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#and one day when it’s quiet and the boys are out fixing the boat with sam and Bucky
princessbrunette · 20 days
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he didn’t expect an attitude at first. not from deer!reader, it would be too out of character.
he awakens to the sound of a voice that isn’t yours, seemingly playing from your phone. it wasn’t rare that you’d wake up before him and entertain yourself until he’s awake, whether that be reading or listening to one of your bizarre podcasts. today, you had clearly chosen the latter and as he comes into consciousness he’s met with the droning voice that relays the information.
‘so what psychological effects does cannibalism have on a human being? well that all depends on whether or not the participant was willingly—’
pope frowns, tuning out of the morbid details and yawns, body tensing up with a long stretch as he wakes himself up. with a gentle smile on his face, happy to have slept by your side for the first time all week — his eyes flutter open, seeing you sat up facing away from him in the bed, concentrated on the information being relayed to you.
usually, as soon as you hear him stir you’re all over him, softly rousing him from his slumber with kisses all over his cheeks, your eyelashes tickling him and getting him to chuckle. whilst you not bothering with this could have been a first sign pointing to your mood, pope was too disorientated with sleep to think anything of it, and simply reached out to touch the soft skin of your back.
“hey, good morning.” he coo’s, voice still raspy from sleep.
“mm.” you hum in response, and he puts it down to you being super concentrated on your podcast. infact, at the time he found it adorable.
once he’s up and ready, it’s then he notices that you’re even quieter than usual. when you speak, your answers are short and dare he say even snappy. he gives it time, trusting you to tell him what was wrong when you were ready. lack of communication hadn’t really been a problem in your relationship, considering you were typically well behaved 100% of the time — so still, your boyfriend wasn’t worried.
after a chillingly quiet breakfast, the boy starts to gather his things, and suddenly — you’re a lot more talkative.
“where are you going now?” you hover, watching him dig through his pockets to find his keys.
“jj texted me and his boat won’t start. apparently i’m the only person with common sense who knows how to fix it.” he rolls his eyes before locating the jangly set of keys. “bingo.” he praises himself quietly. you continue staring, a clear expression of disappointment and bewilderment worn on your face. he does a double take as the two of you stand on the pier, slowing his movements. “oh, i’ll be back though. real quick.” he promises, which doesn’t make it any better — especially when he’d said that earlier in the week and then disappeared the entire day. you let pettiness get the better of you.
“oh, i’m sure you will.” you scoff, staring down at the brown sandals on your feet. there’s a silence as he freezes, and you don’t look at him. sarcasm. now that really wasn’t like you.
“is…there something going on here?” he questions cautiously, slowly approaching you where you stand.
“i don’t know pope, is there? is there a reason you just don’t wanna hang out with me lately? am i that much of a bore?” you snap, and his eyes widen. you weren’t even good at having an attitude with him, eyes filling with tears. you know it’s been out of his control, the group needed him and he couldn’t let them down — but that didn’t stop you from feeling second bested.
“okay. where has this come from?” he furrows his brows and you hang your head in shame. he steps closer, placing two hands on your cheeks to get you to look at him. the mixture of his close proximity and the physical affection instantly calms you a little, and you realise that perhaps that’s all you’d been craving.
“i don’t know.” is all you manage and he shakes his head.
“i know i’ve been gone, okay. but… you know how the pogues are. i couldn’t leave them hanging. i’m yours for the rest of the week, i literally swear.” he convinces and you sigh out your nose, nodding.
“i’m sorry.” you admit quietly and he strokes your cheeks thoughtfully.
“is that why you had a little attitude today? you know you can just talk to me. i wouldn’t dismiss you.” he’s being so kind, and you just feel dreadful for being such a nightmare. craving his touch, you place your hands over his.
“can i just… have a hug please? i think i need one.” you communicate shakily and he breathes out a quiet laugh of relief, his brows still knitted.
“of course you can. you really don’t have to ask.” he pulls you in, strong arms squeezing you tight the way you needed, the compression helping you regulate your mismatched emotions the way he knew helped you. “and you can come with me to see jj. don’t just assume i’d neglect you.” he smiles, stepping back before holding out his hand. “coming?”
you take it, and he doesn’t bring it up again.
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strawberryspence · 2 years
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Eddie Munson first falls in love with the water at the age of seven. On his seventh birthday, his Mom and Dad drives him to California. It was one of the few times he remembers being happy with his family. His father stole an RV, just for them. His mother wasn’t really happy with it, but had to let it go when Eddie lights up at the news of a road trip to California. He remembers seeing the beach, the feeling of the sand on his feet, the blueness of the Pacific Ocean and the warmth of the water against his skin. In his room, one of the few items he packed when finally ran away from home, is a small seashell. It’s small enough to hold with your fingertips. On bad days, Eddie holds it near his ear and tries to hear the soft whisper of the ocean.
Eddie Munson is thirteen when he starts hiding behind the bleachers to watch a boy swim. He knows he’s gay, has known since the age of nine that he doesn’t feel what the other boys feel for girls. Eddie finds the swimming stands by accident, he just wanted to find a smoking spot when he finds a screaming crowd. It’s nothing like the ocean, no sound of waves crashing against the shore, the blueness only reflects with the light. A boy swims, he swims like he was born to be in the water. When he comes out of the water, he shines against the sun, golden hair wet and smile bright. Eddie falls in love. Eddie Munson’s first love is the ocean, second is Steve Harrington.
Eddie Munson is seventeen when he learns how the water can be used as a cruelty. Wayne drives the both of them to help look for this boy, just a small boy, lost in the woods. Wayne tells him that if he sees a mother, looking for her son, don’t look away, don’t glare, don’t give her pitiful looks. Give her a gentle smile, a helping hand. They trek the woods, a few times for the next few days. Eddie will never forget that day, Wayne was driving them back to the trailer when they see flashing red and blue lights just below the quarry. They both stop, looking over the edge of the man-made water, watching as Chief Hopper pull Will Byers’ body out of the water. Only then did Eddie realized how dark and menacing the water could be at night.
Eddie Munson is twenty when he starts hating the water. He’s in a boat, again, after having the worst three days of his life. Steve Harrington is more grown now, Eddie’s not entirely in love with him anymore, not when he spent a few years in high school with a group that bullied Eddie. But he doesn’t deny the way his heart beats out of his chest when Steve dives into the water, because he was born to do so, always meant to be in the water. He doesn’t know why Robin and Nancy are scared, Steve can do this, he belongs in the water. He watches as Steve lunges, breaks the barrier, and a split second of relief before Steve gets dragged down. Eddie follows the girls down the water. It’s cold and dark and it pulls him into the mouth of hell.
Eddie Munson is twenty-one and he hasn’t been in the water in almost a year. He knows, the golden boy with the the heart of gold, the boy he knew who was born to be in the water, hasn’t been in a pool just as long. Eddie understands, after the night at Lover’s Lake and after learning that Barb died in the pool. He watches the kids, splashing water around and playing games. He finds Will, laughing and smiling as he floats in the water and Eddie forces himself to remember this moment and not his fake body floating around the Quarry. Steve’s fixing the snacks with Nancy and Robin’s reading a book beside him, her head on his shoulders.
The kids have been bugging him to get in the pool, but Eddie has been dodging their requests for almost a year now. It’s suspiciously quiet for a moment and before Eddie can understand what’s happening the girls are counting down as the boys hold him by the shoulder and by the feet and throw him in the water. He hears a stream of screaming before the water hits his ears, and it swallows him whole. It’s nothing like the soft and warm embrace of the ocean. It’s cold and dark and suddenly it’s pulling him back into the mouth of hell. He wants to swim up, he needs to swim up, but he sees the vines pulling him and tries to fight it, trash against it. It doesn’t budge, so he let’s himself be pulled in.
Steve Harrington hasn’t been in the water in 11 months, 24 days, and 8 hours. But at that moment, every thought and fear in his body vanishes when he sees Eddie sinking into the pool, fighting the water before letting it swallow him whole. Steve dives so fast, he forgets how much he’s hated the coldness of the pool. But Eddie’s down there, and no place with Eddie in it will ever be dark. Eddie’s eyes are closed, as he scoops him in his arms, swimming back to the surface and immediately laying him down on the poolside.
“Move!” Steve shouts, and the kids are so surprised that they pave a way for him, they’ve never seen Steve this mad at them. He gives Eddie CPR and suddenly, he’s back in the Upside Down. His hands are red with blood, Dustin’s begging him to help Eddie, Robin’s cradling Dustin as Nancy tries to stop the bleeding. He does the same prayer as he pumps at Eddie’s chest, please let him live please let him live please let hi— Eddie coughs water. The kids collectively sigh as Robin and Nancy both wrap them in towels. But in the chaos, Steve just cries, trying to remember how to breathe again because they’re in his backyard, not in the Upside Down. Eddie’s okay. Eddie’s okay. He’s not bleeding and in the cusp of dying.
“Oh, love. I am okay. I am okay. I am okay.” Eddie holds him, wincing at the pain in his chest, but still holds him in his arms. Eddie glares at the kids, looking up to Robin and Nancy to gesture for them to go in the house and leave them. When it’s finally just them, Eddie pulls away, wiping at Steve’s cheeks and cupping his jaw. Eddie preens at the fact that Steve doesn’t pull away.
“Hey, you good?” Steve laughs at the question, “I should be asking you that.” Eddie chuckles at the sound of his laugh.
“I am okay. I’ll live. How about you? You haven’t swam in a while and you gave me another CPR. I am sorry.” Steve shakes his head.
“Don’t say sorry. I’ll do it all again for you.”
Eddie does what he’s always wanted do since the age of thirteen. He kisses Steve for the first time, and it’s like falling in love with the water all over again. He remembers the light, the blue, the warmth. It's like being seven again and wiggling his toes in the sand for the first time.
Eddie Munson is twenty-seven when he gets married. Not legally, but married in the eyes of their family. Steve’s laughing with the kids as they play chicken, the water splashing around. Eddie lets himself enjoy the sand beneath his feet, the sound of the water crashing against the shore, the sounds of Robin and Argyle arguing about the snacks and the kids laughing.
“Eds!” Eddie looks up from his book.
Steve is calling him from the water, golden hair wet and smile bright, “Come in the water! It’s warm!”
Eddie smiles back at him, slipping a bookmark between the pages before running to Steve’s arms, making both of them fall into the water. There’s no fear, not when he’s in the arms of his husband, the boy who was born to be in the water. It’s warm and soft and it’s home.
Eddie will always come back to the water, always waiting for it, always watching it, will always love it.
Because Eddie Munson is the shore, and Steve Harrington is the ocean.
"Because there is nothing more beautiful than the way the [shore] refuses to stop kissing the [ocean] no matter how many times it [had went] away." — Sarah Kay
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she got the best of me (jake seresin pt.9/12)
PART OF MY “WHATEVER THIS IS” SERIES WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE
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PAIRING: JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN x Female Plus Size Bartender!Reader
NICKNAME: Sunshine
Warning: A bit of self-body shaming
It goes without saying but I do not give permission for anyone to use my work or copy it somewhere else.
PLOT: Penny Benjamin’s niece works at The Hard Deck, saving the money she earns to get out of the west coast and put herself through Graduate School. What happens when a pretty boy pilot ends up as her fake boyfriend?
PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR / PART FIVE / PART SIX / PART SEVEN / PART EIGHT / PART NINE / PART TEN / PART ELEVEN / FINAL PART
Jake began reaching out immediately the morning after his birthday to try and beg for the opportunity to try to fix his mistakes. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love his groveling, but it did little to alleviate the growing ache in your ribcage, right below your clavicle where the hurt burned. There was a gaping hole where your security used to be nestled, the comfort of a humming rhythm that sounded like independence.
He’d struck out twice and you really weren’t trying to go for a third go. But even so, you now hated the space you existed in, cursing at the emptiness of the couch cushions and the perfectly placed knit blanket being exactly where you left it the last time it was used. You hated your coffee maker, waiting patiently for you to brew the first fresh pot in the morning. It was too quiet, too perfect and you missed Jake’s touch in everything that you had become. You hated it.
You’d began to pick back up with your shifts at the Hard Deck the day after Hangman’s birthday, no longer afraid to approach the old memories after having the opportunity to call him out on the bullshit. He’d yet to show up after work for his usual beer, perhaps too afraid to face your seething wrath in person or not quite able to afford the possibility of Penny ringing the bell the minute he came into her line of site.
The line went silent after a week or so and you were grateful to learn that Mav had set up a training exercise that would take them out to sea for a week, the time to think without the looming of his presence on North Island would be a fresh breath of air. It gave you just enough peace to wrap up your final revisions to your Thesis for school, to focus enough to present in front of your faculty.
After the closed presentation wrapped, you were left alone in the empty hallway of the college awaiting the news of the decision to graduate you. Wearing a floral jumpsuit and denim jacket, your leg bounced unapologetically while you tried to find a comfortable resting spot for your leg.
Silence was deafening as it ate away at your confidence, leaving you to pick persistently at your cuticles when a door burst open down the hall. A flood of bodies seeped through the seemingly small, framed door through the patches of white light. It was blinding but you recognized the khaki service uniforms easily and stood when Nat’s face sharpened in the natural light of the hallway. “You’re back,” you comment, rising to your feet to wrap your arms around her, Aries collecting the two of you in her arms tightly.
“We just got off the boat a half an hour ago,” Nat explains, pulling back so that you can hug the rest of the squad.
“We didn’t want you to be alone while you waited for the decision,” Gemini muses as she rubs your back, a soothing and calm gesture from the quiet WSO. The comment warmed your heart as you took in all the faces, all except for –
“He didn’t think you’d want to see him,” Fanboy comments before you even get the chance to process the lack of Jake’s face in the crowd. And though the sentiment is genuine and kind of him, a considerate thought, you’d never needed his presence more as you awaited the future decision that would make or break your career.
Mav, ever the head of the found family, stepped through the crowd to hug you tightly. “Penny is setting up a barbeque tonight in celebration of your success,” his change of topic swift, “Like a graduation party in the backyard.”
“And then Rooster and I are going to see up a bonfire on the beach for after,” Payback remarks, nudging the tall, broad man. Rooster nods, his mind elsewhere as he tries to smile.
“I don’t know if I’ve passed,” you admit honestly, the quiver in your tone evident to the pilots surrounding you and showering you with love. It warms your heart and makes you take a shaky breath, curling into a smile. Eventually, everyone lays out on the waiting benches and the tiled floor. They share their stories of training, as much as the confidentiality of the military allows.
It’s in the quiet of the hallway of your university that Bob and Gemini share the news of their engagement. “Wait, what?” you ask, staring back and forth between the two. Blooming blushes seep through their cheeks as they lean into one another. You take in their comfortability, the closeness and the rings resting against the metal of their dog tags. “I guess I really shouldn’t be surprised with the way the two of you always snuck off together. I’m assuming pre-North Island?”
“Three years back in Lemoore,” Gemini quips, staring up at Bob lovingly.
“Good god you two are patient,” you giggle just as there is a click of a lock across the hall, and everyone freezes. Slowly, the door creeps open and your faculty mentor appears with a wide smile. You feel sheepish in the moment, your family surrounding you and crowding the hallway.
“We’re ready for you, dear,” her voice is gentle as she nods to the room, smiling around at all the pilots on the floor. You nod, bite your lip as you stand on shaky knees and cross the floor to follow her in the room. Minutes later, you return to the hallway and to the bitter silence. Only knowing the group to be a rowdy bunch of beer drinkers, you were shocked to be met with such a wall of silence when you return to the hallway a few minutes later.
“I passed,” you announce to the group, sobs of excitement coaxing out of your throat, and you jump up and down in your best friends’ arms. The hallway erupts in a roar of ovations, rising to their feet to join in the circle of elation. Javy lifts you through the air in delight while Mav wipes a few tears from his lashes, proud of the woman you’d become.
The noise is so frightening, your mentor comes back through the door as concern dissipates at the celebration. She’s sweet when she asks you all to move out of the building for the respect of the offices while laughing. Fanboy joins your car, praising you as you all make a brigade down the road to get to Penny’s house. When you turn the corner to her street, Rooster begins to honk the horn of his blue Bronco, an echoing mirage of horns blaring as the cars pull up outside the house in a single formation.
The notion and attention make you laugh in embarrassment, though you’re not truly embarrassed. Honored is more like it, you pinpoint just before you climb out of the vehicle and follow the cheering crowd through the doors into the house. Amelia sees you first, rushing up to you and squeezing you tightly around the middle.
            “There she is,” Penny’s voice echoes through the kitchen as she comes around the corner, joining in the hug as the pilots make their way outside into the decorated backyard. “My niece, a professor,” she coos and tightens her grip slightly.
            “I’m so proud of you,” she murmurs, knowing the struggle you have around genuine compliments. “Someone begged me to come in, I hope you’re okay with that.” Penny’s tone turns gentle but stern as she keeps an arm around your waist as she turns to the kitchen. And there he is.
            Jake’s dressed casually in a white button down and light washed jeans. His hair is sunkissed from the days at sea. He’d clearly been dragging his fingers through it in anxious tugs because it looked wild, sticking up in a few different spots. Freshly shaven, his lips were pressed in a tight smile to try to hide his nerves and he clutches a bouquet of white daisies, wrapped in your favorite flower shop’s kraft paper.
            “I’m okay,” you turn to share a look with Penny, letting her slide from your body and ushering Mav through the glass doors into the backyard to give you privacy. You return your gaze to Jake and silence encases the two of you, suffocating the room as your hands come to clutch each other in front of your tummy.
The act is subtle and yet, Jake feels your self-conscious thoughts through the air. It makes him hate himself more. Makes him wish he’d drowned in the freezing icy depths of the water after having to had eject from his aircraft four days prior during an exercise. “There’s too many things I want to say, I don’t know where to start,” his words slice through the tension, an honest admission that sounds so vulnerable compared to your last conversation.
“Try one,” you scoff.
“I’m in lo-,” he starts but your face turns sour, eyes wide at the imagination of what’s at the end of that sentence. His brows crease at the words and he takes in your discomfort.
“Try a smaller one,” you prompt him and he’s nodding dumbly, swallowing. His hands are so sweaty that they stick to the kraft paper in his hands.
“Congratulations on passing,” Jake says, starting small like you recommended. He watches your shoulders relax slightly and takes a deep breath. “I’m really proud of you.”
“Thank you,” you tell him, suddenly feeling the burning sensation behind your eyes. After all morning of wanting his comfort, of his arms around you as you awaited the fate of your life – all you had pictured was him. And now, here in front of you, you felt it impossible to look him in the eye. You zeroed in on the flowers in his hand, on the squeezing of the stems in his grasp. Too many things to say. “What else?” you ask, staring down at your painted toes.
“You look beautiful,” Jake shares, taking in the floral pattern of your jumpsuit and the way you’d grown out the pieces of hair around your face, framing your round features to perfection. “I fucked things up, I have so much to apologize for. I was terrible and I don’t deserve you. I almost died during an exercise and the first person I saw when I was going down was you. The watch is perfect, these are for you,” Jake begins to list everything as it rolls off his tongue like a hurried admission of guilt, shifting awkwardly from his spot in the doorway of the kitchen.
Your brain is trying to take in everything he’s throwing at you, a headache coming on as he shuffles closer to you to offer the flowers into your grasp. But the action leaves his hands empty, and he doesn’t know how to move his limbs anymore, so he shoves them in his pockets to avoid the tremor he’d developed when he stupidly walked away from you.
“Slow down,” you quip with frustration, eyes closing. It’s the first visceral reaction he’s seen from you since his birthday, and he’d never been more grateful. “You nearly died? What the fuck Jake?” you drop your flowers lightly onto the entryway table and reach up to grasp his cheeks. You notice the yellowing of a faded bruise on his cheekbone and the picky scabbing of a cut along his hairline. Your fingers gently brush over it with a tenderness that has Jake melting. He’d give anything to keep your hands on him. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” his shaking fingertips reach up to cover yours. “I’d really love to apologize first for everything that happened before we talk about me.” The memories of your empty bed find their way back to the center of your mind and your hands slip away back to your sides like his skin was a flame licking you into a scorching burn.
“I thought leaving was the smartest move,” Jake finally admits, his words hanging in the air as the tension builds up. A flare of anger wafts through you as you take another step away from him.
You clench your jaw tightly, trying to maintain your cool. You just graduated…today is supposed to be a good day. “I told you how terrible my ex was about my body, and you thought it was a good idea to leave after you see my figure for the first time? You thought that was smart?”
“I shouldn’t have slept with you that night,” Jake says.
“Wow.”
“No,” his hands go up in defense, irritated that he can’t communicate that he wants to, the way you deserve. “That’s not what I meant,” Jake curses and wipes a hand over his reddened face. “I shouldn’t have slept with you that night because I wanted you to know how much you meant to me before we got further in our relationship.”
“That is so,”
“Let me explain,” his voice is strong, stopping you in your place as he finally finds his footing. He’s standing steady now, hands on his hips as he comes clean and lets all his insecurities out. “Sleeping with you after that party felt like something Hangman would’ve done. Who I was before I knew you, before you let me into your life who thought intimacy was a quick one-night stand with some girl whose name I didn’t remember the next morning.”
