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halsins-herbal-underpants · 19 days

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Give Me Nothing To Hold

(Give Them Everything To Take)

A Halsin sadfic fea. Dayan (my Tav)

Rating: Gen

Note the tags!

CW: subjugation, emotional trauma, Lolth-sworn drow slave society

approx. 6.5k words

Read on Ao3

Trapped together by fate and circumstance under the thumb of a cruel Drow Matriarch, Dayan tries to offer Halsin a moment of peace. But in the Underdark, peace is antithesis to control, and control must be maintained. At any cost.

If only Dayan hadn't tried to give Halsin something tangible to hold, then maybe the druid wouldn't have had the last real piece of himself taken away.

Just a bit of events of Halsin's time in Menzobarranzan, set in the semi-AU of my Tav playthrough. Dayan and Halsin belonged to the same House & knew one another through Halsin's time in the Underdark.

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Dayan wished he'd eaten that morning. Nerves were making his stomach rumble with angry bile, and the last thing he wanted was an errant gurgle raising the Matron's irritation more than it already was. The situation was tense enough, and Dayan didn't want to add to it. Especially considering the focus of her ire was entirely his fault in the first place.

The wood elf currently knelt in front of the great chair in the Matron's hosting chamber, his forehead touching the cold stone in the proper posture. His arms were stretched before him to show he held no weapon.

Dayan had to scoff at the idea. He didn't have clothes -- she wouldn't allow it when she was angry with him. The notion he could have secreted a poisoned dagger on his person was absurd.

But the Ilharess was paranoid, of course, though no more than any of her peers. Her paranoia had served her well and seen her through seven assassination attempts, three of which were from her own daughters. It was that same paranoia that arranged this tableau before them.

The elf that prostrated himself before the Matron was incredibly large for his race, his only clothing the floor-length mane of pretty auburn hair that spread over his body like a cloak. It was unbound, spilling messily over his shoulders, sporting not a single one of the elaborate braids it usually did.

Something about that made Dayan feel uneasy. That hair was always ornamented with braids, elaborate twisting designs often woven with jeweled charms. To be allowed before the Matron in her audience chamber with his hair loose and wild was discomforting. Dayan's jaw creaked from clenching it tighter and he held his breath in a jolt of fear, but then relaxed slowly. She hadn't heard him. Her attention was focused, sharp and unyielding, on the wood elf.

He'd entered the chamber before the Matron, walking slowly before the assembled servants with head bowed; one of the higher concubines led him to kneel in front of the dias by a silver chain hooked to a rune-carved collar around his neck. Dayan recognized the common pit-slave collar that inhibited magic. The wood elf was a shapechanger, Dayan knew. A druid, though he wasn't quite clear on what that meant.

It didn't matter though, whatever power the elf may have had -- the collar denoted his current status and that was to be kept from accessing even the most basic of magics. It was only removed at the Matron's whims. She would not be removing it now.

Around him, the Matron's servants and swords had gathered as usual, awaiting their House Mother’s orders. As soon as she’d entered, foreheads touched the floor, silent and swift. Dayan had tried to keep his eyes on the lone chained figure as he crouched; the huge elf dropped to his knees with surprising grace and joined the rest in supplication.

The only thing that belied his perceived calm was a trembling in his hands – the delicate chains that attached to his shackles softly clinked, and Dayan felt his stomach drop and body prickle in fear.

But by the time the Matron arrived at the front of the chamber and took her seat, the trembling had stopped and the chains that wound around both his wrists and ankles were still and silent as the grave. It was impressive, Dayan thought, before he had to bow his head fully and hide his face.

The wood elf's name was Halsin and it was Dayan's fault he was here.

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"So after everything I have given you, all the ways I have sought to please you, my parzdiamo...this is how you repay me?"

Her words were short and clipped, acidic enough to burn. Slowly and too casually, she reached into a fold of her dress, between her breasts, and withdrew a short silver knife and sheath. The sheath and handle were decorated in some way but difficult to see from a distance. She held it aloft in long, delicate, sharp-nailed fingers and tilted her head at the wood elf.

He was silent, did not so much as twitch, and she smiled without mirth. Proper behavior; even in her anger, she was pleased.

"Servants, you may rise," she said airly, her legs slowly uncrossing, then crossing again. The slit of her spider-silk dress slid apart and showed her sharp-heeled shoes, leather bindings crossing up shapely calves. Her gaze fell on Halsin.

"You, my bear -- you will lift your head, sit up and speak. But only those loyal to me may stand."

Halsin finally looked up, rose slowly to sit on his heels. His hair slipped over his shoulders, but couldn't fully hide the lines of his gorgeous body. Dayan knew if the Matron was not there, there would be intrigued, curious and bawdy whispers among the servants, same as there always was when the consort was allowed to wander the rest of the grounds. But for now, there were just wide-eyed looks and slight smirks hidden behind hands.

Something about the attention made Dayan want to curse at them all, grab a blanket and run over to wrap it around those broad shoulders. Grab--

--grab his hand and run--

"--a gift," came a low, soft voice that only trembled a little at the edges, and Dayan realized he had drifted into impossible daydreams once again. Halsin's expression was calm and stoic as stone, though open and unguarded. You could be nothing else, speaking to the Matron.

"It was a gift, Mistress. A gift, only. I swear to you I am still loyal, still--" He stopped and Dayan blinked to see that stoic face warm slightly.

"Yes...?" It wasn't a question, so much as a command, the drow woman's silver-painted lips spreading subtly at the corners into something Dayan wouldn't have called a smile.

"Still yours," Halsin breathed, ignoring the snickers that surrounded him from the drow lining the walls. "I swear to you by my heart -- the knife has no true blade, I cannot use it to hurt you, to hurt anyone. I kept it because it was a gift."

The Matron tilted her head to the side in thought. "Do you swear to me by your deft hands and pretty eyes?" she asked softly. Halsin didn't reply. She continued, her voice getting slightly louder at each sentence.

"Do you swear to me by your bones and blood? By your tongue and teeth? By the impressive cock that hangs between your legs?"

She didn't reprimand the quiet giggles that circled the chamber, but nor did she smirk herself. She just watched him with hooded eyes, her words less a jest and more a list of what the wood elf may lose if she found his answers wanting. Halsin's face was flushed darker now and he swallowed thickly.

"I swear it by everything I am."

"You are darthiir! " She spat, rising in one swift motion and Dayan wondered how the wood elf did not flinch at her thunderous anger. The Matron's moods were so mercurial; perhaps he had just grown used to outbursts.

"You are nothing that I do not make you."

She walked up to him and grabbed his chin, her nails digging into the soft flesh of his jaw as she pulled his face up and up, stretching his neck painfully so he could meet her dark red eyes.

"Do not lie to me, parzdiamo, I will not have it. If this knife is not as you claim, then I'll know was an assassin's trap and you an unwitting dupe. And I will not have a fool warm my bed." She let go of his jaw and unsheathed the knife.

Dayan let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. The blade was dull and broken, rusted through in a way the handle was not. It would not cut hair, much less skin. The Matron peered at it and then gave a low chuckle.

"This is very old. And obviously from the surface. The craftsmanship is lacking, as all things are there. This blade has fallen to rust." She ran the blunt tip of it over her arm and snorted as it only cut a narrow, bloodless line that barely burned. "Useless. A poor gift indeed."

Halsin said nothing, but he seemed to relax -- though, only a little, because he was wise enough for that.

She turned back to him and touched his face once again, but this time her fingers were gentle on his cheek.

"Who gave this to you? You only need to speak their name and you will not be punished. But you must understand I cannot be disrespected in my own home. You accepted a gift behind my back. Not that you thought of it like that, I'm sure," she laughed softly and brushed fingers through the wood elf's bangs. To his credit, he didn't flinch.

"You just saw something shiny and pretty and wanted it, mmh? Silly thing," she teased, her laugh like sharp, glittering glass. Her finger grazed down his sweating forehead and tapped his nose. "If I'd known you craved shiny baubles and fripperies, darling child, I'd have long ago spoiled you rotten. Perhaps I still might. We'll go shopping soon, yes?" She held the knife between her fingers, her amused smile growing tight.

"Who gave this to you?"

Halsin took a deep breath. He tried to keep his expression calm and stoic as before, but it faltered right before he spoke, a flicker of true fear crossing his features briefly.

"...I do not know, Mistress. I -- I can't remember."

Dayan flinched but luckily the matron was not looking his way. If Halsin refused to tell her, then he would be punished severely and it would be all Dayan's fault. But if he told the truth, well. He'd still be punished, but less severely, at least. Perhaps he’d even get to keep all his limbs.

And Dayan would be sacrificed to the Spider Queen. Or fed to the temple arachnids. Or flayed alive and set on a pike as a warning to other servants. Or she might just slit his throat in the audience chamber, let him bleed out at her feet...

Dayan's hands couldn't stop shaking.

He gave the knife to Halsin because it had roses carved into the silver handle.

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Dayan approached the wood elf slowly during his meditation, in their Matron's garden. Slaves weren't usually permitted to sit in the gardens but the Matron made an exception for her favorite consort.

In truth Halsin hated being singled out like that; it made most of the other slaves avoid him, if not outright mock him for his perceived status. It was maddening to them, a male of the wood elf race garnering the adoration the Mistress and Master bestowed upon him.

If only they knew what form that admiration often took, they might have been more hesitant to condemn him.

They might, but Halsin knew in truth -- they would still hate him, just because they could. So he spent most of his free time alone.

Until lately, at least.

"Halsin?" the guardsman whispered quietly, making sure to approach the consort with a wide berth. Halsin startled easily when approached from the back, he'd learned. The wood elf looked up and his soft frown, the expression he normally wore when alone, disappeared entirely when he saw Dayan.

"Oh!" A smile, soft and warm, spread on that handsome face and Dayan felt his stomach flip. He couldn't help but feel a small jolt of pride at how much more at ease Halsin looked when he saw him approach, in these brief, furtive, stolen meetings.

He wanted to say 'happy' instead of just at ease, but he knew too many things about the wood elf's day-to-day to ever say that.

"Yes, my friend? What can I do for you?" Halsin asked, curiously.

"You can scoot over so I can sit," Dayan teased and Halsin laughed softly, moving over on the bench and allowing Dayan to plop down. They didn't have long -- the consort's next chaperone would be approaching soon. Dayan had made sure to memorize the schedule between shift changes well. So he didn't waste any time on pleasantries, as much as he craved hearing Halsin talk.

