#i guess it's between me and the merchant now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pourcap · 5 months

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thoughts: kr chapter 15 (pt. 1)

'If they come this way—’ said Nikandros in a low voice. ‘Hey!’ Laurent called out. (...) i bet this will make nikandors love laurent even more :)

(...) Brief visions of strangling Laurent weren’t helpful. (...) damen is the best protagonist ever

(...) Damen judged the distance between himself and the nearest of the approaching soldiers, his chances of killing them, of killing enough of them to even the odds for the others. (...) also does damen's mind ever not immediately go this route? imagine constantly being so on edge because you feel like you have to fight and protect because that's all you've ever known, and because you're the best at it so everyone's survival depends on how quickly you eliminate threat. so exhausting.

(...) ‘You are Charls the renowned Veretian cloth merchant?’ said the officer sceptically, as if this was a name well known to him. ‘No,’ said Laurent, as if this was the most foolish thing in the world. ‘I am Charls the renowned Veretian cloth merchant. This is my assistant. Lamen.' ummmm. okay. 'as if it was the most foolish thing in the world' made me laugh. laurent's brashness lol. also i absolutely love how laurent just went for the ship name, which is of course veeery far off from damen's actual name so they totally won't risk being found out at all

'I don’t suppose your men could aid us in our repairs?’ said Laurent. Damen stared at him. They were encircled by fifty mounted Akielon soldiers. Jokaste was inside that wagon. no way that's why laurent stopped them. is he insane???? i can 100% picture the way damen's staring at him.

just remembered "it's the game i like" so i'm guessing this turn of event makes sense

The officer said, ‘We’re patrolling for Damianos of Akielos.’ ‘Who’s Damianos of Akielos?’ said Laurent. His face was utterly open, his blue eyes unblinking, upturned to the officer on his horse. ahhhhh!!! oh god. also i looove when laurent puts on this faux-innocent look he used so much in book one. it's just so amusing to me bc he's such an asshole and i mean this very lovingly

(...) Nikandros had the slightly stupefied look that Damen remembered from several of his own adventures with Laurent. (...) can you believe i'm getting emotional over this? because damen knows laurent now. because laurent is known. for probably the first time in his life except for by auguste he has someone who really actually genuinely knows him and appreciates him for the way his mind works. i just love laurent and damen so much <3

Damen followed him in, acutely aware that he was being separated from his men. Laurent simply walked into the inn. such an interesting nod to how damen feels more comfortable in the presence of his men (whether that's because he feels the need to protect them or because there's safety in numbers in general) whereas laurent had to rely on only himself for the past years

(...) Perhaps he could overwhelm Stavos. He could negotiate some kind of exchange, Stavos’s life for their freedom. his brain just won't stop omg. imagine constantly thinking about how to get out of situation that could end in your death (also imagine how intimidating damen must look to an outsider since he's basically just always coming up with battle plans in his head lol)

'I can assure you. Charls the renowned merchant is already here.' noooooooo

'That is impossible. Call him out here.' ohh the audacity. laurent can be such a prince

Charls took one look at the unmistakable blue eyes and blond hair of his Prince, who he had last seen in Damen’s lap dressed as a pet in a tavern at Nesson. His eyes widened. Then, with a truly heroic effort: ‘Charls!’ said Charls. hahhaaha no way. bless the real charls <3

they're all charls :')

'Thank you, Charls, this man believes I am the King of Akielos,’ said Laurent. god he's soooo annoying i love him so much

'An agent of the King when he has raised taxes and threatens to bankrupt the entire cloth industry?’ said Laurent. Damen put his eyes somewhere where they wouldn’t meet Laurent’s, (...) i repeat: he's so annoying and i love him so much. also a fed up damen is so funny to me

'You speak very good Akielon,’ he said, loudly and slowly. ‘Thank you,’ said Damen. ohh that reminds me of that scene in book one when laurent had damen drugged and this guy told damen that laurent had an eye for detail or something lol

'(...) Nikandros is completely useless as the Kyros,’ Laurent said, loudly enough for Nikandros to hear him. ‘He doesn’t know the first thing about cloth.' oh my god laurent stop antagonizing your boyfriend's best friend!!!

Damen looked over at Laurent, who was deep in conversation, letting his eyes pass slowly over every familiar feature, the cool expression tipped with gold in the firelight. He said, ‘Did he?’ ‘Charls said, think of the most expensive pet you’ve ever seen, then double it.’ ‘Really?’ said Damen. damen stop getting horny pt. 34972387

'Of course, Charls knew who he was right away, because he couldn’t hide his princely style, and nobility of spirit.’ ‘Of course,’ said Damen. hahahhahaha awww i love charls and i'm happy that in the future he'll have some new tales to tell about this moment right now

'Maybe you could encourage Akielons to wear sleeves. You’d sell more cloth,’ said Laurent. Everyone laughed politely at the joke, and then speculative looks crossed one or two faces, as if this young cousin of Charls’s might have stumbled by accident onto a good idea. you can always count on laurent to find a new way to be a nuisance to akielos <3

ahhhh did laurent push their mattress together to sleep next to damen????? i'm crying. sobbing, actually <3

they're kissing !!! i love them soooo much i can't even put it into words anymore, my heart just goes "!!!" every time they're close to each other

Laurent didn’t seem to care, even seemed to like it. Damen pressed him into the wall, and took his mouth. Laurent smelled of soap and fresh cotton. Damen’s thumbs pushed into his waist. laurent being turned on by damen's sweat... honestly if we got laurent's pov, he'd probably be just as intense about damen as damen is about him. they're truly a match made in heaven.

(...) They had not before had the luxury of extended lovemaking, deliberate and unhurried as a First Night. His thoughts ribboned with all the things they had yet to do. damen is such a softie!!! he's seriously just thinking about all the things he still wants to experience with laurent. he's so cute :')

(...) It was charming, because it was clear that Laurent was unsure exactly what to do, yet, typically, had acted to take control of everything. again: he knows laurent so well by now! i'm so emotional.

'First time to entertain a lover?’ Just saying the word made him flush, and he saw Laurent flush too. god. goooood. godddddd.

(...) He watched Laurent react to his body. Virgins and the inexperienced tended to get nervous, which he enjoyed as a challenge to be overcome, hesitancy turned into eagerness and pleasure. It pleased some deep part of him to see in Laurent the flickering of a similar reaction. (...) hmmmmm. :)))))))) i mean, he's wrong obviously, but i am super happy that laurent gets to experience sex with a good man who he finds attractive and who he likes and who is, on top of all that, great at sex <3

And dropped to his knees on the floor of the inn. i'm getting teary-eyed over a blowjob. seriously. i'm just so proud of laurent and of him taking initiative because he wants to do this with and for damen !!!!

that description of the contrast between laurent's internal struggle and practiced skill makes me sick

#i keep forgetting tumblr has a character limit now 😭#capri #captive prince #laurent #laurent of vere #damen #damen of akielos #damianos #damianos of akielos #lamen

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yostresswritinggirl · 1 year

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Pagtingin

"I'll just wait for the wind to sweep away my words."

Scaramouche/Wanderer x Fem!Reader.

Fluff; keeping your feelings secret; glimpses of Wanderer before he got his memories back; classic Scaramouche behavior; feel good story.

Heeey, @monicahar, guess I'm your secret santa uwu you know how much I love angst so know how I tried my very best to make this as fluff and kinda crack as you wished! I have FOUR retakes of this because I'm writing for the Scaramouche master writer (first one got rejected cuz it's quite angsty but I hope you liked it!)

"Mr. Sandman, sand me a saaand," you take a sighing pause, breathing in, and starting again. "Dendro archon, send me a siiiign -"

"What the hell are you singing about?"

"Wanderer!" And there he was in all his glory, arms crossed and stare full of judgment yet stuck to you as you stumbled across the room to reach the windowsill, opening the window to see that - yep, he's floating in mid-air.

The high rising moon behind him framed his ethereal form so beautifully, as if he was a messenger of Celestia ready to take you to the skies above.

You cough to your hand.

His squint lightens, descending to sit on the windowsill so you wouldn't have to crane your neck awkwardly to maintain eye contact.

"There's that Wanderer I know."

The sweet lost foreigner that first stepped foot into Sumeru City with eyes filled with innocent wonder. As a proud citizen and a strange sense of responsibility, you approached the then stranger for an impromptu tour around the humble place, something that he seemed to have needed desperately.

You still remember when he asked about where the sunsettias and harra fruits could be found, in case his employer needed to restock his stall. Of all the beauty that no other nation could compare, he wanted to know where the fruits are.

Safe to say your sudden guffaw had him spooked for a bit, but are you really to blame for how adorable he is for being so new to the world like he is?

It was a nice surprise too when you stumbled upon his fabled stall in the Grand Bazaar one day while he was tending to customers, flustered from the rush hour and his lack of training. Despite not needing it, you willed yourself to buy a watermelon just to talk to him again and give him a better customer service experience.

"Thank you for your purchase - ah, and come again sometime!"

You had to eat watermelon slices for a week because of that impulse buy, but his shy smile was worth the diet change.

But then his overall demeanor changed when you found an anemo vision hanging near his chest, at the same day that he left his merchant work with a blonde traveler. The Wanderer you knew didn't glare like that, talk like that, act like that. It was so quiet between you two, and it felt like he was sizing you up, unsure what to do with you.

"Hey!" His indigo eyes watched you place your hands on your hips with an annoyed huff. "You can't act like this just cuz you got a vision now, getting one doesn't mean you have to change up on me. We're friends still!"

And while his huff and eye roll are baffling to see on your sweet Wanderer, you can't deny his smirk suits him perfectly.

"Look who's the lonely one now." He clicks his tongue, mockingly, yet there were no apparent venom in his words. Back when he asked why you were hanging around him, you told him that he looked lonely too.

("Why are you doing all this? For me? Someone who's -" his Adam's apple bobbed so harshly as he gulped. "A stranger." The way he said those words sounded strangely strained.

"I just thought you looked quite lonely," you settled with no double meanings or deep words those scholars in the Akademiya tend to use. There's no need to beat around the bush with him. Leaning over your stall, you dipped your head under his hat to level his gaze more clearly. "Lonely and a lil confused, like you needed a friend.")

"Yeah, I missed you." He's always seemed like the type of person who wants the blatant truth.

"I -" And his actions had always been honest with you. What with the way he paused and avoided your stare, how he turns his head away and tilt his hat down to hide the expressions he's making. Perhaps your honesty doesn't just come from his preferences. "I suppose that's expected what with you being locked up here for - what? Eight days?"

"Almost nine." Heaving another sigh, your arms hang over the platform as you slump on the spot next to him.

Stuck in your dormitory room because of a flu you caught while out collecting data. While it's not life-threatening for anyone whatsoever, it's still contagious enough for the Akademiya to force you to self isolation until you got better. You haven't had contact with others in days, at least, that's what the Akademiya knows.

Wanderer stares at you with a look that screams out 'why the hell are you looking at me like that?' as you feel a smile force its way to your face, unable to hide it even from him. How could you when the man in front of you, no matter how many times you warned not to get close because of your flu, would only scoff about how ironic it was that you're the one saying those words.

You're thankful that he's confident of his immune system to keep visiting you like this.

He didn't have to visit every day the hour before your assigned bed time, but he's always here on the dot.

Despite the sudden change, Wanderer is still just as easy to read no matter how hard he tries not to be.

"Right, I almost forgot." You watch as he pulled out something wrapped in a beautiful blue furoshiki, the sweet smell already betraying the surprise before he unwraps the baklava for you. "You asked for some yesterday and I didn't want you to whine again."

"Pastries! Oh I love you so much!"

He can remember it so clearly that he could recreate every frame of the scene: The overwhelming feeling in his chest with the tightness in his throat, him opening his mouth before pressing his lips together before the first word could even come out.

Wanderer felt physical pain from the battle in his mind while you happily indulge in the pastry, blissfully unaware of the things you do to him.

Why was he here again after he got his memories back? Why does he keep coming back to this student that showed him around the city when he first arrived?

Lesser Lord Kusanali proposed to keep this connection instead of wallowing in self pity now that the world has forgotten him (that was his own doing), yet it was something that locked him in ball and chain despite having the conscious mind to get away.

Yet the way you immediately turn to him with an amused smile, "Something on your mind?" Easily defeated the clashing virtues debating in his mind. "You want a baklava?"

There was a pained expression on his face as he clutched his hand over his chest, he knows you've seen it no matter how he tried not to look like it. The Wanderer had always been so honest with you that's true, because it was so easy to just be him with you.

But that's not really him, is it?

Puppets like him don't need to breathe.

Yet at that time, perhaps Nahida was right that there really wasn't any difference between a human and a puppet.

"Do you think I deserve a second chance?" He let slip in front of the archon one day when his thoughts raged like the fires of a faraway furnace, too slow to bite his tongue and too frustrated to cover up with a 'forget it.'

Nahida, in contrast, takes time to think things through and watch his body language. From the way he avoids her stare and how his crossed arms looked more defensive of a different insecurity. The god of wisdom doesn't need to read minds to know this is an entirely different case.

"Let's put it this way, what's stopping you from thinking you don't deserve it?" Deserve her, more like.

