#kingdom of the brine

[ladyabaniko]

#arthur curry #king nereus #brine king #aquaman #aquaman the lost kingdom

[simmeringstarfruit]

Salt Grilled Fish

Flavourful easy salt grilled fish. A simple brined fish recipe that’s perfect for dinner, especially when paired with grilled mushrooms or vegetables. Whether it’s grilled on the barbecue or baked in the oven, this salt grilled fish recipe is ready to eat in less than an hour. Inspired by the salt grilled fish from Zelda Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom. Jump to Recipe Printable…

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#barbecued fish recipe #Breath of the Wild #brined fish recipe #easy dinner recipe #fish recipe #grilled fish #quick dinner ideas #salt grilled fish #Tears of the Kingdom

[starkeyscvmsock]

Say sorry - Rafe Cameron

About: You and Rafe argue over your friendship with the Pogues, inevitably ending in you saying you’re done and not talking to him for two weeks. So what happens when Kelce and Topper force you both into a room to ‘talk it out’. Let’s just say, not much talking happens ;)

(inspired by the scene where Kiara and Sarah are forced to make up)

MINORS DNI, 18+

Two weeks ago

I bought the joint to my mouth, closing my mouth around the heart shaped filter as I sucked the substance in, allowing the buzz to travel through not only my lungs but my nerves and limbs. I exhaled, my feet kicked up on the table as I slumped back into the couch, alone at the Chateau.

Kiara had a shift at the wreck, John B was working over on the boat at the Cameron's and JJ and Pope had gone to make some deliveries to the Kook kingdom. As I exhaled, two figures emerged behind the smoke, one of them stumbling through the door with a hand on his ribs. I waved my hand in front of me, causing the smoke to disperse as I took in Pope and JJ both with a look of rage on their faces.

Pope's face was not only plastered with rage but blood and bruises too. "What the fuck happened?" I shot to my feet as I ran to Pope, holding his arm and trying to take him to the couch as blood trickled from his nose. "I'm fine" he said as he yanked his arm away from me, walking over by himself and sitting on the couch. "I'm going to fucking kill him" JJ seethed as he yanked his hat off and ran his fingers through his sweaty blonde locks.

"Great, who are we killing and why?" I said, exasperated as no one was telling me what the hell had happened. "He won't get away with this, Pope" JJ ignored me as he began to pace. "Guys! What the fuck happened?" I repeated again as I walked over to the kitchen and grabbed some tissue and frozen peas from the freezer. "Your kook king boyfriend that's who. Rafe fucking Cameron" JJ scoffed, "beat Pope with a god damn golf club".

I froze, my hand stilling as I was about to bring a tissue up to Pope's dripping nose. "He did this?" I asked as my hand dropped to my lap as I sat on the table in front of Pope, he plucked the tissue from my hand and bought it to his nose himself. "Yeah, and I don't know why you're acting so surprised, your boyfriend is a psycho" JJ spat as he threw his hat down on the arm chair with force and crossed his arms, a look of disgust on his face.

Annoyance coursed through me as I stood and made my way over to JJ. "First of all, stop calling him my boyfriend, we're just friends" I spat, which earned me an eye roll from him. "Second of all, stop acting like this is my god damn fault, just because the Kooks and Pogues have this ridiculous beef that I refuse to indulge in, doesn't make me any less one of you guys" my voice started to raise as I pointed my finger at JJ, trying my hardest to get my point across.

JJ stepped towards me, looking down at me as he spoke. "I don't care who he is to you or give a damn about any beef for that, but like I said," he began as he took a step closer to me with each word that was going to leave his mouth. "I'm. Going. To. Kill. Him" he seethed. "No, I am" Pope piped up from the couch. "Neither of you are" I said, causing a look of disbelief to cast over both boy's faces. "Because I am" I spat as I grabbed my car keys before picking up the frozen peas and shoving it into JJ's chest. "Clean him up" I ordered before making my way to the door.

I stopped before I reached outside, my hand on the door frame as I looked back. "Pope" I said, causing the boy's head to perk up as he looked over to me. "Yeah?" he asked, grabbing another piece of tissue and brining it to his eyebrow. "I'm so sorry he did this" I said softly, my friendship with Rafe causing guilt to seep through my veins for some reason. "Not your fault" Pope smiled before wincing and clutching his cheek. "The ice pack, use it" I said sternly. "I'll be back in a bit".

The whole ride to Rafe's house, anger bubbled beneath my skin, my fists perpetually white the whole time from clenching the steering wheel. I was ready to explode when I finally hopped out of my car, slamming the door behind me. I heard laughing off to the side of the house, where Rafe's personal gym is. I stormed over, abruptly stopping in the doorway as I layed eyes on Rafe sat on the edge of the weight bench, shirtless with sweat beading on his golden skin.

The room quietened as Topper and Kelce looked over at me from their spots on the floor, leaning on their hands behind them with their legs outstretched. "Come to join the workout?" Rafe stood, a smile on his face as he grabbed a towel that was hanging over the handle of the treadmill and began to wipe his glistening chest. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I snapped. His smile fell and his hand froze.

He shrugged. "I'm guessing this is about my little run in with your boyfriend earlier, huh?" he asked as he threw the towel back onto the treadmill, getting into a hostile stance as he crossed his arms. "What is with the male species today? Is the only thing they know how to call each other my god damn boyfriend?" I seethed. I heard a laugh slip from Kelce but he soon became quiet when I shot him a look that could kill.

"And little run in? Really Rafe? That's what you wanna call it?" I laughed sarcastically. "You beat him with a god damn golf club!" I shouted. "Okay, okay, it wasn't that bad" Topper said, holding out his hands as if I was going to strike any moment. The room went silent as I looked over at Rafe, not an ounce of remorse in his ocean blue eyes. "You've really got nothing to say for yourself?" I said quietly, a feeling of defeat coursing through me.

Rafe just shrugged, uncrossing his arms as he bent down to grab his water bottle, uncapping the lid. "I did what I did, nothing I say would change that anyway" he said nonchalantly before taking a sip. I nodded, feeling dejected. "Fine. Then I'm done" I scoffed as I made a move to leave but Topper spoke up. "Woah, woah, it was a mistake okay? Everyone makes mistakes" he said, defending someone who didn't even care to be defended. "Yeah, this is so not worth losing a friendship over" Kelce spoke up.

"He decided this was worth losing me over when he decided to do it" I steeled my spine, casting one last look at Rafe who just looked at me with his jaw clenched before I shook my head, a quiet huff falling from my lips before I turned my back and walked out.

                                      Present

"What do you want Topper?" I groaned as he dragged me to his house. "I need help choosing some birthday presents for Sarah, you've got to help me" he said, exasperated as he pulled my arm towards his front door. "Birthday present? Her birthday isn't for months" I pointed out, puzzled. "You know he likes to be organised" Kelce said as he pulled my other arm.

I looked to both boys on my arms, a wave of sadness washing over me as I thought to Rafe, who would usually be on my arm as the other two trailed behind us. I hadn't spoken to him in two weeks, not since he beat up Pope who's bruises and cuts were only now starting to fully heal. Not for lack of trying on his behalf, he had called me about a hundred times and the string of messages he had sent me was ridiculously long. But only the last one had caught my eye, warranting the reason for my lack of response; I'm not going to apologise but if you want to talk you know where to find me.

He was such a stubborn jerk and no matter how much I missed him, I wouldn't talk to him until he apologised. Which I knew he would never do. We reached the front door, Topper and Kelce finally letting go of their grips on my arms as they slinked back while I walked inside. I opened my mouth to speak when I looked to the couch in Topper's lounge, finding the one and only Rafe Cameron sat on it. Not for long though as when he saw me, he shot to his feet,  a look of surprise on his face.

I stayed silent, shock rooting me to my spot as we held each other's gaze before he spoke. "What the hell is she doing here?" he spat, his look of surprise now morphing to one of anger. "Have fun!" My eyebrows furrowed as I heard the door slam shut behind me and the lock click. I swung around, seeing Topper and Kelce on the other side of the glass door, smug grins on their stupid faces. "We're not letting you out until you make up so I suggest you get to it quickly" Kelce laughed.

"Let me out" I seethed as I tried my hardest to budge the door, earning a scoff from Rafe behind me. "Snacks are on the coffee table, see ya!" Topper grinned before they walked away, hopping in to Kelce's car and finally driving off, not before waving at me exaggeratedly from the open window. I flipped them off, anger coursing through me before I backed away from the door, running my fingers through my hair in frustration.

Rafe blew out a huff of air before slumping back down onto the couch. This was a big house, I could avoid Rafe until they came back. With my plan in mind, I stalked over to the only other door in the room that lead to the kitchen that in turn led to the rest of the house. I wiggled the door handle, annoyed when the door wouldn't budge. "You've got to be kidding me" I seethed as I pushed my shoulder at the door.

"Unless you wanna break your shoulder, I suggest you just give up" Rafe scoffed. I took a deep breath, centring myself before I did something I would regret like punch him in his damn face. I turned around and leant against the door, defeated. I looked over to the only other inhabitant in the room, blanching when he plucked something from the pocket of his trousers, a baggy with white powder coming into view. "Seriously?" I shook my head, rolling my eyes as I crossed my arms. "If I'm going to be stuck in here with you, might as well make it bearable" he said without looking at me, pouring some of the powder out and plucking his credit card out, lining it up in two neat lines.

"Yeah, because I'm the problem here" I laughed sarcastically. Rafe plucked a hundred dollar bill out of his wallet before expertly rolling it up, the lamp light glinting off the ring on his index finger. He bent down, snorting up both of the lines before throwing his head back and sniffing while rubbing his finger under his nose and then finally he looked at me, for the first time since he watched me walk in. "Maybe you are" he shrugged, before looking away again and dusting off the table, placing the note back in the wallet and the card back in his pocket.

"And how'd you figure that?" I asked, anger coursing through me as my fists clenched the bottom of my shorts. "You think you're so damn perfect. Little pogue princess can make no mistakes" he seethed as he stood up, making his way towards me as I tried to back up but couldn't, the door handle digging into my back. "So damn self righteous" he chuckled, inching closer and closer. "I'd rather be self righteous than a psycho who goes around beating people up" I seethe. "At least I'm not killing people" he smirks.

"God, what is wrong with you? You're going to end up with no one if you keep pushing people away Rafe" his eyes darken and I see his jaw twitch as he steps toe to toe, our faces inches apart. "I'll end up with everything" he seethes. "I'm going to have an empire one day and people will bow down at my feet. What will you have? You'll end up as nothing you fucking pog-" I don't let him finish, my body acting on autopilot as my hand reaches up and smacks him straight across the face.

His head swings to the side, redness already starting to appear before slowly, a sadistic smirk crosses his mouth, his tongue darting into the side of the cheek as he turns his head slowly towards me. "You're going to pay for that" he whispers.

My heart begins to race and the idea of fight or flight flashes across my mind before I choose flight, pushing him back and with the element of surprise, he stumbles and I manage to rush past him. Then the fact that I have nowhere to go stuns me, causing me to halt as I look at the front door. The locked front door. A yelp rips from my throat as I feel his arm wrap around my waist, he lifts me up and I try my hardest to kick and fight. "Let me go!" I yell, but he ignores me, instead wrapping his arm around me tighter and bringing his head close to mine. "What should I do with you, huh?" he asks as I slowly stop struggling, realising it'll do me no good.

I pop my head back and I hear him groan when it crashes into his cheekbone, causing him to let me go. I make a run for it again but he grabs my wrist, his hand engulfing it as he yanks me back. I gasp when my foot catches on the coffee table and I fall back, Rafe following me due to the suddenness and his grip on me. I land on my back and wince when my head crashes against the carpet, Rafe crashing on top of me but stopping himself from crushing me completely by catching himself on his hands on either side of my head.

"Fuck" I groan, my eyes opening again after having been squeezed shut from the pain. Once, they're fully open, my gaze lands on Rafe laying above me, his hair falling down by his eyes and his cheek red. But his eyes, his eyes are a darker shade of blue, like the ocean under the light of the moonlit sky and they're looking down at me, unblinking.  We're both panting, tired from our struggle and in the midst of the silence, I become aware of his body on top of mine, his jeans feeling rough against my bare legs as his grey jumper tickles against my stomach.

I gulp, and Rafe's eyes finally leave mine before trailing down my face and finally landing on my lips. I'm still angry, furious at the way he spoke to me, the way he grabbed me. My expression that was glazed, now hardened and a smirk began to play across his pink lips as he watched the transformation happen, almost as if he wanted me to be angry. My teeth clenched and my fists balled as I reach up, ready to knock him off me, but suddenly his lips, the ones that I was looking at mere moments ago were now on mine. I froze, as did he, our lips locked and hearts pumping.

After a few moments, we pulled away, our lips slowly unlocking as I looked up at him, his eyes wild as he looked down at me. I gulped and then he groaned, he groaned before grasping the back of my neck and pulling me to him, kissing me once more. But this time was oh so different, he was wild and careless, making me release a sigh into his mouth as I grasped his jumper, pulling me to him as our teeth clashed and mouths explored.

We were frantic, touching any parts of each other that we could as he ran his fingers through the side of my hair and I clutched onto his at the back of his head. My brain was empty apart from one thought, this was a long time coming. Rafe Cameron had been my fried for a while now, but God did I want him to be more when I would watch him glisten in sweat after a work out or when I would see him emerge from the water at the beach. Hell, I wanted him to be more when he was sleeping and peaceful, when he was reading a book which he told me he would kill me if I told anyone he did.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when his hands dug into my hips before lifting me up, standing before placing me on the couch, hovering over me. Our lips not leaving each other's the whole time. A whine left me and Rafe chuckled when he finally pulled away, ripping his jumper over his head, wasting no time and allowing me none to take him in before leaning back down and burying his face in my neck. He was a mess of teeth and tongue, licking and biting nerves that I felt down in my core, gasping when I bucked my hips and Rafe rolled against me.

I lifted up, yanking my top over my head and I grinned when Rafe stilled, his eyes frozen on my bare breasts, my nipples hard from the sudden cold air and from the touch of his gaze. "Fuck" he groaned before pushing me back down with a hand wrapped around my neck before attacking my breast with his mouth. His lips sucked on it, his teeth enclosing it every now and then as he pulled back, stretching it with the pull. He switched between the two as I threw my head back, running my hands through his soft hair. I cursed myself as I pulled his head off, pushing him back to sit down as I crawled onto the ground, kneeling between his open legs.

"Really?" he smirked as I popped open his button and dragged his zipper down. "Really" I said, my plan circulating my head as I took in his beautiful smug face. I reached my hands inside of his jeans as he lifted my hair into a makeshift ponytail, I took him out and felt my mouth salivate as I took in his pretty pink tip and the pre cum leaking from it, a small portion of what was begging to be released from him. I gulped, a lump forming in my throat and my core pulsing, making me feel almost dizzy from how turned on I was as I took in the angry veins circulating his cock, beckoning me to taste them.

I looked up into his eyes, seeing him watch me with his plump bottom lip between his teeth, his cheeks pink and a bead of sweat forming near his hair. "Please baby, I need you" he groaned as he bucked his hips into the air. One of his hands left my hair and moved towards it as if he was so desperate for me he was going to start stroking it himself. I grabbed his hand, placing it back in my hair before I moved my head forward, keeping eye contact with the mess of a boy before me before I darted my tongue out, leaking the bead of precum that had begun to roll down his long length.

A gasp left his throat and his eyes fluttered closed for a moment before they opened again, taking purchase on me. I peppered a few kisses on his wet, pulsing tip before I put him out of his torture and took him into my mouth, feeling satisfied when a groan left Rafe's gaping lips. I moaned, his salty sweetness coating my tongue as I bobbed my head up and down rapidly, my hands stroking the parts I couldn't take into my mouth, "That feels so good baby, shit" he moaned as he threw his head back, his eyes finally leaving mine as they squeezed shut.

One of his hands left my hair, his arm moving to lay on the back of the couch as he squeezed it while his other hand stayed in my hair, gripping the strands for dear life. His hips began to pump up, matching my strokes as I watched his Adam's apple bob up and down. His lips parted and his chest heaving, he looked like a piece of art. My core clenched and I had half a mind to reach into my shorts and relieve the pressure that I felt but my sole focus was to focus on Rafe, to make him feel good and prove I wasn't nothing.

"Shit I- I think I- I'm gonna come baby" he groaned and at the sound of the nickname, I moaned, causing him to hiss and his head to lift back up, his gaze back on me as the thrust of his hips became stronger. I looked into his eyes, mine hardening as I pulled away with a pop,  a string of spit still connecting us. "W- What are you doing?" He whined, his eyebrows furrowing. When I didn't answer, his hand reached down, ready to touch himself but I grabbed it, holding it down. "Say sorry."

"You've gotta be kidding me" he groaned, his head falling back on the couch as he tried to tug his hand away from my grip but the satisfaction made me strong, strong enough to keep his hand down. His cock twitched in front of me, it had become red and angry from the lack of attention and the sight made me want to give up and just take him back in my mouth but he had to know he couldn't just treat me like shit and get what he wanted.

"All you've got to do is say sorry and I'll make you come" when he didn't speak, I leant forward and blew air through my lips onto the tip, making more precum roll out. "Okay, shit. Fuck I- I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry. God I need you" he groaned as his hips pumped into nothing, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes glistening. A look of satisfaction crossed over me as I let his hand go which instantly went to the back of my head pushing it down,

I felt him reach the back of my throat, I hollowed my cheeks and hummed around him and then finally, hot spurts of cum filled my mouth, the feeling causing my eyes to roll back as he groaned loudly and without shame, his hips thrusting up and burying himself fully into my mouth, causing him to bulge in my throat and push his own cum down into it. "Fuck, fuck, fuck" he hissed as I swallowed around him. His heaving chest slowed down as he lowered his hips and I raised my lips, my cheeks hollowed along the way so I could wipe every ounce of cum from him.

Rafe looked at me in awe as I swallowed again, not letting any of him go to waste as I savoured his taste. "Get the fuck over here" he smirked, not allowing me to move an inch before he grabbed my arms and yanked me up, laying me back down onto the couch. His fingers rushed, undoing the button of my shorts and pulling down the zipper hurriedly before yanking them off, along with my underwear. His gaze lowered and landed on my core, a smug look crossing his face as he took in the sight of my glistening wetness. "Look at you, so fucking wet" he said, mostly to himself as he stared down, his cock getting harder and harder.