"Here, look at this," he said. "I've had this for a long time, but just realized you might be able to identify -- well, here."

He pulled a knife from his pocket and held it up. It was silver, with carved vines and leaves and flowers alongside the edge of the handle and wrapped around its base. The sheath was heavy leather and also carved with the same imagery. "Can you tell me what these are, surrounding the handle? I'm sure they're a type of surface plant but I've never seen one in the books I have. Tell me you know a lot about plants. Druids know plants, right?"

Halsin had to chuckle at that. "You could say that," he mused as he peered at the silver handle. Dayan held out the knife, intending for Halsin to take it to look closer, but the consort bent to bring it to his eyesight, but did not reach out to touch or take. He knew better. It was already risky enough talking to the drow guardsman.

"Those are roses," he said with a genuine smile as he gazed upon the beautifully carved petals. "A type of climbing vine -- here, see these lines denoting the vine wrapping around the base? And here, these are the leaves...this the thorns...the blooming roses are the nicest part, in my opinion." Halsin met Dayan's eyes, his brows raised in surprise.

"Where did you find such a thing? Depictions of surface flora are not at all common down here, unless stolen from above."

Dayan hummed in thought, and then shrugged. "Perhaps it is from the surface," he said. "I don't know, I took it off a corpse decades ago."

"A corpse!" Halsin gave a teasing laugh, bumping Dayan's shoulder with his own. "Of course, I don't know why I expected a different answer." After a beat, he met Dayan's eyes. "Stolen or not, old or not -- it is a weapon you're not allowed. You're playing dangerous games to bring it out this close to the manor, my friend."

Dayan nodded, smiling ruefully. Halsin was not wrong, he was playing with fire. Although it wasn't exactly like he thought...

Dayan grasped the handle over the carved roses and pulled it out of the sheath, holding it up for the consort to inspect the blade.

Halsin flinched and drew back involuntarily, even though he had once admitted he trusted Dayan more than his Mistress. But, well, learned lessons are hard to break; especially when they have been so painfully taught.

Dayan winced and lowered the knife. "I'm sorry," he whispered sincerely. Halsin relaxed, shaking his head with a chagrined look.

"No, no. You're fine. I apologize for my reaction."

Dayan didn't say anything, just pursed his lips briefly, his stomach hurting for some reason -- and then put his attention on the knife in his hand. The blade was rusted nearly through and broken at the tip. They could both see it was nearly as blunt as a butter knife.

"I made sure it wasn't dangerous before I decided to show you."

He remembered the look in Halsin's eyes as they traced the fine carving work of the swirling vines and plump leaves, and the pretty roses that looked to be lightly brushed with a shiny red paint. Almost entirely faded, but when it caught the low glowing light of a nearby sussar tree, it shimmered in a soft pink.

Halsin's gaze had turned almost as soft as he looked at it, and Dayan wondered if he was remembering the last roses he'd seen. It would have been a long time ago. They didn't grow in the Underdark.

He bit his bottom lip in hesitation as he re-sheathed the knife; and then in a bold, abrupt move he reached out for Halsin's hand as it hovered uncertainly around his chest, fingers lightly grasping the silken toga he'd been allowed to wear that day. Dayan slowly took it in his, waiting for the other to balk and yank it free, but the moment never came. Halsin just looked down at him with briefly wide eyes, his cheeks warming. He felt the larger elf's fingers twitch as if wanting to squeeze them around Dayan's own.

Dayan realized this was the first time they'd touched hands.

"I want you to have this," the drow said, placing the object in Halsin’s palm and wrapping his fingers around the knife handle. He saw the consort was about to protest, but he quickly interrupted. "Please. In truth, I kept it to give to someone...important to me," he murmured. "But then he..." He paused, looked away. "Well, he's not here anymore. But now I have you," he added, more brightly.

Dayan didn’t realize what that might have sounded like, rushing to get through his impromptu, embarrassing speech, but Halsin certainly did. The flush on his cheek spread to the tips of his ears and he dipped his head, his long graceful mane falling to hide his reddened face.

"A thing like this is wasted on me," Dayan continued in a rush, oblivious. "I've never even seen a picture of a rose. They're pretty, if this is accurate," he admitted. "But I can't appreciate them like someone who knows what they are can. Like you can."

Dayan looked down at the knife. "Roses don't exist down here, but -- here they do,” he tapped the handle with a finger. "Maybe this can be a comfort? I don't know. I hope it can be."

Halsin found it hard to respond. "Why would you...want to do this for me...?" he asked softly, more softly than he'd ever spoken to Dayan before. There was confusion in his voice, hoarse with unbidden emotion.

"I just -- you're not --" He paused and then had to let go of Halsin's hand. He couldn't look at him and say this at the same time. The wood elf squeezed the knife tight.

"You're not meant to be here," Dayan said softly. "I don't mean like slaves shouldn't be here." His eyes darted to the wood elf's face, then away. "I mean -- you aren't meant to be here, Halsin." He hurried on, embarrassed, sure he sounded like a madman.

"I don't know why I say it. It's just...something I feel." He was silent for a beat, then glanced around the garden and leaned closer to Halsin, voice barely a whisper and words quick, as if afraid of speaking what he wanted to aloud. "When I sleep--we drow don't often trance, you know," he said, though he suspected Halsin must have learned this by now. "It's more nightmares than memories. I try to just sleep, not meditate. But sometimes I still will...and sometimes when I do, I see Lady Silverhair between the nightmares. I think she told me."

Halsin's brow wrinkled and he opened his mouth to ask, but Dayan cut him off. He didn't have time to explain that particular curiosity right now.

"Memories are cherished things for your kin, right? I read that somewhere. They ground surface elves to your history, where you came from. But sometimes...memories are just pain, especially when you're--"

He paused, then murmured quietly. "Especially when they're all you have."

"They're not real roses," he continued, "but it's something tangible you can touch that reminds you they exist. Not just a memory of them. And sometimes that's nice to have, I think."

Dayan glanced up at the manor and blanched -- the replacement guard was just barely visible around the corner. He rose quickly, before Halsin could speak and quickly tucked the knife deep in a fold of his toga, where it couldn't be seen. He didn't dare look at Halsin's face, didn't dare meet those eyes or let his own drift over those lips he dreamed about. He paused before fleeing, only a second, and touched the wood elf's shoulder.

"You will see roses again, I swear it," he whispered. And then he ran.

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"...Someone pressed it into my tunic at one of your...parties, Mistress. I do not remember who."

There had been so many parties lately; the Matron's House had just conquered an enemy, razed the family's manor and everything inside to the ground. A conquest of a particularly fruitful land to the Lady's coffers. She'd been throwing lavish events to show her power and celebrate. Halsin had featured as a particularly sought-after entertainment at most of them.

"I wished to find them, to thank them, but they must have left before I could. And then I was...I was afraid to tell you," his words wavered, stammering a little to sell his fear, but not overmuch. "I just kept it, growing more and more afraid to reveal my deception. I shouldn't have, I know. Please forgive me, Mistress, please--"

"I know this pattern on the handle," she interrupted, fingertips tracing the flowering vines on the knife. Halsin blinked in confusion -- sometimes it was hard to follow his Mistress's mind. "These are roses, are they not? A beautiful blossom that is said to contain dangerous thorns beneath its petals. Some are believed to be as long as a man's hand."

She turned her face to him, looking down her elegant nose at her currently-favored consort. "Is that what you are, Halsin?”

He shivered. The Mistress so rarely used his name, it always made him uncomfortable to hear it on her tongue.

“A rose sent to me from afar, with thorns hiding just under your lovely petals? Perhaps one day you'll wrap your vines around my neck and run back to your accursed sun, mmh?"

"No! I swear it, Mistress. I am here because of your..." It was hard to get the words out; no matter how technically true they were, the meaning was drenched in painful irony.

"...Generosity and kindness, after all. I would never hurt you! And I do not want to be anywhere else," he said and inwardly winced at such a boldfaced lie. He shouldn't have said that, she wouldn't believe him. Nobody would.

"I am yours, only. Let me prove it to you, as you so often like," he added, his voice dropping, tone turning as sultry as flowing silk.

She only crooked one arched brow upward and he felt the back of his neck begin to sweat. He was saying all the wrong things, being all the wrong things. But all he could think about was Dayan's words, his eyes -- such a pretty violet shade, like gemstones, standing out starkly against all the crimson that stared at him daily. He couldn't betray him, he wouldn’t.

Halsin's mind whirled; in truth she knew his aching desire to return to the forest and flowers and sun. Sometimes she brought up the idea just to force him to deny the truth of his soul; sometimes she looked at him with sad eyes and stroked his hair and whispered apologies they both knew she didn't mean. She enjoyed soft words and hot tears on his cheeks -- perhaps the pity made her feel powerful.

Perhaps she just enjoyed watching him hurt.

"I..." He exhaled a long, hard breath and looked down at the floor. His knees were starting to ache, the chill seeping into his bones, despite his natural warmth. It couldn't ever keep the cold that radiated out of every stone away for long. "The roses do hold thorns, yes," he said miserably. "But it's only protection. My thorns were...worn away by your careful hands long ago, Mistress. I only wanted a memory of home. Just a small one."

It seemed his gamble had paid off; the Matron's eyes warmed and she slowly bent, a hand reaching to touch his face. To rub her thumb over the wetness in the dark hollows below his eyes. Halsin almost instinctively nuzzled into her hand -- she smiled, and he knew he had done well, he had made the right choice, said the right words. She approved of his weakness, at least for now.

"My sweetling, I wish there was a way I could make you understand that this is home, now. You only hurt yourself in your longing." He nodded, like a good boy, chastised so gently by her words.

"Lovely bear," his Mistress almost purred. "Perhaps I will have one of my surface raids procure an enchanted rose that cannot die and does not need the sun. I'll keep it in my bedchamber, mmh? And you can gaze upon the pretty thing whenever you wish."

The idea was abhorrent, of course, like everything else she ever offered him; but Halsin gave her a watery, weak smile.

"Perhaps," was all he said, and it turned his stomach to say that much. But the woman was satisfied and she nodded, giving his cheek a condescending pat and rising to her full height. She did so love to tower over him when she could. He hoped it signaled this farce was almost over.

But then she opened her mouth to speak again and he froze; he'd forgotten, he realized.

Her moods were so mercurial.

"However," she said, haughty, and Halsin felt his blood run cold. "If you do not or cannot tell me who gave this to you -- if your memory is so unreliable…" she trailed off, her eyes sharp – and Halsin knew he’d saved himself from nothing.