You wrap your arms around yourself, listening intently to his confession as your back rests against the cool wall. “You deserved so much more than that guy, and, in that moment, I felt like I hadn’t made progress in showing you who I’d become,” he steps forward slightly, closer in proximity of your space and you don’t stop him. “I felt like I wasn’t showing up as who I’d become with you beside me and even though we were becoming more than some stupid fake relationship, I got insecure that I couldn’t be everything for you the way that you’re everything I’ve ever needed in my life. So, I left,” he nods, tears starting to collect at his waterline.
“I left in a moment of self-conscious, self-loathing. And it was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done and I’m so sorry.”
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kozukatt · 10 months
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Ninjago x Reader headcanons (Bad Day)
✫Zane✫
✫ Whenever you feel down he would make your favorite food 
✫ If you don’t want to eat then he would save said food until you do
✫ His love language is acts of service so he would clean your room for you, make your favorite food, etc. just to see you smile
✫ Zane believes that the way to the heart is through words so he would constantly give you affirmations
✫ If it’s just one of those days where you can’t get out of bed, that’s fine! He would sit with you and bring you anything you need
✫ Zane is a very respectful guy. If you don’t want to be touched? He won’t. If you want quiet? He’ll be quiet. If you need to be alone? He’ll leave you alone, but will check up on you every hour or so
✫ A lot of times, when he’s on missions, he’ll bring you back a small trinket. Maybe it’s a pretty rock or a picture he found that reminded him of you
✫ As soon as he gets back from being out with the ninja, he goes to check on you. It doesn’t matter how long he’s been gone, you will always be his first priority 
Cole
 Tries to make you laugh all the time but if you don’t, he will gladly sit in silence with you
 An absolute teddy bear when it comes to cuddling. He loves physical affection and will always offer to hold you
 If you don’t like physical touch that’s alright! He will give you space and words of encouragement 
 Whenever you’re feeling down he would try to make you a cake, and inevitably come to ask you for help
 If you have body issues (dysmorphia, eating disorder, etc.) he’s in the same boat as you so he will do anything in his power to make you feel better
 Even if he is a people person, Cole appreciates the quiet things that come with a bad day. Of course he doesn’t want you to have one but is okay and will help you
 If Jay tries to ruin a moment in between you, Cole will glare at him until he leaves before going back and making sure you’re okay 
☯︎︎Jay☯︎︎
☯︎︎ Like Cole,he tries to make you laugh no matter what
☯︎︎ But if you tell him to stop he will always do so
☯︎︎ Won’t ever try to push your limits. If you say that you can’t, he won’t push you
☯︎︎ Even if he is a loud person he’s capable of being quiet when you need it
☯︎︎ Freaks out whenever you have a bad day but quickly gets over it to help you
☯︎︎ A sensitive guy. If you start crying then he’ll start crying
☯︎︎ He’ll offer to play him games with you if you feel up to it and will go easy on you to let you win
☯︎︎ If you want quiet then he’ll be quiet, maybe tinker with some invention he’s working on as quiet as he can
☯︎︎ Boy can’t sit still so he’s constantly moving, which leads him to drag you out of bed and dance when a good song comes on
☯︎︎ If you ever want to play with his hair he will gladly let you
☯︎︎ A very physical person but will respect your boundaries
☼Kai☼
☼ If you don’t want him to bother you he will leave you alone no questions asked
☼ If you just lay on him he won’t object he’ll just let you and rest his arm on your body
☼ He’ll do stupid tricks to try and make you laugh
☼ Will baby you automatically from being big bro Kai for most of his life
☼ Gives death glares to anyone who interrupts your conversation or cuddles
☼ Values quality time over anything else
☼ So. Many. Head. Kisses. 
☼ If you let him he would spike your hair up like his
☼ He’s a hair stylist so he will fix your hair if you impulse cut it but before he’d make sure you’re safe
☼ Sends you memes when he’s out on missions 
𖦹Lloyd𖦹
𖦹 Hes not good at understanding emotions so whenever you’re having a bad day he’ll be confused but understand once you explain
𖦹 Let’s you read his comics when he’s on missions (bro values those things above everything so it’s an honor)
𖦹 Just a kid in an older body so he doesn’t know how to deal with a lot of things but will try his hardest
𖦹 Music is his coping skill so he tries to let you have that too
𖦹 Tries to make you stuff but ends up with glue and paint everywhere
𖦹 The most wholesome guy he will do anything to help you even if it’s just getting you water and food
𖦹 If you want to try on his gi he’ll let you and even let you do a little fashion show for him
𖦹 Buys you thing. Whatever it is you want he gets. No questions asked
༆Nya༆
༆ The aggressive girlfriend we all need but will be soft when it’s needed
༆ Doesn’t take bullshit so you are drinking water and eating food
༆ Brushes your hair for you in bed if you can’t get up 
༆ So many cuddles and affirmations on how good you’re doing and how proud she is of you
༆ If you need to cry? She’s there. You need to scream? She’s there. Whatever you need to do she’ll be there
༆ A massage goddess (if you’re okay with it)
༆ If you start going down that rabbit hole she stops you and aggressively tells you how much you mean to her and may tear up doing so
༆ Can’t stand seeing you like this so she tries to do whatever she can to cheer you up
༆ Won’t let you rot away in your room she will make you come outside if you’ve stayed in bed for more than a day
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Text
UMMM UM I'M SORRY TO DO THIS BUT UHH
HOBIE x SPIRITUAL!OC
HOBIE X BLACK!OC THAT'S LIKE ERYKAH BADU
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Do you see it do you see it
Like an incense-burning super-calm natured, grounded, centered black sista
They both have natural hair she compliments him on all the time. In fact, it was one of the first things she said to him - and it stuck with Hobie. Hardly anyone compliments his hair - that like that.
To others, his hair 'interesting' or at most 'stylish'. But he's never had someone call his hair beautiful, or healthy, or inspiring.
She's like 'brotha you need to put me onto what you're on' because seeing Hobie with hair so free and thriving in the world is something so rare and valuable
And her saying that sticks with him so much.
She talks JUST as cryptically as he does.
Most of the things she says are almost phrased like poems. Always dropping little nuggets of knowledge about spirit and racism and balance
Lots of time she'll make references to poems, of quote lines of books from black female writers like Maya Angelou.
She sees him after a long day, telling him 'Look at you, giving a caged bird a reason to sing'
Their conversations sound confusing as FUCK. Hobie and her are always talking in metaphors and making jokes referencing leftist thinkers
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They're very into black love.
They bond over literature written by black anti-apartheid thinkers in South Africa, she teaches him how to celebrate Kwanzaa - after Hobie spent years ignoring the holidays (bad memories)
She probably plays the guitar or the bass, but her music is the opposite of his. Hers is the 'smoke sesh' type of slow lofi. Full of hypnotic soothing cards and whisper vocals. Just a politically charged, just as socially concious
She's a lot more spiritual than him, and it's something he has to get used to.
It takes him a bit.
She's ALWAYS burning incense. She'll tuck one behind her air and forget about it, she only wears Earth and jewel tones.
Her house is stacked high with nonfiction books, and she's the only one who can make his cup of tea better than he can - she even got him into green tea. Now he knows what oolong is. What the hell
Sure she makes him take off his boats EVERYTIME he comes over - and was horrified the first time he just walked up in her place with them on - he's still over there all the time.
It's one place he knows he can find calm, or feel safe.
To be honest, she's probably not into his music too much.
She's not into the big crowds and big speakers and drinking at the venues.
She loves hearing HIM play. She doesn't need the bright lights or vocalists or drummers or any of it at all-
Instead she'll just sit on the floor of his boathouse, barefoot and criss cross as she watches him strum away.
And she ADORES when he plays accoustic - something he'll do exclusively for her
The DYNAMIC THE DYNAMIC OKAY
She's not a Spider person. She's a helper in this world too, but she'd rather be a healer than a hero.
It's how she keeps her peace. She's a lot more quiet and soft-spoken than him, but not because she's shy. She's just chilling. Fully committed to never letting no one stress her over NOTHING
Half the time Hobie will be joking or messing or playfully teasing her and she'll be like 'Boy, stop stressing me out.'
And when he's pushed to the edge, full of anger and bitterness and resent at the world, at what they're forced to, by the responsibility he carriers - she's always there to rub circles into his shoulders, putting a record on the player as she fixes them some tea.
He doesn't believe in all that mystic shit, not that much.
The first time he went to her place he raised an eyebrow, asking about her supposed 'rock collection'.
'Those are crystals.'
She explains what they are, and why she keeps them. How she uses them in her spiritual work. He thinks it's a load of bullocks.
Does he actually think this hunk of clear rock is going to 'purify' anything in a world like theirs? NO.
He won't say it, but she can read his vibes like a book.
But she explains that - regardless of all that - most of her crystals were taken from the motherland. And that she's happy having them, it's a way to reclaim a bit of the land they all were taken from.
When he asks what the hell is motherland is she's like
'Africa, Hobie.'
They have some interesting conversations. They were the world VERY VERY differently, but they always see eye-to-eye eventually.
He may not believe in it, but he believes in her.
And when he's at the end of his rope, coming to get place beat to hell and back - and she puts on that incense, the sound of her music hypnotic and sedative - he can't help but feel like he's lost in that world with her.
Hobie believes in anarchy, in all things. He'd love to think that the universe has it all figured out, that everything is in perfect balance as is - but he's not buying it.
And yet sometimes she seems so sure, and so grounded, that he can't help but fall back on her. And she's okay with it, that's what she's there for.
She's happy to exist in silence with him, quietly teaching him the difference between Frankincense and Myrrh incense, the historical uses and how to tell the difference.
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She gives him small gifts if things she's made - Florida Water (the spiritual cologne not literal Florida water 😭) for him to use as protection, a cowrie shell bracelet, herbal tea blends made by hand.
She sews up holes in his vest or suit, humming quietly as he lays on the floor, soul food cooking on the stove
DO YOU FEEL THE VIBES DO YOU DO YOU
He's fire and brimstone and loud guitar solos. She's wind and earth, and meditation sessions. She's not a pacifist and she doesn't judge
Despite being two very different people, who approach life in two very different ways, they still find themselves on the same path of wanting to help people
HOBIE AND A SPIRITUAL SISTA. HOBIE AND A BLACK!HIPPIE!READER. PLEASE. I BEG OF YOU.
LET HOBIE FIND PEACE
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33 notes · View notes
medusapelagia · 8 months
Text
26 AU-gust: Lighthouse - Part 1
Part 1 - Part 2 - [Part 3?]
Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson WT: Monsters WC: 3159
Steve always knew that he was going to end up like this. Alone in the middle of nowhere.
That was not exactly what he was envisioning when his father convinced him to join the navy, still, after a few weeks at the Naval Academy he quickly found out that it wasn’t exactly how his father told him. Or at least, it wasn’t for him.
He didn’t like the cruel pranks that the older boys did to the others, and even if his friends from high school, Billy and Tommy, managed to find their spot in this new environment, Steve struggled.
Not at school, he was the best of his course, but he never fit in. 
He was the teacher’s pet and the son of Fleet Admiral Richard Harrington. Everyone thought that he had a bright future in front of him.
The only one who wasn’t so sure about that was Captain Hopper.
Every day he tried to make Steve snap, and when he finally did he found himself boarded on a ship that was going to carry him toward an abandoned lighthouse in the middle of nowhere.
“Staying in the quiet will help your temperament.” His father has told him the only time he tried to complain about it.
He didn’t know exactly what was going on between his father and Hopper but he was quite sure that he was a victim of crossfire.
He sighs. 
He has already taken a plane and a ship, and he is going to take a little boat to finally get to the remote island where he is supposed to stay for the next six months.
When he finally gets there he sees that the lighthouse is almost in ruins but luckily there are a lot of tools inside a tool shed. He looks around, taking notes about the renovation that he should be doing.
Thank god it’s June, so he can sleep inside the lighthouse the first night without worrying too much about the broken windows.
In the next few days, he starts to fix everything while making sure that the light is always on.
At night, when he sits beside the lighthouse, looking at the waves. He has the feeling that someone is staring at him, but he knows that it’s just his imagination.
Being alone on a fucking island in the middle of nowhere does things to your mind.
He doesn’t think he is crazy, at least not like the previous lighthouse keeper who apparently killed himself just a few days before Steve was sent there.
At least that’s what Robin said when she came the first time. He is becoming friends with the strange girl who, every few days, brings him groceries and keeps an eye on him.
She has a very strange kind of humorism but he gets her and she does the same. Every time, before leaving and going back to the bigger island a few miles away, she always says “If your sense of humor is still intact you are fine.”
And he is fine. 
Only… he really has the feeling that someone is watching him.
Strange, right?
***
After a couple of weeks that he is staying at the lighthouse he finally finds out who was watching him all this time: a black and white cat with yellow eyes that jumps on his chest one night while he is sleeping.
Obviously, he wakes up with a startle and the cat falls from the bed, hissing in an offended voice.
He, Steve has found out quickly enough that it’s a male, and is very good at hunting mice and hiding, but now that the season is getting colder the cat seems to have some problems finding food so he usually steals some of Steve’s provisions even if Steve always leaves some fresh fish and water for him.
“I swear to god, Steve, that cat is getting fatter and fatter! You shouldn’t give him all your food.” Robin scolds him while he is taking the groceries.
Steve smiles at the girl, who is petting the cat. He knows perfectly well that the cat steals some food, it’s like a game to him and he doesn’t mind. 
He is his companion after all.
Days become weeks and then months and that cat becomes more and more tamed, always following Steve around while he keeps fixing anything he can.
The months have gone by quickly and he is getting so used to being alone with the cat that is almost ready to ask his father to let him stay at the lighthouse a little longer when he sees a boat in trouble. The wind is strong, the waves rough and the dark is not helping.
He had never seen a boat in all the months that he stayed there, maybe they came with a bigger ship and got lost. It doesn’t matter what happened, he has to help them.
Steve looks around. He knows that he is not supposed to leave the lighthouse, if something should happen to him no one will be there to keep the lighthouse functioning, but the boat seems so close!
He looks at the cat “Wait for me.” he says, and then he grabs his yellow raincoat and starts to run toward his little boat. 
The waves get bigger and bigger, but he keeps going, the boat seems close, so close.
“Hey! Here! To the lighthouse!” he screams in the dark, moving the light he has in one hand to attract the attention of the other boat.
Only… it almost seems that no one is on that boat. 
Which is not possible, right? A little boat like that couldn’t have reached the lighthouse alone! Not with weather like that.
He sees something moving in the water when his light beam hits the black sea, something with a long tail. A dolphin? Or a shark?
But he has no time to think about that.
Another wave makes his boat crash against the rocks and he falls, swallowed by the icy cold and dark water.
Steve still has his light in his hand and for a moment he sees a black-haired boy in front of him.
But something is wrong: his eyes are too far on the side of his face and he is tilting his head looking at him with curiosity.
Steve is enraptured by those strange eyes that are looking at him, eyes that have no lids, like the fish.
He closes his eyes for a moment and when he reopens them the boy it’s even closer to him.
Only.
It’s not a boy.
He has a fucking tail.
Steve would like to scream, but an arm is dragging him down, toward the ocean’s floor.
The surface gets farther by the moment.
He is going to die in this cold water and no one will ever find his body.
Steve's last thought is for the lighthouse, and when he opens his mouth to breathe he drinks salt water instead of oxygen.
***
Someone is pushing on his chest, hard, and when he opens his eyes he sees the blond hair of Robin’s head.
He turns to his side, spitting salt water.
His chest burns so much that he thinks that he is going to die.
He keeps spitting for what feels like hours, while Robin keeps moving his hands in a circular motion against his back.
Then he let himself fall to the ground.
“What the fuck were you doing? Do you want to kill yourself?” the girl scolds him, punching him on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry. There was a boat last night.” he tries to explain, but his chest burns so much that it's not easy to explain what happened the night before.
“No boat could have reached the lighthouse last night. The winds were too strong!” she rebukes him, but helps him get on his feet.
“You are lucky your stupid cat came to find me. Or you’ll be fucking death.
He thought he was going to die.
He remembers that.
But it doesn’t remember anything more.
Maybe he hit his head harder than he thought.
On the shore, there are pieces of his boat. 
“I need a new boat.” he simply states.
“Yeah, no shit.” Robin replies, getting closer to him.
She helps him back to the lighthouse and then makes some tea for him.
“You shouldn’t have left the lighthouse. In case of an emergency, you call help from the stupid radio that you have, ok?”
He nods, sipping his tea.
The water is calm and blue, nothing to do with last night.
He has the terrible sensation that he forgot something important but he has no idea what it might be.
The cat sniffs him and then goes away irritated.
“What have you done to the cat?”
Nothing that he knows. So he shrugs and keeps drinking the tea.
***
Three more days that the cat is ignoring him. Three more days that the cat is not even inside the lighthouse. Three more days of food that keep disappearing.
Worried that mice might be getting into the pantry, he tries to keep awake while staring at the pantry but finally gets asleep.
When he opens his eyes the door is ajar, but that’s not what woke him.
There is a sound in the air. A voice? A song? He doesn’t know. But it’s calling for him.
When he gets closer to the beach he sees a beautiful woman singing. She has curly hair, just like Nancy, and the same grin she had.
“Nancy?” he calls, and the woman nods.
Somehow it seems absolutely normal to him that his ex-girlfriend could be playing in the water of a remote island in the middle of the night.
He sets foot in the water.
It’s freezing cold.
“Come here, Nancy. It’s too cold to take a swim.” he calls her, but the woman keeps smiling beckoning him.
The level of the water is at his ankle.
He keeps going.
The level of the water is at his knees.
The smile on the woman’s face seems more mischievous.
Something is wrong.
Something it’s deeply wrong.
He has to help Nancy get out of the water and then…
He feels something touch his ankle.
He looks down only for a moment.
It’s a tail.
A huge red tail.
He hears a shriek and the beautiful woman is now a monster who is stretching her nailed arms toward him.
He can’t move. Or scream. He just keeps staring at the monster knowing that she will be the last thing that he sees, when something drags him underwater for a moment and quickly swims away, keeping him in a tight grip.
The red-tailed monster is following them, even if the other creature had the advantage of surprise effect, the red one is quicker.
Big breath.
Steve obeys and takes a big breath, and in a moment they are under the surface.
His ears scream for the pressure, but the creature is holding him tight and dragging him down and down and down.
The red monster it’s so close. She manages to scratch Steve’s leg and he loses one of his shoes, but before she can attack him again they hide behind some rocks and the red creature is too big to follow them.
Great. He will not be eaten by a monster, but he still needs some oxygen.
He starts to squirm to free himself from the tight grip. He needs to get to the surface. Now.
The creature doesn’t release him but starts to swim toward the surface, or at least Steve hopes it is.
Everything is black.
He doesn’t know where is up or down.
Air.
He needs air.
I know.
He doesn’t have time to analyze the fact that he is hearing voices in his mind because he finally breaks the surface and takes the biggest breath he has ever taken.
The air smells bad. It’s humid and smells of rotten fish, but the air never felt so sweet to him.
The creature doesn’t free him, it keeps swimming toward some cliffs, helping him out of the water.
Stay.
And Steve stays because there is no other place he can go.
He is scared out of his mind.
A monster tried to kill him, another brought him to his den and will probably try to kill him later and he has no fucking idea of where the hell he is.
He tries to calm down, taking some deep breaths, and when his mind is a little bit more lucid he remembers that the clock that his father gave him for graduation has a little torch.
He lights it up and looks around him. He is in a cave, a sea cave, and from the look of it, it seems that part of the cave has collapsed so that the only entrance is from the water.
The water looks quite deep and there are a few fish that are swimming toward his light. 
And under the fish, he sees a white humanoid figure.
Suddenly he remembers the night of the storm.
The boat.
The creature that dragged him down.
The boy that wasn’t a boy.
The very same boy is looking at him from behind the surface. 
It seems like he is giving him time to get used to him.
His face looks even stranger, seen from above, under the rippling water.
The creature gets closer to the surface, slowly, maybe trying not to startle Steve, and then he emerges only with the crow of his head and his eyes.
His strange eyes with no lids.
I can change it if you prefer.
Steve looks at him astonished.
“Are you talking to me in my mind?”
He tilts his head.
“I… I hear your voice in my mind.”
He shakes his head, then lifts a webbed hand against his chest and makes a sound. It seems like a song. Something old that he knew but forgot. It’s the song his grandma used to sing to him when he was a child, far too young to remember it.
These are vibrations. 
“How do you know that song?”
I know no song. I feel vibrations and I repeat them.
Steve is so confused that the less strange thing at the moment is that an unknown marine creature knows the song his grandma used to sing to him.
“Where am I?”
Safe.
“What was that? The red creature.”
Siren. 
He looks at the creature, he has a tail as well but it’s different. Is dark and looks more like an eel than a fish.
“And you are not?”
Different.
Different. Yeah. He noticed when he didn’t try to eat him. Or maybe he would try later.
No eat. You got food.
And then it clicks.
It wasn’t the cat that was robbing the food. It was this creature.
“How do you… I mean… You have a tail and the lighthouse is not so close to the water…”
Change?