"I did this, didn't I baby?" he smirked as he leant down over me, running his thumb across my cheek. Words evaded my frazzled brain, causing me to only nod. His smirk fell as his slow stroke of my cheek became a grip on the back of my neck, causing me to gasp and my core to clench. "Use your fucking words or you can get yourself off" he seethed. My heart began to thump harder and my cheeks heated as I looked up into his eyes. "Yes Rafe, it's you" I looked up at him.

His eyes so beautiful, a shade darker than I'd ever seen them at the pleasure he was feeling, framed by long lashes. His smooth, golden skin and his plump pink lips that tasted just as good as they looked. "It's always been you" I whispered as I wrapped my arms around his neck. He leant down, touching his forehead to mine as his eyes fluttered closed, our chests touching and hearts beating in sync. The moment was gone when he pulled back and spoke, "I'll show you it's always been you, baby. I'm gonna fuck you till you forget we're not the only people in this damn world" he groaned and I gasped as he slammed into me.

My back arched as I tried to accommodate his size in me, feeling him stretching me wider and wider than I'd ever felt. He reached a depth inside of me as he bottomed out that I didn't know I even had within me. "And you're going to take every inch and fucking. Love. It" he punctuated each word with a harsh thrust, causing moans to fall from my parted lips. The euphoria travelling through my body made me want to squeeze my eyes shut as it suffocated me, but I didn't want to look away from Rafe's face. To the furrow of his eyebrows and the tint of his cheeks as he looked down at me. "Harder" I groaned as I gripped his waist, certain there would be a bruise when this was over.

"That's my girl" he smirked before pulling out of me, confusion washed over me before he flipped me over, placing a pillow under my hips, thrusting back in harder than before. "This what you want? Wanna be fucked like my little slut, huh?" He ground out into my ear, wrapping my hair around his fist and pulling my head back with his other hand wrapped around my throat, his ring digging into me with his harsh grip. "Huh?" he said louder, as he yanked my hair so hard my scalp started to burn.

"Yes, God yes. Please" I moaned out and tears started to roll out of my eyes as they squeezed shut. "Fuck, yeah baby" Rafe groaned, his hot breath hitting my ear as he panted, his thrusts harsh and punishing. Tingles shot down from my core to my toes, causing them to curl as my stomach tingled. It felt a little easier to breathe when Rafe's hand retreated from my throat, I wondered where he was going to place it as his hands hadn't left me once since I head butted him.

I cried out when his hand came down on my cheek, and shock washed over me when my pussy spasmed and heat filled every inch of my body at the feeling of the sting on my cheek. Rafe then gripped my face harshly, my cheeks pushing into my teeth and lips puckering as he squeezed. "I told you you'd pay, didn't I baby?" he whispered into my ear as he pulled my hips higher, his grip on my hip tight as his fingers dug into my flesh. "And I'm a man of my fucking word" he ground out as he bought his hand down on my ass.

I moaned out and he chuckled in my ear as my back arched and my panting grew heavier. His hand reached around my front and I twitched when he pinched my clit before rubbing my clit with his long, warm fingers. Heat spread through me and I knew I was there. So was Rafe if his ragged thrusts and staggered breathing in my ear was any indication. "I- I'm going to come" I ground out as I met his thrusts, pushing back into him. "Me too, come on baby" he groaned as he thrust harshly into me. He twisted his head to the side and crashed his lips down to mine, his tongue clashing with mine, his lips biting down onto the flesh of my bottom lip every now and then.

With the mixture of a particularly hard thrust, his calloused finger pressing my swollen clit and his warm lips hugging my own, electricity washed over me and thunder bolts flashed behind my eye lids as they squeezed shut. "Shit baby" Rafe groaned and I felt him spill inside of me. I cried out, clenching around him as I came, milking him and me as his hips stuttered and his hands held me warmly.

"Fuck" I groaned as the heat washed away and all that was left was Rafe laying on my back, his forehead against mine and his breath coasting against my lips. "You're mine now, you know that right?" he whispered. For some reason, despite the violence, the stubbornness and the god damn psychotics of Rafe Cameron... I was his and he was mine.

#rafe obx #rafe smut #smut #rafe cameron #imagine

[riririkinzi]

I hey guys new AU comimg up! Of Elf Ballister living in the forest parenting and taking care of Nimona the big dragon and other little dragons, that he claims as his children

Got the idea from the Game of Thrones (I never watch that show) and Wolfwalkers

FATHER OF THE DRAGONS

-Okay, so it stared in the kingdom where it's known to be against magical creatures and and magic itself

-Bal's parents are elves, his mother a sorceress and father a merchant in disguise as humans

-Since childhood Bal's mother taught him magic, while he studies like regular children

-Got a scholarship in a privelage school, that's where he met ambrosius

-At age 10 both of his parents died from the incidents, sent into the orphanage that day, still studied magic in secret, and still goes to school thanks to Queen valerin

-Got a room to stay after the orphanage when he was 18

-While practicing his spells without his human disguise, he was exposed as an elf and people were chasing while brining his mothers spellbook and other important item and ran into the woods

-While on the run, he found a giant dragon which is actually a shapeshifter named Nimona injured while being surrounded by bunch of baby dragons

-Bal used his healing spell on Nimona that the little dragons are attached to him

-Bal knew that the dragons aren't safe anywhere near society so he decided to lead Nimona and the dragons into the woods far far away and settled with them

-One day an man spotted Bal in torn and burnt clothing and covered in ashes and the dragon surrounded him in the cave as a puppy pile and nurturing them, thus he returned to the village and began spread the story of Ballister the Father of the Dragons, which became a legend after a few short years.

-Oh and what does Bal look like in the present? Well, he's either naked and covered in ashes of the dragons burned or torn clothing yet stilled covered in ahses

Art is coming soon

#nimona #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #ambrosius x ballister #ballister x ambrosius #au #goldenheart #dragons

[stirringwinds]

what do you think of the canon version of China finding chibi Japan in a bamboo forest

I do enjoy a lot of the inherent weirdness and charm of hetalia canon, and I think the clear Princess Kaguya / Tale of the Bamboo Cutter reference is cute, but ngl it's one thing I do personally retcon completely because I like these old men salted and brined in the convoluted mess that is asian imperial politics: to re-situate Kiku and Yao within the reality of Chinese imperialism, the Sinosphere and also the fact that Yong-soo (whom I see as also being the older Korean kingdom of Silla) would've known of and relayed Kiku's existence to Yao first, given the history of Korean-Japanese contact and the Korean peninsular's long history as a cultural intermediary (and also point of conflict) between Japan and China.

I tentatively think Yao very likely met Kiku for the very first time when Kiku arrived as part of an early Japanese diplomatic embassy to China, and the vibes were more like this (I couldn't find a picture of a younger looking envoy and I definitely see Kiku as much younger physically—but anw, that pic is an artistic representation the shamaness-queen Himiko during the Yayoi period of Japan):

I don't see Yao 'raising' Kiku in any sense that mirrors the way I see Arthur directly claiming and exercising responsibility over Alfred; I feel that Yao and Kiku started out quite firmly as an empire-tributary dynamic (which is different from colony and empire) with a certain arms-length distance—Yao is kind of arrogant during that period too (to put it mildly) and he's like 'oh you're the boy Yong-soo referred to huh. Interesting. You can add your name to the sign-up sheet of tributaries there. Bring me gifts, will you?' There is an eventual (regicidal) mentor-protege dynamic I see forming, but Yao is very busy being an empire when he and Kiku first meet; he would consider Kiku an amusing and intriguing diversion to keep an eye on, but he is for the time-being, much more embroiled in his ambitions in continental Asia, such as his wars against other nations like Lien (Vietnam).

#hetalia #hws china #hws japan #hws south korea #hws vietnam #hetalia headcanons

[dduane]

Diners first making the acquaintance of this modern Arlene high-table delicacy generally become too busy enjoying it to bother inquiring about its origins. But its refined appearance as served by the royal kitchens in Prydon to the King's guests (or to casual passers-by, since Kynall Castle's refectories are open to all) goes far to conceal its robust genesis as a fishermen's dish of the coastal and riverine country between the eastern and western branches of the Upper Arlid.

The original version of what would later be known as "Silver and Gold" (Arl./N.Arl. Dekhen-u-Ihrsen) was devised by North Arlene prawn fishermen who needed to find a use for shellfish they'd caught that were too small or damaged to offer in the coastal markets of Fûrdéin and Asfahæg. These "subpar" shrimp would be boiled in brine abroad ship and then kept submerged in frequently-renewed seawater until the fishermen made port.

There the ocean shrimp-fishers would meet with their freshwater-fishing counterparts, some of whom would be bringing in new-landed starscale pike (and other types) from the broad and busy breeding grounds of the upper Arlid delta. Cooked salt-water prawns would readily enough be bartered for sweetwater pike and their fine-grained, golden roe—or acquired by taverners in the "borderer" port towns east and west of Rûl Tyn—and cooked together with them.

A popular longshoremen's approach, because it kept well after cooking, was to mix and bind the chopped-up shrimps with grated dried bread and egg to make fish balls or thick cakes. These would be stuffed with chunks of roe from either marine or riverine fish—pike's roe being a favorite for its buttery and slightly smoky flavor, and the roes sometimes being cooked separately first. Then the (sometimes) breaded fishcakes would be fried in whatever fat was regionally most plentiful.1 The fried cakes could afterward be served up in a number of ways: by themselves—though often dipped in savory sauces heavy on whitefruit—pressed onto bread trenchers or sippets and sauced on top, or wrapped in wheaten or oaten platebreads in the Darthene coastal style.

But later on, during the period in the mid-1900s p.A.d.2 when a series of dynastic and climatic disasters led the North Arlene crown to resign most of its major functions to the Arlene Throne, the nature of the dish (as of many others originally native to North Arlen) began to change. Late-century cooks in Prydon and other northern Arlene cities began to upscale North Arlene cuisine in general as a kind of culinary tribute to a kingdom in decline. In the process they transformed this coastline shellfish dish into a more sophisticated composition seen (correctly or incorrectly) as more suited to urban palates, and tailored to emphasize the fresh marine flavor of the prawns.

The dish's modern name refers specifically to the classic Prydon-devised version in which the pale color of the meat of the shrimp is made to contrast strongly with the gold of pike caviar—in this presentation, now delicately rubbed out of the original "skeins" of roe to be served on top. And while we can certainly approach the flavor of the dish when making it on our own Earth, one thing we can't approach is the perfect paleness of the Arlene versions.

This is because we lack a specific and vital ingredient: the Arlene pewter shrimp, Metacrangon peltrumis medioregnis. While otherwise generally similar to Crangon crangon, the common our-Earth north Atlantic "gray shrimp", M. peltrumis is missing something normally commonplace among crustaceans: the protein complex called astaxanthin, which normally reacts with another complex called crustacyanin to produce the red shell and pinkish flesh coloration typical of cooked shrimps.3 As a result, the cooked flesh of the pewter shrimp is pure white, with no other colors to interfere with the shrimp's silvery presentation on the plate.

These more citified versions of dekhen-u-ihrsen involve, somewhat paradoxically, less cooking but more labor. After peeling and deveining, the cooked and chopped pewter shrimp are crushed and pounded in a mortar... hence the term "brayed" in the recipe name. (This indicates that the mortared shrimp mixture has a consistency smoother than something knife-chopped, but nonetheless more textured than an otherwise-mechanically produced puree.) After the addition of soured cream and spices, the mixture is molded between spoons and chilled in an ice-room until it firms slightly, and then served forth on toasted sippets and topped with iced pike caviar.

The use of the term "sallet" in the recipe name harks back (in one linguistic direction) to our many uses for the word "salad", and (in a different, more archaic one) to transitional early-1900s versions of the dish in which the pounded and formed shrimp was served out on roasted lettuce or cooked bitterleaf greens. In current versions, such as the one we illustrate here, greens are often still part of the presentation. But the main theme of the dish remains the contrast between the pale delicacy of the pounded shrimp and the glistening gold of the caviar.

See the right-hand tab on this page for the full recipe. 

1 In North Arlen this would normally be sunflower, palm oil, or treenut oil (from the Middle Kingdoms version of our Shea tree, Vitellaria paradoxa).

2 The commonly-used abbreviation for pai Ajnedäre derüwin: "since the Arrival". i.e. of the Dragons, and the destruction of the Dark.

3 More information on our Earth's recent discovery of this chemical interaction can be found in this interesting paper.

#Middle Kingdoms #Middle Kingdoms meta #Food and Cooking of the Middle Kingdoms #recipe

[overallsandfunnyhats]

Do you think Mario has moments where the pressure of being the Mushroom Kingdoms protector gets too much for him to bear? Or where he feels like he’s not good enough and or brining Luigi down? Even he has his limits. I feel like if that does happen Luigi would do whatever he could to help his brother feel better and show how much he loves him and how he most definitely doesn’t bring him down.

Definitely, but he would never show it. I see Mario as the kind of person who puts others' well-being before his own. I don't think he understands his own limits very well, and he often pushes himself too far, especially if it's for the benefit of others. Maybe deep down he realizes what he is doing, but I think he's too stubborn to stop. After years of having so many expectations of him, he can't fail, he's Mario! Failure is probably something he fears, even the smallest of failures. I think Luigi sees this and gently tries to make Mario relax. I don't think it's an easy job, because once Mario has started a task, little to nothing will stop him until he has achieved his goal. He's very driven like that. I also think through the years Mario has had to deal with a lot of uncomfortable things. It would be good for him to sit down and work through his emotions, but it would also mean allowing himself to become vulnerable. I don't think he wants that. So he works, to distract himself. I think he's the kind of person who constantly has to do something, he can't sit still, or he will become uneasy. To sum it up, I think Mario is overworked and there's a lot of pressure on him, but he never stops working long enough to deal with it -

[jellyfishloveletterghosts]

My Harringrove Au List N-Z

PART 1 A-M

Necromancer

Baby Did You Come Back Wrong - Steve brings Billy back and he needs more than a burger and fries to survive. 

I’d Sell My Soul to a Devil - Steve sacrifices himself to save Billy at Starcourt. Billy makes a promise to get him back, it's going to take him a while but he plans to keep that promise. Even if he has to make a deal with a demon to do it. Even if the price isn't right.

Necromancin Dancin - Billy died at Starcout, he doesn't stay that way for long.

Sear Through Me - Billy is an asshole with magic, the upside down latches onto him, and he is an unwilling puppet. When he faces the mind flayer at Starcourt he knows he is going to die. Steve doesn't let him.

You Can’t Kill Love - Chrissy dies and Eddie goes to Steve looking to bring her back.

Omegaverse

Beauty and The Beast - Mr. Harrington takes a rose and instead of paying the price the beast of the castle demands himself, he sends his son in his stead. Billy is not sure what to do with an omega who not only does not cower away from him like everyone else but also seems to think he is a slob and keeps trying his patience. (Magic and Royalty)

Benefits of Surviving - Billy finds Steve at the gate when the demobats attack.It would be a happier affair if they weren't trapped and Steve wasn't on the brink of a heat.

Come On Alpha - Steve is tired of waiting for Billy to make a move, so he takes matters into his own hands.

Everything I do Is To Bring Me Closer To You - Billy has a long way to go before he can make his dream of marrying Steve a reality. (Royalty and Magic)

Find Comfort In Me - Billy needs a comfort omega after surviving Starcourt. Steve is absolutely not who he expected Hopper to hire. He didn’t even know Steve was an omega.

First Impression - Alpha Billy meeting Steve for the first time at Tina's party.

Flirt Like A Bird - Billy wants to woo Steve, he tries a couple of options that haven't gone well. He tries a new tactic.

Giants Blood - Highborn Omega Steve finally realizing Alpha wildling Billy has been courting him. 

Hay In Your Hair, Mud On My Boots (Series) - Loose Yellowstone inspired au

Need An Alpha To Pop A Knot - Steve's an alpha who's never popped a knot, not until Billy comes along.

Omegas Like Us Have To Stick Together - Steve presents at the mall and bites and cries when any alpha or beta gets to close. Luckily Billy shows up more than willing to help when the end game is getting to keep Steve.

Smoke - Billy is ditching class for a smoke break when Steve comes along.

Track In A Crowd - Billy and Steve find each other by scent at a party. (Model Steve/Musician Billy)

You’re My Bitch - Omega Billy fucking alpha Steve and the one time he finally lets Steve knot him.

You’re Extra Special, Something Else - Billy and Max escape Neil and move to Hawkins, where Billy sets his sights on Steve Harrington.

Party Clown

Clown Shoe (Series) - Billy gets a job as a party clown, Steve has some mixed feeling about it but mostly he’s just horny.

Pirates

Part 1 and 2 - A pirates of the Caribbean/ Princess Bride mash up

Professional Athlete

Thaw the Ice - Steve needs a new Coach. Billy is here for the job.

Reanimated

You Will Be Made New Again - Jonathan and Tommy succeed in brining Billy back from the dead, Steve their exasperated neighbor is the only thing that can get him to cooperate. AKA A Frankenstein's monster Billy fic. (Collage/University Au)

Royalty 

Dragons Are Hoarders - The kingdom of Harrington offers up anything in the treasury for the return of their lost heir. Billy just so happens to need something they have in their possession. Things of course do not go to plan. (Magic)

The Jester and His King - King Steve getting railed by his jester. 

Pretty Fool (Series) - Snapshots from King Billy and Jester Steve’s exploits around the castle. 

Roommates 

And They Were Roommates - Steve and Billy are roommates, Billy is less than pleased when Steve gets a boyfriend.

Avoidance Techniques - Billy keeps getting drunk at frat parties, and Steve is his roommate who keeps getting called to pick him up. (College/University Au)

The Case of The Missing Clothes - Steve's clothes have been going missing, he finally finds where they've all been going. (College/University Au)

Fill That Hole in Your Life - Pandemic/Quarantine Au - Billy and Steve figure some stuff out during the pandemic when all they have is each other for company. 

Scarecrow

Have Some Fun - Steve gets drunk and wanders into Billy's corn maze.

Sea Creature

A Bargain - Steve is a lonely merman who seeks out the sea witch to help him find love.

Salt Skin - Friends don’t plan and construct elaborate surprises that take weeks to prepare and involve a contractor, no that’s beyond friend behavior and edging dangerously close to courting behavior. Except Steve had gone and hurtled right over that line and presents Billy with a gift so fantastic he can no longer ignore his feelings. 

The Whale and The Danio - Steve loses his school, and Billy finds him.

Secret Relationship

The Hard Stuff - When Steve comes over and follows Billy to his bedroom, Tommy over hears them fucking and misunderstands what is going on. 

Serial Killers 

Bloody Summer (Series) - Billy meets Steve at summer camp where the counselors keep dropping like flies. 

Sex Worker

Billy with a Cane - Billy never expected to find Steve working in a strip club.