"Then you will still need to be punished, my dear." She sighed, folding her hands together.

"You know you cannot accept gifts from anyone but myself, without my permission. Nothing, without my permission!" She snapped. "You didn't tell anyone, and you kept this hidden. You made a choice. You know better."

Halsin had to keep his teeth from gritting, loathing how she so often spoke to him like a child. He might play into it to keep her wrath at bay, but he didn't like it. He fought not to glance over at Dayan, the drow's presence like a thorn in the back of his mind. It didn't matter, though. He wouldn't betray him; and he couldn't blame him. The gift had brought him happiness since that meeting, however fleeting.

"It is not a transgression that requires me to lose my favorite bear however," the Matron added and Halsin's face relaxed a little, though the tension remained in his shoulders. He did not look up at her, keeping his head lowered and his hands folded in his lap. He watched the chains from his shackles settle over his knees and shimmer in the low light. He felt his back bend unconsciously, as his body tried to fold in and make himself smaller.

He heard, rather than saw, the sound of a blade against leather, but dared not look up until she demanded it. But out of the periphery he spied her hand drop, and one of her wicked-looking daggers was gripped tightly in it. His face blanched but he kept himself from shaking, just barely.

The Matron lifted the dagger, sweeping the point of it across the room at her servant swords, eyes narrowing as she studied their faces. Most of them were looking at her, expressions either carefully blank, subtly wary, or eager.

Perhaps one of them, then -- eager was interesting, sometimes, but messy. Wary was often boring, so relieved to not be the victim they punished with more fervor than necessary. Dull and expected. Blank was efficient, at leas--

Wait. The Matron stopped, her eyes narrowing even more, as one face was very blatantly, and with some difficulty, avoiding her gaze.

Oh, cowardice. Cowardice was always fun.

"You!" she snapped, pointing at the anonymous drow guardsman. She didn't know his name, but who cares, really?

Dayan felt all the blood drain out of his face.

"Me?!" he said, his voice high and tight, and instantly knew that had been the wrong thing to say. He glanced at Halsin, seeing the wood elf's shoulders tighten at hearing his voice.

"Y-Yes, Matron," he added quickly and walked to her, trying to keep his hands from shaking. She held out the knife, and watched him stop and stare at it a moment before she sighed in irritation and gave it a shake.

"Are you simple, boy? Take it!" she hissed and Dayan quickly did as she asked, the blade feeling awkward and unfamiliar in his grasp. He knew it would be sharp though; sharp enough to ease through a throat with the lightest touch. But she'd said Halsin wasn't to be killed. Perhaps just cut? He didn't know if he could...

He saw the consort actually risk a look up, meeting Dayan's eyes. Halsin's were wide, but not in accusation, but empathy. He understood and was telling Dayan without words he needed to stop hesitating before he was gutted for insubordination. Dayan shifted his grip, trying to look calm and collected and nodded at her. He walked over to Halsin, trying to avoid looking into his eyes directly once he got close. The last thing he wanted is for the Matron to suspect there was any connection there.

His chest burned; like a hot iron brand pressed to the flesh...no, not that. He knew what that was like. This was so much worse.

But yet, he didn't let his hands shake.

Dayan stood next to the kneeling wood elf, careful not to step on the long ruddy-brown tresses pooled about his legs.

"Where shall I begin, Matron?" he asked, his voice wavering only a little bit.

Her deep ruby eyes roamed over Halsin's servile form. And then she smiled.

Dayan felt something squeeze his heart in its iron grip.

"His hair," she said simply. "Cut it off. All of it."

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"What?!" Halsin's head snapped up, his eyes wide. "You can't!" The change was instantaneous -- where there had been a calm, restrained consort awaiting punishment without fear, now sat a frantic, terrified wood elf, already half to his feet. "Mistress, please, -- you can't, please!"

The Matron's eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed dangerously. She took a step towards Halsin. "Did you just speak against me, darthiir?!"

His hands went to clutch at her spider-silk skirt and she balked, unsure how to react for a moment, taken aback by Halsin's sudden panic. She gripped his wrists to pry his hands off her; the servants around them were rousing, confused and anxious, looking from one to another, wondering if they should step in.

"Please, don't do this my lady! I'll do anything! I'll take any punishment, hot irons, whipping. I'll entertain a thousand of your guests, I'll live with my head buried between your thighs, please!” Halsin’s voice was more afraid than Dayan had ever heard it, words stammering out, falling over each other as he begged without shame. “Oak father as my witness, I will do anything!!" His eyes were wide and white at the edges, like a wild animal about to bolt. He rose to full height and immediately half a dozen guards surged forward. He gripped her hands, tears in his eyes, ignoring or perhaps unseeing the drow moving towards him.

"Talthara, please," he half-sobbed, and the Matron's eyes widened. She slapped him then, hard, her nightstone ring cutting deep into his cheek.

"How dare you!" she spat. "You are not allowed to speak so familiarly with me in the audience chamber!Bind his arms!" She watched as her guardsmen pried Halsin's hands off her skirts, pinning him down while he howled in fear and rage, and bound his arms behind him with a heavy chain.

Dayan wasn't one of them. The dagger was no longer in his hand. He wanted to help, he wanted to jump on the others and tear them away from Halsin, take the dagger and stab it through the bitch's heart, grab the wood elf and run.

But where? There was only cold stone and unforgiving darkness. But he couldn't let this happen. He couldn't--

"What are you waiting for?" the Matron snapped and Dayan realized she was talking to him. She eyed the weapon on the ground. "I am in no mood for games, boy. Pick up the thrice-damned dagger and do it!

Dayan's daydreams evaporated into smoke and ash; if he tried to free the wood elf, do anything but what she demanded, Halsin would suffer for it. And it'd be more than this, it'd be so much worse. He'd already done so much to him with his stupid gift, he couldn't put the druid's very life in danger.

He picked up the dagger, but his hands were shaking so much. Halsin was roaring like a wild beast, and his eyes kept flashing gold. A shimmer flickered over his skin, like lightning, and every time the runes on his collar would glow, white hot. Dayan could smell the elf's skin burning beneath it.

After it seemed he was going to continue fighting to change to his bear form, the guards began to beat him with fists and feet, so he'd quieten. Dayan's hands twitched to grab his scimitars; his vision was blurred, edged in white. Something felt hot in his head, and warm wetness covered his cheeks.

He actually felt himself start to lurch forward, a hand moving to his weapon of its own accord, but a grip on his arm stopped him. One of his fellow house swords -- he gave Dayan a quick shake of the head. The drow gritted his teeth in grief and anger and turned back, but did not move again.

Betrayer. That's what he truly was. He'd caused this. He doubted Halsin would ever forgive him.

Halsin finally collapsed, bloodied but alive, and docile as a lamb as all the fight in him evaporated. He lay limply, sobbing softly to himself, and didn't look up when Dayan came closer. The drow raised the dagger, watching those powerful, broad shoulders shake, and then stepped back and dropped his hand to his side.

"...I can't," he whispered. The Matron stepped up to him and grabbed him by the hair -- she was at least half a head taller than him. She yanked his head back painfully.

"Say it again. I want to be sure I heard you correctly, jaluk," she snarled and Dayan gritted his teeth.

"My lady, look at him! He's in tears, I, I can't..." He swallowed, then set his jaw firmly. "I won't."

She didn't even take a moment of consideration. With more strength than he thought she would have, she shoved him into the waiting arms of two of his fellow guardsmen. They'd traded amusing stories just a night ago, he thought idly. But they grabbed him without hesitation, held him painfully tight, arms wrenched so far behind his back his shoulders creaked.

"Twenty lashes," she told them dispassionately. "Rub rock salt into the wounds. Then fifteen more. A cell afterwards."

Halsin didn't raise his head as Dayan was dragged from the chamber. He didn't raise it when the Matron straddled him, dagger in hand, one of her sharp stiletto heels spearing into his back as she bent down and grabbed his hair in a fist. "These men are all the damned same," she spat. "Weak and soft and pathetic."

The last thing Dayan heard before being pulled back into the dark, was a knife slicing cleanly through hair, undercut every so often with a ragged, broken sob.

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

When Halsin rose that morning, his hair tickled his heels. He ran to tell grandfather; he'd begun to grow it out because it delighted the old elf so. Reminded him of the olden days, he said, when he himself was a young elf in High Forest. It was somewhat old fashioned by the time Halsin was old enough to know how he wanted his hair, but he still liked it. He liked it the most when grandfather ran a wooden comb through the length and braided it for him while telling him the story of his life.

The day it tickled his heels had been the day his grandfather's body decided it was time to return to the earth. He'd cut a long, long strand from his head and his father wound it around grandfather's hands, clasped together on his chest. Halsin did the same for his father, when it was his turn to reside in High Forest; and then his mother, and brothers and sisters after.

He'd laughed when the girls had taken his hair in hand at the summer festival and twined it in elaborate braids for fun. They pulled him to them by the braids cheekily, one by one, and kissed him until he was breathless and they were breathless and their entwined bodies spilled to the woven mats below. Drunk on Winterfest wine that tasted sweet against his lips, he kissed the boy beneath him as he begged for the braid to be unbound; to let it pool over their bodies as they made love. Afterwards the boy smiled softly in the moonlight, blue eyes aglow, and nuzzled into the nest of Halsin’s hair before settling against his chest and counting their shared heartbeats.

Netashe would tease him from below his window, ask him to let the long tresses flow down like a princess in a storybook. They'd gather it up in clever fingers and kiss those waves until he was red-faced and stammering, and tease him more. They'd taken a lock of it bound in green ribbon with them when they left to see the world. It was what inspired him to make his own journey.

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

Halsin lay on the cold chamber floor, his voice lost to tears, his mind lost to the warm haze of memories

His neck felt cold, the goosebumps prickling along his bruised arms. They bade him rise, jabbed him with the butt of their spears when he didn't. He finally managed to drag himself to his feet, eyes cast away so he didn't have to see his kin, his history, his life cut from him and left on the floor for someone to sweep up and burn.

"What do I do with this?" someone asked as he was escorted from the room.

"Ugh, get rid of it. Ugly thing," someone else said. "Who keeps an old rusted knife, anyway?"

He was never going home. He knew that now. No one was coming for him, and now he'd been cut from the only thread to his life under the sun, as easily as if the Matron had cut his throat. A part of him wished she had.

