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simplysimpingsimp · 3 years

Note

Hey! This is the person who requested the sleeping recovery scenario. It turned out perfect!!! Your writing is literally amazing!!!

I hope you don't mind another request but I can't get the idea of Zenitsu's partner becoming a demon slayer because of him out of my head. I think a drabble would fit well so how about Zenitsu's reaction to his partner (still they/them) coming back from final selection only to find out that being by his side was the main reason they joined the corps.

Thank you in advance and don't make sure to take care of yourself!

Hiya again Anon!! Ahh I’m so glad you enjoyed your previous request and I’m so happy to hear another request from you <3 your kind words mean so much to me :,D I really like this prompt ! So you definitely shall have this !! As always I’m super sorry for any mistakes, I will gladly go back and fix them!!

🌻—————————————————————🌻

🌻𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚈𝚘𝚞

🌻𝚉𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚞 𝚡 𝙶𝚗!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

🌻𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜: 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢/𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖

🌻⚠︎︎⚠︎︎⚠︎︎𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝚆: 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍⚠︎︎⚠︎︎⚠︎︎

🌻—————————————————————🌻

“Zenitsu,

Can you believe that it’s been nearly 2 years since we were last together? It’s almost time for me to go through the final selection! I know you’re probably screaming right now or even pacing around wherever you may be at the thought of me facing something dangerous but I feel like I could do it! I’ve been training under a man named Urokodaki Sakonji, Tanjiro might have told you about him before. Though he had some hesitations at the start, I think I won him over hehe! Anyway, I’ll be going through the final section in about a week. I know I’ll be okay, so don’t worry too hard about me, okay? I love you Zeni and I’ll see you soon, I promise.

Yours, Y/n.”

The fated week had passed since he had gotten the parchment with their name signed in the same fancy way they always did and the signature f/c ribbon that held the folds of the paper in a neat square and a small dried and pressed branch of wisteria together.

Zenitsu felt it in his heart that they had reached the wisteria surrounded location. For the next seven nights and days, he prayed for their safety and for them to just survive, hoping that they wouldn’t die attempting to be a hero to someone who wouldn’t do the same for them. When he would lay in bed, he caught himself gripping onto the ribbon attached to the parchment and the small wooden charm they gave him before they began their search for someone who could train them, murmuring all his wishes and prayers for them onto the material gifts as if they had any say in Y/n’s safety.

He knew he didn’t have to worry so hard yet he couldn’t help it. His heart yearned for their return and their loving embrace again, to be able to hear their heartbeat again, to make up for that lost time.

Every night he would be on the brink of tears as nightmare filled dreams invaded the usual happy dreams he had of a peaceful life with Y/n where they would frolic happily in fields of clover and daises and he would make them adorable crowns and jewelry from the cream toned clovers. Picturing their smiling face and that loving pink hue that painted their cheeks when they would look at him filled the void in his heart and arms.

His nightmares distorted that image, often portraying their face beaten and bloodied as they took their final breaths with a demon hovering above them preparing to devour them. In those dreams he would feel himself running towards them yet he never moved forward seemingly stuck in place, his arms desperately reaching out for them but he could never reach them. He’d wake up in cold sweats with a chill running down his spine, longingly looking to his side where Y/n would usually be.

Morning came, with the sun rising and the gentle coo of birds alerting passerbies of the morning sun and hour of the day.

Zenitsu anxiously paced the wooden home they had been staying in near Urokodaki’s home where Y/n would arrive if they survived.

His steps resounded against the looming silence and anxious atmosphere of the building as his hands gripped the parchment a crow had delivered him two weeks ago.

What if they didn’t come back? What if they had lost a battle? What if they were injured and no one helped them? What would he even do with himself knowing that he couldn’t save them? All were questions he asked himself repeatedly, sabotaging any glimmer of hope and calmness he had.

He had been told that only 6 came back from the final selection, but no one ever described who was among them. Panicked, he gripped his hair as he almost screamed from the sheer overwhelming thoughts filling his head of news of their death and the idea of never being able to hold them much less see them again.

“Calm down Zenitsu,” Tanjiro’s voice was soft as he placed a hand on his shoulder, “You know they’re a fighter. I’m sure they’ll be back soon.” Tanjiro’s smile was reassuring yet Zenitsu couldn’t help but worry.

“You’re right, you’re right, thank you Tanjiro..” the blond’s voice was soft as he returned a worried smile to Tanjiro.

“Let’s head over to Urokodaki-San’s, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind us waiting over there,” Tanjiro spoke as Zenitsu nodded with tears in his eyes.

᪥᪥

Exhausted, they trudged along the dirt path leading to Urokodaki’s home. Their sandaled feet dragged up dirt clouds that stained their f/c hakama pants. A white satchel around them carrying their new demon slayer uniform.

“So heavy..” they frowned lightly as they weakly gripped onto the strap of the satchel. It had been so long since they felt the level of exhaustion they felt.

Everything felt sore yet they were still proud of themselves for succeeding, having slayed over 7 demons during their stay and saving at least one person. The joy of being able to see Zenitsu and their friends again had kept them going.

“I’m almost there Zeni,” they whimpered out as they almost fell over due to the pain that coursed through their legs. Weakness in their steps as their vision almost blurred from extreme exhaustion, they hadn’t had a chance to rest at any point during their return back to Urokodaki’s home.

The door to Urokodaki’s home burst open, revealing Zenitsu’s crying face. Tears flowing down from his honey filled eyes, cheeks tainted a deep red as if he had been crying for hours.

“N/n!” He yelled out as he sprinted to their nearly collapsed form, his arms wide open and ready to embrace them.

A tired smile on their face as they used their last burst of energy to run into his arms, closing the gap between them. Y/n collapsed in his embrace, soft sobs coming from their lips and tears flowing down their cheeks, as Zenitsu cried with them.

Urokodaki and Tanjiro joining in on the hug after being called over by them. Zenitsu’s lips kissed all over their face after nuzzling his cheek on theirs.

His gentle honey gaze looking at the bandage wrapped across their forehead and their hand bandaged as well, a light pout on his lips.

Zenitsu carried them back to the house where he had been staying.

“Thank you for carrying me,” their voice soft and groggy from exhaustion as their arms lazily laced around his neck.

He soon reached the home, settling them down on an already prepared bed. Zenitsu quickly left to bring over the meal he worked so hard to prepare for them.

They giggled weakly at the sight of him preparing everything, “You’re so sweet. Thank you, Zeni,” they gently caressed the top of his head before he began to feed them and pamper them all around as Zenitsu would gush over how cool and amazing and adorable Y/n was.

Night slowly reached as the sky became a smokey purple and looming stringy clouds of dusty purple lingered. The stars twinkling overhead and glimmering in joy for their return with the moon watching over the home they rested in.

Zenitsu laid down beside them, his arm carefully wrapped around them for fear of injuring them further.

“Zeni?” Their voice soft and meek as they looked at his peaceful silent form.

His own gaze was on them, lovingly admiring every sight of their gentle expression and the bandages that were on them. Carefully he stroked their cheek as he hummed.

“Remember when two years ago when I told you that I wanted to join the demon slayer corp?”

He nodded, “Mhm,” he brought their body close to his, cuddling and embracing into their warmth.

“I told you that I wanted to join because I wanted to prove that I was strong. But..that’s not the truth. I wanted to join because I wanted to be by your side. I don’t want to be a burden following you guys around without providing anything other than cooking and stuff...and I don’t want you getting distracted from your missions to protect me,” their eyes began to tear up, “Those two years we spent apart felt like an eternity..but you were my motivation to keep pushing forward and bettering myself,” their hand laced with his, “I love you Zenitsu. I always want to be by your side, and I want to be able to protect you the same way you’ve protected me.”

Zenitsu watched them speak, hearing all their words and pulling the depth and meaning in their words. His eyes watered and he began to cry. His heart softened and pounded against his chest with love and admiration for them, trembling in the slightest from the overwhelming happiness he felt. Never had he felt so loved by anyone, the feeling of fortune and gratitude coursing through his veins in a euphoric manner — someone loved him enough to risk their life just to be by his side and to follow him on a life threatening journey for the sake of true love.

He felt so lucky that that someone was the love of his life, Y/n.

Carefully he pulled their body on top of his to hold them closer to his own. His hands gently caressing their sore back.

Gently they wiped away his tears, “I love you,” their smile was gentle and sweet as they pecked his lips delicately.

“I love you too Y/n. Thank you for wanting to be by my side, I always want to be with you too,” he kissed the top of her head, “I love you so very much. One day we’ll be married and we won’t have to slay demons anymore,” he laughed quietly before carefully placing a kiss on their forehead and a quick kiss on their lips. An embarrassed blush on both their faces.

Gentleness in the air filled their hearts with joy of being reunited after not being able to hold each other. His hands delicately ran through their hair as they softly giggled.

“I would like that. I love you Zeni,” they yawned before falling asleep.

A soft smile was on his face before his own eyes began to flutter.

“I love you too, N/n.”

ᴇɴᴅ

🌻—————————————————————🌻

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ғᴏʀ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛɪɴɢ <3 ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ

ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ! ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ғᴇᴇʟ ғʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛs/ɪᴅᴇᴀs/ᴀsᴋs/ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ, ɪᴛ's ᴍᴜᴄʜ

ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ :ᴅ sᴇᴇ ʏᴀʟʟ sᴏᴏɴ <3

ᴘᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛs: 5

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #reader insert #anime x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #Zenitsu #Zenitsu agatsuma #zenitsu x gender neutral reader #kny Zenitsu #demon slayer zenitsu #anime writing blog #kny x gn!reader #gender neutral insert #demon slayer x gender neutral reader #kimetsu no yaiba x gender neutral reader

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waywardnerd67 · 4 years

Text

My World, My Everything

Summary: She was everything to him. His entire world revolved around her, but a decision had to be made. He had a job to do and in making this decision he would save everything that meant the world to him. Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Angst/Fluff Word Count: 1899 Prompt: “All Our Own” -Radio Company (Lyrics are bold) A/N: This is for @atc74 Collab Challenge Contest

His finger traced the worn edges of a small photo. The moment in which it was taken as fresh in his mind as if it had happened the day before. It was meant to be the most important day of his life and ended being one of the worst. Slipping the photo back into its spot held within his wallet taking one last, long look at it before closing it in place. Looking out over the dashboard of his car, Dean Winchester looked up into the darkening sky as the end came barreling his way.

October 29, 2005 - San Diego, California

Dean pulled into his normal parking spot at (Y/N)’s apartment building. It had been a few weeks since he last saw her. His case in New Orleans had taken a little longer than expected but now his plan was back on track. Before heading up to her place, he pulled out his phone hitting his dad’s number.

“Dad, when you get this call me. There’s something important I need to talk to about.”

Snapping the phone shut, he grabbed his bag and ran up the exterior stairs with his key in his hand. The door flew open just as he reached the top of the stairs. His eyes traveled the length of her curvy body marveling in her natural beauty. Her bright eyes matched the smile spreading across her face.

“Stop gawking and get your ass in here, Winchester.”

He jogged over and scooped her up holding her tightly, “I missed you pretty girl.”

Leaving (Y/N) had been the one of the hardest moments he had and finally pushed him to make a huge change in his life. Letting her go, Dean set his stuff near the door and kicked off his boots next to the black heels she must have worn to work that day. Seeing his stuff next to hers had his chest tightening with pure happiness.

Leaning against the counter he watched her cook as she told him all about her clients for the day. The only thought running through his mind was that this beautiful, successful business woman was all his. Instinctively he ran his hand over his right pocket of his jeans smiling softly as she continued to talk. Their dinner was simple and filled with laughter as Dean told her all about the voodoo case he had in New Orleans. The rest of their evening was filled with passionate love making and the most restful sleep Dean had in weeks.

Dean awoke to gentle kisses being pressed against his chest and shining eyes staring up at him. The corner of her lips curling into a smirk as he raised an eyebrow at her. One look from her had him pouncing and their morning began as their night had ended.

“Did you think about what we last spoke of?” (Y/N) was snuggled into his side with her leg draped over his waist.

He brushed his calloused fingertips against her soft skin, “Listen to yesterday long before the way it has become and it all came down to you.”

“And…?”

“I don't really know the way, played out stranger than it seemed. But what went down came true like an all day dream.” He pushed himself up as she propped herself up on her elbow.

Her eyes searched his eyes for the unspoken words he was holding deep within him, “Dean, it doesn’t have to be a dream. You’re twenty-six now and can make your own decisions. Especially when it comes to having a stable life.”

He ran one hand through his hair, “I don't wanna be the one to say it's wrong. When the heavens open and a new day comes along. I know I would rather be together alone in a big top circle and a world we can call our own. It's all our own.”

“Does that mean…” the sheet fell from her body as she sat up hope shining in her eyes.

“In a world we can call our own we'll find shelter, darling. Where I'll always promise to never let be. I’m here to stay.”

(Y/N) launched herself onto him kissing him wherever she could get her lips on, “Handsome, that is all I want is you here all the time. You have no idea how happy I am right now.”

“Well, you can show me how happy you are.” Dean laughed as she playfully smacked him.

She got up heading towards her bathroom, “Maybe I will if you join me for a shower.”

Dean was about to follow her when he heard his phone beep with a new voicemail, “I’ll be right there.”

He watched her go in closing the door behind her. Looking at his phone his body tensed as the missed number was his dad’s. Quickly dialing his voicemail he listened to the strange message.

“Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.”

There was EVP on the message which had panic tightening around his chest. He heard the shower turn on and his heart began to ache painfully. Pulling on his jeans his hand brushed against the small object that brought tears to his eyes. Getting dressed as quickly as he could, Dean grabbed his things then wrote out a note for (Y/N).

“I have to go. I love you, Dean.”

He shut the door as he heard (Y/N) called out to him. Running down the stairs and to his Baby, Dean took off like a bat out of hell. He knew the path all too well down to Palo Alto where his little brother, Sam, was going to college. It had been years since they last spoke but Dean always made a point to go find him from afar. Now, he needed his help in order to find their dad.

Present Day

Dean stood in front of his car alone facing the greatest threat the world had ever seen. Sam was back at the Bunker trying to figure out another way to save the world, but Dean knew it was pointless. This was his burden to bare. This was his destiny. Dying to save the world and his life was worth losing knowing that he was saving the world (Y/N) was living in. As he watched the dark clouds split open and a figure in a white suit emerging from them. Dean closed his eyes, the vision of (Y/N) clearly in his mind before opening them and heading straight for Chuck.

***

(Y/N) was wrapped in her favorite blanket when the doorbell rang. A tall man, with long chestnut hair stood there. His eyes were bloodshot and tired looking. He was holding a small shoebox in his hands.

“May I help you?”

“Are you (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” His voice was hoarse as if he had been crying.

She nodded, “Yes I am.”

The man took a deep breath, “My name is Sam Winchester…”

Hearing the surname made her gasp, “You’re Dean’s little brother. W-Where is Dean?”

His hazel eyes connected with hers with tears in them, “D-Dean wanted you to have this when he… when he passed.”

(Y/N) stared at the box shaking her head, “No. N-No… he can’t be. Tell me, he’s around the corner or on his way. Don’t you dare tell me he’s gone!”

Sam held the box out to her, “I-I’m sorry, but I can’t. He sacrificed his life in order to save the world. He defeated God and defended all the people of this world. The only thing he made me promise to do is deliver this box to you.”

As she took a hold of the flimsy shoebox a blood curdling sob erupted from deep within her chest and her body gave out as she fell into Sam’s outstretched arms. He helped her inside to her couch as she let out all of her anguish knowing the world no longer had Dean Winchester in it. Sam sat with her until there were no more tears left for her to give.

“I’m s-sorry.”

He rubbed her back, wiping away his own tears, “No need to apologize. Would you mind if I stay while you open the box? I’ve been watching him carry this around since he came to get me from college. I’m curious what’s inside.”

She nodded her trembling hands taking the lid off. There were all kinds of trinkets from all his travels. A worn copy of her favorite book, Little Women, with his hand written notes. A small photo album with pictures of him throughout the years he was away from her. Seeing his piercing olive eyes and handsome face brought fresh tears down her cheeks. Then there was a small square box and an envelope. Within the box was a simple diamond ring, a soft gasp coming from her.

“Pretty girl, I know you probably hate me and you should. I had to leave. Not because of my dad or the job. I had to leave to keep you safe. There is nothing in this world more important to me than you being alive, safe, healthy. Even though the thought of you being with someone else tears my heart apart, I hope you found someone who loves you as much as I do. I want you to live a full and happy life.

If you’re reading this then Sam has kept his promise. I’m gone but the world is safe. Don’t be sad that I’m gone. There was no choice in the matter and no other way. I had to save the world in order to save you and that meant my death. (Y/N), I love you. You are my world, my everything. I wanted to give you this ring the morning I left. I kept hoping one day I might be lucky enough to give you this in person. Now, I want you to have it to remember that you were the only woman for me. I love you so much. Live a long, beautiful life. -Dean”

(Y/N) took the ring, slipping it onto her finger, more tears falling down her face, “Damn it Winchester, even in death you’re a charming son of a bitch.”

Sam started laughing and (Y/N) found herself joining him. They began telling stories about Dean to one another until the early hours of the morning. Exchanging phone numbers with promises to keep in touch, (Y/N) watched Sam drive away in the all too familiar black Impala. She looked up to the sky, a cool breeze whipping past her.

“Dean Winchester, if you can hear me then you get your ass back down here to me.” She closed her eyes praying that he would be in front of her when they opened.

***

A thousand miles away, the Earth split open shaking the ground violently. A large hand grasped the edge of the opening pulling themselves up onto the dirt. Coughing and dry heaving until collapsing onto the ground. Catching their breath and getting up they made their way down the nearest road. Nearly an hour later, they entered a small gas station asking to use the phone.

“This is Sam.” The familiar voice brought a wave of emotions over them.

“Sammy, it’s me. I-I’m back.”

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Masterlist!

My Nerd Herd: @waywardbaby @ladywinchester1967 @akshi8278 @ericaprice2008 @deans-baby-momma @spnbaby-67 @dean-winchesters-bacon @carryonmywaywardcaptain @-lovepeacenhope- @destiel745 @carribear31 @srsllydunnodoncare @whimsicalrobots @thisismysecrethappyplace @starstruckzonkoperatorbat @adoptdontshoppets @mrswhozeewhatsis @bella-ca @drakelover78 @imascio08 @pisces-cutie @dwgrl1903-blog @mannls @the-salty-asian @winchesterprincessbride @xostephanie @superromijn @witch-of-letters @time-travel-bouqet @screechingartisancashbailiff @myinconnelly1 @sister-winchesters99 @thekatherinewinchester @maddiepants @tumbler-tidbits @sandlee44 @destielhoneybee @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @thefaithfulwriter @stoneyggirl @supernaturalginger @emoryhemsworth @wednesdayismyfunday @team-free-will-you-idjiot @atc74 @cosicas-cuquis @casseythebee

#angelina’s collab challenge contest #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #angst #fluff

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saylors-universe · 3 years

Text

All Hands on Deck, two

Rowaelin cruise ship vacation AU

Masterlist here

word count: 5193

[ Warnings: Explicatory language, references to drugs/alcohol, etc.]