Camboy/Farmer Steve - Billy comes to help Max with her form and runs into his favorite camboy.

December To New Years - Camboy Steve and his budding relationship with Billy.

Roommates with Pornstar Billy - As a joke Billy gets Steve a subscription to the site he works for. If he’s hoping Steve watches his videos well that’s his business. 

Virgin Territory - Steve accidentally admits to knowing about Billy's cam work, things go a lot better than he ever thought they would.

Soulmates

Let Me Take Your Pain - Billy and Steve are soulmates, they don't find that out till they fight.

Love at First Fight - Love at first sight is bullshit as far as Steve is concerned, he has given up on it. 

Space

Frozen Beauty? - Billy sees Steve cryo frozen for the first time when he’s eight, the older he gets the more obsessed he becomes until he finally has his boy.

WSwaBEwaB - Bounty hunter Billy takes a job that leads him to cyborg Steve.

Star Wars

Come To The Dark Side - Steve and Billy are separated by the Jedi. Billy joins the Sith as a way to find his way back to Steve and get some revenge on those who would keep them apart.

Step Brothers

Step Brothers - Steve and Billy’s mom get together, that doesn’t stop their relationship. 

Suggardaddy 

Hardhat Daddy - Steve works at a hardware store and Billy is a rich contractor. 

Sugar Sugar (Series) - Years after Starcourt a rich and successful Billy runs into a struggling Steve. Billy just wants to take care of him.

Trans

All I Want For Christmas - Billy makes a request for Christmas.

Transmasc alpha Billy - story idea for how he ends up in Hawkins and meets Steve. (omegaverse)

Transmasc Billy/ Nonbinary Steve -  Just some hc’s for them.

Tramsmasc Billy rocking Steve’s world - Thinking about trans masc Billy rocking Steve’s world and blowing his back out with his monster strap.

Vampires

The Calling - Steve gets caught by the demodogs in the tunnels, torn to shreds. He’s on the cusp of dying, no way around that but Billy makes sure he wakes up again. 

Vampire/Werewolf

Bite - The fight at the Byers doesn't happen but Steve still finds his back against the dirt.

Sink Your Teeth In - Billy isn’t going to let Steve starve.

Werewolf

Shifting Pleasures - Billy takes things out of hand one night. Steve might have fun but that doesn't mean Billy isn't in trouble for not asking first.

Time Travel

If I Could Turn Back Time - When they find themselves in the past Steve is willing to risk the future they know if it means a chance to save Billy.

Zombie

Reunited - Steve and Billy reuniting during a zombie apocalypse.

#harringrove #jellyghostfic #fanfiction #st fic #billy hargrove x steve harrington

[yikestm17]

I’ve been thinking a lot since tears of the kingdom came out and I just find the cycle endlessly fascinating. I’ve seen a lot of conversation about how link deserves to be wild in totk, he deserves it for all of the children that had to grow up too fast to become the hero of Hyrule. I mean him and Zelda were so young when they fought calamity and they’ve been so young every time they have had to fight. But I think with brining back Ganon it’s much more prescient in my mind that he is part of this as well, he will always have to fight to gain power, whether it’s to serve himself or others, he also is being dragged along in this endless cycle. Now of course I know he’s the ruthless villain of the series, but is he not as much of a pawn as Link and Zelda? Was he not a child at one point? Did each incarnation not have their own hopes feelings and dreams that did not matter in the face of destiny? I feel it is easy to view him as the big bad, he is power incarnate and only brings suffering with him, but he is not the reason they all must come back each time. He is part of the balance. The other two can not exist without him and such Link, Zelda, and Ganon are the only three people in this universe that will ever understand each other her. They are so isolated from a society that gets to die, that gets to never come back.

#totk #tears of the kingdom #loz #link #totk link #totk zelda #totk ganondorf #Zelda #Ganon #gannondorf #alright you caught me I’ve been reading too much link/zelda/Ganon fan fiction #I just have an incredible amount of sadness for Ganon #I think he has such a unique and interesting part to the triforce #and so much can be examined in all of his incarnations #they are so alone #because they always have to come back #they don’t get to rest #and I know Ganon hasn’t been the big bad of every game #but I just feel he has been underutilized #go read interim by starkraving on ao3 #anyways you think Ganon has ever been held

[dawnsedits]

There's an Endless Road to Rediscover

Aquaman 2 spoilers ahead!

Mera and Orm were best friends, once upon a time, but she had to accept long ago that the boy she used to love had become a villain she had to defeat. It was the only way to save the world, and imprisoning him was the only way to protect Atlantis. But when life brings them together one last time, she discovers that her best friend isn't as lost she thought.

(Or: Five times Mera and Orm had history, and one time they had a future.)

Mera & Orm ~ 7.4k ~ AO3

“Clear out, guys. I have private stuff to discuss with my wife.”

Arthur’s voice stirred Mera from her nap. The guards outside of her hospital room obeyed, swimming out to take up new positions at a discreet distance as he drifted inside. He perched on the edge of her bed, gathering one of her hands into both of his, rubbing nervous circles around the back of it with his thumb. “How are you doing?” he asked.

“I’ll be back to full strength in a day or two,” she assured him. She pushed herself more upright, waving off his attempt to stop her. “What are you up to?”

Tense at her side, he watched the last straggling guard reach his distant position. “There’s only one person who might know where to find Manta,” he said lowly, “and I’m about to go break him out.”

Orm.

Even unspoken, his name hung heavy in the water. Atlanna had spearheaded the negotiations, fighting tooth and nail to keep him in an Atlantean prison, but once it became clear that continued arguments would only spark a war – a war that neither the Brine Kingdom nor Xebel would support, leaving Atlantis alone to fight over a single man – even she had swallowed her protests and allowed them to take him. They all had, largely relegating their varying levels of guilt and grief to private conversations and locked boxes in the backs of their minds as the years swept on without him. The Fishermen would never let him go, and they were forbidden from so much as checking in on him. What more could they do, besides carry his memory with them and take care of the kingdom he had left behind?

Risk war once more to break him out, apparently.

The thought had certainly crossed her mind, not to mention Atlanna’s. She had even convinced Mera to go to her father together to request that he send spies to locate where the Fishermen had imprisoned him, a request that he did, much to their surprise, begrudgingly oblige. It had only ever been a fantasy, though. A fantasy that neither queen could make a reality, not with the fate of their kingdom at stake. No matter how much they loved the boy he had been.

“You were friends, weren’t you, when you were kids?” he asked. “You don’t talk about him much, but I think Mom mentioned that at some point.”

Mera sat on the balcony of her bedroom in the Atlantean palace, her legs swinging over the edge. Orm sat cross-legged beside her, snacking on some tuna and watching sharks and other animals swim peacefully by. “That one has a cool scar,” he said, pointing at a hammerhead with a jagged gash across its gills.

“It does.” She squinted at the shark, studying its form. “Do you want to see what I figured out how to do yesterday?”

He looked at her curiously. “Sure.”

Biting her lip, Mera held her hands a few inches apart and concentrated on the water between them, feeling every molecule. Her palms glowed blue as she twisted them together, picturing the hammerhead, and slowly, a miniature version of the shark took shape, outlined in the same glowing blue. Orm stared, his eyes huge with awe. “Whoa.”

Mera grinned. Carefully moving her hands so they were above and below the recreation instead of beside it, she started moving it in slow, small circles, its tail flicking back and forth. Its outline wavered, bubbly and unsteady, but Orm didn’t seem to notice. “Can you make a mosasaur?”

“Maybe,” Mera said. “Or I could do this.”

Closing her fist, she turned the shark into a ball and lobbed it at Orm’s face. “Hey!” he yelped, spluttering. “I’m gonna get you for that.”

“You’ll have to catch me first!”

Pushing off the balcony, she dove towards the seafloor, the levels of the palace flashing past her. Orm leaped after her, abandoning his tuna, and they raced around and through their home, scattering schools of fish and startling the servants. Their laughter rippled through the water, a joyful soundtrack to a carefree moment that she wished would never end.

“Yes,” she admitted, speaking the words aloud for the first time in… she didn’t know how long. “He was my best friend.”

That’s why it broke my heart to save you in your first battle. That’s why I tried until the very last moment to convince him to follow his mother’s teachings. That’s why I’m glad you didn’t kill him to take the throne, and why he still haunts my nightmares when I think about him in that place.

“And you still worked with Vulko to take him down.”

Arthur’s voice held no edge of accusation, no bladed question wondering how she could do such a thing, but her locked box of guilt rattled dangerously regardless. “It was the right thing to do.”

He nodded, drumming his fingers against her hand. “What was he like?” he wondered. “You know, before all of that.”

Mera closed her eyes, picturing the smiling boy who used to play soldiers and pirates with her. “He was curious,” she murmured. “He loved stories and languages, and he had his head buried in a book every chance he had. It didn’t matter if it was fiction or non-fiction.” Despite the pain of remembering, a nostalgic smile crept into her expression. “He was shy, at first, always following Atlanna around like he was her shadow, but once he let you in, he was as eager and playful as Junior. We used to call each other ‘silly.’”

“Silly?” he exclaimed. “You, I get. I mean, you use your fancy superpowers to throw Junior’s pee in my face. But him?”

“It started as a code word,” she explained. “Our way of talking about Atlanna in public after her execution, especially around his father. It evolved into a nickname as time went on, I suppose.” She frowned. “I don’t remember when we stopped using it.”

“Probably when he turned into a dick,” Arthur said. She pursed her lips. “Sorry.” He looked at her, twining their fingers together. “It must’ve been hard for you, having to turn against him.”

She firmly ignored the rattling box. “It was the right thing to do,” she repeated.

He tilted his head sympathetically, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “That doesn’t mean it was easy.”

“There must be another way,” Mera protested, pacing around their safehouse. She hated how dry the air felt, making her skin itch, scraping against her throat and lungs. She hated hiding from her father, from her best friend, from the people she had believed she could trust. She hated this.

“There is not,” Vulko said, impossibly calm amidst her constant movement. “I know how much you care for him, Mera. I care for him as well. But-”

Her heart screamed against the plan the vizier had laid out, screamed against the mental image of her best friend dying at the hands of a stranger. “Then why are we essentially plotting to kill him?”

“The boy we knew may very well have already died with his mother,” Vulko said gently. “He has fallen too far into his father’s influence since her execution – Orvax has made certain of that. The best we can do now is protect our kingdoms, even if that means one day placing Arthur on the throne that Orvax has taught Orm to never surrender. You know this, or else you wouldn’t be here.”

Mera stopped dead in her tracks, her shoulders slumping with defeat. “I know.”

“No,” Mera allowed quietly. “It wasn’t.”

He sighed. “Am I doing the right thing now? He’s in prison for a reason. If the Fishermen find out-”

“Hey.” Mera cut him off, squeezing his hand. “For all of his flaws, there is one thing about Orm that has never changed: He is loyal to Atlantis. He will do what is necessary to protect it, as will you. If breaking him out helps you do that, then it is the right thing to do.”

Arthur met her gaze, unease glittering in his eyes. “What about when I have to send him back afterwards?”

Mera shook her head helplessly. “You don’t have a choice.”

“He’s still my brother, however much I hate him,” he insisted. “He’s still your best friend. He’s still Mom’s kid. She thinks she can hide it, but we all know how much it kills her, leaving him in there. We all know what they’re doing to him. Sure, he deserves prison, but how is that the right thing?”

My best friend died with his mother.

The old mantra swam through her mind, the only thing that had eased her conscience as she plotted his downfall. It grated against her heart just as much now as it had on her first day working with Vulko, but it was as instinctive as breathing. “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, Arthur. His imprisonment, however cruel, protects our people. We all know that as well. Including him.”

The corner of Arthur’s mouth lifted. “You do pay attention when Mom watches Star Trek.”

Mera huffed a tiny laugh, grateful for his ability to find humor in any situation. “Sometimes.”

Relaxing, Arthur leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I love you.”

She leaned into the kiss, welcoming every ounce of comfort he offered. “I love you, too.”

With renewed purpose in his strokes and one last squeeze of her hand, he hopped off her bed, heading off on his mission. She resettled as the guards returned to her side, determined to heal in case he needed her, but peace eluded her without her husband by her side. Grief and rattling boxes stalked her dreams, the sea carrying her tears away as her heart ached for the boy she used to know.

-----

He did need her, of course. Fortunately, her father was visiting her when Topo arrived with his message, and she hadn’t allowed him to leave her behind. Ignoring his protests and her lingering pain, she plunged into the wreckage of Devil’s Deep with Atlanna, racing into the chaos to rescue their husband and son. They split up when they found Arthur alone, Mera waiting outside the volcano with him while Atlanna went after Orm. She returned with him pinned to her side in a white-knuckled grip, and Mera’s breath caught in her throat, the remains of her burns twinging in empathy with his smoldering wounds. Swiping aside the debris still flying around them, tugging Arthur along with her, Mera led the way to the refuge of a nearby island.

Watching Atlanna help Orm out of the water and tend to his wounds, her well-worn mantra failed her.

Hardly conscious at first, he clung to his mother, irresistibly reminiscent of the way he used to cling to her when he was nervous at big events. Even as he regained enough strength to sit up on his own, he still seemed to huddle in her shelter, comfortable only in the safety of her arms, a comfort Atlanna was more than happy to give. She never let go of him except to get more seaweed, as attentive to him as she always had been when they were young, paying little attention to the conversation happening around them until Orm joined it. As much as their lives had changed since her sacrifice, their love for each other evidently hadn’t wavered in the slightest.

If that hadn’t changed, if his loyalty to Atlantis hadn’t changed, was it so impossible to believe that more of her best friend had survived the years than she and Vulko had assumed? Hope dared to glimmer in Mera’s heart. If my best friend died with his mother… can he be resurrected with her, too?

Her father’s words sliced through her thoughts. “Why is he even here?” he demanded. “He should be on his way back to prison.”

A wave crashed against the rocks behind him, punctuating his question, and she flinched from the spray. Why does it even matter? she asked herself. He’s going back regardless of what he does here.

“We should hear what he has to say,” Atlanna said, shifting slightly closer to Orm, her grip on his knee tightening, not quite able to hold the king’s gaze. Orm watched him out of the corner of his eye, successfully cowed by his anger, unable to defend himself.

Mera recognized those old reactions, remembering the tension that had always pulled taut between those two and Orvax, remembering the way they had always bowed to him in the end, no matter how much pride they had to swallow to do it. She hadn’t realized it then, but Atlanna had been walking the finest of lines, balancing shielding Orm from his father’s abuse with playing the subservient wife to protect her secret family, and Orm had always been caught in the middle, his mother’s child and his father’s pawn. They were performing that dance again now, the two of them against the world, just vying for a little bit more time together before more powerful forces tore them apart. Another part of their lives that hadn’t changed at all.

There’s still so much we cannot do.

“I made that mistake once,” her father retorted. “That’s why I know he can’t be trusted!”

He had a point. Orm’s silence spoke to that. Family or not, best friend or not, he had done terrible things to the surface and the undersea kingdoms alike, lying at every twist and turn and leaving a vast trail of destruction in his wake. A moment of vulnerability with his mother didn’t change that. He had upheld his end of the deal, fulfilling the service Arthur had broken him out to provide – it was time for him to return to his penance. The time he had already spent outside his cell had been a massive enough risk as it was, and every extra minute, every extra person who knew only increased the likelihood of the Fishermen discovering he had escaped.

“And he cut off my claw!” the Brine king added, waving the appendage around for emphasis. “This thing took a whole year to grow back.”

But it did grow back.

Maybe it was childish, maybe it was foolish, but didn’t he deserve a second chance? Not everything he had done was irreversible, and they were trying to forge a more forgiving Atlantis. They had all lost too much to archaic ideals and Orvax’s petty whims to follow the old ways, and Orm was trying to help. It was a second chance that could never go anywhere, but what he had done, he had done for Atlantis. He deserved this chance to protect the kingdom they loved from his own mistakes.

If that also gave Atlanna the chance to see her son again, to hold on to him for as long as she could… Mera linked her leg more securely around Arthur’s, her stomach churning at the mere thought of anyone taking Junior away from her, of knowing that he was in pain every day and never being able to ease it. I would do the same in her place. Who am I to take this chance away from them?

Her voice died in her throat, logic caving to emotion. She couldn’t say a word to support her father, and Arthur took it a step further.“Look, he wants to stop Manta, same as we do,” he broke in, looking defiantly at the two senior rulers, as if daring them to argue with the one true king. “And just for the record, the only reason we made it this far is because of him.”

Atlanna smiled beneath watery eyes at her older son, silent gratitude for the defense. Orm stared at his brother, Mera’s own surprise reflected in his eyes. No one could say that her husband was known for his tact, but for him to so boldly stand up against the two kings who had just saved his life, entangling themselves and their soldiers in a situation that could start a war in the process, and in support of the brother he hated, no less? It was a new level of daring, even for him.

No. You don’t hate him anymore, do you?

Arthur leaned forward, giving Orm his full, undivided attention. Taking his cue from his brother but still uncertain, he directed his next words only to their mother. “I saw the Lost Kingdom.”

Atlanna stared incredulously, not quite committing to a definite answer when Arthur asked her if that was possible, carefully phrasing his question to place the uncertainty on his own lack of knowledge rather than any doubt that Orm spoke the truth. Even when her father questioned him, even when Orm recounted a story no one had known for centuries, Arthur’s attention never wavered. He believed his brother. He trusted him. Enough that Orm picked up on it, gaining confidence even as he carried on explaining something impossible beneath her father’s withering stare.

Something has changed between you two.

It had been hard to miss Arthur’s concern when he told Atlanna that Orm was still trapped in the volcano, and Orm’s relief when they stumbled out of the water together, but she had chalked it up to the heat of the moment, to Arthur’s innate instinct to protect and Orm naturally being glad to be alive and reunited with his mother. Yet when Arthur decided it was time to go and stood up, he ignored the lingering wobble in his step to go to his brother, and Orm actually took the hand he offered, rising with his help as much as Atlanna’s. The heat of the moment was long gone, but the care remained.

They’re beginning to love each other, she realized, stunned. Part of her had hoped for this once, when they were young and Orm was still his old self when he was out of his father’s sight, hoped that maybe the stranger Vulko put so much faith in could learn to love him enough to save him. She had caught a glimpse of that long dead dream when Arthur spared him, but this… He’s forgiving him. Truly, genuinely forgiving him. And if Arthur can forgive him…

“Don’t get reattached.”

Her father spoke so only she could hear, joining her as the others walked away. She rose to meet him, matching his volume – though, she suspected, for entirely different reasons. “My husband trusts him,” she said, emboldened by their unity. “That is enough for me.”