He was going to stay hers, until she tired of him, or needed to use him for some advantage, and then he'd be sacrificed to their vile goddess. Enemies could come and kill him in the night, the collar keeping him from defending himself. Or one of the Matron's daughters would succeed and he'd be quietly gotten rid of -- sold to another House or offered to one of the lower city brothels, perhaps.

No matter what, he was going to die down here, away from the forest and the sun and Thaniel. All the colors of his world would be taken from him, one by one -- sunlight yellow and sky blue and rose red and violet eyes like gemstones.

There was nothing else left, now, but the memories. Intangible to the touch, unreachable and torturous. But they were all he had. Dayan had been wrong.

But Silvanus save him, Halsin so desperately wished he'd been right.

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

#bg3 fanfic #halsin silverbough #drow tav #halsin #halsin fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #lolth sworn drow #seldarine drow

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jknerd · 8 months

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NIMH AU: Mrs. Brisby

Full Name: Elizabeth Brisby

Species: Human->Im-Human (through influence of the Stone)

Age: 31~32

Gender: Female

Other Names: Mrs. Brisby, Lady Brisby, Eliza, Brisby Widow

Occupations: Seamstress (former), Fitzgibbon’s tenant (former), Matriarch of Brisby House

Residence: Fitzgibbon’s tenant house (former), Jonathan Brisby’s Wheeled Manor (currently)

Family: Jonathan Brisby (first husband; deceased), Teresa Brisby (oldest daughter), Martin Brisby (oldest son), Timothy Brisby (younger son), Cynthia Brisby (younger daughter), Auntie Shrew (maternal aunt)

Relationships: Farmer Fitzgibbons (first benefactor; formerly), Beth Fitzgibbons (acquaintance), Billy Fitzgibbons (acquaintance), Drago “Dragon” Welker (acquaintance), Jeremy Crow (friend), Nicodemus (benefactor), Mr. Ages (acquaintance), Justin (love interest->eventually, a possible second husband), Sullivan (acquaintance), Jenner (acquaintance->adversary)

Likes: Mementos/Heirlooms from her husband, embroidery, cooking, arranging flowers, outdoor activities with children, Justin’s assistances/company

Dislikes: Height (former fear), her husband’s absence/death, being bothered by suitors, Timothy’s sickness, becoming a burden, Jenner’s touches/threats

Elizabeth Brisby, commonly known as Mrs. Brisby, is a mortal widow of heroic man Jonathan Brisby, mother of four children; Teresa, Martin, Timothy and Cynthia. Prior to the marriage, Elizabeth was a normal girl working in the Fitzgibbons’ farm, greatly afraid of men as they usually approach her with indecent intentions, until she came across injured man named Jonathan Brisby. She brought him to her home and tended his wound. When he recovers to see her for the first time, he fell in love and a year later, they got married. He taught her how to read and write when she confessed she was illiterate. Through years, they had four children. However, when Cynthia was just a toddler, Jonathan Brisby fell to his death in midst of battle with his enemy, found dead in arms of Virgin Mary’s statue.

It was revealed her and their children’s existence was kept secret from his allies; “the humans of NIMH”, except their leader Nicodemus. She was also left with the will by her husband; all his wealth, inheritance and possessions passed down to Elizabeth and their children, which allowed them to stay in a house Jonathan prepared before his death. Despite immense inheritance, Elizabeth kept it intact for the future of her children as she insist to work as a seamstress. At one point, Elizabeth visited her husband’s friend Mr. Ages as her son Timothy fell severely ill. Initially diagnosed with pneumonia, both noticed Timothy’s erratic breathing, avoiding the sunlight and become sensitive without his mother’s presence. Mr. Ages concluded this as the first stage of congenital stage of “IM-mutation” and suggested she need to move her house along with her husband’s allies to the new “bund of NIMH” where it was located in Thorn Valley.

Not knowing of “IM-humans”, Elizabeth decided to ask for solution to Nicodemus as she journeys to where his people resides. Much to her surprise, the house her late husband has left was able to move with the hidden wheels and technology manifested with magic. At the old bund surrounded by rose bushes, she encountered one of the “IM-humans”, Justin, the guards’ captain. She recognized familiar faces from her husband’s funeral, especially Jenner, who is against with the “Thorn Valley Bund plan”. Meeting up with Nicodemus, she discovers the “IM-humans” were artificially created vampires through experiments of NIMH who were able to conquer sunlight, and Jonathan was one of them; hence why her children will inherit their father’s longevity in life and slow aging process, along with Timothy becoming just like him. However, the condition is that until Timothy’s symptoms are gone, he must avoid the sunlight for a while. She was surprised to learn that Drago Welker, the community guard and alleged murderer of Jonathan, was not responsible for his death and was warned to beware of the ones who approach her with dark motives. Lastly Nicodemus has given her the ruby necklace, the stone Jonathan left for her. While staying with the IM-humans of NIMH, Elizabeth develops a close bond with Justin who becomes a father figure to her four children.

However, in order for the “Thorn Valley Bund” plan to work, someone must drug Drago Welker to have their moving undetected. Elizabeth volunteers, much to dismay of Justin. But, she insists as she was told with directions by him and Dr. Ages; she must lure the community guard to drink the drugged beverage. As Mr. Ages and Justin as the two men would be assisting Nicodemus in moving the bund. Elizabeth recalled the “honey trap” female Im-Humans used to trick, so she decided to lure Drago with its method and successfully does so before she overheard Fitzgibbons discussed about calling NIMH (National Institute of Mystic Health) to hunt down “harmful vampires”. Alarmed, Elizabeth rushed back to witness her house immobilized and was abducted by Jenner. She learns that Jenner was the one responsible for it and killed Nicodemus, horrified of his intentions to take over Jonathan’s inheritance, possessions, and his widow to himself. In a brief moment of solitude, she told guilt-stricken Sullivan about NIMH as he successfully send the message to Justin. Learning of this betrayal, Jenner injured Sullivan and was about to rape Elizabeth, but stopped by Justin who came in time to save her. Elizabeth was seen watching in horror when Sullivan successfully gave a final blow at Jenner who fell to his death in a fountain below the statue of Virgin Mary, the same location her husband died. When the immobilized house of Brisby was about to fall, Elizabeth did not hesitate to shield her children from falling debris, but the light from the Stone formed a protective field sparing their lives.

Waking up, she found Timothy missing and frantically looked for him until she found him outside, completely healed and conquered the sunlight. In tears of joy, Elizabeth and her children hugged Timothy as the boy was spared from further pain of illness. Days later, as all her children wish to travel with their father’s wheeled manor that has later rebuilt, Elizabeth gave Justin the Stone as a promise to meet again. Witnessing the wrinkles and white streaks of hair rejuvenated, Justin smiled as there were implications she won’t grow old as normal human and they would meet again.

#The Secret of NIMH #The Secret of NIMH AU #Mrs. Brisby #Elizabeth Brisby #humanized #Mrs. Brisby and Bund of NIMH #Mrs. Brisby and Bund of NIMH AU

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violetjedisylveon · 1 month

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Yuze (FFM demon monkey OC)

Yuze is Ma and Wukong's mom! She's going to be in the next chapter and she's kinda important overall because she's Wukong's mom and hangs out with Nuwa so she'll be there when that meeting happens.

Her favorite kinds of fruits are sun dried fruits, other than that she doesn't really have a specific favorite. She enjoys her kids bickering over what's better, peaches or raspberries. She does have a least favorite and that's bananas.

This is her when Wukong and Ma were younger, around the time the wind brought Liu'er to FFM. She looks different by the time she died, more grays, but otherwise the same.

She still called Wukong "Shí Hóu" when he became the monkey king and after he got the name Sun Wukong, it's more of an affectionate nickname than anything else, and it gets the response of saying a full name when she's mad. She also called him Táo huā, peach blossom, cause when she first met him, he kept trying to eat peach flowers.

Nuwa and Yuze's relationship is very fun to play with because Nuwa did not know about Wukong until well after he was hatched and being raised by Yuze, so she thought he didn't need her, how wrong she was, she eventually got her act together (after much verbal smack from Yuze and the Wind).

Wukong and Nuwa have a rough, complicated relationship, but it's better than it has been.

I also thought I'd go over the differences between demon monkeys and celestial/stone monkey so and some other stuff about demon monkeys.

It's a little long so I put it under the cut.

Shadowpeach Family AU Masterpost

First difference is the face markings, demon monkeys don't have full face masks like celestial/stone monkeys do, they just have markings around their eyes.

The shape of markings indicate where they are from, FFM monkeys have more flower shaped markings. Color can also help but the shape is more important to location.

Demon monkeys are also much shorter than celestial monkeys. 4'5" to 5' is the general height range, rarely do they get to 5'1". Wukong is 5'1", Macaque is 5'4", cause short king Wukong is funny.

Demon monkeys, like rhesus macaques, are matriarchal. They highly value good parenting and being able to protect and provide for the troop, cubs especially.

Most of the leaders of the FFM troop (and demon monkey troops in general) are demon monkeys with a lot of experience raising and/or protect their troop, cause they're matriarchal most of them are female presenting. Demon monkeys don't care what you present your gender as, they just care if you help the troop.

Wukong finding a safe, secure shelter for the troop to live in and retreat to if there's trouble and his ability to protect the troop really well, he became the Monkey King even though he's male presenting (he's trans🏳️‍⚧️) and mentally a young teenager at the time is because he's so good at protecting and providing for the troop, and most of the decisions he makes are made with the in put from the other demon monkey leaders.most of them, he didn't consult them for any of his havoc in heavy or brotherhood nonsense, most of the demon monkeys stayed away from the brotherhood.

Demon monkeys generally wear looser clothing that only really covers their more private parts, they don't need to wear much more because of their fur, the main exception is Ma and Xuěhuā because they are albino and need more protection from the sun.

Thanks for reading this if you came this far!

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silverphoenixflame · 7 months

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Rottmnt Fic Recs

I have put the focus character(s) in parenthesis after the fic. Some fics contain heavy subject matter; be sure to mind the individual fic tags.

it’s only fraud if you get caught by tacit_semantics (Donnie & Mikey)

Rhythm Battle (Remix) by CringePhase (Donnie & April)

Baron Draxum is Not a Good Wingman by CupidsAroAce (Draxum & April)

Creation of a Philospher's Stone by IgnisCanis (Draxum)

The Super Special Secret Recipe Splinter Hot Chocolate: Raph Gets His Hot Choccy by Jinx72 (Raph & Splinter)

Seeing Red by catatonicatnap (Raph)

You Are Not Alone by JustMakeLeftTurns (Raph & Donnie & Leo & Mikey)

Continued under the read more.