[This is an interactive story! I will include certain Authorʻs Notes throughout the chapters to inform you when to start a particular song that you can find here in the All Hands on Deck playlist (Also can be found on the masterlist). For the best experience, listen with headphones, AND FOLLOW ALONG WITH THE STORY. Please try to use your imagination when listening and reading - live through the words. Have fun :) - Saylor]

[A.N.]- Heads up, this is a pretty long one. I had a lot of fun writing it and hopefully you guys enjoy it.

...

DAY 1 - WENDLYN PORT - “Welcome all! Embarkment at 2:00 pm”

Lysandra is going to kill her. That is if they don't die in a fatal crash on their way to the docks. Aelin yanks down the passenger seat visor, flipping open the mirror compartment to find her puffy eyes matched with fresh, dark bags resting underneath. She unbuckles her seatbelt quickly to twist around, reaching behind in the backseat to grab her purse, stacked high up on her tower of suitcases. Digging through her purse, she fishes out a pair of dark, round sunglasses and covers the evidence of her late-night crying session.

“Ae- are you sure youʻre fine?” Aedion interrogates, taking his eyes off the road for a split second to scan her face, now hidden behind the obnoxiously large sunglasses. When he makes out her unusual, quiet demeanor, he drops his comforting presence, revealing a more terrifying and territorial anger. “I swear to God Iʻll kill him. The next time I see him, Iʻm bashing his face in.”

“Please donʻt Aedion,” she murmurs, “I just need to get distracted for a little while. This trip will be good for me,” she prays, “I just need to forget.”

Forget. Forget his chestnut locks, his deep brown eyes. Forget their morning runs and late night conversations. Forget the man who had been the first to pleasure her, to claim her innocence. Forget Chaol Westfall. Forget the cheating bastard who had broken her heart just two days prior. Forget the medical resident who had been having an affair with his attending, he had called her Yrene. She couldn't believe she was living an episode of Greys Anatomy, replaying Meredith Greys “pick me, choose me, love me” speech. He didnʻt. She knew they werenʻt right for each other, but still, she had hopes they would eventually work it out. Forget him. Eventually you will forget this pain. You will replace these memories with better, happier ones. It WILL get better.

Before Aedion could retort, Aelin answers a ringing call from a furious Lysandra. “WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU ASHRYVERS”

“Good morning to you too”

“Oh Iʻm sorry, please do forgive my harsh tone. WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU.”

“Weʻre nearly there babe,” Aedion butts in, “we had a ... late morning.” He looks over to his cousin, she catches a glimpse of the dashboard clock. 11:58

“Are you guys okay? What happened?”

“Oh would you look at that, we just pulled in, be up there in a sec.” Aelin rushes out and hangs up abruptly. Exiting the car before Aedion fully parks in the stall. She takes in the vast, intimidating vessel - their home for the next three weeks. Fun.

The two make a swift race of gathering together all their belongings, Aedion insisting on taking the more heavier bags - leaving Aelin to her bass guitar bag, a suitcase, and backpack. They proceeded to check in at the port center, showing their credentials and receiving their key cards. Then briskly went through security and began traveling up the ramp to the shipsʻ passenger entrance, closing right behind them.

As they enter the main lobby floor of the ship, Aelinʻs jaw drops to the floor in astonishment. To say the interior of the massive craft was “elegant” would be an understatement and a disservice. In the heart of the ship was a geniusly architectured ballroom, fit for the grandest of parties. A beautiful grand piano sat beneath the most gorgeous chandelier Aelin has ever seen, drowning the entire hall with warm light. She made sure to take mental notes and pictures to refer to the room for future dreams, or plans - this would be the perfect venue for a wedding ceremony.

“You coming Ace?” Aedion summons.

Snapping back to reality, Aelin follows the blonde, muscular man carrying majority of their luggage to the lobbyʻs elevators. He examines their key cards - showing their rooms: 825 , 823 . Assuming their rooms would be on level 8, he invites Aelin to press the button for the eighth floor with one of her free hands. They trek the rest of journey in silence, until they reached their respective rooms, right across from each other. It seems someone had sticked colorful magnets of the alphabet, numbers, and symbols on their door, like the ones found on a familyʻs refrigerator. It was very clever, none of their phones would have service while out at sea, this provides a smart solution to know peopleʻs whereabouts when theyʻre out and where to locate them. It had to be the work of Elide Lochan. On one door, someone spelt out LYS + AEDION in vibrant magnets, the other ACE + MANON. Aelin peers around at neighboring rooms, but fails to find a similar door with the name ʻElideʻ spelt out in magnets. Weird. Surely Elide would have decorated her own door, if not only to personalize it, but also claim her territory.

“Come get me once youʻre settled in? Weʻll go look for the others together.” her companion offers.

She nods in response before swiping her key card and entering room 823. It was a generously large cabin room with two queen sized beds, one fairly sized bathroom, and patio balcony. Seeing as the bed closest to the door was already occupied with bags, Manonʻs she assumed, she unloads her luggage on the bed nearest the sliding door balcony. In the bathroom stocked with all the necessary amenities, Aelin takes a quick look at herself in the vanity mirror. She lifts her large sunglasses atop her head, finally assessing the damage of her late night spent grieving her relationship. She was a mess, still beautiful, just drained. In hopes of reviving herself she splashes her face with some cold water, definitely waking her up. After taking a look around and getting situated she grabs her key card and leaves her cabin, takes the short trip across the narrow hallway and knocks on Aedionʻs door. There was some rustling behind the door, then Aedion opened up, revealing an identical room to her own.

“All good?”

“Yep, you?”

“Yeah, letʻs go. Lys texted, said theyʻre scoping out the pool on the Lido deck.”

They make their way to the Lido deck, finding it surprisingly crowded. The pool was massive and already occupied by a few passengers. The food bar near the pool, already had a line of hungry patrons patiently waiting for their burgers and fries. The elderly, kind looking chef at the grill and young, tawny curly haired chefʻs assistant both lock eyes with Aelin and offer a warm smile and welcoming wave as she and Aedion pass by. By some luck, they are reunited with their friends who were lounging on suntanning chairs on the deck.

“Hi baby!” Lysandra squeals as she runs into her boyfriends arms, who returns the passion just as fervently. “Hi, my love.”

“I missed you so much” “I missed you more”

The interaction earned a not-so-subtle eye roll from the petulant Manon Blackbeak. “Spare us the lovey-dovey bullshit.” Which Lys returned by flipping the white-haired drummer off while pushing her tongue down Aedionʻs throat. Manon scoffs and then raises a hand to block her eyes from the blaring sun. Her very pale complexion already seemed tanned from the short time in the sun.

“Aelin!” Elide shouts, moving out of Lorcanʻs arms to embrace her friend, “you guys made it.”

Aelin returns Elideʻs hug as she meets her tan, dark-haired fianceʻs dour gaze. “Galanthynius”

Unlocking from her tender friendʻs clutch. “Salvaterre,” she returns, nodding her head once in recognition.

“Did you guys find your rooms okay?” the brown eyed beauty continued.

“Yeah, we just dropped our stuff off.”

“Oh good. Okay, I talked with Dorian, the cruise director, and he showed me the music room we can use for practices. He said the performance stage is up there on the sky deck,” she points to a level right above the food bar, in perfect view of the pool, “itʻs across from the sport courts and thereʻs an open bar right over there”, pointing near the direction of the stage,”- so the plan right now is we only perform nights at sea. But we also switch off with the boys, so we wonʻt even need to worry about some nights,”

“The boys?”

“My guys,” Lorcan sneers.

“Lorcan Salvaterre? In a band?” Aelin mocks, and snickers.

“Iʻm full of surprises,” a response that manages to shut Aelin up pretty quickly.

“Weʻve got tonight so you guys donʻt have to stress, but weʻll be out at sea tomorrow night as well so thatʻs all you guys,” Lorcan informs the women. He pulls Elide back and notifies her that he has to head off to his bandʻs practice for tonights show and that heʻll find her afterwards. They share a quick kiss that Aelin deeply regrets witnessing, and the broody giant saunters off to wherever the music room Elide mentioned was located, leaving the ladies and Aedion to investigate the gigantic portable hotel.

_______________________________________________

“Come on Whitethorn, you really need to live a little,” the white wolf incarnate, Fenrys Moonbeam, teases the bass player in tempts of sharing some embarkment/welcome drinks before their practice.

“You know I donʻt do that stuff anymore,” itʻs true. Rowan had made sure to never touch or consume anything that would dampen his senses or thought process, not since Lyria. He would never be that stupid again, never recklessly waste away at the bottom of a bottle only to have his loving girlfriend take him home. Except she wouldnʻt make it home. And it was his fault, he has to live with the guilt of being alive, without her instead of her.

“Besides, I prefer being at my best for our shows,” he adds.

“And whoʻs to say Iʻm not”

“Fen, you can barely remember half our shows,”

“Damn, they must have been good.”

His twin and night to his day, Connal, finally joins the two in the music room set aside in the ships corner, to provide some semblance of privacy during their practice. “Lor here yet?”

“I havenʻt seen him since we checked in our rooms,” Rowan had really lucked out. Lorcan would be in a romantic suite with his fiance, the twins decided to share a room, so that left Rowan with his own private room, room 835 a nicely sized cabin in the corner of the hall, far enough away from everyone else but close enough to the elevators.

Lorcan slips in the room shortly after Connal had, “speak of the fucking devil,” the mischievous blonde wolf pokes.

“Okay boys, night one, we have to impress,” Lorcan chips in.

“Iʻm thinking we do the set we did in Ardalan,” Connal pitched. The rest agree, preparing their instruments, Lorcan taking his seat at the drum set and the rest tuning their guitars for their respective roles, Rowan-bassist, Connal-lead guitarist, and Fenrys - rhythm guitarist & lead singer.

After a couple clean run throughs, the boys departed to their rooms to prepare for the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NIGHT 1 - AT SEA - “Live music from ʻThe Cadreʻ tonight at 7 pm on the Sky Deck”

After the mandatory safety lecture and demonstrations on how to use the life vests provided in the cabinʻs closets and assigning the zones theyʻd report to in the case of an emergency, the Queenʻs Court + Aedion went around the whole ship, looking for a homebase to call their own and to meet everyday. They had decided on the food bar by the pool where the head chef, Emrys, and his assistant, Luca, merrily accepted them. Through getting acquainted, Aelin had learned that Luca was Emrys and his partner, Malakaiʻs, adopted son. She had also learned that they were from Terrasen like her. They quickly bonded over their shared experiences of growing up and life in Terrasen, the two culinary experts warmly welcomed her to their fold.

“We better go get ready,” Elide had warned the group after finishing their amazing burger and fries made with love from their new friends. The squad quickly found their way to the elevators, Elide hopping off on the ninth floor, to Aelinʻs surprise. It must have shown on her face because Lys swiftly answered her minds wondering, “Lorcan and El got the better cabin suite, complimentary engagement gift from the cruise line.” To which she nodded in understanding.

Upon returning to their cabin, Aelin collapses on her bed, still covered with her luggage. Manon notes the desperate fall and snickers, “You good Ace?”

“No,” do I really want to unpack this all right now? - not referring to her clothes, “Chaol and I broke up. Well actually I found out he was cheating on me, and then we broke up.”

“Shit. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Good cuz I donʻt either.”

The insensitive banter coincidentally brought a smile to Aelinʻs face, “You asshole,” she calls and throws one of her bedʻs pillows at her now roommate.

Manonʻs lightning fast reflexes allowed her to catch the flying pillow without a second thought. “Look at where you are right now, weʻre on a fucking cruise ship with our best friends and weʻre being paid to do our favorite thing. Now if you donʻt lighten up, forget about that loser, and get your ass in a tiny, skimpy outfit then Iʻll fuck your brains out, make you fall in love with me and break your heart too. Any breakup heartbreak can be cured by a good oleʻ one night stand, and I normally donʻt do those kind of favors for bandmates so it looks like we are just going to have to find you some dick tonight ”

Aelin knew she wasnʻt joking. When it really counts, Manon is always able to talk some sense and logic into Aelin, and tonight she would be grateful for it. So she did as the terrifyingly pretty, golden-eyed bisexual had commanded. Struggling as she slipped into a classic red, off the shoulder dress that hugged every curve of her sculpted body, barely passing her high-mid thigh. She curled loose waves in her long blonde hair, and applied a natural eye makeup look with a bold red lip. After studying this new woman in the mirror, she was reminded of how fucking hot she was, she felt stunning and daring, perhaps even more bold than her personality already permits.

Her roomie gave her a catcall whistle as she left the bathroom. Manon had prepared for the show with a sleek black halter top that exposed her defined midriff, and a criminally damning amount of cleavage, along with a tight black pencil skirt that also showed off her many curves. They were two dangerously attractive women, and they both knew it, which in a sense is even more deadly.

“Shall we?” Manon asks holding out an arm. Aelin takes it earnestly as the two strut their way to the Sky deck.

They manage to find Elide, Lysandra, and Aedion in the already massive crowd on the deck. Their group had really shown up tonight, they looked like they could be in a magazine catalogue, just a bunch of wildly attractive, and talented individuals.

“You two made it just in time,” Elide greeted, taking them into their circle.

A disgustingly handsome, dark haired, tanned man with the most mesmerizing, sapphire eyes, took the stage. Aelin made sure to note Manon becoming suddenly stiff besides her as she took in the stranger on stage. “Howʻs everybody doing tonight,” he welcomes with an energetic, soothing voice. The crowd roars in anticipation. When the audience settles enough for him to be heard again he continues, “well Iʻm so very glad to hear that. We are so happy to have you guys here with us on the Ellywe Voyager, my name is Dorian, I am your cruise activities director, so you guys will be seeing lots of me,” he flashes an award-winning smile that causes at least twenty gasps from women in the audience. “Seeing as Ellywe will be all of our home for the next couple weeks, we ask that you be mindful of your living quarters and keep the noise down in consideration of your neighbors. In agreement, we have worked hard to organize not only one but two, awesome bands for you guys to jam out to in these live concerts throughout the weeks, how does that sound?” The crowd goes absolutely ballistic. This is the type of energy Aelin lives for, she could get used to this for the next few weeks. “I love to hear the sound of that, so without further ado, everyone please help me welcome The Cadre!”

[A.N.] - Start “What I Like About You (Live)” - 5SOS now, follow along, and let your imagination take you there. Find the playlist here.

The crowd screams in welcoming.

Crowd: “Whitethorn, Whitethorn, Whitethorn, Whitethorn, Whitethorn.”

Aelin: Whitethorn? What-

The music starts building and Lys scoots over to her bandmates, “Our competitions got quite the fanbase.”

“Yeah, letʻs see if theyʻre any good,” Manon scoffs.

The audience continues to scream, welcoming their entertainment.

Lorcan: Woo

Cadre + Crowd : HEY! HEY!

Fenrys: THATʻS WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU

YOU HOLD ME TIGHT

AND TELL ME IʻM THE ONLY ONE WANNA COME OVER TONIGHT, YEAH

Cadre: KEEP ON WHISPERING IN MY EAR

TELL ME ALL THE THINGS THAT I WANNA HEAR

ʻCAUSE ITʻS TRUE

Connal: THATʻS RIGHT

THATʻS WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU

Fenrys: YEAH WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU

YOU REALLY KNOW HOW TO DANCE

OH- WHEN YOU GO UP, DOWN, JUMP AROUND

THINKING ʻBOUT TRUE ROMANCE, YEAH

Cadre: KEEP ON WHISPERING IN MY EAR

TELL ME ALL THE THINGS THAT I WANNA HEAR

ʻCAUSE ITʻS TRUE, THATʻS WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU

Fenrys: THATʻS WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU

Cadre: [WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU]

Fenrys: THATʻS WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU

Cadre: [WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU]

Fenrys: THATʻS WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU

Cadre: [WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU]

Fenrys: THATʻS WHAT I LIKE ABOUT --- YOU

Cadre: [WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU]

Everyone: HEY!

Aelin watches, eyes wide, mouth agape, as a certain silver haired ghost from her past shreds a guitar solo. He catches her presence, and suddenly loses touch with reality - the sounds start to deafen around him of realization of who is in the crowd.

Fenrys: “LISTEN UP *ELLYWE*”

Rowan: WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU

Fenrys: YOU HOLD ME REAL TIGHT. heha.

NEVER WANNA LET YOU GO

KNOW YOU MAKE ME FEEL ALRIGHT

Cadre: KEEP ON WHISPERING IN MY EAR

TELL ME ALL THE THINGS THAT I WANNA HEAR

ʻCAUSE ITʻS TRUE, THATʻS WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU

Connal: [HERE WE GO]

Fenrys: THATʻS WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU

Cadre: [WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU]

Fenrys: THATʻS WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU

Cadre: [WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU]

Fenrys: THATʻS WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU

Cadre: [WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU]

Fenrys: THATʻS WHAT I LIKE ABOUT --- Y- Y-

THATʻS WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOOOOOOOOOOOU

- The crowd goes absolutely nuts, yet his gaze never leaves hers. That canʻt be, he thinks to himself, what is she doing here?

The only blonde in the group grabs his mic, Aelin deduced this is the one called Fenrys from the squealing girls in the audience yelling his name. “How are we doing tonight Ellywe?”,walls of screams respond. “We are so glad to be here with you guys, so glad in fact that weʻve prepared a little treat for you guys,” continues shrieking, “take it away Whitethorn.”

[A.N] Start “House of Memories” by Panic! At the Disco now, follow along, and use your imagination. Find the playlist here.

Cadre: OH-WA-A-A-A-OH-WOOAAH-OH-WA-A-A-A-OH-WOOAAH-OH

Rowan: IF YOUʻRE A LOVER, YOU SHOULD KNOW

THE LONELY MOMENTS JUST GET LONELIER

THE LONGER YOUʻRE IN LOVE

THAN IF YOU WERE ALONE

MEMORIES TURN INTO DAYDREAMS

BECOME A TABOO

- Eyes still locked with hers as if in a silent conversation -

I DONʻT WANT TO BE AFRAID

THE DEEPER THAT I GO

IT TAKES MY BREATH AWAY

SOFT HEARTS, ELECTRIC SOULS

HEART TO HEART AND EYES TO EYES

IS THIS TABOO?