“Arthur is blinded by familial connection,” her father said.

“Please,” Mera scoffed. “Two days ago, Arthur hated him more than anyone. If anyone here is blinded by familial connection, it’s you.”

He bristled, anger etched into the lines on his face. “He is not my family.”

“Yes, he is,” Mera hissed. “Don’t deny it. Not to me. I saw the look in your eyes when your spies informed us where he was being held. I remember how you loved the boy who welcomed me into his home when you and Mother left for the front lines. He was meant to be your son-in-law, and there was a time when that meant something to you. It still must, because you wouldn’t still be this furious at him if you didn’t care. You are taking this far more personally than Arthur ever has.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but she swept on. “Orm has suffered for what he did, Father. He has suffered more in the last four years than most people will in a lifetime, and his only reward at the end of this is to return to that death sentence. Yet here he is, helping us however he can. If our kingdoms survive this, if your grandson still has a world to grow up in next week, then it will be in no small part due to his aid. He wants to fix the mistake he made by bringing Manta into our world. Arthur and I are not the blind ones for trying to see that good in him despite all he’s done. You are blind because you refuse to see it at all.”

His stance only hardened, his fists clenching at his side. Mera spun on her heel and marched after her family, holding her head high even as a not-so-tiny voice in the back of her mind wondered if she was placing too much faith in the man who had very nearly succeeded in killing her and Arthur.

It matters to me. It matters to me if my best friend is still beneath the armor.

-----

Her home was burning.

Mera screamed into the night, terror and agony and rage like she had never known tearing out of her throat. If she had been in the water, the ocean would’ve been roiling around her. She staggered away from the flames, away from the porch where she had sung to her son and told him about life in the ocean, closer to the shallows where she had given birth and heard his first cries. Months of memories flashed before her eyes, more precious than she had ever known was possible, and she could feel every single one of them slipping through her fingers like sand leaking out of a shattered hourglass. She was a daughter of Xebel, a queen of Atlantis, one of the most feared warriors in all the kingdoms, and she had let Manta take her son. What had been a fleeting fear on the island had suddenly become her reality.

The man willing to destroy the world just to kill her family had her baby.

“Mera.”

She screwed her eyes shut. The agony made her weak, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her, and the terror made her panic, her empty hands shaking. She couldn’t focus on those emotions. Clenching her fists, sucking in ragged breaths, she imagined tearing every drop of water and blood out of Manta’s body. She imagined making him scream as her son must have screamed when he was ripped away from his grandfather. “I’m going to kill him,” she snarled.

A hand grabbed her arm, not painfully, but far too roughly to be Arthur or Atlanna. “Mera.”

She whipped around, yanking her arm from Orm’s grip. “Where is he?” she demanded. “Where would he take Junior?

“I don’t know,” Orm said, his voice, his entire demeanor steady. Infuriatingly steady. “You need to calm down.”

“Calm down?” she repeated, fury teetering dangerously on hysteria. “That man took my son. Do you know what I’m feeling right now?”

“No.” His voice dipped. “I don’t.”

“Of course not,” Mera snapped. “If you did, you wouldn’t ask-”

“Yes, I would,” Orm interrupted, “because I do not care what you’re feeling. You need to keep your wits about you.” He paused, glancing at the trio on the ground, Atlanna trying to soothe Arthur and care for Tom at the same time. “I don’t know much about family, but I do know that Junior will need you alive at the end of this.”

Her breath hitched, anger cracking in the face of a hope she hardly dared to consider. “You think…”

“I do.”

He almost sounds… gentle again.

Almost. There was a roughness to it, an edge he might not know how to shake after so many years following in his father’s harsh footsteps, but… it almost sounded familiar. It almost sounded like…

Hesitantly, he laid his fingertips on her arm, a featherlight touch that was suddenly her only anchor in the smoky night. “You will get him back, Mera. And when you do… a child needs their mother.”

The words plunged her back through the years. Back to her early days in the Atlantean palace, when Atlanna first took her under her wing and Orm had been her only friend in the kingdom. To when her father broke the news that her mother had been killed in battle and Orm was the first person she swam to for comfort. To when Orvax sacrificed Atlanna and their roles reversed in an instant, with Mera being the only person in the world that he could be open with about grieving for the mother everyone else called a traitor. Back to all the broken years after that, Orvax’s influence poisoning the sweet and silly boy she loved, until Mera had no choice but to turn against the villain he became.

“You cannot be reckless,” Orm said quietly. “You need to calm down.”

Not a day went by when she didn’t miss her mother, when she didn’t lament the lifetime of victories and milestones she had never seen. Atlanna’s execution had cut her like a trident to the heart, too, alongside turning Arthur against Atlantis and destroying Orm in every way imaginable. Arthur and their family would never let Junior face what he and Orm had gone through, but… No. I cannot let him grow up grieving. Not like we did. I need to survive this, too.

Slowly, in stuttering movements, she forced her fists to open. The anger began to dissipate. In its place, the terror and agony flooded in, her knees weakening and her hands shaking again, longing to hold her son. Tears welled in her eyes, stinging far more than the smoke and heat, and she grabbed the closest support she could find.

She grabbed Orm’s hand.

He twitched in her grip, startled. Inwardly, she cringed, realizing what she had just done. But she didn’t pull away. She couldn’t make herself let go. Desperate for any shred of comfort, aching for the days when Orm had always been the one to give it to her, she only clutched his hand harder. He dropped his gaze to the contact, and for a moment she feared he would pull away, that he would let go and abandon her amidst the wreckage.

He didn’t.

He held her gingerly, but he did hold her. He left their hands hanging in the air between them, letting her hold on for as long as she needed. Letting her hold on until her father arrived and she could fall into his arms, their fingers catching as she let go, almost reluctant to make the trade. It was more than she had thought she could ever ask for again. For now… it was enough.

She looked back at him, hovering near his family, consulting with the medics while Arthur and Atlanna held Tom. Maybe my best friend is still here.

-----

Mera gathered Junior into her arms, choking down a sob, his tiny coos the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. I will never let go of you again. She backed up to Arthur and Shin, twisting to shield him from Manta, glaring at the villain as he took his broken helmet off. Arthur touched her back, nudging her towards the door. “Go,” he ordered.

In any other battle, Mera would’ve resisted. She would’ve stayed to fight beside her husband, taking her vengeance, defending the kingdom they had both sworn to protect. Today, though, she didn’t hesitate to obey. Orm had been right – killing him didn’t matter. Only her son did. With Junior against her chest and Shin running ahead of her, she bolted for the exit, listening to the sounds of a scuffle behind her. Running footsteps. Arthur grunting. Bodies hitting the ground.

A trident hurtling through the air.

She whirled around, hair flying. Her eyes widened. It hurtled straight at her, deadly points aimed true at her head, already too close. She couldn’t dodge. She couldn’t summon a wave of water and ice to strike it aside. She could only watch it come, leaning back in a last-ditch effort to keep it from hitting Junior.

A shadow raced into the room, skidding to a halt beside her. The loud clang of metal on metal shuddered through her. The trident stopped dead in its tracks, inches from her face. Her eyes slipped to the side, landing on her savior.

Her gaze landed on Orm.

She had given him a chance. A chance to redeem himself, to fight for what was right, to simply see his mother again and get to know his brother before surrendering himself to his death sentence. She had given him a chance, and now, with his outstretched fist clutching the trident, he was repaying the favor. He was giving her the chance to live, to see her son grow up, to live the happy life he would never know.

He was protecting Junior from the heartbreak that had darkened her childhood and ruined his life.

“Mera,” he rasped. The trident lit up, that ominous green glow spreading out from his fist, reaching towards her and Junior. His entire body beginning to shake, his face twisting in pain and fear, Orm forced out a single word. “Run.”

Please don’t let this be the end.

She wanted to thank him. She wanted to stay with him. She didn’t want to leave him to fight this without her, like she had so many times when she had let the Fishermen take him, when she had schemed with Vulko, when she had gone home to Xebel and her father’s arms and left Orm alone with a tyrant who never loved him. She was an adult now, a queen with all the power they had never had as children, and she still wanted to do a million things they didn’t have time for, and a million more that the baby in her arms made impossible.

All she could do was take the chance and flee, an explosion of magic and her best friend’s screams following her out of the room.

-----

“They’re safe,” Mera whispered to Junior as Storm rocketed out of the churning water, Arthur and Orm on his back. “They’re…” She trailed off, swallowing. “Your dad is safe.”

As is your uncle.

The seahorse bucked as he arced downwards, propelling them towards the iceberg her father had dropped her and Shin on. Arthur didn’t miss a beat, kissing her exuberantly and bending to check on Junior, but Orm landed clumsily, panting, exhausted from whatever had transpired after she fled, from the wounds she knew all too well hadn’t yet fully healed. Aside from returning the trident her father had lost in the battle, the two of them exchanging a significant look as he handed it over, he hung back, separating himself from the reunions.

For now.

She thanked Shin with a kiss on the cheek and smiled at the Brine king and her father’s banter, but her thoughts stayed with Orm. Arthur stepped away from her, joining his brother, and Orm only greeted him with a nod, resigned acceptance in the set of his jaw. Mera busied herself with Junior, dreading the inevitable. Dreading Arthur confirming that there was no more stalling, that her brief reunion with her best friend was over, and she would never see him again.

“As far as I’m concerned, your debt is paid.”

What?

Arthur’s words drew everyone’s attention like a magnet. Mera’s head snapped up. Her father gripped his freshly returned trident tightly, bracing himself. The Brine king stopped complaining about his claw, and Shin shifted, unaware of the stakes but sensing that something significant was happening. Orm’s eyes widened, resignation transforming into disbelief, into something that couldn’t quite be called hope. “Not everybody’s gonna see it that way, though.”

You’re actually-

She cut herself off, waiting with bated breath as Arthur glanced at her father. He looked around, catching her eye. Please, she urged with a pleading gaze. See the good in him. It’s still there. He’s still there.

Looking back at Arthur, he said nothing, simply not objecting to his silent question. It was enough. Shoulders loosening, Arthur continued, “It’s too bad you went and got yourself killed back there.”

We are. I love you, Arthur Curry.

Before anyone could change their minds, Mera jumped in to back him up, to offer Orm a new chance that could go somewhere. “Yes,” she added, nodding at the endless expanse of ocean and shattered ice surrounding them. “With all this ice…” A grin broke across her face – the same grin she had once given him every time she had an idea that would get them into trouble. “It would be impossible to find the body.”

Orm stared back and forth between them, stunned, baffled, struggling to process what they were saying as Arthur told him to lay low and stay close. She couldn’t blame him – even she could hardly believe it. After so many years of trading Orm’s life for Atlantis’s security, Arthur had finally found a solution that protected both. Nothing quite made it sink in until her father nodded at Orm, confirming that he would go along with the lie, a hint of his old fondness softening his features. “Thank you,” he said, his tension easing, “brother.”

Arthur offered his hand, and as Orm took it, Mera looked at her son. You will get to know your uncle after all.

A weight lifted off of Mera’s shoulders. A weight she had grown so used to carrying that the guilt had become part of her, a weight that had crushed a part of her soul that she had kept locked away until now, when she could straighten up and look forward to a bright future with her whole family. Her best friend was back – scarred and changed, yes, but back, rescued from the ashes of his father’s destruction by his mother’s love and his brother’s forgiveness. He had fought for them, comforted her, and saved her and the little boy she loved more than anything. It was all the proof she had ever needed, and he wasn’t going to die alone in prison.

But his return came with a goodbye.

“Wait.”

He paused before he could jump off the iceberg, turning back to her, and now there was true hope in his eyes. She closed the distance between them, snow crunching beneath her feet, and stretched up to kiss his cheek, too. The last time I did that, you were still shorter than me. “Thank you.”

Junior babbled a happy agreement, and for the first time in their lives, Orm smiled at his nephew. “It was the least I could do.” Sobering, he met her gaze. “I’m sorry, Mera. For everything.”

The apology bled with history, with the regret of a lifetime of wrongs and agonizing choices that had driven them apart, but Mera only cared about the genuine step forward he was taking. “I know,” she said, more relieved than she could ever put into words to take the step with him. “Me, too.”

Shoulders slumping slightly, he let himself lean against her, just as he had before he learned how to hide his exhaustion at long formal events. Mera dug her heel into the ice, sharing his weight gladly, embracing the return of the trust she had lost long ago. “You know more about family than you think,” she murmured. “Don’t forget that again, silly.”

Unused for so long, the old nickname simultaneously caught in her throat and rolled off her tongue, strange and familiar all at once. He smiled at it, a tiny, nostalgic upturn of his lips. “I won’t,” he promised.

They lingered for a moment more, savoring the ability to be together again, with no more lies and bitterness dividing them. The locked box she had harbored for so long melted away in the comfort of his presence, a memory to be left in the past, unnecessary in the light of a path forward. “Go on, then,” she said eventually, finding the strength to let him go in the knowledge that they would reunite again soon. “Be safe.”

Devoid of the chill of the false politeness they had used as armor for years, the words warmed the air around them, and she pressed a little harder against his arm when he returned the sentiment just as sincerely. “You, too.”

Pushing off her shoulder, he turned and leaped into the ocean. Mentally, Mera started running through cover stories, mapping out when they could begin pushing the Fishermen for an updated treaty. Arthur stepped up to her side, wrapping his arm around her, and together they watched his brother disappear into the waves, swimming towards his freedom. Swimming, she assumed, to once again find safety in their mother’s arms.

This time, no one will tear us apart, she vowed. I won’t let them.

-----

Mera landed lightly on the end of the dock, spring sunshine warm on her skin. Tucking the tablet she had brought under her arm, she strode towards the lighthouse, searching for one landbound family member in particular. Following the sound of his voice, she found him sitting in his chair on the porch with Junior, uncle and nephew equally content as he read Pinocchio with more awkward versions of the ridiculous voices Arthur used, Nemo curled up at his feet. Mera couldn’t help but pause, enjoying the precious sight that had become commonplace, yet never seemed to lose its novelty.

Nemo interrupted the moment, pricking his ears and trotting over to her with a happy bark. Orm broke off when he caught her looking. “Look who’s here, Junior,” he said, closing the book while Mera scratched Nemo’s back.

Junior’s disappointment vanished the second he saw her. “Mama!” he exclaimed, reaching for her eagerly.

Beaming, Mera joined them in the shade, trading the tablet for her son. “Hello, sweetheart,” she greeted, kissing his forehead. Even all these months after his kidnapping, holding him felt like a miracle, his weight a comfort in her arms. “Were you having fun with Uncle Orm?”

He answered with an enthusiastic string of noises that she took as a yes. “That’s g- Wait.” Amongst the adorable nonsense, she swore she caught a word. “Did he say Ormy?”

“Unfortunately,” Orm muttered. Nemo pressed against his legs, wagging his tail. “I’m going to kill Arthur.”

The front door opened as she laughed. “Mera!” Tom said, sweeping her into a hug. “We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

“We finished early. A first in diplomatic negotiations with the Fishermen,” she said wryly. Tom chuckled. Orm stiffened, glancing from her to the tablet. “We didn’t want to all rush off as if we had somewhere to be, so Arthur and Atlanna stayed behind for the celebrations. I got to come share the news.”

“Ah,” Tom said. “In that case, why don’t we give the two of you some privacy?”

Kissing him again, promising to see him soon, Mera passed Junior to his grandfather. As they stepped inside, Nemo following on Tom’s heels, she took a seat on the end of the couch beside Orm. “Atlanna sends her love.”

“She always does,” he said fondly, though his attention was clearly elsewhere. He handed the tablet back. “An early ending seems like a good sign.”

“It is,” she said. Fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve, he leaned forward, watching her power up the tablet and open the notes she had taken. Tilting it so he could see, she scrolled to the section that concerned him. “As soon as the new treaty goes into effect, peace between Atlantis and the Fishermen Kingdom no longer hinges upon your imprisonment.”

She let him take the tablet, holding it delicately, as if the slightest wrong move would erase the words on the screen, destroying everything they promised. He read them again and again, seconds stretching into minutes as he took it in. Mera waited patiently – they had time. When he finally spoke again, his voice cracked with emotion, with joy and anxiety and everything in between. “I can go home.”

“Not yet,” Mera cautioned. “They were furious that Arthur broke you out to participate in the battle, and it took a great deal of care to remove this without raising further suspicion, since we brought no proof of your death. We still have to be careful that your return doesn’t make it appear as if we’ve been harboring you since the battle.” Unwilling to leave it on a pessimistic note, she finished, “It won’t be long, though, with this signed.”

Orm set the tablet down, his eyes drifting to the ocean, aching for the tantalizing freedom still just out of reach. Mera laid her hand over his. “Atlantis isn’t your only home anymore,” she reminded him.

He took her hand, holding tight. “I know,” he murmured. “I still miss it.”

“It hasn’t been the same without you,” she said, meaning every word. She had been looking at all of their old haunts and hiding spots with new eyes lately, looking forward to when he could fill the empty spaces with her again, to when he could help her tell their stories to their family and show Junior all the best parts of growing up in the palace. “I can’t wait to see the look on the Fishermen queen’s face when you come back.”

His laugh didn���t reach his eyes. “I understand why she did it. I certainly sent people there for less.”

“We all understand why she did it,” Mera said, running her thumb over his knuckles. “That doesn’t mean you deserved it.”

“I did,” he whispered, leaving his mouth open as if he meant to continue, but no words came out.

“No, you didn’t,” she said firmly in his silence. “And even if you had, you’ve more than atoned for your mistakes since then. You deserve to go home.”

He drew in his legs, massaging the knee that had never quite healed after his years of torture. She didn’t press him further, letting her touch speak for itself. Finally, he asked, “What if the people don’t accept my return?”

“I don’t care.” She cupped his cheek, guiding his gaze to hers. “You are family, and you belong with us, whether we’re here or in Atlantis. We will bring you home, and if anyone has a problem with that, we will fight for you. All right? We haven’t come this far to give up now. We love you, Orm. I love you. Your homecoming may not be an easy path, but it is a path I will make sure you can walk.”

He weighed the speech, searching for the “but,” for yet another one of the caveats that had shadowed his entire life. “All right,” he said at long last, tilting into her touch without protest, accepting the reassurance. “Thank you.”

“It’s what best friends do,” she said. It’s what I waited too many years to do. Nudging his good knee with her own to take any bite out of her words, she added playfully, “Don’t make me regret it.”

He gave her a small smile. “I don’t know. If Arthur makes me sit in on any debates between your father and the Brine king…”

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said. “There’s always a good prank to play on him when he inevitably falls asleep. It’s far more entertaining than it used to be. Besides,” she continued mischievously, “I suspect he’ll hardly have a chance to rope you into anything before you come back up here to see Stephen the first chance you get.”

