwarf ask of the Elves?" Galadriel spoke, her golden hair shining beneath the poignant blues and whites and greens of the forest.

Nothing." He frowned as though he was changing his mind. "Except to look upon the Lady of the Galadhrim one last time, for she is more fair than all the jewels beneath the earth."

You grinned at his words, while the elf lady giggled. He turned away to face the front of the boat before looking back at her again.

"Actually, there was one thing , ah, agh, that's quite impossible. Stupid to ask."

Once his request was fulfilled, she next turned to Aragorn. There was silence for a moment. Branches shook, a spider web's glimmering strands swayed in the wind.

"I have nothing greater to give, than the gift you will bear. Take care of her well. She only has me left." She paused, looking out at the river. "But You have your own choice to make, Aragorn, to rise above the height of all your fathers since the days of Elendil, or to fall into darkness with all that is left of your kin."

He nodded.

"Namárië. Nadath nâ i moe cerich. Dan ú-'eveditham, Elessar." (Farewell. There is much you have yet to do. We shall not meet again, Elessar.)

Aragorn nodded once more, turning away. Galadriel turned to the last of the hobbits, and handed him a crystalline vessel shaped like a teardrop, filling with a clear water and a shining light.

"Farewell, Frodo Baggins. I give you the light of Eärendil, our most beloved star." and kissed him briefly on the forehead. "May it be a light for you, in dark places, when all other lights go out."

Next, she turned to Alena, who grinned up at her grandmother. "I too have nothing to give to you, as you have the greatest gift of all. Cherish it well, my granddaughter. I have taught you well, and I hope you may come out victorious."

You watched as Alena dipped her head, and spoke quietly in return. A tender smile appeared on Galadriel before she turned to the last member of the Fellowship.

You.

"And what will the daughter of the High Valars want?" She spoke within your mind.

"You know what I wish for," You spoke instead, watching her.

There was a moment before the elf lady acquiesced with a nod of her own. "You have my word, Y/N."

And drew out a compact compass. "For when you lose sight of yourself and of the Fellowship. I hope that this will guide you in the right direction."

"Thank you," You replied, reaching out to grasp it, half in awe.

"Rinn- safelui bar." (Return safely home.)

A paddle splashed loudly into the water. As the Fellowship rows through the river, past the Elves onshore, out onto the river, leaving Lórien behind. White mountains rise starkly beneath blue skies and green trees. In the boats, Gimli talks to Legolas.

"I have taken my worst wound at this parting, having looked my last upon that which is fairest. Haugh, henceforth I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me."

"What was it?" The elf smirked from behind you.

"I asked her for one hair from her golden head. She gave me three."

You smiled at the interaction, paddling along. Soon it didn't take long for Legolas to take over the owing. Before long, the Fellowship's boats passed through a canyon. Alena glanced worriedly at Frodo's boat across the water, as she gently rowed hers and Aragorn's boat.

"Frodo, look! The Argonath! Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old. My kin," Aragorn spoke, lifting his head, half-smiled and tapped Frodo on the shoulder.

Two, marble white, majestic statues proudly stood on each side of the Anduin. Their left arms held aloft, their palms facing outwards in a simple gesture of warning. Voices sang out softly in the light.

"Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta!'"

(Out of the Great Sea to Middle-Earth I am come. In this place I will abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world!)

"Beautiful statues," You commented, laying back comfortably as Legolas rowed. Alena from your left in agreement.

"They certainly are," The half elf replied.

It didn't take long for the group to disembark on a gravel beach, a spectacular roaring waterfall behind. Boromir looks troubled, as though he was fighting a conflict within him. Frodo skirted around the Captain of the White Tower, looking afraid.

"We cross the lake at nightfall. Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north," Aragorn spoke as he carried the items from each boat onto the shore.

Alena and Legolas left the makeshift camp to hunt for any nearby game. You and the hobbits started making camp, a little more cozier than just the dirt and sand for comfort.

"Oh, yes?! It's just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil? An impassable labyrinth of razor sharp rocks! And after that, it gets even better!" Gimli sarcastically replied, dragging the heavier weapons towards where Sam was forming rocks in a circle.

"Frodo, Merry, let us gather wood for the fire," Boromir beckoned the two hobbits away. Frodo's eyes locked onto yours briefly, and all you could recognize was the helplessness, the weight of the evil ring around his neck, and the fear, before he followed after the others.

You shook your head.

"Festering, stinking marshlands, far as the eye can see!" The dwarf continued, although half of the company was gone.

"That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf." Aragorn drawled.

"Recover my-?! Nooo."

"We could leave now," You suggested, interjecting into the conversation with a shrug.

"No. Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness." Aragorn argued with a matter of fact tone.

"It is not the eastern shore that worries me. A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near. I can feel it," Your gaze turned towards the dark pine woods, with a dark, brooding statue nestled amongst their needles. "We are not alone."

"Where's Frodo?" Merry piped up, returning with some wood in his arms.

“Didn't he go with you and Boromir?" You stood up, dusting the dirt off your knees.

"We got split up."

Aragorn turned his gaze toward Boromir's shield laying amongst the rest of his belongings. Then turned to you with that knowing look within his eyes.

Something bad was about to happen. Evil lurked around every crevice and corner.

You cursed loudly, sprinting after Alena and Legolas. Aragorn was hot on your heels, all the while calling for the two.

"Frodo?"

"Frodo!" Aragorn called from your right, rushing towards the hobbit. Before him was a high structure on the cliff edge, surrounded by the pines. A stairway ran up through its center, to a seat dwarfed by stone eagles on top.

You hurried to the other side of the hobbit, equally concerned. "Frodo, what happened? Where's Boromir?"

"Huh?! It has taken Boromir." The hobbit looked startled.

"Where is the Ring, Frodo?" You asked.

"Stay away!" The hobbit scrambled up and retreated from Aragorn, who went after him.

"Frodo, please," The Ranger pleaded. "I swore to protect you!"

"Can you protect me from yourself?!" The hobbit turned back to you and Aragorn, holding the ring upon his palm. "Would you destroy it?"

There was silence as the breeze blew. Slowly, the Ranger approached the hobbit, seemingly entranced by the power of it. You on the other hand, grounded your feet into the ground, refusing to let the evil sway your beliefs.

The power was small, compared to yours, but the promises within still affected you. A trial, you realized a little too late, to test your very being.

Aragorn reached out towards the Ring. With both hands slightly shaking, he closed Frodo's hand over the Ring and pushed it back towards the Hobbit's chest. "I would have gone with you to the end, into the very fires of Mordor."

"I know. Look after the others, especially Sam. He will not understand." He turned to you afterwards, and you nodded in turn.

Suddenly Aragorn straightened up, drawing his sword. "Orcs."

"Go, Frodo. Run." You grabbed your bow and an arrow. "Run!"

Quickly, you and the Ranger ran out from beneath the ruin and found a troop of Uruk-hai advancing.

Briefly, he tapped his sword once to his forehead before charging towards the nearest Uruk-hai.

You drew an arrow, and letting it go to see an Orc fell to it.

"Find the Halflings! Yaggh! Find the Halflings!" One of them chanted.

"Elendil!" Aragorn yelled, slicing two more out of his away.

In response, Legolas, Alena, and Gimli ran forward from behind the the ruin. As Legolas shot down several Uruk-hai, Gimli landed blows with his axe. While Alena sliced through multiple with her dual swords, you eagerly shot those that came too close to anyone.

Across the way, Merry and Pippin hid in a space under some fallen tree trunks, before spying Frodo close to them.

"Frodo!" Merry hissed, gaining the attention of the other hobbit.

"Hide here! Quick! Come on!" Pippin indicated a spot beside him.

Frodo glanced at them, then sadly shook his head.

"What's he doin', Merry?"

"He's leavin'."

"What?! No!" Pippin lept out of his spot and toward where Frodo hid.

"Pippin!"

Soon, both hobbits found themselves out in an open. Several Uruk-hai sprinted down the hill, towards them and brandishing their weapons, teeth bared.

"Run, Frodo! Go!" Merry quietly spoke, before cupping his hands, and shouts louder at the oncoming orcs. "Hey! Hey you! Over here!"

"Hey!"

"Over here!"

"This way!" Pippin jumped up and down, arms flailing around.

As both Hobbits ran away from Frodo, the Uruk-hai troops followed with a loud roar of anger. Taking the chance, Frodo made a break for it, running in the opposite direction.

Back at the hilltop, you, Alena, Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli continued to fight the Uruk-hai. In one smooth move, Legolas stabbed one Uruk with an arrow then shot it out at another. Gimli wielded his axe. As Aragorn stabbed one behind his back, Alena sliced cleanly through another.

In a hurry,, Merry and Pippin ran across an old stone bridge. At its far end, they stopped in horror as the Uruk-hai closed in, both in front and from behind. As an Uruk runs up to them, raising his battleaxe, Boromir came charging into the mix, roughly knocking the Uruk back, and killing him with his own axe.

Yet more closed in.

"There's too many!" You called, slicing the head off an orc cleanly off its shoulder. Before anyone could respond, three loud horn blasts were heard from down the slope.

"The horn of Gondor!"

"Boromir!"

Aragorn was the first to run down the slope towards the sound, but numerous Uruks stood between him and Boromir. The Captain sounded the Horn of Gondor again. This time, the Uruks rose their weapons, and charged at Boromir.

"Run, hobbits! Run!" He cried out, slicing through the first of many enemies that came at him. Soon you and the rest of the Fellowship followed in kind, shooting arrows and stabbing through the troops of Uruk-hai in a futile attempt to reach the Captain.

The captain of the Uruk-hai stepped forward from within the safety of his troops, and aimed a black-fletched bow and arrow before letting go.

You briefly closed your eyes, grimacing as you heard the gasp from Boromir, and the thud as he fell to his knees.

Merry stopped in mid-throw of a rock as Boromir, in shock. As the Uruks came closer again once more, Boromir let out a battle cry, rose, and swung his sword at one, who fell.

The Uruk chieftain growled, walking down the slope. He lifted his bow, and shot again, just as Boromir turned to look at him.

A black arrow flew into Boromir's stomach. He dropped to his knees again, gasping. Merry and Pippin still stood in shock, rocks in hand. You heard a scream from beside. Was it Alena?

He dropped his heavy head again, both gasping and panting at the exertion for air. Boromir stared at them for a moment before getting back up, and swung his sword at another Uruk.

The captain shot at him one last time, in the chest. Boromir fell to his knees, and this time stayed there, swaying a little and blinking, as though he was surprised that this was it. His horn cloven into two. Merry and Pippin watched him, aghast.

In turn, they took up their swords and attacked the Uruk-hai. "Ahgh!" "For Boromir!

However the Uruk-hai simply lifted them up and carried them off. Merry and Pippin waved their arms frantically. "Help! Help!!!"

The Uruk-hai troop walked away from Boromir, wholooksed on helplessly. The captain stopped before his foe, who defiantly swallowed and glared back.With an ugly snarl,the chieftain pulled his bow back, ready to deliver the final blow.

Instead, you and Legolas both let go of your arrows, one hitting the neck, and the other at the hand. Now angry that his arrow went awry, the Uruk-hai turned to you, not noticing Aragorn until it was too late.