“Change? What does it mean?”
The creature gets closer, holding on to some rocks, and then he closes his eyes while Steve sees the tail divided into two and then become a pair of legs, the eyes move from the side to the center of the face, and the gills on his neck close.
In front of him, right now, there is a naked and wet dark-haired boy.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
He has so many questions right now but he is speechless.
“In this form. No vibration. Talk.”
“Oh… You can’t read my mind if you are human? Because you are human now, right?”
“Not human. Always me. Just. Changed.”
Steve nods.
“And the other siren can she change as well? She can come to my house and…”
The boy shakes his head “Different. Bigger. Longer tale. No change. But knows songs.”
“Which songs?”
“Soul’s songs.”
And yeah… the song she was singing felt deeply personal. And she changed more and more into Nancy the closer he got.
“Me no song. Me vibration.”
Steve is going to ask the most stupid question in the world but… “Did you try to drown me? During the storm.”
The creature shakes his head “Bad. Storm too strong. Steve don’t go.”
Steve? How the hell does he know his name?
But if he has always stayed around he must have heard Robin call him.
“What are you?”
“Mermaid.”
Oh. That explains it all.
“What…”
“Sirens evil. They play with people and then eat them. Like cat.”
“While mermaids.”
“Don’t.”
Perfect. So maybe he is not going to become mermaid food. Not tonight at least.
“Why were you in the water the night of the storm?”
He giggles. Honest to god the mermaid giggles.
“I live in water, silly!”
“Yeah, I mean… There was a boat! I saw a boat and…”
He shakes his head “No boat. Sirens.”
Holy shit. 
“And you dragged me away from the sirens.”
He nods.
“Change back?”
Now that Steve is looking at him, he sees that he has goosebumps, the water must be freezing for his human form.
“Yeah go on.” he is fucking freezing as well but there is nothing he can do.
“Look, it’s too cold for me here, and I don’t know how long the battery of my torch will work. I need to go back to the lighthouse.
The mermaid nods.
Later. Sirens.
Yeah.
He is not really looking to repeat the experience, so he thinks that a little cold could be worth it.
“Will you tell me when it’s safe?”
The mermaid nods and disappears under the surface.
Steve turns off his light and resigns himself to wait.
***
Something is touching his leg, but he is so tired. 
“Five more minutes, mum…” he protests, but when he tries to turn he falls into the cold water and he is immediately very awake.
The mermaid is at his side, holding his head out of the water.
You hot.
Steve doesn’t know what it means, he feels so fucking cold!
Big Breath.
He takes a big breath and lets the creature drag him under the surface.
It must be a day because he can finally see the rocks while they swim to the surface. When he is finally back with his head out of the surface he tries to swim toward the lighthouse, but the mermaid holds him tight and drags him with him toward some rocks.
He leaves him close enough to the shore but not so close that anyone could see him.
“Thank you.”
Safe. The creature repeats, before disappearing.
When he gets back to the house the cat is avoiding him even more, and then he understands it. The cat can smell the mermaid’s scent on him.
That’s why he started living outside.
He feels unwell. Too hot and too cold at the same time.
He manages somehow to shower, just to wash away the seawater, and then collapses on the bed.
[to be continued...?]
31 notes · View notes
bumblesimagines · 11 months
Text
Under The Moonlight
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Part 14
Request: Yes or No
~~~
Mountains and forests stretched out on either side of the large lake, rich and covered in luscious green. Winter had begun releasing its vicious claws on the land. The days became warmer, the snow melted faster, and there were more sightings of animals. Spring would soon settle in nicely, providing relief from the freezing nights and numbing snow. A welcome season for them all. Especially with the prospect of fishing and plants blossoming. More food, more comfort. 
But while the first signs of spring had lifted everyone's moods, (Y/N) found himself thinking of something else. Of someone else. His sister. 
The last time he'd seen Freydis had been months ago when her belly became noticeable. He remembered how long it had taken for his younger brothers to be born, and if his line of thought was correct, it meant Freydis had likely had her child by now. He smiled at the thought of his sister being a mother. She'd always been a natural with children, but she'd never shown any interest in having her own. Though, there was always the knowledge that many mothers passed during childbirth. He could only pray to Freya that she had kept Freydis safe and strong during her labor. 
"It is beautiful out here." He turned his eyes away from the ripples in the dark water and onto the woman beside him. Eleana, the daughter of the late Lord Vitomir. After the passing of Lord Vitomir, Mariam explained that the man had his daughter pose as a boy to grant her safe passage to Constantinople. And seeing how Gestr eyed her now, he'd been right in doing so. Eleana kept to herself on most days, speaking either with (Y/N) or Mariam, occasionally with the other girls and Harald. But she primarily stuck to (Y/N). He couldn't tell if she merely trusted him more or clung to him since he'd been the first face she'd looked at after losing her father.
"It is... peaceful. But the quiet leaves you alone with your thoughts." (Y/N) said quietly and she nodded, her thumb running back and forth over a line in the wood. She sighed quietly and longingly looked back in the direction they came from. Before (Y/N) could attempt to provide some words of comfort, the boat jerked and shook lightly, a scraping sound coming from underneath them.
"We hit something!" Kaysan hollered and Leif tore himself from his spot beside Mariam, rushing to the front of the boat and peering over the side as Kaysan held the bobbling rudder. 
"The rudder is broken!" Leif called, briefly turning to look at Harald. "Lower the sail!" 
Doing as instructed, Harald and Batu got the sail lowered before watching Leif for any other instructions. Leif and Kaysan held the steering rudder together, directing the boat toward land so they could properly check the damages done. (Y/N) strode across the boat and picked up some rope, waiting for Kaysan to hop down onto the grass and put down wood in the dirt so he could toss the rope and get the boat tied safely. Once done, (Y/N) climbed over the ledge with Harald and Leif, landing on the grass with a soft thud. Leif and Harald stepped into the shallow water, picking up the small pieces of wood floating around. The others gathered around on the boat to watch the men.
"We need a metal band to hold it together," Leif explained, reaching into the cold water and checking the damages underneath the rudder.
"Can you fix it?" Harald asked, tossing the pieces of wood aside. 
"Without a forge, no." 
"There is one in Kodak." Kurya piped up. "It is a day by water, but reachable over the mountain in a few hours." 
"Leif, (Y/N), and I will go then." Harald spoke and helped Leif detach the broken rudder from the boat, carefully setting it on the grass and climbing back onto the bank. 
"Do they have a market? Perhaps we can all go." Eleana proposed as she toyed with the ends of her braid, her eyes occasionally flickering over to (Y/N). 
Shaking his head, Harald wiped his wet hands on his pants and looked back at the blonde. "No. You must watch the boat and be alert. It is dangerous on shore." He told her. Eleana frowned and sighed again, pushing herself off the side of the boat and disappearing out of view for a moment as Batu and Gestr got the platform set up so they could walk on and off the boat with ease. Eleana reappeared with a bow and a quiver full of arrows. She carefully walked down the platform and offered the bow to (Y/N).
"Be careful."
"I will." (Y/N) smiled reassuringly, slipping the bow over his shoulder and placing his hand on her shoulder to squeeze it gently. Harald stared at them with furrowed brows, exchanging a glance with Leif but the older Greenlander merely shrugged and climbed back on the boat to collect his axe.
(Y/N) nodded to Eleana once Harald and Leif were ready before turning around to begin their trek through the forest and over the mountain. Birds chirped and fluttered around, flying into their nests where softer squeaks and chirps could be heard. They'd hear the occasional rustle of an animal moving through the brush and the distant sound of animal calls. Noises that had disappeared during winter due to the cold and scarcity of food. Now, the forest felt lively and full. The wilderness offered much to those who survived its trials and tests. Harald couldn't see that. He knew how to hunt and camp but he belonged in cities and villages. 
The hours went by quicker than expected and they arrived at Kodak, or rather what was left of Kodak. The market that once likely held many things now had nothing but whispers and memories. Things had been burned down, notable by the charred wood and ashes scattered around. Seeing as there was no smoke or the smell of burning wood, (Y/N) could assume whatever group had raided and destroyed the market had done so days prior.
"We should be quick about this. The people who did this may return." 
"(Y/N)'s right." Leif agreed, nodding as he looked over the debris and rubble with a small frown. "We will need to find metal if the forge still remains standing." He told them, walking deeper into the desolate market in search of the forge.
(Y/N) hummed softly in acknowledgment, looking over the remains of the market. It appeared big and housed many merchants. Anything of value had been likely stolen or burned. (Y/N) listened to Harald and Leif rummage through the wood, collecting any metal they could get their hands on. (Y/N)'s interest, however, shifted to the small dock near the market overlooking the shimmering lake. He glanced back at the other two, spotting them by the still intact forge.
With them occupied and working, (Y/N) approached the dock and stepped on it, careful to avoid the areas where the planks were missing. The sound of crackling fire and hammering of metal filled the air, disturbing the peace of the scenery. 
Tilting his head up toward the vibrant blue sky, (Y/N) closed his eyes and whispered a prayer for Freydis. For her and her child. For a safe delivery. And for them to have a safe passage to Constantinople. The sharp cry of a raven flying overhead interrupted his prayer but it only made him grin and peer up at the dark bird. Allfather had acknowledged his prayer. At least the Gods still watched over them. He inhaled the fresh air as twigs and leaves crunched behind him, arms soon slipping around his waist and pulling him against a strong chest. 
"I miss you," Harald whispered, his beard brushing against the back of (Y/N)'s ear. His rough hands found (Y/N)'s, enveloping them and holding them gently. "And I am thankful you have remained by my side through this journey. I understand if you are still upset. I... I know I needed to hear those words. My mother always told me I can be... stubborn."
"That's one word for it." (Y/N) muttered and Harald chuckled, lips pressing against his temple. (Y/N) stared forward at the water. His chest twisted and turned with feelings he couldn't identify. 
"(Y/N), I am aware we can never be like this in front of others but... I still wish to be yours and for you to be mine. When I retrieve my fleet and take the throne, I will have enough riches to prove I am a suitable and capable husband. I can provide your family with as much coin as they desire. They will not have to live out in harsh lands and will have a full belly each night." Harald spoke softly, looking out at the forest across the river. (Y/N)'s brows furrowed slightly and he shook his head, slipping out of Harald's hold and facing him. 
"My family survives well enough. Greenland is our home. The cold, the danger... is part of who we are. We do not care for riches. I do not care for riches. You have done enough to prove yourself capable of caring for a family, Harald. You do not need a fleet or a crown to prove that. You are a warrior and a good hunter. That is enough for anyone. Only nobles would care about how much coin one has. The fact you are not king has nothing to do with your capability. Your arrogance does. Your pride does. It is not your stubbornness that makes you undesirable. You care about riches and power and you cannot accept anything but those things. You need those things. I was happy in the wilderness, even if all we had was a cabin. Yes, I saw how each day you grew more dislike for it but I thought you'd adapt to it. I know now that... you were not made for the type of life I wish to have. And I was not made to be in a court."
Swiping his tongue over his lips, Harald swallowed and stepped forward, taking (Y/N)'s hands into his. "I enjoyed our time at the cabin because you were there. You may find court enjoyable after you see what it is like. Warm food, the finest clothes, a proper bed. You do not know what it is like yet. You have proven you can adapt to changes. I love that about you. I love you." Harald smiled, bringing (Y/N)'s hands to his lips. But when (Y/N) only stared at him with watery eyes, his smile began to crumble.
"I care about you." (Y/N) whispered, voice nearly cracking. Harald's face fell and he shakily exhaled. "I care about you, Harald. I wish to help you and-"
"You do not love me anymore?" 
"Harald-"
I have made mistakes but I am going to fix them. The riches, the power. I can give it all to you. I-I want to support you and help you and care for you. I cannot do that like this. I am nothing right now. But when we arrive at Constantinople, I will be someone. I will give you whatever you ask for, (Y/N). I promise you that. I will earn back your love-"
"You want to buy my love, Harald. All you think about is that throne. All you think about is coin. All you care about is-is..." (Y/N) trailed, ripping his hand from Harald's and scoffing softly as the tears flooded his eyes. Wiping away the tears when they slipped down his cheeks, (Y/N) sniffled and shook his head. "You cannot seem to understand this so I will speak clearly. I did not care for your royal blood when I fought with you or feasted with you or shared your bed. I did not care about how rich you were. I fell in love with you because you were kind and loyal and showed strength. I fell in love with who you were. Your titles and power had nothing to do with it. But I am sure some noblewoman will care about those things and you will be able to buy her affection with whatever riches you obtain." 
"I do not-"
"I promised to help you so I will. But once that is done, I will return home to Greenland, with or without my brother." (Y/N) stated firmly and wiped away the last of his tears. With a weight off his shoulders, he brushed past Harald and walked off the dock, approaching Leif who watched them with a grimace.
Ignoring the quiet questions from his brother, (Y/N) checked the metal they had created and motioned for them to head back. Harald silently joined them a few minutes later and they headed back through the forest and over the mountain. A newfound tension settled with the three and no matter how many times Leif tried to speak with either man, it remained.
But the silence didn't last long when (Y/N) approached the tree line and abruptly stopped, forcing Leif and Harald to nearly topple him over. 
"There are men." (Y/N) whispered, drawing an arrow from his quiver and getting his bow ready. Some of the men had been killed but four remained. One held Mariam with a knife to her throat while the other two restrained Kurya. The last one staggered behind the first man appearing injured. Aiming at the man holding Mariam, he released the arrow when Harald and Leif charged forward. The man collapsed to the ground as Harald took out two men and Leif buried an axe in the back of the last one. (Y/N) quickly joined them, heading up the platform and checking on the disheveled Eleana. She wrapped her arms around him and panted softly, the medallion around her neck pressing against him. 
"I own you! This is my boat and they are my property!" Gestr's voice roared and (Y/N) turned to look at the tied-up man. Brigtoc, Dorn, and Cadlin held him still as he squirmed and yelled. Batu swallowed thickly and lifted his arm, offering his blade to Dorn. She took it and glared back at Gestr, driving the blade into him. Cadlin went next, stabbing his shoulder blade and listening to him cry out in pain. Finally, Brigtoc took the blade and gave the killing blow to his neck. The three girls panted and let him slump over, glaring down at his body. 
"We have to reattach the rudder," Leif breathed, turning away and walking toward the wooden piece laying on the grass. (Y/N) climbed down into the boat, untying the deceased man before nodding for Batu to help. Together, the two tossed Gestr overboard and into the flowing water before doing the same to the other man onboard. Kaysan took care of the men on shore, similarly tossing the bodies into the water. 
"Kaysan, go collect the food they had on their horses." (Y/N) called down to him, watching the fighter nod and jog over to the horses. Eleana climbed down into the boat and stepped forward toward him, glancing over at Kurya. 
"Kurya's the brother of the Khan. There's apparently a bounty on his head." Eleana revealed. Raising her hand, she touched the sun-shaped medallion she had kept hidden underneath her shirt. Moving closer, she leaned in toward his ear. (Y/N)'s gaze flickered to Harald who watched them with a frown. "And I am to be the Emerpeor of Constanipole's new wife."
                    ➸        ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸
They traveled for a while before stopping again at the Dnipro River. The land was rich and Mariam had pointed out the soil was perfect for planting. Without the presence of Gestr, the red-haired girls had become more open and sociable, laughing and smiling more without the fear of being harmed looming over them. Cadlin and Kaysan's relationship had notably blossomed into romance. With everyone occupied at their camp, Harald had asked the Greenland brothers to accompany him to the waterfall they'd have to go down once they got moving again. (Y/N) and Harald acted courteously with each other but the tension remained. 
Nearing the rushing water, (Y/N) could hardly hear his own thoughts over the roar of the waterfall. He stepped closer to the ledge, debating moving further but a hand caught his and held it. Looking back at Harald, the prince shook his head and spoke but his words were drowned out by the sound of the water. (Y/N) tilted his head at him and Harald chuckled in defeat, keeping his fingers around (Y/N)'s wrist and standing beside him. 
"It's a long drop," Harald spoke loudly in an attempt to get his voice to carry over the noise. He laughed again and looked back at the giant waterfall, clearing his throat for a moment before suddenly yelling into the air. (Y/N)'s brows raised at how quiet it sounded compared to the waterfall, an amused smile pulling at his lips. Leif laughed and stood beside them, taking out his disk and holding it up in front of his face to toy with it. Harald watched him before his gaze lifted and he stepped back, accidentally tugging (Y/N) along with him. He paused and turned his head, peering down at their intertwined hands and slowly releasing his hold on him. (Y/N)'s amused smile fell. Harald's lips pressed into a thin forced smile and he motioned for the brothers to follow him a bit further up the mountain. 
(Y/N) saw it in the distance, peeking out between two mountains. Camps across the plains. A thin strip of smoke slipped out from a clearing in the forest, catching (Y/N)'s eye. A rather close camp of Pechenegs. They were far enough for it to take days to reach the boat but they were camped near the river below the waterfall that led to Constantinople. They'd likely have weapons, and if their reputation was true, the crew would be in for a painful time if caught. 
"If we survive the falls, then we have to survive them." Harald sighed heavily, tightly gripping the hilt of his sword with his hand. "We must move on. The faster we get this over with, the sooner we'll be out of their territory." He said and turned, heading back up the river. (Y/N) lingered on the camp for a moment before his gaze drifted downward. Harald was right. It was a long drop from the top of the waterfall. High enough to destroy the boat if they got unlucky. (Y/N) looked away and followed Harald back to the boat.
Once the boat came into view, Harald called out to them, "Pack up! We're moving on."
"You have seen the falls?" Batu asked.
"We have." Harald nodded, waiting as everyone gathered around. "I'm not going to lie to you. It will be a challenge. We will have to prepare ourselves to go down it." 
"When do we leave?" Kaysan asked next, one arm wrapped securely around Cadlin's waist. She leaned against his chest with a big smile, gazing up at him lovingly.
"Tomorrow."
"What? Why so soon?"
"The water level is dropping. If we wait much longer, the boat will not make it over the falls." Kurya explained, turning his head in the direction of their voices. 
"And we would all be trapped here," Harald added. Catching the look Batu and Kaysan exchanged, he continued. "The longer we stay here, the greater the chances the Pechenegs will find us."
"Then we portage. The men said the Pechenegs have moved east." Brigtoc proposed. (Y/N) frowned. Most of the crew appeared comfortable at the river. They'd need to be convinced to leave.
"They lied. There are many camps visible from the falls. We could see fires in the plains further ahead." Leif revealed with a light shake of his head. 
Huffing, Harald placed a hand on his hip. "We've risked enough camping here the last few nights. The sooner we move, the better." Harald told them and walked toward the platform to get on the boat. However, Kaysan stepped in front of him and gave an apologetic look.
"Then, I am not sure we will be joining you." He said, wrapping an arm around Cadlin when she moved closer to him and nodded in agreement. Harald blinked at them, brows furrowing as he glanced back at the brothers. 
"Why not?"
"I am not ready to die," Cadlin answered, resting her head against Kaysan's chest. Harald scoffed in disbelief and stepped back, looking over each of the crew members. 
"You would all rather risk the Pechenegs?"
"They haven't found us yet. And you can't tell us the fall is without risk." Brigtoc responded with a light shrug.
"Nothing is without risk! All we have done for the last two moons has been with risk!" Harald rebutted angrily.
"But before we had no choice! Now we do." Cadlin pointed out.
"I choose to stay." Brigtoc stood up from her spot on the boat. Dorn stood up and moved beside her, signaling her agreement with Brigtoc. Batu bowed his head when Harald looked at him and Harald's shoulders slumped. He turned toward Eleana but she shook her head at him. With no one appearing to be on his side, Harald groaned.
"What is all this? We have known for months this day will come. And now, when it is finally here, you are not willing to meet the challenge? I will not wait here and let the Pechenegs make a flute out of my coward's bones! I'll go by myself if I must." Harald barked, moving onto the platform and making his way onto the boat. 
"You can't," Leif called and walked forward, making Harald look at him. "We need at least six rowers, and we must lessen the weight of the boat by 50 skippund or it will not clear the base of the falls."
"50 skippund?" Harald repeated softly, lightly tapping his foot and looking over the boat. "So we lose the mast."
"The mast weighs about 15 skippund," Leif told him, his eyes flickering onto the stacks of fur but Harald shook his head.
"No, if I lose my furs I have no reason to go on."
"Then you are just like everybody else." Leif shrugged. Harald stared at him, jaw clenching as he inhaled sharply. Storming off the platform, he stalked off into the forest while cursing softly under his breath. (Y/N) stared after him and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and walking through the grass, following the imprints Harald left. 
"(Y/N)?"
"I'll be back." (Y/N) called back to Eleana and continued into the forest, tracking Harald down to a boulder. The prince sat on it, holding his head in his hands. He didn't move when (Y/N) got closer, only sighing quietly when (Y/N) sat down beside him. They stayed quiet and listened to the sounds of the forest until Harald lifted his head and leaned back. 
"Everything has gone wrong... I've lost you and now everyone else has abandoned me." Harald whispered, looking down at the dirt and pushing it around with his foot. "Have you come to lecture me more? Tell me how useless this sulking is?"