Pre-series:

Choose Wisely (Or At All) by Cutesy (Mikey)

The Hunt for Pizzasaurus Rex by DanzinoraSwitch (Donnie)

Loved and Lost by aslitheryprinx (April)

Memory of a Meeting by Drifting_Andromeda (Lou Jitsu & Tang Shen)

《 until then, matriarch 》 by chiangyorange (Karai)

Reconcile by McGoogleheim (Shō)

Tsuchigumo by RussianSunflower3 (Big Mama)

Post-movie:

Wanting, Getting, Needing by Jupiter_Daydreams (Ensemble)

imaginary wars by 14Muffinz (Draxum & Turtles)

Another Man’s Poison by WhatTheVoid (Mikey)

Right Now Is Real (MLTS Part 2) by azucar_skull (Raph)

to blame by MagicalSpaceDragon (Leo & Casey Sr.)

I Want Nothing At All (But I Want You) by Kitsch_s (Casey Sr., Capril)

Girls' Night by SibillaScribbles08 (April, April/Sunita)

Slipping Through My Fingers (All the Time) by tei_to_tei (April)

The Mutterings of all your Fears by Acewithapaintbrush (Donnie & April)

Truce by Bubbly_Kandy (Kendra, Pre-Donnie/Kendra)

Tech Advancements by AuroreChaton (Kendra, Pre-Donnie/Kendra)

An Alien Invasion Happened but That’s Not Really What This is About by SibillaScribbles08 (Jason)

Apocalypse Timeline:

One quiet night (one thousand four hundred and sixty one to go) by storminormin (Leo & Casey Jr.)

blink and it’s gone (and it’s not coming back) by iooiu (Leo)

Willow Tree March by stardustcoral (Leo)

rocks fall, everyone dies by Tenka (Donnie)

These Are The Nights by Srae13 (Raph)

AUs

In which fate stains by Udbsken (Ensemble, Soulmark AU)

no, you can’t apologise for the never-ending drama by 14Muffinz (April, Human Splinter AU)

keeping the wolf from the door by naivesilver (Yoshi, Human AU)

Recluse by GriffinStone (Leo, Separated AU)

How Far Dwells the Sun From the Moon? by NewFallenLeaves (Leo & Donnie, Five Nights at Freddy's: Security Breach fusion)

Ice Veins by CharmyWizard (Leo & Big Mama, Avatar: The Last Airbender fusion)

#rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt fic rec

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ravensilversea · 10 months

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I'll Tell You How the Sun Rose

Title: I'll Tell You How the Sun Rose

Author: Raven_Silversea

Rating: T

Pairing: Colonnello & Aloy, background Colonnello/Lal Mirch/Reborn

Prompt: Reincarnation AU / Oblivious Flirting

Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Nora!Colonnello, set during Horizon: Zero Dawn, Post- The City of the Sun Quest, Pre- Into the Borderlands Quest

“You could go back, you know,” Aloy says in the middle of looting a supply chest. “I mean,” she gestures at the bodies and destroyed machines all around them, “the killers are dead, you avenged your brother, and I bet Sona and Teersa will support your return-”

“I have people I’m looking for, kora,” Colonnello cuts her off. He tosses a broken arrow to the side and pulls another, still intact, one from the next body to add to his collection. Jumping down from the quarry ledge to the wooden platform Aloy’s crouched on, he splits his arrow collection in half and passes some to her. “I would have left years ago, but the Matriarchs wouldn’t give me the Seeker’s Mark, even though I won the Proving.”

Aloy frowns. “I thought you could ask for anything.” She does a cursory wipe of the arrows to remove any wet blood before slotting them into her quiver.

Colonnello snorts as he haphazardly throws his own arrows into the quiver on his back. He’ll clean and organize them better next time they make camp, so there’s no reason for Aloy to glare at him like that, especially since she’ll also have to clean her arrows later. “Yeah, well, you’re not supposed to ask for leave to come and go from the Sacred Lands, kora.” He about-turns and starts walking towards the quarry exit, and the scrambling of boots against stone tell him that Aloy’s following.

“So…” she drawls. “What did you get as your boon?”

Ao3

Colonnello sighs, looking up to the blue afternoon sky and beseeching a dead god for patience. “I settled for changing my name and getting a post on the border.”

“Bet the Matriarches took that well.”

“Ha! They hated it almost as much as my mother did.” If his brother hadn’t been her favorite child before that day, he certainly was after. Not that Colonnello blames her for it. He’s always been a shitty son, and this is now the second life running he’s left his mother grieving while he fucks off into danger to run away from his own grief.

Aloy brushes past him and does a running leap to the first handhold. The sunlight gleams off her red hair, and her smile almost puts its brightness to shame. She’s so goddamn young, and his brother was too. Too young to hold all of Teersa’s hopes on her shoulders and far too young to die.

His climb up the handholds and ledges is slower than hers, which she always takes a moment to tease him about. “Do I need to slow down for you, old man?” she asks from above him with a grin.

“I’ll show you who’s old,” he grumbles and hauls himself up and over the last ledge out of the quarry. He’s not old. He’s nowhere near old. Twenty is nothing compared to being a hundred despite being physically fifty. Just because she’s sixteen and wandering around with only one set of memories doesn’t make him old.

Well, he thinks as Aloy runs up to their Strider and does minor repairs on it before slinging her packs over it’s rear end already to get going and do the next thing. Maybe he is a bit old.

“One of these days, kora,” he says, mounting up behind her on the horse-like machine, “I am going to introduce you to the concept of a siesta.”

Aloy laughs. “You keep saying that and have yet to do it.”

“It hasn’t been ‘one of these days’ yet, kora.”

Aloy waits days to ask who he’s looking for, and Colonnello’s honestly a bit surprised she waited that long. She doesn’t exactly have tact and does have a desire to know everything about everything.

The campfire crackles as Colonnello rotates the rabbits he’s cooking for their dinner, and somewhere in the distance, a Longleg blasts something. Probably a fox. Maybe some poor fool who got too close to the machine herd.

Aloy shifts so that she’s sitting directly across from him, which makes it hard to ignore her expectant expression.

He sighs and sits back against the rock behind him. How does he even explain that he’s looking for people he’s known most of his life but also never met? People who are long dead and possibly not even born, or born and don’t remember him? The stars and Milky Way above him give Colonnello no answers.

“Were they taken in the Red Raids?” Aloy asks quietly, already seeming to brace herself for his answer. She’s heard enough people’s stories at this point, Colonnello supposes it’s only to be expected that she starts there. Still…

“No. Well, maybe, kora. I don’t know.” He jabs the poker stick into the fire and nudges the logs until one’s back begins to crumble off. Pulling out the stick, he shoves the glowing tip into the dirt to extinguish it. “They aren’t Nora.” At least, he doesn’t think they’re Nora. Even without their memories, he’s pretty confident he would have recognized them.

At least… God, he hopes he would.

Aloy’s brow furrows. “Then how… you’ve never left the Sacred Lands.”

“Until now, yep.” Colonnello tests the rabbits, determines they’re cooked, and tosses one to Aloy. “It’s… complicated.”

“Complicated as in Rules of the Nora complicated or complicated as in why you know so much about the Old Ones complicated.”

Colonnello gapes at her, even as Aloy takes a large bite of her rabbit and raises her eyebrow. She’s sharper than a tack, he can’t deny that no matter how much he grumbles about it. “Viper would skin me alive for dropping enough hints for you to pick up on that, kora,” he mutters. Aloy grins.

Colonnello takes a bite of rabbit and chews it thoughtfully. “The second one,” he wags his pointer finger downwards in the air like he was picking a gameshow answer. “I knew them Before. In my last life.”

Aloy’s eyebrows climb so high, they almost get lost in her hairline. “Your what.”

“My last life. What part wasn’t I clear about, kora?” Colonnello says with a broad, teasing grin. “I have memories of the Old World when I was an ‘Old One’.” He fingerquotes, and Aloy screws up her face in confusion when he does.

She gestures at the air. “What was that? Why did you do that?”

“Oh it’s an Old Ones thing. You wouldn’t understand, kora.” He takes another bite of his dinner while Aloy makes a teakettle noise of frustration.

He spends the rest of the meal explaining different idiosyncrasies of the Old World before there were machines and when the ruins were actually towering buildings people lived and worked in. But as they climb into their bedrolls, Colonnello knows Aloy isn’t done with their initial conversation. She’s far too nosy to be.

He’s right, of course. Aloy brings it up again one night while they’re riding along the road, right after they’ve outrun a herd of Chargers who took them going past as a challenge for about five miles. “You love her, whoever you’re looking for,” Aloy says.

Colonnello watches the last Charger disappear from the horizon behind them and turns back around. They literally spent most of the day sitting in a small cave waiting out a sandstorm, and she waits until now to ask. “Them. I love both of them, kora,” he whispers.

Aloy’s quiet for a moment. Colonnello isn’t surprised. While there are a few polyamorous partnerships amongst the Nora, she’s spent maybe a week amongst the tribe itself and most of that was spent helping in the immediate aftermath of the Proving. It’ll take her a moment to add the concept into her worldview, but only because she never considered it before. While she does, he looks over her shoulder to the road ahead, trying to draw centuries old constellations in the new starfield again.

“What were they like?”

Fuck, how to describe them? How to encapsulate all that is Reborn and Lal into a few short sentences when they were two of the Strongest Seven with reputations to match?

He settles on, “He was an asshole, and she could kick my ass,” to start.

Aloy bursts out laughing. “Sounds like my kind of people.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” Lal would absolutely adore Aloy. She’s the right kind of scrappy and smart that would make Lal want to take her right under her wing. Reborn would take those same qualities as a challenge, and he’d spent every waking moment trying to trip her up and make her even better than she already was. All in all, Aloy was scary now? The earth itself would quake beneath her feet after those two were done with her, and Colonnello wishes he could see it.

“Both of them were terrifying teachers, but they wanted their students to be their best. Reborn was just more willing to drag the more useless-appearing ones to greatness while Lal had a more sink or swim mentality.”

“Got personal experience with that one?” Aloy smirks over her shoulder, barely visible in the moonlight.

Colonnello chuckles. “It’s how I met Lal. I was assigned to her squad, and she ran me over with a tank- uh, those square-ish ruins with a canon we see along the road sometimes.”