BABY, WE BUILT THIS HOUSE ON MEMORIES

TAKE MY PICTURE NOW, SHAKE IT TILL YOU SEE IT

- He winks at the woman in the red dress who has captured his slightly divided attention. -

AND WHEN YOUR FANTASIES BECOME YOUR LEGACY

PROMISE ME A PLACE IN YOUR HOUSE OF MEMORIES

Cadre: OH-WA-A-A-A-OH-WOOAAH-OH-WA-A-A-A-OH-WOOAAH-OH

Rowan: I THINK OF YOU FROM TIME TO TIME

MORE THAN I THOUGHT I WOULD

YOU WERE JUST TOO KIND

AND I WAS TOO YOUNG TO KNOW

THATʻS ALL THAT REALLY MATTERS

I WAS A FOOL

BABY, WE BUILT THIS HOUSE ON MEMORIES

TAKE MY PICTURE NOW, SHAKE IT TILL YOU SEE IT

AND WHEN YOUR FANTASIES BECOME YOUR LEGACIES

PROMISE ME A PLACE IN YOUR HOUSE OF MEMORIES

Cadre: OH-WA-A-A-A-OH-WOOAAH-OH-WA-A-A-A-OH-WOOAAH-OH

Rowan: THOSE THOUGHTS OF PAST LOVERS, THEYʻLL ALWAYS HAUNT ME

I WISH I COULD BELIEVE YOUʻD NEVER WRONG ME

THEN WILL YOU REMEMBER ME IN THE SAME WAY

AS I REMEMBER YOU?

BABY, WE BUILT THIS HOUSE ON MEMORIES

TAKE MY PICTURE NOW, SHAKE IT TILL YOU SEE IT

AND WHEN YOUR FANTASIES BECOME YOUR LEGACY

PROMISE ME A PLACE

BABY, WE BUILT THIS HOUSE ON MEMORIES

TAKE MY PICTURE NOW, SHAKE IT TILL YOU SEE IT

AND WHEN YOUR FANTASIES BECOME YOUR LEGACY

PROMISE ME A PLACE IN YOUR HOUSE OF MEMORIES

Cadre: OH-WA-A-A-A-OH-WOOAAH-OH-WA-A-A-A-OH-WOOAAH-OH

Rowan: IN YOUR HOUSE OF MEMORIES

Cadre: OH-WA-A-A-A-OH-WOOAAH-OH-WA-A-A-A-OH-WOOAAH-OH

Rowan: PROMISE ME A PLACE

- Once again, the crowd goes absolutely berserk, and rightfully so, The Cadre had really came out to impress tonight. Still in a state of shock, Aelin grabs Manonʻs wrists and pulls her to the open bar near the back of the stage deck, “I need a drink.”

“Damn. I have to give it to them, they are REALLY good.”

The band continues in the background, while Aelin completely loses herself to her racing mind. -

[A.N] Start “American Idiot (Live)” by 5SOS now, follow along and let your imagination flow. Find playlist here.

Connal: “Does anybody know the band ʻGreen Dayʻ?”

Fenrys: “Iʻm not familiar”

Connal: “The next song weʻr --”

Fenrys: “Whoʻs that?”

Connal: “Heh, the next song weʻre going to play is a very, very, very fast cover of them”

Fenrys: “Iʻm sorry --”

Lorcan: “Donʻt judge my drumming, I suck at this song, letʻs go,”

- Aelin and Manon return to their group of friends, drinks in hand, completely enthralled by the performers. -

Connal: DONʻT WANT TO BE AN AMERICAN IDIOT

ONE NATION CONTROLLED BY THE MEDIA

AND CAN YOU HEAR THE SOUND OF HYSTERIA?

AND SING ALONG TO THE AGE OF PARANOIA

Fenrys: WELCOME TO A NEW KIND OF TENSION

ALL ACROSS THE ALIEN NATION

WHERE EVERYTHING ISNʻT MEANT TO BE OKAY

TELEVISION DREAMS OF TOMORROW

WEʻRE NOT THE ONES WHOʻRE MEANT TO FOLLOW

FOR THATʻS ENOUGH TO ARGUE

Connal: DONʻT WANT TO BE AN AMERICAN IDIOT

IʻM NOT APART OF THE REDNECK AGENDA

NOW EVERYBODY DO THE PROPAGANDA

AND SING ALONG TO THE AGE OF PARANOIA

Fenrys: WELCOME TO A NEW KIND OF TENSION

ALL ACROSS THE ALIEN NATION

WHERE EVERYTHING ISNʻT MEANT TO BE OKAY

TELEVISION DREAMS OF TOMORROW

WEʻRE NOT THE ONES WHOʻRE MEANT TO FOLLOW

FOR THATʻS ENOUGH TO ARGUE

- Rowan has a bass solo, to which Aelin has a difficult time not being captivated by, her eyes never leave the silver-haired, green eyed, bassist, as if they are in their own little world. -

- Lorcan has a drumming solo to which Elide screeches, “THATʻS MY MOTHERFUCKING HUSBAND,” he couldnʻt have possibly heard her over the drowning music but he notes her excitement and gives her a wide grin, only meant for her eyes. -

Connal: DONʻT WANT TO BE AN AMERICAN IDIOT

ONE NATION CONTROLLED BY THE MEDIA

Fenrys: INFORMATION AGE OF HYSTERIA

Connal: ITʻS CALLING OUT TO IDIOT AMERICA

Fenrys: WELCOME TO A NEW KIND OF TENSION

ALL ACROSS THE ALIEN NATION

WHERE EVERYTHING ISNʻT MEANT TO BE OKAY

TELEVISION DREAMS OF TOMORROW

WEʻRE NOT THE ONES WHOʻRE MEANT TO FOLLOW

FOR THATʻS ENOUGH TO ARGUE

- More headache causing, loud screaming from their devoted audience -

[A.N.] Start “Teenage Dream (Live)” by 5SOS now, follow along and let your imagination work. Find playlist here.

Fenrys: “Whatʻs the next song *Connal Moonbeam*”

Connal: “The next song weʻre going to play is a cover, so [crowd screams] itʻs not one of our songs actually.”

Fenrys: “Itʻs usually for the people in the audience who donʻt know our song, so if you have a mum, or a dad, or someone here, aunty, uncle,

Lorcan: “-significant other-”

Fenrys: “-puppy, this songʻs for you, it goes like this.”

Connal: “uno , dos, tres, cuatro-”

- The song starts to build and the men on stage look completely in their element. -

Rowan: I THINK YOUʻRE PRETTY WITHOUT ANY MAKEUP ON

I THINK YOUʻRE FUNNY WHEN YOU TELL THE PUNCHLINE WRONG

I KNOW YOU GOT ME, SO I LET MY WALLS COME DOWN, DOWN

Fenrys: BEFORE YOU MET ME, I WAS ALRIGHT

BUT THINGS WERE KINDA HEAVY

YOU BROUGHT ME TO LIFE

NOW EVERY FEBRUARY, YOUʻLL BE MY VALENTINE, VALENTINE

Connal: SO LETʻS GO ALL THE WAY TONIGHT

NO REGRETS, JUST LOVE

WE CAN DANCE UNTIL WE DIE

YOU AND I, WEʻLL BE YOUNG FOREVER

YOU MAKE ME FEEL LIKE IM LIVING A TEENAGE DREAM

THE WAY YOU TURN ME ON, I CANʻT SLEEP

LETʻS RUN AWAY AND DONʻT EVER LOOK BACK

DONʻT EVER LOOK BACK

MY HEART STOPS WHEN YOU LOOK AT ME

JUST ONE TOUCH, NOW BABY I BELIEVE, THIS IS REAL

LETʻS TAKE A CHANCE AND DONʻT EVER LOOK BACK

DONʻT EVER LOOK BACK

Fenrys: WE DROVE TO LA, GOT DOWN ON THE BEACH

GOT A MOTEL AND BUILT HOUSE OUT OF SHEETS

I FINALLY GOT YOU, MY MISSING PUZZLE PIECE, IʻM COMPLETE

Connal: SO LETʻS GO ALL THE WAY TONIGHT

NO REGRETS, JUST LOVE

WE CAN DANCE, UNTIL WE DIE

YOU AND I [here we go], WEʻLL BE YOUNG FOREVER

YOU MAKE ME FEEL LIKE IM LIVING A TEENAGE DREAM

THE WAY YOU TURN ME ON, I CANʻT SLEEP

LETʻS RUN AWAY AND DONʻT EVER LOOK BACK

DONʻT EVER LOOK BACK

ʻCAUSE MY HEART STOPS WHEN YOU LOOK AT ME

JUST ONE TOUCH, NOW BABY I BELIEVE, THIS IS REAL

LETʻS TAKE A CHANCE AND DONʻT EVER LOOK BACK

DONʻT EVER LOOK BACK

Lorcan: ʻCAUSE I CAN FEEL YOUR HEART RACING

IN MY SKIN-TIGHT JEANS

BE YOUR TEENAGE DREAM TONIGHT

LET YOU REST YOUR HANDS ON ME

IN MY SKIN-TIGHT JEANS

BE YOUR TEENAGE DREAM TONIGHT [wooooooo]

Fenrys: “*Ellywe*, if you know the words, please sing them”

Lorcan: [ one, two, three, hey. ]

Connal + CROWD: ʻCAUSE YOU MAKE ME FEEL LIKE IʻM LIVING A TEENAGE DREAM

THE WAY YOU TURN ME ON, I CANʻT SLEEP

LETʻS RUN AWAY AND DONʻT EVER LOOK BACK

DONʻT EVER LOOK BACK

ʻCAUSE MY HEART STOPS WHEN YOU LOOK AT ME

JUST ONE TOUCH, NOW BABY I BELIEVE, THIS IS REAL

LETʻS TAKE A CHANCE AND DONʻT EVER LOOK BACK

DONʻT EVER LOOK BACK

Connal: “The next song weʻre going to play, is about girls, and girls like this”

Fenrys: “Cooties!”

- There is a mixture of laughter and screams from the audience. -

[A.N.] Start “Valentine (Live)” by 5SOS now, follow along, and - yea you know the drill. Find playlist here.

Rowan: “This oneʻs a new one. Youngblood itʻs called Valentine, it goes like this”

Lorcan: “*Ellywe* letʻs fucking dance.”

Rowan: I LOVE THE LIGHT IN YOUR EYES AND THE DARK IN YOUR HEART

YOU LOVE A PERMANENT CHASE AND THE BITE OF OUR MARK

WE KNOW WEʻRE CLASSIC TOGETHER LIKE EGYPTIAN GOLD

WE WILL LOVE US

IT DONʻT MATTER, BE COMBATIVE OR BE SWEET CHERRY PIE

IT DONʻT MATTER, JUST AS LONG AS I GET ALL YOU TONIGHT

[ here we go ]

Cadre: I CAN TAKE YOU OUT, OH - OH

WE CAN KILL SOME TIME STAY HOME

THROW BALLOONS, TEDDY BEARS, AND THE CHOCOLATE ECLAIRS AWAY

I GOT NOTHINʻ BUT LOVE FOR YOU, FALL MORE IN LOVE EVERYDAY

VALENTINE, VALENTINE

Lorcan: SO FUCKINʻ DEEP THAT YOUR DNAʻS BEINʻ MESSED WITH MY TOUCH, CANʻT BEAT US

Connal: SO REAL, FUELING THE FIRE UNTIL WE COMBUST

CANʻT TOUCH US. [give it to me]

Fenrys: IT DONʻT MATTER BE COMBATIVE OR BE SWEET CHERRY PIE

IT DONʻT MATTER JUST AS LONG AS I GET ALL YOU TONIGHT

Cadre: I CAN TAKE YOU OUT, OH - OH

WE CAN KILL SOME TIME STAY HOME

THROW BALLOONS, TEDDY BEARS, AND THE CHOCOLATE ECLAIRS AWAY

I GOT NOTHINʻ BUT LOVE FOR YOU, FALL MORE IN LOVE EVERYDAY

VALENTINE, VALENTINE

Rowan: FULL PLATE, DONʻT WAIT, HAVE YOUR CAKE AND EAT IT TOO

[ SING ]

Crowd: FULL PLATE, DONʻT WAIT, [+ ROWAN] HAVE YOUR CAKE AND EAT IT

Cadre: I CAN TAKE YOU OUT, OH - OH

WE CAN KILL SOME TIME STAY HOME

THROW BALLOONS, TEDDY BEARS, AND THE CHOCOLATE ECLAIRS AWAY

I GOT NOTHINʻ BUT LOVE FOR YOU, FALL MORE IN LOVE EVERYDAY

VALENTINE, VALENTINE,

Fenrys: VALENTINE, VALENTINE

Rowan: WOAH - HEY - WOAH - HEY. “you sing”

Crowd: WOAH - HEY - WOAH - HEY [ “JUST YOU”]

WOAH - HEY - WOAH - HEY - WOAH - HEY

[”ONE MORE TIME”]

WOAH - HEY

- The crowd cheers. -

Fenrys: “Goodnight Ellywe, we will see you later!”

- The men leave the stage, leaving their fans in utter bliss, and one certain blonde bad bitch in a stunning red dress is left alone to her thoughts, processing what the hell had just happened. -

[ Hi, if youʻve made it this far good for you! I hope you like the story this far. I apologize for mainly including 5sos in this chapter, I just felt it fit the vibe of opening night best. Going forward I will include more diverse artists and bands that I feel sound like the characters. -- My inbox is always open for messages, Iʻm accepting prompts, I want you guys to write this story with me, so if you have any ideas or even songs you want to see in this story, let me know! -- If you would like to be on the tag list send me a message, thank you so much for your support - saylor loves you ! :) ]

All Hands on Deck taglist:

@smalltddygothgf @booksbqueen @underworldboxers @live-the-fangirl-life @booknerdproblems @rowaelinismyotp

#throne of glass #tog #tog fanfic #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #cruise #lysandra #aedion x lysandra #aedion ashryver #elide x lorcan #fenrys moonbeam #dorian #dorian havilliard #manon blackbeak #dorian x manon #5sos #concert

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themusingsofafangirl · 4 years

Text

Unexpected Guest (One Shot)

Pairing: Nishikiyama x (Fem)Reader Genre: Nothing NSFW istg Word count: 1239 “The truth is...” Nishiki says... *** A/N: Debuting my first ever story on my newly introduced segment One Shot Wednesdays, here’s a short story involving our lovely Koi Fish Boi aka Akira Nishikiyama! Believe it or not, I got this idea when I was zoning out in the train on my way to the grocery store. lel. Anyways hope you like this piece~

It’s been raining the entire day and it has pretty much limited your mobility to go out on a weekend you have been looking forward to. Not that you were against staying indoors, but maybe it was also a good thing that it rained because now you are snuggled up under the sheets with a warm mug of tea on the couch with your pet cat watching your favourite series.

As time goes by, the rain still did not stop – yet it even got heavier. Your cat followed you around wherever you went around the house as you did little chores here and there, at least it was not that lonely. While you were organising your closet, a box fell down to the floor. You sighed at your clumsiness before squatting down to collect all the items that have fallen out of it. As you were putting them back into the box, you noticed a polaroid picture and picked it up.

It was a picture of you and your friends at some party you could not recall what the occasion for celebration was. But what really caught your attention in that picture was an old friend of yours whom you have not spoken to for so long. Truth is, you have always had a slight crush on him. You hid that feeling deep down inside you; buried so deep not even a single soul knew except your cat. You have not heard from him for awhile now, only rumours about how he has already started his own family; a promising start for him to climb his way up the Tojo Clan.

You never knew why you developed a crush on him. Perhaps, it was that one afternoon back in high school when he joined you and the rest of the gang hanging out at your usual spot. You noticed how gentle his features were, as it was shyly grazed by the light from the sun that penetrated through the leaves on the branches beneath the Sakura tree where all of you sat. Especially the way his eyes would look at you which is probably how he looks at everyone; but that afternoon, you were just dumbstruck by him. Blame it on the teenage hormones, yes, but it has been long passed your youthful hey days to blame it on so. And so, you just kept it to yourself.

You thought your little teenage crush would go away. Sadly, you were wrong. Life after high school, you would still meet up with him, Kiryu, and Yumi - enjoying each other’s company by sharing woes and joys. It got difficult as the months go by to hang out with your favourite boys; especially when they have officially joined the Dojima Family. You were scared and worried about them, often hoping and praying to whichever Deity that would listen to you to watch over them wherever they are and in whatever they have to do.

Not only that, you were offered a job that required you to move away from the place you once called home. Ever since then, you eventually lost contact with Nishikiyama. Kiryu has been holed up behind bars and this makes you feel even more disheartened. But you only wish them for the best. You still harboured feelings for Nishkiyama, yet you also knew, he would probably never look at you because you were never his type of girl. You have seen him with a string of gorgeous women he has been in relationships with – none of which you were near their standards in terms of beauty.

Insecurity was always prevalent in you. Sometimes you try to look like the girls he has dated – hoping you would score a chance with Nishkiyama. But you just gave up somehow. The ring of your doorbell snapped you out of your melancholic reverie. You wondered who would turn up at your doorstep in such weather. You got up and walked yourself over to the door and peeked through the peephole and you were shocked to see Nishkiyama at your doorstep. You opened the door to see him soaked wet from the rain.

“Nishki-kun!” you exclaimed.

“Hmm, y/n-chan. It’s been a while.” He said.

“What are you doing here? Get inside, you’re going to catch a cold!” you replied and ushered him into your home. You fumbled across the cabinet to find him a towel and hurriedly gave it to him.

“I’ll make you some warm tea, you j-“

“Y/n-chan,” Nishkiyama says cutting you off as he holds your hand to stop you.

You looked down at your hand being held in his then up to his face, his eyes full of some kind of unspoken sorrow. “Y/n-chan, I’ve missed you.” He spoke. You were taken aback with the statement a bit but you believed he meant he missed you as a friend and nothing else.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere, y/n-chan.” He said while slightly out of breath.

“What do you mean, Nishki-kun? What’s wrong?” you ask softly.

He sat himself down and you followed suit as he fiddled around with the towel in his hands. He looked at you and says,

“When you Yumi told me you’ve left town, I thought I’ve lost you. The truth is y/n, I’ve liked you for a very long time now.”

“Ey, Nishki-kun is this one of your pranks again? C’mon bro, what’s up?” you asked him jokingly while nudging him, trying to convince yourself at the same time that you were hallucinating or sorts. But his eyes were stern and fixated on you. Seriousness written all over his face. You quit grinning when you saw this and that’s when you,

“oh…”

“Y/n..” he started.