And his old self would have said nothing, that he deserves everything he desires for all the efforts he had done to get to where he is now. But he's better than that now, no, he's better than that because of you.

Why must he be awkward around you?

Why must he be so hang up on every detail about him and you?

Why must he be so insecure of who he is and who you are?

"Because I'm not human," yet he uttered those words as if he was baffled by his own answer, eyes wide with confusion as he clutched his head. "Yet these days I feel like I'm one."

He practically all but shoved the poor pastry into his mouth, biting down with just a little too much force than intended. Fuck, he hates sweet things!

And so the puppet known as a human does his best to ignore your snickers with how his face contorts into irritation and disgust as the layers melt stickily in his mouth. Oh, he hates you, hates how much he loves you.

He hopes you don't blame him, it's hard to take a gamble with the only chance he's ever getting.

"How's your research going?"

"My proposal is ready, when I'm out of here, I wanna try and get funding to go conduct research in the desert."

"Mhm."

"Then I'll take you with me and tour you there too, I promise the views are worth it!"

"Alright, I'll hold you to it."

So for now, he will keep his peace until he's ready. He only hopes that when he confess his secrets, your opinion of him won't change.

He only hopes... when he reveals his feelings, your opinion of him won't change.

Maybe tomorrow, you'll be his. He can only hope.

This is loosely based on a song called Pagtingin, with English translations here! That's the vibe I'm going for where the singer is hesitating to confess his feelings because he's afraid that the person he loves would treat/see him differently if they don't share the same feelings.

Tagging: @maehemthemisfit @ireallylikehamsters @chuusposts

#gixrsecretsanta2022 #monicahar #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #exile.flower #genshin impact fluff #sumeru arc #fem reader

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karniss-bg3 · 7 months

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With all the talks about Kar'niss as a bard, I was wondering if you could write something with Tav and Kar'niss dancing together? (though I guess given how tall Kar'niss is, it might be difficult)

The air was thick with the aroma of burning wood from the nearby campfire. A blanket of stars spanned across the sky, twinkling from a far off distance. Tav had broken away from the group for some quiet time, wandering toward a nearby stream so they could bask in the crisp night air. Once they settled on the shore near the forest line they pulled out their violin from it’s case. They took time to tune the instrument, desiring a moment to play a pleasant tune for their pleasure. Tav sensed eyes on him from the nearby treeline, their head turning to see the familiar silhouette of a drider lingering between two trees.

“You’re welcome to join me if you’d like. I’m not opposed to the company,” Tav said.

Kar’niss froze once he realized he had been spotted, his hands clasped together to rub them in a nervous fashion. He emerged from the underbrush and wandered over to where Tav was seated, maintaining a small measure of distance.

“What are they doing?” Kar’niss asked, peering over their shoulder at the violin.

“Taking a moment while we have it. I haven’t had the chance to play for a bit, now seemed like a good time. Do you play any instruments?”

Kar’niss’ brows knit, mulling the question over. “We...used to. Don’t anymore.”

“Oh?” Tav perked up, interest piqued. “What instrument?”

“Violin, flute at times. Long time ago, doesn’t matter now.” Kar’niss waved a hand dismissively, turning his face away from Tav.

“Well, would you like to with me? A duet sounds fun. We have an extra violin in camp.”

Kar’niss scoffed and reared his head back as if insulted. “We cannot play anymore. We would ruin your music with our screeching.” Tav chuckled while pushing themselves up to stand. “I doubt that. Just give it a try. If you hate it then you aren’t obligated to continue. Please?” Tav leaned forward and boldly bat their eyelashes at the hesitant drider.

His cheeks puffed out with indignation. “Are they mocking us?”

“No, not at all. I’d just like to try something with you, that’s all.”

He growled under his breath, tapping a single leg against the ground while considering the proposal. “...Fine. One song only. If the instrument breaks it is not my problem.”

“Wonderful! I’d not worry much about the violin honestly. I think Astarion stole it from some merchant or another, won’t be much of a loss if it snaps. I’ll be back!”

Kar’niss watched Tav scurry back to camp to retrieve the item. He crossed his arms tight against his chest, his pedipalps trembled in place, betraying his anxiety for the performance soon to come. He’d not have to wait long. Tav had been swift in their retrieval of the instrument, they ran up to Kar’niss and held it up for him to take.

“Phew, there you go,” Tav panted, wiping a bit of sweat from their brow.

He lifted the violin and bowstring into his clawed hands, looking over each piece as if he’d been reunited with an old friend. It felt strange in his grasp and the jagged nature of his fingertips made either item a challenge to grip. Tav stood back and let him become adjusted to them, watching as he plucked a few strings to test their muted chords in succession. His nose wrinkled with some concern.

“What is it you wish to play?” Kar’niss asked.

“Have you heard of the waltz of the feywilds? It’s a bit complicated but it is one of my favorite songs.”

Kar’niss squinted and mulled over the request, his tongue darting out to swipe over his lips. “We are not certain. The title sounds familiar, it has been too long since I have played it.”

“Tell you what. I’ll start playing solo and if you catch the rhythm feel free to jump in as you wish. How does that sound?”

He hummed and nodded. “Very well.”

[Music]

Tav tucked the butt of the violin under their chin and rested the bow over the strings, straightening their posture. Kar’niss mirrored this, relearning the proper stance. It was a bit awkward as his chin now had an extra layer molded over top via the hardened chitin but he managed to adjust well enough. Tav positioned their fingers over the proper strings on the violin neck and began to play, a gentle melody rising from the instrument into the night air.

Kar’niss closed his eyes as Tav began to play, opting to focus with his pointed ears rather than his sight. He listened to the first notes of the song and honed in on it, digging deep into the recesses of his memory in search of something he’s heard before. It took him a moment but he soon willed himself to play the first note, sliding into Tav’s solo to turn it into a duet. At first he struggled, his fingers larger than he was accustomed to which made hitting the right strings a struggle. He’d strike off key or hold a note for longer than it was meant to be but Tav didn’t seem to mind.

“You’re doing great, keep going,” Tav insisted.

He exhaled his nerves and stuck with it even if he felt the urge to drop the violin and walk away. Steadily, he became accustomed to the added bulk of his chin and fingers, shifting the instrument in such a way that it worked for him rather than against. Once he did so the notes flowed smoother, in line with Tav’s own contribution. This made Tav smile, their body bobbing up and down on their knees once the music started to hit their core.

Their playing continued, gradually picking up pace into an uplifting harmony. Even for as stiff as Kar’niss could be he felt the draw of the music seep into his skin, pulling him back to a different time in his life. As his comfort levels grew his confidence in manipulating the instrument to his will increased, playing with a bit more passion than at the start. Despite his best efforts he found himself swaying from side to side in time with the beat, his long legs curled while rocking his large body like a pendulum. Tav took notice, unable to wipe the growing grin from their face. They chose to join him by shuffling their feet on the grass below, stepping from side to side to match Kar’niss’ rhythm.

He tipped his head to the side slightly at the sight of the display, deciding to up the ante a notch. He lowered his front half toward the ground, extending his pedipalps to drum against the dirt when he felt added percussion was needed for the melody. Tav unleashed joyful laughter due to Kar’niss’ improvised antics, finding them clever. They stepped forward and began to dance around the drider while he tapped at the ground, spinning and skipping around his impressive abdomen, soon returning to his front. All the while the two continued to play, their song growing in intensity as they progressed.

Kar’niss had become lost in the duet, the faintest of smiles threatening to stretch his mouth. The ballad increased in pace and came to a high pitched mid point, the pair putting their all into assaulting the strings with determined ferocity. Kar’niss closed all of his eyes and tipped his head back, matching Tav tit for tat. Once the mid point had passed they would side step to and fro while facing one another, Tav spinning around in place and Kar’niss following suit. Albeit his turn was slower thanks to his extra girth, but he still managed to do so with grace. Tav stepped toward their partner and Kar’niss stepped in to meet them before both walked back to restore distance between them. His legs stamped at the ground in sync with the anthem, his torso bending into the violin as he leaned into the more fast paced tone. His rounded abdomen swayed and rocked concurrently with his legs, putting his entire body in motion.

Both continued to prance from one side to the next in unison with one another, turning around in place at proper intervals, lowering their bodies into a crouch then springing upright. The smile Kar’niss had fought came out victorious, fully visible on his expression. It was a toothy grin that was both endearing and haunting at the same time. Despite his impressive size Tav wasn’t intimidated with his dance partner, rather savoring his enjoyment knowing how rare such a treat was for him.

The pair were reaching the crescendo of their song, the very apex building in urgency between the pair of them. As the final elongated note was shared between them, Kar’niss lifted his body upward while he held the high pitched sound, pushing until he was balancing on his back four feet. The other four extended outward alongside his pedipalps, opening wide as if he were in a defensive stance and yet that was far from the case. He tipped his torso back until his hair fell from his shoulders and dangled freely in the air, Tav watching the display in awe of his beauty in that moment.

The lengthy note was dropped, the final chords played afterward in rapid succession to end off the song with a flourish. Both Tav and Kar’niss played the final refrain in a quick strike and once finished they dropped into a low bow in front of one another. Their arms extended outward, bow string and violin clutched in either hand jutting from their grasp. They held the lowered position for a moment to catch their breath, Tav the first to lift their head to find they were eye level with Kar’niss; A rare thing indeed. Their gazes met, the drider offering the smallest of smiles in Tav’s direction, his hair a mess across his face.

“You did it,” Tav whispered.

Before Kar’niss could respond the pair heard the sound of clapping nearby. Tav stood with a jolt, looking behind them to see others at camp had gathered around. Wyll in particular seemed enthused by the performance.

“Well done, well done!” Wyll called out.

“Got an encore in you??” Karlach shouted.

Tav smiled sheepishly at the pair and shook their head. “I doubt it, but glad you enjoyed it.”

Kar’niss made a face at the unexpected audience. He dropped the bow and violin, backing away as he felt a tingle in his cheeks.

“Kar’niss, are you alright?” Tav asked.

The drider growled ever so slightly and then turned, quickly scuttling away from Tav and the others. He fled back into the underbrush of the forest and disappeared from sight, having none of it.

“Ah shit, did we scare him off?” Karlach asked.

“We’re sorry Tav, we didn’t think it’d be a bother.” Wyll added.

Tav exhaled and wandered over to retrieve the discarded instrument, looking it over with some fondness.

“No, nothing to be sorry for. I think he is a bit more shy than he lets on. Give him time, he’ll return when he’s ready.”

Kar’niss wandered back into the forest and climbed into the tree he picked to call home for the night, complete with scattered webbing throughout the area. He’d settle on a thick branch, his arms crossed as he worked through his temporary embarrassment. Part of him was still in disbelief that he’d done that at all, that he still could. The feeling of an instrument in his hands felt better than he dared admit aloud. Once he started to calm down he turned his gaze to the stars, a sight he often favored while alone. The tips of his pedipalps began to gently tap at the branch below, one, two, one, two. He bobbed his head from side to side and before he knew it he was humming the song they had just played. He continued to do so while training his eyes on the sky, his wobbled smile making a return.

For now at least.

#baldur's gate 3 #kar'niss #drider #bg3 #karniss #baldurs gate 3 #answered #my writing #bard #music #violin #kar'niss fanfic #bg3 fanfic #kar'niss x tav #gender-neutral tav #This was a challenge but fun to write #Kar'niss is 80% legs

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kabie-whump · 1 month

Text

CYOA Whump Part 15

First | Previous

You chose: Raiding a merchant ship that's too fast for other ships to catch.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

"Ventis, watch out!"

Everything is still fuzzy from spending so long with your consciousness embedded in the wind currents. You can see and hear all the chaos around you, but it's like you're moving and thinking in slow motion.

Onthyes grabs you and yanks you to the side as an arrow wizzes past your face. You blink slowly at him. With a frusterated sigh, Onthyes effortlessly scoops you into his arms.

"Hey," you mumble sleepily. Your attempt to shove at his chest ends up as nothing but a weak thump against firm muscle shielded by sun-warmed fabric. "Put me down."

He ignores you, running towards the door that heads below deck. You almost make it unharmed.

There's a clear cry of pain from the other ship. Onthyes stops, turning to see Hildris, his halfling friend, being cornered by some soldiers. She's backed against the railing and clutching a bleeding wound in her side.

You can feel how badly Onthyes wants to run to her aid. He hesitates by the door, feet frozen in place. You say nothing.

Then another wizz of an arrow, and pain explodes in your shoulder. You cry out, suddenly back to full awareness.

"No," Onthyes hisses as he carries you inside. He sets you down in a dimly lit passegeway, staring wide eyed at the arrow sticking out of your shoulder. "Shit. I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

You squeeze your eyes closed, trying to control your gasps for air. "It hurts," you growl.

"I know. I'm sorry."

He pulls a knife from his belt, carefully cutting away the fabric of your sleeve to get a better look at the wound.

"I have some healing experience. I'll take care of you, okay? Just try to breathe."

You nod, focusing most of your energy into not bursting into tears. The pain comes in viscous waves, throbbing through your whole body.

The only sounds are yours and Onthyes's heavy breathing, accompanied by the occasional yells or cannon booms from outside, as Onthyes examines your shoulder.

"I have to take it out," he says softly, apologetically.

You can't help but let out a whimper. "It can't just stay there?"