"I only tell you the truth, Harald. And the truth is that you cannot expect them to follow you when you refuse to sacrifice something of yours first. Those people may lose their lives going down that waterfall. They're afraid... and they're afraid because they do not trust you. You have not given them a reason to. Cadlin, Dorn, and Brigtoc are experiencing freedom for the first time in a long time. Mariam is dying. Kurya risks being captured and put in front of his murderous brother. Batu and Kaysan are happy because they're surrounded by friends. Eleana... Eleana is the key to Constantinople because she was promised to the emperor." His words made Harald look at him and (Y/N) sighed softly, delicately placing a hand on Harald's cheek. "You are better than this Harald. You are a man of many talents. You will find a way to make money in Constantinople without those furs. It will just take a long time." 
"How do you know?"
"Because you are an intelligent and strong man. And you know I'm right about everything. About us, about them. You mustn't live in denial anymore, Harald. I wanted us to be happy on this trip and in Constantinople. I wanted us to have good memories of each other that we could think about after we part ways. I was never meant to be in court, Harald. I see it in your eyes that you know this is true. You do not want to accept it but you must. Making hard decisions will be part of being King of Norway. This pain will make you stronger." (Y/N) told him softly, using his thumb to stroke Harald's cheek. Rising to his feet, (Y/N) cupped Harald's face and kissed his forehead. "They are not abandoning you. They are trying to make you see their side of things."
With that, he left Harald with his thoughts and returned out to the clearing by the river. Eleana rose from his seat with a bowl of berries in hand, offering him some and glancing back at the forest. (Y/N) quietly thanked her, taking some berries and popping them into his mouth. "Will Harald agree to get rid of the furs?" Eleana asked with a tilt of her head. 
"I'm not su-" Looking back at the forest, Harald reemerged with a concentrated look on his face. Everyone turned to watch him get on the boat and approach his stack of furs. Picking one up, he tossed it overboard and looked back at the others, gaze lingering on (Y/N).
"I cannot guarantee anyone's survival. What is over the falls, I do not know. I can only guarantee my best efforts to keep us alive. And I cannot do that if we remain here." He said and looked back at his furs, continuing to toss them in the river one by one. Leif approached him first to help then Cadlin then Brigtoc and then everyone else. They took the furs and tossed them into the water.
By the end, Harald appeared pleased with himself, smiling widely as everyone worked together to get the mast off and into the water. They packed the tents and other belongings that were on the shore into the boat and turned to Harald and Leif with newfound determination. 
Getting seated, they tied ropes to their oars in hopes it would keep the oars from drifting downstream when the boat went over the falls. Leif wrapped Mariam in a coat and kissed her before taking his place at the back with the rudder. Harald got the boat moving and instructed everyone to row. (Y/N) and Eleana remained with Harald at the front, looking for any large rocks in the water and checking for when the waterfall grew closer. The river began pushing the boat harder and the waterfall came into view, sending a wave of anxiety into (Y/N). He felt rang a finger over his necklace and took in a deep breath.
Once the boat entered the rapids, he ducked down with Eleana and Harald, pressing his back against the boat and holding onto whatever he could. Leif called for the oars to be pulled in and everyone ducked down, holding on for dear life. (Y/N) squeezed his eyes shut, hearing the roar of the waterfall grow closer and closer. Eleana wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest fearfully. When the boat went over the fall, screams followed. Water lashed at (Y/N)'s face and body, the force and air lifting him.
And then he felt himself being flung from the boat.
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rigormortisriot · 1 year
Text
 (please note that I have no beta reader, and have no intention of fixing any issues/mistakes. this was written between moments of quiet at work, so its not the best but i didnt intend it to be. enjoy :) ))
Fandoms: God of War Ragnarok
Rating: General Audience 
Warnings: No Warnings Apply
Categories: M/F
Characters: Atreus Kratosson-Laufeyson, Angrboda, Fenrir
Relationships: Atreus/Angrboda
Additional Tags: these two are dorks, young love, both of these idiots are touch-starved and you can’t tell me otherwise, fluff, Fenrir is just there to be a giant pillow :) 
 When Atreus had popped back into Ironwood unannounced, Angrboda hadn’t been expecting it to be so he could take her on a journey to show her something in Midgard.   
 The red-haired teen was unpredictable on the best of days, sure, but this took the cake. He checked in sometimes, showing up in Wildwoods, Freya’s house, or Ironwood interchangeably and with very little warning. Only for a few hours, but still. To have him visit to take her to another realm? That was new.
 Fenrir had yipped happily, bouncing back and forth on his paws like a pup. It took a decent amount of time full of pets and playing fetch to wear him down enough to make a tear between realms, most of that time was spent with Atreus being lovingly squashed under the hulking form of his own wolf. 
 While the realm travel was quick, the boat ride was not. Angrboda skimmed her fingertips over the lake’s surface, soaking in the differences between this water’s coloring compared to Ironwood’s. The light of the sun made the untouched portion of water glimmer iridescently like a geode full of quartz.
 Unsurprisingly, the hike up the side of the mountainside was just as gorgeous. The trees were covered with leave again, the thick canopy of green letting speckled beams of light through. Angrboda lifted her palms upward to splay the warmth upon them, and Atreus took small glances from the corner of his eyes to watch the gleam of golden metal looped in her hair. Gold was everywhere around them and it was simply beautiful. 
 “Hold on, I’ll climb up and help you.” Atreus called behind him, already beginning to scale the short way up the rock face they had reached, fingers digging into the crevices in the surface.
 With a grunt, the boy heaved himself over the side. He turned back to his friend, who simply crooked an eyebrow at him. Bending over, he reached his hand out to the other teen. Angrboda took it gratefully, a smile blossoming across her face.
 It only took a single tug from the godling and a minor jump from the giantess to clear the wall. Laughter rang through the air as the two rebalanced themselves, hands still laced together.
 Atreus was the first to notice, eyes flickering between their connected hands and Angrboda, watching as she reached with her free hand to push a stray braid out of her face.
 Her motions froze when she glanced at their hands, the other warm against hers. They released each other quickly, faint pink shades painting their faces equally.
 Angrboda was the first to break the awkward silence, letting a small laugh out, Atreus following soon after. Like a spell being broken, the tension faded as quickly as it had formed. The two giants jumped from cropped rocks, throwing branches off the cliff for Fen to chase, and debating who would win the leg race this time around ( ‘You don’t have your magic steed this time!’). 
 Finally, Atreus planted his foot on the very edge of the cliff’s ledge and pointed out toward the lake.
 “This is what I thought you should see,” the boy proclaimed proudly, eyes shining with anticipation and joy, “I found this view on one of my last trips back here.”
 “It’s beautiful...,” Angrboda easily admitted, voice laced with awe.
  It was indeed beautiful. The lake shimmered like the finest glass, the gentle waves lapping at the shores. The trees filled the landscape with thick layers of varying shades of green. The towers stood tall, strong columns of gray and golds against the bright blue of the water. Tyr’s temple was a shining gold beacon in the center, as intricate and pretty as the lake itself. 
 Jormungandr stood out the most though, his large body laid just right to appear like a mountain range against the clear sky. His scales caught the sun’s rays perfectly, causing them to shine as iridescently as the lake itself. It was breathtaking and Angrboda could already feel herself reaching into her satchel for her brushes. 
  With a canvas in hand, Angrboda plopped herself down on the ledge, legs dangling off the edge. She patted the spot next to her, eyes roaming the blank sheet as she plotted the course of her paints. 
  Atreus stared for a moment longer before dropping down onto his rear as roughly as his friend had, careful to not bump her.
Their thighs were touching, heat radiating where they touched. Atreus could feel his face flush, ear burning as he was sure his entire body had sent all its blood to his head. The rush made him dizzy, but he couldn’t help the smile that curled his lips.
 Angrboda was leaning against his shoulder now, eyes squinted and nose scrunched up in concentration as she moved her paintbrush across the page, bright yellow spreading widely. Atreus had a feeling yellow was her favorite color. 
  He wasn’t sure if he should put his hand around her or simply leave her be. What qualified as appropriate in this situation? Would she stop leaning on him if he touched her back? He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.
  A million thoughts buzzed in his head, making the dizziness worse. Without realizing it, he had set his head atop hers, leaned to the side so his cheek rested against her hair, eyes closed against the bright sun.
  The young giantess stilled for a moment, a blush of her own coloring her skin before she returned to her work. One strand of her braids fell foward, partly blocking her view but she didn’t move to adjust it back into place, instead letting it gently hang down. It was fine where it was and so was she.
  By the time Angrboda finished, the sun had moved far to the west but hadn’t set yet. There was still plenty of light left, shimmering over the Lake of Nine and warming the two teens in its glow. 
  Leaning a little further into Atreus’s side, Angrboda ran her finger over the faded material of his sash, eyes and finger tracing the yellow trails along the dulled red. Her eyes struggled to stay open, the warmth and comfort of both the sun and another person beside her a bizarre mix of nostalgic and foreign. 
 The battle was lost before it had even begun, both teens’ breathing evening out as sleep overcame them, perhaps one more swiftly than the other.
---
  Atreus startled awake when he felt a large form settle around him, relaxing at the sight of the spotted fur of Fenrir while laid to curl around him and Angrboda. Said giantess only opened one eye to peek at what had spooked her glorified body pillow, tiredness blurring her vision. 
  With a contented sigh, the young girl closed her eye again and shifted further into Atreus’s tunic. Embarrassment could be dealt with tomorrow, right now she was too comfortable to care.
  The young boy couldn’t quite say the same, he was certain his entire face was as bright red as the fruits in his mother’s garden. The heat returned with a vengeance, his head dizzy and stomach clenching but....it wasn’t bad. There was a giddiness there too, youthful awe and wonder at the causal closeness between them. 
  The godling leaned his head back against Fen’s shoulder, patting it gently with his hand. The wolf whined softly, wiggling his massive muzzle under his owner’s arm. The boy in turn let out a quiet laugh, half hum and half chuckle. 
  Scratching up and down Fen’s snout, Atreus could feel himself drifting back to sleep. His eyes felt heavy, and his fingers slowed, though Fenrir didn’t seem to mind as he too was wavering in his wakefulness. 
  Cautiously, as though to not break the peace between them, Atreus lowered his other arm to wrap around Angrboda, pushing their heads together as they both relaxed and allowed slumber to claim them. 
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the-little-ewok · 2 years
Note
Hi there!
I would like to request these headcanons with our beloved Moon Boys, if that's alright:
🌟 or ☁️
It's always such a delight to read and reread your stories, thank you so much for sharing them with us! 💗💗💗
Aw thank you! It always blows my mind when people say they have re-read things I've written!
(also I owe you a prompt, I'm not ignoring it... It may just take a couple of weeks to get written... But I will write it! (I started it already))
🌟 - A secret wish headcannon
Steven - Honestly, Steven wishes he could time travel. That one time he helped turn back the night sky really got the idea into his head that if it was possible... He could totally go and spend a few weeks... Maybe months...probably years... Studying ancient Egypt at the time it was happening. He likes to daydream about you both on a little boat on the Nile, you lounging back on soft cushions taking in the scenery, while he furiously scribbles notes on everything you've seen so far, everything the history books got wrong. It's probably his favourite daydream but it's not possible... Is it?
Marc - Marc secretly wishes he could move you out of the city to somewhere in the countryside. To leave all the gods and vigilantes and crime and just be somewhere quiet with you. He dreams of having a little house, a garden full of wild flowers, a map of places you can visit on adventures, coloured pins marking those you've done and those yet to come. He wishes nothing more than a safe and happy life for you, hopefully with him by your side.
Jake - Jake secretly wishes he'd met you first. Because he's sure if he did you would love him more than the other two boys and he would absolutely be your favourite, even though your continually telling them all you don't have favourites. Jake still thinks it would be him.
☁️- A soft headcannon
Steven - Steven watches you sleep. No, not in a creepy way...he just genuinely loves the way you're so relaxed, curled up in his arms, your head on his chest. He'll lean down and press a little kiss to your hair, freezing when you stir. He won't move again until he's sure you've fully fallen asleep again. He'll gently stroke your hair and watch you for a long time, thinking how lucky he is to have you and how he doesn't think he could be happier than right in this moment.
Marc - When you buy a box of sweets for you both, Marc always leaves the best ones for you. He never says anything about it, but he's kept track of the ones you prefer, and he always make sure to leave those. He insists that he just doesn't like the same ones as you, but he does, they are his favourite too, but he'd rather let you have them and take in the look of pure enjoyment on your face while you eat.
Jake - Jake sings a lot. You imagine because he spends a lot of his time in the car singing to the radio and it sort of bleeds over into your day to day life. He's singing while he cooks or fixes things in your appartment. Well that is when he thinks you arn't listening, but the moment he notices he stops. He only starts singing again when you tell him how much you were enjoying his voice.
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satellitevenusnine · 2 months
Text
The Leaders of the Village
PG, PG-13 max. Paya x Tauro, pt II. i have a lot more written, i just need to get some of it up before the whole thing became too unwieldy. cultural notes are at the end this time. word count: 10,703
ao3 link if you'd prefer to read it there.
***
They didn’t join every night, but quite often.
Tauro made generous portions of hearty meals at midday and handed them out to whomever was at the Zonai Survey lab. Cottla agreed to run them over to Paya if the Chief’s duties meant that she couldn’t eat with him.
Paya gradually had much more energy at the end of the day. She slept more deeply and peacefully than ever.
Tauro’s first expedition away from Kakariko village after their involvement began saw him pouring out his feelings for Paya in a notebook to bring home to her, kept separate from his research notebook, of course. He wasn’t especially given to verse, but he wrote about seeing her gracefulness and humility in the way the Hylian rice bowed under the weight of its grain, caressed by the breeze. He told her about what he saw on the road each day, questions he wished he could ask her, evidence he wanted her insight into.
Paya had so many memories with him and of him in the village, she felt his warmth near her always as she moved throughout her day.
Cottla was a good cook, but she was trying to stuff Paya to the gills in Tauro’s absence. Therefore, Paya did her best to promote movement in her own digestion by walking, scaling the scaffoldings, and providing hospitality to the research teams around the ruins in person.
Her heart felt lighter, bigger, and it buoyed her steps. Her friends and relatives responded joyfully to their Chief in kind, tucking flowers behind her ears as she passed them on the village paths, hands touching hands, slipping fruits and wild-growing treats into the folds of her garments against her insistence that she was well-fed already.
When Tauro returned, he moved his things from the lab to Paya’s loft. It rained on the village that night.
He took her home to Lurelin and showed her the restoration work that had been done. Tauro hadn’t felt the need to wander back in a while but Paya had never seen the ocean and he could hear the siren call of the sea. He taught Paya to sail by the wind and to catch crabs and ocean fish, and they traded them for meals at the restaurant. She tried fish roe for the first time and her big eyes looked at him with such bliss that Tauro bought an entire pot packed with salted roe to bring back to Kakariko.
The children told Paya about being displaced by pirates and she listened with quiet attention. She asked the boys take her around the village and show her what they remembered, other villagers sharing where they had hidden or which path they had taken fleeing with their families. Then Paya and the children prayed before Hylia together.
Paya wore Lurelin wraps for the first time and subsequently spent three days solid speaking to the weavers about how they were made, the history of the materials, and what the motifs meant.
Rozel presented Paya with one of their recovered boats, chief to chief, and she and Tauro got to work fixing it up. Paya worked with weavers like Ralera to learn to make a sailcloth and cushions. Tauro took her foraging in Faron Woods for dye materials. She asked Kinov and Zuta, the little boys, to help her create a design that could represent both their villages. They traced many iterations on the sand before choosing a Sheikah eye encircled by a ring of waves. Tauro sat nearby making nets, floats, and line while Paya and the children painted the boat and got the sailcloth attached.
Rola and Cado came to vacation in Lurelin from Kakariko and they were happy to donate a ring garland they were carrying as the finishing touch.
With shining eyes, Paya placed the garland on the prow of the boat and secured it there carefully with cordage she made.
She and Tauro took the boat out into the bay to spend the night anchored on the waters. The rocking of the boat became part of the rhythm of their joining that night. Their sighs and exaltations blended with the calling of the sea birds. The salt of their bodies blended with the ocean spray. The waters that bore Tauro welcomed Paya as surely as her valley in Kakariko had welcomed him.
She dreamed of diving through the air in a place of golden light, surrounded by clouds. Brilliant yellow trees sang to her from floating islands. A sparkle nearby. A flash of trailing light. Paya reached out her arms and gathered a tumbling star to her heart. She felt a familiar embrace from behind, steadying arms cradling her catch as well. Weightless, they floated above the clouds. Black buds in the trees burst into radiant yellow flowers that caught the starlight with gilded petals. Her silver hair floated around her and her lover. Facing each each other, Tauro cupped his hands around the fallen star and brought it to Paya’s lips. She drank the light in a flowing stream until she was filled and then it spilled down the front of her body. The light within blinded her to the world, timeless, weightless, she could only perceive the prismatic shifting blaze of many colors and sacred harmonies for countless measures. Then, the light solidified in places. She saw Tauro, but he had his back to her. He was sat carving something, something that took up his whole lap.
Paya awoke to the sounds of gulls.
She could still feel the light in her body.
Tauro was curled up around her, holding her close in his sleep. Paya lay listening to the lapping of waves against the boat for some time, letting herself recall the details of her dream as many times as it would take to memorize them. She wanted to take this dream to her grandmother to confirm her suspicions.
Tauro stirred when their shared body heat began to get uncomfortable in the increasing warmth of the day. He unstuck himself, stretched his limbs, gave Paya a squeeze, then sat up and dunked his head over the side of the boat.
She laughed when he shook his hair, spraying water everywhere. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” Paya said lovingly as he vigorously rubbed his face. When he kissed her in greeting, she tasted salt and his flesh was chilled.
“Mmmmmph,” Tauro resettled himself next to her onto their narrow sleeping platform. “Good morning, starshine.”
He felt her startled reaction and came awake fully for the first time. “You ok, Beloved?”
“I - I had a dream last night!” Paya exclaimed. “I will tell you all about it, but why did you name me ‘starshine’ just now?”
“I dunno, you’ve picked up a tan while you’ve been here. It makes your hair stand out like star light or something. What did you dream, Beloved?”
She recounted it for him.
“I - I think,” she said haltingly, “I think we were in the Sacred Realm.”
“…Paya?” Tauro’s hushed voice contained no small measure of awe. “Paya, I’ve been carving a cradle while we’ve been here.”
“Lurelin is the only place where you can get this oily, buoyant wood. I think its propagation has become entwined with village life as we’ve used it over time.” He explained. “I didn’t know when we’d be here next. I haven’t forgotten what you said about our joining maybe starting new life.”
Paya lay pensively staring at the sky for a moment. She twined her fingers around Tauro’s when he reached for her hand. “It feels like I am still dreaming,” she murmured. “But I believe life may be growing.”
She met his eyes through his wet curls. “You have been carving a cradle?” She smiled so sweetly Tauro felt it like a physical touch.
“Beloved, I…” tears filled his eyes and he fell quiet. She opened her arms to him and he covered her with kisses until she was breathless. “I think you have your own light,” he said finally, voice full of emotion, “and I want to be near it always. The cradle was supposed to be my promise that I’m giving all of myself to a future that we build together. Vows before Hylia or no vows, babies or no babies, I want to see you and Kakariko thrive. But if there are babies, I wanted to be prepared.”
Paya melted. She couldn’t help it. It was her turn to cover him with kisses. “Yes, I want you by my side,” she sighed. “Tauro, will you put your roots down beside mine?”
“Yes, Beloved. I think we’re cultivating something beautiful.”
Paya agreed. They got along very agreeably until the early afternoon.
“The cradle is meant to float on water,” Tauro explained in their tent back on shore. “Carissa was hanging on to it for me so you didn’t discover it accidentally. You could tie it alongside a boat or anchor it with a line on the beach since the bay is more protected. Then the ocean rocks the cradle for you.”
Paya ran her hands over the tight grain of the wood. It warmed to her touch.
“I figured in Kakariko, we could set the cradle near the Hylia statue and let the mill races do the rocking.”
She closed her eyes and pictured it, smiling when she thought of her village flocking to the cradle under Hylia’s watchful gaze.
When she looked at Tauro again, tears began to flow. “I hope we get the chance to use it, Tauro. Thank you.”
He held her as she shed a few happy tears, sharing a few of his own.
“Me, too, Beloved. I’ll be here regardless. I know not every pregnancy bears fruit, and there’s danger ahead for the foreseeable future, but we’re facing it together.”
In the loft at the Kakariko village hall, Impa listened to Paya’s dream, poked and prodded her body some, took her pulses, asked a few very personal questions, and declared her to be in the childbearing year.
“If you’re not bearing life now, you will be soon,” Impa said matter-of-factly. “I had a dream before each of my children started quickening. Your mother had a dream before she found out she was carrying you.”
“She did??” Paya asked. “Do you remember what she dreamt?”
Impa looked toward the ceiling as she tried to recall. “I believe she was eating a papaya and spit out a seed that grew into a baby.”
“Oh! She didn’t visit the sacred realm?” Paya asked.