“I-I don’t know what to say…” you replied. Were your ears really hearing these words coming out of his mouth? Or were you in a dream and you have not woken up yet? You looked away from him for a moment and tried to take in the presence of your surroundings. Is Nishiki even real? Did he really come here just to find you to say those things?

Yup. Definitely not dreaming, because I can feel things.

You were really trying to take in the words he just said and figuring out how to react to him when suddenly you felt his hands slide behind your neck as he turned you to face him before pulling you in for a kiss. Your eyes widened in surprised but his hands were ever so gentle as he held you close. You have always dreamed of being close to him but definitely did not expect that that day would actually come true and so you gave in to his kiss because you knew deep down, you wanted him too.

Letting go of each other, you looked away from his gaze. Feeling a bit shy to look at your crush who just kissed you.

“At-choo!” Nishkiyama sneezed. “Excuse me.”

“Oof! Let’s fix you a warm bath.” you laughed a little as you said that. You decided that it was time to get him into something dry and warm to avoid him catching a cold. You reached out your hands towards him before leading him into your apartment. Walking inside, Nishikiyama pulls you back into his embrace suddenly.

“Only if you join me.” He says so seductively, you knew your heart died for a moment. Who would have thought, that your dreams would actually come true? END

#ryu ga gotoku #yakuza 0 #akira nishikiyama #nishikiyama x reader #nishiki x reader #yakuza #oneshotwednesdays #personalwritings #nishiki #nishikiyama #fishikoi is a pure boi #and a misunderstood character who just needed his kyoudai

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wann-der-lusst · 3 years

Text

Dream

by Marinel Agcaoli

There are two people who love each other purely it is Christian and Marga. Because of their love it also caused a lot of pain in their lives especially Christian.

Christian and Marga live next door in a place called Emerald Street. Christian has an admiration for his neighbor Marga she is smart, hardworking, beautiful, kind especially to her family, so that many man wants to court him. Christian always goes to Marga's house to ask for fruit and for Marga to notice him. Christian doesn't know that Marga also likes him for being a very kind person, hardworking, also loving to his family that they both share. Many months have passed many have also changed in their place as well as their feelings towards each other.

"Maybe this is the right time for me to take a step Christian said."

One day Christian saw Marga shopping at a store near them and Christian approached her to ask her a question and to ask for Marga's cellphone number so that they could talk wherever they were. Christian soon admitted that they were looking at the girl, Marga was so shocked that she suddenly cried and run away to go home. Christian did not understand why Marga suddenly left. Christian didn't know that the girl was also looking at him. A few days later the two decided to meet so that they could talk properly, so that it would be clear to them how they felt about each other. Christian didn't stop to say in front of marga that he loves it and at the same time Marga said "I love you too Christian!” From that moment they confessed and they became really overjoyed that the two felt because of their love. This lasted for two years and their tenderness never faded especially for Christian.

Until one day, Marga suddenly became ill for almost two weeks and Christian missed Marga so much that he could hardly see her. She can't go to Marga's house because Marga's parents don't know that she already has a boyfriend and especially because they don't have the same religion and Marga's father will be very angry when they find out. For almost two weeks of Marga's illness, you can see the collapse of her body. Until Marga's parents decided to take her to the doctor. They went to a private hospital near their place. A doctor immediately saw Marga and the doctor requested that Marga be given a laboratory test to diagnose her illness. After that, the doctor was seriously surprised by the results of Marga's check -up. "I'm sorry to announce that your daughter Marga has stage 3 cancer says the doctor". Marga's parents were shocked and Marga herself collapsed when she heard what the doctor said to them. "It's not true! I can't have this disease! No! Papa, mama ask us for a second test to be sure ..." Marga said.

The day came when Marga's parents were waiting to know the finals as a result of their second opinion in their second check-up for her illness. The Doctor came in and holding the result."I'm sorry to let you know that the final result was correct when you first visited the previous hospital." The doctor said.

"No! Why?! I don't want to die yet! I still have many dreams in life, they can't take them from me right away, no.!!! "Marga said. Marga's parents are crying a lot because Marga is their only child like Marga, her parents also have many dreams with her. On the day that Marga found out the final result of her illness, Marga decided to see Christian, after all, she had somewhat recovered from her illness and she was also quite strong. Marga called Christian, Christian immediately contacted him because he was so excited to see Marga. The next day they met in a park and when Christian saw Marga he immediately run towards him and he hugged her tightly because he missed Marga so much.

"How are you? Your body is too thin, what happened to you my love?" said Christian.

"It's nothing, my love, I got sick, so this is the result of my body collapsing suddenly. But now I'm regaining my strength because is healed for you, my love." Marga said. Marga decided to have a vacation in a cold place like Baguio and also to celebrate their upcoming anniversary. It was here that Marga decided to give Marga's beautiful gift to Christian, the most careful of the women, her virginity. The day came for the two of them on their anniversary, they toured and toured various tourist spots in Baguio, in the evening they went to a hotel where they stayed to rest. Marga prepared special candles and roses around and when Christian entered he was surprised to see Marga lying on the bed and naked. After that happy event especially for Christian because Christian knows how important a woman's virginity is so he was happy that his beloved Marga gave it to him even though he didn't ask for it.

Then that happy event happened especially to Christian because Christian knew how important a woman's virginity was so he was happy that his beloved Marga gave it to him even though he didn't ask for it. The sun came up when Christian woke up and Marga was not beside him and he saw a letter on the side of the bed and he read it.

"My dear Christian. Forgive me but I can't last this relationship. Forgive me. I don't want to hurt you but I have to do it so that you won't be hurt more when the time comes." After praying and reading Marga's letter to Christian, Christian's world suddenly collapsed with what was happening.

A month later, Marga noticed that she didn’t had yet a period after Christian had something with them, so Marga was scared and immediately bought a pregnancy test to make sure. It was immediately used to know the result and here it is a positive test. Marga was surprised when she saw the result and immediately went to her doctor. When she consulted her doctor she became angry and told Marga how she would be treated for her illness if she was carrying a child in her womb. Marga informed her parents and her own parents were shocked and angry as well. First of all Marga's parents did not know that she had a boyfriend. But Marga's parents did nothing because Marga was already pregnant with her child and would be their Grandson. Marga decided not to treat and take care of and make the child in her womb healthy even if it would cost her life. Because she wants to grow up and give birth to Christian's child even though her boyfriend doesn't know what's going on with Marga. Because Marga doesn't want to hurt Christian so much! Because it will break his heart to see the person you love so much than your life.

The month has passed since Marga will soon give birth to her son Christian. Marga is very weak because of her illness and it is also difficult for her to carry the child in her womb. The day came when the child was born and this is a very strong child he named it heaven because his face was an angel who descended from heaven. A few days later Christian was walking in a mall and he saw a friend of his and Marga, it was Dave. "How are you Christian? Dave said." I'm okay Christian said. "When Dave saw Christian he greeted him about Marga and him and here Christian found out that Marga had given birth which Christian was immediately surprised. Christian was surprised and thought that maybe when they separated, she immediately had a new boyfriend because he had a baby right away. Christain was angry when she heard about Marga she was very hurt. He went to Marga's house furious because of what he found out. But he didn't see Marga because it was still in the hospital the only one he caught there was his sister Rose. Here he learned the truth so much that he almost burst into tears at what he had learned. Here he finds out why Marga left him because he has cancer and he also finds out that Marga’s born child is their child. "Why didn't he say I shouldn't be with him and I take good care of him" Christian said while he was crying. '' The next day Christian immediately went to Marga to talk properly because they didn't meet after their anniversary in Baguio. In a room where Marga was confined, he entered and saw his beloved Marga. Christian was very saddened by what he saw because Marga had changed so much in his body and in his appearance.He approached her and greeted Marga. christain said "Love .. ?? How are you? why did you let fight alone ?. Marga cried and was very excited to see Christian." Love ... Forgive me if I didn't tell you everything. I don't want to hurt you because it will break my heart more my dear Christian "said Marga. After Marga and Christian were able to talk. Marga showed their beautiful baby Heaven. Christian was very happy to see their daughter and Christian promised that he would take care of them both so that he would wake up and he would make up for the months and hours he had not been with Marga. a few days later Christian kat Marga's recovery was so overwhelming that she really cared and took care of it as well as baby heaven who was a super sane child. The day came when Marga requested to buy her favorite stitch qwek qwek and she immediately bought it outside. When Christian went up to Marga's room, there were doctors running to Marga's room, Christian immediately ran to see what had happened. Marga's parents immediately heard screams and cries. Christian who seemed to be crying inside the room. he saw Marga covered with a white blanket and Christian cried and hugged Marga. "Love !!!! this is what you bought huhuhuhu !!! I just bought it for a while why did you leave me right away my love ..... !!!!!! said christian. After Christian cried it promised Heaven will be taken care of as well as he loves Marga and he will fill her with love.After they woke up Christian woke up to the fact that it was just a dream and he seemed stunned because it seemed to be true but on the other hand It was just a dream. A few days later, Christian decided to wander outside and get some fresh air. While Christian was driving, a woman suddenly appeared on the road and hit him. He immediately get out of the car to find out the condition of a woman and it is surprised because on the other hand the woman he dreamed of is facing him now and that is where my story about Christian and Marga ends.

#short stories

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zamilemzizi · 3 years

Text

A trip down lockdown memory lane!

A trip down memory lane

As my business steadily builds itself back up, with a new face and some Covid-influenced changes, I look back at what it was like for a few months last year as just the “Mom.” The South African lockdown, one of the strictest in the world at that time, forced most of us Marketing and PR SME owners to close our doors and focus on creating a safe and “new normal” environment for ourselves and our families.

My parents both contracted the Corona Virus and so, it was left up to me to care for ALL five grandchildren for a few months. Including my own children, I had two five-year-olds’ (one boy; Wandi and one girl; Koli), one nine-year-old girl (Thotse), a twelve-year-old girl (Lungi) and the legend himself, my two-year-old son (Bugsy) whom you will have read a lot about on my personal Facebook page. As if that was not enough, we rescued an eight-week-old puppy (Luna) too!

Being a person known for preferring the company of all the Mzizi grandchildren, I was up for the challenge of this time spent being reacquainted with the daily struggle of just-being-the-mom-with-no-work without the pressure of having to go to work.

I acknowledge that my experience of this time is grossly different to that of a majority of my fellow countrymen/women, who struggled to make ends meet. Zam’s Hive started a fund, which generously received funds donated by almost ALL of my clients, close friends and colleagues from my place of work. We used these funds to assist families who wrote in via WhatsApp and SMS stating what their urgent needs were and paired them with the correct donor. I was astounded at how the people I knew were able to look beyond their own experience of the Lockdown, and were able to give the little (or lot) that they had to keep hope alive.

However, being the stay-at-home mom yielded quite a few hilarious experiences, which naturally, I shared on social media as they happened. Here are some of these posts. I hope they make you chuckle a bit at my expense. I hope they remind you that no matter how bleak the situation, our inner circle, our families, our children, the people that matter most to us are the ones we should keep our focus on.

How the wars began…

Wandi’s benevolent fart

Raising boys is a BREEZE!

My Wandi has reached that age where every hug and cuddle is a conscious decision on his part to be with me. It says, ' I choose to be near YOU. I choose you, mommy'

So imagine my joy as I was working in my office and my big boy chose that moment to sit on my lap...

He sat facing me, flashed his special smile and said' 'Mommy, let me show you how much I love you'

He put his hands on my shoulders and closed his beautiful brown eyes. I could see him mentally reaching deep within himself in order to share what he had to say. Then...

I felt it. A persistent drill-like hammering on my sturdy thigh where his bony bum was perched.

The stench was instant and the fog it created in my mind was confusion personified. I could not immediately compute that my baby came all this way just to fart on me. As realization dawned on me, my little angel held onto me just a little bit tighter to keep me in place as the hammer-drill was still operating. My thin leggings were no barrier from the barrage of bodily functions battering my poor skin.

During this assault, Wandi did not change his facial expression at all. He looked like a little Buddha bestowing a blessing upon a lesser mortal.

When he was done, he nimbly sprang off my leg and bestowed a beguiling cherubic smile upon me. Slowly reversing from the room with his cheesy smile and eyes closed, he blessed me with his benevolent ' enjoy the smell mommy' and quietly closed the door.

Bugsy drinks shit water

I'm on my knees begging for this changeling to be taken. Return Bugsy pre-terrible twos to me please!

I went into the toilet for a teensy while. I'd been holding it in for some time chasing my kids around. To my knowledge, fake Bugsy was safely chilling on my bed.

As my empty bladder and I float out the bathroom, changeling proudly displays a cup of water he is drinking...now this is a problem because all taps and cups are beyond his reach. This cup looks like the dirty one I ignored on the floor a teensy while back- are you judging me Karen?!

I frantically urge fake son to show me if he got water from the other toilet. He proudly replies, ' I no drink here Wandi peepee here' This is good. It's great actually. Wandi has diarrhea and drinking from his toilet could kill someone. Never mind Corona.

So I drag the smirking not-really-my-son into the kitchen to wash this mysterious cup. At this stage I'm fuming at the lord thinking 'turn this crap into wine NOW'

As I wash the still alcohol free cup, I turn to find swopped-at-birth guy smacking his lips and drinking from the bucket mqobothi style.

MY HEART SKIPS A BEAT!

I used water and Jik to clean dog poop just now. I spilled the water but clearly not all of it. What's worse here? Jik poisoning or dog poop poisoning?

The terror child is ok. I gave him milk and surrendered the rest to his creator.

I'm ok. I have a new twitch in my eye and I think I might have peed my pants a little. But otherwise baaah I'm good.

No really.

Just fine.

Look- fake son took the tin of milk and smeared the stuff on himself.

I'm just FINE!

Then the tensions were rising

The stand off

In a bid to demonstrate his defiance of my authority, my two year old has taken the long life milk and some shopping bags to an undesirable corner of the house. He has boldly announced that, 'I puttinnnin me in noty cona' This is his strategy to deprive my authority of putting him in a corner myself. The standoff continues...

Sulking in the shower

I swear I don't make this stuff up...

Wandi just played with matches and his cousins came to tell on him. Naturally I gave him 'the look' times 10. He says to me,

'I know you're cross with me and wont talk to me.'

He stalks off to the shower and sits there while singing his new and spontaneously composed struggle song. The words weren't too clear but this is what I heard:

Take me away in peace, take me away in peace.

Please note he has taken to eating some of his meals in this shower.

Can someone please send me a bottle of gin??! Its for the kids.

The breaking point

Exacting revenge in small ways

My kids broke my hair clippers machine while I was cutting them. So now I'm leaving them with unfinished cuts because one needs to take revenge wherever the opportunity may present itself-even if it's your own kids. They think they know me. Mxim!

Mom flu strike

I've been in bed with flu for a week now. During this my kids haven't given me an inch of space and rest.

I'm still a horse, jungle gym, chef, personal snot cleaner and unwilling audience to dance shows and song decompositions.

Tonight was just the worst! I went to the chemist for more meds and so needed a nap from the trip. Only to realize that I'd over slept and it was supper time.

After a mad dash to cook, serve and feed the royal highnesses, I'd had enough.

Where am I now? What am I doing now? These are all relevant questions I'm happy to answer for you.

I'm in my bedroom. For the first time since I became a mother, I have done the only sensible thing a tired parent can do...

I'VE LOCKED MY BEDROOM DOOR BIYAAACHES!

The situation update is as follows:

Hostile!

1. Two year old has attempted breaking door down

I DON'T CARE!

2. Five year old has resorted to creepy body plastering against door and quietly chanting 'mooommyyyy can we have ice cream while you die?'

I DON'T CARE

3. In a rare show of solidarity the boys are now howling like wolves outside the door, throwing in the odd 'moooommmy where are youuuu'

I D O N T C A R E!

4. Nine year old niece has increased the volume and frequency of her coughing

IIIIIIIII DOOOOOOOONT CAAAAAAARE!

I'm at peace in my warm bed. Let the siege continue I have all that I need in here. A bathroom, all the toilet paper in the house, the only phone with airtime and did I mention -I'm the only person tall enough to cook. Muhahuahua!

They will know me!

The resolution?

Wandi prays for peace

So as usual the kids were acting up and driving me crazy before bedtime. This time however, the transgressions were extreme.

Someone didn't pee INSIDE the toilet but decided to mark his territory next to it instead.

Another decided to generously leave food on a dinner plate and put it in the kitchen sink for Santa maybe.

Another was dejectedly roaming the passage without pajama bottoms like a homeless person. Left to wander the night in shame and bottomlessness.

This was the last straw and I blew my top off.

EVERYONE TO BED WITHOUT A STORY NOW!

Even the little one understood that Armageddon was nigh, and scurried into bed as fast as his fat stubby legs could carry him (only half way up the bed usually).

In an unusually respectful and hesitant tone, Wandi bravely reminded me that I forgot to pray. So fine! I asked God to please help me make my children good etc.

Wandi again bravely offered to pray too and this is where he played his master plan into action (he never wants to pray):

Wandi: Dear God, please make all my dreams come true. The end.

Yes. He said the end and not AMEN. I felt a reluctant smile coming on but I was wise to the enemy.

The next morning the kids all came to greet me in that way guilty kids do hoping for a cease-fire.

'Good morning rakhali' etc.

Then the master played his Ace move.

Wandi: In the name of Jesus, good morning everyone!

How could I remain grumpy after my son evoked the name of Jesus?!

He's goooooood. One point to Wandi. None to me.

Please subscribe to my blog and follow me on social media for more insights into; what goes on in the life of a working mom building an empire. All the links are below. My women’s network as well as my courses are also available on this site.