"I'm afraid not."

Your head thumps back against the wooden wall. "Fuuuck. Fine. Do it fast."

With a short nod Onthyes positions himself so he's pinning you to the wall with one knee. He gets your muzzle out of his pocket and offers it with a raised eyebrow.

You glare at him, but you understand what he means. You'll need to bite down on something, and the rubber piece on the inside that fits between your teeth when you're wearing it would do the job nicely. Sighing, you let him muzzle you.

"I'll take it off when I'm done," he promises. "Now try not to move. I'm going to be as gentle as I can but you have to stay still for me."

You nod, looking anywhere but at him as he cleans his knife.

Your vision goes white when he starts working the arrow out of your shoulder. Your screams are muffled by the muzzle. You can't help but squirm and flinch away, your legs kicking out ueslessly, and Onthyes's knee pins your chest down hard. Your bruised ribs ache.

His blade digs deep into your skin, working around the arrowhead so he can pull it out without causing any more damage. He whispers apologies the whole time but you can bearly hear him over the roaring in your ears.

Finally he drops the knife and grabs hold of the arrow, bracing one hand on your shoulder. He pulls hard, and you black out.

When you come to he's kneeling in front of you, his eyes full of worry as he removes the muzzle. There's fabric wadded up and tied to the hole in your shoulder.

"There you are," he says. "That's better, isn't it?"

It still hurts, but at least there isn't anything sticking out of you anymore. "Yes. Thank you."

He settles between you and the door, his back against the wall. You can tell he's anxious, listening to every yell from outside closely. "Now we wait, I guess. It's weird, I'm not used to sitting around while my friends fight."

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

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concussed-to-pieces · 8 months

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Wolves At The Door; Part Three

Fandom: Resident Evil [Village]

Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: "No." You whispered, your hold on the knife’s hilt tightening. "No, I-I don't want you to come any nearer."

A/N: FIGHT SCENE FIGHT SCENE! I'd like to thank you all for reading thus far, you're The Best <3 I will be taking a small break after this, due to a vacation. I'll see you all on the 11th! Enjoy!

Tag List: @spoopyredacted @cookiethewriter @amneris21 @topgirl17 @vodkafolie @stargazerofgoldenwords @a-smol-witch @baby-lisuga @clockworkmidnight @calwitch @silver-quinn01 @velvet-paradox @hijackser @mrs-wolfwood @nonstop-haikyuu @mic-sunderland @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fullofmoonsandstars @thirstworldproblemss @karlskitten @imthegreenfairy86 @nitrogennightmare @chunnies

Prelude

Part One

Part Two

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, gratuitous violence and graphic depictions of mental and physical duress. Stay safe!]

"You will regret this." The Duke warned him, his smile vanishing at Heisenberg's demand.

"I don't care," Karl insisted, his fingers still twisted into the larger man's shirt collar. "I can't keep going on like this, not without knowing if I'm-" broken a danger bad person "--if I'm someone who would…do something I shouldn't."

The merchant, for whatever reason, insisted on continuing, "This will not endear you to them, my Lord."

"I don't know why the hell you think I'm doing this for them!" Heisenberg snapped angrily. "I'm tired of not fucking knowing what I'm–I just feel like I'm always waiting, anticipating something awful. I've had enough."

A large finger landed between his brows, the Duke bearing an uncharacteristically serious expression. "I am sorry for this, Lord Heisenberg."

Darkness overcame Karl then, as well as a chill like the sun had been suddenly switched off.

…

"Mr. Duke! It's good to see you. I wasn't sure if you were alright, it's been so long since you've come by!" You exclaimed, still wiping your hands dry with an old towel as you made your way to the fenceline. "You'll have to fill me in."

The Duke, for his part, looked unchanged. A bit more sweaty perhaps, but that could be chalked up to the rigors of just existing in such a unique body. You saw his eyes dart to your houseguest and you got the sudden impression that you may have interrupted something. The large man staunchly denied this when you asked though, his laugh just as jovial as always. Maybe you had misinterpreted the situation?

If looks could kill, however, it seemed the Duke would be quite done for. Karl was glaring holes through the merchant, striking green eyes narrowed to angry slits. That look alone could make anyone nervous!

"I noticed my talismans have gone missing, my dear. Has something happened?" The Duke's inquiry was smooth, almost bland.

"They just started crumbling one day. I guess the elements finally got to them?"

The Duke's expression shifted strangely and once again his eyes darted to Heisenberg. But all he said was, "how curious," then started rummaging in the drawers that framed his corpulent form.

"I'm sorry, I don't have-"

"I told you," the Duke interrupted, his smile a bit sharper, "it's all part of our first-class customer service!" He gestured vaguely with one large hand, placing the small bundles of herbs and flowers down on his thigh. "If nothing else, take these as my thanks for nursing the Lord back to health. He certainly seems a changed man from when we last met." You heard Karl growl, muttering something under his breath that made the Duke chuckle coldly. "Now now, let's not say things we don't mean. I'm being sincere! I am glad you and the Lord Heisenberg are on such good terms. Why, he's almost tame."

…

There had been a great shattering, a terrible rending in his mind the likes of which he had never experienced before. The stress and mania that had driven him doggedly onward collapsed in upon itself after Ethan's final assault, as though the strain of both his transformation and the fight was too much for his body and mind to handle. Karl could just barely recall feeling himself fraying, his soul being torn apart at the seams like he was an ugly garment in the hands of the world's most negligent tailor.

Miranda would love that. Let that bitch pick out every stitch so she could make me into something useful, something controllable.

Maybe it was that bitterness that kept him breathing. Bitter spite and hatred, a parasitic leech just as much as the creature that throbbed uneasily in his gut. Cadou, finally a name for the feeling, the tension, the parasite that clung to his broken body and demanded him to rise, demanded him to fight and kill anew to keep it alive. Karl was exactly what he had feared and suspected all along: a freak.

While the Duke sat there complacent, chuckling, Heisenberg could only seethe internally. The obese merchant finally leaned forward, his smile distinctly oily. "I'd advise the two of you to turn in early for the evening. A storm is coming."

"Thanks for the tip." Heisenberg said through gritted teeth.

"Do you have anything new to show me?" The excitement in your voice threw Karl off a bit, as did the Duke's smirking reply of, "Naturally, my dear!"

Apparently it had been a busy few months for the merchant, because he immediately started pulling out (allegedly) new trinkets to show you. Each item he proudly displayed, however, set Heisenberg more and more on edge. Crystalline objects, fragile and frail, covered in sharp edges and scenting the air lightly with decay. Something about them had that wrongness, that Uncanny Valley sheen, as well as a hideous familiarity.

Finally Karl said faintly, "I'm going to head back in." His head was swimming, mind struggling to sort through lifetimes of memories and it felt like his entire body was throbbing with his pulse. "You two have fun catching up."

"But my Lord-" the Duke protested, extending the protective talismans to Karl with a guileless expression. "-I had hoped you would hang these along the fenceline for me. I would do it myself, of course, but it's been so long since I've had a customer to show my wares." His eyes twinkled with the silent joke; he knew damn well that touching those things was bad news for Karl. Go on, big man, the Duke's smug gaze seemed to say, go on and reveal yourself.

Karl's glare reached a nuclear temperature, his mood rapidly swinging from discomfort to infuriation at being toyed with. This colossal fuck knew exactly what he was capable of! As usual, the Duke's audacity was exclusively outweighed by his mass.

But you were smiling, you looked so excited to see what else the Duke would show you.

Damn it all to hell.

Karl dug around in the pocket of his jacket, pulling out his gloves and gracelessly yanking them on before holding out a hand to take the charms.

The Duke's smile never wavered once.

…

"It is odd, seeing the change in him." The Duke commented, turning a human torso that may have been carved from quartz this way and that to show you how the light caught it. "You certainly did more than your share of work, my dear."

"I don't understand." You replied, a little confused. "It hasn't been too hard. Only issue was keeping bread in the house."

"Can we claim his essence restored by mere gluten?" The Duke fixed you with a look that made you uncomfortable, his normally good-natured expression gone serious. "I doubt that, but I am open to breakthroughs in science."

"Do you mean I helped raise his spirits or something?" When the obese man shook his head, you shrugged. "I haven't really done much except put that gunk that you gave me onto his wounds and endured his company. If anything he's been helping me out! Got to get a few things done that I couldn't manage myself."

"Very curious," the Duke mused, his attention seeming to have moved on to the odd combination of gears and crystals that he was currently showing you. It looked almost like a half-metal heart encased in white crystal and you marveled at the craftsmanship of it. "Lord Heisenberg has allowed himself to be domesticated. The Lady Dimitrescu would have a fit if she were still around."

His words didn't register until a moment later, making your brow furrow. Unfortunately the large merchant didn't appear to be in an expansive mood, whatever further queries you had being easily deflected or outright ignored.

…

Miranda.

Karl tried to focus on something aside from the fact that his entire left hand was going numb.

The constant fury he felt at that self-styled mother's attempted manipulation of him would do, so he began to reminisce. Though his mind was not entirely whole, Heisenberg could still remember his disdain for the haughty woman. She had always looked at him with such blatant calculation in her eyes; he had to commend her for the consistency of that gaze. Karl wondered sometimes if she practiced it in front of the mirror. How his ‘siblings’ had never seen her manipulation…

"Sore loser," his own voice echoed back to him through his memories and he scoffed, yanking the knot tight on the twine. Another charm secure. The little talismans were made of monkshood and nondescript twigs of some evergreen plant, all braided together with a few stalks of what seemed to be wheat and then fashioned into a tidy wreath. The numbness in his hand vanished once he released the charm, now replaced by an unpleasant burning. He could see spidery black tendrils making their way up his arm from beneath the glove, following the path of his veins to spread that burning sensation. Aside from that, though, Karl felt nothing. Was his fury truly slow to come, or did he just not care anymore?

He slowed to a halt, resting his weight on the fence as he stared down at it. He almost wanted to will himself to be upset, get worked up, something for the sake of familiarity. This calm…acceptance, it didn't seem like him. The Duke had said Miranda was 'taken care of'. No doubt Ethan had fistfought the feathery bitch himself.

Dimitrescu, then, Karl decided, she could always piss me off, that colossal cunt. The anger was so faint it was barely annoyance. The weird little doll? Indifference. Moreau. Pity.

Pity?!

Was his throat closing up?! He was either flashing over or having some sort of allergic reaction to the talismans, he reasoned desperately. That was the only explanation for his strange response. Heisenberg pulled away from the fence, taking a few healthy steps backwards. He abruptly felt the hairs raise on the back of his neck and the Lord reached out to grab the maul, realizing at that moment that he had left it by the cart. Come on!

A body crashed into his back and Karl almost toppled, only just managing to brace himself on a fencepost. Sharp teeth grazed his arm, the combined scent of wet dog and iron nearly strong enough to make Heisenberg retch. Without a second thought Karl yanked the charm off the post and jammed his entire fist into the thing's mouth, hearing it start to choke and gag right next to his ear.

The maul arrived, flying through the air like the weapon of some old Norse god. Karl seized it with his free hand, swinging it around to pulverize the…lycan, lycan, shit, he had forgotten. Its skull caved beneath the maul's blunted edge and Heisenberg quickly shoved the body to the side as it twitched its last.

There were more of them. A lot more of them, a pack of mangled humanoids spilling out from beneath the trees to yowl and bay at him. The body at his feet began to crystallize, the familiar scent of death wafting up to greet him like an old friend. Memories started to bleed in at the sides of his vision: dark, wispy vignettes of the man he was, the monster he really was.

I think bare minimum I've done some real bad things.

He had been so desperate for reassurance without even knowing why, groping unlit through the halls of his memories as a stranger. It had been better for a while, what was shoved into the back of his mind to let him play fucking pretend at being human, at this new life with you.

Just like Miranda with her fake little family.

Heisenberg drew himself up to his full height, narrowing his eyes and roaring "shut your fucking holes!", immensely gratified when the cacophony immediately quieted.

Unfortunately, the uneasy silence was then broken by a scream. A scream of his name. And the lycans, obviously sensing Karl's momentary distraction, peeled away to head for the source of the noise.

…

"Karl!" You cried, the terrible din you had heard seconds before still ringing in your ears.

"Oh dear," the Duke remarked blithely, "I may have been too late." He shrugged after a moment, passing you another charm. "Well, I hurried as best as I could." The massive merchant then clicked his tongue once and the seemingly too-small horse began to pull the cart down the road once more. "Good luck, my dear. Remember what I said about the weather!" He called with a wave.

"You've gotta' be kidding me!" You yelled after him incredulously, the talisman clutched tightly in your grasp. All you heard in reply was faint chuckling. You gritted your teeth, turning on your heel. "Karl!" You shouted again, starting across the yard. You could hear muffled yowling coming from behind the cabin, out past the back fenceline, so with your heart in your throat you carried onward. You hoped and prayed it was just a bobcat that Karl had spooked, you're overreacting, everything is fine. You did make a brief pit stop to pick up your kindling knife from the basket on the porch, staunchly refusing to think about what you could possibly need it for.

Upon turning the corner of the house, however, you came face to face with some…thing, some awful thing with sharp teeth and a hunched humanoid body. You froze and so did it, before it bared its filthy, blackened maw and snarled at you.