“She ran you over with one of those?”

“Hey now! I lived didn’t I?”

Aloy gives him a squint-eyed look that says so much about what she thinks of that. She mutters something about it breaking his self-preservation a whole lifetime later, but he can’t quite make it out.

“Reborn was my best friend,” he continues. “Dramatic to the extreme, loved tormenting his students and seeing them shake in their boots, but he would have killed anyone who tried to touch a hair on their heads.” He trails off. “I’d be more worried about any Carja who tried to drag them off during the Red Raids then them to be honest. They were two of the strongest people in the world, and everyone knew it, kora.”

“Now you’re exaggerating.”

Colonnello shakes his head with a smile, but there’s no real explaining the I Prescelti Sette and the Arcobaleno Curse, much less his role in it. At least, not right now. Instead, he fills the night with stories about Reborn and Lal, both their accomplishments and their most embarrassing failures, as well as how they all ended up together. Just glossing over the curse and mafia aspects of it all.

They arrive at Meridian in the gray hours just before dawn. A man is waiting for them at the gates and introduces himself as Blameless Marad with a closed-lipped smile and knowing eyes, and Colonnello immediately pegs him as a spy. Unlike Viper, who had carried themselves with a disinterested air that allowed them to slide into the background unless you were willing to buy the information they had, Marad clearly wants them to know he has information and is not afraid to use it. It makes him dangerous.

Colonnello rests his hand on the hilt of the knife he keeps on his hip. Marad’s eyes follow the motion before cutting back up to smirk at Colonnello. “The Sun-King requests your presence, Aloy and Colonnello of the Nora,” he says. “If you would follow me?”

Marad leads them through the early morning bustle of the city, merchants and tradesmen only just beginning to set up their tables while guards conduct a shift change. The palace is separated from the city proper by a long bridge, and then by seemingly endless stairs dotted with Carja nobles also seeking an audience with the Sun-King.

Twisting her head at every noble they pass, Aloy’s eyes clearly track up and down the fine clothing, accessories, and distinct lack of weaponry. Their escort skillfully redirects her attention to their ascent with quiet lectures about the history and architecture of the palace while Colonnello pointedly glares at every noble who mutters something about rising early every morning for days and the “Nora savages” getting to skip the line. He may be able to restraint himself from picking a fight, but Aloy’s only sixteen and has the short temper to go with it.

It doesn’t stop Marad from dryly catching Colonnello’s eye when Colonnello starts tapping his fingers against his knife hilt.

They climb the last stairs and turn towards a balcony. The view is primarily blocked by a large metal-carved throne facing out over the city, and Colonnello has to respect the dedication to the view despite the security hazard. But then again, it’s not like any of the tribes have developed (or dug up any) snipe rifles yet, and arrows only go so far.

Three figures step out from the shadows of the throne. The first, a bare-chested man save for an open-robe and a large metal-and-machine-part necklace, wearing a geometric headpiece. Presumably, he’s the Sun-King. He greets them with a bright smile. The second is Erend, who pulls Aloy into a tight hug.

The third… It’s the tilt of his head that gives him away, and Colonnello is moving, brushing past the Sun-King mid-sentence, and wrapping his arms around the shadowed man just as dawn breaks over the mesa. Arms wrap around him in return as he breathes in the new but familiar scent of resin instead of gunpowder, oasis and desert instead of coffee, and sunlight which has somehow stayed the same.

Colonnello pulls back to look into the same gunmetal colored eyes he remembers and says, almost breathes it feels like, “Where the fuck have you been, kora?”

Reborn huffs. His stupid curly sideburns have also the journey from one life to the next, and Colonnello wants to pull them just to see them bounce again. “Right here, idiota,” Reborn says before leaning in and kissing Colonnello.

It burns like the morning sun against the cold desert night, and Colonnello wraps his fingers in the curls on the back of Reborn’s head, pulling him closer as if to soak up all the rays and embed the feeling of this one kiss into his bones. Because last life, he had almost forgotten this feeling, up on that cold mountain with Lal and the other soldiers and endless swarm of machines and no idea if Reborn was still out there somewhere while the apocalypse rained down upon the world.

Reborn’s the one to break the kiss, leaving them both panting. The bastard smirks down at him, carefully untangles Colonnello’s fingers from his hair, and pulls away. “So,” he says, “When did you adopt a kid?”

#khr #khr/hzd #khrrarepairweek2023 #colonnello #aloy #raven's pen

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tanjirou-no-au · 1 year

Text

A collected assortment of KNY AU ideas (Hardly a combined continuity,):

Rui as the Oyakata, with his “family” being his mom, the Stone Hashira who she married, his “sister” being an Insect/Spider Breather and personal physician, and his “brother” being a Thunder Breather and “Father’s” Ex-Tsugoku.

Mitsuri and Hakuji being the Slayer-Demon duo. It’s all about the Pink Hair. Rengoku finds them, of course.

Amane Himorogi as a Hashira. I envision her as wielding some offshoot of Water or Wind Breathing (Or something that combines both, like Snow Breathing) and in charge of something like the Butterfly Estate.

Kagaya as a Wind Slayer who manages to attain a Slayer Mark! ...Which leads to an early death at 23.

Alternatively, the Kamados being the Butterfly Estate equivalent, with the deceased Sun Hashira Tanjuro, the current Matriarch and Tree Hashira Kie, their younger children and helpers, and their two Slayer aged children, Tanjiro & Nezuko.

Leading from that, Tanjiro as the Aoi figure, either lacking his canon determination, or having been injured relatively early in the game, and instead becoming a medic and caretaker.

#KNY #KNY AU #Misc AU stash #Rui #Kanroji Mitsuri #Akaza #Ubuyashiki Amane #Ubuyashiki Kagaya #Kamado Kie #Kamado Tanjuro #Kamado Tanjiro #Kamado Nezuko

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undyingembers · 1 year

Note

Oh wow I have to hear more about the Mass Effect AU!! 👀

Yes! Here it is. Most of it takes place after the Reaper Wars, after the galaxy has more or less re-established the Council and its various societies.

Len and his/her family are all asari. Despite not being a pureblood, Len somehow became an ardat-yaakshi, an asari who is unable to perform the melding without overwhelming their partner's nervous system and doing them harm. While Len's strain isn't lethal (s/he can safely meld with someone if they space it out about once every month or so, but if s/he does it too often with one person, they run the risk of living with permanent brain damage, a lobotomized existence), by asari law, s/he had to stay at the temple with the other ardat-yaakshi.

When the temple got attacked during the Reaper Wars, Len managed to escape and was presumed dead. Having come from a long line of matriarchs who became justicars and received top combat training, combined with his/her combat experience during the Reaper Wars and his/her ardat-yaakshi and powerful biotic powers, s/he was able to find success starting his/her own mercenary company called "the Justices" alongside Sabine (an old washed-up krogan wrestler), Lann (a vorscha sniper), and Woljif (a rare quarian biotic whose mother somehow got exposed to element zero on the engine she was working on).

(Side note, Len's other "parent" is a turian, as was his/her "grandfather" and (supposedly) "great-grandfather". It's a running joke that each member of the Scaeva family will only produce children with the hardest and most stone-faced turian general they can get their hands on. Len's great-grandmother Moraenia Scaeva was a justicar legend, and stories still speak of her epic battle against the ardat-yaakshi Dyrghaena, though if you are familiar with Len's canon backstory, you might guess that something more complicated happened with that that might have led to Moraenia's entire line susceptible to breeding ardat-yaakshi).

(Other side note: Len's birth name is Leonosa in this AU. Though s/he still feels attachment to that name s/he also goes by Lenarius, a turian masculine name. S/he develops a very complicated relationship with gender having seen how other races experience it. For practical reasons (namely, not wanting to be found by his/her justicar mother), Len almost always introduces him/herself as Lenarius.)

At some point after the Reaper War ends, Lenarius gets landed on Palaven, the turian homeworld. Len's mother had caught wind that Len might be alive and on Palaven. In order to avoid a diplomatic incident with the turians, Thessia used its connections to lock down the space port where Len was at until they could find him/her. Len reaches out to his/her old army contact Galfrey for help, but she cannot get him off world, but she suggests that her cousin Daeran might be of help, as he is sometimes said to smuggle substances, entertainments, and mercs for his own amusement.

Daeran is a very unusual turian. Everything turians care about--honor, duty, and military service--Daeran scoffs at. When Daeran was still in-utero, he and a bunch of other turian fetuses were exposed to element zero in an effort to put these kids in special turian biotic units. Sadly, Daeran didn't care for that at all. Even more unfortunately, Daeran was the only kid who ended up developing biotic potential. When it was time for him to enlist in the turian army, his mother had just died. The turian army gave him only twelve hours to grieve. Daeran decided it would be much easier instead to hack the recruitment office to make it seem that he was being placed on a different world and then spent his mandatory service time partying it up on Illium, Omega, and other unsavory places (Daeran is a Sentinel, a biotic and a hacker). The turian army is really pissed off at him. "Tens of thousands of credits and ten pounds of eezo down the drain," turian generals say of him. (There's also an incident where the head of a turian military academy insulted Daeran one to many times; Daeran responded by hacking into that academy's database and replacing classified documents with hanar and elcor porn.)

So anyway, Len reaches out to Daeran and asks if he can smuggle him/her and his/her merc company off of Palaven. Daeran agrees if Len would help him with a mission. Len does so, and Daeran arranges for a smuggler to take Len and his/her crew off world. Len is impressed with the way Daeran handled himself on that mission and offers Daeran a spot in his/her company. Despite Daeran's very close interest he develops for Len, he declines. However, just as the Justices are about to leave, Daeran catches up to them. The turian army just discovered (with or without help from Galfrey) Daeran's desertion from the draft and are super pissed off about it and Daeran needs to get off world until this can all be sorted out. Len is appalled, but s/he helps Daeran make a hasty escape.

(Side note about Daeran: Daeran didn't lift a single finger to fight in the Reaper Wars. He spent his whole time throwing parties and doing what he pleased. "After all, the world is ending, and I do not fancy myself meeting an ignoble death on some planet crushed under a colossus's foot.")