#workingmama #workingmom #zamshive #liveyourbestlife #zamilemzizi #startsomething

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rosesanthology · 4 years

Text

Across time | Akaashi Keiji x F!reader [soulmate!AU]

for this one i tried a little bit of world building to put more context into some stuff as i suck at accurate and realistic historical aeras, this ended up being WAY longer than planned oof also YES i 100% took the well idea from Inuyasha👉🏽👈🏽

- Moeru Fukuro means blazing owl

- au where the reader finds themselves enamored far beyond the limits of alternate timeline and universes

[Tags] : @raevaioli @chenle @lcaita and @lceiji

- it was all because of a stupid dare

- it's a shame you agreed to do anything when more than 50$ were on the line (O.O)

- your friends from high school thought it seemed like SUCH a good idea to dare you to spend 3 hours in the woods next to your house in exchange for 60$

- the 3 hours of course starting from midnight

- but you weren't one to back down from that kind of stuff

- no sir

- the only thing you had to do was to wait by the abandoned well surrounded by trees without anything to distract you (you trusted them with your phone anyway)

- tonight wasn't even that cold anyway

-so here you were, waiting for time to pass as you listened to the sounds around you

- you found it absolutly mesmerizing, how everything around you had its own identity through the sounds made

- you had always felt calmer in moments like these, by yourself at nighttime, just taking everything in

- you had been to this well many times before, the old lady who lived accross from your appartment told you that it was used as a wishing well most of the time

- she spoke of how many people through the times had thrown coins into the unsettling darkness of the pit and wished for true love and stuff like that

- the other day, you had found her there and she told you about how that very same well helped her meet her soulmate

- you hardly believed her

- the wishing part ? Okay. It's a normal thing to throw coins into fountains and wells and pray for things. But soulmates ? That seemed like a reach

- so you felt pretty dumb for staring into the dark pit of most likely freezing water as intensely

- you also felt pretty dumb for making sure that you brought a coin with you on this outting

- okay maybe......the idea of finding your soulmate was not so repulsive.... (◡‿◡✿)

- you didn't hope it would work too hard but still.....just sayin that it would be nice

- so, you threw the coin, listening to its sound as it came in contact with the water at the bottom after a long fall and you started praying

- "i don't really know how this is supposed to be done but....if the stories are true can i please meet the love of my life ? If not possible i also accept checks and cash (▰˘◡˘▰)"

- you didn't really mean the money part

- but you know.....getting rich isn't that bad

- at that moment you felt smart for bringing a hoodie because ???? The wind was extremely strong all of a sudden like ?? Sheesh

- you were about to sit down and cuddle into your hoodie for warmth but then u SWORE U HEARD A VOICE COMING FROM THE WELL

- and you aint crazy but you're about dumb enough to lean your head above the opening to hear better

- i think you know where this is going....

- the wind's strength had you tumbling down the well in no time

- time seemed to slow down as you plummeted toward the surface of the water

- soon you came in contact with it, cold soaking your clothes and hurting all the way to your bones. You could see the moon thru the suprisingly clear water as well as the bubbles from your last reserve of air, all this caused you to pass out.

- in the capital of the kingdom MoeruFukuro, they were many things ; from kind townfolks, to golden rice paddies and from a gorgeous royal castle to roaming forest demons

- you heard me right

- the lands around were infested by demons and spirited who manifested at night, some benevolant and others not so much

- thankfully for the royal priest Tsukishima's magical talismans placed all around the town, the people could leave in peace, the malignant creatures knowing better than trying to overcome the spells

- the capital could pride itself all around the country for having ones of the most powerful and smart array of people there ever were in addition to being prosperous from the folks' trade businesses

- for example, in the royal palace, you could find as forementionned priest and mage; Tsukishima Kei, legend has it that he was blessed by Kaguya, the goddess of the moon herself in order to have such knowledge of spells

- there was also General Kuroo Tetsurou, who had his fair share of tales and admirers alike, the biggest one being the one in which he had saved a thousand men from a demon by sacrificing himself, earning its respect and protection in battle

- obviously there was the crowned prince, Bokuto Koutaro. Well he might seem a little air headed and childish at first sight but he takes his duties very seriously even if they consist in little things such as gathering the peoples' eventual complaints himself, some people going as far as saying that he is the closest thing to a god on earth

- and then, wherever Bokuto went, it would be near impossible to forget about his right arm and advisor, the wise and renowned astronomer Akaashi Keiji. If Tsukishima had been blessed by the moon goddess then many people believed that Akaashi was the one who tought Omoikane, god of wisdom and intelligence himself, everything he knew. He was everything people wished they were, calm, good looking, creative, reasonable and intelligent beyond mesure. No wonder he was the one Bokuto trusted the most by his side

- studying the sky also brought Akaashi much knowledge on seasons and the movements of stars and such, providing help to both the people and Tsukishima

- Akaashi did not live in the castle however, well technically yes but he did have a workshop of his own a bit farther in the territory, where he could dedicate himself to staring at the night sky he loved so very very much from his makeshift observatory/rooftop

- he also had a lovely well near his observation tower that Tsukishima had passive agressively insisted on cleansing for him (>.<)

- so there he was, in this particularly enchanting night

- something about that full moon, shining stars and clear sky just about almost got some tears out of him

- but he was interrupted when he heard a low growl from beneath his observation tower

- naturally he looked down to where it came from and saw a fire fox spirit inching suspiciously close to an unconscious girl on the ground near the well

- the demons avoided the talismans yes but that far from the heart of the city trickster spirits and ghouls could just about do as much chaos as they pleased

- rushing to get down, Akaashi took his bow and arrows ready to get rid of the spirit and make sure the girl, no matter how strange her clothes looked like, was safe

- it was fast work, his arrows reaped through the night air seemingly at lighting speed and quickly made the spirit disappear

- muttering a small banishing prayer he picked up the passed out girl and brought her on top of his observatory

- she was dry but she was still shivering from the cold

- "she must not be used to the cold" thought the young astronomer, taking off his haori to put on top of her frame and sitting down next to her, looking downwards at her now relaxed features

- he did not know why he brought her up there but right now it just felt right. So he went on with looking at the sky, resting his hands flat on the ground near his sides

- you were awake, enough to feel a warmth next to you but not enough to open your eyes yet

- you thought that you'd fallen asleep after making the wish and that your friends had carried you back to your room or something

- but it was to cold to be true

- you peaked slightly from between your lashes and were met with a GORGEOUS night sky

- usually in your city, the sky was too polluted to be able to see that many

- and the full moon seemed closer than usual, bewitching, enchanting, almost asking you to come to her, so in a way you did

- now fully awake, you outstretched your hand toward the celestial body, not really thinking in the moment

- "you're awake ! How are you feeling ?" said a silvery soft voice, almost similar to a whisper

- so similar you thought that you were still dreaming as it was the same one you've heard before imagining falling into the well

- your train of thought was quickly cut short by the feeling of warm hands around your own outstreched one

- oh this was definitly real

- you sat up im a swift movement, looking around you and only seeing trees and rice paddies, as well as the lights of a town in the distance

- you almost didn't hear the man's voice over your own rapidly beating heart

- almost

- "Everything's okay now, calm down" he said, probably noticing your panic and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles

- his words seemed to immediatly sink into your very soul at the second they came out of his mouth, and worst is that you thought that if it meant to be marked in such a way you would be glad to have your soul inked all over with just his words

- but you still didn't know him so you kept that thought to yourself

- "who are you and where am i ?" Your voice was so shaky and your mind so foggy that you weren't even sure if they ever made it out of your throat

- but Akaashi heard you loud and clearer than anything before, just touching your hand had seemed like such a common task but the needle like sensation that ran up his whole arm begged to differ, he regained his composure fast though

- "my name's Akaashi Keiji and you're in the kingdom of MoeruFukuro" he made sure to speak as softly as possible, never letting go of your hand, fearing that maybe, if he let go you would disappear back into the wind

- ".....my name's Y/N L/N....listen i don't think im supposed to be here- well more like...now"

- "what do you mean ?"

- and so you explained to him how you actually came from the 21st century in what you could only assume to be another timeline and universe, trying to sound as calm as possible

- because well, you weren't dumb, and castle as "cool and fantasy anime looking like that" were not so common

- Akaashi kept drinking in your voice, painfully aware of every movement of your face, every little speaking quirk and tones, never breaking contact

- he was fast in reassuring you on his own world, he spoke of his life, of his friends and of the castle, not leaving out the fact that demons and spirits were a common factor, carefully choosing his phrasing and explaining with the most concise words

- explaining so well that you felt as if you already knew all these things, deep in yourself

- and time passed

- you soon found yourself laying on you back, fingers still intertwined with the royal astronomer, talking about your lives, as if you were desperatly but as easily as breathing trying to make the other remember your existence, trying to get a part of your souls back

- the silence of the night made your voices reach the other in an almost pieircing melody, the deep blue and silver sky as your only witness of this moment

- "so you're an astronomer right.....why do you like the stars so much Keiji ?"

- oh man did he love hearing you say his name, it sounded like the rarest music he's ever heard coming from you

- "i guess it just comes easily to me....i've never felt lonely in the castle, my friends are supportive and strong even though i've never been particularly good with people....when i come here for reasons other than work and stare at the sky, it feels like im finally walking in my own feelings, finally able to search for something that i somehow always wanted..."

- he turned to your face and swore that he saw many more stars in your eyes than he has in his whole life and continued on

- " it feels- it felt like trying to find a part myself that had been fragmented and thrown into the universe....a part of myself that was very much more human than i thought"

- "oh" was all you could muster between that and the flood of feelings that was inside your heart

- you felt like you were running out of time.

- you felt like you had to make the most out of this precise instant.

- you suddenly jerked up, making Akaashi jump at the sudden move

- he sat up with you, facing you, unsure of what that was all about

- " Keiji !" You said, full of determination despite the advanced hour of the night, and when he nodded and smiled, humming slightly as response you took it as your greenlight to continue

- " Let's find each other again ! Whether it be in this life or another ! We're bounded together now and im sure whichever gods brought me to you will make it happen again no matter what. So you have to promise me before it's too late....don't forget about me !"

- Akaashi's eyes bore into yours with as much intensity as yours and returning the smile you wore on your face

- he let go off your hand for the first time that night and you felt as if an invisible countdown just started somewhere

- he took of a teal and marine blue colored thread bracelet that he wore and put in on your wrist, it had a small crescent moon symbol made of nacre on it....how in character

- how....him

- "there. That way i won't ever forget you. I sure hope you don't forget about me either"

- the last thing your remembered was the gorgeous yet so undoubtfully sad smile of the astronomer before waking up, warm, in your own bed

- you looked around in a hurry and little did you know, you were back into your appartment's bedroom

- you figured it was just a dream

- and yet your heart was still beating against your ribcage and tears were stinging your eyes

- you looked at your phone to check the time since the sun had already went up and your eyes fell on the bracelet you were wearing on your wrist

- you wasted no time in DASHING out of your appartment straight to the old lady's, well too aware that what had happened last night was definitely not a dream

- as you rung the doorbell you were too busy trying to calm your heart that was still trying to beat out of your chest to hear an all too familiar voice from inside the appartment saying "i'll take this"

- the door opened and you almost fainted

- "hi ! Im Akaashi Keiji your new neighbor from next door.....have we met before ?"

#okay im actually quite proud of this one #AT SOME POINT I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED A WHOLE PARTY AND HAD TO REWRITE IT SO PLEASE #HAVE MERCY #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #akaashi haikyuu #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi hcs #akaashi imagine #akaashi angst #akaashi au

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thegoldofyourheart · 5 years

Text

The Gold of Your Heart Chapter 26

Word count: 2575

Pairings: Romantic Roceit

Warnings: Talk of cannibalism, slight body horror

First | <== Previous | Next ==> | Masterpost

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Roman had gone insane. Then again, Tony corrected himself, Roman would have to have been sane in the first place to go insane. Thinking about it in that sense meant Tony only had himself to blame for this predicament. Which was in a sense, fair, not that he would ever admit it out loud to anyone. Maybe Thomas if he needed to but on the other hand Tony would prefer if everything about this situation died in a deep dark hole.

He picked up his pace to try and keep up with Roman’s quick strides through the halls.

“You do realize,” he said dryly, “That your plan to find Apathy requires that you first find Apathy.”

“Bah!” Roman waved him off, and Tony fought down an amused grin. “Trust! That is what you lack! Trust in my brilliance and how it will pay off! I can make a way to track down Apathy wherever the villain goes! All it will take is a little blood!”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, fingers twitching with the urge to prod at Roman’s side. They weren't like that. They weren’t friends. “Except, again, to get blood from Apathy you have to first find Apathy.”

“Simple!” Roman throw his hands in the air and paused at the crossroads they came too. “We need bait! My fabulous face should be enough. He will be like a moth attracted to my flame and light!”

“Meaning if we do manage to defeat Apathy when we find him, your brilliant idea won’t be needed?”

Roman’s footsteps faltered.

“Ah, yes, well-”

“We could consider the bait as your brilliant idea,” Tony mused, throwing him a bone. Roman perked up, almost like a puppy given a treat, and Tony wondered what Roman would look like with ears and a tail. It would be nice not to be the only one slightly inhumane.

“Of course!” Roman sniffed and reached out to shove him in the arm. Tony kept his surprise carefully internal at the easy, casual way that Roman touched him. Of course, Roman had been like that with Tony as a snake too. It had been easy to write off as him being considered a Construct, but now Tony wondered if Roman was like that with everyone.

He thought about the way that Roman treated Virgil and changed his mind. Maybe this was how the older, accepting Roman treated people. He was so desperate to do things right after all Swinging back and forth based off what other people told him was best. Thomas’ dreams, Patton’s directions, Logan’s advice. He had hated Virgil with a fiery passion because he had felt he was supposed to.

Tony had spent years telling Roman that he wasn’t a bad guy. Only now was it taking root against the other’s words, because they hadn’t been right about Virgil either. Tony scowled into the distance. No, they had been right about Anxiety, but then Anxiety became Virgil.

Like how he had become Tony.

Fuck.

He was never letting Virgil know what had happened. Ever. He’d never hear the end of it, and that would be the best possible outcome to that situation.

“All of my ideas are brilliant!” Roman turned down a different corner, and Tony began to doubt that he had an actual destination in mind. Of course, playing bait would mean that they had to be visible and loud. Wandering around Thomas’ mind would accomplish one of those things. Which meant they needed to be loud.

“All of them? No exceptions?” Tony mused aloud, “I’m sure we could find one or two lumps of coal in the shining diamonds of your mind.”

Roman’s face twitched. Tony fought down another urge to reach out and touch. Distance. They had a distance between them that he needed to remember. He couldn’t fall into the habits he had formed as a snake. No one minded a full snake touching them, or at least no one in Thomas’ mind. Everyone minded a monster like him touching without permission.

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult,” Roman shoved a finger in Tony’s direction. Tony stared at it, and very carefully did not snap at it. “Cease with your games fiend!” Roman’s hand reach towards the ceiling. “I will come out on top in the end!”

“Like how you came out on top in the discussion with Virgil about Disney.”

“Silence!” Roman’s voice boomed out across the hallway and Tony couldn’t stop the chuckle that came from the back of his throat. Then again, he couldn’t seem to stop a lot around Roman lately. He almost felt lighter than he ever had. He’d have called it comfort if it weren’t for the threat of Apathy hanging over their heads.

“But if I’m silent how shall I ever talk about the gems that your mind holds?” Tony’s grin grew as Roman wavered. “Like the idea that Dory is faking her memory loss in order to have an advantage in survival.”

Tony hummed under his breath as he waited for Roman to make the connection. He doubted that the idea was true, but well, there was a sort of fun in lies winding someone else up. False information could be used to entertain as Roman no doubt knew. The screech that drowned out all other noise filled Tony with triumph.

“How dare-!” Roman’s arms flew through the air as he pulled to an abrupt stop. Tony leaned back against the wall to watch the show. “She- you- Finding Nemo-!” Roman breathed out harshly and narrowed his eyes at Deceit. “How dare you insult such a wondrous movie!”

“Have you ever looked up what short term memory loss entails?” Tony asked. He rather wanted to know. Logan might have but Tony doubted that Roman had looked into.

“No! But she had no reason to trick them!”

Tony stretched his fingers out, studying he ends of his gloves. They didn’t need to be replaced quite yet, but maybe soon. He had a few extra pairs in his closet. The silence wound Roman up even further and Tony smirked.

“Survival.”

“They would have helped her anyways!”

“She had no way of knowing that!”

Roman’s hands sliced through the air in wild patterns. Tony wondered if he ever tried painting like that. Then again, abstract seemed more Remus’ thing. Roman would want it to be perfect and nothing abstract would fit into his definition of perfection. He’d rather copy all the great artists to find inspiration rather than let his feelings out. Tony hummed to himself and wondered if the other Sides had caught on to that yet.

“I- you-” Roman growled. He paced the hallway in front of Tony and ran a hand through his hair. “She agreed to help them out! She spent so long looking for her parents!”

“Survival,” Tony repeated, his voice liting into almost song.

“You can’t use that as your answer for everything!” Roman sounded like a meteor storm. Bright and loud and eye catching. Beautiful and deadly. Tony shook his head.

“Sure I can,” he pushed off of the wall and wandered down the hall. Baiting Apathy meant making sure that they spread their noise everywhere. They just had to be careful near the Mind Palace but Tony doubted Apathy would go there. Trying to face all four Sides would be suicide after all.

“I can use it to explain Wall-E too,” Tony called over his shoulder. Roman’s footsteps hurried behind him and Tony grinned into the distance. Honestly, if he were willing to think positively about Virgil he’d agree about the fact that winding Roman up like a top was the most entertainment he had in years.

Only Virgil wouldn't be about the winding up, or even agree that it was fun. Virgil would be too panicked about upsetting Roman to have fun with it. He argued because he disagreed. He insulted because he hated. Tony shook his head and took a sharp turn.

“Fiend!” Tony focused on Roman’s voice instead of his bitter thoughts. Anxiety was in the past. Creativity the present. “Don’t you dare ruin the foundations of Thomas’ childhood!”

“I wouldn’t be ruining it,” Tony said mildly, “Just explaining where they got all the food they ate in the movie.”

“Greenhouses!” Roman screeched, coming up to his side and looking fit to tear his hair out. “They had greenhouses that grew the plants!”

“But they didn’t know what plants looked like.”

“Don’t you dare! Fiend! Villain! Childhood ruiner!”

“Creative,” Tony hummed and adjusted his hat, bracing himself for what would come next. He spoke over Roman’s offended noise. “But if they don’t know what plants look like they had to have been using something else. There was only one other viable option on that ship-”

“I swear to all things we find holy-” Tony cackled as he dashed out of the way of Roman’s lunge. His cape fluttered just out of Roman’s reach, brushing against his fingertips. “-if you finish that sentence-”

“-is the passengers!” Tony shouted as he broke out into a run. “They had to have eaten-”

“Deceit! Stop!” Tony stuck his tongue out at Roman, “No really-!”

The world tilted violently and Tony blinked the stars out of his eyes. Ah yes, there was a wall there. His hand brushed against the ground as he reached around to find his hat. He laid back and meet Roman’s concerned eyes. He took a deep breath and smirked at Roman before he could voice his question. Tony knew what he’d ask and he really didn’t want to know what would come out of his mouth if Roman asked if he was alright.

“I haven’t even started on Toy Story,” he said breathlessly, and the concern fled from Roman’s eyes as offence returned. Tony rolled out of the way of Roman’s tackle with a laugh. Roman’s hand clamped around his ankle and dragged him back.

“Oh no you don’t,” Roman growled. Tony kicked out of his grip and scrambled to his feet. Roman lunged at him again, colliding with his side. They rolled across the ground together until Roman straddled him triumphantly, grinning above him. “You’re dark conspiracy days are over Phantom of the Soap-opera!”