Oh, it's going to kill me. The thought was so certain it almost surprised you. Really, what else could happen? Fuck, it's going to kill me. You backed away, holding the knife in front of you in a desperate bid to keep the creature at bay. For some reason it actually seemed to be working, the weird wolf-man snapping its teeth at the air in evident frustration. Well, it was either that or the Duke's charm that you had slipped around your wrist, but you weren't about to start questioning your luck.

A projectile whipped past your head from behind you, the mass of it disturbing the air enough to emit a faint whistle. It was the maul, its dull blade slamming into the face of the lycan and bending it nearly in half before it collapsed like a deflating balloon.

"You stay the hell away from them, you mangy rat!" Karl spat, his gaze full of fury as he rounded the house coming from the other direction. It may not have been aimed at you, but his rage was still absolutely terrifying to witness. Your knees began to tremble, threatening to dump you onto the ground. Heisenberg suddenly seemed larger than life and extremely dangerous, voice booming and eyes ablaze with a malice you had never seen. The man tore the maul free with a sickening crunch, shaking some of the gore off. "You alright?"

You realized he was addressing you, still coming closer at that too-fast pace and you floundered to nod, opening your mouth to say something, yes I'm fine and don't come near me you're scaring me and what's going on. No words came out, though. When had he gotten so big? It was as though someone else had taken over his body, someone self-assured, someone…

Was this how he had been before?

Karl stopped dead two feet away, the man huffing out an irritated breath. "Oh, you've got one of those charms." He slung the maul over one shoulder, holding out a gloved hand. "Here, give it so I can close the loop on this fence." There were holes torn in the glove, ragged punctures. Bite marks.

"No." You whispered, your hold on the knife’s hilt tightening. "No, I-I don't want you to come any nearer." What did the Duke do to him?

Karl's brow furrowed, but he soldered on, reasoning, "There's more of the freaks out there, sugar. We don't have the whole fence covered, I need that last charm."

"Please, don't…look, I don't want to hurt you and you're scaring me right now." You got the feeling the blade you had was about as threatening as a butter knife to the large man, but you held firm.

Cornered dogs bite. He had called you sugar, his voice low and urgent. Surely it was still him in there if he was using the silly pet name he had decided upon for you. This was all so confusing.

"The lycans don't give a shit about whether you're scared, sugar! They aren't gonna' wait around for us to sort things out, they're coming!" Heisenberg snapped roughly, glancing back over his shoulder. "Fuck's sake! I'm not at full bore and if something gets you because I'm out of it, I'd-" He hesitated, then huffed through gritted teeth instead of finishing the sentence. "Alright, fine, I'm not coming any closer, we'll just do it together then. Stay by me. Devil you know, right?" He instructed, that fierce gaze softening a bit. "Nothing will get you while I'm here."

What if you're the thing I'm worried about? you wondered privately.

…

You were looking at him like he was a monster. You were looking at him like he was a horrible, terrible monster, that trashy Bowie knife you used to shave kindling chips clutched in your trembling hands, leveled at his gut. You're scaring me right now.

And Karl couldn't even deny it because holy shit he was, he had been, he might still be. Oh God, no wonder the Duke told him it was an awful idea. He wanted to throw up, but that may have been due to the closeness of the talisman. Anti-mold measures or just another silver bullet in the magazine?

At least now he knew, as crushing as that particular burden of knowledge was. At least he knew. It was oddly freeing to be that self-fulfilling prophecy for once.

You ended up hovering nervously at his elbow, the proximity of the charm a constant, nagging throb at the apex of his spine. But he could keep track of you that way.

"The lycans are wary." Karl informed you, not really sure why he did so. "They know who I am but they're not particularly good listeners."

"Something you have in common." You retorted.

Karl shrugged, feeling his glove slide down his mangled fingers before he tugged it back into place. "I'd like to think I've improved." He glared at the forms he could see surging along the edges of the treeline, brandishing the maul in silent threat. Come on, you rabid little shits.

Not a single one left the safety of the woods, however they did keep up their noise. Howling and shrieking, the pack followed the two of you closely. They're waiting for us to place the last charm, Heisenberg realized, his brow furrowing. They'll strike then before we can get back inside the fenceline.

"I need you to be ready to run once you tack down that last talisman." He muttered out the side of his mouth, relieved when you nodded. "Don't worry about me."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

His laugh was coarse and joyless. He had been a naive idiot to think he even had a chance at any sort of quiet life, but he was more irritated with himself over being so affected by the disappointment. Now was not the time to wish to turn back the clock.

You broke away from him by running ahead, your attention clearly fixed on the section of fencing that lacked an oh-so-familiar charm. Karl watched you slide the talisman off your wrist, and at the same time he could see the pack of lycans appear to muster themselves for a full-scale assault.

Heisenberg's eyes narrowed and the man bolted forward, sending the maul ahead of him as he went. "It needs to go on the outside of the fence! I'll cover you!"

…

You yanked open the gate with single-minded intent, only to see the maul go sailing into the teeming swarm of bodies in front of you, Karl close behind announcing that he would 'cover you'. As you turned to watch him go, a massive lycan broke away from the edge of the pack and headed straight for you, fingers clawing at the dirt for traction.

You fumbled to attach the charm, hanging it on the rusted nail still in the fence post and then smashing the top of the nail with the butt of your knife to fold it over onto itself. Mission accomplished, you rushed to get back inside the safety of the fenceline, but it was too late. A paw-like hand caught your ankle, tripping you up and causing you to strike your head hard on the gate.

The world swam in front of your eyes, a combination of reflex tears and being dragged along the ground by your leg at a dizzying pace. You began to struggle, kicking desperately at the face of the creature in an effort to free yourself from its clutches. The lycan dropped your leg, choosing instead to bat aside the kicks you aimed at it and lunge for your face with a garbled howl.

You didn't even have the time to think and so you slammed your eyes shut, bracing the knife you still held against your body in an effort to at least wound the lycan.

But it didn't come. The weight of the beast on your chest just…vanished, its roar choking off abruptly.

When you dared to open your eyes again, you were greeted by the sight of Karl holding up the lycan by its throat, the man clearly crushing its windpipe. Judging by the way it was thrashing, it didn't have much longer. Heisenberg didn't say a single word, the man simply grunting with effort as he gave the beast a final shake to cleanly snap its neck. He then threw the body down, broadening his stance and squaring his shoulders with a furious grin on his face.

"Fuck off!" He roared at the remaining pack, now significantly thinned and yelping. "You stay the hell away from here, or I'll wipe out every last one of you!" The maul flew through the air and he caught it, swinging it one-handed. It was dripping with some kind of black fluid. "You won't cross that fenceline!"

After a few moments of what seemed to be a snarling back-and-forth with Heisenberg and one another, the surviving creatures sulkily limped back into the woods in defeat. They left nothing behind but crystallized remains of their kin and, as rain slowly started to fall, even those began to dissolve into the soil.

Karl closed the gate, the man slowly latching it with the worn wire twisted around the post.

You were still on the ground, the knife pressed to your chest as you shivered and tried to catch your breath. You couldn't recall another day in your life that you had been so certain about your own death. Somehow all you'd ended up with was a few scrapes on your shin and a tender spot on your head from the gate.

Heisenberg swayed, propping himself up on the fence with one elbow. The maul dropped from his grasp as he panted for air, the man's scarred complexion gone so pale it was nearly green. He tried to say something, but ended up dry heaving instead. After taking a few staggering steps back from the fence, he unceremoniously collapsed onto his side.

You only hesitated momentarily before you scrambled forward, your caution thrown to the wind. It was as if watching him fight had somehow removed whatever threat you had felt before, the notion wholly gone from your mind. It was oxymoronic, but firmly embedded that the two of you were on the same side. He saved you.

The man gazed dully upwards at you or someplace past your shoulder, his breathing coming in sharp, hitchy bursts. "Hurt-" he managed to wheeze, shaking the glove off of his hand to display blackened flesh radiating from a tearing bite wound on the palm. He then gave a thumbs up with the mangled appendage, choking out, "--be okay."

You noticed blood darkening a section of his trousers by his hip and you jerked his tattered coat back, revealing several more wounds. At least two of the lycans had ripped into the back of his thigh, like they were trying to hamstring him. The purpling, bruised bites ran down his leg and there was even a large chunk missing from the top of his boot. You hissed in dismay at the whole scene, feeling nauseous and terrified.

"We need to get you out of the rain," you said finally, your stomach in knots. Karl waved you off while pffting out a breath but you essentially ignored him, pulling his good hand to haul his arm up over your shoulders. "C'mon, use whatever's left of your legs."

The man coughed out a laugh at that, then obliged you to the best of his ability. It was a struggle, but the two of you managed to get him upright. All there was left was the slow trek back to the cabin, and Jesus was it slow. Karl could barely put one foot in front of the other, the man dragging his wounded leg and the maul behind him as he leaned on you, nevermind your own legs still shaking from adrenaline.

"Why did you do that?" You asked finally, blinking the rain out of your eyes.

"Whuh."

"You know what." The only reply you got was silence, followed by a clumsy little pat on the cheek. You supposed you would have to ask later.

…

The fresh talismans gave Karl the sensation of being in the eye of a storm. A maelstrom of energy swirled around the fenceline in a disorienting spiral, but it couldn't touch him in here. The drunken stumbling was more due to the injuries he had sustained, his steps unsteady and head hanging. This weakness was incredible, it was so similar to how he had been right after he had lost to Ethan. Laying there in the dirt with the rain pouring down on him, uncertain of what had just happened, where he was, every shattered breath in his body seeming like it could be his last.

"Come, my Lord. You seem to have fallen ill."

You had said that the Duke was the one who brought him to you for aid. He barely remembered bits and pieces of the ride, only roused to consciousness from pain when he was jostled.

His forehead knocked into yours and he slurred out an apology, realizing you needed him to walk up the porch steps. And walk up them he did, his leg already feeling a little less terrible. Parasite perks, the alliteration tickling him far more than it ought to have. He actually managed to hobble through the doorway unassisted, performing an odd skipping hop to do so and dropping the maul beside the doorframe.

Once inside you collapsed on the couch, your whole body trembling. "Thought I was gonna' die." You finally said. Heisenberg continued to hover awkwardly on one leg, shoring himself up by placing a hand onto one of the ceiling crossbeams as you seemed to gather your thoughts. "I mean I thought that was it, game over. Holy shit, that was terrifying." You looked up at him, radiating incredulity as you asked, "how the hell did you just handle them?"

Karl shrugged, a bad habit he felt he could attribute to you. "It's all I've known for most of my life." It was a garbage explanation for all its truth and he knew that, but you weren't exactly in a fantastic headspace at the moment. Neither was he for that matter, he was still weak and a little queasy. Better to let sleeping dogs lie, let you calm down and regain some peace of mind. Lycans were normal to him, sure, but you'd only seen them in half light and hadn't even seemed to believe they actually existed until today.

You put your face in your hands, exhaling deeply. You then moved to rise but Karl halted you with a hand on your shoulder, and he was silently dismayed at the fact that he could still feel you shaking.

"Stay put." He tried to gentle his tone, make it a little less gruff. "That was a lot. Just rest. You want some water?"

You hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah." You caught his hand before he could turn away, seeming confused. "How are you even walking? Your leg was-" "Something in me is real invested in keeping my body in one piece." Karl patted your hand, attempting to smile and failing miserably. "Lemme' get you that drink."

Part Four

#karl heisenberg #lord karl heisenberg #eventual romance #fix it fic #au #resident evil #re 8 #re 8 village #resident evil village #resident evil karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg imagine #re 8 karl heisenberg #slow burn #canon typical violence #gratuitous violence

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shatcey · 4 months

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Genjiden prologue

I have finished the prologue of Genjiden. And this is my retelling. Long, messy, and inaccurate. MC is a young, pretty little pharmacist's apprentice (I think it's a cross between a person who makes medicines and treats people, like Ieyasu from Ikesen). So… She went to the city at night (she wasn't going to do it at night, just timed it wrong), where her teacher went… Why they couldn't go there together is a big mystery (perhaps a translation problem). There was a meeting with a merchant with an eyepatch, but it doesn't matter. Excuse me the Guy with the eyepatch. So, she almost got to the city, but suddenly noticed a small white fox in the grass… of course, the wounded one (why else MC can heal).

(cutie)

She deals with his wounds, and suddenly two people with not entirely peaceful intentions appear. I'm really bad at remembering new names. So use the nicknames I gave them… At least for now. A guy with huge pearls on his chest - Pearl-guy - (it's probably bombs, but they look just like pearls). Pearl-guy is very loud and aggressive. I didn't like him at first sight. Who wears pearls this size? Poor oysters. He was accompanied by a cute red-haired guy with a bow - Ginger cutie - who convinced Pearl Guy to leave MC alone. When they finally decided to go their ways, she mentioned the little guy in her arms (fox, if you forgot), and they suddenly ordered her to leave him to them with very bloody intentions. Of course, MC refused (she had just patched him!). And two more people appear. I guess this road is very popular at night.