As Aragorn closed in on the Orc and in a flurry of swordplay, sliced his arm off and then stabbed him through the chest. The captain pulled himself up on the sword, closer to Aragorn, snarling in both pain and anger.

You let go of your arrow, watching with narrowed eyes as it hit the forehead. Before the orc could respond, the Ranger pulled his sword out of the Orc, and hacked off the Uruk-hai's head.

Panting, you and the rest of the Fellowship lowered your weapons. After a brief pause, Aragorn beelined straight for Boromir. "No!"

"Go! Go after them. Aragorn and I will catch up," You turned to the rest, whom swiftly left. Save for Alena, who hesitated, before agreeing with a nod.

Boromir, pale and bloodied, laid on his back. Aragorn kneeled beside Boromir, who grabbed the other's shoulder. "They took the little ones."

"Be still."

"Frodo! Where is Frodo?"

"I let Frodo go."

"Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the Ring from him."

"The Ring is beyond our reach now."

"Forgive me. I did not see it. I have failed you all."

"No, Boromir, you fought bravely! You have kept your honor," You spoke instead, kneeling on the other side of him. Aragorn placed a hand on an arrow protruding from the captain.

"Leave it! It is over. The world of men will fall, and all will come to darkness; and my city to ruin."

"I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you I will not let the White City fall, nor our people fail!"

"Our people? Our people." He reached for his sword. Instead, you placed the hilt in his hand, and helped Boromir clasp it to his chest. "I would have followed you my Brother, my Captain, my King!"

You placed a hand on his chest, and smiled slightly at Aragorn. "Go on. I'll follow soon."

With a kiss on the captain's forehead, the Ranger straightened up, and followed in the direction after the others.

"Boromir, son of Denethor, Captain of the White Tower," You spoke quietly, grasping his hand in your other. "Listen to me very closely."

"Y/N?" He croaked in confusion.

You leaned into his ear. "You have fought bravely, honorably. For your friends, for your people, for your country, and for Middle Earth. You have done much to keep the peace, and I need someone like you in the future."

You paused.

"Sina na- vamme i tyelde, captain. Ni indóme cen- tye en-. Tenna i lú, phata hendulya ar n- at senda. Ni am i -iel -o i valaina manwë ar vesse varda. Let sina n-.

(This is not the end, captain. I will see you again. Until the time, close your eyes and be at peace. I am the daughter of the Valar Manwë and his wife Varda. Let this be.)

Boromir's eyes brightened up at the recognition, and looked more at peace atthe words, as though he was guilty for earlier. He squeezed your hand one more time with the last of his waning strength in agreement, before closing his eyes.

And took his last breath.

N- a captain an men. Yare dagor dagornath, tye are -esse maure, yondo -o denethor.

(Be a captain for men. When Dagor Dagornath, you are in need, son of Denethor.)

Eats Everything: @asraime @mournthewicked @aspiring-ginger

#legolas #prince legolas #legolas x oc #legolas x reader #legolas greenleaf #lord of the rings #lotr #lotr fanfic #tolkien #this is us #deb writes

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celsidebottom · 5 years ago

Note

“So, this is a tradition of yours this time of year?”

From this post

I am SO sorry that this took me like twelve years to do

Also, you didn’t specify characters, so have some Ed/Tjelvar enjoying the new year in an orc settlement!

Tjelvar looked over their ransacked campsite. The remaining supplies were strewn in everydirection and their tents had been sliced to bits by something with exceptionallylarge claws.

“Evil doer!” Ed shouted. “I will find the fiend responsible!”

“Eddie… it’s okay. Wewere all done here anyway. We’ll getmore supplies back at the University.”

Ed still had his sword drawn, glancing in every directionfor a trace of the beast that had destroyed their camp, and he only sheathed itwhen he felt the weight of Tjelvar’s hand on his arm.

“If you’re sure.”

Tjelvar nodded. He’dbeen sent back into the mountains for an archaeological dig, and Ed had invitedhimself along. Not that Tjelvar minded, ofcourse.

“But we’re a day’s walk from town,” Ed remarked, looking upat the setting sun. “Where are we goingto stay the night?”

Tjelvar scanned his memory and checked a map. “There’s an orc settlement near here. I have some distant relatives.”

“We should go see them!” Ed exclaimed, beaming.

“If Aunt Linnea finds out I was nearby and didn’t drop in…” Tjelvar shrugged. He bore his family no ill-will, even if hedidn’t often partake in the day-to-day affairs and events of orc life. For him, it was about the world’s history, andhe had to get out there and find it, not sing aggrandizing songs behind thick,wooden walls. “Probably our bestbet. Shall we?”

Tjelvar and Ed began to trek through the snow aftersalvaging what they could from their tattered campsite. The hike wouldn’t take them long and they weredue to get there just before nightfall.

Soon enough, with Ed excitedly telling Tjelvar about thetime during his Paladin training when he rescued a dog from the streets thatthen invaded the larder and ate everything it could get its paws on, thesettlement came into view.

“Halt!” A warysentinel called before they could get too close. “Who goes there?”

“I’m Tjelvar Stornsnasson? My aunt is your chieftain. Thishuman is with me, he’s trustworthy.” Notparticularly trustworthy with quietness or secrets, perhaps, but neither werein high demand among orcs.

The sentinel gasped. “Tjelvar! Oh, come in, come in! It’s been so long!”

As the great wooden doors swung open, an excited mass oforcs assembled to greet Tjelvar and this strange new human with grins andcheers. In some places, the walls thatprotected the settlement wouldn’t have been necessary; but with the unrulywildlife and brisk mountain wind, every little bit helped keep the danger andthe chill out.

“Tjelvar!”

“Tjelvar’s back!”

“Is it really him?”

Dozens of questions erupted from the horde when one orcpushed her way to the front and immediately pulled Tjelvar into anembrace.

“And here I thought you’d be too busy to drop in on us forthe Feast!” She cried as she heldTjelvar out so that she could look him over from head to toe. “You haven’t been eating enough,Tjelvar. We’ll fix that. And is that another scar? You’ve got to take better care of yourself.”

“I’ve been more careful of late,” Tjelvar admitted. He was just about to introduce Ed when AuntLinnea turned to him. The issues betweenhumans and orcs were long in the past, and he was a friend of Tjelvar’s, sothere was no fear of this stranger in their midst.

“Aunt Linnea, this is… my… uh…” He stuttered. “Edward Keystone.”

“I’m Tjelvar’s boyfriend! Wow! This place is amazing!” Ed cried.

The joy in the orcs’ eyes grew brighter with Ed’s words andLinnea spun back to face the crowd, shouting, “My nephew Tjelvar has returnedfor a visit! And he brought hisboyfriend with him! Let us prepare thema place to stay and set two more spaces at the table for the Feast!”

A great cheer rose up from the orcs, several of whom dartedoff to make the necessary preparations. The remainder swarmed around Tjelvar and Ed, pulling them into friendlyhugs while offering congratulatory and welcoming words.

As the pair was led through the settlement and towards a houseat the center, they caught sight of a circular pit fire, surrounded by tablesadorned with heaps of food. Bright,sparkling decorations hung from each house and every spare space.

Ed reached out for Tjelvar as they were pushed along andasked, “What’s with all the decorations?”

“Tonight must be the Feast of the Solstice.”

“So, this is a tradition of yours this time of year?”

“Oh, yes. Thecelebrations for moving into the new year will last for a week, at least.”

Ed’s eyes gleamed. “Wecan stay, right?”

Despite himself, Tjelvar laughed. How could he say no to Eddie? “We’ll stay for some of it, at least.”

“Yes!”

The throng of orcs dispersed somewhat as Ed and Tjelvar reachedthe house provided for them, and a distant relative Tjelvar could not rememberthe name of told them to get settled. Linneawould come get them when it was time for the Feast to start. Tjelvar tugged Ed inside the cabin before he couldwander off.

“Oh, come on, Tjelvar, there’s so much to see! And do! And friends to make!”

“At least come in and set down your things first?” He suggested. At his own insistence, Ed often carried most of their supplies and, evenif they currently weren’t weighed down with much of their camping equipment, hestill carried several finds of historical magnitude that Tjelvar wouldappreciate he didn’t lose or damage in his escapades around thesettlement.

He sighed. “Alright.” Dutifully, he deposited his things andremoved some of his armor to put on an extra layer of furs to help keep out thechilly evening air.

Tjelvar could feel Ed watching him across the space as hewithdrew a journal and began to make notes regarding their findings on the lastday of the dig, before their site was so rudely destroyed.

“Is everything okay?” Ed asked, moving to sit beside Tjelvar on the one bed that the housecontained.

“Yes, of course. Whydo you ask?”

“You don’t seem very happy to see your family.”

“Oh,” Tjelvar chuckled quietly to himself. “I’ve never been… a particularly orc-yorc. I prefer my books to people mosttimes, you know that. And my family is…very loud.” He let out anotherlaugh. “And now that Linnea knows I havea boyfriend, I’m never going to hear the end of it from my parents.”

Ed let out a heavy breath and looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“What, Eddie, no, it’s not you!” Tjelvar closed his book to turn entirelytoward Ed and take his hands in his own.

“I know I’m not… the best at, well, anything, but… I thoughtyou, of all people, weren’t ashamed of me.”

“Eddie… That’s notwhat I meant at all. I’m sorry. What I meant is that I planned for you tomeet my parents first. Now Linnea isgoing to write them letters, and then they’ll be upset that I didn’t tell themfirst, why haven’t they met you yet, when are we getting married, all ofthat. I am not ashamed ofyou. I love you, Eddie, I don’t care whoknows. I just wanted to tell people in aslightly different order.”

Ed smiled and looked up to meet Tjelvar’s intense gaze. “Really?”

“Of course.” Tjelvarleaned forward and pressed a kiss to Ed’s forehead. “It’s good we’re here now, though. The year’s end celebrations are all aboutspending time with family and looking forward to a new year with them, and you aremy family.”

The sparkle returned to Ed’s eyes and he smiled at Tjelvar, meltingaway any archaeological or familial concerns.

After a quiet moment, hands still intwined, with Tjelvarresting his head on Ed’s shoulder and nuzzling into him, Ed asked, “So, thisFeast thing… There’s going to be food, right? I mean, that’s what a feast is, but… I’m starving.”

Tjelvar laughed and leaned a little more into Ed’sside. “We’re orcs. Of course, there’s going to be food! More food than even you might be able to eat.”

“I knew I was going to like it here!”

#Anonymous #rqg #rusty quill gaming #edward keystone #tjelvar stornsnasson #stornsnasstone #thank you for the prompt!!!#I hope you like it!!#I'm sorry it took me ages

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scurvgirl · 6 years ago

Text

Saar

Qunlat - danger; dangerous

Previous | Masterlist | AO3

What? Two SoR updates within a week?? This is what happens when I don’t have work!