The Justices build a reputation of not only effectiveness, but of having a spotless record when it comes to the law and civilian casualties. They will not accept a contract that makes them do illegal activities, and they will not take a civilian life, and they will not do business with known criminals. Having morals as a merc is very risky, but there are clients out there who want to be above reproach and want to know that their own hands won't get dirty when they hire mercenaries. One such client is the new human Councilor Salvadore Arrigo. Salvadore is a human politician who also served in the Reaper Wars, and was able to occupy Udina's now vacant seat on the Council. He is a very frequent client for the Justices, and calls on them either for bodyguard work or to protect his interests across the galaxy.

Len very rarely deals with clients personally, preferring to use Daeran as a middleman, but Salvadore is such and important and impressive client that s/he makes an exception for him/her. People who don't know who the leader of the Justices is assume that s/he is a turian. Salvadore is quite surprised that the person he's had regular contact with turns out to be an asari. The two meet at a very fancy gentleman's bar and hit it off right away due to their elegance, intelligence, and refinement. Salvadore decides he wants to pursue something with Lenarius.

There are a few snags, however, the biggest one being that Len has already started something with Daeran. While that relationship hasn't been settled yet, Len is very loyal and will not just drop a partner. This turns into a very bitter, if short-lived rivalry between Sal and Daeran over Len's heart. Sal is very resentful towards Daeran, particularly as it seems that Daeran isn't taking Lenarius's heart seriously. Daeran, for his part, is super amused and never misses a chance to rile up this handsome Councilor in not so subtly flirty ways. Their rivalry comes to a head when the two of them have a private talk somewhere. That talk almost ends badly, with each of them furious at various things the other says. However, in that talk, Daeran opens up about his insecurities about not being able to love Len the way Len deserves and how in another lifetime, if Sal had met Len first, Sal would be the one with Len. Daeran and Sal both admit that if the two of them had met, perhaps they would be together instead. They both admit to having a mutual interest in each other as well as Len, and Daeran suggests that the three of them go out to a restaurant on the Presidium. Sal makes the reservations, and Lenarius agrees to go with Daeran to meet Sal on that date.

Another snag in their relationship is the fact that Len is an ardat-yaakshi. Daeran wasn't the only one to keep Len at arm's length. Len was also freaking out about starting a relationship with anyone, knowing that his/her partner would notice that s/he wasn't trying to mind meld with them. Also, as an ardat-yaakshi, Len is wanted by the asari governments, and they will most certainly want to either capture or kill him/her if they ever found out.

Of course, Sal and Daeran eventually find out. Not much about ardat-yaakshi is known outside of asari space. Daeran is sympathetic to what Len has gone through and agrees that they should keep Len away from the asari (though he also sneers at any ardat-yaakshi who chooses life in the temple over death or freedom). I'm not sure how Sal reacts at first, but at some point he is outraged that Len cannot stand openly by his side and wants to do something about it.

The idea that Len and Sal come up with is for Sal to nominate Len as a Spectre. As a Spectre, Len would be above asari law and only answer to the Council. Len is a powerful biotic and a formidable fighter who has done a lot of work for Sal and the Council already. Giving Len Spectre status is only an extension of that. The asari Councilor is very against it. Not only is Len an ardat-yaakshi, and therefore belong in the temple, the asari know that Len's mother is a justicar, and asari justicars operate outside the laws as well. The justicars would not accept the Council's decision, and it would cause a major diplomatic incident if they went after a Spectre. Despite the protests, Sal gets the support of the other Councilors to get Len tested for a Spectre position.

Len gets an assignment from the Council, supervised by one of their Spectres. It is a difficult and delicate mission, but one that Len would be expected to complete. Unfortunately, Len's mother Lodetta does not respect the Council's decision and decides to go after Len on this test. The complication makes the assignment brutal, and Lodetta nearly gets Len killed. The whole thing is a harrowing experience for Sal and Daeran, who for the longest time think Len might be dead. However, Len manages to escape the situation with the objective complete and gains his/her Spectre status.

The three of them celebrate by bringing Len to one of Thessia's major cities, where s/he can openly walk the streets. Lodetta and the other justicars will still want to either kill Len or lock him/her up, but they can no longer rely on the asari government for help. Len also wants to use his/her newfound freedom and power to gain freedom and rights for other ardat-yaakshi.

***

I would like to give thanks and credit to @dmagedgoods for letting me include their OC Salvadore and for the very intense roleplaying sessions with this AU. It was a lot of fun, and Sal is very wonderful, as always.

#thank you so much for this ask!#lenarius #lenariusxdaeran #lenarius x salvadore #daeranxlenariusxsalvadore #mass effect #dujour13 #dmagedgoods

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quitealotofsodapop · 6 days

Note

How does the Wukongverse gang feel about the stone matriarch au updates? Do they still keep in touch with each other?

-💜(@fruit-fight)

The Wukongverse isn't a linear au/story, so they just hang out whenever.

That being said, if Dawn/LMK!SWK experiences the Stone Matriarch au and all that it implies...

Dasheng: "Oh hey, you've been busy-" Dawn, thousand-yard stare: "There used to be more of us. There used to be a troupe of Stone Monkeys on Mount Huaguo, and their last Matriarch was out mother." Rest of the monkeys: "...wut" ( 0_0) Dawn: "They were wiped out in the Great Flood when the Heavenly Pillar broke. When my mother thought that she had lost her mate, she deliberately buried herself to form the Stone Egg that would become me." Cherry: "The boulder is our mom!?" Other Monkeys: "Shush!" Ace: "While these plot twists are so very entertaining, can we see some evidence?" Dawn: *quietly reveals Luzhen, fast asleep in a papoose* The Other Monkeys: "!!!" Dawn: "My mother's mate didn't die in the flood, but had become trapped beneath the mountain. He too made a Stone Egg." Starfruit, confused: "He looks exactly like you, man!" Smokey, calculating "Well since mates naturally share dao.. then that would make him our-" Shihou, bounces up excited: "WE HAVE A LITTLE BROTHER!" Sugar, worried: "But what if *ours* is still stuck under the mountain?" All the SWKs: "..." All the SWKs:

They leave the meeting room deserted within seconds.

Some of their respective LEMs come running too while others are super confused/worried.

Dusk/LMK!LEM just wanders in, checks on Luzhen to make sure the baby wasn't scared by all the noise, and comments:

Dusk: "Wow. You didn't even touch the fact that Guanyin is your mother's reincarnation." The LEMs, all-hearing: "SHE'S/THEY'RE WHAT?!

Lots of chaos ensues across the multiverse as the differnt monkeys try to figure out what parts of the Stone Matriarch story fits their worlds.

The ones who manage to unearth their version of Luzhen clutch the newborn Stone Monkey tight, sobbing at the joy of finding another of their kind.

#stone matriarch au #stone monkeys #wukongverse #lmk #lmk aus #lego monkie kid #sun wukong #crossovers #monkey king hero is back #monkey king reborn #new gods nezha reborn #meihouwang #journey to the west legends of the monkey king #the monkey king netflix #the monkey king 2023 #smash legends

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mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune · 1 year

Photo

Helluva Boss OC: Thora The Nymph (2023)

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Credit for Helluva Boss goes to Vivziepop

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Nymphs are technically Imps (at least in a Fanon Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel AU), but they can turn themselves invisible, shape shift into trees or flowers, and can even change their appearance to look like either a human or Imp.

Nymphs are born with Amethyst Horns and their wings are ethereal.

Nymphs live in the mortal realm where the humans are, and they mostly live in nature, but modern Nymphs of today do use technology but magic and nature hybrid version of it.

unlike the Imps from the Wrath Ring and Other parts of the Rings of Hell...

Nymphs are all born female, so even if a Nymph were to have a relationship with a Cherub or Imp, the offspring would always be born female.

like how the Asari from Mass Effect, the Race of the Asari are all Mono-gender, and Male or Female have no real meaning among them.

but the Asari still use she/her pronouns and have daughters, sisters and mothers among them, but it is possible for a Asari to go by he/him pronouns and I think there could be some who could just go by they/them.

Liara T’Soni does call one of her Mothers, by Father, because that is what Matriarch Aethyta is, she is Liara’s Father, so like if there was a crossover of Mass Effect & Vandread, I guess Aethyta would technically be viewed as Liara’s Ohma and Matriarch Benezia would be the Fama.

and if a partner of a Asari is of the female of a different alien race, and some of those partners end up being human, and there was a Asari from Mass Effect 2, who had a male human bond-mate.

so anyway Thora and the rest of the Nymphs like her, are all mono-gender.

and I guess it would be interesting if they were a bit more like the Asari, like being able to have children with any gender no matter if they are human, angel or demon.

but the offspring would still be born biologically a girl.

even if Thora and other Nymphs are able to turn invisible, the only way someone can see her and other Nymphs when someone uses a holey hag stone.

Thora might have a strong distrusts for both Imps and Cherub, because of the imbalance that happen when humans had wrongly dethrone The Goddess.

but what she doesn’t know, is that the Imps and Cherubs of the modern times, don’t even know about The Goddess, and the injustice that happen a very very super long time ago...

Thora could also show a temper on her, like the idea is that if anyone takes The Goddess’s name in vain, she will react a little like Keenie...

but instead of a slap and a military like voice, Thora will grab the said person by their ear or horn, or whatever it might be, like if they don’t have a ear or horns but have some fur of hair or antennas on top of their head.

she will grab them and pull them away to give them a spanking, even if they are old enough not to get them anymore, and why she would punish them by spanking, I don’t know, it is just a type of what if Idea.

Thora and the Other Nymphs, could also live in the same forest as Fairies, Gremlins and other magical creatures.

it be interesting if the guardian of the forest was a white unicorn, which is like a horned horse, and everyone knows that.

like picture Blitzo wanting to ride a unicorn, but sadly he can’t because of certain rules that has to be followed.

a Unicorn will only let a Maiden ride them, meaning a virgin.

and since Blitz ain’t a virgin, he will not be allowed to ride a Unicorn, even if he really loves horses....he might have a death wish if he even tries to ride a unicorn though.

he might be able to ride a Unicorn’s polar opposite though,

I think that if Moxxie ever had studied about mythical creatures and looked up the info about Unicorns before, and why the Unicorn kicked Blitz away, Moxxie might end up laughing after remembering about the info he read before about Unicorns, and why the Unicorn wont let Blitz ride them.

it be interesting if they made a episode where the I.M.P go to Earth, but end up in the wrong place, and all of a sudden Blitz sees a horse, but not just any horse....a Unicorn, but every time he tries to get close to it or try to get on the Unicorn, it will either kick or buck him off and take off running.

and the episode could be about Blitz trying to ride the Unicorn, but in the end he finds out he will never be able to, because Unicorns only let virgins ride them.

so anyway in the forest that Thora lives at, there could be Unicorns and maybe even some Bicorn.

not sure if I will draw this OC again, I mean it is more like a fanon concept about if Nymphs were in Helluva Boss.

also please don’t reblog this without my permission.

if I decide to write a short fan fic story with Thora and other Nymphs, I will.