He shook her off, tugging his hand away, clearing his throat as his cheeks reddened. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Of course you don’t,” she teased. “That’s why you’re looking at anything but me. Tell me, how many times has he texted you today?”

The door swung open again, Tom reemerging holding a case of beer as well as Junior. “So,” he said, “are we drowning our sorrows or celebrating?”

Visibly grateful for the interruption, Orm took the beer from him, focusing far too intently on freeing three bottles. “Celebrating.”

Tom grinned softly, giving Junior to Mera and taking the bottles that Orm handed him, giving her the other once she had Junior settled. “That’s great news, son.” Popping the cap off and sitting on Mera’s other side, he held it out. “To the future.”

Relaxing in a way he never had around his first father, Orm clinked their bottles together. Mera added hers to her in-laws’ toast, the sound pleasant and promising above the gentle crashing of the waves against the shore. As much as she had appreciated keeping secrets for Orm instead of from him, protecting him instead of betraying him, she was more than ready for this era of their lives to end once and for all. Soon, her months of leading the negotiations would come to fruition, and nothing would stand between him and being a fully-fledged member of the family both above and below the surface. They would both, at long last, have everything they had ever dreamed of and more – perhaps not in ways they had ever envisioned, but they would have it together.

In the end, that was all that mattered.

“To the future,” they echoed.

#mera #orm marius #mera fanfic #orm marius fanfic #aquaman #dceu #my fanfic. #aquaman 2 spoilers

[yunacoeur]

the worlds that collide

our last dance: chapter i

chapter synopsis: you, as the oldest royal child of your family, are up to take the throne. in your search for a partner to be consort, the royal family is throwing a party in your name for you to meet potential suitors.

this story begins with your first dance, and will end with our last.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: thank you guys so much for your patience with me while i’ve been preparing this series! i hope this chapter gets you excited for what’s to come!

taglist: @haesunflower @shiningstar-byulxx @kpoprhia @en-ct @dimplewonie @cherriegyu @harus-simp @taerrrrrae @zhanghaos-hairclips @zerobaseonefics @big-uwu-stan @seok02 @kpop17 please fill out this form if you want to be added to the taglist!

the invitation is small, just a white card with the insignia of the king on the back and a short message on the front. hundreds of these invitations have been sent out across all kingdoms in the land. the message reads:

“the oldest child of the great and honorable king and queen of zerose is to be wed soon. we ask that available suitors from all kingdoms come to a party being held in our dear royal’s honor. any and all questions may go to the royal staff.”

it’s a party held in your honor so you may find a husband. isn’t that wonderful? the only issue is that you don’t know most of them and it will be hard to decide on a husband. of course you don’t have to make the decision immediately, as this party is only being thrown as an introduction. still, it feels like you are on a time limit. 

the party is in just a few hours, but the tension in your heart is only getting stronger by the second, but you must find a partner soon if only to unify the kingdoms in response to political conflict. the people need something good to focus on. a royal wedding would be enough. 

your parents are good rulers, they are kind and giving, and it’s a difficult position that you will have to take up, but it must be done. they are tired of ruling, and likely just want to relax and let you take the wheel. 

at the current moment, a royal staff member is helping you choose the attire you will wear during the event, but it is not enough to distract you from the looming task.

“i suppose i don’t know if i have it in me to make such a choice. what if ‘the one’ isn’t in that room tonight?” you tell her, and she continues working as she responds to you.

“well, your highness, i believe you will find who you are looking for. they will also not rank as highly as you in our kingdom, so if they turn out to be a poor ruler, you can easily override them,” she says, draping the cloth against your skin, “would you prefer a more saturated blue or a more greyish-blue?”

“whatever suits me the most. i trust your opinion,” you say. she’s right of course. there’s no reason why you should be worried on the political front. you will always outrank them, in your kingdom at least. you just worry that they may not be the one your heart truly desires. what if you pick the wrong one and never get the chance to be with one you love?

“thank you, your highness,” she says, brining you back to reality,  “i think a less saturated color would suit you more. a bright blue may overpower your natural beauty.”

“okay then,” you hear the door open, turning your head over to see the person behind it. 

it’s a maid you know well. she seems to be hurried, like the information she’s delivering is urgent. it worries you because she’s not usually like this.

“your highness,” the maid says, bowing, “your father requested that one of tonight’s guests come early so you may meet him before. he is waiting for you in the ballroom.”

“but isn’t that room still being set up?” you ask curiously, looking over at the staff preparing your clothes. she shrugs. the ballroom has been under preparation all week, but even still it feels like it is just barely coming together. 

the maid nods, “yes, your majesty. this guest insisted on helping set up.”

you look back to the staff, who has picked out the final few options for your outfit, pointing to the one you like the most, “get that one ready for me, please. i’ll be back soon for it.”

“of course, your majesty.”

walking through the halls towards the ballroom, gazing out the large windows at the town below, you spend the whole time wondering why your father was insistent on you meeting this guest first. what is the necessity? there will be plenty of time to meet all the suitors tonight, why do any of them deserve a head-start? 

and then you see him. you understand. 

he’s more than beautiful. ethereal would probably be the best word. he’s laughing with one of the staff as they set up (or attempt to) a banner on the wall. he’s polite and respectful with even just the commoners lingering in the area, treating them so perfectly. 

his mother must be so proud to have a son so perfect.

he looks over after hearing the door shut to see you, and he recognizes you immediately just like you did with him. 

“your highness!” he calls out, as he walks over to you and bows slightly, “thank you for coming to meet me before the party. my name is sung hanbin, it is such a pleasure to meet you in person… may i?” he asks as he reaches for your hand. you nod and he lifts it up to press a chaste kiss to the side opposite your palm. 

he explains to you his story, where he’s from. he’s a prince from another kingdom, younger than the one that should be in line to be king. you wonder if his being sent here is an offering for peace, one of unity, as there has been political tension between kingdoms in the past decades.

“your majesty, may i make a request?” he asks, and you tilt your head in slight confusion.

“you may. what is it?”

he seems bashful for just a second, “i wish to be your first dance of the night when the party starts,” he smiles, the dimples on his cheeks showing. it makes him look cute instead of drop dead gorgeous for just a moment, “can i reserve that spot?”

you laugh, smiling back at him, “i’m sure that can be arranged.”

“okay then. i look forward to it,” he says, but then someone asks for his help in setting up one of the tables, and he turns back to you, still smiling brightly, “excuse me, your majesty, i have to go back. i’ll see you tonight!” 

and he’s off to continue helping set up and probably save puppies and solve world hunger while he's at it. you return to what you were doing until the time comes that you’ll come back to the ballroom.

and by what you were doing, you mean you return to the study you use as your safe haven when you’re stressed, the weight of the impending decision already so heavy. 

you look up at your desk to see an old photo of you. you were so young and smiled so bright. what you’d give to go back to this moment and relive it. not a care in the world. 

part of you hopes to see the boy you were with in the photo tonight. 

after a while, you go back to your fitting room to dawn the outfit you picked out earlier. the blue tones are subtle but still there, complemented by bits of silver and black. the outfit is perfect for such an occasion. 

as the staff helps you into the outfit, including any accompanying jewelry, you are walked back to the ballroom as the party is about to begin. so many people already fill the halls and the room itself doesn’t seem much quieter. it is bursting with people, and loud, bustling energy. 

the first person who seems to be a suitor approaches you the moment you aren’t being smothered by people. he’s tall and well-proportioned, he’s everything in the looks department you could want out of someone. 

and then he smiles at you, tripping as he walks over. you realize this man is more clumsy than charming, or maybe he’s just a different kind of charming.

“hi,” he says. nothing else to accompany. when you playfully raise an eyebrow, he remembers, “oh! i’m so sorry, your highness. i am prince kim gyuvin. it’s an honor to be in your presence.” 

“i’m sure it is, kim gyuvin,” you smile back at him. he already feels at ease even though he can tell you’re teasing him. he doesn’t mind, “talk with me for a few moments. let’s get to know each other.” 

“ah, yes of course, your highness,” he says as you pull him off to the side to chat, “what do you want to know about me?” 

and it hits you that you don’t really have a plan for tonight,“ i don’t know what to ask, you’re the first one i’m meeting like this so i don’t really know what we’re supposed to do… what’s your favorite color?” you ask.

“blue. no- green. actually, i don’t really know-” he stumbles, and you just nod along like you too have to put this much thought into your favorite color. he flips it on you so he doesn’t have to think, “what’s yours?”

“mine is orange... uhm, if given the chance, do you want to rule?” 

“not really. i’m too nervous to mess it up,” he answers, honest, always thinking too fast and too much, “i would like to be by your side when you rule your kingdom.” 

“ah, good save,” you say. you’d laugh at his bluntness if it wasn’t so cute.

“can i ask you something, your highness?” he asks, and you nod, “if you could… like if you didn’t have a bunch of responsibility on your shoulders to rule the kingdom and everything… would you want to run away?” 

“run away?”

“yeah! like elope with someone and get out of town and go somewhere no one knows you exist and live a simple life,” he smiles, this dreamy look in his eyes, “maybe even fall in love.”

“i can definitely tell that’s your dream,” you giggle, “but yeah, that does sound nice.” 

he gets silent for just a second, but then his eyes light up, “maybe we could run away together?” 

you smile sadly, it’s a sweet dream, but it can't be your reality, “don’t get too ahead of yourself now, gyuvin. i still have a country to take care of, and you might too if something happens to the first-in-line.” 

“then, let’s make a dream out of the lives we have,” he says, coming closer to hold your hand. 

“you are so cheesy! oh my lord,” you shake your head in disbelief, but his hand in yours is so comforting and he’s so endearing, “okay fine. i’ll consider it.”

“good! and while you do that, i actually have something for you!” he says, reaching into his fancy suit jacket to pull it out. 

“a gift?” you guess, unassuming. all suitors probably were expected to get you gifts.

but then he pulls out a dainty white poppy. the center is a soft yellow with a hint of red in the middle. it’s a beautiful flower. it reminds you of the soft dreams he tells you of, the simple wishes for freedom and peace and comfort from all the eyes on you. 

you wonder if that’s your dream too, and he read you just like a book.

gyuvin has nothing more than his dashing smile and his lovely dreams, wishing for so much that he’ll never have. as you wish him well, telling him you’ll choose within the coming days who you will marry, you wonder, “tell me, why should i marry you?” 

“oh, uhm- i…” he trails off, giving himself time to think, before settling on an answer he feels confident in.

he says, “because i would follow you anywhere.” 

and, at least in that moment, looking into his honest eyes, you believe him.

you finish you up conversation with him as someone who recognizes him starts talking to him, and you assume they’re trying to whisk him away from you. you allow it for now. he still smiles brightly and waves at you goodbye.

as gyuvin is stolen from you view, you find someone new in front of you. he’s a little shorter than gyuvin, but he makes up for it with his bright smile and this cute charm he seems to exude.

this is no stranger at all. even if you didn’t know him, you did deep down.

“your highness, hello, it is a pleasure to make the acquaintance,” he bows, “i am the son of a duke in our kingdom. i have been sent here to be a possible suitor for you. my name is matthew.” 

it’s very clear just by looking at him that he’s from your kingdom. you’ve never met, but you could swear you’ve seen his face before. he seems like he would be a safe pick for a husband. he’s already from your kingdom and also nobility, but just far enough out to where it isn’t weird. it wouldn’t require alliance brokering or having to rule over new territory and people who didn’t even know you. that would be the nice part.

in short: he’s a safe pick. 

“hello, matthew, it is a pleasure to have you here tonight,” you smile at him as he reaches for your hand to place a kiss. a common theme of the night you assume, “what is your father up to these days?” 

“nothing interesting to either of us,” he laughs to himself, “just royal duties. i’m surprised he sent me as his contribution. i totally thought he’d want my sister here.”

“ah, well i’m glad you are here. you are quite pleasant to be around, i can already tell,” you say. he takes it as the biggest compliment he’s ever gotten in his life, or at least that’s what it looks like. 

“thank you, your highness,” he says after a moment of collecting himself, “do you wish to dance?” 

you almost say yes, but you remember the promise you made to hanbin. did you already think of him as the one? why would you put yourself through the rest of this night if hanbin already ticked all the boxes? “not at the moment, but come find me again later and i’ll say yes, okay?” 

“hmm, alright. i suppose that’s okay-” 

he was talking but was cut off when someone’s elbow hit you from behind. the collision causes you to fall forward towards matthew, and he catches you before you take both you and him down. he holds you up by your waist as your hands reach to grasp onto his shoulders. you look up at him with panic in your eyes, and he has the same frightened look.

and it is only worsened by the fact that everyone saw it.

while everyone in that room was probably death glaring at the poor person who knocked you over, matthew just whispers, “i thought you didn’t want to dance?” his response is cheeky, finally smiling at you once he knows you’re alright. there’s a secret coolness to him that you didn’t know he had in him. 

so this is why you waited it out.

he must be incredibly strong to still be holding you like he is after the fall, but the moment can’t last forever, so he pulls you up, “unrelated, but i have something for you," he says.

“is it a flower?” you ask with a daring smile, and he nods. 

“your father included an amendment to the invitation for all the suitors. we were to bring you a flower. you’ll probably get more throughout the night, but hopefully, mine sticks out to you the most, your highness,” he hands it to you gently.

the flower is white, just like gyuvin’s, but it is a completely different style. one native to your kingdom.

“a heather flower, consider it a promise. even if you don’t pick me, i’ll have the best interests at heart for you,” he says, handing it off to you like an oath, “you don’t have to choose now, but no matter who it is you pick, i will be here to make sure they are up to your standards.”

“you don’t have to do that, matthew,” you say, but he shakes his head.

“my father has told me all my life that the royal crown is my only priority. i will make sure that whoever gets to call themself your consort will be fit for the role.” 

you laugh at his intensity. he’s already so lost in his mind about it. you suppose that devotion to the crown is innately taught to everyone. it’s just weird to hear it out loud, “you say that like i already picked someone else. what if i do choose you?” 

“i will absolutely hold myself to the same standard,” he says, like it’s obvious. commonplace. you laugh at how serious he is.

the dancing area may not be the best place to have a conversation, seeing as you’ve already been bumped into a couple times since the first big one. 

“your highness,” he says, drawing your attention back to him, “it was nice meeting you. i’ll come back again for that dance you promised me.” 

“i look forward to it,” you smile at him as he moves to walk away. 

once matthew has left, there's really no one there to protect you from falling when people bump into you. you find yourself needing a moment to breathe, finding comfort in sipping one of the drinks being offered by the staff walking around. you decide to hide in the corner of the room, for lack of a better plan. the center is where all the dancing is happening, but it’s easier to hear yourself think in these more secluded spots. 

although, just when you finally have a second to breathe and think through all that’s happened so far, something finds it’s way into your hair, and you freeze as you look up at the culprit. it feels like a flower.

“i’m sorry, your highness,” he says. he’s so beautiful (god, does every suitor in the damn land have to be so gorgeous?) that you could almost forgive him, “i know i should have asked, but that moment was too beautiful to pass up.”

“i don’t even know your name, and you’re already having to apologize? not a strong start, stranger,” you say, but you’re smiling. he knows you’re not really mad, and so do you. 

you could have been mad, you could have kicked him out and banished him from the castle for putting a flower in your hair without permission. 

but he’s pretty, so you’ll let it slide.

“stranger? i don’t want that as a nickname,” he frowns, “my name is zhang hao. please call me anything other than stranger.”

“an order? wow, how modern of you to order around royalty in their own castle,” you laugh at him, but it’s all in good fun, and you change the topic so he doesn’t get too embarrassed, “it’s quiet over here,” you murmur.

he silently thanks you for switching topics, “yes, indeed. i am not one for lots of noise,” he says, “did you need a break from the chaos too, your highness?”

“i suppose. everyone is so nice, but i am just..” you look down at the two flowers you hold in your hands. one poppy and one heather, “overwhelmed. the choice is a difficult one to make over just a conversation. what if none of it is even real?”

“real? why wouldn’t it be real?” he asks.

“there’s so much political advantage that comes with marrying me, so how would i be able to tell the difference?” you ask in return, “not to mention i’m not even sure i can judge someone’s character in just a few minutes of conversation,” he takes a second to think. maybe there isn’t even a good answer he could give. 

you know you have more time. you know this party isn’t everything and you could abandon it all and be fine. god forbid you wanted to meet the one. maybe you even wanted to fall in love, is that so much to ask for?

“well, i can’t speak for anyone else, and there is no way for me to prove it to you, but…” he looks over at you, at the darling flower he had placed in your hair. he wonders how anyone could think to marry you just for prestige or power, “i am real.”

“you are?”

“i am,” he murmurs, “i’m not a lot of things, but i am real.”

you sigh, “i shouldn’t have put this decision on myself. i should have just let my father pick and gone with it,” you rub your temple with your free hand, your head suddenly aching dully, "why did i do this to myself?"

“you wanted to choose because somewhere deep down in there,” he says, pointing to your heart. it's flustering just how close he's getting, “you trust yourself and your judgment.” 

you sit there for just a moment to take in his words. you initially thought he was incredibly wrong, but the more you think about it, the less wrong he becomes.

“and why should i trust you?”

he seems taken about, but answers anyway,“i am… not extremely good at the press and public image stuff, but i am quiet. and calm. i cannot be exciting, but i can be soothing,” he smiles so softly, “i can help you forget it all for just a moment.”

he’s convincing, you’ll give him that. 

and you can tell he’s genuine. there was no bone in his body capable of lying, “i can care for you. i will be real for you. there will be no act, no fake love to attempt to satisfy some image. you can take care of your kingdom, and i will take care of you.”

“that’s how you’ll love me?” 

“that is how i will love you,” he repeats, tucking your fallen hair behind your ear.

“what flower did you put in my hair?”

he looks at it one more time, “a bluebell. it’s native to the land of my kingdom.”

“ah, i see,” you say, seeing the blue petal out of the corner of your eye, “thank you.” he pulls it out of your hair to hand it to you, making it the third flower you’re holding as of now.

“you should go now, your highness. there’s lots more for you to do and people for you to meet.”

and you want to, but it is still so noisy out there, and you feel the nerves in your stomach again as you look back out to the crowd. you ask him, “what if i need a break again from the noise?”

he smiles at you, his voice as soft as ever, “come find me, of course.”

so you leave him there, his eyes following you as you step back out onto the floor, feeling the energy come back to you after you have rested. 

you give zhang hao one last look before you look away from him for a while. he seems like the type to never want your eyes off of him.

he’s looking at you too. suddenly it all feels too real.

he smiles at you, waving you off, like a mother bird telling its baby bird to be free, only this time there’s still a nest to return to when you are tired.

you walk back out onto the floor, hoping someone will come to take your hand and ask you for a dance. it doesn’t take long for someone to come hoping to do just that. 