Interpretations of Falon’din and Elgar’nan belong to @feynites

Nimronyn (Memae), Sylmae (Mamae), Melarue, Merith, Henne’thel, Daern’thal belong to @justanartsysideblog

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“Asha’thylgar was lost due to Commander Zeal’s shortsightedness. He refused to listen to my council when I advised him to send for more reinforcements to ensure our position,” Certainty declares in front of his lord and the lord Elgar’nan. He has been punished for his failure to bring Asha’thylgar in to pay for her crimes, thoroughly punished. The wounds have only closed this morning after a healer was brought in to make him “meeting worthy”. His bones were mended, skin stitched back together. But it is his lord’s right to punish him, he failed. The loss of the Fear spirit also displeased Lord Falon’din, but all things can be repaired.

“Is this true, Zeal?” Elgar’nan asks, a halo of fire growing in size atop his head. Zeal pants, his hair and large swaths of skin have been burned from him - and not entirely from Elgar’nan either. Asha’thylgar’s keeper had torn through the camp with her flames and magic. Certainty now bore his own scar down his back from the fire. No matter, the scar will fuel him just as his Lord’s desire for Asha’thylgar.

“Certainty failed to express the seriousness of the solution -

“Enough of these excuses! Both of you FAILED! SPECTACULARLY!” Elgar’nan booms, rising from his throne. Falon’din remains on his, watching, blue eyes darting from Zeal to Certainty. His facade wavers for just a moment, giving Certainty a glimpse of the horror of his burned face.

Even with the burns, Certainty’s lord is more beautiful than any other person to have ever existed.

“My Lord,” Certainty says, falling to his knees in abject prostration, “It is my every privilege and love of life to serve you. Beat me, break me, and I will come back stronger and more dedicated to you than before. I will bring Asha’thylgar to you, I swear it with my very blood.” He trails a sharpened claw over his palm so that blood flows, binding him to his vow.

With extreme grace, Lord Falon’din rises from his repose.

“It is so difficult to find loyalty like yours, Certainty.” He runs a finger down Certainty’s face before raising his hand, pressing the finger into the blood. Certainty gasps but does not grimace at the pain. Relish in it, it is what the Lord wishes.

“Is what you say true? Is the failure to secure Asha’thylgar due to Zeal?” A heavy question and one that Certainty answers with ease.

“Yes.”

Falon’din straightens and turns to Zeal. His hand reaches out and secures around Zeal’s neck.

“FALON’DIN!” Elgar’nan shouts.

“I AM OWED!” Falon’din roars back as the life is pulled out of Zeal. Falon’din inhales as if he is breathing in Zeal’s life force. Perhaps he is, Certainty doesn’t know. What he does know is that Falon’din has granted him another chance.

And he will make the most of it. Asha’thylgar can elude him for only so long.

When Ash was a little girl, before her magic manifested, her and Mama had to cross the Frostback mountains into Ferelden. She doesn’t remember much from the trip other than it was bitterly cold. She clung to Mama the entire time inside of her cloak. She whined and cried about the cold. It felt like it was invading her body and there was nothing she could do. Inescapably cold.

On her seventeenth birthday, a volcano erupted from the magical torsion in the Fade that now merged fully with the waking world. The ash and soot shot up from the eruption blocked the sun. The next month was spent freezing and cut off from the main source of heat. She huddled with Uthvir, trying to stay warm. The cold only abated when the sky was set aflame and the end of the world was further hastened.

Ash has experienced cold. She knows it causes deep issues within her, even with her fire. Perhaps it is because of her fire that the cold affects her so much. She has experienced cold, and yet this chill is unlike all of the cold that has touched her.

This cold slips inside of her spine, wraps a hand around it as a voice whispers unknowable words in her ear. She feels the cold spread into her body, chasing the heat that normally courses through her body. Mamae shifts in discomfort while Ash grimaces in pain.

“Da’len?” Mamae asks and Ash waves her off. She is no stranger to pain.

“I don’t handle the cold well,” she says softly, “I’ll be fine.” Just as she says that, Nimronyn opens her mouth and golden fire spills out, blowing back due to their momentum. It curves over the barrier, chasing away the invading chill. Ash feels a hiss and pop where the cold had been leaching into her body. It slithers away, replaced by the familiar, comforting warmth of Memae’s fire.

Ash inhales and exhales a directed flame towards Memae in gratitude. The small blue flicker travels up and circles around Memae’s antlers before dissipating along her scales. She rumbles in affectionate acknowledgement that makes Ash smile briefly before turning her attention to the pulsating black mass of sucking energy. It pulls at Ash and a deep seated worry takes root.

Demons, Nanae once said, are corrupted spirits. They corrupt for a number of reasons, each one unique to that demon. Most corruptions are situational and dependent upon what the spirit embodied - a spirit of wisdom can turn to pride if its knowledge is never questioned, or if it remains in isolation, or perhaps if it decides that it can fix the world. They were fond of that analogy. Looking back, Ash understands why.

But this mass of negative energy is unlike anything she has ever encountered. Besides its massive size, the demon feels different. It should have been a Keeper, which...what could have happened to this spirit that was on the brink of turning into an immensely powerful being like a Keeper to turn it into...this? The idea terrifies her, but she also feels for it too. It must have been so horrible and traumatic to do this. As much as she fears the great beast before her, she can’t help but feel for it as well. A part of her recognizes that she could have easily been this - terrible and dark and lashing out in pain due to her trauma. It’s only because her adoptive mothers found her that she was able to work past it, to grow from her ashes instead of continuing to burn.

“Lock into formation to bolster the barrier!” A shout from another aravel interrupts Ash’s thoughts, making her realize they are about to breach the living darkness. It’s strange, for something so dangerous, it seems...so inviting.

Ash brings her spear forward, holding onto it so that her thumbs run over specific runes for barrier creation. She forces her magic into the spear then out to join the many others also lending their strength for the barrier. Their combined magic sets into a lattice pattern over the existing barrier, reinforcing it just as they breach the darkness.

It is not like nightfall, there is no gradual loss of light. It is a sudden, all encompassing void that leaves Ash temporarily blind as her eyes adjust.

Chanting reaches her ears then several small lights materialize inside the barrier around the aravels. Those not lending their strength to the barrier are lighting the way, she realizes, or at least keeping a light so that everyone can see what is happening.

What Ash first saw as one giant entity becomes clearer as really a mass of negative energy and spirits, colliding and separating in chaotic fashion. Their forms split then reform, and they scream as they hurtle through space so fast they nearly shatter. Several of the spirits, lesser demons, she recognizes as Rage and Despair, careen towards the barrier at breakneck speeds. They do not slow and shatter themselves upon the barrier.

“What is this?” Ash asks in disbelieving horror.

“Keepers cannot corrupt once they are corporeal, but they can corrupt still as spirits. It’s a delicate time. When what was corrupted into Desolation, it created a nexus of negative magical energies - spirits that came into contact with it are twisted and trapped. Turned into unwilling demons that further feed Desolation’s own power.” Sylmae’s voice is low and harsh but it does not escape Ash’s notice that there is concern there. She doesn’t imagine it is for Desolation per se, but more for Nimronyn.

Ash’s brow furrows. Spirits can be such delicate things with their natures. A tip in the wrong direction and they can corrupt or even shatter. Those that become Keepers are old and strong, true, but that fear of corruption...it stays, doesn’t it? Does Mamae fear Memae will corrupt still with all the fighting?

Worse, could it happen? Is that what the madness is? The Keepers corrupting as they go against their natures?

Unwilling to continue this line of thinking, Ash directs her attention to the swirling mass of demons. More shatter upon impact of the barrier as they continue to fly in deeper. While the barrier keeps the lesser demons out, she can hear them. Screaming spirits who assume misshapen faces that press against the barrier before they crack and shatter, begging for help. Poor, lost spirits sucked into Desolation’s pit.

Ash hazards a glance up and nearly loses formation with the barrier. While the barrier is keeping all the aravels and those within it safe, the Keepers are left exposed. The demons crash into Memae, screaming and clawing at her. Fire flies across her scales, chasing them off but only more replace those that fall off or shatter. She shakes her head, the talismans hanging from her antlers jerking around as she somehow continues her steady flight.

“Mamae!” Ash cries but Sylmae is already gone, leaping onto aravels and scaling them so she can get to Memae.

“Hold your position!” She shouts down to Ash as she climbs, one hand propelling her upwards while the other holds tightly to her weapon. Ash takes a deep breath and locks herself back into position, pushing more energy into the barrier. Her fire skitters across the lattice work, shattering several more lesser demons. She glances up to see Mamae leaping into the air and breaching the barrier to grab hold of Memae’s foot. Ash keeps herself from hollering in victory as Sylmae begins to swing demons and spirits off of Memae. She clambers up onto Memae’s back properly and the hammer begins to swing in full arcs, felling multiple demons with each swing.

The barrier rocks and Ash nearly stumbles, her gaze going down as she rights herself. Merith is fairing no better than Memae, worse actually. A cloud of green tinged air surrounds him that Ash recognizes as poison but poison does so little to those without bodies. Ash is about to call for someone to help him when a flash of black of fire barrels past her only to land on the aravel below hers.

Melarue. They are shrouded in a black flame as they leap from aravel to aravel, weapon raised high. It is a spear-like thing, their weapon, with a wicked blade attached resembles the end of a sword at one end. They launch themselves down to Merith and disappear into a sea of black.

Fear pulses through Ash. Has she lost them again? Only having just found them? They have not reconciled or -

There! She seems them! An incredibly fast figure battling the dark back with their own black fire. It wraps around the demons, yanking them from Merith and tossing them into the barrier. Their weapon glints by the light provided by the barrier as they carve into the demons. They are fast and meticulous as they clean Merith of the clawing fiends.

Reassured, Ash returns her focus to the barrier. It is becoming more difficult to maintain as more and more demons throw themselves against it. Each hit drains it just a bit more. How long can they keep this up? There is no end in sight of this horrid place, and if anything, it is getting worse.

The demons stop shattering upon impact and instead begin to wail upon the barrier, ghostly talons and fangs and wings ripping into it. She funnels another burst of fire into it, but it does little to stem the tide. Few demons die from it, none shatter.

“We need more power!” She shouts over the roars of the Keepers and the screams of the demons.

“From where?!” Henne’thel shouts back to her from her central aravel.

From where, indeed. She racks her brain, thinking…

“Blood!”

“Are you insane! The demons draw power from that!” Henne’thel shouts, clearly straining as she carriers the bulk of the barrier.

“So can we! If you can hold it, I can send out a pulse of fire to get us through!”

“Are you sure!”

“Yes!”

“Then fucking do it!” Henne’thel screams.

“Letting the barrier go,” Ash yells before she steps back. Immediately the weight shifts off her and Henne’thel groans loudly, a draconic sound as she takes on more of the barrier. Only for a moment, Ash reminds herself, grabbing the knife from her belt.

Taking a deep breath, Ash slices her palm and begins to recite a spell her nanae taught her.

“I didn’t know you had fire!”

“It’s a Fade Fire, da’len, now pay attention.”

She harnesses the memory and the spell inside of her. The power concentrates in her palm, a hot white sphere she guides to her spear. Carefully, she eases the spear forward just so that the tip reaches outside of the barrier.

Using all the force inside her body, she forces that sphere of power out through her spear.