One of the newcomers reminds me a lot of Yves from IkeРri (height, blond hair, blue eyes), so for now I'll call him Japanese Yves. And he was with a guy with glasses and red gloves. These gloves bother me a lot… He wears grayish-black armor and red gloves… It's very creepy… It looks like his hands are constantly covered in blood. So he's going to be Red-gloved guy. The newcomers start fighting with the previous pair. Red-gloved guy shouts to MC go to the forest and meet two more people. Sorry… I need a moment… It's so stupid that I was surprised I didn't laugh when I read it.

She ran away because she wanted to save this little fox. Of course. I would have done the same thing. He's cute and small… and much quieter than the others. He has so many pluses.

In the forest, she meet a man who is supposed to be Nobunaga of this world. But… He doesn't have that heavy aura of authority, and he's much younger. I didn't find anything special about his appearance, so he's going to be a Little Nobunaga for now. There was a guy with him who reminds me of Hideyoshi because he looks pretty friendly and he's with little Nobunaga. But the red-gloved guy called him Fluffy-haired, and I like the sound of that. So they're talking… about something… I don't remember. And another person appears. For some reason, he looks more like a small version of little Nabunaga. From their conversation, I realized that he was Little Nobunaga's cousin. So… that's why they are so alike… Make sense… But suddenly one of his eyes turned red, and now he looks so creepy… like a zombie. Sorry, little-little-Nobunaga, you're Zombie now.

It's a comic after reading the prologue, but it looks so cute and will give you some visual.

Zombie uses some kind of magic, and fluffy-haired tries to fight him, but to no avail. Somehow, MC and the little fox in her arms have attracted attention, and yet another person orders her to leave him behind and run. But no, she would never let anything bad happen to her (already her) pet. And suddenly the little fox turned into a cute guy with a long silver hair and animal ears. Not bad… Big fox. Then Big fox did something to MC, and her eyes and hair became the same color as his. Miracle. But no. It was a contract or something, and now she has his abilities. Another person appears, no, he falls… I mean, he flew and landed… It's a demon. Sorry… I need one more moment…

He looks a lot like a demon… Black hair, red eyes, pointed ears, pointed nails… but… I don't know who did it or why… but he has an ornament on his chest… and it looks like tits… black fluffy tits… I'm sorry, demon you are Black-tits guy now. So… The first 4 people came running… in the forest. There was probably a field somewhere out there… otherwise, I have no idea how 10 people can stand in a bamboo forest and see each other… Zombie is trying to use his magic, but MC, have no idea how, take it away from him. She has abilities. And… Zombie, Black-tits, Pearl, Ginger are gone… Ugh… more oxygen.

But another person appears. I don't know why… but he looks like he should have long hair. It's just that his hairstyle somehow creates this impression… The Not-long haired guy. He mostly laughs because MC is stuck with Big fox, probably forever, their bond is very difficult to break, and because of that she will become a target. But little Nobunaga assures MC that she can stay under his protection. And… she literally has no other choice. The not-long-haired guy went to the capital (if I understood correctly) and met with two more people. A little boy who reminds me of Oliver from IkeRev, because his voice is not the vice of a child. And (I read a description) the Last emperor or something. And again, he has beautiful eyes, but other than that, I didn't notice anything remarkable. Small child turns into a very beautiful demon, and I even stop for a while just to admire his beauty… So for now he'll be Beautiful demon.

Little Nobunaga returns to his city with all his gang. People run to meet him, and he suddenly becomes very sweet and smiling. Considering how he had behaved before, it was quite shocking. But fluffy-haired said it was normal for him. Surprise-surprise. The rumor of friendly and popular leader are true.

So the MC stayed with the guys and said thanks for their kindness or something. The end.

I know my story lack of… story. But there was a lot of terms that translator refuse to translate and it was very long prologue and I quite surprised I remember that much…

But after that I was very dubious with who start to play. Red-gloved has an aura of Faust from IkeVamp, which is good, but I cannot forget his red gloves…they are creepy. Little Nobunaga really weird, I don't know what to think about him yet. And choose Big fox right from the start seems a bit too rush. So I chose actually the only guy I liked. Ginger cutie. He seems to be quite rational (even cynical), funny, and undeniably cute. So be it.

Actually his cards are very pretty as well…

I was considering to chose one of them. I couldn't find Beautiful demon, so decided to stay with Big fox. He's like a "pet"/"future husband" at the same time…

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lasthaysileeshipper · 1 month

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LHS Haymitch Rarepair Ramble #1: Haymitch/Mrs. Everdeen

I always meant to make a post explaining the dynamics of my many Haymitch rarepairs, but I never quite got around to it. I guess now’s a good a time as any to start.

A lot of people make comparisons between Katniss and her mother and Katniss and Haymitch, but let’s cut the middle woman out for a second.

I think Haymitch and Mrs. Everdeen have a lot more in common than one would initially think. The best example of this—besides both caring about Katniss—is their relationship with death.

Both of them have lost numerous people in matters out of their control. For Haymitch, it was his mother, brother, and adolescent sweetheart. For Mrs. Everdeen, it was her husband, her daughter, and (presumably) her parents. The most obvious common thread they share in that regard is, of course, Maysilee.

Their similarities continue with how they process grief. After losing their loved ones, they both shut themselves out from the world, unable to access any sort of professional help and having to trudge though it manually.

I think these two having this relationship to death and grief and having Maysilee in common is a good starting point. I think what they both need is the knowledge that someone else feels what they feel and I can see them helping each other work through that grief in a healthy manner.

Additionally, Haymitch one of is Katniss’ primary paternal figures in the story. Him and her mother coupling up feels natural to me, especially considering what they have in common (and that they’d be a seam/merchant pair). I think he (in addition to therapists) could help mother and daughter pick up their broken pieces and put them back together—or at least as best they can considering everything that’s happened between them.

Haymitch knows what it’s like to be hurt and lonely and he knows Katniss and her mother are both hurt and lonely, too. None of them deserve to wallow alone in misery anymore. They all deserve support. They all deserve to have family again. It’ll never be the same as before, but it’ll be something.

Phew! That was longer than I expected it to be. I’ll be making similar analytical posts about my other Haymitch rarepairs eventually, I just had these two on the mind today. See y’all soon!

(Also, just as a silly fun fact, I call Mrs. Everdeen Vera, like aloe vera. I love me a good punny name.)

#haymitch abernathy #mrs everdeen #katniss everdeen #haymitch x mrs everdeen #they don’t have a ship name :(#the hunger games #thg #lhs ramblings #lhs rarepairs #lhs analysis #long post

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bluerose5 · 3 months

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Zevran & Astarion Banter Pt. 17/?

Guess who's back again!

Have some more gift-giving between the two. 💙

[First] [Prev] [Next]

...

Zevran: I have something for you. To repay you for the boots you got me.

Astarion: Correct me if I'm wrong. A lot of this is as new to me as it is to you, but isn't the point of a gift that you're supposed to receive it without the gift-giver expecting anything in return?

Zevran: Well, yes, but... I don't know. I wanted to give you something as well, something that shows how much you mean to me.

Astarion: You already show me that enough through your actions, but if you insist, I wouldn't be opposed to being showered in riches.

Zevran: As you deserve, but I hope you won't be opposed to something less extravagant and more meaningful.

Astarion: An earring?

Zevran: Ahem. *clears throat* Yes, well, after all that we have been through, it felt like an appropriate moment to give this to you. I acquired it on my very first job from the Crows. My target was a merchant prince. He was wearing a single, jeweled earring when I killed him. As a matter of fact, that was about all he was wearing.

Astarion: As to be expected around you, so it seems.

[Astarion laughs, causing Zevran to smile.]

Zevran: So it seems. I thought it was beautiful and took it to mark the occasion. I've kept it since, and now I want you to have it.

Astarion: ...

Zevran: What? Did I say something wrong?

Astarion: No, not exactly, but Zevran?

Zevran: Yes, my love?

Astarion: This earring means a lot to you, doesn't it?

Zevran: I— *chuckles nervously* You need not read too much into it. Really.

Astarion: Says the one who has been reading me like an open book since the moment we first met. *pauses* This has belonged to you for so long, though, for years when you didn't even belong to yourself.

Zevran: Something like that. *shrugs*

Astarion: Are you sure you want to give it to me?

Zevran, without hesitation: I'm certain. It—It would mean a lot for you to have it. It is important to me, as are y—well, as is the time we spent together.

Astarion: Careful, love. That almost sounded like some genuine affection for a moment there.

Zevran: Heh, yeah, and if it is?

Astarion: Then, I would be glad to accept it and the earring, too.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #dragon age origins #dragon age #astarion ancunin #astarion #zevran arainai #zevran #zevstarion #crossover ship #bluerose headcanons #bluerose writes

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mosquito-queen · 2 years

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more ancient greece ronance ramblings...

max catching nancy after a sacrifice, “woah, is that real blood? can i see? “yeah, sure, you can clean it and bring it back to me, just be careful.” and max is always hanging around the temple from that point on, keeping the ceremonial knives clean and sharp, trying to copy everything nancy does, and it’s weird to the priestess, she’s never had anyone take her so seriously before, she’s never felt seen in that way

leading up to max’s half-death, nancy is plagued with twisted dreams, finding herself in cold, dark, desolate ruins with shadowy creatures taking flight, their screeches ringing in her ears as she jolts up in bed (she will realize later she had been dreaming of the underworld)

to get max back, they have to defeat the keres who are working with thanatos (vecna)... thanatos is suppose to be a gentle god of death so he is using the keres to carry out brutal forms of dying (i’m still working out the why)

el is a demigod and the half-sibling of thanatos and the keres

i’m thinking the fates are the ultimate puppet masters and end up cursing el into a gorgon after she manages to fend off the keres

don’t mind me thinking about blind!max and gorgon!el

oh but what about the love part!? it’s slow. like painfully. like nancy doesn’t realize she’s been catching feelings until robin almost dies. like nancy crying over robin’s battered body after they defeat the guardians of athena’s sword (it would be something that heavily relies on strategy) and nancy is thinking she’s done it again, she’s lost someone else, no matter how fast she is no matter how smart she is, she can’t cheat death. she’s sobbing to the point sound doesn’t come out, cradling robin in her lap, and then robin cracks open her eyes, her mouth bloody, “i’m too annoying for the gods to keep, i guess you’re stuck with me”

nancy patching up robin, who is asking a thousand questions about the different poultices and what each herb does and how nancy knows how to find them and nancy surprised that someone wants to listen to her talk, surprised that someone is taking her knowledge seriously

they start the journey sleeping away from each other, but every night they slowly set up their sleeping spots closer until it’s just them, curled up under the stars, with robin asking what each constellation means, and nancy giving every detail robin asks for, “what about that one, nance? you see there?” “oh, those ones aren’t, they’re part of separate constellations.” “no, i know this one, this one is about the story of a priestess and the daughter of a merchant going on a quest to retrieve the soul of a young girl.” nancy, playing along, turning her head in the grass so she can stare up at robin and she thinks maybe she sees stars forming in robin’s eyes, their fingers brushing in the space between them, “oh, you’re right, i barely remember that one. tell it again? how does it end?” and robin doesn’t hesitate, her hand slipping into nancy’s, and she spins a story until the other girl falls asleep, warm against her side.

“so how do we get to the underworld?” “we find a god.” and that’s how robin ends up learning that nancy definitely can’t handle alcohol and now it’s up to her to get dionysus to tell her the backways into the underworld

#ronance #referenced some of the poses from velinxi #ronance ancient greece au

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tealfling · 5 months

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I just did the most un-necessarily petty shit in BG3 for a pale vampire man that isn't. even. real.

So, let me tell you about it:

Blood Banks & Bartering

Act 2: the House of Healing & Morgue

[So Warning mentions of Blood]

named Tav: Amaranth, tiefling Cleric, she/her

Astarion x OC (Amaranth), named Tav

Summary: After Astarion's confession, Amaranth (Tav) decides she wants to menace everyone's least favorite blood vendor.

The newly opened chamber at the back of the morgue didn't offer fresh air, exactly, but at least it was clear of toxic fumes. Amaranth glanced around the room illuminated by the holy mace she wore on her back. Another surgical-type room.

"Everyone good?" she called to her team, trying to access Karlach, Shadowheart, and Astarion before they could reply. Having two clerics might seem like an off-balanced party, but they just made quick work of a nasty group of zombies, and Amaranth was rather fond of Shadowheart. The amethyst tiefling smiled with a sigh. She'd never say so, but this was her favorite team. One she tried to avoid grouping too often, lest she play favorites.

Speaking of favorites, Amaranth peeked through her lashes at Astarion.

The last few days with him had been...eventful. Just two nights ago they had an honest discussion about their feelings--free of witty banter and innuendo-- initiated by Astarion, himself, surprisingly. She could feel the warmth creeping into her cheeks. Amaranth had been giving Astarion more space than usual today, torn between wanting to amp up the affection and not wanting to overwhelm him physically, she'd been exceedingly mindful of his personal space. But when his vermillion gaze met hers, Amaranth took it as an invitation to prance over while the others fussed over their gut-covered gear.

"Thank you for dealing with all those vents in there. I'm not interested in giving anyone food poisoning later." she teased, flitting her tail coyly.

"It's the least I could do, Darling, for such a gracious host," hummed Astarion. Something over Amaranth's shoulder caught his attention and he moved closer to the back wall. "Is that blood on the shelves?" He clicked his tongue, "Probably cold and congealed. Ugh." He shuddered.