“Oh really?” Tony smirked, hooking his leg around Roman’s warm calf. His hands snapped out to grab Roman’s shoulders and with a heave, he rolled them over until he was the one on top. “And pray tell, how are you going to manage that?” he asked as he pinned Roman’s wrists to the floor.

Their chests pressed together, his cape fanning out around them. Tony could feel Roman trying to hold back desperate giggles as he fought down a smile of his own. Roman’s legs kicked out, struggling against his hold but Tony held his ground. He smirked down at Roman’s flushed face.

“Simple,” Roman said breathlessly. “Apathy’s right there.”

Tony threw himself off of Roman and whirled around. His heart jumped to his throat and his fingers curled into claws instinctively. Apathy would get to Roman over his dead body. Thomas could get by without Deception; Creativity and Passion were needed so much more than him. His eyes scanned the empty hallway and he blinked slowly.

Roman’s giggled broke out into full on laughter.

“Oh my god,” Roman gasped out, “You should have seen your face!”

Tony pressed his lips together.

“Glad to see you taking this so seriously,” he growled out. He smoothed out his clothes. Frustration beat at the edges of his senses. Not at Roman, but at himself. He had let himself get distracted. Running around the halls like they had with Apathy on the loose was the height of stupidity. They wouldn’t have noticed Apathy until he was right on top of them.

He gritted his teeth and stalked down the hall. He could hear Roman scrambling to his feet behind him. Hurried footsteps didn’t slow Tony down at all.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Roman’s hand wrapped around his wrist. Tony yanked his hand away from the soft touch and tugged his sleeve down. It did nothing to help the pleasant tingles against his skin. He didn’t turn to look at Roman, but stopped where he was.

“I’m sorry,” Roman said softly, “It was just a joke.”

“Oh, yeah, great joke.”

Tony glanced at the frown pulling at Roman’s face and looked away again. His hands curled into fists and he bit down on his tongue. Would it be better for Roman to know how dangerous this was? Would he even get it or would he assume that it wasn’t that bad no matter what Tony claimed?

“There’s no way he can be that dangerous,” Roman protested, and Tony scowled at the far wall. Roman’s voice grew insistent, “No way. Come on. we’ve got my fabulous and amazing self to start off with, and then we have your brilliance and illusions. There’s no way he’ll be able to top the two of us teaming up.”

“We did technically win the trial against the others,” Tony said slowly.

“We did!” Roman hesitated. “Is that a good example? I feel like that’s not a good example.”

Tony waved a hand through the air. Real Roman sounded a lot like his Head Roman. Concerned with right and wrong based off what Patton told him. Tony could push him to something more loose when it came to morals, but having someone to remind him when to back off a bit could be useful.

“It’s a fine example,” Tony said. He leaned in a bit closer to Roman, not quite touching. He took a deep breath. Roman had a point though. They would do better together than alone. Tony had been the one to suggest a team up. He reached out hesitantly to press his hand against Roman’s arm.

“It’s fine, Roman, don’t worry about-”

His fingers tingled as they passed through Roman’s arm. It lasted a fraction of a second, enough that Tony almost thought he imagined it. The stricken look on Roman’s face said otherwise. Tony felt his eyes widen. The feeling like he had stuck his hand in a socket faded, the horror in Roman’s eyes didn’t.

“Roman,” he breathed, an understanding curling around his heart. Of course Apathy held such power. Passion was dying.

Roman took a step back, shaking his head. Tony reached out again, question on his lips, about when it had gotten this bad, about what Roman needed, about how long Roman had left. Roman spun on his heels and dashed down the hallways. Tony let his hand drop and tugged his hat over his eyes.

It all added up. Roman lacked confidence. Without confidence, he couldn’t create as much as he used too. Passion would shrivel up without the inspiration, and with the way Thomas kept putting off his dreams. Tony gritted his teeth. Now with Apathy on the loose, Roman was being attacked on all sides. His physical form literally couldn’t keep up. He was starting to unravel. Literally.

No wonder Remy wanted Roman to talk to the others. A boost in confidence was needed. Desperately. Tony just didn’t know if the others could provide it at the moment. He let out a slow breath, eyes on the corner that Roman had disappeared around.

He needed to change his plans. Now. If Roman Unraveled completely it wouldn’t matter if Apathy was caught.

Passion would be gone anyways.

#Sanders sides #Roceit #Roman Sanders #Deceit Sanders #allusions to canabalism #body horror #slight body horror

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evie-morris · 4 years

Audio

I'm really glad I found my way to church 'Cause I'm already feelin' better And I thank God for the words Yeah, I'm gonna take the high road And do what the preacher told me to do You keep messin' up, and I'll keep prayin' for you

I pray your tire blows out at 110 I pray you pass out drunk with your best friend And wake up with his and her tattoos

I pray your brakes go out runnin' down a hill I pray a flower pot falls from a window sill And knocks you in the head like I'd like to I pray your birthday comes and nobody calls I pray you're flyin' high when your engine stalls I pray all your dreams never come true Just know wherever you are, near or far In your house or in your car Wherever you are, honey, I pray for you

#&&( lipstick in a cigarette pack on the dash; i'm a lady like that ) → musings #&&( do whatever for attention if i'm needin' it ) → playlist

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sketchesbydean · 4 years

Text

A Book I’m Writing: The Island Crown Ch. 1

A day would come when the tide might drop like the sky from above and vanish you in the closing mouth of a wave. Then the earth would turn black and dark with stillness, the light never to be seen again. That day was tomorrow for all Bali could see.

A sudden crackle spit white light across the gray-washed horizon and Bali grimaced. Then, like the two had corroborated together, a hand whacked her shoulder and sent her pencil in a jagged scribble down her brown page. But her string bound notebook laid unmoved on her lap, so she continued to write.

The hand came from a looming figure behind her. It crouched down again and delivered a series of whacks to her shoulder, knuckled and quick as to result in a mess of graphite punctures on her page. It was not enough to harm her, but irritating enough to enlist a response. Without a sigh, without a glance up, Bali slides her pencil into the book like a bookmark and confronts the horizon once more.

The unseen person had no effect on her, but the expanse of water was worrying. This time the figure nudges with their knee, leaning their weight on and off her back.

“Bali. Ba-li. Baa-li,” the figure whines.

She breathes in deep, mind nowhere near the interaction.

“Dinner’s ready.”

Bali gets up, as if she meant to do it of her own will all along. She turns to face Dewa, who towers over her like he does over everybody. Time had curbed her pride of being outgrown by her younger brother, but the thorn that said to splinter any challenge to her authority remained unmoved.

She walked towards land from the wide platform of the bamboo dock without acknowledging him, watching her feet land as a solid color beside the ever-shifting ripple of water.

As they walk back, Dewa nudges her with his shoulder again. It became bothersome and she tried with every ill-tempered cell in her body to remind herself that it was a coping mechanism. His behavior was affection that is not to be misinterpreted as malice, because although no one kept track of it and no one mentioned it, he knew about tomorrow too. Tomorrow was the day another sibling was sacrificed to the fairies.

Nine siblings had been sent to Nusa Irian to be fostered. Two were already gone, put on a ship and sent to the First Land where the fairies would eat their hearts for breakfast. Jusuf and Wayan had been gone nearly a year and no word reached the younger siblings of whether they had survived the journey. The seven remaining on the island thought about them everyday, waiting scared and silent for their turn to be taken away. Bali wondered what the ship that carried her tomorrow would look like.

The fifty or so meters went quick and before Dewa could adjust to the solidness of dirt at the end, Bali suddenly nudges him back with more strength than he knew she had. He stumbled towards the forest but stayed off the ground, smirking at her and resorting to words instead.

“We’re going to be late. Nearly an hour’s ride and you’re slow. A fallen tree in our path sends you around instead of over,” he said.

“That’s Suri, you idiot. I can ride.”

Bali slides her notebook into her back pocket and uses the dock’s railing as a pedestal to get on her horse. Dewa pushes at Bali’s horses’ shoulder to stir it awake before getting on his own.

“Ugh. I have too many sisters, that’s a fact.”

They chuckle only to realize they had it wrong. A quiet moment.

“Tomorrow, there’ll be one less,” Bali whispered.

Dewa raises a sarcastic shrug, “Heartless. You’re heartless leaving me like this.” It’s a coping mechanism indeed.

“I’ll be the one without a heart soon, stabbed or eaten no less.”

“Good, Suri is definitely the better rider.”

“Rude! You can’t talk to a queen like that.”

“You can if you’re a king!,” Dewa is off into the woods. She watches him for a moment, a flash of competition in her eyes, but the quiet creeps in again. Bali turns to squint at the sea. Beyond the horizon, hidden by the clouds, was a place she didn’t allow herself to think of. Tomorrow she would cross the water to set foot there, once there the First Land would be the only thing on her mind. Everything in Nusa Irian, including her six younger siblings and her foster parents would be only a dream.

The next time her younger siblings see her would either be at their coronation or her funeral. Bali turned to the trees and rode forward. She thought she heard another crackle but could not distinguish it from her breaking heart. Her stomach sunk into a chasm she didn’t know existed and her mind told her why: there would be no farewells after dinner, the events of her last night as a child would start and end as a blur. Then, the next day would appear swiftly, and she would walk to the ship as a blank canvas, without a thought in her mind. Her body would move by its own volition to the Main Shore.

And she was right, the next morning when she left, she had no recollection of leaving her bed or walking out the front door. All she knew was that she took a small backpack and fit inside it a single book, praying there would be paper wherever she ended up. In her head, she listed the names of the siblings she would leave behind on Nusa Irian: Tanu, Dewa, Asia, Merah, Suri, and Java. This might be the last time she ever saw them.

Outside, the air felt tight and humid at first, but as the sky lightened up, a freshness and clarity came to her breath. That is all she remembered from her walk to the house to the shore.

The ship was sitting silently by the wooden dock, not to be spotted in yesterday’s horizon but now monumentally present. Mugi Rahayu was painted in golden cursive on the ship’s side. The Captain of the Mugi Rahayu was a man of shorter than average height with skin like coffee and white hair. He dressed simply and had a red headwrap protecting him from the heat. Bali noted the most jewelry she had ever seen collected on his fingers, arms and ears. Nothing ostentatious with pearls or colored gems, only bands of silver and gold. But for all of this he was barefoot. His name was Nyoman.

Nyoman sat on the railing by the plank that served as a stairway up. He saw her and croaked in the voice of an avid sailor with never enough water in his throat, laughed at by the salty sea.

“You’re late.”

He waved at the plank and waited for her in his seat. She climbed up, peaking at the deck. The Crew sprawled playing cards, they didn’t even look up when her head bobbed into view. It was clear to her from then that she wasn’t royalty to them, not yet. Nyoman beckoned her over, he had twisted around, legs now facing the Crew.

“Bali Batavia?”

She nods. Bali bit her lips from inside her mouth, unwilling to let her mouth open. Any word to come would crack in half and tears would stream out before she would have the chance to blink. Nyoman figured as much. He jumped off his seat, held a steady hand on her arm and walked her to the middle of the deck where a cluster of wooden crates were.

“Sit.”

She does.

“Two nights. Three days.”

She nods.

“When we arrive, I will give you some information. The same information I give to all the siblings that have ever made this journey. We will not anchor when we reach land, you will step off a moving ship and you will not turn around to watch us leave.”

Bali opens her mouth to ask a question, but he cuts her off.

“Yes, I sent your brother and sister. They came just after midnight on their seventeenth birthday. Which makes you late.”

He saw her eyes plead for more.

“I have known all the siblings. You parents and their parents. I send you to the island as an infant and I take you away from it. And when the Old Kings and Queens die, I will be the one to deliver you to your coronation. This was my job before you, it will be my job after you. That is all.”

This is what he said when the ship lurched forward and left the island, Bali hasn’t moved since. She learned that the crew was pleasant enough. They brought her food and asked her to join the card game or dance at night. She supposed they knew something about living quietly before abruptly being called into service. Just like Uncle Wayan and Indra, the Crew inherited this ship. The Mugi Rahayu and its Crew was married at birth. Most jobs were inherited in their history.

But islanders were a distinct creature, they were forced by the sun to take on their true colors inside and out. Dark with warmth and freckled from dappled rays obscured by formless clouds. And their hair was always tinged at the ends, like the sun was slowly creeping its way in from outside. The blonde mess of tips appeared on braids and dreads, curls and locks. It’s an agreement the sun had with the sea, these people were theirs and it would show. Meanwhile the fairies turned red in the blistering shine, and their skin began to peel.

Night one came and went, the time between sunrise and sunset a mere breath. Night two was the same. Bali couldn’t talk if she wanted to, it would have come out as a whisper. She felt that if she held all her thoughts inside her, she kept something from snapping. If she talked now then the chances of this being a dream came to an end. Hands worked all around her while she read the only book she brought once, and then again. She had overheard several conversations during the course of the second day, but only one was of any import to her. The first sailor whispered in the same croaking voice the Captain had,

“So there are six siblings left?”

“Yup, there are nine siblings inheriting the Thirtieth Reign,” the second sailor replied, “She’s the third, and the other six are waiting to turn seventeen. At seventeen they become property of the crown, before they are called into service as Rulers, they must sacrifice themselves to the fairies..”

“The fairies don’t tolerate anyone but their own people, they wouldn’t be safe there. They could die!”

“That is how they prove themselves worthy to be crowned the New Kings and Queens of the Nusa, that’s why it’s called a sacrifice. If they can live long enough for the crown to call them home, we will sail them home.”

“But how long must they be sacrificed to the fairies?”

“That’s easy. When the Old Kings and Queens die.”

They both shrug and so the conversation ended, Bali left contemplating her fate once again. It seemed everyone knew what the future held for her except Bali herself.

At the helm, Nyoman watched her and croaked to the crew around him.

“She’s so damn quiet. Don’t know if it’s retardness or poise.”

“Cap, they’re getting more and more aloof this Ruling Family. I’m not even sure we’ll have anyone to sail back to the coronation,” a sailor said.

“Traitors. fairy lovers,” piped another man.

“No,” Nyoman croaked, “Free.”

Bali read on though she heard every word. Then it was the third day and by midday she saw the island running towards her. The Crew’s eyes made their way towards her, waiting for any reaction. They wanted fear or delight, hate or wonder. So she gave them nothing. They saw her eyes peer up at the horizon and back down onto the page without even a sigh. Uncle Wayan and Indra taught her exactly one thing, every lesson, lecture or yelling fit all boiled down to a single fact. They raised her to know they were equal. Kings and Queens or not, fairy or not, Islander or not, neither was superior. Words still wouldn’t emerge from her lips so Bali hummed, it was just another island, and if the fairies were to enforce their superiority over her, she would relay the lesson.

That was the last time she looked up until she saw bare feet approach from the side of the page she was reading. Nyoman stood in front of her, his fingers outstretched. Bali glanced at the varying bands, then at his face.

“Your silence discomforts me, girl.”

She only looked back. Nyoman huffed and wiggled his fingers nearer to her face. Bali inched back.

“Pick one for fuck sake!”

All Bali could do was stare at the rings. Nyoman huffed again and she pointed quickly. He twisted a small ring off his left middle finger, the ring had rested just above his nail. Bali outstretched her palm and he dropped in. It was a small thing, thin and braided together from three smaller bands of silver. Bali quickly found that it fit snuggly only on her right pinky.

“I’ll be wanting it back.”

She squinted at him.

“When it’s time for your coronation. I’ll be having it back,” Nyoman growled. He couldn’t stand her silence any longer and walked away. As he left her view, the land of the fairies appeared, covered in thick mist.

Bali frowned. The docks were dirty and dark. No mountains stood behind them and as their ship came closer, all she saw was dirt and cobble stoned streets. Low rise buildings filthy with dust. Ships and boats of all sizes cramped and tied onto the deck with rotting rope. This couldn’t be where the fairies lived, this couldn’t be the First Land.

The fisherwoman who had braided and cut her hair appeared by her side. She handed Bali a bundle of cloth, a dark grey cloak that Bali put on. Then a cotton pouch filled with bread.

“Thank you,” Bali said.

The woman nearly dropped the bread, startled to learn this silent child spoke.

“I never got the chance to ask, what’s your name?,” Bali asked.

“Bajau.”

Bali smiled a thanks and walked over to Nyoman. He stood at the side of the ship, holding a rope in one hand. The mist was worse now, Bali was lucky to see the dock. Nyoman held up a piece of paper.

“You don’t talk, so I figured writing would save any misunder- standings,” he croaked.

Bali took the paper. She couldn’t see the ships around them though she knew there were plenty, she couldn’t see any people in the thick white smog. But she saw the dock inch closer and Nyoman handed her the rope.

“Much luck, Queen.”

She took it. It felt heavy and rough in her hands, dampened by the misty air. But it was real, like a sip of water or a slap on the face, she felt its weight. The dream had ended and the tide came rushing in. She stepped on the boat’s railing and held onto the rope with both hands. Her body awoke after three days of stillness and her back flexed, stretching itself ready. Bali smiled, and the words felt like morning air in her mouth.

“Why doesn’t the ocean laugh at jokes?,” she asked.

Nyoman’s fingers twitched, confusion trickling from his brow but not reaching his tongue.

“Because it hates dry humor,” Bali said in a voice older and clearer than she had owned before. Then she leapt into the fog, landing on the small chunk of dark wood she could make out as the dock. She let go of the rope quickly fearing it would snap back and bring her into the water. Her legs buckled against solid ground and a knee fell to steady her landing. An odd cackling croak echoed in the mist behind her, it cackled and cackled without apology. Then the sound sank away and the only safety Bali had left disappeared.

She tidied her cloak and stood up, the cool air brushed her cheek and she tugged her hood overhead. She would need warmer clothes and her normally white attire would have to be put away. Bali took her first step forward and the mist began to fade.

More and more of the dark wooden dock became visible and noise broke through. Men yelling, the thumping of footsteps carrying crates and barrels up and down planks from ships, and the waves hitting shore. Everything was grey and brown from the street to the buildings. People wore ragged clothes and stood on old wood. For the first few steps, Bali didn’t look anywhere but ahead. But then she began to see the pale faces of the fairies.

Their skin was fair, white and hidden from the sun. Their noses were pointed and thin. Their eyes big and blue, staring well past your face and into your soul. And their hair was all light, the color of the sun but void of all warmth. They moved like her and she understood them thanks to the mentoring of uncle Wayan and Indra. She admitted that their language was stupid, full of arbitrary excetions to grammar and spelling. They looked human to her eyes, but it wasn’t what they looked like that scared her.

Bali froze. She awaited for an attack of any kind but the fairies stood still. She had been taught of their danger, but perhaps it is not as visible as they would have her believe. Maybe the fairies posed a threat that could reach further and harm deeper than a physical blow. Whatever it was, it was not here yet.