It explodes from her and the spear into the inky air. A blazing white supernova tinged red with her blood. Magic shots from her and blazes through the demons in an arc surrounding barrier. It A great pulse of fiery magic that sends the demons up in smoke or flying from them in terror.

Drained and needing to catch her breath, Ash stumbles back, her spear retreating from the outside.

“Good, Ash! Now back in formation!” Henne’thel calls. Right, she has to help. With a groan and a set determination that is not so easily overwhelmed, Ash rises to her feet and resumes the position. Her magic joins the others to hold the barrier together. The shift is painful but quick, locking her into the system again.

A glance down shows that her burst of fire helped Melarue as well. They need only shove off the remains of demons from Merith’s hide. There are wounds all over Merith’s body that they quickly set to bandaging. A glance upward reveals a similar scene for Memae, but she seems to be in a better position overall. There is less blood sliding down her sides and there are no large wounds. Relief courses through Ash. They will survive this, this is only the trial before the promised land - quite literally.

The journey to Skyhold had been fraught as well. Haven had never been a secure location, which had only been exploited by the Red Templars lead by a mad, Blighted Corypheus who knew far more than they ever gave him credit for. She had nearly lost her mama that day to the avalanche she caused. Nanae had to carry her, screaming and crying to not leave Mama behind, away from the battle.

It was over a week before he had taken them to Skyhold, and even longer clearing the rubble to make it somewhat livable. For all its faults, Skyhold had been amazing. It was big enough for an army and defensible. In the end, it fell because he knew it so well.

This land they are traveling to is unknown to their enemies. It is far, far from the empire and from anyone that would interfere with their growth and resistance. It may not be entirely true, but when all you have is hope, you have to hope hard to get through the worst of it. Right now, speeding through a maelstrom of demons with only a barrier maintained by a couple dozen people, she needs all the hope she can get.

A great quake shakes Ash from her thoughts and pulls her attention to her surroundings once more. The darkness around them opens up, keening as it is pulled into a singular nexus below them.

“She’s here!” Henne’thel yells and Ash knows - they approach Desolation.

Another quake rocks the barrier and the Keepers grumble with discontent and worry. The shadows move, twining up over the barrier - long tentacles curving over the sphere. Magical weight presses against Ash, making her grunt at the strain. She’s pulling them down, Ash realizes. Or at least she is attempting to pull them. Memae hisses and her wings snap more quickly. All at once, fire chases the shadowy tendrils, snapping much of their hold. Nimronyn roars once more and begins to ascend. Merith issues a replying roar and follows Nimronyn. The aravels rock at the sudden direction shift, but Ash and the others hold fast, maintaining the barrier.

They fly high, up, up to escape the reaching tentacles when a roar shakes the world around them and a great mass smashes into the barrier. Unable to withstand the sudden onslaught, the barrier shatters.

When Fear saw an opportunity to escape Certainty and his lackeys, it took it. The night Asha’thylgar attacked, its cage was damaged, allowing it to shrink into the tiniest form it could then scurry away in frantic escape. It ran even as it knew that the chances for capture were high. It ran and ran and flew so much and so fast that it wasn’t until days later that it realized that no one had come after it.

It had stopped, looked around - no one was pursuing it.

Fear was...free?

Unsure of what to do with this newfound freedom, Fear continued to fly. To put more distance between it and the empire, just to be safe. It could be wrong, after all, they could be pursuing it and just biding their time. Fear wasn’t going to risk it.

It flew and flew until it felt her. As soon as it felt her, it tried to turn in the other direction, but like a fish caught in a whirlpool, struggle was futile. Little Fear was sent into the mass of Desolation. It was all it could do to keep from the other demons caught in her storm. It was flung through the air, ricocheting off of spikes in power and abnormalities in the Dreaming. It tried to escape, over and over again, to no avail. The pull was too strong.

Soon, it found itself being pulled into the nexus, spiraling down...down…

Chaos erupts with the shattered barrier. The once carefully held aravels go spinning, their magicks no longer tethered to each other. Ash’s aravel spins and careens downwards, a shadowy tendril shooting up and grasping her aravel.

“No!” She shouts, stabbing her spear into the tentacle and sending forth her fire. It screams and sizzles but holds fast.

“Fuck off!” She summons a white hot whip of fire and slams it into the tendril. It screeches and blessedly releases its hold. Before Ash can set to righting the aravel, three more tendrils shoot up. They seize the aravel and begin to tear it to shreds in its anger. Ash springs into action, summoning as much fire as she dares to fight the tendrils. But as she fights, she cannot right the quickly descending aravel. And if she rights the aravel, it gets torn apart. It very well may be torn apart anyways.

A roar of draconic pain catches her ear before she can decide anything. Her head automatically snaps up to see shadowed tentacles wrapping around Merith’s body, pulling him down. Melarue stands upon him, slashing and burning the tentacles but there are too many, Merith is too grand of a target -

Decided, Ash backs up to the hull of the aravel and angles her spear downward. Focusing on the Dreaming and the will to go, she sets the spear ablaze. The thrust is immediate and the aravel speeds through the air, wrenching itself free of the tendrils. The sail is shredded and the cabin has been opened to the world but she is ascending and it’s holding, that’s all that matters.

She directs the aravel close to a thick tentacle then whips her spear around while continuing the strong blaze of fire. It slams into the tentacle and she forces the fire down it, severing it and its hold on Merith. One down. She looks for and finds another tentacle, wrapped around Merith’s back leg. Melarue is fighting one that keeps trying to secure his neck -

Ash goes for the one on the leg, quickly attacking and severing it so she can take aim for the other tentacle. She sends a blast of fire farther down the tentacle, severing it. Melarue untangles it from Merith’s neck, then runs along his back to hack at more of the tendrils now trying to widen his wounds.

“For fuck’s sake,” Ash groans, casting fire as close to Merith as she dares. Her aravel rocks and starts to descend once more. Shit. She can’t keep the aravel up and fight the damned tentacles at the same time.

Somehow sensing her conflict, Melarue turns from their task for the briefest moment, “Let it go! Get up here!” They shout. Shit. Ash backs up only to run and leap across the space between the aravel and Merith.

For a brief moment, she feels the pull of gravity and wonders if she won’t make it - only to collide with Merith’s paw. Holding fat, Ash clambers up to his back to aid Melarue in ridding the Keeper of his assailants. She sweeps her spear down across his flank, slicing into a tentacle. It begins to writhe so she sets it aflame. Black fire joins hers for a moment then redirects to another tentacle, engulfing it.

Black and blue flames dance over Merith’s scales, and together they manage to push the tentacles far enough off to allow him to fly upward to rejoin the others. Ash doesn’t dare look up to see what is going on, lest she be distracted from the task at hand, but she hears another dragon’s roar and knows that Henne’thel must have taken on her draconic shape.

Ash and Melarue are on their knees as Merith’s ascends, looking for some stability even as they sweep their weapons down and out to the still reaching tentacles. They’re back to back, fighting, not unlike how she always pictured her nanae and mama fighting together - closing rifts and dispatching Red Templars.

A tentacle whips out and smacks Melarue hard enough to send them sprawling. They grunt and slide down Merith’s hide.

“No!” Ash shouts and lunges, stretching herself so that she straddles Merith’s spine as she reaches for and grabs Melarue’s hand. She grimaces at the stretch, but she has them, she’s not losing them. “Climb up me, I can’t pull you up!” She grinds out and they set to pulling themselves back to Merith’s steady back over Ash’s body. They pull and tug but it’s over quickly as they settle themselves back onto Merith.

“Thank you,” they breathe. She nods, still regaining her breath and trying not to pay too much attention to the aching stretch in her side and groin. She reaches out and touches their arm in acknowledgement.

The tentacles amazingly recede into the darkness below, allowing Merith to fly even faster. They’re so close to rejoining the others, and with the tentacles gone, Ash looks up.

Nimronyn and Henne’thel have managed to gather most of the aravels back between them, a new haphazard barrier surrounding them all. Sylmae is still astride Nimronyn, fighting off tentacles herself. Daern’thal of all people sits atop Henne’thel, but instead of fighting the tentacles, he seems to be casting what looks to be wide nets to pull in stray aravels.

She rests a hand on Merith, feeling his pain and determination to reach the rest of the clans. They just need to get through this and then he can rest. She suspects the other Keepers will need to rest as well.

Ash is contemplating how much farther they have to go to escape Desolation when she feels it. A great magical pull that snaps her attention to in front of Merith’s head. The biggest tentacle yet shoots up from the dark, larger than any of the Keepers and arcs down, too fast for Merith to dodge -

The tentacle slams into Merith. Ash is thrown violently from his back and she screams, unable to hold onto her spear. She flies through the air, accelerating downward into the darkness while Merith roars and Melarue yells. Everything is moving so fast, it’s hard to keep track of where she is and where the others are -

A wing clips her, redirecting her right into Melarue.

She smashes into them with a broken scream. The base of her right horn collides right into their face and she feels more than hears the snap of their nose breaking. They clutch at each other, trying to hold onto something sturdy even as they plummet.

“Stop! Stop!” Ash cries, moving her grasp to their hands. “Force fire out of your feet!” She screams, their position shifting until they are falling belly first. Dammit, wrong position. Ash tries to reangle herself so that they’re falling feet-first. Her and Melarue both strain for the feat, and once in that position - fire!

They don’t stop plummeting right away, the fire while being forced down, comes up around them in a swirling mass of black and blue. Purple eyes meet bright silver ones and for a moment, she feels so close to death’s doorstep she swears she is finally going to cross over. She could curse it. How long has she thrown herself carelessly towards death? How often has she come so close, waiting to be reunited with her family, only to live? And now that she wants to live, she dies?

The universe can fucking suck it, she decides, and forces more power out of herself until there is nothing left. The fire burns brighter and brighter until it is no longer black and blue but black and white that surrounds them - and then it doesn’t surround them, but propels them up!

Melarue smiles and even with the blood running down their face, they look so much like her nanae in that moment it makes her heart ache and spurr her to continue the flame. She, they, can do this. Together.

“Not sssooo fasssssst!” A thunderous voice echoes around them. All light save for her white flames flash out, leaving them in the dark. In a breath, what feels like a great hand seizes Melarue and Ash and forces them down. Ash’s concentration breaks and her fire goes out. They fall, fall -

Stop.

The sudden cease of falling jars them, jerking them back until it is like they are on their knees on the ground, looking up -

To the face of a monster.

Her glowing orange eyes are the size of aravels, peering down at them in hated curiosity. Shades and other demons trapped from her nexus make up the rest of her “face”, writhing and opening their own eyes to gaze upon Ash and Melarue. In hope? In fear?

“You daaaare enter my realm!”

“We mean only to pass through,” Melarue says.

“Ssssilenccce!” Desolation booms. “You will not take them from me! They are MINE!” A shade detaches itself from Desolation’s face and launches itself at Melarue, claws extended. She can see them struggle and know from her own immobility they cannot move -

“Stop! Please! It...It was my idea to come through here!” She shouts and the Shade stops just short of Melarue before turning its attention to her, its eyes burning orange. It slinks toward her, growling low.

“Ashokara!”