“No, and neither did I in my dreams.” Impa replied. “But neither of us were pregnant when the Age of the Demon King was returning. I believe the veil is thinner now, destinies are more weighty. More Honored Ancestors may be choosing to come back to Hyrule now. They know better than us what the future holds.”
Paya blinked, slightly in shock. “May I call Tauro in, Grandmother? I feel like he needs to be part of this conversation.”
“Good idea. We should start planning your vow ceremony as well.” Impa said in her gravelly voice. “Some of your duties will have to be modified or delegated while your body and your vitality are changing. You’ll have to name a successor in case you pass from the birthing.”
“Grandmother, tha-that is too much to think about all at once. Please, I need to get Tauro.”
Making a noise of acquiescence, Impa waved off Paya’s protests and gestured toward the staircase that would take her down into the main hall.
Tauro was transcribing some notes from his research notebook to be distributed to the various team leads when he heard Paya descending from the loft.
“Paya?”
Dorian the bodyguard cleared his throat from a corner near the door.
“Lady Paya?” Tauro corrected himself. “Do you need me?”
“Yes, Mr. Tauro, would you come with me to the loft, please?” She bowed with her hands clasped over her heart, sort of out of habit. Tauro could see her mind was occupied.
When they were in the stairway, Tauro snuck an arm around Paya’s waist.
“Beloved, are you here right now?”
The question seemed to ground her some. She steeled herself, looked him in the face and smiled, “I am with you. If everything goes well, you and I will have a — a baby.”
“Tauro, we are going to be parents.”
His smile was radiant. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He tossed his hair back, cradled the back of her head with one hand, kissed the center of Paya’s Eye tattoo, and pressed his forehead to hers. She held his gaze, eyes shining, and drew his exhaled breath into her Hara.
He kissed her and she answered with a passion too big for the tiny stairway they occupied.
Impa cleared her throat from the zabuton cushion on the floor of the loft.
Paya and Tauro ascended the rest of the stairs and sat down on the edge of her bed together. He was dabbing his eyes and she was beaming at him.
“I can see the connection between you is robust,” Impa said. “Good. Paya needs to keep her heart channel clear in order to nourish the life coming through. She told you about the vow ceremony?”
“Uh, she told me there would be one if life came from our joining,” Tauro said, “I’ve known that from the beginning. We haven’t discussed details.”
“Hylia will hear your vows to serve creation.” Impa began, “You have participated in perpetuating a lineage that has been recorded since the days of Hyrule’s founding. In order to fulfill the requirements of the ceremony, each of you will undergo ritual purification and spend time in meditation with your ancestors and the unborn generations to come. Tauro, do you have anyone from your village who can guide you in this?”
He nodded. “Our chief should be able to, or he’ll know who to ask.”
“Mmm,” she acknowledged. “You have the option at any point to refuse to continue. The purpose of the purification is to arrive before Hylia in a state of truth. You must have no room for doubt. The vows must be made while your energies are aligned as one, with one vision.”
Paya rubbed circles on Tauro’s back as he sat in quiet focus.
Impa continued, “The vows themselves are simple enough. You pledge to honor and uplift the parts of yourselves that are coming forward in the next generation. You toast each other with good rice wine and petition the village to accept your vows. The strength of their voices will carry your vows to the Goddess.”
“The dances, too. Right, Grandmother?” Paya added.
“Mm. Dances carry the energy in joy and exultation to grant the both of you happy lives, but the acceptance of the people is what seals the ritual. Particularly for us, Paya, as servants of this village.”
Paya bowed her head.
Impa raised her chin. “Given the events that are happening across Hyrule, I will invite a select few individuals from each tribe as our honored guests. A blessing shared multiplies and we all need reasons to celebrate now.”
Tauro spoke up, “I can ask the Zonai survey team if anyone would be willing to carry messages in the course of their fieldwork.”
Paya nodded, “Any members of the research team are welcome to join the festivities as well.”
Tauro sat up straight and heaved a big sigh. “I’m a little out of my depth here. But I’m excited!”
Paya caressed his face. “Deep breaths, remember?”
He gave her a heart-melting smile and nodded. “We got this. All of it. And I’m glad we get to mark this milestone with something meaningful.”
Paya was astounded to find that making the ceremonial arrangements felt much much lighter on her back than her duties as chieftain. Instead of thinking purely in terms of survival or propriety, she was free to be inspired. She felt sure in her decisions. She was drawn ever more deeply into the lives of her people as she went to them seeking their contributions and their company. Three generations of Sheikah gatherers roamed the hillsides with her to collect ingredients and decorations. They exchanged stories, sang songs, spun histories, and told jokes over the hours spent reaping the abundance surrounding the village. Cori the Survey Team member finally had success in growing a whole crop of Sundelions and Koko was given a few to weave into a crown for Paya. Lasli came home at Claree’s behest bearing fabrics from the Hateno dyer’s. The afternoon Paya spent at Enchanted draping fabrics for her ceremonial robes became a precious memory of laughing and dreaming with the sisters.
She was in the forest looking for hearty truffles with Mellie, Trissa, and Nanna when the guardsman Cado came running up to her.
“Lady Impa requires your presence, Lady Paya,” he gasped, “there has been news of Master Link and the Yiga Clan.”
Paya tipped her basket over as she launched herself toward the path to the village.
Tauro had also been summoned to the main room of the village hall. Impa sat in state on the dais.
Impa acknowledge their presence with a nod. Wasting no time, she said, “I have just received word from my sister Purah that Link has defeated the pretender Kohga in the Depths and learned the location of the Demon King. We do not know when he and the Sages will move against Ganondorf. He has yet to find the sword that seals the darkness, so it may be some time. But the Yiga Clan is without a leader. They still present a danger to travelers, but we may yet be free of them.”
Paya was still catching her breath and she reeled a little at the news. Tauro went to her and let her steady herself with their joined hands. “You ok, Beloved?” He asked. She reached for him and he wrapped his arms around her.
She began to cry with mixed emotions. “Oh, Tauro!” She sobbed, “The Yiga have caused so much pain here. I should be glad they were thwarted but I tremble at the thought of Master Link facing the embodiment of evil!”
He just nodded and stroked her hair.
“Be steady, child,” Impa warned. “Don’t let your strength waver now.”
Paya couldn’t help herself and she cried even harder.
Tauro rocked her a bit. “Lady Impa,” he said, “May we be excused?”
Impa sighed and nodded.
Tauro led Paya up the stairs to their little loft. They sat side by side on the bed while she bawled on his shoulder. He made soothing noises, stroking her hair gently and kissing her head. “I’ve got you. We can do this,” he said over and over.
When her crying began to lose force, she drew away some. “Aiee, my chest is tender,” Paya grimaced. She wasn’t meeting his eyes when she reached for his hands. “Thank you, Tauro,” she said.
“Oh, Paya…” the tone in his voice made her look him in the face.
“I still believe in Link.” He told her, “But I wish we could make our family together in a world where there was no cause for you to cry like this.”
Her face crumpled again as the tears flowed, silently this time.
“The Yiga broke into this hall once,” she admitted quietly. Tauro’s grip on her hands tightened. “They had stolen an artifact I was supposed to keep safe for the Hero. Dorian had told them the location of the artifact in order to spare my Grandmother and I from their wrath.”
Tauro hissed as he sucked in air through his teeth.
“Beloved… that’s terrifying.”
Her expression was pained as she closed her eyes. Then she sighed a big sigh and her face shifted as she seemed to resolve something. “Yes. It was.” Paya agreed, eyes snapping open, “But I am stronger now. I am Chief. I bear new life. Kohga’s defeat means that I have outlasted his destructive agenda against our people. You and I can make our vows without the threat of him hanging over our lives.”
His respect and admiration for her caused Tauro to practically glow. “That’s right, Beloved.” He said proudly. He tucked some of her disheveled hair back behind one ear. “Your family and this village have kept going through it all.”
Paya snuggled into him for a side hug and they just breathed deeply together.
“You ok, Paya?”
“I am well, Tauro. Thank you. I love you.”
Paya had her first bout of morning sickness about a week later. Tauro and Dorian became couriers while she conducted ceremonial arrangements and village business from her bed in between naps. Impa taught Cottla to make acorn cakes for Paya’s breakfast and Mellie delivered ceramic jugs of umeboshi and plum vinegar to the village hall. Rola made Paya a snack food of deep fried lotus seeds and endura carrots that she said was traditional for morning sickness in Lurelin. Paya ate small, frequent meals just to have something in her stomach and drank more herbal teas than she ever had in her life, but she was able to keep her food down. The Zora delegation from the Domain arrived when she was taking one of her many trips to the privy following her morning brews.
“Excuse me for not being present when you arrived, Queen Yona,” Paya bowed deeply when she got back to the village hall. “Please be welcome.”
Yona and her two ladies in waiting curtsied. “Lady Paya, it is delightful to meet you, especially under such wonderful circumstances. Please, do not trouble yourself with formalities overmuch. I was recently a new bride myself and I am so grateful to be able to share in the joy of your own ceremonies.”
Paya blushed, beaming. “Yes! Many blessings to you and King Sidon!”
Yona clasped Paya’s hands in hers and smiled from eye to eye. “May the waters we share flowing through our lands, flowing through our veins, bless our unions and unite our people.”
Paya bowed her head, the iron eye charms on her kasa clinking. “May it always be so, Lady Yona. Thank you so much for coming to Kakariko.”
Teba and Saki flew in that afternoon. Rozel and his son Numar came in from Lurelin before the sun set. The first feast was laid out in front of the village hall and Paya was almost too tired to put in an appearance. She leaned on Tauro long enough to call everyone to the meal and Impa oversaw the festivities after that.
“Do you want me to come with you while you rest, Lady Paya?” Tauro asked.
“No, Tauro,” she said. “Please enjoy the celebrations and get to know our guests.”
Paya gave him a kiss on the cheek and whispered, “Come find me when the evening winds down.”
He smiled lovingly and said, “I’ll be there with leftovers.”
She laughed, energy flagging but still with some warmth.
Impa patted her hand as Paya made her exit and told her to put on thicker socks before she went to bed. “Don’t let the Kidney points in your ankles get cold,” she directed.
Paya felt a bit like someone had cast a spell on her that increased the effects of gravity as she climbed the staircase to the village hall. She took her time to take each step carefully. As familiar as her home was to her, she could feel some clumsiness setting in from fatigue. Her stomach began to rumble ominously when she finally got under her futon quilt and she felt a tear slip out as she thought about trying to get up and brave the party or wait for Tauro and risk nausea setting in. She was startled out of her overwhelm when the door to the hall banged open a floor below her and she heard footsteps in the stairway.
“Lady Paya!” Cottla’s piping voice shouted. “Are you still awake?!”
Before she could even answer, the little girl entered the room bearing a plate of food. “Mr. Tauro said you didn’t get anything before you left!” Cottla said in a slightly accusing tone.
“Bless you, Cottla!” Paya said with great relief, sitting up in bed. “Come sit with me while I eat, if you please. Oh! Unless you want to get back to the party?”
Cattle’s mouth twisted up into a pout. “Daddy says I have to go to bed after you eat.”
Paya smiled, “All the more reason for you to keep me company. Would you like to sit in bed next to me or pull up a seat?”
Cottla gave Paya the plate and clambered up onto the futon next to the Chief. Paya gave her a morsel of something gooey, saying, “Lasli brought this back from Hateno. They call it ‘cheese’ and it’s made with cow’s milk. What do you think?”
The girl’s eyes went wide. “MMMMM!”
“I like it, too. It is especially good roasted like this. Do you want to try some with an apple slice?”
“MM-HMM.”
“How about with these poached tomatoes?”
Paya took nibbles of everything and fed Cottla from her plate while asking her what she thought of their guests.
“It’s fun to have more Lurelin people around! Rola is laughing a lot. I like that.” She paused to contemplate for a bit. “I always thought the grownups in the village were big but the Rito and Zora are even bigger! How come Tauro is the only Hylian near their size?”
“Mmm.” Paya covered her mouth until she was done chewing. “All the people of Hyrule can come in all shapes and sizes. The previous Zora king, King Dorephan, would not be able to fit in the village hall according to Master Link.”
Cottla was stunned. “Wow! How come HE didn’t come?! I wanna see.”
Laughing, Paya squeezed her in a side hug. “You will have to travel to him someday, little one. We may be smaller, but we also walk a lot more quickly than someone of his noble bearing.”
“Link told me about the Skyview Towers! I wanna get shot into the sky and glide to Zora’s Domain!” Cottla spread her arms and mimed zooming across the sky.
Paya shook her head slightly at the thought, putting the empty plate to the side. “You are much more adventurous than I am, Cottla.”
“I dunno. I don’t think I wanna carry a baby in my belly. Isn’t that gonna hurt coming out?”
“I don’t have any experience, but yes, it is supposed to be very painful.”
Cottla was looking at Paya like she was crazy.
“You don’t ever have to carry a baby if you don’t want to!” Paya reassured her, “but for myself, I have been able to find paths to prayer through pain. Like when I received my Eye tattoo. It did not feel like when you meet with an accident. You are able to prepare. There is a rhythm. And I felt connected to all my ancestors who had also undergone that rite of passage. Giving birth is supposed to be kind of like that.”
Cottla still look suspicious but her curiosity was piqued. “I’ll ask you about it again after the baby comes out.” She said.
Paya laughed. “I will have more to tell you then. I guess I will let you decide how adventurous I really am.”
Nodding in agreement, little girl picked up the empty plate, bid Paya goodnight, and trundled down the stairs to her own bed in her own house.
Paya sat up listening happily to the merriment in the village round while she digested. She gave a little prayer of gratitude for the blessing in disguise of being sick enough to take frequent breaks from socializing. She could get used to new people at a more leisurely pace. Her natural shyness was less at odds with her responsibilities as Chief than when she had started, but Paya was too worn out by the physical demands of pregnancy to be outgoing. She fell asleep still sitting up and when Tauro woke her up in the middle of the night with a kiss on the forehead, she had a crick in her neck from her head falling forward unsupported.
“Beloved, I’ve got some more food and your evening tea if you need it.”
Paya stretched her legs under the futon quilt and rubbed her neck.
“Mmmmmmm.” She roused slowly. “Thank you for this. And for the plate earlier. My stomach only started warning me of trouble once I was tucked in bed.”
“Cottla is always happy to look after her chief,” Tauro smiled indulgently. “Paya, I know this is a lot. How are you holding up?”
“It’s challenging, to be sure,” she said, “but I have found some enjoyment in overcoming challenges lately.”
“You really have, Beloved.” Tauro stroked her face. “I knew you were special when I first got to Kakariko, but just in the time I’ve known you, you’ve really bloomed.”
Paya blushed and leaned into his touch. “I can only reach for the Sun because you have been there to support me.”
She parted her lips as he leaned in for a kiss and her stomach gurgled loudly.
“Oh! Excuse me!”
Tauro laughed and kissed her cheek instead. “Here, scooch up a bit.”
Paya held her plate and scooted toward the foot of the bed while Tauro got in behind her. He nestled her in between his legs and began to rub her neck and shoulders.
“ooooooohhh,” Paya sighed. “How do you know better than I do what I need sometimes?”
“I’m trained to observe and put together patterns. I’m not keeping an eye on you like Dorian is supposed to but I notice when your energy feels off.”
“You do not get tired of looking after me?”
“It’s not a chore, Paya. I love being around you, and I especially love being around you when you’re feeling your best.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder as he worked on the crick that had developed.
“Tauro, I — I have never experienced the kind of love you are capable of,” Paya tried to explain. “I did not know that I was worth the effort.”
He turned her face toward his. “The ‘loving you’ part is not an effort. As for the other stuff, I don’t feel burdened by responsibility. Do you feel burdened by caring for the village?”
Tauro went back to work on her neck.
“I think I see your point,” Paya said after some thought. “Some people do not think much of serving others, but my service is an extension of my love for my people. I remember what makes Dorian smile. I know Trissa’s joints bother her when it rains. I try to understand what people need to be comfortable. Perhaps… perhaps I spent so long in hiding, I did not understand how I could be known. Perhaps I did not understand how limitless love really is.”
He sighed, wrapped his arms about her waist, kissed her cheek. “I feel it, Paya. Like we exist inside of love instead of the other way round, and it keeps growing.”
“Yes!”
“Mmm.” Another kiss. His voice low, next to her ear, “You are infinitely worth knowing, Beloved. Please trust me.”
“Yes. I trust you.”
“Don’t forget your tea and snacks.”
Paya picked up one of the onigiri from the plate in her lap and stopped halfway to her lips. “Tauro, is this fresh fish roe on top?”
“Mm-hmm. Queen Yona brought some hearty salmon roe as a present for our ceremonies. I thought I’d add some to your plate.”
She burst into tears.
Tauro rocked her some and made soothing noises.
“icanNOTbeLIEVEhowLUCKYiaaammMMmmMMmm,” Paya wailed. “WHY AM I CRYING ALL THE TIME??”
Tauro buried a laugh in her hair. “Ohhhh, Beloved, I’m sorry you’re feeling so raw. I think this is better than when you tried to bear it all silently, though.”
She sobbed and hiccuped and rubbed her eyes, but she nodded in agreement.
“You want your tea?”
She nodded again.
“Thank you, Tauro,” Paya sniffled.
He planted slow, deliberate kisses from her neck to her shoulder while she drank off her herbal infusion in one go.
She shuddered a bit from the bitter taste and couldn’t help making a face, but the kisses were a welcome distraction. She relaxed back onto his chest and reached up to stroke his hair. Paya took a moment to just breathe with Tauro before going back to the food he had brought her.
“Did you get a chance to speak much with Queen Yona?” She asked between bites.
“Yeah, she was telling me about the structures that fell in the domain! They aren’t just Zonai in design, they appear to have been a COLLABORATIVE EFFORT between the Zonai and Zora!! Link and Sidon were able to use a waterfall to ASCEND to a TEMPLE on the SKY ISLANDS where they did battle!!!”
“!!!” Paya said with her mouth full.
“I KNOW! Teba and Saki had stories about their Rito ancestors and the Zonai as well.” Tauro continued. “I’ve asked if folks would be willing to be interviewed by Survey Team members and they agreed. It’s like catching fish in the shallows! We’ll be able to leave a record of primary sources accounting to all these happenings across Hyrule.”
Paya giggled. “What did the Zora delegation think of your Lurelin sayings?”
Tauro gave her a squeeze. “They kinda sounded like dolphins when they laughed.”
Paya had to shush herself so she wouldn’t wake the village with her own laughter. “Oh, I would love to see if you would find King Sidon a kindred spirit! We should see if he and Queen Yona would like to visit Lurelin with us sometime.”
“I think they’d be fantastic fishing partners!”
Paya nibbled on a seedcake and gave Tauro a bite of spiced coconut cream. He licked it off his lips with relish.
“Do you and Chief Rozel need anything special for your purification rites?”
Tauro shook his head “no.” “Mmm-mm. When all the guests have arrived, we’ll go out with anybody who wants to participate in holding down the Yang side of the ceremonies and we’ll gather materials from the countryside.”
A small silence.
“Tauro, our vows are in a day or two.”
Another squeeze.
“Is there anything we should have a heart-to-heart about before we get really busy?” He asked her.
“Nothing is weighing on me, sweet one.” Paya told him. “I could float to Hylia Herself. And you?”
He leaned his cheek against her hair and let out a deep breath. “That sounds about right. I love you, Paya.”
Paya brought one of his hands to her lips to brush a kiss across his knuckles. “And I love you, Tauro.”
They rested in each other’s arms.
The morning sun brought more guests to the valley. Isha and Ashai formed the Gerudo delegation and the first rays of sunlight flashed off their golden adornments. A much smaller figure was with them, one with the gray hair of the Sheikah tribe.
Dorian roused Paya when the watch alerted him of visitors in the pass.
She was there to receive Josha with open arms. “Little Sister of the Village, welcome home!”
Josha bowed before running to embrace Paya. “Lady Paya!!” She shouted, wrapping her arms around her chief’s waist.
She pulled back to give Paya a big eyed expression. “You’re making vows with TAURO???”
Paya blushed and nodded. “I.. umm.. let’s not be rude to our guests, Josha. Would you like to make introductions?”
Josha sighed and turned back to the Gerudo. “Jewels and Wifey here were kind enough to escort me from Lookout Landing.”
Isha blushed angrily and began muttering while Ashai sighed in turn. “Those are not the most flattering nicknames, little vai.” Ashai said firmly.
Trying to reel it back, Paya bowed deeply. “Please! Be welcome to Kakariko Village. I am Chief Paya of the Sheikah tribe. Thank you so much for going out of your way to bring young Josha to us safely.”
Isha and Ashai genuflected in the Gerudo way. “I am Isha, hereditary keeper of the sacred wisdom that forges the Daybreaker and the Scimitar of the Seven.”
“And I am Ashai, a teacher in the wider ways of Hyrule. Our Chief sends her best wishes for your health and happiness, and her regrets at having to miss an opportunity for jubilation. I’m sure you can imagine that her duties as Sage and Chieftan are no easy burden.”
Paya placed her hands over her heart. “Yes, I pray for her and the other Sages’ success every day.”
Ashai took one of Paya’s hands between hers, “As do we all, Lady Paya.”