She saw people who weren’t fairies too, lands bordering water had the wonderful feature of bringing in all manner of life. Dark and tan skinned sailors and fishers walked the dock, unbothered by the fairies.

Another step would land her at the end of the docks and onto a street bordering buildings of the dock-dwellers. She stood against a fishing house and took out the sheet of paper Nyoman gave her. It provided a single address and a name, she knew then what her exact route would be. It was getting dark and she meant to reach her new home before daybreak. Bali kept her head low and walked with a sure foot. She walked along the street until she found a path leading into the land at a steep incline, she took it.

Java loved breakfast, simply because everyone was together at the table. And the first few days after a sibling had to leave were the most critical.

On an occasion as Bali’s sacrifice, or when any older sibling was shipped away, their chair at the table was removed to the basement and the younger siblings were given a little more room for their elbows to rest. It was a small victory and Java didn’t get many. He was the youngest on their island and he had come to accept that.

For the first few years of his conscious life here, Java had hoped he would not be the last, that he would spot a ship from the tower and a guard would come ashore with another baby brother or sister. At four, he sulked and cried in fear of being the last until Jusuf picked him up and sung him to sleep. At five, he would wait in the moonlight by the beach before Bali, having scoured high and low for him, dragged him home by the ear. And at six, Wayan was tasked with the gut-wrenching job of telling him that his future was set in stone, six years was too long a gap to hope another sibling was on its way. It marked something for the older siblings too, their wait was over and their safety taken.

He was the youngest sibling on their island, the one to be left behind slowly as everyone grew old enough to leave. This was why they didn’t celebrate birthdays, and even if no one kept track of anyone else’s, everyone knew when their time came to vanish, to live or die by the fairies.

By eleven, Java was a master table-setter, breakfast-cooker, and sibling-wrangler. The reason being this: he couldn’t keep track of everyone’s birthdays, but if someone was leaving he needed to be the first to know. The first time an older sibling left, he was the last to wake and the last at the table. The discovery of Jusuf’s departure was made without him and he felt all the more abandoned. He set upon the task of calling everyone to breakfast from then on.

The first time he called out to an empty room that breakfast was ready, he had run back crying, Wayan had left. But practice breeds expertise and soon he was top pick as deliverer of bad news. In fact, after Wayan left, he managed to core strawberries and whip cream as consolation for their loss.

Today, he chocolate-chipped the pancakes and honey fried the bacon. Sided with mango smoothies and spiked coffee for the adults. He removed Bali’s chair and rearranged the seats. It was perfect and he didn’t even have to look at the clock to know it was time to go from room to room with a glass of fresh orange juice.

Only he didn’t have to. They were all still feeling the loss of their sister. Suri and Asia walked in, they never awoke early and so their eyes were puffy. Then Merah walked in. They must have slept in the same room because Merah did wake early, but her eyes were puffy too. They slumped in their seats. Tanu appeared next. A deranged arrangement of wrinkled scowls and reaping glares. Uncle Wayan and Indra strolled in a little easier. The slowest footsteps were Dewa’s. They knew he would take it the worst.

Of all the siblings, Bali and Dewa held the most resemblance, which is to say that they came from the same parents with warm caramel skin and dark hair, wavy and thick. Of course many had caramel skin, but it was also something in their eyes, slanted but bright like honey. Suri had the same slant but her eyes were dark, her hair the color of her caramel skin. Java had those bright eyes but his skin was like brewing coffee.

They all had their theories of who was directly related to who, but it made no difference. They were siblings by virtue of being marooned on the same island and sharing the same fate. In reality, they were cousins. And in the years to come, they were to be crowned the New Kings and Queens of the Thirty-first Reign of the Nusa. Their parents would then become the Old Kings and Queens of the Thirtieth Reign. And that was how it had always been, the children never meeting their parents, and the parents never raising their children.

Dewa sauntered in, half asleep and his eyes a puffy, ugly thing. He stood in front of his chair, incapable of sparing muscle movement. Java moved with the tray of orange juice to the table. He had prayed to have a seamless transition, he thought it would be one less voice to block out. Only, he misread the importance of his sister.

Bali was wise. Not with books, though she read and wrote endlessly, but with understanding. Her mind grappled and grasped for novelty and individual responsibility. She was aware of how monumental everything was, that there was a bigger picture. This crown confined her to think one way and for one purpose. Some people shouldn’t be kept from seeing the world, they were meant to free it and be free of it. That was the hope that rested in Bali, and if she had to leave, then no one else had a chance.

Jusuf was loyalty and honor. Wayan was brain and duty. Bali was heart and perspective. And it felt, to Java, and the rest of the six younger siblings, that they fell short of any valuable qualities to compare. They waited for Dewa to stumble into his chair. The room stood still, there was that creeping silence again. Finally, Uncle Wayan spoke,

“Eat. We have things to do.”

But the food was sour to the taste, Java’s efforts were met with anxiety and sorrow. So the siblings ate in silence. Java’s mind did the only thing he told himself not to do, he remembered his older siblings and how they all came to the island. And from the faces on the table, everyone was doing the same.

They knew the current Rulers, their parents, were a reign of five people: Sula the Good, Oto the II, Adonara, Timor, and Tagalaya the Small. Of those five, only three of them got married. The siblings were the children of those three. Jusuf was the first child, and he was sent to the island by his parents with Uncle Wayan and Indra. One baby was easy enough for the two to foster, but then the children came like clockwork.

Every several months, a ship with white sails could be seen from the tower. A basket would be left at the main shore with some trunks of supplies. The first basket held Wayan wrapped in a dark blanket. Laid side to side, Jusuf and Wayan did not look alike. Jusuf had chocolate skin and hair to match, a nappy, tangled puff on his head. Wayan was the color of wholewheat bread with straight, pitch black hair. But though the lids that hooded their eyes folded differently, the irises stared back in the same amber glaze, like pools of honey.

Bali followed. Then it was Tanu, who looked like Jusuf in every way but the hair which was a mess of loose curls, sprouting from the roots dark and growing the color of toffee. When Dewa came along, there was no question that his parents were Bali’s parents, they looked exactly the same. Asia and Merah were brought together as a pair. Both had a fuzz of curls on their heads, one was dark and the other a brown on the verge of orange, they were both caramel skinned and honey-eyed. All of them were shades of brown, told to be so by the sun.

The ships slowed after that, Suri came a long while after, and then Java a longer while after that. Uncle Wayan and Indra knew then, things had to begin and they were eager to start. Their role as the Fostering Family was inherited, just like an isolated childhood in Nusa Irian was the inheritance of the ruling family. Common sense and life skills, domestic and otherwise, was left to Indra. Books and arts were left to Uncle Wayan. He wasn’t an uncle, he wasn’t even uncle-aged, but there had to be some distinction between the man and the child. Uncle Wayan and Indra were in their thirties. They would have preferred the title of professor, but having cared for the siblings since infancy made it hard to deliver any hierarchical suffixes without giggles from both parties.

There were, at their peak, six babies squealing in one household. The wooden walls didn’t do much to silence cries. Wailing would domino from room to room and no one would get any sleep. Indra used to joke that she would bring everyone on to the sun deck and let everyone tan, dehydrating in the sun until the point of exhaustion. Then they could all sleep and silence would befall the tall wooden house. But that restful silence had left with Jusuf, now the only silence that would ever be heard was a threat.

Java peeked around the table, no one would look up. He was pretty sure he saw a teardrop fall into the scrambled eggs on Suri’s plate. Breakfast, which was supposed to be a moment of togetherness, uniting them in the endeavor that dictated their childhood, was now the first funeral of many to come.

Nevertheless, the empty plates came piling into the sink and the siblings slowly migrated into the study. They filed in and sat at their desks from oldest to youngest, all except for Asia who crawled in last and glared at the chalkboard to the front of the room. Then, the lesson began.

Asia hated that chalkboard and she was sure it hated her too. The white that dust infiltrated her nose and the chalk’s screeching squeak. Asia wanted to throw a javelin at it and crack the surface unwritable, no matter how pretty it looked against the book filled shelves. Asia’s head wandered as she settled into her desk, she knew she was the only one deep in thought because everyone else dutifully wrote notes as Uncle Wayan lectured.

In her mind, she saw Bali on the bow of a white sailed ship. She saw her covered in mist and muddied in damp dirt. The warmth of the sun couldn’t find her and that was as good as dead. Asia imagined her climbing steep steps and nearly slipping in the rain, cold and wet. Bali fell and scraped at a wall for support. Her ring scratched at the crumbling cement, creating a long scar on the wall. Bali took a moment to catch her breath, she looked at her scratched hand. She noticed two more scars beside, precisely like the one she made with her ring. Bali smiled and continued on. In Bali’s mind was a vast library on top of a hill. At this image Asia snorted.

“Yes, Asia? Something funny?,” Uncle Wayan paused with incorrigible eyes, his chalk pressed halfway into a word.

Asia came back to the room and sat up. She shook her head. He continued and Asia went back to daydreaming. She thought of Wayan, their older sister. Her older sister if Asia was allowed to bet on it. Wayan would write endless notes during class but Asia couldn’t distinguish important from boring. But that wasn’t the convincing factor in Asia’s argument that they had the same parents. It was because of the beauty marks that spotted their bodies. Every year or so a new little dark dot would appear on her nose or back, ear or toe. Studiousness didn’t constitute genetics, but the beauty marks did. Here they called them tai lalat, or, fly poo. She snorted again. The whole room turned to look at her.

“What now, Asia?”

Uncle Wayan had endless patience. They were going over the transatlantic trade and it was not a laughing subject. She allowed a small shrug of apology, but Uncle Wayan put his chalk down anyway.

“I suppose three days isn’t enough time for grief,” he said, “But you all know the history, this is how it’s done. The Ruling Family is given their title for this very reason, they are sacrificed to the enemy to prove themselves worthy of the crown. It just so happens that our current enemies are the fairies of the First Land. If it came to war, we have the lower hand, we are a thalassocracy. Write this word down: tha-lass-o-cra-cy.”

A hand raises.

“Why don’t we infiltrate allies?,” Java pipes.

“We have none left, the fairies conquered them all. Now, a thalassocracy rules over more sea than land, both are territories that make up a country but they cannot be ruled in the same way. How do you rule an archipelago? Can anybody guess?”

“You keep the peace on the water between islands,” says Tanu.

“How do you rule a population of different islands?”

“Equally,” the words came out of Asia’s mouth like melting butter.

“Good. It’s time for your ride,” Uncle Wayan sets the chalk down and the siblings push in their chairs. They leave one by one, arguing about something or other. Uncle Wayan places the book he was teaching from in its slot on the shelf. Not far from it was an empty space, a book had been misplaced and he knew exactly who took it. From a window, Uncle Wayan saw the siblings take their horses by the rein and walk into the woods, disappearing from view.

The woods of their island, Nusa Irian, were varied, but the ones to the north, the ones that surrounded their house, were tall and thin. The leaves grew towards the tops and made helpful shade during the day. Their barks were white and smooth. It was easy to spot everyone on their horses, only Suri was trailing behind.

Suri was easily the neatest rider. Her posture was pristine-- arms straight, heels pressed, shoulders back, but this meant she rode slow. She didn’t like going fast anyway, wind would splinter against her cheeks and dry up her eyes, she shuddered just thinking about hitting a loose rock and tumbling off the horse.

The siblings headed Northwest towards the pink beaches below Cliff’s End, where waves crashed into caverns when the tide rolled it. Suri would surely take the longest so she didn’t bother moving fast. She walked her horse, waking up its muscles and stretching its legs. Ubi was a yellow mare with white hooves, whose legs would prance in a pretty step if you tapped at her feet. The others rode ahead until Suri saw Java’s chubby belly disappear in the distance.

Suri found the tropics an odd place to live, and even though she didn’t know what it was like before the water rose, she knew the speed with which the air moved was strange. Days would be hot and nights would be cold, rain would turn into snow, and wind would crystalize into fog, all within minutes. Perhaps the most alarming part of island life was the visible rise of the ocean. Whenever the tide rode in, it left behind a drop or two more water at the shore. A day would come when the creeping beach swallowed Irian entirely, the earth to renew itself below the water and the island would break free of the nail that kept it in its place. Suri giggled at her preposterous imagination, this kind of thinking would land her washing duty at home.

Uncle Wayan was ever the scholar and he taught them to believe in rational, historical patterns. He paid close attention to human tendencies and massive movements of people or practices, how a mindset was produced or which reoccurrences convinced a stereotype. He liked natural thinking, where one thought follows another, proving facts from visible progression. Suri understood where he was coming from, it had to do with equality, looking at the bigger picture and understanding all of it to understand bits of it. He fought, most often, with Asia who believed the opposite, that to understand everyone else, she needed to know herself. Because it was impossible for anything in her not to be in anyone else, and anything in anyone else not to be in her.

Bali and Indra were of the same thinking, they loved tall tales and unpredictable stories of great valor through humanity. Often their discussions revolved around Greek mythology, beings that were superior to humans but even more fallible. The two side’s arguments made Suri sensitive, it wasn’t tangible and as much as it had to do with people, it didn’t require interaction with people. Suri thrived on interaction, people simply liked her, though all she had to go on were the few on the island. But she considered Ubi a person, and Ubi liked her too. A snap sent her head towards a section of trees. Something had broken a branch.

Suri turned Ubi towards the noise, holding her reins short. She saw movement in the brown of fallen leaves, a small flash of white dots. Suri smiled, it was only a mouse deer. She turned away only to hear another crackle of twigs.

“Foolish, child. Never mistake what it looks like for what it is,” a voice sneered playfully.

Suri froze, a cold sweat broke down her neck. She tugged Ubi around again with the slightest tension of her ring finger to the reins. Where the deer had stood was a boy with tan skin and hair dabbling between grey and brown. He grinned and Suri saw sharp canines, like those of a mouse deer.

“Are you scared, child?”

“I- I’m not a child.”

“You’re all children to me, I’m Kan.”

“Sang Kancil is a folktale.”

“So you do know my name.”

“You’re a trickster.”

“A trickster? Try again.”

“You’re the trickster.”

Kan snickers, he walks in a circle around her.

“Well, if you say so,” he says, “Here is my trick. I will disappear, and one day soon you will need to find me. Ask her.” Kan points.

Suri follows his finger to a puddle that has seemed to appear out of nowhere. She looks to him in confusion, only he is no longer there. Suri digs her heel into Ubi’s rib to nudge her forward, she glances into the puddle but sees only a reflection of herself. A stillness fell upon her surroundings then, the crickets chirping felt a world away.

“Suri!,” Java comes trotting in from behind her on his dark pony, “Come on, you gotta see it. The Komodos are out!”

Suri is still stuck in the moment from before, did she fall asleep and dream it all or what.

“It’s not Komodo season.”

“I know! Come on!”

Java canters away. Suri follows in a fast trot, but a shiver travels down her shoulder as she recalls Kan’s grin.

They reach Cliff’s End in the next half hour and Suri spots the siblings low on their bellies, sneaking towards the edge of the rocks where the grass grew thin. Java jumps off and joins them in a hurry. Suri walks softly, staying on her two feet. She peers from a safe distance down the cliff to Pink Beach. Asia is to her side, muttering a low hush to group.

Below, large black lizards settle in the sun, soaking it up in peace. The Komodos flick their long tongues in and out, ever so often swaying their tails. One of them stood up and that was sign enough for Suri to crouch down low, she whispered at Java on her other side.

“Why are they out so early?”

Java only points to the greenish blue water some meters away from the pink sand. A large white mound sits unmoving in the water. Suri squints to make out the figure, she snorts, having had enough fun with her imagination today.

“What did our island have a baby?”

Asia whacks her and gestures her head towards the white hill. Suri takes a closer look. The mound didn’t have the texture of smooth sand, it had a pattern that looked like the bubbles in boiling water, and it was shiny. Then, the white hill moved. It turned a full circle and Suri could see it turn into a pointed shape, the circular mound transformed into an island the shape of a carrot. Suri nearly shrieked. Java punched her arm to keep her quiet. She heard Tanu’s voice.

“It’s a white crocodile.”

“It’s the size of our kitchen,” Dewa whispered.

The slithering white mound splashed into the deep waters head first and disappeared.

“It’s just an albino croc,” Merah said.

“Did you miss the part where I said kitchen-sized?”

“It’s not albino,” Java cooed, “the eyes were black.”

“Aji Saka,” Suri said simply, “If the giants are coming out of hiding then we’re all in danger.”

“Shut up with your Aji Saka,” Dewa snapped, “Raksasa are myths from before the water rose. They’re human constructs like religion and culture. Not real.”

“Fairies are real.”

“They’re our enemies not stories, Suri. Grow up,” Dewa ups and gets on his black gelding, he gallops into the white woods. Suri turns to Tanu.

“It’s just like spotting a whale, or dolphins, right?,” she asks.

“Yeah, pretty cool huh,” Tanu chuckles unconvincingly, “Alright, fun’s over. Back to studying.”

The siblings smile, happy at their adventurous discovery. A giant white croc was a rare yet rewarding sighting even in island life, but a shape-shifting mouse deer might be more cause for concern then Suri thinks. She kept quiet the entire ride back, and when they sat back in their desks ready for another lecture, Suri found herself daydreaming about Kan.

Uncle Wayan had assigned presentations last week. He gave out a list of historical events and allowed them to pick whichever one interested them most. By the time Suri lifted awake from the daydream, Merah had taken the stage.

Merah began reciting the history of the Nusa and she wondered if Uncle Wayan could see the paragraph of notes she had inked onto her palm the night before. Every time she snuck a peek at her cheat sheet, her siblings choked down a laugh. She was a great story teller, but historical accuracy was a demanding burden.

“The Old Kings and Queens of the Seventh Reign were assassinated before the New Kings and Queens of the Eighth Reign had grown old enough to be sacrificed to the First Land,” Merah said, taking a deep breath before continuing.

Merah peeked at her palms, if she sweat anymore her writing would smudge. Uncle Wayan was behind her, listening for accuracy while sitting on his armchair. Dewa stifled a snicker and Tanu glared at him with laughter in his eyes too, both of them resorted to biting their lips.

“Nusa Raja, where the Old Kings and Queens resided, is the most densely populated island in the Nusa,” Merah continued, “it is also the largest with the hoarder’s pick in natural resources even after the water rose. The--”

Uncle Wayan lifted his hand up, “Name the resources.”

Merah obliged, “Wood, coal, and minerals. Not to mention manual labor. Now, the assassination plan began with the Rulers of the Fifth Reign who, to this day, gave birth to the smalled number of siblings to be sent to Nusa Irian.”