“Shut up!” She hisses back to Melarue even as they glower and fight against their restraints.

“Whyyy?” Desolation hisses, “You can’t have them!”

“You were going to be Keeper, right? You weren’t always like this,” Ash says, “when I heard that, I thought how could someone so great fall so far? What happened to you? Who, what hurt you?”

“Ssshut up!” She screams.

Ash continues, “You lost them, didn’t you? They were taken from you, the people you were meant to Keep. They were taken from you!”

“ENOUGH!” Desolation quakes with power and the Shade leaps forward, wrapping its claws around Ash’s throat. She gasps and feels its darkness slip into her mind.

“You’re all mine, now! Mine!” She wants Ash’s memories? She can have them!

Ash opens her mind like a book and remembers her world, burning and dying all around her. She remembers running from a collapsing Skyhold, an explosion taking her mama and then her nanae. She remembers having to let Aili go to plummet to her death. She remembers Uthvir’s shout for her to run as they twisted themselves into a more monstrous version of themselves. She remembers how the corruption overwhelmed even them. She lets Desolation see and feel it all.

“WHAT IS THISSSSSS?” Desolation wails. It’s only when Ash opens her eyes does she realize she had closed them. To her amazed horror, her memories play in the clouds of darkness around her. Not just the world burning though, but precious memories of Nanae tucking her into bed, reading to her. Mama singing to her as they walked along a flowering path in Orlais. Uthvir showing her how to properly hold a spear and stealing apple cakes from the kitchens with Aili. Krem giving her a soft dragon plush that has purple eyes just like hers. Dorian reading magical texts aloud to her because she always struggled with the words.

Mama and Nanae coming home and sweeping her into a hug, telling her they love her.

Love and heartbreak paint each memory and Desolation seems...enthralled by them.

“I lost them all too,” Ash says quietly, “because someone thought they knew how to fix the world and destroyed it instead. I lost...everyone I loved. I wanted to die for a long time, to see them again.” Desolation shifts so that her face is mere inches from Ash’s.

“Why didn’t you?” The question is softer than the screams from before and asked so...earnestly. It makes Ash’s heart hurt - this creature is not so different from her, is she?

“Some amazing people showed me it’s possible to love again. I still love all of them, and I love new people - as long as I am alive...I can love, and I can grow. And so can you.”

Desolation...blinks and the orange gives way to a soft blue. The demons still. One falls off, then another, and another. Or they’re released, Ash doesn’t know, all she knows is that Desolation isn’t what she seems. All this pain, all this rage - she is the product of what something did to her and she survived the only way she knew how.

“Who were you?” Ash asks, “what happened to you?”

Instead of replying, new memories begin to play around them. A beautiful, verdant field stretches out before them and in it rests a clan with a truly radiant Keeper. Their scales are an iridescent shade of green and instead of horns, two large frills crown their head and run the entire length of their serpentine body. She knows somehow that they were Patience, a softer spirit that took the form of a Keeper many, many years ago. She sees another spirit, a beautiful blue spirit of...Love. And Love loved the clan so much, she loved this Keeper too. As time stretched on, she grew more powerful and Patience waited for her while she gained enough power to become a Keeper herself. A clan with two Keepers - it was always the goal, and they were so close.

The memories swirl and rage and despair taint the images. A foreign force with no Keeper arrived, two elves astride harts approached Patience. Elves Ash recognize as Mythal and Elgar’nan, though younger and not nearly as powerful as she knows them. They brought Patience to talks under the guise of peace and then...slaughtered them. When their people railed against this, they too were slaughtered.

Love...lost everything, lost their love, lost what tethered her to the world. She felt her power was immense and so she laid waste to the Empire’s camp, she burned it and with each soul she took, she corrupted further and further. She wanted to shatter, she wanted to break, but couldn’t. So she flung herself to this far corner of the Dreaming to wallow, corrupting further and further until she didn’t recognize herself.

“You will always love them, you will always be Love,” Ash says to her, “they will always remember you as Love.” Testing the boundaries, Ash attempts to move her arm and finds she can. With her limited mobility, she reaches up and touches Desolation’s face that is now just shadow with the demons having fled.

A corrupted spirit cannot revert back to what it was previously, but it can change into something new, something...different. Desolation closes its eyes for the last time...to open them as Hope. Ash smiles, tears rolling down her face. That is always the first step, isn’t it? Hoping to move forward.

The darkness slowly dissipates and Hope’s form shifts from shadows to a sheer dark blue. Her hands come up under Ash and Melarue and they rise.

Nimronyn is diving and flying as fast she can when Ash spies her. “Memae!” She calls and Forgiveness turns, holding Ash and Melarue out to the searching Keeper.

Memae turns just as fast as she can, her jaw opening to release fire -

“Memae, no! She’s different now!” Ash calls, waving for her to stop. Her mouth doesn’t close but it doesn’t open any more than it already is. She stops just short of colliding with Hope’s face. The two stare at each other while Mamae leans down and helps Ash and Melarue to Memae’s back.

“Come quickly. Vhenan, we need to go, Merith can’t hold it for long,” Mamae says in Nimronyn’s ear. Clearly not happy about it, Memae turns and flies back to the aravels.

Ash, feeling the exhaustion and relief in equal measures flow through her, turns to look back at Hope. She winks and mimes blowing a kiss, but when she blows, a great magical wind catches them all. Ash yips in surprise to find them flying through the Dreaming - her, Memae, the aravels, Henne’thel, Merith, everyone - until they are at the edge of where they were to exit Desolation’s realm.

Memae works her wings quickly to orient herself.

“What did you do?” Mamae asks bewildered, staring at Ash.

Before Ash can say anything, Melarue answers, “She helped the spirit, who just helped us, it seems.”

They then take a moment to look around them. The sky is a brilliant shade of indigo, the land below is catching the dying sunlight but there is enough for Ash to know where they are.

“Glittering wildflowers,” she murmurs.

They made it. They’re home.

#my writing #seeker of rebellion au #ashokara #nimronyn #sylmae #melarue #merith #henne'thel #daern'thal #elgar'nan #falon'din #fear #fic

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croatian-magician · 6 years ago

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Cold waters (part 1)

Pairings: Sejan, Rakidric, hints of Mario x Domo

Summary: All his life, young merman Šime was told to stay close to the reef and to his home, far away from the dangerous mersharks wandering in deep waters. But because of his recklessness, he gets caught in a storm and ends up far from his land, only to be rescued by a mysterious stranger.

Word count: 2857

Notes: Just your usual mermaid AU

Šime was busy exploring a wreck ship, swimming happily and humming the tone of Marica. The bag at his side was already full with human cutlery that he would take the time to examine back home. They would be great to use as accessories when he was singing, for sure!

Above him, the sun was slowly starting to disappear, but the young merman didn’t notice. His friend Luka had told him a thousand times not to wander outside late at night, though, but Šime was too caught up in his task to realize it was getting dark.

Night was a dangerous time for his kind. Mersharks roamed the sea looking for preys and easily attacked imprudent mermen, seeing them as concurrence for fish hunting. But Šime was fed up with everyone telling him to worry about mersharks when he had never encountered one in his life. For all he knew, maybe they were just an old legend used to scare reckless young mermen such as himself so they would be nice and go to bed early.

Still, as darkness fell upon the sea, he didn’t feel as confident as before and was considering heading his way back home. But at the very same moment, he spotted a chest laying in the sand, a few feet away from the ship. Its lock shone brightly, just begging to be open, and Šime just couldn’t resist the temptation.

He decided to have a look, swearing to himself that he would go back to the safety of the reef once he checked what was in it.

Opening it was a real hassle, though, and Šime struggled a lot before he managed to pick on the lock with one of the forks he had found earlier in the boat. He opened the heavy lid of the chest, only to find old papers ruined by time and water. The merman sighed, disappointed, but he soon had something more important to worry about when the waves around him grew more violent all of a sudden.

He tried to escape and to hide behind some rocks, but the storm was too strong. He was engulfed back into the current as he cried for help, even though he knew his whole family was certainly asleep in the safety of their home by now. Šime cursed himself for his imprudence as the current carried him away, towards deeper, more dangerous waters.

Suddenly, a huge rock crashed on his tail and he let out a cry of pain. He found himself stuck in the middle of the storm and he started to panic, knowing that he could die buried under other debris. He thrashed around, trying to free himself from the stone, but to no avail. He sobbed in pain as the efforts teared his fin apart, red blood soiling the waters near him.

Despite his hurting, he tried to move the stone away once more but didn’t get any results. He was starting to despair when he saw a vague silhouette getting closer to him. Suddenly, his hopes rose up. This had to be Luka or Domo! His friends surely noticed his absence at nightfall and now they were coming to his rescue!

Another powerful wave hit Šime in the face, and he was forced to close his eyes so no sand would get caught in them. When he opened them again, he found himself staring at a stranger. The other mer was close enough to touch him, his eyebrows furrowed in worry. So not Luka and Domo, then. But at this point, Šime would gladly welcome any kind of help.

“You must get out of here or you won’t survive that storm!” The man yelled at him.

“I can’t! My tail is trapped under a rock!”

The stranger looked down and grimaced at what he saw.

“Shit. Try to stay still and I’ll remove it.”

“Did you see the size of that thing? You’ll never be strong enough! Please, go and find some help, I beg of you.”

But the man didn’t listen. Facing the currents, he dived so he could grip at the rock. Šime held his breath. Even though he knew such an exploit was impossible, he still felt the desire to root for that strange, charming mer.

He yelped in pain as the rock started to move, but it soon faded as the stone was removed from his tail. However, he didn’t spend long marveling at the strength of his savior because the moment his fin was free, his blood started to spill into the water at an alarming rate. Šime felt dizzy as he prayed the underwater gods that no shark or even worse, mershark would catch onto his scent.

“Thank you, I’m going to go back at the reef now, before the weather gets too bad.”

“Are you out of your mind? You’ll never make it out alive, not with that injury! You can barely swim and the reef’s too far away anyway. Just hold onto me, I know a place where we’ll be safe!”

Šime wanted to protest, because he was pretty sure there was no safe place so far into mershark territory, but his state didn’t really leave him any choice to argue. The stranger was right, he could barely move his tail without crying in pain. So he nodded and wrapped his arms around his savior’s neck as the man lifted him up.

“Alright. Now no matter what happens, just don’t let go, okay?”

Before Šime could agree, the man started to swim through the maelstrom. The merman shivered in fear as the whole sea seemed to spin around them. He hid his face against his savior’s neck and closed his eyes so he wouldn’t get sick. It was still a frightening ride as the sea roared in his ears and slapped his face. More debris hit them, but they managed to make it to calmer waters. Only then Šime allowed himself to breathe again.

“You alright?” The other mer asked.

“Yeah, a little shaken, but it could be worse. Thanks for saving me, I thought I would die in there. The name’s Šime by the way.”

“Dejan.” His savior introduced himself. “Don’t worry, we’re getting close to the cove I told you about. I’ll take care of your injury once we get there.”

Šime should have been more worried about a complete stranger taking him to a closeted space, but Dejan’s presence reassured him. He relaxed against him even though he tried to stay awake despite his blood loss. They quickly entered a small cave linked to a few underwater tunnels. Dejan carefully laid him down on a small couch made of fabric coming from the human world. Šime smiled. So Dejan shared his passion for the above world, too.