Amaranth walked up to the towering shelf of various jars and bottles. She didn't have the talent for scenting blood the way Astarion could, but she could still pick up a faint copper odor. The tiefling traced a finger over a shelf, gingerly tipping a bottle of dark-gelled liquid into her hand. Wishing she had her bag of Momento Mori, missing since the nautiloid, Amaranth made a mental note to explore the idea of blood jelly later.

Astarion continued in her ear, "These days, I get to enjoy a warm, fresh meal." Frissons ran down her spine when his breath left her ear. Guess we're back to flirting, Amaranth thought. Continuing on in his usual nonchalant manner, Astarion picked up the blood bank log book. He thumbed through it flippantly, "Quite the list of characters, but hardly my taste."

"The poison's gone now. It's safe enough to leave." Shadowheart called from the entrance.

"It's about bloody time!" Astarion snapped the book shut and reshelved it unceremoniously. "This dank, disgusting corpse-littered place actually makes me look forward to a bath at that old run-down inn," he griped all the way back to the door.

Karlach approached Amaranth as she began to set the bottle in its final resting place. The robust red tiefling shuddered. "Ew, there's just so many of them," she said regarding the vast shelf.

"Yeah, there is," the shorter purple tiefling chuckled, "Almost more than---" She paused. Araj would know what to do with. Was the end of a sentence never spoken. Interrupted by a mischievous scheme. The previous afternoon, the drow's gall had earned her a place on Amaranth's personal shit list, not far down from Cazador. The merchant's blatant disregard of Astarion's person and boundaries left the tiefling fuming. Astarion might not want to bite her, but Amaranth was more than willing to rip out her throat.

"Karlach," Amaranth whipped up peering up at her favorite Yes Man. "I feel like being a little shit, you in??!" she fizzed, a small fanged smile curling across her face.

"Fuck, Yeah!" This is why Amaranth loved Karlach.

Amaranth clasped Karlach's hands in her's leaving the jar in the other's palm, "Awesome! One sec--" she turned her voice to the elves waiting at the threshold, their collective patience rapidly declining. "You two can head back to camp, Karlach and I are going to rifle through the House of Healing then head back to Moonrise to sell what we find."

Both elves frown disapprovingly, "You can't be serious?" They spoke concurrently. Amaranth smiled endearingly.

"Darling, there's nothing here even remotely valuable. Why waste your time?" Astarion pressed, gesturing widely to the obvious filth.

"Because, Dar-ling," she purred, "every little bit counts. All this fancy, enchanted armor that protects our squishy parts needs a lot of upkeep." Amaranth said waving a hand down her armored body, popping a hip out playfully. "And, then there are the mouths at camp that need to be fed-" she pauses giving Astarion his moment to huff and puff. "I know, I know, collecting strays is my toxic trait, but don't forget Star, you were my first. And I'm just not filling enough for everyone to have a bite." Amaranth pokes with a drawl. "So, as the responsible 'leader,' that I am, I'll collect anything that can be sold so that everyone can get what they need to make this little adventure of ours more bearable. And any good leader worth their salt knows you two are done. You're all but seething in place. So, you can head back, enjoy a bath, we'll probably be back at camp before you're even finished." Amaranth reassures.

Shadowheart speaks first, "If you're sure. " The tiefling nods.

Astarion pinches his brow for a second trying to read Amaranth's big round silver eyes before he relents. "Tsk. Fine." He huffs.

As soon as the elves are out the door, Amaranth bolts to Karlach, rapidly laying out her petty plan in a single breath. "Got it? She wants blood? We'll give it to her. Grab it ALL. Whatever we can carry," she said through a fiendish grin.

Karlach bounced back and forth, "OoOooh this is going to be good!"

Outside, Astarion waited, leaning against the neighboring cemetery wall. Fidgeting with his dagger in hand. It didn't take much to convince Shadowheart that he wasn't in need of a chaperone, that she could abandon him. It was obvious that his favorite little traveling companion was up to something. But what? And why didn't she want him in on it?

There had been an unusual amount of...space, between them since his confession. Amaranth normally orbited him, finding ways to either outright include him in her daily tasks or be in his company while doing them. And today he found he actually missed that proximity, not to mention that delicious body heat an infernal legacy blessed tieflings with, like his own private hot waterskin. He was sure she'd be extra clingy when she agreed to a real relationship. Physical affection often flowed from Amaranth, her touch as expressive as her face. Karlach recently enjoyed being on the receiving end of many free, unprompted hugs. But for Astarion, Amaranth always seemed to dance around him during the day, dealing out gentle, careful touches in moderation. For a moment, he thought she might be reconsidering their late-night conversation about what this relationship might become, but she'd approached him earlier just fine. But then, why tell him to go? This was a first, and it made him uneasy. So, he lingered. He was good at waiting.

After a while, voices could be heard shouting as they drew closer.

"Found one!"

"Got another!" These two were the loudest creatures in the Shadow Curse.

Finally, the doors of the House of Healing flew open as the kicking leg stumbled forward. It took a second for Astarion to make out what he was seeing. That was definitely Amaranth, struggling to balance two heavily over-stuffed bags hanging from her front and back, as well as a series of smaller sachels dangling from her belt, and strapped to her thighs. The only telling sign being the long silver stands of disheveled hair freely falling where they wanted, no doubt from situating that backpack madness. What in the blazes is she doing? Astarion thought.

A pit of panic welled in his stomach when Astarion realized Amaranth wasn't catching her footing and the momentum would topple her over the first step of the entrance stairs.

"Careful soldier." A swift red arm lunged forward grasping the pack on Amaranth's back and pulling her upright. "You good?" Karlach chuckled, checking to make sure her smaller counterpart was firmly planted.

"Yeah, just watch that first step, Karlach, it's a doozy." Amaranth joked sarcastically, bracing her stance.

Relief began to wash over Astarion, enough to internally groan at her joke, but then....he noticed that strapped to Karlach's back, was not one, but TWO CRATES. What in the Nine Hells were these lunatics doing?!? This was madness. With every step they took, he could now make out the sound of glass rubbing together. The rogue stood dumbfounded. Not entirely sure what he was witnessing. What were they carrying? Did he even want to know? At this distance, he wasn't sure if the scent of blood lingered on them or if it wafted from their haul.

Every step the women took they grappled with their utterly encumbering loot. Each giggled like a fool through large fang-tip grins with wild eyes when one whispered some joke the pale elf wasn't privy to. Astarion's face pinched. It seems he was worried for nothing. The tieflings seemed like they had...whatever this was...in hand. Apparently not needing his--not that he wanted to put his hands all over the disgusting things they'd stolen. Perhaps he had wasted his time, and while a perfectly good bath waited for him. He peered in the direction of Moonrise. It wasn't that far of a trek from the House of Healing, across the street really if you imagined what the lay of the land might have been before the shadow curse. Seeing no reason to involve himself in their foolishness, Astarion decided to head back to camp to enjoy that bath the previous leader suggested.

Karlach's cackling entered camp first. The soft glow of her chest giving away her location. As she stepped closer into the light of camp, her purple companion came into view. Perched behind the larger tiefling like a backpack, Amaranth giggled and waved.

"We're back everyone and we got new loot!" The smaller tiefling said sing-song, lifting the pack from her back and swinging it around. Approaching the fire, she hopped down from Karlach and inverted the bag on the ground, revealing her spoils. "Disperse amongst yourselves at your leisure," she said to those gathered round, waving her hand over the various bottles of glowing liquids and items.

Astarion watched over his book from his tent. Amaranth was making a show for the others, but her eyes eventually meandered his way, locking with his. As soon as Karlach started chatting about their- probably- ill-gotten gains, Amaranth practically pranced his way. Her big bright eyes begged to be questioned.

"Alright, I'll bite, what did you do?" Astarion asked when the bubbling tiefling stopped before him. Her mischievous grin barely containing the words she wished to spill. “And why didn’t you want my help?” He jabbed.

"Well," she began nonchalantly, "Let's just say that tomorrow when that Sanguine bitch has a….” The tiefling paused for a moment, trying to find the right phrase, “clearer head, she'll realize she's the proud owner of every bit of blood the House of Healing had to offer." She almost laughed. Amaranth tilted her head so he would meet her eyes, “And I didn’t want you to have to be in her presence ever again.”

Astarion scoffed, placing his hand in front of his mouth as if scandalized, , "Oh my sweet thing, did you steal from her?" He wiped a fake tear from his eye, "I'm so very proud."

“Technically,” she articulated, “We bartered. It was an even trade really. I took everything of value she had- including that ‘once and a lifetime potion,’” Amaranth mockingly slurred. She continued, “While giving her every worthless vial of blood as disgusting and vile as she is that we could find. I’ve completely ruined her profit margins.” The tiefling waved her hand flippantly.

Astarion chuckled, “Well, let’s hope she never financially recovers.” Amaranth started to pull at her armor to remove it. Astarion moved around to help her with the shoulder buckles.

“Granted, I still plan on ripping out her throat with my bare fangs at the first available opportunity,” Amaranth gritted, slugging off her chest piece. “Maybe then she’ll think twice about talking to you or another spawn like that.”

“I don’t recommend it, Darling,” Astarion hummed, “she smelled absolutely wretched.” He spun his little tiefling around to face him. “But thank you for wishing violence upon her on my behalf, it’s very charming,” he said brushing a strand of hair behind her little pointed ear.

Amaranth leaned into his hand with a faux pout. “I just hate her so much. If I’m lucky, she’ll be dumb enough to be in Moonrise when we face Ketheric,” she said with a venomous smile.

Astarion hummed, “You’re adorable when you have murder on your mind my pet.” He leaned down to plant a kiss on her forehead, but his target flinched away unexpectedly.

Seeing a flash of hurt in his eyes Amaranth quickly apologized, “Sorry. I just know I’m in desperate need of a bath and no one wants to dine from a dirty dish.” A soft half smile formed at the corner of her mouth.

"Oh, come now my Sweet, what's a little gore between friends?" Astarion drawled. "Besides, regardless of whatever ichor you're covered in, it'll hardly be the worst thing I've ever tasted. And it'll be made all the sweeter on you." He leaned in again, this time a hand pressed to his chest holding him back.

"But that's the thing, isn't it Darling?" Amaranth said warmly, an enchanting smile blooming across her face. "You said you wanted to be more than friends now, real lovers. And I want to give you more. More than you can imagine."

Astarion felt her tail curl behind his ankle, she probably didn't even realize she was doing it. He couldn't help but smile, it was like she was secretly hugging him.

"I'm here to raise your standards, my precious Star, you deserve the best my love has to offer. A clean, fresh face is the least I could do. I'll be quick. I promise it'll only take a minute. And I'll come right back to you, ok?"

Astarion sighed contently, "Alright fine."

"Fantastic," Amaranth beamed, "and you better be ready to cuddle when I get back!"

"Darling, how could I say no?" Astarion chuckled.

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sidecharactersdomatter · 4 months

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Now It’s time for me to pitch to everyone the Greatest Crossover of all time

(more popular than whatever the heck Infinity War and Endgame was).

TGCF x ATLA

Spoilers if you haven’t read and watched TGCF and watched The Last Airbender. Now here’s the worldbuilding!

-First things first, Avatars can’t ascend, because they keep reincarnating to continue the cycle, but they’ll occasionally be summoned to Heaven to help bring that 3rd realm balance with whatever help they can offer.

-Fire Lords can’t ascend because… they attacked.

-Heaven didn’t do jack squat to prevent the Air Nomad Genocide mainly because they were busy trying to defeat ghosts plaguing the land.

-The Windmaster wouldn’t be worshipped by the air nomads, but the Earth Kingdom worships Shi Qingxuan. Shi Wudu is worshipped in the Water Tribe and Earth Kingdom, same as the Rainmaster. The Earthmaster? You guessed it, Earth Kingdom. My OC, Leishi Ying, the Thundermaster is worshipped in the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation. Tl:dr, all Elemental Masters are worshipped in the Earth Kingdom because of it’s diverse Geography and inspiration from ancient China.

-Toph could be a good candidate for the next Earthmaster, she wouldn’t need the shovel but a lot of the Heavenly officials would low key remind her of her parents. So Bumi would totally be valid as the next earthmaster since he’s very intelligent with his creative mind. Heck Katara would be a good candidate for the water master, look at how far she’s come in Book 3.

-I don’t think Sokka would ascend as a martial god, I think he would totally ascend as a Civil God because he’s a strategist. An interaction between him and Ling Wen would be similar to the time he trained under Master Piandao. Now imagine an interaction between him, Fu Yao, and Nan Feng.

-During Xie Lian’s 3rd Ascension to Heaven, a certain Cabbage Merchant happened to be really close in his vicinity… yeah I’ll let you guys guess what happened next.

-Aang and his friends wouldn’t need to ascend, they could just fly straight up there on Appa

Yeah, this was fun. Plz expect Thoughts I had on TGCF Season 2 February! Should I or shouldn’t I, do a part 2?

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aegon-targaryen · 10 months

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Zelink Week Day 1 - Yearning

read on AO3 | read on FF.net | @zelinkcommunity

"We never work on archery," Zelda pointed out one day in the practice yard.