“don’t tell me someone beat me to it, your highness,” they say. as you look up, you see familiar eyes and dimples, with a hand outstretched for you to grab.

“hanbin,” you smile at him, taking his hand as he leads you to the area people are dancing in. it is significantly louder, but the energy feels good, the music flowing through your veins, “of course not. i told you it was yours.”

“i’m sorry, but i have another favor to ask you,” he says, grabbing your right hand with his left and holding your waist with his right as you sway to the music, not quite dancing yet. just swaying with him.

“so greedy,” you say with a giggle, “what can i do for you?”

“i know i have already asked for so much by taking this first dance,” he says, eyes almost looking into your soul, “but i want your last dance as well.”

it stuns you for just a moment. that was a taller order than your first dance, “i’m sorry, do you mean of the night? like tonight? or…” you trail off, wondering if there was a way to eloquently word ‘the last dance i do ever in my life’. you never finish the thought.

he doesn’t respond to that thought either, just giving you a smile that almost seems cheeky, “let’s dance.”

and suddenly you are reminded of the fact you are not very blessed in the coordination department, “hanbin- i am so sorry to disappoint you because i’m sure you were thinking this would be a magical moment or something, i forgot to say i am a terrible dancer. maybe we should-”

“shh, don’t worry about anything. i’ll lead, just follow what i do,” he tells you.

the dance is not extremely technical, but even still it is so obvious to both you, him, and everyone watching how skilled of a dancer he is. is this all he’s been doing his entire life?

it’s just a simple, repetitive step, and at one point he twirls you around and pulls you just a little bit closer. even still, you still find yourself being clumsy and tense, even when he whispers to just relax.

it’s over too fast, but he assures you, “i wish we could keep going, too, but you have other people to dance with. i can’t be that demanding. i’ll be back for your last.”

you laugh because he’s kind of right to say he’s been demanding. it’s not like you mind, “i’ll wait for you, hanbin.”

he smiles, so sweetly, “as will i, your majesty.”

and as he walks away, leaving you to watch him smile at someone else and offer to dance with them, you notice the unconventional bouquet you’ve been holding: a poppy for the boy with the wild dreams, a heather for the guy who saved you from falling (even though you might have fallen in a different way), and a bluebell from the one who gave you a brief moment of peace.

yet, from looking at it, it has one more flower in it than you remember it having. 

a yellow tulip. 

#our last dance #zb1 #kim jiwoong #zhang hao #sung hanbin #seok matthew #kim taerae #ricky #kim gyuvin #park gunwook #han yujin #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #boys planet drabbles #boys planet fanfic #boys planet scenarios #boys planet imagines #boys planet #zerobaseone #zb1 reactions #zb1 fluff #zb1 drabbles #zb1 ricky #boys planet fics #boys planet reactions #zb1 reaction

[ladyabaniko]

My claw got cut off.

#brine king #aquaman #aquaman the lost kingdom

[quaranmine]

Gadus morhua

Atlantic cod, scientific name Gadus morhua, is benthopelagic fish in the family Gadidae. A series of three scenes from the Cod Empire, focused on the hydrological, ecological, toxicological, environmental, and engineering problems Jimmy tackles as the Codfather.

In which I use my college education to do worldbuilding for MC roleplay, and have entirely too much fun with it. Jimmy-centric, but other characters appear: Joel, Lizzie, fWhip, and Scott. No content warnings. Set in at a vague point in Empires S1!

Words: 6142

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1.

It was a casual sort of meeting day with Joel down by the docks of the Cod Empire. Jimmy had invited him over to do some fishing and some talking, and to well–just hang out. They were best allies, after all. They’d been out here for an hour or so already, but being a ruler was unfortunately a ‘round the clock sort of job, and even leisure time with other emperors was often punctuated by work. 

“So what did you invite me here for?” Joel asked. He was laying on his back on the dock with the sun shining on him and a hat over his face, while Jimmy slowly reeled in the line he’d thrown. 

“I wanted to talk about water,” Jimmy said. 

“Fish people,” Joel muttered. “It’s all you do.” 

“Hey!” Jimmy said, lightly smacking Joel’s shoulder. “Water happens to be the most important part of life. You wouldn’t exist without it!”

“Fine, fine,” Joel said, sitting up and pulling the hat off his face and on top of his head instead. “What about water did you want to discuss?”

“I wanted to talk about your desalination plants,” Jimmy said. “I was thinking about getting a few for my empire.” The corner of his mouth twitched up a bit as he said it, because he knew that asking this was tantamount to asking for a spiel on how much Joel loved his wife. It had been one of their most important trade agreements, and it’d apparently left quite the impression on Joel because he never stopped going to see the Ocean Queen after that. 

“Ah, those,” Joel said, and clapped his hands. “Built through an agreement with the love of my life. You, know, that was our first really important trade agreement–”

Jimmy bit back a laugh. Yes, he’d known. 

Joel continued. “Mezalea is a rich land blessed in many things. What it’s not blessed with is water. It’s dry and hot.”

“And yet you export moss,” Jimmy said. “Isn’t that known for growing in wet places–”

It was Joel’s turn to smack Jimmy. “Yes. Don’t talk about that.”

Jimmy raised his hands placatingly. “Fine, fine, just tell me about the desalination plants.”

“We have aquifers and reservoirs in Mezalea for water, but I know that in the future they might be drained. It’s not good for the growth of the kingdom–if we try to raise exports of moss, we’ll need more water, and as the economy grows we’ll need more people and clones who will need more water, and then we’ll start drawing more water than can be recharged. So we needed to find more options, and the ocean was right there.”

“So you went to talk to Lizzie.”

Joel twirled the wedding band around his finger absentmindedly. “Yeah, I went to talk to Lizzie. Didn’t know if she’d approve but she seemed more than happy to provide the technology when I told her how she could benefit as well. Desalination’s tricky. It’s not always efficient.” Joel squinted off into the ocean in the distance. “And I didn’t just need her help, I also needed her permission. Can’t be pumping ocean water without it. It can harm sea creatures, you know, but Lizzie’s able to keep ‘em away from that area.”

“What do you do with the leftover salt?” Jimmy asked, tossing his fishing line out again. Maybe he’d catch some salmon today, but so far he’d just got a pufferfish and an old useless book. It wasn’t really about the catches, though. It was about sitting here and enjoying himself. 

“Give the brine back to Lizze as part of the agreement,” Joel said. “She exports it. Scott buys a lot. It’s good for deicing apparently, but it never snows in Mezalea. Or here, for that matter.”

“And it works?”

Joel beamed proudly. “Come on Jimmy, you’ve been to my empire before. Would it look so good if it didn’t work?”

“I dunno mate, everything’s still a bit to dry for my liking over there.”

“Ugh,” Joel said, waving him off. “I don’t know why I bother with you, you’ve got no taste out here in the swamp. Just mosquitoes.”

“If you put on the slime, the mosquitoes wouldn’t bother you–”

Joel put a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder and said solemnly: “Jimmy, I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing slime. I would rather be carried off by the mosquitos first.”

Jimmy just laughed loudly at that. It wasn’t his fault that he told everyone how to live in the swamp and they refused. He thought they were all a bit too pretentious. After all, they’re surrounded by water here–you could wash the slime off any time you’d like. 

“Why do you want desalination facilities, Jimmy?” Joel asked. “You’ve got so much water here. I mean, it’s literally a swamp.”

“It’s brackish.”

“What?”

“Salty?” Jimmy said, and then pointed to the wide expanse of ocean on the horizon. “We live on the coast, and the river comes out here. This is an estuary. That means that the saltwater and freshwater mix, making the water brackish.”

“And can’t you just . . .” Joel trailed off, and gestured vaguely at his throat. Gills. “Like Lizzie does?”

Jimmy subconsciously brought his hand up and brushed the edge of his gills. “Well, I can,” he said. “Me and Lizzie both can. Doesn’t matter if it’s air or freshwater or saltwater. We were born in the ocean, after all. But that doesn’t mean all my people can. Most of them still need freshwater.”

“What about your wells though? Surely you get enough rain to keep them full?”

Mezalea was arid, and rain was infrequent enough that depleting the aquifer was always a worry. The water underground was thousands, if not millions of years old, and it was no guarantee that it could be recharged quickly enough through rain to keep up with the demand of a growing empire. 

The Cod Empire was wet. The water table was at ground level or above ground in most places, leading to soft muddy ground, marshy pools, and little ponds. It rained frequently, and the river came in from the south. But the river mixed with the ocean throughout the empire, and the water around them was not fresh as a result. 

Jimmy nodded. “We do. But it’s just . . .” He fixed Joel with a look. “Joel, you’re my best ally. This is important alliance matters. This is being told to you in confidence.”

Joel stared back at him. “Okay.”

Jimmy glanced over his shoulder as he talked. The tips of his walls were just visible over the trees. “The wells are a weak point for us,” he started. “They’re too far on the edge. They’re vulnerable to attack from my enemies, and that would be dangerous for my people to be left without freshwater.”

He’d always been on shaky relations with Sausage. He didn’t think the man would attack his water supply, but he wasn’t sure with all the corruption on the server. Jimmy also knew he wasn’t always on the best of terms with a lot of people–he was often a bit too bold or brash or impulsive, which didn’t suit him as an emperor and had caught him in hot water more than once. 

He also knew he wasn’t the strongest empire on the server. He knew what other people said about him, and he was too proud to admit to any weakness. But he was still pragmatic enough to see the truth: he didn’t even have enough resources to guard the wells all the time, anyway. They’d always be a risk. 

Joel scowled. “So why don’t you just move them closer to the middle of your empire? You’ve got water running out your ears, can’t you just drill further until you reach freshwater?”

Jimmy shook his head. “Can’t. If we move them closer, we’ll just start sucking seawater in and ruin them. We’ve got freshwater, but just like on the surface, it mixes with saltwater underground too at a certain point. They also have to be far enough away from the coast that they can keep up with the demand of the empire, because we can only take up so much water at a time safely.”

“Oh.” Joel blinked. “So, desalination.”

Jimmy smiled. “It’s just for backup.”

Joel clapped a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. “Well, Codboy, I won’t go tellin’ your empire’s weakness to anyone. If you ever need help, Mezalea’s on your side.” He leaned over. “I don’t understand, though. Why’d you invite me here to ask me this, and not Lizzie? She’s the one you’d have to actually talk to about getting it built and she’s the one who knows the ocean better than any of us.”

“Oh,” Jimmy said, amused. “That’s because it’s not nearly as fun to do this with Lizzie. She just swims too well.”

“What-”

And with a great shove, Jimmy pushed Joel off the dock. He hit the water with a splash, leaving the hat floating behind him. 

Seconds later, the man popped up above the surface, sputtering in anger. “JIMMY!” he shouted. “Did you plan this all day?”

Jimmy didn’t answer, because he was bent over double laughing so hard he could barely breathe. He wiped a tear from his eye. 

“That could be considered an act of war, you know!” Joel yelled. 

“You wouldn’t,” Jimmy wheezed. 

“Oh, I will,” Joel said. “In fact, here’s my first attack!”

And with a great effort, Joel grabbed Jimmy’s foot from where it dangled over the dock, and pulled him in after him, and Jimmy laughed the whole way down until water filled his lungs and forced his gills to start working again. 

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2.

Jimmy was not having a good day. Or, well–series of days. 

Yesterday, he’d received word from one of his merchants who had been traveling home via the river of a fish kill upstream. Dozens of fish, all inexplicably dead and floating in the water. They’d come straight to his governing office to report it as soon as they were back in the bounds of the empire. 

It wasn’t within his borders. The reported fish that were killed were all salmon. Some people would likely think that would make Jimmy happy but . . . he winced.

It’s for the greater good. 

Salmon were large fish. It was the wrong time of year for spawning season, where salmon frequently died after laying their eggs. If something had killed many of them, then it was undoubtedly screwing with the rest of the river too. It was likely that smaller fish, plants, amphibians, invertebrates, and more were also killed. 

And water flowed. 

And Jimmy’s empire was downstream. 

It could be a magical accident. Jimmy had made sure his advisor questioned the merchant about that, but the average person could not detect magic like Jimmy could, and thus the merchant didn’t know. It could also be some form of pollution–something that lowered the oxygen in the water, or perhaps a chemical. And that was why Jimmy had ordered his staff hydrologist to take samples.

Samples whose lab work were now laying on his desk. Jimmy squinted at the papers. He was no scientist–he was the Codfather, it was his job to rule, he had governmental officials for this sort of work–but he did know a little about it. It was good to know, because it was important and he might have to make final decisions over it. He couldn’t be totally out of the loop on issues that could mean life or death in his empire. 

Either way, he knew enough about the reports he was reading to know they weren’t good. There were no reported cod deaths in his empire so far, but the ecosystem was stressed. Jimmy could feel it. They couldn’t afford the problem getting worse. 

Before he could examine the paper much more, there was a fast knock on his door. 

“Come in,” he called. 

The door swung open to reveal one of Jimmy’s advisors, who spoke quickly. “Sir, the Ocean Queen is–”

Lizzie ducked past the man and walked through the door. “I don’t need an introduction to see him, I can come anytime I like. Isn’t that right, Codfather?” She winked. 

Jimmy rolled his eyes and set down the paper. “You’re always welcome in my empire, Lizzie. Come sit down.”

“See?” Lizzie turned to the advisor and smiled a little too sweetly. Jimmy just shrugged apologetically and waved him away. He appreciated the effort of the warning but it wasn’t really necessary for his sister. She’d have climbed in a window or mined through the wall if his advisor had said no, anyway. 

“What do you need?” he asked. “‘Cause I’m having a busy day.”

“You? Busy? I doubt it,” Lizzie said snarkily, before stopping and correcting herself. “No, wait, nevermind, the thing I’m here about is probably the same thing you’re busy with. See, I’ve got some papers of my own.” She pushed them across the table. 

Jimmy picked them up, but he already knew what they were. He scanned the headings of the lab reports. 

2,4,6-trinitrotoluene, 2-amino-4,6-dinitrotoluene, and 4-amino-2,6-dinitrotoluene. 

Those were the same chemicals from Jimmy’s report. Lizzie’s listed a few more complex chemicals–2,4,6-trinitrobenzaldehyde, 1,3,5-trinitrobenzene, 2,4,6-trinitrobenzoic acid, and 2-amino-4,6-dinitrobenzoic acid–and less of the first one than Jimmy’s had. The numbers were a bit less concentrated, but overall similar. Jimmy didn’t need his hydrologist to tell him it was the same problem. 

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Me too.”

“Jimmy,” Lizzie said. “This water came from you. Your estuary opens out into my ocean. These readings are from the edge of our border.”

Jimmy gave her a sharp look. “You can’t think this is me,” he said, a little too hotly. 

Lizzie raised an eyebrow, and crossed her arms. “Of course not,” she said. “I came here to see what you want to do about it.” She gestured at the paper. “These concentrations aren’t enough to bother the ocean. The ocean’s big, so it’s all diluted. But it is large enough to prompt a visit to an ally. So since you clearly already know, what are you going to do about it?”

Jimmy leaned back in his chair, tipping his head back and staring at the ceiling. “I need to talk to fWhip,” he said finally. “Trinitrotoluene. That’s TNT. The hydrologist told me that the other chemicals are what it degrades into when it’s exposed to sunlight in surface water.”

“Well, I can stay here for the meeting if you’d like,” Lizzie said, reading his mind. “Two empires are more intimidating than one.”

Jimmy sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t wanna have to intimidate him. I just want him to take me seriously.”

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

fWhip arrived alone, and Jimmy thought he should feel snubbed about that. 

Casual meetings between rulers were rarely accompanied by guards or advisors, especially between allies. Lizzie and Joel certainly didn’t bring any of their people to Jimmy’s when they visited, for example. They didn’t even make appointments or let him know they were coming most of the time. They didn’t even always knock.

Hell, Jimmy preferred to go places alone too. He wasn’t a fan of pomp and circumstance and making a fuss and having people follow him around. But this wasn’t a casual visit, this was official serious business. And Jimmy and fWhip were not allies. And fWhip hadn’t even brought any of his environmental personnel. Jimmy had brought along his chief advisor, staff hydrologist, and staff ecologist. 

Hence, Jimmy felt like he wasn’t being taken very seriously right now. 

Nothing made him angrier. He couldn’t show that though, lest he was taken even less seriously. If fWhip knew he was riled up, he’d continue to push his buttons and try his luck. No, he had to be calm. He grit his teeth a little behind his smile. 

fWhip was measured, but standoffish. He listened patiently to Jimmy’s explanation of water pollution and how it had to have come from a spill upstream, but his expression was closed off and unreadable. Jimmy knew he had to explain the connection to be listened to. Whatever happened further up the river wasn’t located in his empire, and he had no ability to clean it or fix it. But it was affecting the Cod Empire just the same, so he needed help.

Or a threat. This was the safety of his land and people on the line, and while the problem wasn’t an imminent mortal hazard, he still needed to guarantee it wouldn’t happen again. If he failed to talk it out now, he’d have to escalate this. A threat with fWhip was unlikely to go down very well though, and Jimmy didn’t want to make the relations between their empires any more tense than it already was. 

As such, Jimmy needed diplomacy.

Before he could bring out the lab reports though, fWhip spoke up. “I don’t understand why you’ve called me over here,” he said, crossing his arms. “Why not Sausage? He’s your nearest neighbor upriver. Or even Joey is further upstream. I’m a lot further away than the rest of them. How can you prove this came from my empire?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” Lizzie said, and when she smiled her sharp predator teeth glinted dangerously. She handed fWhip the Cod Empire documents. “Tell me, what do you see in there?”

fWhip was silent as he flipped through the papers. He didn’t respond, but he scowled. Jimmy knew he recognized the chemicals. There was no way that fWhip–alchemist, tinkerer, engineer, inventor–didn’t know what he worked with. 

“Is your empire not the server’s leading manufacturer of gunpowder and explosives?” Lizzie asked. What a leading question! Jimmy almost wanted to reach over and high five her, except that it’d be terribly unprofessional in such a serious meeting. 

“I am,” fWhip said cooly, returning the documents. He looked at Lizzie and Jimmy. “This looks like the result of discharge from TNT manufacture. There’s TNT, compounds from the degradation of TNT, and chemicals associated with red water that’s produced during the TNT purifying process. It’s highly toxic.” He paused for a moment. “It’s also illegal to dump this in my empire.”