“Thank you so much, I owe you my life. If a mershark had found me before you did… I don’t even want to think about it. How can I repay y-”

Šime lost his voice as he looked properly at Dejan for the first time. He didn’t realize it sooner, but because of the storm, he didn’t get a good view of Dejan’s body past his waist. But now, He could do nothing but stare at his shark tail as it moved from right to left. As he paid more attention to his savior’s appearance, he also noticed that his eyes were dark, too dark too be those of a merman. Šime would bet his teeth were sharper, too.

“Wait, you are… Did you take me here so you could kill me easily? Or do you plan to feed me to one of your pet sharks?”

Šime’s whole body shook as he shivered in fear, curling up as far away from Dejan as he could. He knew he was vulnerable. With his hurt tail, he couldn’t even try to run away. He was about to break into sobs when Dejan knelt next to him.

“Oh no, don’t panic, please. I have no intention of harming you in any way, I promise. I have no idea what you’ve been told, but we -mersharks- we don’t do those kinds of things anymore. We strayed from the old barbaric ways a long time ago. I just want to help, I swear.”

The young merman stayed cautious, but the sincerity in Dejan’s voice troubled him. Mersharks were strong, he had witnessed it earlier when he freed him from the rock. He was almost sure Dejan could have broken his neck easily while he was carrying him out of the storm. So maybe he could trust him. Not that he had another choice, though.

“So you won’t feed me to your sharks?” He asked in a small voice.

Dejan laughed softly at his question, shaking his head.

“Of course not. To be honest, they hate the taste of mermen. Our ancestors had to train them really hard so they would attack your kind, during the old wars. So don’t worry, I think the sharks living here would rather eat seaweed than you. But talking of seaweed, we still need to bandage that wound of yours. Can you let me do that? I’ll need to get close to you for that.”

Šime understood that from the moment he discovered Dejan was a mershark, his savior had made sure to leave him some personal place so he wouldn’t panic. The attention moved something in him and he struggled more and more to associate Dejan with the tales of blood-thirsty mersharks he was taught as a kid.

“Yeah, no problem, go ahead.”

He tried to sound confident, but fear still slipped through his voice. Dejan nodded and gathered some seaweed growing in the cave. Then he sat next to Šime to examine his injury. In order to do so, he moved the merman’s tail so he would get a better view of the wounded area. Šime’s heart raced at feeling of his warm hands wandering on his scales and he tried to convince himself he was only reacting out of fear, and not because Dejan looked devilishly handsome.

“Damn, it’s even worse than I thought. Just putting seaweed on it won’t be enough. You need to see a healer.”

“Really? It hurts, but not that bad.”

Šime rose up so he could get a better look at his injury, but he paled the moment he took a glimpse of it. The base of his tail was almost split in two in the middle and some of his bones were showing through the wound. The sight made him nauseous and he started to panic.

“There’s so much blood… Oh no, what if I can never swim again? I should have listened to Luka, exploring that wreck was the worst idea ever!”

Šime flinched when Dejan put an arm around his shoulder. The mershark looked pained, but he stayed calm.

“I’ll do everything I can to help you, I promise. We just have to wait for the end of the storm here. Just stay strong until then, okay? I’ll try to stop the hemorrhage for now.”

The merman nodded his agreement and Dejan started to work on his injury. However, Šime soon started to feel himself doze off. He tried his best to stay awake, but he was tired, so tired. His eyes closed on his own and Dejan’s voice became nothing more than a far away sound.

“No, stay with me! Šime, please! Šime!”

The merman noted the desperation in Dejan’s voice, but he felt too far away to do anything about it. A second later, sleep engulfed him completely.

“You’re an idiot and a fool! You’re putting us all in danger!”

“Then what did you want me to do, Mario? Let him die?”

Šime groaned when he came to his senses to the sound of yelling. His whole body hurt and he suffered from a painful headache. When he tried to open his eyes, his vision was still blurry, so he decided to lie down and try to understand what was going on.

“He’s a merman, Dejan! It won’t take long before his friends start looking for him and if they find him here, what do you think will happen? They’ll come here to eradicate us all!”

“Calm down, both of you. You’ll argue about what to do with the merman later. He’s waking up.”

“Šime. His name is Šime.” Dejan corrected, but that didn’t keep him from rushing to the merman’s side.

Šime heard his footsteps getting closer and he tried to open his eyes again when Dejan put a hand on his arm. This time, his sight was good enough to make up the contours of the mershark’s face.

“Hey, are you alright? You frightened me, back in the cave. Thought I would lose you.”

“What… Where I am?”

He blinked a few times, until he got a better view of his surroundings. Once it was done, he started to panic when he realized that he was surrounded by four mersharks. He jumped in fear and tried to run away, but his tail refused to respond to his commands. One of the mersharks, the tallest of the group, rushed towards him.

“No, don’t move! Your tail is still anesthetized, you’ll only hurt yourself.”

That didn’t help to calm him down, not until Dejan trapped his face in between his big hands and forced Šime to look at him.

“I know you’re freaking out, but please listen to Čarli’s advise. He’s the healer I told you about, remember? He tended to your wounds. There’s no need to be frightened, we’re here to help you, I promise.”

“Speak for yourself, Dejan. I still believe we should get rid of him as soon as possible.”

“Stay out of this, Mario, or I swear I will fight you!”

“Come on, then. I’m ready to beat your ass any time.”

“Stop it, you two. We won’t solve this problem by fighting among ourselves.” The fourth mershark intervened, stepping between Mario and Dejan to keep them apart from each other.

“Very well, then what do you suggest we do, Ivan? Wait for the mermen to come and find us?”

“I didn’t say I knew how to handle this. What I know, however, is that we definitely will get into trouble with mermen if we kill one of their kind.”

“Who talked of killing him ourselves? We should just throw him out of here, let him find his way to his land on his own.”

“Are you out of your mind? If we do that, he’ll die from his injuries, if humans don’t capture him first!” Dejan shouted.

“Yeah, that’s the idea. We would get rid of him and those bastards from the reef wouldn’t hold us responsible for his death.”

“That’s it, Mario. Enough is enough. We’re not going to kill anyone here. Now we should give our guest here some space. He must be confused enough already.”

For a second, Šime feared the angry mershark would attack this Ivan, but he turned around, although rage was still radiating from him.

“Fine, do as you wish, but don’t come crying when the mermen will come for us!” He yelled before swimming away.

Ivan sighed and followed him, maybe to reason him. The healer decided to do the same, leaving Šime and Dejan alone.

“Please don’t mind Mario. He’s a good guy, I swear, he’s only trying to protect us.”

Despite Dejan’s efforts, Šime stayed skeptical. He could barely move and hated the idea of being trapped with mersharks who could kill him at any moment. However, a strange, warm feeling blossomed in his chest when Dejan pulled him a bit closer to him, worry in his eyes.

“Say something, please. I know you must be startled by all this, but…”

“What do you want me to say? I’m far from my home, and I’m hurt, and I’m scared, and your friend want to kill me, and…”

Without warning, Šime broke into sobs. He wanted to hear his friends’ voices again, wanted to hear Luka ranting about how he should me more prudent, wanted to fall victim to one of Domo’s pranks again, wanted to feel safe knowing Suba was here to have his back if something went wrong…

But he wasn’t home, he was in mershark territory and his only ally there was a man he just met.

“Oh no, don’t cry! Everything we’ll be alright, don’t worry. I’ll protect you, I promise. No one will hurt you. Not under my guard. Just rest for now, okay?”

Maybe it was foolish, but something told Šime he could trust Dejan. So he held onto him, crying his heart out as the mershark whispered words of comfort in his ear.

The mershark called Vedran, the healer, came back to Šime a little later to announce to him that he wouldn’t be able to swim for a while, the time for his fin to recover completely. But the merman could have guessed that on his own. He was slowly regaining feeling in his tail, even though he wished he didn’t. The pain was almost unbearable and he felt like crying once more.

Taglist: @arduango @slashandsports @mad-for-mandzukic @lovre-n @mamaopal @pachua @marilyn-mandzukic @sebby-ravnica @smolmandzo @ed-dzeko @synne-sol @kettie09 @sejan-is-love @puolendollarinonni @winters-chiid @flemishyugotalian @ante-ray-bitch @mandzukics @mandzos-bitch @tinymodric @zadarskabagudina @domo-no-domo-yes @mrsmodric @lovefor-lovren @lovren-la-vida-luka

#sejan #sime vrsaljko #dejan lovren #croatia nt #football slash #mermaid au

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oh-meow-swirls · 2 years ago

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love the first yo-kai watch anime theme song. makes no sense n i love it. it really do just be like GERA GERA PO, GERA GERA PO, GERA GERA PO, GERA GERA PO, SIT BACK, HERE'S THEIR STORY, NATE SAY "HEY YO NO", WHISPER GO, CRACKA-LACKA-BOOM-BOOM, THERE'S MORE YO-KAI THAN TATERS IN IDAHO LIKE CHEEKSQUEEK AND HIS POPO (smth smth fidgephant makes you need a quick commode smth smth) OH MY LOST FRIEND, WHO CARES FOR HIM, A HOME IS WHAT HE SO NEEDS, KIDS IN THIS TOWN, THEY HAVE FAMILY, HE WANTS THAT SAFETY, WITH NIGHTFALL COMES GREAT DANGER AND THINGS GO FROM STRANGE, TO SO MUCH STRANGER, GERA GERA PO, GERA GERA PO (yeah), GERA GERA PO, GERA GERA (yeah) PO-

#puppy rambles #yo-kai watch #this is off the top of my head #i've never forgotten it

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kingfisherbones · 4 years ago

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Gera Gera Po Gera Gera Po Whoo!

Gera Gera Po Gera Gera Po C'mon!

So sit back here's their story

Nate say "Hey yo no!"

Whisper go cracka-lacka-boom-boom!

There's more Yo-kai than taters in Idaho

Like Cheeksqueek and his popo!

Feel that there, way down low?

Fidgephant makes you need a quick commode

All this Gera Po, turn back the clock yo!

Ha ha! See what we can see

Oh my lost friend, who cares for him?

A home is what he so needs

Kids in this town, they have family

He wants that safety

With nightfall comes great danger

And things go from strange, to so much stranger!

Gera Gera Po Gera Gera Po Yeah!

Gera Gera Po Gera Gera Po It's easy come on!

Those Yo-kai, make life awry

Cause he's got, Ha ha that Yo-kai...

Yo-kai Watch!

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catboyfurby · 2 years ago

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Oh my lost friend, who cares for him? A home is what he so needs

Kids in this town, they have family, he wants that safety

With nightfall comes great danger and things go from strange, to so much stranger

man I could blast gera gera po on the aux cord if it weren't for the rap part

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ka-za-ri · 7 years ago

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Hegemone (Gladiolus x FemOC)

Genre: Slice of life Rating: SFW Pairing: Gladiolus x FemOC Wordcount: 2,232 Suggested Listening: Prayer -- M:a.ture Tagging: @itshaejinju @sweetchocobae @r-e-g-a-l-i-a @interitusrot @desperateauboise (WHY WON’T IT LET ME TAG U???) @cagedbycravings @roses-and-oceans @kanekeii (Omg u too???)