Josha was bouncing a little in excitement. “Hey. Hey Chief Paya, I was wondering if you could talk to the Boss Lady for me about letting me go into the Depths once the Demon King is gone.”
“I’m sure Chief Paya has plenty on her plate right now, little vai,” Isha said. “I know you’re enthusiastic, but at least let her have her wedding first?”
Josha’s face fell and she tried not to pout.
Paya withdrew her hand from Ashai’s and knelt so that she and Josha were eye-to-eye. “If we see the Demon King defeated, ask me again, Little Sister.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that!”
“I know you will.”
Bludo the Goron Elder was the last of the tribal dignitaries to arrive, making quite an entrance by rolling thunderously into the village. His booming voice as he greeted Paya seemed to resonate off the cliffsides. Kakariko looked completely transformed, both by the unusual activity of so many guests from many tribes and by the beautiful decorations that were almost in their final positions. Even the scaffolding around the Ring Ruins had been decorated with garlands of flowers and swags of vermillion fabric. Fruits from all over the world were piled in front of the kaeru guardians.
The afternoon sun raced across the valley floor. The last garland was secured in place upon the statue of Hylia. When all was in readiness, a gong rang out. The doors to the village hall opened and a figure with sun-kissed skin and silver hair appeared. She was clothed simply in a white cotton juban set and straw zori sandals. A taiko drum sounded from somewhere on the mountainside. Impa, veiled and carrying her mendicant staff, made her way to the staircase in front of the village hall, guarding Paya’s descent.
Chief Rozel blew a conch horn in the middle of the village round. Tauro emerged from the inn clad in a white cotton sarong. Numar, Bludo, Dr. Calip, Dorian, Teba, Olkin, Steen, and Cottla formed a line behind him, all dressed similarly.
Yona, her ladies in waiting Chroma and Kiya, Isha, Ashai, Josha, Saki, Koko, Nanna, Claree, and Lasli arrayed themselves alongside Impa.
Tauro lit a torch off one of the fires surrounding the Goddess and, one by one, the others in line behind him lit their torches in prayer. Tauro began to lead a procession up the village path that switchbacked up to the forest, the points of light showing their progress with one doubled at the end where Dorian kept a close eye on Cottla.
Impa struck the ground with her staff. The drum responded with a cadence. Paya felt the trance state begin to take hold and sank into a meditative breath. Impa struck the ground twice more and a grinding sound from deep beneath their feet signaled the opening of a new pathway. Cool blue light outlined the trajectory of a staircase descending into darkness.
The drum beat echoed, ringing slightly off the black ceramic walls of the stairway. Faintly lit constellations gave the impression that the space underground was limitless. Paya had to touch the walls to orient herself. Her companions lined up behind her and followed Paya down into the embrace of the abyss.
The forest procession’s torchlights illuminated a low dome. A willow rod frame had been covered with mats of woven cattails and then packed with earth on top. Tauro used his torch to light a sacred bonfire. When the blaze reached a certain height, Chief Rozel began to whisper to it. He fed it pieces of all the food that had been prepared for the celebration and the crackles as the nourishment was consumed sounded like a conversation between the chief and the fire. Numar played a pipe made of two hollow gull’s bones while his father and Tauro brought in coals and glowing rocks heated in the heart of the fire. The dome’s opening was barely able to fit Bludo, and even the Hylians still had to crouch and crawl into the sacred space. The opening was blocked with another mat behind the last person entering the dome, all of the participants sitting arranged around a central hearth. The lilting, keening song reverberated within the willow dome as the light from the fire was cut off.
Paya showed no hesitation on her descent into the Earth. The drum beat from the village began to get fainter and fainter, but the rhythm of her steps and the ringing strike of Impa’s staff created a song that drowned out thought. The group traveled from constellation to constellation, cosmic motifs sprawled across the walls and ceiling. The more time it took reaching their destination, the less it felt like time meant anything. There was only one direction: forward.
Those beings with the ability to sweat were starting to show it as they sat around the central hearth of the Yang ceremonies. Cottla had been given a heavy wool blanket to block some of the heat and her gourd of water was the biggest out of the participants. Dorian wiped his brow with his bare arm as he watched his daughter’s face in the scant light from the coals. Chief Rozel also glanced at her from time to time.
Numar’s song and the heat filling the dome had a hypnotic effect. Tauro sat still with legs crossed in the lotus position, letting the heat and the sweat and the closeness of many beings become sensations he was experiencing without judgement. Rozel held up a hand and the pipe melody cut off on a plaintive note like a bird crying. Rozel kneeled in front of Tauro, both men brushing their hair back to expose their foreheads. In unison, they clasped the back of each other’s skulls and pressed their foreheads together. Eyes wide, one inhaled while the other exhaled, and vice versa. Rozel drew away to pick up a sheaf of dried leaves.
“This Son, Tauro, comes to speak with the Village across the Deep Water where the Ones who have come before reside alongside the Ones who will be born. We give thanks to those who gave us life and gratitude to those whose lives come through us. Let all our relatives be here with us now, speaking the language of love.”
Rozel spread the leaves over the hearth, sending up a curling veil of herbal smoke.
Paya was better able to perceive the walls around her again as a cerulean glow grew closer. A natural spring emitting from the bedrock was augmented with masonry made of luminous stone. The familiar celestial designs decorated an egg-shaped room, half craggy, half constructed. Paya knelt before the spring and Impa kneeled next to her, striking her staff against the floor one last time to punctuate the journey. Impa found a bamboo dipper on a protruding rock and rinsing one hand, then the other, poured a tiny amount of water into her left hand and passed the dipper to Paya.
“I would advise that you take only a small sip of the sacred water,” she said loudly enough for all to hear. “This is a salt spring.” She brought her cupped hand to her lips.
Paya took Impa’s advice, the tang of salt and the mineral taste of granite got between her lips and gums and lingered in the back of her throat.
One by one, the Yin procession repeated the ritual of rinsing hands and cleaning the mouth. One of the Zora assisted Saki with cleaning her feathers and poured her libation directly into her beak.
When Koko, the last participant, had completed the ritual, Impa turned to Paya and gestured for her to enter the water.
The smoke from the herbs on the smoldering coals rose like shades of spirits. Cottla began to cough and someone handed her water over.
Tauro began to sway a bit. The pulsing glow from the coal bed was casting uncertain shadows and the spaces between his companions began to feel like they were populated. It sounded as though the wind was picking up outside the walls of the structure. He focused on his breathing. The air was uncomfortably smokey and Tauro turned his mind toward gratitude for each inward breath that came easily. When Paya came to his inner vision, Tauro smiled and relaxed. It was gratitude all the way.
Paya found the waters of the spring to be slightly warmer than blood temperature. It was salty enough that she felt floatier than normal. Impa indicated that the others should also enter the water. She herself stayed kneeling at the edge instead.
“Lie on your back,” she instructed Paya. “Friends and relatives, please arrange yourselves around our Lady.”
The companions found the most comfortable places for each of them to stand on the uneven floor of the rock pool. Paya lay with her head toward Impa, hands clasped over her heart.
Reaching under the water to cradle Paya’s head, Impa instructed. “Please support our Lady and the new life inside her.”
Flesh and feathers easily took the weight of Paya’s body, buoyed by the salt water.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM…”
The shape of the room made Impa’s voice sound like it was coming from every direction.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM…”
When the others joined in, their blended voices resembled the divine harmonies of the sacred realm in Paya’s quickening dream. But they were real, more penetrating and complex even though her ear canals were under the surface of the water.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM…..”
Tauro could feel … weight. And presence. The increasingly piercing sound of the whistling wind and the dense smoke in the air were competing for his attention. He turned his focus toward his awareness of Others. It was hard to keep his physical eyes open to see anything through the dim haze. His hand traced outlines in the air of what he saw with his eyes closed. He was reaching, but not quite certain of how to bridge the gap.
“M-Mommy?” Cottla croaked, deep in her own vision.
Tauro felt warm hands on his shoulders.
Paya had not been supported like this since before she was born. The chant had become the heartbeat of the Earth which bore her. Her breathing came slow and even. Her experience touched on the edges of all the lifebearers before her who had lain in this pool, an unbroken passage through which Paya herself had emerged. She felt the resonance of their emotions carried in the water: excited, trepidatious, ecstatic, despondent, grieving, fulfillment, letting all of it wash over her. She touched those moments of pain and insecurity with tenderness, and sank beneath the current of pure feeling to find a deep well of love. All of the beings before her had contributed to its’ depth in some measure. Paya felt an outpouring of love so strong it made her shout for joy. The chanting grew stronger in response.
Tauro sat in the cradle he had carved. His life givers, each in their own boat, towed him between them. Although the water stretched from horizon to horizon, there was no current or wave to disturb the surface. It was flat like a mirror except for the wake produced by their three vessels. No words were spoken. They did not turn to look at him, and still he felt loved and safe. Tauro gazed upon the star-filled sky. A warm glow grew in their sightline. Tauro felt an awareness turn toward him composed of the attention of many beings. His parents cast ropes into the source of the light and they were all hauled in together by many crystalline hands. He felt rather than heard the greetings. He was reminded of the great shoals of fish that used to support giant marine predators, many members of the collective would flash an emotion or sensation like sunlight shining off scales. Tauro couldn’t begin to number them if he tried. His mind struggled a little to comprehend the incomprehensible.
He took deep breaths into his Hara and did his best to open his heart.
Paya gave thanks for her village, and for her valley. She could feel the turn of its seasons from many perspectives through the ages. She felt her belly swell and empty, she felt the pain of birth, she felt what it was to see a child walk away from you and not look back. She felt the bones of her Ancestors surrounding her in the Earth, she felt the trees in the forest that fed the living drawing nourishment from her relative’s bodies. She felt every bee sting, every bud breaking forth in spring, every granite slab broken up to make gravestones that had happened in that valley for 10,000 years. And there was so much love in everything.
Paya realized how many changes to the Sheikah way of life had truly happened over the years. But the drastic changes to the land? Those were few and far between even in the ages of legend. Shaken a little by the realization, she let the flow of love that was so close at hand lift her heart. Their ways would continue and adapt as they always had.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM…”
Underneath the droning chant, Paya began to perceive another, faster rhythm.
Patterns of light eddied and swirled around him. Tauro felt some beings respond with curiosity to the cradle he sat in. He thought of Paya and the whole collective became excited. He felt giddy in the midst of it. A warmth enveloped him.
He was moved by the depth of emotion on his behalf. He received an image sent by the collective of his cradle rocking and then so many cradles in many different waters. None were exactly alike but they all felt familiar. Familial.
The sensation was physically palpable, given the weight of an embrace. Being held by so many relatives brought tears to Tauro’s eyes.
He had never been one to miss the company of other beings. Tauro could happily spend days, weeks, months, with no one to speak to and no thought of companionship. At least until he had fallen in love with Paya. It struck him that his love for her had led him to this new place of connection with himself and those who bore his heritage. The collective community responded to this thought with delight.
Tauro flipped his hair back and felt many consciousnesses behind the pressure against his forehead. His eyes were open but all he could perceive was the shifting light. He exhaled and felt the light draw him in. When he inhaled, the life force of uncountable beings suffused him. Many voices lifted in sacred harmonies.
Paya was reminded of how often she took comfort in listening to Tauro’s heartbeat. What she heard now was much quicker, much higher pitched, like the fluttering wings of a rock dove. The rhythm was strong and regular.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM…”
Her Eye tattoo began to prickle as if the striker were once again piercing her flesh. Once again, Paya could feel in her own body how it felt for each of her Ancestors who had visited these waters when they received their own tattoos. A hundred strikers pounding in syncopation interwove with the gentle heart tones of the new life she bore, underscored by the buzzing, hypnotic chant.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM…”
The light of the star that had inhabited her in her quickening dream began to glow again. She felt it in every fiber of her being. Paya was being uplifted by the foundations laid by her Ancestors, uplifted by her lover, her peers and relatives, and by the sweetness held in the promise of a heartbeat. She overflowed with love and felt it seep into the bedrock of Kakariko. She felt the footsteps of her descendants on her body, an echo of when her physical form would be laid to rest beside the village.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM…”
Paya felt rather than heard a dragon roar from far, far above the Earth and opened her eyes.
Tauro startled back into his body as the reverberations of the roar began to recede. Chief Rozel had scraped the last of the embers into a small pile in the middle of the hearth as the other celebrants sang lively, wordless chants, drumming on chests or thighs. Teba added piercing ululations while Bludo’s voice shook the ground they sat on.
Tauro waved and gestured toward his water. Many hands passed the container, from one to the other, until Tauro was able to quench his thirst. Rozel grasped his shoulder and Tauro began to laugh for joy. Rozel joined in, then Cottla, then Calip, then everyone in the willow dome. The glow of the coals began to die as everyone leaned on each other and shook with laughter.
Even when the entrance to the dome had been unblocked, the darkness did not abate. Once people had made their way out of the shelter, the glow of blue nightshades and silent mushrooms led them back to the path toward the village. Their silent and orderly ingress was not repeated. Folks were still laughing and hanging on friends as they headed back down the mountain path. They split up into their accommodations for the night, Tauro staying at the Inn.
“Are you well, child?” Impa asked.
“Yes, grandmother,” Paya responded. The pitch of her voice seemed to create resonant vibrations in the granite walls.
“Thank you for holding me,” she addressed her companions tenderly. “I believe I can get up now.”
The others withdrew to the edges of the pool while Paya sat up.
Koko had very big eyes when she approached her chief.
“If I carry a baby, am I going to do that?”
Impa answered instead. “Every lifebearer will have a different experience, but yes, you will be given a ceremony here.”
Paya opened her arms to Koko, smiling. “Little Sister, I felt every lifebearer who has ever called this village home.”
“A- All of them?”
“…Yes. Your mother, too. And mine.”
Koko leaned into the hug. “She was here in these waters?”
Paya rocked Koko, big as she was. “Yes. When she was carrying you.”
The companions began to chatter a bit, particularly those who had never experienced a Shiekah ritual. Impa cleared her throat.
“Thank you, friends and relatives, for choosing to be here tonight. Let us return to the village in a reverential attitude.”
Paya and Koko led everyone back up the steps toward the surface. It seemed to take much less time than the descent. All was silent when they emerged in front of the goddess statue. The bedecked village was lit only by fireflies at this hour. Paya knelt in front of Hylia and prayed. Most of her companions joined her. When she got up, she embraced each of them in turn. Gentle laughs, palms laid adoringly on cheeks, kisses and preening.
“I will see you all in the morning!” She called as they parted ways.
Impa struck her staff three times and the stone slab covering the staircase grated back into place.
The dragon’s roar echoed throughout everyone’s dreams that night. Those who were more spiritually inclined caught a glimpse of the sacred realms and saw a small figure holding aloft a dazzling blade while atop a pale dragon.
Nanna, Claree, and Lasli came to the loft shortly after Paya awoke, laughing and chattering. Claree and Lasli carried the robes for the vow ceremony and Nanna carried a tray of breakfast foods.
Paya broke her fast ravenously, really feeling her appetite for the first time in weeks. When she was ready to be dressed, she stood in her underskirt and breast support in the middle of the loft. Looking down at her own body, she noticed the curve of her hips and belly starting to swell as well as how much her chest strained the wrapped support fabric now. Paya’s ceremonial robes were made of soft silks traded from the great faeries and they flowed over her new contours like water. Claree and Lasli chatted and gossiped with Paya as they helped her arrange her finery just so.
Koko arrived with the crown of sundelions and Nanna helped bind Paya’s hair in a way that complimented her flowers. They all embraced before Paya descended into the village hall and waited for her cue at the doors.
A taiko drum and Rozel’s conch horn were the cues she was waiting for. Dorian and Steen threw the doors open for her and Paya began to make her way down the stairs.
Her golden robes draped off her shoulders and glinted like molten metal in the sunlight. The vermillion lining was visible on the turned back cuffs of the large sleeve openings. A thin, trailing ribbon-like scarf called a tenne flowed behind her and over each arm. Her embroidered indigo obi was worn a little high up and it tilted slightly over her more rounded belly. Wooden kanzashi hair sticks secured the garland of flowers to her head. The finest, sheerest silk veil, a simple circle draped over the top of Paya’s head, shimmered with a changeable weave of gold and undyed fibers.
Tauro, dressed in his own finery, stood up a little straighter when she appeared. He stood in front of the statue of Hylia decked out in elaborate jewelry made of stone beads and a beautifully patterned Lurelin sarong in shades of green. His chest drape also went over one arm. His head and his feet were bare. His smile stretched from ear to ear.
Her hands were clasped in front of her heart and her affectionate gaze was on his face. When she met him in front of the Goddess, he reached for her and she took his hands.
“Friends and relatives,” Impa called from off to the side, “those who have traveled great distances to be here and those who were born in the shelter of this valley, please be welcome!”
Paya and Tauro turned to bow at the beings gathered around them.
“We will now hear your petition to the community. Paya, you first.”
Paya blushed but she held her head high.
“My people! My Goddess! Ancestors! I stand before you with the father of the life growing within me. The next generation of the Sheikah breathes and has a heartbeat in me. I have been faithful in my duties as a Daughter who serves. I come before you in the spirit of the love that has flowed throughout the ages between the beings that populate this valley. Tauro and I have planted a seed together to tend it and watch it bear fruit, and to grow old in its shade. I pray that you open your hearts to us!”
Paya squeezed Tauro’s hand and he planted a kiss across her knuckles. Impa directed the young Sheikah girls to circulate among the crowd with lacquer cups and rice wine.
“Family!” Tauro called. “I stand before you with the chief of the Sheikah people. I ask that you hold us with hope. Creation is still healing. I come before you in the spirit of change and evolution. Our footsteps tread new ground even as we rely on the wisdom of the ancients. With Lady Paya, I reach new heights of understanding and new depths of feeling. Chief Paya and I have dreamed a common dream of peace across Hyrule, and raising a family free from fear. Do you share this dream with us?”
Toasting the couple with their cups of wine, the crowd roared with one voice “HAI”
Impa called out, “Do you affirm the union of Chief Paya and Tauro of Lurelin?”
“HAI”
“Is their child a child of this village?”
“HAI”
Impa herself served Paya and Tauro their servings of sake.
“Let their love be blessed for all time!”
The happy couple toasted each other and everyone drank off their cups in one go.
Paya parted Tauro’s hair and tucked his errant locks behind each ear. He laid a palm at the back of her skull with the gentlest of touches. She brought him close as she mirrored the gesture. He kissed the center of her eye tattoo and pressed his forehead where his lips had lingered. Staring into her eyes, he was reminded of falling into the swirl of consciousnesses that was the village beyond the Deep Water. He inhaled as she exhaled. As he exhaled, Paya inhaled, and Tauro’s breath nourished more than just her own body.
Cheers broke out as they kissed each other, touched with an edge of passion.
Rozel blew the conch horn again and the feast was on.
People were free to make plates and mingle. Many small tables and chairs had been placed at the edges of the village round. Claree brought Paya a michiyuki robe protector and helped her to put it on. The diaphanous veil was taken away for safekeeping. Tauro fretted playfully about losing access to Paya’s bare shoulders and a casual onlooker would not have been able to tell whether she was blushing from the rice wine or the attention.
Tauro and Paya mostly stayed in one place as guests orbited around them. Dear faces circulated in and out of conversation. Many toasts were made, although Paya toasted with cool water going forward. Taiko drums began playing and the space in front of Hylia became a dance floor. All those beings who shared in the dream of Hyrule’s liberation found some release from tension that day in joyful celebration.
Isha and Ashai cleared the floor for a couple’s dance with scimitars. The sunlight as it gleamed from their swords and jewels became a part of the dance. The beauty belied the risk the dancers undertook, and the utter trust on display culminated in a kiss that sent up cheers from the watching village. The Gerudo were given thunderous applause.
Teba and Saki dazzled with an aerial dance. Saki had borrowed Paya’s tenne silk scarf and she really looked like a figure out of legend. A portion where they flew high and then fell together wheeling with claws clasped drew gasps and cries of disbelief from the audience. Back on the Earth’s surface, they preened each other as the ceremonial party shouted their praises.
Rozel and Numar coaxed laughter from everyone by doing the Bolson dance. Josha, Koko, and Cottla performed a short routine they had choreographed themselves featuring adorable ending poses. As night began to fall and the flow of wine began to make folks a little silly, the Zonai Survey Team members started up a kickline.
The Zora enthralled the crowd by swimming up the waterfalls surrounding the village hall and then performing acrobatic dives into the pool below.
That was about the point that Paya’s energy began to wane. She squeezed Tauro’s hand, he took one look at her face and nodded. “I’m ready to turn in if you are, Beloved.”
She took her time getting up from her seat, took a deep breath, and addressed the village. “My people, thank you so much for making this day one that Tauro and I will cherish forever. I need to take myself to my rest now, but I beg that you continue to avail yourselves of the food and music until you have had your fill. Kakariko has never been so full of beings of all nations in my lifetime. I would ask that you make the most of this opportunity to connect.”
She bowed deeply. “Good night, all.”
A chorus of “Good night”s came back in reply.
Tauro waved. “Sending love to everyone!” He added. “Good night!”
fin.