Link snorted. "You hit Ganondorf from fifty yards away on horseback. What's to work on?"

It had been ten months since that day, and four since they'd opened their hearts to each other. In the near-summer heat, she had forgone her crown, and he wore a loose Ordonian tunic that made no effort to conceal his scarred arms. The weather had drawn some of their friends out too—Auru and Telma traded information on a nearby bench; Ashei's attempt at teaching Ilia self-defense was devolving into giggles yet again.

"Always room for improvement," Zelda said.

Shrugging, Link plucked a bow from the rack and tossed it to her. She saw little action as queen and tended to favor magic in a fight, so she'd enlisted his help in keeping her other skills sharp.

He'd been reluctant to spar with her until they started to have fun. There was no danger here, no horror: just the simple satisfaction of their practice weapons smacking together, and that cool-eyed look of intense concentration on Link's face, and Zelda studying his every move like he was a puzzle to be solved. What she liked best was getting him to smile when she mastered something he'd taught her.

She had no delusions of beating him at swordplay, but this—the fletching soft between her fingers, the pull of the bowstring, the whole world narrowing down to the space between her and the target—Zelda had been born for this.

She could feel Link's eyes on her as she moved down the row of practice dummies and struck each one in the neck as easily as breathing. By the time she reached the end, the guards had paused their drills to cheer her on from across the courtyard.

"You just wanted an excuse to show off," Link accused, his eyebrows raised knowingly, his mouth sliding into a lopsided grin that crinkled the scar on his cheek. And he was right.

He understood her well enough to guess right.

For a brief moment, Zelda forgot the rest of the world. It felt less like falling and more like waking up on those bright spring mornings when dew sparkled the grass and birds greeted the dawn and everything felt reborn, even as the castle stepped into its old comforting routine.

That feeling terrified her down to the core.

Link had known so quickly, since that first warm day of the year when they'd gone out riding through Hyrule Field under the wonderfully clear sky. They had paused to let the horses drink, and at the glittering riverbank, the promise of spring made anything feel possible—even for Zelda and Link, with their scars and their broken hearts. She was standing just beside him, laughing at something he'd said, when Link caught her hands and looked into her eyes and told her quite simply: Zelda, I want you to know that I love you.

He hadn't expected her to say it back. He understood that she wasn't ready; he understood her fears and why she carried them. But now Zelda had that gift wrapped around her, like a warm cloak to keep her safe from any storm, and she had given him nothing in return.

The belltower announced the end of the castle's lunch break, and Zelda jumped at the sound, as though she hadn't been hearing it all her life. Link released a dejected sigh, trading glances with Ashei.

"We have to go," he told Zelda. "The merchant caravan we're escorting leaves in an hour."

"You'll return in a fortnight?" she replied, her voice sounding strange and remote to her own ears.

Link nodded. When they embraced, she found herself clinging hard to the leather strap that secured his scabbard to his back, and he pulled back with a frown. "Zelda? You okay?"

"Yes."

He furrowed his brow, a silent reminder that they'd once promised not to lie to one another.

"There is a knot I must untangle," Zelda admitted. "Let me do that, and I'll explain when you return."

"Okay," Link said reluctantly, kissing her forehead, then her lips, before he stepped away. "I'll see you later."

And those words, even though they used them all the time, snarled Zelda's thoughts even further. The last thing she needed was a reminder of Midna, who they'd both loved and lost. Even so, she repeated the phrase back, and when Link smiled, she returned that too—as always, she couldn't help herself.

Two weeks passed unremarkably: meetings, paperwork, audiences with her people. Hyrule was roaring back from the Twilight with a resilience Zelda could only hope to match. She had never been prouder to be its queen.

Yet she could not settle. Auru watched her rifle aimlessly through the documents strewn across the table. They were working quietly in a solar that overlooked the gardens, doors and windows wide open to welcome the warmth.

"Would you like to talk about it?" he asked.

"No," Zelda replied belligerently.

He took a slow sip of tea, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a manner she did not appreciate. As her childhood tutor, Auru was the closest thing she had left to family, and she was trying not to hide things from him anymore—partly because he was a shrewd old thing who could read her better than most. Still, she stayed quiet, her quill carving aggravated sentences into the parchment.

"If you're worried about Link, he's a good man," Auru began cautiously. "In fact, I doubt there is any man more worthy of you, Lady Queen."

"Link is a good man," Zelda agreed softly. He knew who she was and stayed anyway. He showed her the things he hid from the rest of the world. Somehow—after a life of trusting no one—trusting him had become second nature. "The danger does not come from him."

"It comes from you?" Auru guessed. When she didn't answer, he laid his hand over hers. "Lady Queen, you will not repeat your parents' mistakes. Nor should you spend your life apologizing for them."

"Even so, people will use Link against me. He will never have the peace he deserves."

"Has he asked you for peace?" asked a voice in the doorway. Telma sauntered in, her hands planted on her hips. Zelda pulled her hand away and straightened.

"You could have waited in my office," Auru said irritably. "You know better than to eavesdrop."

"I'd be a poor information broker if I did," Telma chuckled. "Besides, I only heard that last part. Lady Queen, if you want my advice: love is full of risks. Link has already accepted that; it's obvious every time he looks at you with those dreamy puppydog eyes. Now you must make your own decision."

With that, she snagged a cookie off the tray and ate it with the sumptuous delight of someone who never doubted herself.

Zelda wished for half that confidence. But she already knew her decision.

Later that night, she woke to a nudge at the protective spells that guarded her windows from intruders. Usually this meant a rat was trying to get in—once, an intrepid owl—but when Zelda dragged herself out of bed to check, her heart nearly stopped at the large silhouette against the starry sky.

Lethal magic was crackling in her palms before she realized she didn't need it. He was lucky that she would always recognize him, no matter how dark the night, no matter what skin he wore.

Zelda waved away the spell and let the wolf into her bedroom. He dropped to the floor and loped towards her, a silent shadow of sharp lines and bristling fur—except for the luminous blue of his eyes. Meeting his intent gaze sent Zelda back to the day he and Midna had delivered hope to her cold twilit prison, the day she had first realized she wasn't alone.

"Oh, Link," she said, fighting a sudden tightness in her throat. "What happened? Are you all right?"

He lolled his tongue out in a doggish smile to show her that he was. Trying not to laugh, Zelda knelt to touch the thick fur between his ears. He huffed out a long breath, pushing his head into her hand.

"Should I change you back?" she asked.

Link closed his eyes and nodded.

Zelda reached out with the traces of Twili magic left behind from her joining with Midna. Though it had been arduous and painful the first time she'd returned Link to his true form, months of refining the power made the process far smoother this time. The wolf still trembled in her lap as she unhooked the shadow crystal's claws from him, but before long Link was holding her in his human arms.

"Hey, Zelda," he murmured, and if she had any lingering doubts, they dispersed at the sound of her name in his weary voice.

"Link," she replied. "Are you certain you're all right?"

"Better now. Thanks. Sorry I woke you."

"I'm glad you did. Someone might have seen you in the daylight, and then we'd have all sorts of problems."

Link chuckled in a quiet way that betrayed his exhaustion. Zelda pulled back to look him over. His boots were muddy, his hair a bird's nest; he smelled of wolf and rain and the road. But he was safe, and a rush of affection made her lean forward to press her lips to his.

"I missed you too," he teased.

She tucked her hair behind her ears, cheeks burning. "Did something go wrong with the caravan?"

"A kid ran off. The rain had washed away his tracks by the time we realized, so…I transformed to sniff him out. I think he had fun. He thought I was a dog."

"How did everyone else react?"

"Ashei kept them calm," Link replied, looking down at his scarred palms. Like most of what he'd done during the Twilight, he kept this secret close for a reason. "She wasn't that surprised. She remembered seeing a wolf at the bar once, and on Snowpeak, but she didn't know that it was…that I was…"

A beast. A monster. He didn't finish the sentence, but she could hear it anyway, because that was how Link had seen himself for a long time—and, on his bad days, still did.

"But Ashei stood by you," Zelda pointed out, taking his hand. "You saved the child, and he wasn't afraid. They both saw what matters."

Link squeezed her fingers, but he looked skeptical, and she thought suddenly of the gift he'd given her by the riverside, how she drew it out to light the way when things grew dark. She was carrying the weight of a thankless kingdom, but Link loved her. She was a fraud with a heart of ice, but Link loved her. Her family was long dead and Midna long gone, but Link loved her.

She wanted him to give him that too: a shield to guard him against the world, against himself.

For now, Zelda took in the small smile Link sent her way, despite his slumping shoulders, and she said, "You're tired."

"Yeah. I should go." He kissed her cheek and stood, stretching out his limbs shakily.

The word tumbled out of its own volition: "Don't."

Link looked at her hand, which had grabbed his before he could step away, then at her face. He waited with a soft look in his eyes, a look like the slow shifting of sunset into peaceful night.

"Don't go," Zelda said after several hammering beats of her heart. "You're tired. I missed you. I—I want you to stay."

She never told him what she wanted. Her desires had gone into the ground with her mother's coffin, and she'd surrendered everything else to Hyrule, and for a long time, no other life had been possible. Until Midna. Until Link.

He wrapped his hands around hers and drew her to her feet. "Then I'm staying," he promised.

After he changed into the clean clothes she lent him, they climbed into Zelda's bed together. She had never shared it with anyone, but with Link, nothing was ever as frightening as she expected it to be. He settled down as though he'd always been there, curled up in bleary happiness.

"That problem you had before I left," he murmured. "Did you untangle it?"

Watching Link's lashes flutter as he tried to stay awake, counting all the scars she could see, Zelda replied, "Yes. I believe so."

"Knew you would."

"Go to sleep, Link. I'll tell you about it tomorrow."

He closed his eyes and slid away without argument. Zelda took a little longer, but she joined him when she was ready.

In the clean light of morning, she took the chance to study his face again. His mouth was soft and boyish. His hair was an ungodly mess. He had a scar on his cheek, another on his temple, more of them spilling down his collarbones to disappear under the borrowed shirt.

Half of Hyrule spoke longingly of the Hero's proud blue eyes, of his peerless skill, of the legend surrounding him. But he was no legend; he was just Link, and sleep smoothed out his sharp edges until he looked even younger than his eighteen years.

When he woke up, the first thing he did was nestle closer to her. Quiet lay over them like unbroken snow.

"Link," Zelda said after a while, "I love you."

He blinked his blue wolf-eyes. The blush started in his cheeks and grew until he was red from hairline to neck. He answered in a hushed voice, "I love you too."

"I'm sorry it took me so long."

"Don't be. I knew, or—hoped. But thank you for saying it."

"You knew?" Zelda repeated. "How?"

"It's in your voice," Link said, kissing her lips. "And your hands." His lips brushed her knuckles. "And the way you look at me and see everything." He kissed the corner of each eye, her forehead, the bridge of her nose, until she started giggling.

"You must be seeing everything too, if I've been that obvious," Zelda said when she'd caught her breath. That would have mortified her once, but now it filled her with courage, even stronger than what she'd felt the first time their eyes met—because she knew him now, and she knew the battles that lay ahead, and she knew they were worth fighting.

"You're awful cute when you blush," Link informed her.

"You should see yourself!" Zelda countered, poking him in the cheek.

He laughed, and neither of them moved for a long time. The battles could wait.

Thanks for reading! If you want more TP Zelink, consider checking out the chapter fic this is based on: As Dusk Falls!

#i'm writing again btw #zelink week 2023 #my writing #loz #tloz #tp #twilight princess #tp zelink #twilight princess zelink #zelink #zelink fanfiction #loz fanfiction #zelink community #zelinkcommunity

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the12thnightproject · 2 months

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Chapter 45: Winter Vacation Katsu shows Mitsuhide around Kyoto; then back in the 16th century he has another surprise for her.

Mitsuhide x OC; Hideyoshi x MC (Mai)

All Chapters Archived on Ao3

Logline - With Mai, Hideyoshi, and Aki missing, Mitsuhide and Katsuko reluctantly team up. Disguised as a merchant and his concubine, can they outsmart the man known as the God of Deceit?

“Now, the further you turn this, the warmer the water is.” I glanced over my shoulder to see if Mitsuhide was tracking the instructions, just in time to notice that he was looking at me, and not the plumbing.

Or perhaps I should say he was looking at my plumbing area, which very likely was visible below my bath towel. I raised both eyebrows at him and he winked. “You are a rather undeniable temptation.”

While it would have been nice to stay cocooned on the couch all day, eventually practicalities intruded. I introduced Mitsuhide to modern kitchen appliances, laughed as he spent five minutes turning off and on the lights in syncopated rhythm, fed him breakfast (well, it was lunch at that point), and now we were having a crash course in water management 101.

While running water was a concept he could get behind, he seemed not at all interested in temperature control, or the intricacies of how it worked from the source. “I presume there are people whose jobs there are to know specifically how it fits together, but at the moment, I’m only concerned with using it in its designated function.” He stuck his hand under the stream of water.

I twisted the level to make it warmer, and when he didn’t comment, I left it at that temperature. “On that note, I guess you’re an easier visitor than Shingen. He’s driving Sasuke crazy by taking everything apart to see how it works.”