“Are you following your own laws, fWhip?” Lizzie asked. 

“I always dispose of my waste properly,” fWhip snapped. 

Jimmy cringed a little. He was certain it was from the Grimlands–not only did the chemicals match up with his manufacturing processes, but the location of the reported fish kill matched up for a place further upstream than Sausage. He had no jurisdiction, though. He couldn't fly over to the spill, document it and prove it was from the Grimlands, and go home. He wasn’t allowed to collect data from there–he was barely allowed as a guest in normal times. 

Well, it was time to pull out his secret weapon. 

“Do you know how I knew to test for this?” Jimmy asked. 

“No.”

“One of my people was traveling between empires and found a fish kill upstream, which they reported right away. They reported that the dead fish appeared to have hemorrhages, which can be caused by this type of exposure.” He made eye contact with fWhip, and really tried to drive it home. “They were salmon, fWhip. Don’t you want to protect them?”

 Don’t let pride get to you, he wanted to say. Just because you have to admit I’m right.

fWhip sighed. “I don’t know anything about any waste discharges,” he said. “If one of my forges has been disposing of waste by dumping it in the river, they are breaking the law. If it was a spill, then I haven’t been notified, which is also breaking the law. But it’s definitely explosives manufacturing waste, and I can’t risk the salmon.” He frowned. “I would have thought you wouldn’t care about that, Jimmy.”

Jimmy shook his head. “For the greater good,” he muttered. “It affects all of us.”

fWhip nodded once, then stood up and quickly gathered the copies of the reports that Jimmy’s hydrologist had supplied. He tightened the strap on his elytra. “Well,” he said. “Thank you for bringing to my attention.”

“Thank you for listening,” Jimmy said, and he meant it. 

fWhip headed for the door, but before he went he threw a glance back and called over his shoulder. “Don’t get your scales in a twist, Codfather,” he said. “I’ll fix this. You’ll be hearing from me again soon.”

And then he was gone. Jimmy let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, and laid his head down on the desk. 

“I think we did well,” Lizzie said. 

“Ugh,” Jimmy groaned, muffled by the wood. “That was almost a disaster.”

“What do you think he’ll do about it?”

“He’ll do something,” Jimmy said. “I don’t know what, but he won’t want to look like he’s not in control of things happening in his empire.”

The staff hydrologist stepped up. “If I may,” she started.

“Of course,” Lizzie said. 

“I can tell you what he might do,” the hydrologist said. “It’s not up to us to choose how to handle it since it didn’t happen within our borders. But we’ll probably be fine anyway if the source of the spill is stopped. For rivers, time and dilution can work wonders. The further it dilutes into larger bodies of water, the less concentrated the contamination will be, and it will be less likely for our ecosystem to be badly harmed. We’ll likely be able to get by with increased monitoring until all the contamination diffuses.”

“What about the source?” Jimmy asked. 

“It’s hard to say. He could try some bioremediation methods, or even install a filter across the mouth of the river. He could divert water and try and treat it before it is redirected back into the river.  Most importantly, he should ensure this doesn’t happen again.”

Jimmy sighed. “Thank you,” he said. “I suppose this is the best we can hope for when it’s not actually within my borders. He put his arm around Lizzie and pulled her into a half-hug. “Thanks for staying, Lizzie. Definitely made it look more legit.”

“I know,” Lizzie said. “What would you do without me?”

“Probably start a war with fWhip.”

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

3.

“So, Jimmy,” Scott said. “What am I here for today?”

“Um,” Jimmy said, raising his hand over his eyes and squinting at the sunlight behind Scott. The sun rises in the east, and Rivendell is southeast of the Cod Empire. Sometimes in the morning Jimmy looked at the rising sun and wondered if Scott was awake yet. He was definitely awake this morning, since he’s standing in the Cod Empire with his back to the rising sun. It’s like a halo of light around his head. 

“So?” Scott prompted again, gesturing with one hand. “I don’t have all day, you know.”

Jimmy blinked. “I was wondering if you wanted to build an embassy.”

Scott cocks his head. “Didn’t I already build one over there?” He gestures to the lily pads where all of Jimmy’s allies have built little statues. 

“Yeah, well, it’s just . . .” Jimmy trails off. “Too small? I mean, you couldn’t stay the night there if you wanted. It’s just for decorative purposes. I mean, I built one at your empire . . .”

“Ohhhh.” Something changed in Scott’s stance. He leaned forward, a little too closely, and made direct eye contact with Jimmy, who until that point had mostly been looking just off to the side of Scott’s eyes. The edge of Scott’s mouth tugged upwards. “Are you trying to invite me to spend the night, Codfather?”

“No, no, no, it’s not like that, I just mean-” Jimmy’s face was suddenly hot like the sunburns he’d learned to avoid in the swamp. Scott was nearly bent over laughing at him. “Well, now you’re not invited to my empire anymore,” Jimmy said, trying to retain at least a little of his dignity. 

“You’re banning me?” Scott said. He raised an eyebrow skeptically. 

“Yes. For life.”

“Hm,” Scott said. “Seems like a blessing, honestly. Your empire has so many mosquitos. And it’s so not cute here.”

“Hey-”

“Where do the Ocean Queen and the King of Mezalea stay?” Scott asked, interrupting before Jimmy had a chance to sputter any indignant defense of his empire. Slime worked perfectly well as a repellent, even if Scott refused to touch it. The Cod Empire’s aesthetics might not be as grand as the other empires’, but they serve their purpose and Jimmy finds more comfort and familiarity in them than anywhere else. 

And, well. The question. Jimmy wasn’t not sure how to say Lizzie is always welcome in my house and Joel just comes by and crashes without any prior warning. They were more than just old friends, they were literally family. Even before Jimmy had found out Lizzie was his sister, they’d felt a little like family. 

Scott was different. Rivendell was a new ally to the Cod Empire. They didn’t have years of prior relationship between them. Jimmy thought it was, well, a little too personal. Maybe someday. 

“They stay in my house,” he said finally. 

Scott’s mouth dropped open in mock offense. “So I’m not even special enough to stay in the Codfather’s house? Wow, I guess it’s a good thing I’m banned then.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes, but fought to keep a smile off his face. “Enough! Enough. Do you want to build an embassy or not, Scott?”

“Sure.”

“Great. I have a spot in mind for it, and I can call over my engineers to discuss your plans. You can bring in one of your royal architects, to make sure that the decorative elements of Rivendellian architecture make it into the final product. The project will be overseen and constructed by my team–”

“No, no,” Scott said, shaking his head. “You don’t have to give me your engineers, I have my own. I don’t want to end up with some Cod Empire building, I’ll ask them to build something cuter than that.”

Jimmy frowned. The insult to his building hardly even registered to him at this point–it might as well have passed through his brain like water through his gills. He knew he didn’t have the prettiest empire, it wasn’t new knowledge. And he knew Scott liked to tease him about it. But what caught Jimmy’s attention this time was that Scott really, really wasn’t making the sensible choice here. 

Did he even realize? “Um,” Jimmy said. “This isn’t Rivendell, this is the swamp. You need my engineers. They’ll provide–”

Scott waved his hand. “Don’t worry Jimmy, I’ll still report to them. I won’t build anything where I’m not allowed and I won’t ‘harm the swamp.’ But if this is to be a Rivendell embassy, then it is part of Rivendell and I won’t be building a Cod Empire building.”

Jimmy opened his mouth to object again, but a larger, pettier part of his mind made him shut it again. The rising sun was still behind Scott, but it was higher now, shining less like a halo around the edges of his hair and instead beating down on his head. Maybe Scott could afford to be knocked down a few pegs. 

It was ill-advised, inefficient, and possibly even irresponsible, but Jimmy thought the satisfaction of seeing Scott flounder would be worth it. What better way to gain a little respect for the Cod Empire than direct action?

It’s not like Jimmy didn’t have a precedent for doing ill-advised, inefficient, and irresponsible things. 

The Cod Empire’s buildings weren’t grand or beautiful like other empires. The nicer rulers said his buildings were “simple” or “homely,” while the ruder ones outright called them ugly. Jimmy knew this. Aesthetic architecture had never been a part of Cod Empire culture and he was fine with that. After all, floods and typhoons can cause significant damages. 

But what the Cod Empire was really good at was making buildings that last.

Fluctuating water and particulate matter levels? Some areas of the swamp were anoxic, leaving submerged wood practically preserved without any special treatment since it couldn’t rot without any oxygen. In other areas, the constant moisture caused severe decay. Flooding? Many buildings in the Cod Empire were built on stilts because of this, depending on elevation. Typhoons? Houses in the Cod Empire were built with thick and reinforced walls, but flexible enough to move with wind instead of breaking, if needed.

There were parables that reminded the reader that good things came from having sturdy foundations. Unfortunately, the point was always moot in Jimmy’s empire. Sturdy foundations didn’t mix with wet, submerged, and sinking soil. So the Cod Empire drove piles into the ground until it hit solid ground, and made floating foundations. They made amphibious houses to float on floodwater when required to. The Cod Empire had developed special engineering techniques that as far as Jimmy was aware, hadn’t made their way to other empires yet. 

So no, the Cod Empire’s architecture was not pretty, but it was sturdy. Jimmy didn’t care if it had awe-inspiring castles and steep spires. It just needed to last, and it did. 

Rivendell had rock foundations, blasted and carved out of the mountainside. 

Jimmy’s foundations were floating, ever complicated and up to the whims of nature.

This could end up being fun, on second thought. 

Jimmy shrugged. “Do what you want,” he said with an easy smile. “It’s your embassy.”

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

“Codfather.”

“Iris.”

She stood in front of him, on the balls of her feet. A large grin split her face, crinkling the corners of her eyes. The gill-fins on the side of her head twitched a little in excitement. 

“I just wanted to say, to start, that this is the best thing you’ve ever asked me to do.”

Jimmy shook his head, unable to keep the corner of his mouth from turning up. “I hope you’re not enjoying this too much.”

“Well, it is a lot of fun to watch them. I’ve never found construction work so interesting.”

“What’s the latest?”

“Cracking foundation. They had to repour it twice, and then it didn’t dry properly and sank.”

Jimmy laughed. “And how distressed is Scott over this?”

Iris tilted her head. “Pretty annoyed. His engineers were convinced that the soil substrate wouldn’t pose any problems and they promised him a much faster timetable than this.”

“Iris,” Jimmy asked. “I’ve known you for a long time. You’ve been my closest advisor. Tell me: is this really evil of me? Like, on a scale of one to ten, how bad of a person am I to let this continue for this long?”

Iris tapped her foot, making a big show of thinking it over. “Well, sir . . . if you asked me, I’d say Rivendell has had this coming for a long time. So maybe it’s like a 5, sort of rude, but hey, you did offer our engineers to them and they refused it. So yeah, I think this will make them put a little respect on the Cod Empire name.”

“So you don’t think this will, like, cause a war or anything?”

“You can fire me if it does.”

“I don’t think I could manage this place without you.”

“I know you can’t,” Iris winked, before twirling around and walking out, braid swinging behind her. “Besides,” she called back just before she stepped out of the door, with a certain tone in her voice Jimmy had trouble placing. “I don’t think Scott exactly wants to fight you.”

Well, he’d never been very opposed to the idea of fighting in the past, Jimmy thought–although they were allies now. But he also insulted the Cod Empire a lot, so maybe he deserved this a little.

Jimmy pushed back in his chair and looked out the window. The builders had been at work for a few weeks now. They had previously made blueprints for other embassies and were using the same one, so architecture hadn’t been a concern. Only the site condition and foundation remained an issue. The Rivendellian engineers had surveyed the site though, to their credit. 

They just . . . didn’t have the knowledge of how to build in a swamp. They had no experience trying to build on a moving, unstable, saturated surface. The mountains in Rivendell didn’t move at nearly the pace the swamp did. 

And as such, they were struggling. Hard. 

They didn’t just have to keep the foundation and building from shifting, but they had to make sure that it didn’t flood. And they had to do this within the rules of Jimmy’s empire–wetlands were very important ecosystems, and Jimmy didn’t want them going in and messing anything up. Of course, constant construction and tearing down failed foundations wasn’t great for the land either, but Jimmy found he didn’t worry about that so much when he was enjoying Scott’s frustration. 

He went outside to supervise them in the afternoon. He didn’t have much paperwork to do for Codfather duties and was already through for the day. He never did. Not that’d he tell the other emperors that, though. They’d probably turn up their noses and make some comment about how of course he had nothing to do, he wasn’t a legitimate empire. 

Jimmy thought a lot of that red tape was unnecessary if you ruled properly, made things simple the first time, and had people who respected you. And that it wasn’t a bad thing if your people saw you enjoying some free time once and a while–especially if they felt comfortable enough to join in. He found he got to know a lot of people better like this. 

He decided to use his free time to lounge around the edge of the construction site with a smug look on his face and see how long it took for Scott to come up and start yelling at him. 

It took about five minutes. 

Scott, engaged in some sort of argument with an engineer, turned and saw Jimmy leaning against another building in the shade, and stalked over. It looked like he was muttering to himself. His hair, normally perfectly styled, was a little sweaty. That just made Jimmy even more smug, because Scott wasn’t exactly used to exerting himself in the hot sun since Rivendell was so cold. 

“What did you do?” he demanded. 

“Me?” Jimmy said. “I didn’t do anything. I’m just standing here. My people aren’t involved in this project at all.”

“Stop smiling,” Scott groaned. “There’s nothing here to smile about.”

“I disagree,” Jimmy said, still grinning. “My advisors and I are having a great time with this.”

“Well I’m not,” Scott said petulantly. “Why didn’t you warn me? Why won’t you help me?”

“Huh,” Jimmy said. “Last I remember you didn’t want any input from the Cod Empire on your design. You said you’d build something cuter instead.” He looked over Scott’s shoulder to where someone was somewhat frantically trying to fashion a water pump for the foundation. “I figured your grand Rivendellian architects could handle a little water. Aren’t they the best in the land?”

“They are,” Scott hissed. 

“Then why don’t they know how to build something on wet ground? I mean, I guess they could be the best in the ‘land’ but not the best in the water–”

“Rivendell is not this wet!” Scott cried. “Or muddy! There’s no saturated ground and sinking foundations. They’re perfectly good engineers.”

“So you agree that your engineers only know how to build in Rivendell?” Jimmy asked. “Because I offered you mine and you refused them.”

Scott glared at him. “My engineers could build in any place. It’s just your swamp that’s stupid.”

“The swamp,” Jimmy said sternly, “is just existing. And it’s been the home of my people for generations before, and will be for generations to come.”

Scott sighed, picking up Jimmy’s not-so-subtle irritation. As much as Jimmy got teased, there was a limit that all the rulers recognized where teasing dropped into true offense. Scott backed off, but he didn’t apologize. “Your swamp’s fine,” he mumbled. “It’s just difficult to build in. I can’t believe you all live like this.”

“It’s difficult for you to build in,” Jimmy said. “My people do it just fine.”

Scott turned partially away from Jimmy, scanning the horizon full of houses. He had a look on his face like maybe it was the first time he’d actually seen any of this and properly paid attention to it. “How do you do it?” he asked finally. “My engineers don’t know the techniques.”

“Well,” Jimmy said. “How about I show them? Or, well, I guess it wouldn’t be me specifically showing you, I’ll call my head engineer and architect over here, ‘cause I’m not the one who actually does the calculations for these things, I just sign off on them–”

“Jimmy,” Scott interrupted. “I’d like that.”

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

Thank you for reading! :D Sources, links I used or found while writing this, cool things I found (well I thought they were cool) etc can be found in reblog of this post!

#empires smp #empires s1 #empires jimmy #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #solidarity gaming #empires fanfic #smallishbeans #ldshadowlady #fwhip #scott smajor #quara fanfic

[ammonitetheseaserpent]

PENULTIMATE CHAPTER TIME! PENU-

Ahem

*whispers into mic* Penultimate chapter time. Also second TOTM Wednesday.

This one is a doozy. Easily the longest - and most emotionally intense/possibly darkest - chapter in this fic! No, seriously, this is gonna be heavy. There’s a moment in here you probably shouldn’t read if you’re squeamish.

It’s pretty much the climax of this fic, I’d say, and I am ecstatic to share it w/ you all!

Tide of Tide Minds

Chapter 5: Cosmically Opposed

Summary: The Titan Trappers finally make their way to what they call the carcass kingdom. Chaos ensues.

Chapter Word Count: 2,350

Trigger Warnings: Kidnapping (seriously there’s one scene that’s. kinda creepy when I reread it), character injury, character death, graphic (a bit)

-

The army drifts steadily across the Boiling Sea. An army with a single destination, a single goal, in mind.

They’re going to the carcass kingdom, to finish what they started.

A roiling breeze strokes the brine around them in the opposite direction - almost as if some force is trying to deter them, get them to turn back. But the army paddles forward, driven by solemn determination, a flame burning within each of them.

Before long, a series of barely audible thuds punctuate the night as each boat is gently jostled to a stop. A small, scruffy figure clambers out of one of the vessels, briefly scanning his surroundings, before motioning to the others to step out onto land. As the army gathers their weapons and makes their way onto the shoreline, the small figure gives a toothy grin.

Soon, their prey will be within reach.

-

“…aaaand that’s everything!”

The Collector waves their hands with a gleeful flourish, stepping away from the large mat, pot, and colorful winks they’d created per King’s instructions.

“Now we just need to set it all up!” the cosmic being declares.

King nods, rolling some stray winks back onto the mat. “Got someplace in mind?”

“Hmmm…” the Collector muses. His eyes shift over to a gulf a little ways from their current spot near the lower knee. “How abooouuut… there?”

King blinks, baffled. “The- you wanna play tiddlywinks- down there? I mean… do you want the shock rays to give us their complaints?”

“Maybe I do; you don’t know everything about me,” the Collector retorts light-heartedly.

King stifles a laugh. “Hey, just an idea - maybe we could… both look for a spot? Together?” King suggests, hoping to delay the notion of gulf-tiddlywinks as long as possible.

The Collector gives a drawn-out shrug. “Mm’kay.” They scoop up King and rise into the evening air, far enough so that they both have a full view of the Isles.

As King’s eyes drift across his father’s landmass form, he spots something that makes his heart skip a beat.

After a moment, he shakes his head irritably. Great - the sunlight’s playing tricks on me.

But he could swear he’d seen…

He looks in that direction again, more tentatively.

And there they are.

No.

No, not them.

How? How are they here??

The Collector seems to notice King’s stunned silence and frowns in a bit of concern, waving a hand in front of his face. “King? You there?”