***
author’s notes/cultural notes: tauro having a notebook to write to paya when he’s not with her is inspired by early examples of japanese poetry, which i believe are called “wandering songs,” or “traveling songs.” folks used to think of marriage/romance as exchanging parts of your souls and you had to nourish the bit of your partner in yourself when you went wandering, so these poems were written by a traveling spouse speaking to the part of their beloved that they carried with them.
additionally, the bit about the hylian rice comes from a japanese proverb: minoruhodo, kobe wo tareru inaho kana or “those who have accomplished the most, look to the noble rice stalk to see how the more fruit one bears, the deeper one bows.”
sheikah wedding rites are modeled after jinzen shiki, or “civil” Japanese weddings. since i do not support imperialism in my faith, i chose to omit iconography associated with the wedding of the taisho-era emperor in favor of a fancier version of wedding traditions my rural ancestors would have had.
tauro's yang-side ritual was inspired by ceremonies on turtle island that i have been invited to participate in. i chose to omit specific practices that didn't feel right to share, but hopefully the idea of connecting to a greater collective and a communal well of wisdom is being honored.
isha and ashai are lovers because I think it’s a fucking crime that we don’t have gerudo wlw rep. yes, i am choosing to vent about it here. also, i think it would be hilarious for the ‘voe and you’ teacher to be queer.
earliest you can detect heart tones on something like a fetal doppler is 10-12 weeks gestation, if anybody was wondering. you can actually hear the heartbeat with analogue tools like a pinard's horn starting about the same time the pregnant parent starts to feel kicking, about 20 weeks or halfway through, but we're gonna pretend the ritual was like a magical doppler.
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focsle · 2 years
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Writing a little thing to a whaleman. Complicated to write about a man who enjoyed the work so….here’s my Obligatory Disclaimer that I love whales and we should leave ‘em alone, ANYWAY…
You didn’t know the wheel of your life when you first found yourself in that port. The streets were cold and quiet, January dusk gathering in the muddy puddles of a recent rain. All you knew was that you wanted a place to sit down out of the cold. Somewhere to get something to eat, drink, and listen.
You didn’t talk to anyone in that public house. You never felt you had much worth saying or that you were much worth noticing. Up to that point the world in turn seemed to agree. You were a big man but the years taught you to make yourself small, guarded and rounding in on yourself at every place you came to. You learned it as a boy when your father spat his vitriol, and you kept your eyes down to study the weave of your shirt. His foot had been broken a long time ago and it never healed right. He let his pain spill out to everyone around him, to you, to your mother who never once tried to protect you from him. You’d lean your elbows on the rough fence penning in the property, that low black house with its red door. With the taste of blood in your mouth you’d seek refuge watching the geese pick at the grass. You’d watch the indifferent sunset bathe the little farm in a light that would’ve been beautiful if it was anywhere but there. At age twenty one you left. 
And found yourself here, dirt under your fingernails and in the lines of your palms, clothing rough and battered because life never gave you much better, a down-and-out from out-of-town looking to ship. You eavesdropped to learn what vessels were outward bound and how soon. You heard others’ reasons for whaling, but none of them were yours. To you, a whaler was a place to sleep at night and a couple meals a day. That was guaranteed for at least a few years, if you survived them. That’s all you were trying to find.
But it became so much more to you. You couldn’t bear longer than a month ashore on your return. You stood in shipping offices with your protection papers in hand, worn soft through your many foldings and unfoldings and reflectings. You kept that certificate as carefully as any relic. It was your everything. It marked you as a whaleman, and you took on the title with pride.
Few other people did. Certainly not those ashore who looked upon your lot as a problem that needed fixing: destitute, depraved, and soiled in every way one could be, they said. But at the end of the day they still relied on you for light. Even on a whaleship there was little respect for the work. Many around you growled and vowed to quit whaling at the first opportunity, to join the merchant service instead. The sullen officers missed the families they left behind and cursed the watery prison they put themselves in. But not you.
Greenhand, to ordinary, to boatsteerer. You may have gone higher had you lived longer. But climbing rank was never your intention. You simply took to it. You were good at it. And in that place, like nowhere else, people noticed you. Here, you were finally important. The green ones looked to you for instruction. I don’t know how to do it, they’d say as you sat with them. You’d cast your eyes aloft at the network of lines and tell them to look up too, to follow the lines and figure it out. And you wouldn’t let them go until they learned through doing it on their own under your eye, but they always learned. The officers looked to you for success, calling your name for their boats crew, knowing that you’d fit them out nice and neat, that you’d throw the iron true when the time came. They’d stamp blood-spouting whales in the columns of their logbook with ‘larboard boat’ scrawled beside them.
You came alive in that tiny boat, even when you knew that at any time you could also die in it. And you felt that if all went as it was supposed to, a whale would kill you one day, but until that day…The spray off the water as the long oars churned, a small sea shipping over the side when the waves broke against your haste. A black back surfacing to gleam in the sun, sending up a roaring spout just alongside. It always took your breath away. You were never more aware of the sound of your own heart as in those moments, adrenaline wound through every tendon just like the whale lines running through the boat. Your balance was married with that boat. You knew just how to move with it, how to roll with its pitch and how to stand at the bow and brace your heel against the bulwarks as the seawater sloshed at your calves. You knew how to heft a harpoon in perfect form. It felt as much a part of you as your own limb. This was where everything you were made of was pulled into one core moment where you knew yourself.
The ports of call that came to know whalemen were the only stretches of shore where you felt at ease. At a dark smoky table folded into the raucous revels of the crew around you, a woman slid herself between you and a shipmate. She pressed her warm shoulder against yours, greeted you. You always thought yourself unhandsome, never imagined a woman would pay you any mind if she wasn’t working, and she was working make no mistake. She knew you were a whaler—near every fellow in that public house was— and she probably thought you were as easy a sell as the rest of them, too long alone at sea. But you felt she also saw you the way you wanted to be seen, a whaler and all that word entailed. So you let her lead you away from the table where your shipmates whistled at your back as you went. Your time with her was brief, and hungry, and inelegant, and lightened your pocket by three dollars. Expensive. Half your liberty money. But it didn’t matter. The pay never mattered. 
You signed on to some voyages with barely a share worth your experience because it was the next ship leaving and you liked the look of her. You once took on the debt of another shipmate that he had sunk into the slop chest, symbolically buying an old scrap of cloth from him to help settle his accounts. You spent your borrowed dollars without thinking much of how it’d be eaten out of your pay at the end of it all. The song of ‘homeward bound’ was never a song to you. Instead, you found yourself homeward every time you stepped down from the masthead, onto the deck of a whaler where you mattered. That was the little place the world had set aside for you. Success or failure, you knew you’d return to it again and again.
You never made yourself small on a whaleship. During gams you laughed loud with men you’d maybe never see again, leapt up on the davits and aimed a phantom iron at some old dead memory, boasting of your experiences. You sang to your shipmates working the windlass, your voice drawling and easy and taking up space. There’s some men bound for the Bengal Bay to teach them whales to dance, heave away me Johnny boy. 
It all felt right. Even when the blood and oil ran down your arms, under your sleeves to soak your shirt through with filth. When exhaustion made it torture to stand and your soul settled achingly back into itself when you finally laid down in a damp mouldering berth. When the orange you dug your thumbnail into while strolling a Honolulu street tasted like heaven, so deprived you were of any earthly pleasures. It was where you belonged even when it was hard, even when it was ugly.
Another boatsteerer died in the bunk beneath yours one spring. A New York man who kept you up some nights burning his lantern and flipping through the pamphlets of missionaries as though he thought they’d save him. One night he woke you with his groans instead, doubled up on himself over some agony in his guts. You sat beside him but didn’t know what to say to him that would be of any comfort. He just complained of the pain, dug his fingers into your arm, cursed and spat, sweated through everything, and was dead by midnight. 
He was buried the next morning on a cold rock in the fog. All you could think looking at that cairn was that being done-in by a foul stomach in a bunk was no way for a boatsteerer to die. Maybe that man hadn’t wanted to die as a boatsteerer; maybe he wanted to die as an old man ashore with a wife at his bedside. But you knew that you didn’t want to end like him.
And you didn’t. After nigh eight years of truly knowing yourself you were lost to the sea. The whale you sank your iron into was wild, rolling its body to try and free itself of you. It struck the side of the boat, overturning the line tub and upsetting your stride as you moved to switch places with the mate. You felt a sharp jerk in your left side, enough time to know what had happened but not enough to be able to stop it. Enough to know the line was fouled and that you had stepped down into it. You felt the water at your back and then it closed over you, cold and black. The line was carried out of the boat, the whale gone, and so were you. But in the hindsight and remove that comes from death, I heard your clear conviction that that was how it was supposed to be. It was my line, my iron, you insist. It wasn’t a foul stomach, or someone’s mistake that went wrong, or a quiet death somewhere on land. It was my death. Any other way wouldn’t have felt right. And so, you closed the circle of your brief life with the last piece that fit.
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rudemaidenswrite · 2 years
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Don't Belong Here
Part 4
By: @pusantheamazonian
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 
Tag list: @athenaricham-loves-orcs  @pandainfinitely @rosecat5
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"Charlie we got a problem." Olivia whispers once Charlie gets home. 
"What is it?" Confused, Charlie sets her bag on the table. Olivia points at you. Quietly staring at the wall in silence.
"You okay Y/N?" Olivia asks, sitting beside you. Charlie is sitting on the other side.
"Something bad is gonna happen. I know it." Uneasy, you can't really explain it. 
"Did something happen with Ronnie?" Charlie probes.
"I don't know anymore." Sighing you slouch into the couch.
"What do you mean?" Charlie reiterates, her HR skills kicking. 
"I go to the party and end up talking to Ronnie the whole night. Exchange numbers and continue talking. He even gave me a nickname. Unfortunate circumstances and he's at work helping to identify a body. In a fit of anger and emotions, he basically jumped me after work. Days later after no contact he comes over to apologize. Gives a weak ass apology but I accept it anyways. It's an appropriate reaction to your friend suddenly dying to have untamed emotions. But our relationship is rocky cause I'm still offended from the bruise he left. Co-workers are still pissed. Today he picked me up because they needed medical expertise but couldn't go to a hospital. So I'm fixing a couple guys up; obviously the other dudes are dead. Dorghu comes in and wants to speak privately with me. He thanks me for helping out. Which is odd. He questions why I speak Orc and then gives his permission for me to be with Ronnie or anyone in the clan. Where the hell does he get the idea that Ronnie and I are even dating? We’re not even official. Ronnie then asks what Dorghu wanted so I tell him. I also told him how my wrist broke. Which made Ronnie angry. After talking with Dorghu I've started questioning my feelings about Ronnie. There's too many variables that suggest he's just playing me because he was ordered to. So I've been staring at the wall, rethinking my entire life." Not breathing you summarize everything. 
Olivia and Charlie are stunned. It's a few minutes before anyone speaks. 
"That's a lot more complicated than I thought it would be." Charlie finally comments.
"You must like him cause you two were obviously digging on each other. Right up the friend incident." Olivia states. 
"But being so involved already. They're going to force me to be part of them no matter what." Massaging your temples this weird situation keeps getting weirder. 
"Ooooh! Well, pick a cute one." Charlie abandons the situation like she has the last seat on the rescue boats from the Titanic.
"What do Mam and Pap think about Ronnie?" Olivia interjects.
"Only Pap knows about him and that's because he was there when Ronnie came to work. Besides Pap's on the fence." Another sigh and you throw a blanket over your head to hide. 
“That's not bad but it's not good either.” Unsure Olivia pats your head. 
“You haven’t told Mam about Ronnie? May Luthic help your soul.” Stunned Charlie can't believe you haven't told Mam. Mam is going to rip you a new one when she finds out. 
“I know, I'm gonna need it.”
Those weird thoughts keep popping into his head and have not left. Why did Dorghu want to privately talk to you? He could have told him what he wanted to know. Unless there's more that you're not saying. 
It clicks. Something else happened with that boy. There's something else fueling your spite. Something bad. It’s starting to make sense. Why you're so quiet. Why you can fight. The ability to speak the language. Hell he bruised the same wrist. He probably gave PTSD flashbacks. And left you alone for the rest of the day.
Shit.
You're probably not sleeping. Probably staring off into space. He has to find you. He needs to be on the same page.
Putting his truck in park he watches you come out of your apartment complex and walk across the parking lot, down into an alley. Confused, that's weird behavior coming from you. As he follows you down the alley he watches you light up a cigarette. Surprised he didn't take you as a smoker he never smelled tobacco on you. Sneaking up behind you, he's hit with what you're really smoking.
"Are you smoking weed?"
"God damnit Ronnie!" Screaming, every single time you're hiding in an alley he finds you. At least it is him that finds you and nobody else. "No it's not weed, they test for that. Hemp cigarettes." You give him a glare. 
"You didn't tell me you smoke." Teasing, he gets in your personal space. 
"Only when I'm super angry or frustrated. Angry smoke one and done." Irritated from lack of sleep and now this. You’re considering smoking the rest of this pack. 
"Why are you angry smoking?" Nodding at the cigarette. 
"Where were you today?"  Scoffing, you take another drag. 
"You get stranger by the day."
"You're welcome." You give him a mini salute. 
He takes your cigarette and starts smoking it. "I thought Doctors are against liquor, tobacco and illegal drugs."
"I'm more, do as I say, not as I do. Besides, my patients don't give me any lip." Seeing that he's not going to give that one back. You fish the pack out for another one. 
"You don't need those." He grabs the pack before you can open it.
"Excuse you!" He raises the pack above his head as you reach for it. "Ronnie! Give those back!" 
"Talk."
"What?" Stunned, you didn't expect him to counter you so quickly. 
"What exactly made you frustrated?" 
You remain silent. At your reluctance he gives a shrug. "I've got all night."
"Ugh! I don't even know what we are! Are we dating? Are we something? Are we best friends or are we nothing?" With a frustrated groan you start listing off questions that need answers.
"That's why you're frustrated?" Holding back a scoff that's a stupid reason for you to be distracted. 
"NO!" Screaming this is becoming too much. 
"Then what?"
"How about I get the feeling that I'm about to become a piece of property and not my own person anymore." Angrily you try to shove Ronnie backwards. 
"It's not going to be like that." He's shocked that you tried to purposely push him.
"Bullshit." Tears are starting to form. 
"It's not."
"Or how about I don't know if what we have going on is real or are you following fucking orders!" Yelling this you run back inside. Leaving him stunned and still holding the pack. 
After all the progress you two made after the friend incident. Today's events make you question if it was all a lie. If everything since the party was a lie. 
You think he's following orders to be with you? He's liked you from the very beginning. The moment you told him he had to speak up.
No.
He doesn't know why you would think that. He can't have any miscommunication with you. He still feels shitty about the incident at your work. Quickly following you to your apartment. You've already disappeared inside.
"Y/N! We need to talk!" Banging on the door repeatedly. He's surprised when your sister opens it.
"Uhhhh. Y/N can't come to the door right now." There's a very audible thud then Menace 2 Sobriety blasting from the stereo. "Yeah. I wouldn't risk it right now. How about I give you an update later?"
"You sure?" He can't risk it.
Charlie walks into the hall, closing the door behind her. “I don’t know exactly what's going on but I know my sister. She is an asshole. If she’s being mean, it's because she wants to see what your limit is before you walk away. Cruz and our parents fucked her up."
"Shit." Everything is just getting worse.
"But she still likes you so there’s hope. She's stuck with you this long." Shrugging Charlie leans on the wall. 
Her comment doesn't ease his mind. He hears footsteps stop behind the closed door across the hall. She must hear it too because he watches your sister turn towards the same door.
"Mind your own business Randy!" Charlie shouts.
"Does he do this a lot?" Questioning about the nosey neighbor, he points at the door.
"Yup." Charlie nods. 
Irritated, he bangs on Randy's door. The dude needs to learn.
"Yes? Do-" 
"Mind your own business or else." Growling, he glares down at the man.
"O-Okay." Stuttering, Randy can only nod. Quickly slamming his door.
"If he does it again let me know."
"Will do." Charlie heads back to her door. “She needs a ride home Thursday morning. I suggest 7am sharp out front.”
"7am. Got it." Nodding he makes a mental note.
"Oh! You do know her love language, right?" Charlie taps her head as she remembers stuff.
"Huh?"
"Lord she did end up with a Jethro Bodine. Okay you need to Google some shit. But her love language is words of affirmation and acts of service. Also physical touch cause hey we're both touch starved." Shrugging, Charlie plays off the last comment.
"Love language? Is this a real thing?"  Suspicious he’s heard of types of love before but not love languages. 
"Yes."
"Hmm, why are you helping me?" Staring down he finds Charlie’s shit eating grin annoying.
"Shouldn't everyone have a chance at love?" Smirking Charlie walks inside.
Dumbfounded, that's the most honest response ever.
~
"Y/N! Over here." Shouting. From the curb he sees you coming out the door. 
"What are you doing here?" Scowling you weren't expecting to see Ronnie so soon. Unconsciously you walk slower. 
"Charlie said you needed a ride home." He opens the passenger door waiting for you. 
"Of course she did."
Reluctantly you climb inside his truck and he shuts the door. Watching him round the front and climb into the driver seat. You don't really feel like arguing and the quicker you get home the quicker you can sleep this situation away. 
“Don’t you wear scrubs or whatever at work?” Breaking the silence he eyes the baggy clothes you're wearing. 
“We change in the locker room. To prevent cross contamination we only wear specific scrubs while on duty.” 
“Ah.” This is going to be harder than he thought. You're not going to be very talkative today.
"I thought you were giving me a ride home." Glaring, you're suspicious about what's going on. Because he just pulled into a diner parking lot.
"Breakfast first. Home later." Turning the truck off he heads inside.
Shaking your head in disbelief. He really is doing detours so he can take the long way around to your house. Unwilling, you follow him into the dinner. Seems like Charlie is trying to help him get on your good side again. Since this happens to be one of your favorite diners to go to afterwork. Sitting in silence across from him. You might as well get free breakfast out of it. 
"Your sister mentioned Cruz and your parents the other night." Waiting for food he might as well bite the bullet. 
"Cruz is the guy I told you about." Stirring your orange juice with your straw, you avoid his gaze.
"I don't see how it matters years later."
"I'm friends with his sister." Still stirring you look at him like he’s stupid. The Jethro Bodine in him is really coming out. 
"Oh."
"Yes, so you can imagine the scandal that was caused." Leaning back you move your cup out of the way. Neither one of you speaks until the waitress has walked away. 
"Your parents?"
"Dead to me." Irritated no one has really asked about your parents before. Then again you've never gotten this close romantically for anyone to ask about them. 
"You don't talk about your parents." Ronnie reiterates. 
Frowning, you know that statement is actually a question. And you know he means your birth parents. "You don't talk about your parents." You match his stare and tone. 
"My father died in jail. Mom lives with my brother in Fresno."
"They're both alive. I think. Turns out they're really racist and didn't approve of what I wanted. So they kicked me out when I was eighteen because they couldn't legally control me anymore." Shrugging its old news but it still hurts to talk about. 
"Damn." He wasn't expecting that. He was actually expecting it to be something about them not wanting you to be in a dangerous city or morbid job. Shit you're a self made woman. No wonder you act like you do when you're pissed. "Why do you have a hearing problem?" 
"While Cruz was crushing my wrist, his sister intervened. In the process I took a smack to the head and it damaged the bones that help you hear on that side. Besides, I have eardrum scarring." Pointing to your right ear. 
"Shit."
"Yeah that was a fun ER visit. They didn't buy the BS we were telling."
Oh God. You weren't just part of a violent dispute, you were collateral damage. Just thinking about it makes him upset. You've been plagued with incident after incident with Orcs yet you don't hate them. You're a better person than him.
“Any more questions?” You can see the wheels turning in his head. You've thrown him through a loop already. 
“No.” Shaking his head he’s already learned stuff that he wishes he didn't know. 
Finally back at your apartment complex, you're both sitting there awkwardly. You have seriously been thinking about the status of your relationship with Ronnie. There needs to be an official title in place. Because you don't need to be doing wifey shit for someone that you're not seriously attached to. But that's a discussion you don't really want to have but definitely need to have right now. Cause either be together or cut all ties.
"You know how to fix a sink?"  Looking at him you start making a plan on how you're going to approach this. Non-hostile as possible. Pap taught you that Orc men can be emotionally congested or weird about showing true emotions to their new partner. So best to distract while having the conversation. 
“Not really, more of fixing cars than plumbing.” Shaking his head no. Why would you ask that? 
“Come on then.” Opening the truck door you nod at him to follow. 
“What?”
“Come on and show you how.” Nodding again you get out and shut the door. Staring at him until gets out of the truck. 
Once inside your apartment it's obvious that you live here with roommates. Smells of three different people live here. Your apartment is nothing like he thought it was going to look like. Plants are scattered everywhere, an ungodly amount of pillows and blankets on the couch and various Orc religious pieces. 
“This way.” Nodding you lead him through your bedroom to the attached bathroom. 
Once inside the place smells so much of you it is overwhelming. Seems like the plants have started to take over your bedroom as well. 