“You spend a lot of time with them?” That unfamiliar tone was back in his voice. I don’t believe that he was actually jealous – just that there was enough history between the Oda and the Takeda-Uesugi alliance to mean that I had been hanging out with the enemy.

Lowering the conversational temperature back to casual, I said, “They’re the only people I know here since I prefer not to become close friends with anyone who will worry when I blip back into the past. So maybe let’s consider this time a neutral zone, and you can go back to trying to kill him when we return to the Sengoku era.”

What happens in modern Japan, stays in modern Japan.

He didn’t reply, but simply surveyed the pattern of water as it streamed down the walls of the postage stamp size stall. “So um, anyway, this is wasting water, so I’ll leave you to it…” I trailed off as he swiftly tossed away his clothes and stepped in.

He was so beautiful with the water flowed down his body, outlining every contour of his muscles. I know I had just spent the night and morning with that body, with this man, but I would never take that beauty for granted.

He raised that one eyebrow, smirked, and crooked his finger at me. “You did say something about needing to conserve water.

I had said that, yes. “There’s no room- eek!”

He reached out and pulled me in, bath towel and all. “My love, there is always room for you, no matter where I am.” He undid the now soaking towel and tossed it into the sink. Now there was little between us but water, and even that evaporated to steam when he wrapped his arms around me.

“Kitsune, I am not opposed to shower sex in concept, but we need a bigger…” My back would probably slide down the side and I’d hit my head and drown…

He rotated me away from him and I grabbed the towel bar for stability. “Hold on to that. I imagine that is what it was placed there for.”

Yeah, I’m not going to speculate on what Sasuke’s parents do in the shower, thanks for that mental picture.

He reached around to cup my breasts, and then I felt his teeth nipping at the side of my neck. “Oh God, we’re going to die.”

We did not die during shower sex… not any of the times we tried it.

Nor did Shingen and Mitsuhide attempt to kill each other when the four of us got together. Oh, the two of them would never become good friends – they were too much alike in the wrong ways, not to mention too different in every other way – but they managed mutual politeness during a meal that Sasuke and I cooked. That got upgraded to professional respect when they discussed the Yoshiaki and Motonari threats, which then devolved again to a cutthroat game of Catan that had both Sasuke and I eliminated within the first hour.

My moderately awesome ninja buddy and I watched the game from the sidelines for a little while before we both decided it would be safer to retreat to watching Picard (neither Shingen nor Mitsuhide had gotten into sci-fi, as travelling over 450 years into their future was sci-fi enough for both of them).

During the weeks as we counted down the time before the Togakushi wormhole manifestation, we all made the most of our time. Aside from breaking in the shower (and the breakfast bar, which Mitsuhide and I discovered was set at a very convenient height) we did actually emerge from the house every day to explore modern Kyoto. Mitsuhide decided that since this was more or less an enforced vacation, he would spend his time pursuing the interests that generally got pushed to the side amidst all the war councils, interrogations, and spying: live theater and music.

While I never could convince him to give K-pop - or any rock music for that matter – a chance, he did discover an appreciation for jazz. An unfortunate appreciation, since I disliked that sort of music. At least we were able to have a lively and ongoing debate over the merits of both, which usually devolved into mutual distraction.

Even though we always had a lovely time wandering through Kyoto in winter, my favorite part of the days were our evenings. I could be as cutthroat about Shogi and he and Shingen had been over Catan, and it was as much fun trying to outthink him and it was to distract him. I never won… though I came close twice.

Nor had I neglected my personal mission to organize the Mikumos’ library (with their permission). When they returned they would find everything neatly filed and cross referenced both in a database, and also in a hard copy notebook. Unfortunately, even after spending a couple of hours a day digging through their archives, I hadn’t discovered much about my father. True, Sasuke’s mother had kept a journal during that time which pinpointed when Aki and Francisco entered their lives, as well as what the two were studying, but otherwise the journal was pretty dry.

“Discover anything useful?” Mitsuhide wandered into the room with two cups of tea. I gratefully took it. Though he still couldn’t cook, he made a damn good cup of tea. I took a sip… and promptly burned my tongue. Good tea, but very hot tea. I fanned my mouth. He tsked. “The hazards of impatience, Brat… shall I kiss it to make it better?”

“Cute.” Not that I would ever turn down a kiss, even though it did threaten to throw me off track for the rest of the afternoon. Once we broke apart, I pulled out Professor Mikumo’s journal and read her description of Francisco. “We’re hosting a Portuguese exchange student who is very interested in Sengoku trade routes and any attempts by the explorers to influence politics. Or rather that was what the letter from his academic advisor stated. Unfortunately, this young man’s grasp on our language is tenuous at best, and as no one here speaks Portuguese, all of our work becomes delayed as we try to discuss everything in sign language.”

Mitsuhide politely nodded. “Yes, it is his lack of understanding that led to the most fascinating purchase of my life.” He tapped his lips, and followed that up by kissing me again. Mm. We were in danger of taking the afternoon off (again… it was last week’s work derailment that had led us to discover that the breakfast bar was the right height for eating… something that’s not actually food). No… this is important. I hadn’t even told him yet about that priest. “Francisco.”

“Dear me, have you forgotten my identity so quickly?” I shall have to give you a refresher on that topic.” He slid next to me and pulled me onto his lap.

I stopped his hands before they could make their way under my shirt. “I think he… or the priest who tried to buy me… might have been the one who shot Aki in 1578.”

To his credit, Mitsuhide immediately flipped into business mode. “On what evidence?”

Er. Well. “For Francisco, gut feeling, mostly. He had gun in his desk when I took the letter… and it was not there the next time I looked.” Before Mitsuhide could devil’s advocate me out of that, I added, “He’s been in Japan, both modern and Sengoku for over ten years, and yet he still hasn’t learned the language?”

“He could indeed be that incompetent.” By now, I knew that Mitsuhide wasn’t necessarily disagreeing with me – he was merely pointing out where I needed stronger proof.

“Ok, yes, sure. But it seems to me that whatever missions there were to send people like Aki back in time – they would have wanted the best.” But why had Aki never questioned Francisco’s language deficiencies? It seemed a critical error on his part, an error from someone who usually didn’t make errors. Unless Aki was well aware that Francisco was faking it, and pretending not to know in order to watch him? But if that were the case why give Francisco the letter for me? Ugh, I was confusing myself. Still, I needed to at least get everything out on the table before Mitsuhide started poking holes in my already shaky theory. “Suppose everything Francisco did was not incompetence, but a charade. He never intended to rescue me at the auction. But if his plan failed, he could fall back on his idiot disguise.”

If I reframed my view of everything Francisco had done, it could all have a sinister interpretation.

And here came Mr. Logic. “Was not the slave auction your idea to begin with?”

“It was. Francisco just took advantage of the opportunity I gave him.” But Mitsuhide was correct. I had brought the idea to Francisco and basically blackmailed him into it.

“Hm, and we won’t be doing anything like that again now will we?” The ‘royal we’ had returned. His arms tightened around me. “Now, you said something about the priest? I did interrogate him rather thoroughly, and he had no connection to the disappearances.”

Had I been mistaken in identifying the priest as the man who watched my gymnastics competition? I pulled the computer closer and tabbed into youtube. “Look at this.” Mitsuhide was quiet, intent as the video played. When the camera angle switched to show the priest, I paused and pinch zoomed it onto his face. “Same man?”

He leaned closer. “It is possible. The hat makes it difficult to be one hundred percent certain.” He frowned, and it seemed there was some anger being directed inward. “Though perhaps that is me not wanting to believe that my interrogation technique to be infallible. I should have-.”

My turn to shush him with my finger. “Well, you questioned him as if he was what he appeared to be, a rather vicious priest. If that in itself was a disguise… well you didn’t know about the existence of time travel, so he might have training that the average psychopath does not.” I leaned back and rested my head on his shoulder. I really hoped he wasn’t going to beat himself up over this. “You can’t know everything.”

“It is, in fact my job to know everything.” His hands massaged low circles around my back. “However, I have promised you… as well as Hideyoshi and Mai… that I will no longer take on the world alone. Nor is there much I can do about these two men right now. Not when we are here, and they are somewhere in the past.” He stood up, and took me by the hand. “Come on, Brat, you’ve worked all afternoon.”

I had at that, so I let him lead me into the den, where another of those snoozy jazz stations was playing something in the key of dull syncopation. I dropped his hand and made a beeline for the remote. No, I wasn’t planning to subject him to K-pop, but a nice movie night would be good. He beat me to it and held it over my head. “Oh that’s mature.”

Single eyebrow raise. “One person’s immature is another person’s success.” He tossed the thing onto a shelf that was above both of our heads. “Come here. This music, as opposed that shrill wailing you inexplicably like, is designed for dancing.” He pulled me into a dance hold. “Have I mentioned that I am quite fond of your era’s style of dance.”

Before I could again protest his depiction of K-pop as ‘shrill wailing,’ he had my head resting on his shoulder, as he pressed his hand on my back. His lean grace might have been made for this, as he expertly maneuvered me in a small circle around the center of the room.

Eventually, that slowed to a single swaying embrace as we clung to each other. The sun had long set, the only light came from the glow of the TV and the neighbor’s Christmas lights shining through the window.

I knew the steps of this dance we were doing, knew that soon, Mitsuhide’s lips would kiss my cheek, and then my mouth, until the dance became something else entirely.

But for the moment, I was perfectly happy melting against his body, in the more innocent hold.

We had time.

Three weeks later, and four hundred and fifty(ish) years earlier…

As soon as we “landed” back in the Sengoku and split off from Sasuke and Shingen, we made our way to Azuchi. I had expected that Mitsuhide would settle in and immediately pick up war planning with Nobunaga and Hideyoshi. And while he had indeed spent the day and half the night conferring with them, we were off to Sakai the next morning.

Our machiya in Sakai was unchanged, it was Mituhide and I who were different. We were approaching the townhouse as ourselves, not as fake merchant and reluctant concubine. There was no need to put on any act.

The real Kyubei was waiting inside to greet us. He smiled and bowed formally as if we had been gone a year rather than just a couple of months.

“Did you keep watch on…?” Mitsuhide left the rest of the question trail off, which mean this likely had more to do with my mystery surprise and less to do with whatever Motonari was doing.

I unobtrusively tried to listen in on Mitsuhide’s conversation with Kyubei, but what little I could pick up was in kind of a master/vassal shorthand of half sentences. Eventually, Mitsuhide noticed me lingering in the corner. “Dear me, is a little spy trying to spoil her surprise?”

He should be well aware by now that I was not a fan of surprises, even one that he had promised was a “good” surprise, so I just crossed my arms and glared at him.

“Patience, Brat, I’m just confirming the timing of it all.”

Knowing that was all I was going to get out of him, I retreated upstairs and unpacked the few items of clothing I’d brought to Sakai with me. As I was changing out of my dusty travel clothes, Mitsuhide joined me – and once again he was wearing the long, dark wig. “I thought the disguise was retired.” Please don’t make me dress up as Kaya. I’d happily put away the Kaya identity for good, and at the moment was wearing one of Mai’s hastily altered kimonos. Though it wasn’t completely to my taste, it was a lot more casual than the elaborate concubine disguise.

Correctly sensing the direction of thoughts, Mitsuhide helped me adjust the fold on my obi. “It’s temporary. The man we are going to see knows me only as Kyubei. You, on the other hand, are perfectly fine.” He tugged on my hair, and of course the hairstyle instantly fell apart. Without Sho to help, I was useless in the coiffure department. “In any disguise… or, er, disarray.”

He helped restore my hair, and then, in a move reminiscent of his former disguise, he extended his arm. Without any hesitation, I took it and we walked out into the chill winter evening. “Are we walking?”

“Are you saying you would prefer to huddle up in a palanquin?” The teasing smile he gave me indicated that any future palanquin travel we did would be far less innocent than our last trip. “That could, of course, be arranged, but tonight, we’re not travelling very far.”

Though I puzzled for a moment as to whether or not that had been a clue to my surprise, his purposefully bland look offered no additional help. We were not heading in the direction of Francisco’s, so that possibility was off the table. Instead, we ended up in the local retail section – not the business area with merchant’s large import/export warehouses, but the smaller apothecaries, clothing shops and tea houses patronized by the people of Sakai.

Even so, when Mitsuhide stopped in front of an herbalist’s storefront, it seemed an odd choice. My confusion grew when he led me through the shop and up the stairs to the living area. Once we reached the top of the stairs, he stepped aside, allowing me to face the man who had risen from his dinner to greet us.

A man whose face I had seen nearly every day until I was nineteen… and after that, had only been viewable via a drawing. “Toshiie!”

While my brother stood there stunned, I threw myself into his arms. “I thought I saw you in Sakai last fall… but I figured I was imagining it.”

He allowed me a long hug before stepping out of the embrace. “I was going to rescue you… I just needed more time to…” He glanced at the teapot on the table.

“Rescue me? From what?” It sounded like Toshiie had… already known I was in Sakai?

He turned and faced Mitsuhide. “Him.”

@lorei-writes @bestbryn @selenacosmic @lyds323 @tele86 @akitsuneswife

#10things #10 things I hate about Mitsuhide #mitsuhide monday #mitsuhide akechi #ikesen mitsuhide #ikemen sengoku #fanfic #ao3 link #oc katsuko #katsuverse

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