Notes: YEAH. More character studies. This is probably going to be a series for all of the chocobros and possibly Nyx... and maaaaybe Cor??? depending on how crazy my muse gets lol. Noctis will most probably be next if I keep this up. As usual, no beta in sight for experiemental stuff.

Hegemone (Ἡγεμόνη) was a Greek goddess of plants, specifically making them bloom and bear fruit. According to Pausanias, Hegemone was a name given by the Athenians to one of the Graces.

Gladiolus Amicitia knew full well the weight of duty and bloodline. His life was bound and tied to the ink which wrapped around his arms and held his back. He, of all people knew how heavy a burden responsibility truly was. He was reminded of this load he bore daily by the ferocious, glaring bird which graced his chest and spread throughout his body. Gladiolus, the name itself spoke of gentleness, a flower, almost unfitting for him. Gladio, there, that name was much stronger to him, it spoke of warriors and grand fights to the death. Gladio Amicitia was built from his lineage and shackled by a duty he did not ask for.

What weakness he did have he hid behind a cheeky grin and gruff laugh. A shield should not, could not, show cracks for a future king. Though, shield he may be, he was as human as they all were. A temper boiled within him that at times, couldn't be held back. As such, Gladiolus found himself camping often. The outdoors and vast open sky let him breath and listen to the sound of his own heartbeat. The call of animals in the distance let him believe that as bound by duty as he was, he was still just another cog in the great world. He was a large man, but still, he was infinitesimally small in the grand scheme of the world.

During his trips camping, Gladiolus discovered the precious beauty in succulents. He related to them in a way. There was a sense of responsibility they had about themselves that drew him in. The way that Fibonacci ruled, dictated, bound them by their duty to numbers to become the geometric beauties that they had reminded him of the structure and responsibility that he bore as a shield.

Often, people were at awe whenever they saw the overflowing pot filled with echeveria and peyote blooms that sat in his room. They reflected him well, simple and hardy, low maintenance and bound by laws beyond control. Many times, he found himself apologizing to them in the event he forgot to water them for an extended period. Always, they would forgive him, for they too, understood the weight of his duty.

His temperament would often get him into trouble. "Remain calm." They'd tell him. "You've got to work on your temper." They'd chide. "This will get you in trouble someday." They'd say as if he didn't know full well what sort of havoc his short fuse could bring about. He couldn't change this about himself, try as best as he could, he could never find the patience in him to see clearly before everything went red. "Staying calm" just wasn't in his dictionary, and as much as they tried to push this additional responsibility to him, he refused it with all his might as it just another way for them to take his sense of self away from him.

His escape from the burden of life became words. Immersed in books, he could forget who he was born to be and he could find a momentary sense of peace from it all. However, even sometimes, the books became too loud for him and in the end, he sought solace in being alone with nothing more than the sounds of the wild about him. The crackle of a cheerful fire under the grand void of stars was sometimes all he needed to feel the weight on his shoulders melt away.

A routine, lonesome camping trip was the first time he encountered a goddess. Within his brief exchange with her, he truly felt and understood what it meant when the distance of the stars was too close.

It was a good thing that the spring had been relatively mild and rain hadn't made the ground too soft and wet. It was best during these times for him to feel the dirt underneath his shoes as he hiked up the mountain, taking the well-worn path, he knew would lead him to his preferred campsite. His journey was always planned when he went camping, his goal always in mind and he rarely ever strayed from the paths he had long memorized. Gladiolus never brought music with him when he went out alone. The sound of scampering creatures and songbirds accompanied by the stream nearby was enough to keep his ears entertained.

So, when he heard someone whistling past the sound of rustling leaves, he was sure he was hallucinating.

Framed by budding spring foliage, shoes thrown to the side, she tiptoed barefoot amongst the dead leaves and branches on the ground, drawing shapes with her toes only she understood the meaning of. The hem of her dress was smeared with dirt, and she shamelessly dusted more onto as she felt was needed. Lost in her own head and ignoring the world around her, she danced to a tune she had long memorized from a forgotten lullaby that was centuries old. Intrigued, Gladiolus found himself leaning against a nearby tree to watch her as she gracefully moved to a tune unknown to anyone but to herself.

Her whistles sometimes melted into soft humming as she plucked leaves from the trees to weave into her hair. They became a halo greenery which dipped and ducked into wild strands of her hair while the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across her cheeks from her eyelashes. Her languid movements and leisurely movements smelled of bamboo blossoms drenched in summer rain and honey.

He lost track of how long he had been staring, until eventually she turned to greet him when she noticed she wasn't alone.

"Why hello there, stranger! Not often you get people camping this time of the year!"

"And why wouldn't it be the time of the year for camping?" He asked, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. She hardly looked like she was even prepared to do any camping herself with her thin dress and bare feet.

"Bears are waking up from their hibernation, y'know." She warned in hushed tones while she took a good look at him. She never kept still enough for him to catch more than a brief whiff of her scent which reminded him of fresh rain and sun brewed tea. "And a handsome guy like you probably doesn't want to get eaten by bears."

He let out a loud, hearty laugh at her statement. "I don't know if I should be the one who's afraid of bears, what about you? You don't look like you're equipped to handle them yourself."

"I have a house I visit every now and then little ways from here. So, I'll be perfectly safe." She shrugged pointing in the direction her home was before standing on tiptoe to reach just past his shoulder and grab at a leaf that caught her fancy. "My job takes me lots of places so I can't come back here as much as I like."

"Is that so? What do you do?"

"I'm an agrologist. I get to do all the fun dirty work!" She explained with a giggle.

How he wished he could bottle that sound that bubbled from her lips to listen to when the sky was dark and his burden was too heavy to hold. Again, he was back to watching her gentle movements as the sun set and the dappled light danced with her to a tune he could only wish he could follow.

"So, do you usually come out to camp when it's dangerous out?"

"I go camping when I feel like it." Gladiolus explained with a shrug. Realizing that this indeed was not a figment of his imagination, he took it upon himself to put his gear down and strike conversation with her.

"Ooh, tough guy." She teased, sitting herself down on a tree stump and lazily picked at the rotting bark at the edge of her makeshift seat. "Something about it makes you feel alive or something deep and meaningful like that?"

He didn't want to admit to her that she was right. That the more treacherous times of the year were what he looked forward to the most. There was a strange sort of recklessness that came over him during this time of year that he craved. It satiated his temper and let him feel a little less responsible for his own life.

"I'll take your silence as a yes then." She grins. "Well, don't mind me! You can go on your merry way and do that manly camping thing that you do!"

Before he could give her much more of an answer, she had already left his line of sight and fluttered to a different spot, enamored by something else. Part of him wished it that she would keep her attention on him. But, he was too enraptured by her motions, her aura and the old folk songs she hummed. He found that he didn't mind doing anything other than watching her go about her way while the shadows became longer and the setting sun lit the forest ablaze with reds and oranges between softy rustling leaves.

Perhaps it was the way she didn't have a care in the world that made his heart flutter. Or maybe it was the way she cradled the soil in her hands and whispered encouragement to it that made him realize that she truly was a goddess of the little things in life. He wasn't hallucinating and this was a moment too real for him to grasp in his own hands.

"Shouldn't you be heading over to your campsite soon? It's going to be nightfall before you make it, and daemons are scarier than bears."

"Ah... Yeah. It was nice meeting you?"

"Likewise!" She grinned, plucking a leaf she had saved in her hair and placing it precariously behind his ear. "For good luck, and a safe journey." She said with a wink before picking up her discarded shoes and flouncing off, following a path that only she knew. As brief as their meeting was, Gladiolus was sure that she was the kind of person who never followed any beaten trails to get to her destination.

He made it to his preferred campsite barely in time as night set in. As peaceful as he found his trips out to the wilderness, his meeting with her had left him yearning for something more in his life. He envied her, her freedom, her ethereal movements, all of it. She was created from stardust and long forgotten fairy tales filled with happy endings. Whereas he was built from blood and forged in steel and ink. The leaf she presented him itched at his skin, reminding him of everything he could not have. Try as he might to throw it into his campfire as extra kindling, he couldn't bring himself to destroy the only artifact he had of her existence.

Instead, he gently tucked it into the pages of his book, pressing and preserving her memory for as long as he could.

That night, he slept restlessly, his dreams haunted by the sounds of daemons in the distance and the soft whistling of a song older than the world.

Taking the worn path back down to civilization would have been the easiest and quickest route. However, the day after his meeting, Gladiolus let his feet wander off the dirt road and in the general direction she had pointed her place to be. I should at least get her name...

The soft spring soil dipped easily under his weight as he followed nothing but his internal compass and instinct. It's got to be somewhere this way. That's where she pointed... The further and further he delved into the forest, the more he began to doubt his sense of direction. It wasn't until the sun had long passed its midday point when he found an inkling of his destination. There, tucked neatly in the densest part of the forest was a tiny hovel of a home.

There's no way...

Approaching it, Gladiolus was certain that no one lived there, but his tracking senses told him otherwise. Disturbed earth and the traces of footsteps told him that someone truly had been there previously. The closer he got, the more he saw how overrun with greenery the house was. Even the windows had the snaking tendrils of vines covering it. He let out a long, loud laugh when he saw that the nameplate in front of the house which would have told him about the family who lived there had long been rusted out and made illegible from time.

"I'm going crazy... I really am."

If that was the case, then perhaps one day, when the stars were finally far enough apart and his books were filled with leaves the color of the setting sun, he'd be willing to take that journey to find her again. He’d look for her and try to remember what it's like to live life without responsibilities. Gladiolus Amicitia was born into duty and bound by ink and steel. However, he always brought the memory of the onetime his heart felt free in the form of leaves pressed into the pages of his favorite novel, sticky with the residue of crushed succulents.

#Gladiolus x femoc #gladiolus amicitia #FFXV imagines #FFXV scenarios #my writing #freeform as fuck

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5hfanfiction · 8 years ago

Text

Where My Heart Takes Me

Chapter 1

The first thing Camila recognizes when she wakes up is movement. They are moving. Whoever is carrying her definitely has a destination in her mind.

She remembers what happened last night and earlier in the morning, and moves her head away from the shoulder of the stranger realizing the sun is shining higher. Her person’s been carrying her for too long.

She tries to get down and notices she’s not being carried while walking. Instead, they’re inside another carriage. Although not as polished as the one she hired from Roger, this one seems comfortable, with old but soft-looking red seat cushions and backrest, the wood not the same material as she’s used to but thick and neat nonetheless, the drapes made of thick light blue cloth.

“You’re awake,” a voice says from atop her head.

She turns her head to look and sees the face of her person for the first time. Bright green eyes greeted her, with intensity she hasn’t encountered before. She has long and thick eyelashes, raven black hair, pointed nose, and red kissable lips.

She chastises herself internally for thinking that about this woman. No need for inappropriate thoughts. She helped her, for heaven’s sake.

She thinks the right thing to do is to get out from her lap so that’s what she does.