King doesn’t respond. After a long moment, they follow his gaze, eyes glowing as he uses his powers to zoom in their vision. As soon as he does, the Collector gives a start, eyes widening. “Whoa- I know those guys!” Then their eyes narrow as he adds, “They’re weird.”

A shudder runs down King’s spine, making his fur stand on end. “We have to go back. Back to the Archives.”

“What? Why?” The Collector asks, baffled. “We haven’t even started the game yet!”

“If they find me…” King chooses his words carefully, trying to find some way to phrase them in a way that’ll help the Collector understand the urgency of the situation.

“They’ll take me away from you. Permanently.”

-

During the afternoon, Bill had sent out three search parties of four Trappers each. Their orders: search the kingdom for their quarry, making sure to lie low. As soon as the Titan child was reported found, they would all return, taking it to their rudimentary base in order to complete the ritual sacrifice.

Bill himself had taken three Trappers along for a fourth group, and they’re trudging along the ribcage toward the head. The youngest one of the group holds the task of clambering up each rib they come across and using that vantage point to scout for any sign of the Titan’s son.

Navigating the Isles has proven more difficult than they bargained for, as the entire place is glitter-ized with a cosmic pastel aesthetic, part of which being massive, floating blue star structures with menacing red eyes that turn anyone they zap into dolled-up, vacant-eyed versions of themselves. To top it all off, there’s some sort of structure balancing on the tip of the Isles’s horn, one shaped like a massive crown.

It’s well into the night before they finally spot what they’re looking for.

The young Trapper is peering through his sin-oculars when he lets out a shout from his perch. When the others approach, he says, “I saw something - some sort of… flat star? But the Titan child was definitely on there.”

Bill gives a start of surprise. “Wha-? Let me see!” he orders, snatching up the sin-oculars and using them himself. Zooming in, he sees the star the young Trapper described, and following it, he realizes it’s heading for the crown-like structure on the tip of the Titan’s horn. He grins.

That’s where we’re going.

Through some trial and error, the group is able to enter the structure. Bill commands them to split up and search every nook and cranny of this place until their prey is found.

Soon enough, he reaches a hole leading to a floating bedroom in the shape of a small moon.

From the bed on the right comes the unmistakable glint of horns.

There he is.

Bill feels almost lightheaded with delight.

Ducking his head out of the hole, he scrambles several paces back, then pulls out a contact crow. “Get everyone back to the base,” he whispers gruffly. “I found it.”

He returns to the bedroom almost at a run, aiming for the moon - overshooting and promptly crashing into it. Shaking his head, Bill clambers up the right side until the bed is in view.

Slowly, carefully, he creeps up to the bed to peer at his soundly sleeping quarry. After a moment, King flinches in his sleep, as if sensing something looming over him - then sits bolt upright in bed, leveling a startled look at Bill.

He opens his mouth, presumably either to call for help or blast the Titan Trapper away with one of his raucous shrieks.

Oh, no you don’t.

Quick as lightning, Bill lashes a hand forward to clamp the young Titan’s mouth shut. His now-muffled cries won’t be heard by anyone. Bill scoops him up.

“No one’ll be around to help you this time,” he growls, narrowing his eyes.

-

The Collector had been sleeping nice and cozy, until shadows had come and poisoned his dreams, turning them sour.

Pictures that they instinctively knew came from King - the small Titan being dragged off by a short, scruffy guy wearing a Titan-like skull thing, looking terrified. A whole room of what looked like Titan skulls that came with a vague but intense feeling of horror and finality. The whole thing was punctuated by King’s throat-gripping fear and despair.

It’s these that jerk the Collector rudely awake, panic prickling along their spine. Part of them hopes it had been a dream, though he knows that’s not likely.

That hope goes out the window when they glance over at King’s bed and find it empty.

Their core leaps into their throat.

He doesn’t completely understand everything he’d seen, or what they’re supposed to imply, or the feelings around them - he just knows it’s bad, and that King is in more danger than even they could know.

He suddenly remembers, too, that King had warned them something like this would happen. What had his friend said…?

“If they find me, they’ll take me away from you. Permanently.”

The line is punctuated in the Collector’s mind with another flash of the room full of Titan skulls - ones that are all close to the same size as King’s - and the overwhelming sense of foreboding that had come with it.

No. No.

They vault off their bed and through the hole to the rest of the Archives.

I have to find King right now.

The Collector searches the building, his panic growing by the second, but finds nothing. When they finally blast out of the building, they decide they need to narrow down the search and tap into his powers.

As he looks around with zoomed-in sight, it isn’t long before something catches their eye.

A group of people.

When the Collector looks at the Titan skulls - ones that are close to the size of King’s - the group are wearing, that sends many unwelcome thoughts his way.

They’ve been acting weird lately, talking about something bigger and better they could do against Titans.

They took King away.

They might have done something awful (permanent) to him.

They may have done something awful (permanent) to a lot of the little Titans I used to know.

Something finally snaps.

The Collector screeches, a pained cry of rage, and falls upon the Titan Trappers like a storm.

They barely notice the roar of the earth quaking and splitting around them, barely make out the words in the Trappers’ cries to one another. All he can process is a chaotic din of overlapping noise and a mass of swirling figures wearing (King-sized) Titan skulls.

He’s consumed and driven by a single, primal need, a need that burns in every fiber of their being, to blast, tear, hurt something, hurt anything, take all the pain they felt from King and all the pain they themselves feel and let it all out on something, make them feel it all tenfold. He needs to shake the figures around him to their core, cause them all such fear as to make sure they get and stay as far away from everyone he holds dear as possible.

He’s able to focus through the haze around his mind just enough to pin down a Titan Trapper at random, just enough to form his agonized screams into three words.

“WHERE IS HE?”

-

King doesn’t know how long it takes Bill to reach the Titan Trappers’ base on the Isles - not that he wants to know. Every second that ticks by is torture when he knows it’s a second closer to his own execution. He’s beyond the point of panic; his most overpowering emotion right now is sickening despair.

Suddenly, they both hear something - something faint but unmistakably chaotic. Bill hears it too; he stops and raises a clawed hand to where his ear is underneath the skull he wears. “What the …?” he mutters, starting forward again with more measured steps.

It doesn’t take them much longer to reach a close view of the base. Bill stops again, and King tilts his head forward to have a clear view himself.

The sounds almost aren’t enough to prepare King for the sight.

The base is in complete shambles, the earth cracked and jutting all around it as if a massive fist had collided with it. The Titan Trappers themselves are sprawled and scattered all over, some running away. At the center of it all, floating in the sky, is a familiar figure, intense and moving wildly.

Bill buckles forward upon seeing them. “He’s… free.” His voice is hushed with awe.

King feels the grip on him suddenly jerk tight as Bill rushes down to his camp, the Titan Trapper leader practically radiating manic jubilation. A few of the Trappers see Bill on his way down and their eyes light up, but he pays them no mind as he dashes to the top of the tallest piece of jutting land.

“At last!” He cries out, exulting. “Fortunate smiles upon me, for the day of reckoning has finally come!”

King sees the Collector turn in the air at Bill’s shout, their face blank for a brief second - before it twists into all-consuming rage, his teeth bared and gritted, his eyes blazing. With a shrill, wordless shout, they rocket down toward the Titan Trapper.

Bill looks up at the star child arrowing in his direction; he must be too wrapped up in his euphoria to notice their anger, because he tosses King roughly to the ground and raises his arms to the sky in glee, as if waiting for some sort of reward.

He gets one, but not the one he expects.

The moment the Collector collides with Bill, a sickening crack blasts King’s eardrums.

…

Several moments pass. If there’s not much noise, or if he just can’t hear it over the fading ringing in his ears, King can’t tell.

When he finally opens his eyes, the Titan Trappers are retreating - hurrying back to get their boats together and leave, making sure their wounded are set securely onto the vessels. Tarak in particular carefully takes Bill with him. King only flicks one glance at him and immediately wishes he hadn’t, as the scruffy Trapper’s head is at an angle it definitely shouldn’t be. They seem to be in some sort of daze, not completely knowing what to do with themselves without their leader, but clearly intent on getting out of the Isles as fast as they can - which is just fine with King.

He glances over at the Collector. There are stains of red on their right hand, as well as a few flecks on their face. They’re curled into themselves, shaking - King can’t say if it’s more from shock or their dissipating rage.

Upon realizing that he’d instinctively sent the cosmic child a mental cry for help, King didn’t know what to expect. He certainly didn’t expect to hear them rain calamity down on the Trappers the moment he got close to the base. He’d had a sense that the Collector may genuinely care about him, and what happened to him, but it would appear he’d underestimated just how much.

Tentatively, King approaches his friend and sits by him, wrapping his tail around his hind limbs and resting his chin on his knees. He feels a slight weight as the Collector leans onto him a bit, and looking up, sees their face crinkled with an internal knot of emotion.

Two godlike children sit silently over a shore. One looks at nothing, the other carefully observes everything.

#the owl house #the owl house au #toh au #tide of tied minds #the owl house fic #toh fic #toh the collector #the collector toh #the collector #toh king #king clawthorne #toh titan trappers #titan trappers #toh bill #toh tarak #my jottins #tw character death #tw kidnapping

[brightlycoloredteacups]

Hiii, can you write a smut that Orm gets jealous and makes Y/n suck him in the throne room, And makes her call him Ocean Master🙏🙏 with face fucking, spanking, angry sex, choking, hair pulling and anything else you want As much as you want to write ❤️❤️

Whelp...I didn't get to the spanking but I hope I did ok enough!

            You and Orm had been fighting a lot recently. It wasn’t normal. From the moment you two met years ago there hadn’t been an angry word between you and now you couldn’t stop shouting at each other. Orm intrinsically understood all the fighting was his fault. He was letting his insecurities get the best of him, but it was hard not to. Everything had been ripped from him, his home, his former fiancée, his teacher. He went from beloved Prince Orm to the black fish seemingly overnight. Sure, Arthur and Mera forgave him for his heroics when he saved junior, but the people of Atlantis had long memories. Besides, you were like, really hot and it annoyed him that you weren’t around much anymore.

            You were a general in the Atlantean army. Your tactical know-how and battle prowess were legendary. So much so the Brine King himself asked for your hand in marriage. On top of that, you were incredibly intelligent with a special interest in what Arthur called ‘anthropology’. You went out of your way to learn about the people of the Seven Kingdoms of Atlantis and now, the surface world. Arthur relied on you heavily for diplomacy, which took you away a lot. Now, you were spending more time with Arthur than Orm was comfortable with. Thus, all the fighting.

            Orm was in the throne room, looking at the seat of Atlantis, trying his best not to grind his teeth into his gums. “Your highness?” Your voice rings out clear. The title irritates him further, you, his beloved, don’t call him that, you call him by his name. He turns around, glaring at you. You meet it with a stony look of your own. “Is this what we’re reduced to?” He asks, “Honorifics?”

“Well, you’re not acting much like a lover these days.” Orm feels his eye twitch. “Neither have you.”

“What’s the supposed to mean?” He doesn’t miss the hurt in your voice, but he’s seeing red. He swims up to you, only stopped by your hand around his throat. It isn’t enough to hurt, but he knows if you decide to squeeze, he’ll be in a pain he’d never felt before. “Why are you spending so much time with Arthur?” His tone is accusatory, yours is flat when you respond. “It’s my job.”

“You’re late coming back to our quarters,”

“We have a lot to discuss.”

“You spend a lot of time in here.”

“It’s the throne room, of course we do.”

“You’re alone with him.” He feels your fingers tighten in frustration. Something in Orm’s cock stirs. “Only because I have to be.”

“Because you want to be.” He snaps. Your fingers tighten to a painful degree as you bring him close. Another thrill runs through him. “What has gotten into you?”

“How do you think it looks when my woman spends all her free time with Arthur? Hm? How does it look to outsiders when you two leave this place alone after hours of being here. What do you wonder they’re thinking you two get up to?” You snarl and push him back with so much force he hits the throne with a small ‘oof’. “What do others think or what you think?” You spit at him. “Do you honestly think I’d go for someone like Arthur when I have you?”

            There’s a heavy silence that lingers between you two for a long time. You’d given him the validation he wanted, but his mind was clouding over with lust. He liked you aggressive. “Prove it,” Orm challenges, “Prove you like me better.” You roll your eyes in exasperation, crossing your arms. “And how do you propose I do that?” He doesn’t answer you, instead he considers you. You’re so beautiful, floating in front of him, angry, done with his shit. “Well?” You growl. That’s it, that’s all it takes for him to be at full mast.

            Not caring if you two get caught, Orm undoes his suit enough to bring his cock out. You look at it, mouth open in disbelief. “Are you insane?” You hiss. “No,” Orm says smiling, “I’m the Ocean Master,” You balk at him refusing to believe this was happening. “You said you wanted to prove to me you like me better, prove it.” He motions to his length. With only a few moments hesitation you relent. He swears he gets harder just knowing what you’re about to do as you swim to him. You begin to undo your own suit, but he puts up a hand to stop you. “Suck.” Is his simple command.

            You say nothing as you take position. He adjusts his posture, giving you better access. You waste no time in licking a long strip from base to tip. “No teasing,” He demands. You follow directions and pop the head in your mouth and give a particularly hard suck. He lets his head fall back at the phenomenal sensation. You set a brutal pace; what you can’t reach with your mouth you reach with your hands. He knows you can take him all the way and wants that from you now. You aren’t giving it to him, and that’s frustrating.

            He places his hands on either side of your head. You understood the significance of this action and place your hands on his thighs, bracing yourself for what’s coming. Even in his frustration and anger he waits for your silent signal to go ahead. You tap his thigh twice. You’re ready, good. He thrust into your mouth, stay there for a few seconds before pulling back out.

            It’s vicious, the way he fucks your mouth. You suck every time he pulls out and he just barely remembers to wait a few moments for you to take a breath. But this is what he needs, your permission to use you as he sees fit. To fuck you as he pleases. Who else would allow him to do this to them for free if not someone that truly cared for him? He climaxes within minutes, making sure he empties himself down your throat before ripping you off him. You’re gasping for breathe the moment he does, ignoring the spurts of cum that float around you.

            He pulls you into a standing position, undoes the bottom of your suit and turns you around so your ass faces him. If you two were in your private quarters, he’d take the time to return the favor. Taking your clit into his mouth and sucking you dry, but this wasn’t about you right now. Without waiting for you to say anything he grabs your hips and pulls you into his lap, his thick cock enters your wet cunt with ease. Good, you were at least enjoying this. “Move,” He commands. You begin to bounce, letting out little gasps of pleasure.

            He was a long way off in terms or orgasm, but you weren’t. He could tell from the way your pussy fluttered around him. His eyes rolled so far to the back of his head he nearly found his brain. “Don’t you dare cum until I tell you to,” He growls. He pulls you back to his chest, hand closing around your neck this time. His free hand manages to wiggle its way between your legs to find your clit. He rubs harsh circles, reveling in the sound of your whimpering. The position is awkward for you, so you can’t bounce up and down like you so desperately want to. You settle with grinding. “Who do you belong to?” He asks. “Orm Marius,” you say, his fingers tighten around your throat. He asks the question again, “Who do you belong to?”

“His highness, Prince Orm.” The hand around your throat tightens more. He’s aware that you’ll be blacking out if he leaves his grip that tight for long, he hopes you get the answer right this time. “Who-”

“O-ocean Master!” You manage weakly. His smile is wicked as he loosens his grip. “That’s right,” he tells you, allowing you a little more space to bounce. “That’s right, you belong to me, not to Arthur. Not to the king of Atlantis, but to me.”

“I don’t want to belong to anyone else.” He hadn’t expected your comment. It strikes a chord with him. You continue, “No one else is as good as you. No one fucks me like you, no one makes me come as hard as you. There’s no one else but you, Ocean Master, no one.” His ego stroked to the fullest, Orm decides to reward you for being such a good girl. Quicker than you can fathom, he switches positions. You’re bent over an arm of the throne, the metal digging painfully into your skin. Orm, his hands on your hips, is thrusting into you from behind. It wasn’t fast, but it was rough. Every time he pulls out and pushes back in you see stars. “Please, I won’t last much longer.” You tell him, gripping onto the back of the throne for support.

            You think your pleas fall on def ears until you hear him say, “Cum for me.” It’s as if your body is awaiting such a command. He watches as you writhe beneath him, coming hard around him. He groans at the feeling of your pussy squeezing him, milking him for everything he has, he lets himself go inside you, painting your walls with thick ropes of cum. You two stay in that position for a long while before you gather yourself and redo your clothing.

            You turn to him finally, lips pursed. “Do you feel better now?” You ask him. Actually, he felt foolish about the entire thing, but he nodded instead. “Good,” You bring him in for a deep kiss. He feels so silly for doubting you he can’t bring himself to look in your eyes. “We will never do this in the throne room again, do you understand?” He nods. “I mean it. Never.”

            He gives you another quick kiss. “Just the one time,” He promises. For the first time in weeks, you gave him a smile. He’s relieved. All the pressure building between you two had dissipated. “I love you,” He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you too,” you tell him. “Now, go back to our quarters,” you say, pulling away from him. “I’ll be along in a few moments; I have another meeting to attend.” Orm frowns, “What could Arthur possibly want to talk about this time?”

            You frown and shake your head, swimming away from him, “My meeting is with the Ocean Master,” You inform him, “Something about a performance review.” You shrug and disappear into the hall. Orm smiles to himself wondering how he got so lucky to find a woman like you.

#orm marius #orm x reader #ocean master #ask answered

[docgold13]

Profiles in Villainy

Queen Beryl

A powerful war general and commander of the Dark Kingdom, Queen Beryl led the Shitenou forces against The Moon Kingdom during Silver Millennium.  Although she succeeded in brining down the Moon Kingdom, Beryl was defeated and deposed by Queen Serenity.

Centuries later, Queen Beryl returned and sought the Silver Crystal, which she planned to use to take over the world and unleash dark energy upon the universe.  Beryl’s devilish scheme was opposed by Sailor Moon and her fellow Sailor Guardians.  

Following defeats at the hands of the Sailors, Queen Beryl became obsessed with collecting the life essence needed to resurrect the malignant energy being known as Queen Metalia.   She succeeded yet was eventually defeated when the Sailor Guardians used the Moon Prism Power to destroy both Queen Byeryl and Metalia.

Actress Keiko Han voiced the villainess in the original anime (with Naz Edwards and Jill Frappier voicing the character int he English language dub).  Queen Beryl first appeared in the premiere episode of the Sailor Moon anime airing on March 7th, 1992.

#Profiles in Villainy #Queen Beryl #Sailor Moon #Keiko Han #paper art #cut-out #Villains!