Uncle Wayan lifted his hand again, “Name the four.”

Merah bit her tongue, this wasn’t in her notes. From the back of the room, she saw Suri pantomime the names. Merah squinted and listed for the room to hear,

“Rach...malia. Rachmalia was the eldest. Then...then it was…,” she tilted her head to decipher Suri’s hand gesture, “To...ba, no! Samosir. Samosir of Lake Toba. And tw- twu- two- twooins! The twins! Moa and Morotai. The four rulers of the Fifth Reign.”

At the back of the room, Suri broke a sweat.

“Anyway, the Sixth Reign saw the largest number of siblings sent to Nusa Irian, twenty-two siblings. No one knows what happened during their near twenty-five years sacrifice in the First Land, but only ten siblings sailed back for their coronation. Twelve siblings were lost to the fairies. Twelve--”

A piercing snore came from the room. Java had fallen asleep on his desk and he snorted air out every few seconds. Uncle Wayan sighed sadly. He gestured a circle with his finger,

“Well done, Merah. Wrap it up. The assassination itself, please.”

“The rumor is that those twelve divulged secrets under torture. Secrets that led the fairies to the Nusa, and to Nusa Raja. In a short time, a drug sneaked into the Nusa market. And by the time of the Seventh Reign, it became prized in island to island trade, sickening the minds and bodies of many islanders.” Merah was into it now, her voice high and low in suspense.

She was about to jump and yell to a climactic end when Uncle Wayan cleared his throat. Merah paused abruptly, and in the silence Java let out a roaring snore. The room exploded in laughter. Dewa and Tanu were near tears, and Asia was on the floor. Merah frowned and finished her story quickly, hurt that no one was paying attention.

“People began disappearing in flocks. Then fruits that should have been in season were gone before harvest. Oil and coal began to leak out of their holes and caves. And trees were cut down at their roots.

The Rulers were tirelessly scouring the seas, but that’s the problem with a thalassocracy. Communication came slow, and travel from island to island could not be overcome by breeding the fastest horse.

Then, an offer came. It came through an emissary with pearl-white skin. They promised payment enough to restore all the islands for a settlement on land. The Rulers refused, and now, knowing the cause of their problems, they built a barricade. A thick fog began covering the horizon of the Nusa, nothing came in and nothing came out.

On the third week of the barricade, the fairies could not hide any longer, the sun had burned their skin to a crisp and they scurried out like ants. And we killed them, we burned their war ships and we killed them. The--”

“Dinner’s ready!,” Indra’s shout rang through the study and a cheer erupted. Merah frowned some more. Java stirred awake,

“Is it over?,” he asked.

“It will never be over,” Asia grunted.

“Continue, Merah,” Uncle Wayan said calmly.

“But dinner!,” Dewa protested.

“Do you want to finish it then!,” Merah shouted, frustration finally boiling over.

“Yeah! Before we caught all the filthy fairies, one of them named Flinder disguised gunpowder as ash in the chimney where the Seventh Reign met. They lit a fire and scorched to their deaths, leaving a wing in the palace destroyed. There. Done. Dinner!,” Dewa left.

Chairs scooted and footsteps hurried out the door. Merah sighed and stumbled to the kitchen, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“That was really, really good, Merah. You should write if ever you find the time. The Poet Queen, it has a nice ring to it don’t you think?,” Uncle Wayan smiled and ushered the now beaming girl out of the study. He turned to stack away books. Indra walks slowly to his side.

“Dinner was a distraction,” she said to Uncle Wayan’s surprise, “A disease has spread through Nusa Raja. The Old Kings and Queens are in the hospital.”

Uncle Wayan’s mouth went dry. Indra lets out a shaky breath.

“They’ll die within a month and...,” she trails off and gives his arm a squeeze. Wayan finished her sentence for her,

“The siblings have been called to their coronation.”

Outside the study, Suri had stayed behind to tell Uncle Wayan about her shape-shifting mouse-deer. She was not prepared to hear this.

#ya fiction #ya novel #ya fantasy #ya novels #young adult #fantasy #crown #kings #queens #kingdom #throne #fiction

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xoruffitup · 5 years

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A Year Since SNL

This Saturday a year ago Adam hosted SNL for his second time! That weekend was a whole lot of things for me. It was an anxious, chaotic, excitement and joy-filled weekend that will always be difficult to match. It was the weekend when I met my amazing group of fandom friends during that 24-hour period on the sidewalk outside Rockefeller Center ( @umkylo and @reylonly and our tumblr-less friend Sarah, you guys don’t know how much joy our ongoing groupchat brings me <3) There’s no better bonding experience than freezing your butt off in the early morning hours, anxiously fretting together about whether our ticket numbers would get in to the show as we waited in the studio that night, and then freaking out together (but you know, subtly) when we were finally in seats on set and Adam appeared on stage to do his intro monologue. I’m literally sitting here with my heart fluttering and my stomach doing anxious/excited flips all over again just recalling the incredible, unforgettable whirlwind of that weekend!!

In a way, that weekend was also the beginning of a really beyond incredible year in this fandom <3 After the show that night, I remember we talked fancifully about maybe trying to go to the AITAF Broadway show together, and since Burn This had already been announced at that point @umkylo mentioned maybe traveling again from Australia so we could all see it together. And I can hardly even believe I’m saying it but - It all came true! We did share an incredibly moving evening at the AITAF show, and @umkylo really did come from Australia again in the spring to spend amazing time together! Not only did we get to see Burn This together twice but we got to meet Adam together too and asdfjasdlkfj I can’t believe I’m even typing those words WHAT I CAN’T- !!!!!!

Whenever I tell people about that SNL weekend, people who are fans of the show usually react with interest and awe. People who don’t really know the show nor Adam usually just react with disbelief like ‘24 hours camping out on a New York City sidewalk that sounds awful??’ But to me, that weekend was really the pinnacle and perfect encapsulation of exactly why I do fandom, and why it means so much to me. It’s more than just our weird obsession with a movie and fixation on an actor. It’s an experience that brings people together, and immediately creates these bonds that are difficult to even put into words. If you’ve never been near tears or physically shaking with excitement with near strangers within a mere 24 hours of meeting them, it’s hard to even conceive of the kind of ultimately joyous experience I’m talking about. It wouldn’t be the same without the lovely fellow enthusiasts to share it with; nor are the friendships that grow from these experiences quite like the relationships you have with anyone else. I’m talking about that other group of girls I met in the SNL line whose names I never fully caught, but when I randomly saw them at the Burn This stagedoor one night we all simultaneously screamed and tackle-hugged each other without even needing to exchange greetings first. (This was also right after we all met Adam so rational thought wasn’t exactly fully operational.) I’m talking about the fact that yes, this fandom can be full of drama and pettiness, but it’s also a place with people and friendships I treasure, with incredible artists and writers, with supportive communities, and most importantly - enthusiasm and kindness that makes anything else irrelevant.

A year since then feels like a long time with all the Adam-related things I’ve been fortunate enough to see and experience this past year that I could never have dreamed of during that weekend. (Nope, I still can’t believe I shook his hand when we had that super wholesome stage door exchange NOPE STILL CAN’T PROCESS) It also feels like no time at all, because I can still so clearly remember the nervous excitement as we all stood right outside of the NBC studio together, waiting and hoping and hugging each other and praying that the security people would announce they were letting our ticket numbers into the show. I can so clearly remember that moment during a commercial break when I momentarily lost my mind, yelled to Adam I love him during a moment of silence, and HE SMILED TOWARDS US. Something about how public that moment was, and how everyone in the audience around us also seemed kind of touched by it makes me literally still want to curl up into a ball and cry happy tears when I really think about it!! It’s not a smidgeon of exaggeration when I say that @umkylo and I LITERALLY clutched each other and melted in our seats when it happened. One of the purest things I’ll ever experience. (Also that I got to ~express my love~ to Adam in a way that was totally non-creepy and just sweet, thank you world.)

I’m about to reblog all of my update and recap posts from that weekend. I chronicled the experience every couple hours from the standby line, then wrote a ridiculously flaily and emotional recap of what the show was like. I don’t think I’ll ever experience anything like that again, but then again - @umkylo, Sarah, and I do have the trip to London planned for the TROS premiere and we’re all-in for two days of camping out in Leicester Square/wherever the premiere will be held to get good red carpet spots. I’m nothing but thrilled for the continued/future friendships and lovely times this fandom will bring!!

#Adam Driver #SNL #Saturday Night Live #Excuse me getting hella feelsy all over the place #The nostalgia this weekend has been REAL #Just can't emphasize enough how amazing that experience was #Especially considering that when I went into it I had no freaking idea what to expect #Was pretty nervous actually about just chilling on a NYC sidewalk for 24 hours #But even with those couple hours when it was freezing #I wouldn't change a single minute of that entire weekend <3

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vexie-chan · 5 years

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Mortal Choice

Cadceus Clay has prayed for his friends before. The Wildmother listens.

Spoilers for ep65

Her Clay is cold and wet and miserable. But that is only the first part of his prayer. The Wildmother cannot help but smile as she listens to him murmuring over the vegetables he’s chopping for a nice, hot soup.

“It doesn’t seem to be a very good relationship,” Caduceus says, shaking his head. “This Uko’toa person seems like a tough customer. I know…I know you all have different relationships with your followers. But this can’t be right, can it? Everything about these temples seems unnatural.”

Young Caduceus’s mind’s eye recounts images of the horrible drowned things he’d faced below the sea. The Wildmother watches thoughtfully. It’s true, Uko’toa is not one of her favorite beings. After all, he’d been locked up for a reason. If it was meant to be that he was freed, so be it, but it would mean the scales would tip toward death and destruction for a while. Enough of that is occurring with the wars and sicknesses in the lands at present.

Still, it is not her place to intervene.

Caduceus sighs, laying down his spoon for a moment. He closes his eyes as if he feels the same resignation she does.

“I guess this isn’t really any of your business,” he says. The Wildmother smiles.

“You’ve looked out for me—even though it’s been…it’s been pretty bad, I know you’re there. That’s why I’m still here, I think,” Caduceus continues, his voice becoming unsure.

My sweet boy, the Wildmother thinks. It’s been good for him to leave the Blooming Grove. He has things she would like him to accomplish, but she also wants him to learn more about the world and the things in it. It’s good for him to question his faith—Caduceus has always been an unquestioning follower when he should really question things more. It pleases the Wildmother that he is asking questions and having doubts. The youngest Clay is growing up.

“I don’t know if it’s something in your purview or not, but if it is, could you keep an eye on Fjord? He’s…he’s a good guy. I don’t think his patron is treating him very well. I don’t know much about any of this stuff about pacts and agreements, but I do know this isn’t a very healthy relationship. If there’s anything you can do, I think he’s going to be a good person in the end, if he could just get away from this Uko’toa character,” Caduceus says.

This surprises the Wildmother. The Clay family have been faithful worshippers of hers for generations, but never evangelical. That is not how she wants her worshippers to be. They do their part and tend to her gardens and defend the balance between life and death. The Clays respect the worship and custom of all the other gods. They are well studied and well versed in those that require specific burial rituals or other death rites. Young Caduceus is the first in many generations to question the worship of another being.

The Wildmother reaches out curiously. His heart is full of concern for his friend. He has truly come to care for these people.

I will watch and see, the Wildmother thinks. Caduceus smiles into his soup, relief tinging the edges of his aura. He felt her, then. He always was a sensitive boy. Her Clay.

She watches, acquiescing to Caduceus’s prayer. For a short time, the Wildmother thinks Uko’toa has let Fjord go. The Mighty Nein make their way to the shore and travel further and further inland. The Wildmother watches, but they seem to be safe.

It’s late one night—her attentions are mostly elsewhere—when she sees black tentacles reach for Fjord’s consciousness. She sees them writhing from the corner of her eye. As she turns to watch, a chill shudders through her celestial self. The tentacles wrap themselves around Fjord’s sleeping mind, filling his aura with fear and dread.

The Wildmother hesitates. It is not her place to intervene, but she recalls how Caduceus was concerned about this relationship. He was right—it does not look healthy or natural. Uko’toa’s dark tentacles drip with a sickly green power as he threatens his chosen vessel. He isn’t strong enough to do very much yet, but mortals are weak and Fjord is not left undamaged.

This will not do. Yet…what can be done? The boy entered into a pact with that unsightly being. It is not the Wildmother’s place to intervene. The rules are very strict. The gods should not fight over each others’ followers, but accept their coming and going with grace. Once, they fought for the worship of certain mortals. They destroyed each other and the mortals in the process. No more.

The Wildmother watches Fjord wake up terrified with a frown on her face. She never did like Uko’toa.

Caduceus’s second prayer for Fjord comes at the request of his friend Caleb. The Wildmother, of course, had seen the things that transpired between Fjord and his patron. She likes their relationship less and less. Her heart went out to the half-orc as he stumbled into the rain, clutching his lifeless sword, reaching for a power that had been rescinded.

This is wrong, the Wildmother thinks, anger boiling in her like a geyser ready to blow. She’s become fond of her Clay’s friends. They’ve taken good care of him. Misguided as these Mighty Nein are, they do the best they can. She doesn’t like seeing one of them tortured by the being he’d trusted for so long. Nor does she approve of a higher being treating his mortals so poorly.

The human wizard had watched carefully, feigning sleep. He watched Fjord through his eyelashes, eyes mostly closed. Fjord had been too frightened to notice. Caleb watched him fail to send his sword away, fail to cast. He watched as Fjord slipped out of the room, then sent his fey creature to watch as he tried to reach for that missing magic in the streets.

Caleb woke early to find Caduceus, always an early riser. Now, they face each other over a cup of tea.

“You…you have roomed with Fjord often on our journeys,” Caleb says hesitantly.

“I have. Why?” Caduceus says.

Caleb leans in, dropping his voice to ensure no one is listening.

“Have you noticed whether he is getting more dreams from…from his patron?” he asks.

Caduceus frowns.

“I wouldn’t say more, but he seems unhappy when he gets one, now, doesn’t he?” he replies thoughtfully.

“I think he is being punished for walking away before he could free him,” Caleb says. “He woke last night unable to cast. His falchion was still laying on the bed this morning. I don’t think he can send it back to wherever it is usually kept.”

Caduceus lets out a sigh that might be a partial growl. He shakes his head.

“I don’t like that Uko’toa,” he says. “He’s bad news, Mr. Caleb.”

“You are…a man of the cloth. Is there any way to get Fjord away from his god? Can he break his geass? Can your Wildmother protect him?” Caleb asks.

The Wildmother smiles at that. Caleb, the broken, faithless boy is always willing to support the faith of others. He believes in nothing, but knows enough to understand that his beliefs have nothing to do with anyone else’s.

“I’ve asked. I don’t really know how all that works…I don’t know if she’s allowed to interfere with what other gods are doing,” Caduceus says. “It won’t hurt to let her know what’s going on, though. Maybe she can do something for him. ”

“I hope so,” Caleb says. His aura is always gloomy and worried, but his concern spikes a bit for the sake of his friend. “I do not think it will bode well for any of us if that fiend comes for vengeance. Especially not Fjord”

“No, I think you’re right,” Caduceus agrees. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Danke,” Caleb says.

Caduceus asks for her help later that day.

“I don’t know what you can do, or what you’re allowed to do, or if you’re even interested,” Caduceus says. “But you’ve taken care of me, more than I deserve. If there is anything you can do for Fjord, please do it. This thing…it’s not good. And we need him. He’s part of our team, and he’s a good friend.”

The Wildmother sets a part of herself to look at the geass keeping Fjord bound to Uko’toa, and keeping Uko’toa bound in his prison. For days, she studies both.

“You know, you do have options, sister.”

The Wildmother turns to find the Raven Queen smirking at her.

“I’d like to crush him in the deep waters he loves so much,” she replies.

“And perhaps you will get that chance. For the time being, why not take the boy under your wing? If it’s bothering you so much,” the Raven Queen says.

“I’m not about to steal someone else’s chosen as my own. I don’t play that kind of game,” The Wildmother says sharply.

“Who said anything about stealing? Don’t underestimate the power of mortal choice. You can always ask nicely…if the boy chooses you over his eldritch beast, it’s all fair game,” the Raven Queen says with a shrug. “Mortals change their hearts on faith as quickly as the weather changes. That’s hardly your fault.”

“You make it sound so easy,” The Wildmother says with a shake of her head. “The balance—”

“It is easy. Choice is as natural as it gets, sister. All you need to do is open a door. Whether he walks through it is up to him. You’ve disrupted no balance. But Uko’toa will if he breaks free again,” The Raven Queen says. She turns to leave. “Think about it, sister.”

The Wildmother frowns, watching her go.

A choice…

Her Clay is angry with her. He does not like to be told no. He does not like being told that some problems are too big for him to fix. She loves him none the less for it, staying near as he closes his communication with her like a child slamming the door.

Perhaps if she had not been so close anyway, she would have missed the black tentacles reaching for Fjord.

Open a door.

The Wildmother touches the consciousness of the half-orc. The cracking of Uko’toa against his binding is muted as she opens a door, filling it with as much light and love and life as she can.

Fjord’s eyes widen as her emerald light touches his face. He leans into the light as if it were a caress.

“Come with me, child.” She can’t help but whisper the words to him, reaching out.

He’s mesmerized. At a glance, she sees the child-Fjord’s dreams of a mother’s plea just like hers, longing to be called to a place he can call home, longing to be loved by a mother. He moves toward her, arms outstretched.

Uko’toa pulls back, but Fjord breaks free. The Wildmother pulls him into her embrace, letting vines sap the water from him, warming his clammy skin in her arms.

“This womb I grant, but withers without faith. His wielder shall find you again,” she warns. She can protect him so long as he chooses her, but Uko’toa won’t let go that easily. Even now, the beast rages against her, fighting to pull Fjord back to him. Behind bars, he’s not strong enough to strike her down, but the walls encasing him are becoming thin.

Fjord doesn’t reply, but stares at her in awe and admiration. The Wildmother looks down at him and smiles gently, flooding him with feelings of warmth and safety.

“His will shall find you again, but until it does, rest,” she murmurs, embracing his small, mortal form.

The relief on the half-orc’s face as he falls into a restful sleep makes her heart ache. How long has it been since he had found peaceful rest? She should have offered this to him sooner.

When he awakes, the WIldmother watches as he fights with renewed strength and confidence. He marvels at the warmth of his magic now that she is watching over him.

Don’t underestimate the power of mortal choice, the Raven Queen had said.

“I will protect you as long as I can,” the Wildmother promises, knowing he can’t hear her. “My orphan boy.”

#critical role #critical fanfic #cr spoilers #caduceus clay #fjord #the wildmother #vexie writes fanfic #i will probably revise for aO3 in the next few days

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