“Er, sorry. I didn’t mean to sleep so long,” she says, now seated on the seat infront of the stranger, her hands clasped in her lap feeling ashamed.

“That’s alright.” The lady replies.

“I was so shaken, my body must have resorted to sleep to recover from the shock,” she explains further.

“What happened to you?” Asks the woman with the green eyes.

“We were mugged by thieves.”

The lady doesn’t reply. As if she already knows before she said it.

“Better be careful next time. You don’t know what can happen again. Or if you’ll be as lucky.”

“That’s exactly what they said to me.”

The lady stared out of the window for a few seconds before looking back at her again. “Weren’t you ..”

Camila frowned.

“Did they assault you? Sexually?”

“No, no!” She clarifies immediately. “I thank God for that. They thought I was a boy. I was wearing my cap.” Upon mentioning it, her eyes wander around the carriage looking for the garment. She feels some satisfaction when she sees it, on top of her clothes. She lets out a small smile.

“Thank you for picking me up from that place.”

“If you were in my position, you would do the same.”

Camila doesn’t answer to confirm the lady’s declaration. She doesn’t say that it’s her first time to come down that road that’s notorious for pirates like the ones she encountered last night. That she will have never gone down there if it was just any normal travel that she, as Lady Karla, was taking. Her father has always made sure they travel using the safest roads, no matter if it means a day longer spent sitting inside the suffocating confines of their carriage.

“But you didn’t have to do that. You could have chosen to pay no mind. I could easily be one of those thieves,” she says instead.

The green eyes infront of her sends a penetrating look at her. Like telling her the thought didn’t cross her mind, or she’s crazy for thinking about that to her own self.

The woman suddenly shifts her skirt a little, gets off her seat and kneels infront of her, right hand reaching toward her.

Camila watches, not sure what to make of the action until her shirt is being lifted up, warm hand caressing her stomach. It takes a few seconds when she realizes that she doesn’t feel the entire hand of this stranger in her skin, just the tip of one finger. She looks down and sees two palm-sized leaves pressed on her stomach.

The lady lifts half of one before pressing it back on her. “When I found you on the road you were clutching your stomach so I tried to take a look. These should help fade the bruises fast.”

“Thank you so much. I’ll repay you somehow someday.”

The woman goes back to her seat.

“Just stay out of trouble next time.”

The stranger goes back to looking outside. She doesn’t know but this unknown person seems to really pay interest in what she’s seeing outside. She has this pensive look that seems to concoct stories from the trees, the mountains and the grass. Like she sees them the way she sees the great pianists she likes watching perform and share their music.

Camila has never really paid that much attention to the travel before. She’s more focused on the destination, when she will let herself be and let loose and feel in her new surroundings.

She stops contemplating on this stranger’s actions and focuses on a more nagging question.

“Where are we going?” She voices out.

The lady turns her head back to her and answers, “Yes, about that. I have to meet someone by nightfall on the next town. I don’t have time to bring you back to where you’re from today but I can – ”

Camila doesn’t let her finish. “No, that’s quite alright. Very much, actually. You don’t have to bring me back anywhere.”

If the stranger has been paying half of her attention to her earlier, she earned all of it upon saying those words. The forehead above those green eyes creased into a frown. “What do you mean? You don’t expect me to drop you off in a strange place after seeing you in that condition, do you?”

“Oh, no, no,” Camila denies. “Just take me wherever you’re going?”

The raven-haired obviously gets even more confused.

“I can be your maidservant, your coachwoman, anything.” She says out of desperation, not quite taking into consideration that she’s never done any form of servant work before, having been privileged enough to always have someone in her beck and call.

The woman rests her back on the couch straighter, throws her left leg over her right and crosses her forearms. “Alright. Out with it. Who are you? What are you running away from?”

Right then, it dawns on Camila that the lady infront of her is intimidating. She didn’t see it rightaway since the only fact that registered to her is she is her savior, like a knight in shining armor minus the armor and sword-wielding enemies, but she isn’t as gentle as she initially believed.

It doesn’t give her the uneasy feeling of fear though, just the type that brings the truth out of her even if she doesn’t want to.

“I’m Karla Camila Cabello,” she finds herself confessing.

“And?” The green-eyed girl prods.

“I’m from London. My father is Alejandro. My mother is Sinu. I have a little sister named Sofia.”

The raven-haired huffs out a breath. “Don’t beat around the bush. You know that’s not what I’m asking.”

“I’m the daughter of an earl. And last night, I ran away.” She summarizes.

“Great. I have a literal damsel in distress in my care.”

Camila internally crumbles at the woman’s intense stare. She lets her head down. She feels like a small child caught by her mother doing something prohibited. Although there’s nothing wrong with trying to create a life for herself.

“If you lived the life I have there, you’d do the same,” she retorts defensively.

Wrong move. The stranger’s scowl deepens, obviously not finding Camila’s circumstances very appealing.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be harsh.” She immediately apologizes, looking back up.

The lady has turned towards the window once again.

“The thieves took all of my money. But I don’t want to go back.” She continues.

There’s no response.

“I won’t be just another mouth to feed. I’ll work for you.”

Still silence.

“I can – ”

“Stop,” the woman interrupts her. “I’ve had enough chitchat for today. You talk too much.”

‘I angered her,’ Camila thinks to herself. So she lets the matter rest, entertaining herself with the view of trees and mountains outside.

___

Lauren has ordered Steve to head directly to the inn handled by her good friend, Louis, by sundown. So now they have finished eating in silence, Camila dining with them. She is still yet to decide if she will believe her, because none of the things she heard from the brunette’s mouth sounded real. Things like that, they’re only heard in bedtime stories or at pubs, told by people that create tales for their own benefit. She finds it hard to believe it happens in real life.

The brown-eyed girl seems harmless enough, judging by the bruises she has and the way she seemed to curb when Lauren tried to pry the “truth” from her earlier. So she lets her travel with them. She seems to be desperate to get away. From what, Lauren cannot understand yet. But twenty years of hard life had turned her into a very good judge of character so she knows there’s no real danger in bringing her with them. When they get back to her homeland though, then that will be the time she’ll decide if Camila is going to stay for good or if she’ll let her go find a place for herself somewhere else.

Once she has settled Camila on the room that they’re going to share, business is doing quite well but not well enough to afford separate bedrooms for each of them every night, she walks out to the back of the building to talk to the person she went there for.

She stands just outside the back porch, the light from the lamps illuminating her and a few feet of yard infront of her.

A couple minutes pass and the silhouette of a man appears from the cluster of trees.

She isn’t that thrilled to see him so she makes sure they conduct their business fast enough. After a little talk and things transferred from one hand to the other, she bids him goodbye.

The man with the blonde hair doesn’t leave right away though, instead gives her that familiar smirk she hates.

“Are ye sure yer not up for a li'l fancy hump in one of those rooms eh?” The man quirks his eyebrow suggestively.

“You know that’s never going to happen, Kelly.” She immediately turns him down.

“Eh, but a man’s gotta try.”

“Shut up. Just leave.” Right then, she sees a curious face by the window moving the drapes to the side to look outside.

Kelly hasn’t seen her as he’s standing with his back from the porch and Lauren intends to keep it that way, so she nudges him one more time to leave. Whether she believes Camila or not, the brunette has this innocent, untouched aura in her that doesn’t seem to belong with the blemished persona of the man infront of her.

“Just leave, Kelly.” The man finally relents and she goes back inside, green meeting brown eyes.

“Who is that you’re talking to?” Camila asks her.

“No one. Just somebody I needed to talk to. Why aren’t you asleep yet?” Lauren questions back to the girl.

“I couldn’t sleep. And I wanted to see around this place.”

The raven-haired lady doesn’t think there’s much to see since it’s one of the cheapest inns on town and only has eight bedrooms but she doesn’t voice that out.

“And I didn’t catch your name,” Camila adds.

“I’m Lauren.”

The brunette smiles. “Lauren.”

She walks into their room, Camila following her, and locks the door. She retrieves a fresh set of clothes from her bag and changes. When she finishes and turns back around, she finds Camila sitting on the edge of the bed, with cheeks the color of crimson.

“Sorry, I’m not used to sharing the room with someone else. I didn’t know that would make you feel uncomfortable.” Lauren apologizes.

“No, it’s alright. I should be the one to apologize. I - I’ve caused too much inconvenience to you already.”

Lauren is pretty sure she’s told her enough times today that she doesn’t see helping her as an inconvenience so she doesn’t reply. She picks up the extra cot Louis lent her and lays it on the floor.

As she’s settling down to get to sleep, she notices the herbal leaves she put on Camila’s stomach earlier resting on the small table beside the bed.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

“Fine.”

That’s not the answer she expects. So she moves closer to her, kneeling for the second time that day, to check on her abdomen. She removed the leaves earlier when they were about to enter the town, knowing that her bruises are likely to heal soon without any danger of worsening but she wants to make sure.

When she lifts the white shirt the brunette changed into, touches the bruises and asks if it still feels painful, Camila blushes before answering a little. Lauren chalks it up to her being uncomfortable around strangers, and satisfied that her abdomen will be fine without the herb, she moves to lie down on her cot.

“Am I not the one who should be sleeping there?” The brown-eyed asks.

“It’s okay,” Lauren turns to her side to finally sleep when she remembers something. She didn’t mention it to Camila earlier, fearing she’s still in shock of whatever happened to her but she felt she owed it to the girl to tell her.

She gets up and sits before saying, “I saw a man during the morning. When you were still asleep.”

That catches Camila’s attention.

“Steve stopped to take a look at him. He was lying on the ground, just like how I found you. I thought maybe I could help him, too, but he’s already gone when we arrived.”

Camila opens her mouth in worry and upset after hearing her news. “What does he look like?”

“Short man. A little taller than me. Brown hair. Balding.”

At that, the brunette’s eyes fill with tears. “Oh, God. Roger.”

Lauren moves to give the other lady a comforting hug. “Did the robbers take him away with them?”

“No. They left us. They mobbed Roger and took our carriage but they left us. I thought he was going to be okay. He walked away without me because he said it’s safer. I thought he’s going to be okay.” Camila rambles.

In all of her words, the one that resonates most is that this man left Camila in the forest in the middle of the night to find safety for himself. The bastard deserves what happened to him.

Lauren rubs her hand behind her back to comfort her. She doesn’t know this girl. Aside from her name, she’s basically clueless to who she really is, except for that sob story she still doesn’t believe that Camila told her. But upon learning what she went through the night before, that she’s so desperately wanting to escape from something in her past, something in her tells her she should not let this lady out of her sight. So right then Lauren decides she’s going to take her back to her home in Scotland, give her a job, and help her build a new life.

*** A/N This is the real chapter 1. I decided to change the first one to a prologue because the phase does not match to the story I have in mind. Anyways, I hope it delivers.

And thank you to those who gave their feedbacks. It makes me happy knowing people read and enjoy what I write.

I’m gonna enjoy this weekend but will be writing a little. Maybe another update on Monday. Not sure. Keep safe! xx Wattpad: litaddict02

#UPDATE #series #AU #camren #romance fluff #submission #Where My Heart Takes Me

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