"Here's the parts and the tools. I'm pretty sure it's just the spring and rubber seat that needs changing but I could be wrong." Opening up the cabinet under the sink, you pull out the supplies you need. Setting the items on the counter. "I can do this but there's one part I need help with." You turn the water off and start working on dismantling hot and cold water handles. 
"Don't you need some sleep?" 
"I have tonight and the next two days off." You see his quirked eyebrow. "What about you? Don't you have anything you need to be doing?"
"No." He really is trying to focus on your face but you're making it hard. Leaning over just so your butt on display. So badly he wants to follow the curve of it with his hands. But the mirror on the other hand is showing a perfect reflection of your tits. The baggy t-shirt is doing what it does, hang down. There's nothing else he wants to do than to roam your body and claim it.
You hear him take another deep breath and barely catch the ear twitch. “What?” 
“Nothing.” 
“Uh huh. Pull these valves straight up.” Pointing at the spots where the handles were you backup to give him some room. "That night we met, how did you feel about me? Before you knew all that stuff about my job." Staring him down you watch for any possible twitch or hitch in his breath, any sign that he might be lying.
"You're cute even with your resting bitch face. I was hoping we could hook up and keep seeing each other." It's odd that you ask him now about what he thought. The way you're staring at him makes it feel like he's being interrogated. 
"Why did you choose the name Sprinkles?" You know he picked that because you refused to be called Baby but Sprinkles is out there.
"Cause it's sweet, it comes in different colors and shapes. Gives things a whole new level of appreciation. Just like you."  
Astonished you don’t know what to say. It's making your brain short circuit that he put that much thought into a nickname when he only knew you for a few hours. The smirk he’s wearing just fuels the fire. 
"Wait here." Darting to the kitchen you quickly grab something. Fixing the sink is now on the back burner. You set the little step stool down in front of him. Stepping up you're now almost eye level. "Don't make me regret this."
"What-?"
Pulling him in by his shirt, you carefully kiss him before he can say anything else. Making sure not to bludgeon your face with his tusks.
"I really do like you. I wanted to make sure that was clear." Whispering it's a struggle to bring your eyes to his and you regret doing so. No response. Just a blank unfocused stare. Shit you read him wrong. Panicking you let go. Your hands have gone clammy and anxiety is spiking. How are you going to unfuck this? This is so embarrassing, you want to die now.
Plan B. Plan B. Abandon everything.
"I'm sorry I didn't mean-"
"That night. You turned me down. Why? I smelled you, you were interested." Growling, you’re starting to be wishy washy. Gripping you by the hips he holds you close, you're not going to try and escape. 
"Yeah I was but I didn't want to be another notch in your belt. I'm not interested in one night stands. I want a relationship." Struggling a little, his hands have you in a vice grip. 
"After everything that's happened? You're stuck with me." He starts chuckling. "As my girlfriend with no influence from Dorghu about it."
"Really?” 
"Yes." Chuckling he pulls you closer if that is even physically possible to whisper in your ear. "I also had quite the conversation with Charlie the other day. Well, she was yelling at me for not knowing things."
"Not knowing what?" Turning your head slightly, you're still able to feel his breath on your skin.
"Your love language." A massively warm hand slides slowly up your back. Making you weak, shaking you to the core.
"D-Did you figure yours out as well?" Stuttering you don't know if you're going to kill Charlie or not. 
"Words of affirmation and quality time. But physical touch isn't bad either." Giving a smug grin, he leans in for another kiss. Making sure to savor this one. 
"Are you assholes done yet? Some of us are trying to sleep." Charlie yells banging on your bedroom door. Jolting you in surprise. 
"It's my apartment." Rolling your eyes, speak of the devil. 
"Well I don't want to hear sex sounds!"
“She’s always interrupting us.” Hiding a laugh it's true. Any time he has tried to get anywhere near intimate with you, Charlie is there to interrupt. 
"Calling the kettle black."  Laughing, you ignore her and pull Ronnie back in. The sink can wait until tomorrow.
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sillyrabbit81 · 2 years
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☘️ So let’s call him Steve. I’ve known Steve since he was a teenager and he’s a slightly younger relative of my husband. For clarification my fella and I have been together for decades, he’s awesome and I’ve no interest in being with anyone else until the day I shuffle off this mortal coil.
So my husband and I are chatting about Steve and he’s showing me pictures of what Steve’s been up to. It hits me like a ton of bricks…holy shit…Steve is Irish Sy.
Irish Sy facts:
He’s in the Irish Army, has done a few stints in the middle east.
Is the youngest in a big family but is the only boy.
His family think of him as the quiet one but it’s not because he’s shy. He’s just always surrounded by women who barely pause to draw breath. When he’s in a smaller group and especially when he’s with other lads he’s full of chat and stories.
He’s super laid back as a person (and probably messed about a lot at school) but takes duty and responsibility really seriously. He exudes competence and dependability.
Is great with kids and is adored by his nephews. He grew up playing rugby. When he’s home he takes his nephews to rugby practice.
The kids drag him out in the dark to play “soldiers“ and he’ll oblige even when it’s fucking freezing outside and everyone else is warm in the house drinking and catching up.
He’s really tall. I’ve no idea how tall but he seems like a giant.
When their grandmother was alive he visited with her every day and drove her wherever she needed to go.
He sings and plays guitar and banjo.
Steve’s family live in an area where a lot of people have boats (but not in a we’re all loaded with money way. People almost have them in the same way you have cars. The extended family is massive and they share them). He grew up on boats and spent every summer living on them. His Dad is in the local lifeboat brigade. Steve has often taken my husband and I out on boats, sometimes just as a means of going into town to the pub. Sometimes a cruiser, sometimes a speedboat (and I’ve been shitting myself), sometimes it’s rubber dinghy with a motor (and I’ve been shitting myself).
He’s pretty tough and barely seems to notice small injuries. I once pointed out that he was bleeding when he was fixing some mechanical part of a boat. He looked surprised, licked off the blood and carried on.
He took some time out from the army and spent it working as a crew member on rich peoples yachts and ships. It took him all over the world. In the army his hair was always buzzed and he had to shave but when he was working on the ships he grew a bushy Sy beard and let his hair grow out a bit. There are photos of him working high up in ships rigging, looking like an absolute tank, hairier than he’s ever been in his life.
The man eats as if he has hollow legs. He and my husband will destroy a table of food like a plague of locusts decimating the land.
Steve is really funny. Despite being thought of as “the quiet one” the first time my mum met him she had to beg him to stop telling stories or she was going to pee herself. Her torso was in physical pain for days afterwards from laughing so hard.
I don’t think he works out a lot or goes to the gym. He’s just one of those fuckers that’s just blessed genetically and also has an active enough life doing what he does that he’s RIPPED.
Like I said I’m not interested in him at all. Even if I was single he wouldn’t be for me despite what it might sound like from what I’ve written above. I’m sharing because it really amused me when I realised how Sy like he is. I thought you might get a kick out of realising Irish Sy is out there.
☘️
Hey Anon,
Holy crap, he really does exude some serious Sy Vibes™️
He sounds like an amazing man. I totally get it when you say you aren't interested in him, I'm married too, but I do like to appreciate good men when they come into my life and he really does sound like a great one.
Thank you so much for sharing! Everyone who loves Sy should read this.
Feel free to send any updates my way. I absolutely love Sy in the wild stories.
❤️ Rabbit
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Just a little thing from a prompt I saw on Pinterest a couple days ago. Hope you like it, this is obviously a work of fiction (not because vampires aren't real, it's because i made the dynamics and character traits up in my head)
ENJOY...
“Stop being a pussy and just describe it to me, for fuck’s sake.” 
The one with dark eyes said exasperatedly. He kept moving the wine glass in his hands in circular movements as if he was wine-tasting. They were sloshed. To put it lightly. There was a storm out and their social battery was long out so they decided to have a quiet night in with some quality wine and shitty music. 
And, yes.
Vampires do have social batteries. And they do run out. I mean, can you blame them? They have been around far more than you have so try to imagine how bored they are of people of all kinds. 
“I am not to sit here and serenade you tonight Zaynie. No matter what insults you throw my way.”
Harry said, fixing the bright pink feather boa around his neck. “But how am I supposed to remember something from five centuries ago, would you enlighten me?” A tired voice was heard from his side. Zayn turned into a little baby when he was drunk, that was no surprise to Harry, though it was still hard to manage. Harry, on the other hand, acquired the attention span of a puppy, in an intoxicated state. 
“For God’s sake, piercing raven eyes with some dark brown hair, a stubble over bone structure that would give a man a heart attack on first sight, delicate frame, a posture that would get in the heads of many and that is it.” The latter finished with an edge, a little breathless from his mini-monologue. “Paired with a fashion sense that makes me want to puke.”
“Hey!”
A whine erupted from beside Harry, a light smack landing on his right arm from where Zayn was sitting. “You would fuck me in a hearbeat and you know it.” Raven eyes continued with a self-assured smirk on his face. At least that is what it was supposed to look like but hey, it is hard to plaster the exact expression you want on your face when you are wine-drunk.
“I mean… We would fuck for hours probably with both our staminas. So, yeah.” Harry said with a slight quirk to his brows. Which was in vain because they both knew it was never going to happen. They had approximately three hundred years to do that and still. Nothing. So, that boat sailed a long time ago for the boys. Now, they had too much love for each other to just reduce it to sex. 
Though Harry had to admit, Zayn was gorgeous. Any creature of any kind could see that. With their eyes closed. “You tell me mine, now.” Harry demanded after a few seconds of acknowledgement after his last statement. A low hum was heard from the other boy, indicating he was thinking. He was examining the almost empty wine glass in his and after an intake of breath he chugged the last remnants. 
“Princess hair, doe green eyes, a mouth that seems to only be able to sport either a cocky smirk or a child’s laughter, cute nose, and i refuse to talk about your dimples because they annoy me. You know the rest of your body, so that is it.” It was funny how Zayn very religiously refused to acknowledge Harry’s dimples because it was the first thing he said to him. Like ever. 
It all happened when Zayn first saw him in church. Fourteen-year-old Harry was not much different from the twenty four-year-old Harry in ways because both were irresistible. One happened to flash his chubby cheeks and dimples to everyone and the other had a glint in his eyes whenever he wanted to have something. So yeah, semantics. Anyways, Zayn was quickly trying to get out of the church but he accidently made eye contact with Harry, who didn’t hesitate to flash his deeper-than-black-holes dimples to him and the rest was history. 
“You know, my dimples were the fir–”
“I know, I know. You don’t have to remind me every time!” Zayn interrupted with an eye roll, almost seemingly hurting himself from the looks of it from how far he rolled them. Harry, on the other hand, giggled at his best friend’s reaction. 
“I will do so until I give my last breath.” Harry argued with a dramatic pout on his cherry lips, fixing his boa so that it would stop trying to choke him when he leaned his back to the sofa and closed his eyes. 
“Shh now.” Came a voice that was followed by similar movements of getting comfortable on the sofa. They finished their second bottle and now was time for them to nap a little. Yes, they didn’t need to sleep, certainly not as much as humans did but it was still okay to indulge in the beauties of the mortal world sometimes. 
Sue them.
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blubushie · 1 year
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GOOD MORNING BLU, LEAFANON HERE! GIVE US SOME MUSIC RECOMMENDATIONS!
So I typed up a whole response to this, hit undo by accident, and lost it all. Terribly sorry, leafanon. Let's try to do this over.
I HOPE YOU LIKE COUNTRY 'CAUSE BOY DO I HAVE A LOT OF IT.
First on this list is Luke Combs’ Where the Wild Things Are. I’ve been listening to his song on repeat for the past two days and I love it. It hits something in my heart I suppose? I can definitely relate to it. Not only does the verse “American Spirit hanging out of his mouth, just like our daddy” hit me because American Spirit (the blue pack) is my choice of cigarette when I’m in the States (and red Winnies in Oz), but my parents also wanted me to stay in California, so the verses “He kickstarted that bike one night and broke mama’s heart. He pointed that headlight west, out where the wild things are” really strike home with me because I absolutely did break their hearts when I left. This song is faintly hinted at in the upcoming Chapter 11, but blink and you’ll miss it!
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I also get emotional at the very end verses of the song, “We buried him out in the wind ‘neath the West Coast stars, out where the wild things are” because I want to be buried in Australia. I don’t want my body transported back to the States to waste away on some plot of land in a California cemetery and be forgotten about after a few generations. I want my ashes to be spread from the summit of Table Top at Kakadu, where the wild things are. Let the land remember me, because in a thousand years no one else will.
The next song is another Luke Combs song, You Found Yours.
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“Age of seventeen, you worked all summer long washing cars and pulling weeds from your neighbour’s lawn. Well, it wasn’t no King Ranch, but she was paid for. When you find that kinda freedom, buddy, you found yours.” Story of Matilda right there. I worked graveyard for two years to afford a hard-loved ’99 Ford ute. One year for the ute, and another year for the cabin plus some extra cash for stability. Dad helped me fix her up and I went east for six months, taking jobs out in New Mexico, Texas, and Oklahoma. Came back with my wanderlust worse than ever and got Matilda on the first boat out of San Francisco to Australia.
Next is Where I Find God by Larry Fleet. “That day out on the water, when the fish just wouldn’t bite, I put my pole down and I floated around. It was just so quiet. And I could hear my old man saying, ‘Son, just be still, ‘cause you can’t find peace like this in a bottle or a pill.’” Saying I sympathise with that is the understatement of the bloody century.
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Now for my favourite song (besides Waltzing Matilda) by my favourite bush bard! It’s Old Dingo by Slim Dusty!
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Little-known fact about me: I’m a part-time dogger. When someone has an issue with a particular individual or pack of dingos, I’m the bloke they have come out to take care of it. I only do this when all other management options have been exhausted. I don’t like shooting dingos, but sometimes it’s necessary, like coyotes.
“And because his tracks are frequent to the these paths and often seen, there’s a dogger and his bullet’s got your name… Oh, they watched his movements day and night until he came to water at the station bore beyond the coolabah. And as he raced for freedom a single shot rang out. Now he lays to rest beneath the desert stars.”
Sometimes I feel like the dogger. Sometimes I feel like the dingo. Either way, sometimes when I’m hunting from a far enough distance that I don’t have to worry about my prey hearing me, I’ll find myself humming this song under my breath while I’m waiting. “So run old dingo, watch your tail, keep your wits about you, never let your concentration slide. For the word’s out that they want you, and they’ll track you till you’re dead as long as there’s a bounty on your hide.”
The next song is my favourite song of all time and the song that should’ve been our national anthem if the pollies weren’t such fucking sooks about a bad image because if you ask me there’s nothing more Australian than lifting a sheep and throwing yourself into a billabong to drown when you’re caught because you’re going to die on your own bloody terms and no one else’s.
Ignore that the song is sung by Rolf Harris. We don’t claim the nonce but he’s got the best version of this song both because of the commentary, the excitement with which he sings it, and because you can hear the audience singing along with him.
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Some other great songs by Rolf Harris, as much as I hate to say it, are Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport (I sang this religiously as a kid and my teachers hated me) and Sun Arise, which I sometimes find myself singing in the early morning when I’m half-awake and making coffee.
I also love war songs, don’t ask why, reckon it’s the history aspect. The entire Remembrance album is great. It’s an album completely dedicated to World War 1, but The Green Fields of France strikes a chord with me that makes some deep sorrow well in my chest.
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“Did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind? In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined, and though you died back in 1916, to that loyal you’re forever nineteen? … And I can’t help but wonder, oh, Willie McBride, do all those who lie here know why they died? Did you really believe them when they told you the cause? Did you really believe that this war would end wars? Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame, the killing and dying, it was all done in vain. Oh, Willie McBride, it all happened again. And again, and again, and again, and again.”
The main song on that album that really hits me is And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda. The song starts off with a man relaying his life: “Now when I was a young man I carried me pack and I lived the free life of a rover. From the Murray’s green basin to the dusty Outback, well I waltzed my Matilda all over. Then in 1915 my country said, ‘Son, it’s time you stopped rambling, there’s work to be done.’ So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun, and they marched me away to the war.” Just from this we know he’s an Aussie bloke and if you know anything about the Australians in WWI you’re probably feeling an immediate concern. Maybe you’re hoping he’s sent to Europe to lay mines, but then you get the next verses: “And the band played Waltzing Matilda as the ship pulled away from the Quay, and amidst all the cheers, the flag-waving and tears, we sailed off for Gallipoli.”
And anyone who knows about what actually happened at Gallipoli knows just what’s in store for this poor bloke.
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Now for some folk songs! Moreton Bay is one I sing often as it’s very easy to remember and has a nice melody. This song also makes an appearance in Chapter 12. The Fields of Athenry is an Irish folk song, but the man it’s about, a lad named Michael, is sent to Botany Bay in Australia as a convict so I’m counting it as an Aussie song too!
Of course we also have some non-country/folk songs!
Back on the war songs, another great one is Khe Sanh by Cold Chisel about the repercussions of the Vietnam War on an Australian soldier. Many American vets have heard this song and strongly identify with it. Amazing how an Aussie band understands the American veteran mindset better than American bands at the time. (Don't even get me started on how the American populace treated soldiers returning from Vietnam.)
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Another song on that list is Redgum's I Was Only Nineteen. My dad loves this song despite not knowing any of the Australian locations, but he can name all the Vietnam ones. He gets that faraway look in his eyes when he listens to it. The verses "Frankie kicked a mine the day that mankind kicked the moon. God help me, he was going home in June" cracks something in my heart each time I hear it. My dad was in the Vietnam bush and they didn't even find out that MLK had been killed until over two weeks after it happened, and it was an immediate uproar amongst his men as there were black and white Marines in his company. After an hour the row quieted and then there was just mourning from everyone involved. Even the people who weren't well-versed in who MLK was (not that there was many) were mourning simply because their brothers in arms were mourning. There isn't race in the bush, no white or black or anything else. Everyone is green--the colour of the camouflage they wear.
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And lastly on a more upbeat note, how could anyone forget about the song that even people who haven’t heard Waltzing Matilda have heard and associate with Australia. The quintessential Aussie song! The one we play at international sport matches, the one we ANNOY THE FUCK OUT OF EVERYONE WITH when every fucking Aussie in attendance starts singing along to it, the one that causes a row of “AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE! OI OI OI!” in succession for five minutes after the song ends. The Aussie song: Down Under by Men at Work!
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I'm incredibly bonded with my cat, Sylvester. He's the cat that made me a cat person. He's a gorgeous tuxedo boy, and he's absolutely amazing. He sits on command for me, and follows me around like a puppy, and loves attention more than any animal I've ever met. He has the most comforting presence.
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We're losing him on Monday. He has a pretty agressive tumor, and with his other health issues (kidney disease, a heart murmur, the fact that he's about 13), there's nothing else we can do but keep him comfy. He was doing well for a while, but there's been a rapid decline since Thursday morning. I brought him in for an emergency steroid shot at the vet, and picked up mirtazapine and gabapentin for him, and we're keeping him as comfortable as possible.
Monday is also, coincidentally, his Gotcha Day. I know he was an adult when I brought him home, but it's so incredibly unfair that I only get 3 years with him. EXACTLY 3 years.
I feel like such a bad cat mom, because I can't fix this. I'm trying to make his last few days as easy for him as possible, and trying to ignore how much it's killing me that he's going to be leaving me in a little over 48 hours.
The heat is blasting, because he likes to nap on top of the toasty radiator cover in the downstairs office.
He loves The Grateful Dead, so even though I hate it, I'm blasting it while he naps on my lap for one of the last times.
I have a pile of cardboard boxes set up, because he likes to conquer a mountain of them and look down over his kingdom.
He's been trying to peek out the front door since we moved, so I held him and took a walk on the porch with him yesterday to give him a chance to look around at what he's been so curious about. It was way too windy for him, but he loves the fresh air and there was so much to see and smell and enjoy.
He's had kidney issues for over a year, so he hasn't been able to have any scraps of his favorite salty, meaty people food. I made him a ham last night and set him a plate at the table and let him go to town. He followed that up with leftover mac & cheese (idk why but he's tried to steal mac & cheese forever) and then some baby food before bed. Today, I'm making him chicken breast and he's getting some deli meat during lunch time, because that's his other favorite. He's had a whole string cheese to himself this morning. I'm not hungry at all, and he's literally the only reason I'm cooking 😂
I'm spoiling the hell out of him because he deserves it.
I already miss him chirping during Zoom meetings for work, telling the house that he caught his toy. A little stuffed boat, with a crinkly inner tube hanging off the back of it with a beat-to-death feather. My magnificent little hunter man. He's pretty quiet, except for when he's playing. When I first brought him home, I literally thought there was a bird in the house the first time he chirped - I had never heard a cat do that before.
He can be demanding about the attention that he wants. I don't want to think about how weird it's going to be to sit down on the couch and not have him bat things out of my hands and my lap to get into his little spot on top of my legs. Or have his little face right up in mine, spookily quiet but unblinking, in the morning because he wants his breakfast NOW mom. He won't yell at me to leave my office because he wants to be downstairs and he wants his mom down there too.
I've already cried a lot. I was already planning on restarting therapy, but with this happening now, it's higher on the priority list. I'm going to miss the fuck out of my little bear.
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