Nymphs, can also have blue, pink, purple and green skin.

#helluva boss oc #thora the nymph helluva boss oc #helluva boss fanart #nymph oc #not for kids

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digitalagepulao · 7 months

Text

Sun clan AU character directory

[this directory will be edited and updated as time goes on and the story progresses]

THE ELDERS: older generation, live on the deeper chambers of the Shuilian Mansion and enjoy the respect and honors by all the beings in Huaguoshan.

An-kong Tudigong (Grandpa Earth God)

Earth God of Huaguoshan, appears mostly as a moss-green furred orangutan but has many forms. Reclusive and reticent, but loves dearly all the beings living on his mountain. Adoptive father of Wukong.

A-ma Longan (Grandma Dragon-Eye)

Matriarch of a monkey troop, Francois Langur. Dry yet caring, often serves as a protector of the monkeys of the mountain and a middleman between spirits and mortal creatures. Her duties were mostly taken over by Wukong after he became king. Adoptive mother of Wukong.

I-bo Lanye (Auntie Orchid-leaves)

Granddaughter of Longan, and second in command, Silvery Lutung. Fond and overbearing, takes care of the troop whenever Longan leaves to maintain the peace. Biological mother of Jinju.

Shandanmao (Coral lily cat), also called Au-bo Shanhu (Stepmom Coral)

An asian golden cat who once attempted to eat Longan, and was made to atone for her attack on the mountain's Tudipo by serving as her bodyguard.

Wukong, also called Shihou (Stone Monkey) and Xiaoshi (Little pebble)

King of Huaguoshan. Rules over several troops that live on the mountain and shelter in the Water-Curtain Cave, and helps to keep the peace and balance among the creatures and demons.

THE FOUR STALWART MARSHALS: The Monkey King's trusted second-in-commands in the kingdom's hierarchy, and Wukong's closest confidants.

Liu Jinju (Golden-Orange)

Ma Yuehua (Moon-Flower)

Ba Hongteng (Red-vine)

Beng Maqaw (Mountain-pepper)

THE GOLDEN CAPTAINS: Trusted soldiers directly under the command of the Stalwart Marshals, but especially under Jinju/Marshal Liu

Songzhen (Pine-needles)

Second-oldest of the group, a laidback Ebony Javan Langur.

Suanguo (Sour-fruit)

The youngest and grumpiest of the bunch, a red-shanked douc.

EXTENDED FAMILY: Members of the sworn brothers' kingdoms who end up joining Huaguoshan in some manner.

Erwangzi Xiangjing (Second Prince Fine-Fragrance), also known as Prince Rougui (Cinnamon)

Wukong's mate and trusted friend, Cat Ba langur. One of the rescued monkeys from the Monstrous King of Havoc's lair, trusted advisor and cousin-in-law of Yurong Wang (Golden Snub-nosed Monkey King). Charming, eloquent and wise, but wears his heart right on his sleeve. After the two kings build an alliance, Xiangjing and Wukong become quite fond of each other, and after some failed courting attempts, Wukong accepts Xiangjing's affections.

Rinrin, also called Xiaohuo (Little fire)

Ranked sentry and scout, Rhesus Macaque demon. Once part of Niu Mowang's kingdom, she sought to earn further rank and merit by learning exorcism techniques to dispel minor demons who'd dwell on the edges of the mountains. She became emotionally attached to a human demon hunter, and when she left the mountain in shame, said human followed her. She earned the friendship of Wukong swiftly, which also earned her a spot in his court despite displeasing the Bull Demon.

Xiaojie Duan

Skilled demon hunter, human. While she's accomplished in exorcising and conquering demons and spirits, her true goal was to find someone she loved to settle down and raise a family with. What luck, that said person turned out to be a demon monkey in disguise! Not one to back down from her affections, she followed after Rinrin and together they settled in Huaguoshan.

THE SEVEN PRINCELINGS: Wukong's children by order of age.

Wumiao (Witch-sprout)

Adopted first daughter, fairy crane demon. Eternally youthful and ethereally beautiful lady. Often bears a feathered fan in her hand and a pinewood sword at her waist. Gentle and demure, adores her father and siblings. Head priestess of the Huaguoshan Daoist temple, and protectress of the Heavenly gate there.

Bailian (White-face)

The largest of the quintuplets, Bailian has snow-white pale skin no matter the season or weather, and fur like clouds at dusk. Despite being the firstborn son and the only one able to walk on clouds and water, Bailian has frail health and a sickly disposition, and thus seldom interacts with the world at large. His father and siblings tend to be overprotective due to this, much to his dismay.

Liangwei (Two-tails)

The second daughter, Liangwei has a head of golden fur and two prehensile tails. She has a cunning mind and a sharp tongue, always quick to reply and twist people into knots with her words. She enjoys entertaining guests and kindred with masterful poetry and rhymes, as much as others enjoy hearing her. Her eyesight is quite poor, and she often relies on Sanyan and her tails to help her find her way around.

Sanyan (Three-eyes)

Second-born son, with a somber and dry temperament. Though his appearance seems at first not to stand out against his more visibly magical siblings, Sanyan possesses a third eye often hidden in his fur when closed. It can see the true nature of all things, though what he knows he seldom shares. Sanyan is selectively mute, and communicates through sign language or by borrowing Liangwei's sharp tongue when she's around.

Shuashua (Playful):

Third son among the five, and by far the most energetic. Most well known as a never-still blur, Shuashua is nimble and covered in colorful stripes of fur and has a snub nose. He's known for never sleeping or ever seeming to rest at all, and spending most of his time with some activity or another. Not the sharpest tool in shed, but his bright and hard-working disposition more than makes up for it.

Si'er (Four-ears)

Third daughter, and by all measures the runt of the quintuplets. She has a calm and sweet disposition, but her particularity of having four calf-like ears and sensitive hearing often tends to put off the others of her family and kingdom. Reincarnation of [redacted], aware of past life. Deeply devoted daughter and sister, tries her best to right the wrongs of the past. Has terrible tinnitus and migraines that turns her physically monstruous. Keeper of the sealed temple of [redacted].

Danxia (Cinnabar Cloud)

Adopted fourth son, human. An orphan left in Wumiao's temple. Despite growing up surrounded by demons, immortals, and fairies, the boy had no contempt for his peers, instead striving to learn as much as he could to keep up with his siblings.

THE KING'S DISCIPLES: newcomers to Huaguoshan after the fire, brought in thanks to the pilgrimage west.

Xiaoyu (little fish), Congcong (verdant), Jiazao (hearth)

Three female macaques Wukong rescued from being stable monkeys, and have stuck to the group to cater to the artifacts and run minor errands. Trained in combat by Wukong, and later joined the mountain kingdom as warrior nuns and established a Buddhist temple.

#sun clan au #expedition to the west au #there is an overlap thus the tags

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llycaons · 1 year

Text

Section Three: Character

VII. A-xian is my didi: on jiang yanli

VIII. I still am: oh, lan wangji

IX. Let’s be brothers again: jiang cheng, you clown

VII. A-xian is my didi: on jiang yanli

*i would like to reach out my hand by DontStopRun

summary: a short jyl pov introspection on families. marriages, and arguments within them. quite tragic due to the nature of the jiang family, but insightful and worthwhile for her perspective on the family, which we don’t see as often as wwx and jc’s. I love her

work issues: none

author issues: none

*paḫḫur by sital

summary: the third work in a yiling matriarch jyl AU. we see snapshots from jyl’s childhood, her mother’s use of a mysterious technique on her, the massacre at lotus pier, and the aftermath. the writing style was intense and compelling, and I really love how this author maintained jyl’s canon personality while making her an interesting and rich pov character and protagonist

I spent most of this fic crying very gently….the lp massacre always hits me hard, and jyl thinking about her life/what she wants but thinks she’ll never have is also quite tragic. this series apparently has a happy yanqing ending, and you can see the subtext here for it. cql canon.

work issues: none

author issues: none

The Taming of the Resplendent Fowl by natcat5

summary: another work in the series that began with Stray Dog’s Parable (linked below). jyl pov during the sunshot campaign, in all its grittiness and violence. I loved her characterization here - very true to her canon personality and disability, while allowing her depth and treating her as a person who matters.

it also explores jzx’s character and flaws. his has his own pov, which is really fun since he’s not too bright and the politics happen around him without his full comprehension. quite a funny chapter. unfinished, but that’s fine

the handling of the political situation is fresh and interesting, but it tends to repetition and pretension. there’s a few annoying lines in the beginning that kind of girlbossify myu, but overall a great work for characterization. technically either canon, but it has a novel flavor

warnings for references to wartime rape of young teenagers, and societal misogyny

work issues: none

author issues: none

cloud lotuses by vanicanela

summary: this is about jyl grappling with the loss of her home, and the friendship blossoming between her and lwj in the days immediately following the defeat of the wens. I loved the character introspection as well as the relationship development. it was so rewarding to see her treated as a full character with her own internal life and goals

more novel characterizations, which is a bit weird since this scenario didn’t even happen in the novel, but you know what? I’ll take it

work issues: none

author issues: none

VIII. I still am: oh, lan wangji

An old kettle, a tiny teacup, and a new pot. by mondengel

summary: here’s lan qiren, desperately trying to keep his premature nephew alive immediately after his birth. this fic is very sweet, provided satisfyingly medically accurate information, and integrated canon-specific rites in a realistic way. and the relationship was so tenderly portrayed…he loves his nephew 🥺

work issues: none

author issues: going to be real this author has written almost 90 fics so I just checked their most-used tags and didn’t see anything but I can’t guarantee they’re completely fine

slipping secrets, skipping stones by LaivineNinuiel

summary: this is just lxc and lwj as young kids being very sweet together 🥺 they love each other

work issues: none

author issues: none

*another way to suffer by Justread0verandover

summary: I haven’t read this fic in a while but basically - what if nmj was lwj’s gay awakening? I thought it was pretty funny. cql canon, presumably

work issues: none

author issues: none

I exist as I am, that is enough by fantasmagorie

summary: immediately after wwx accidentally pulls off lwj’s headband in the novel, lwj stalks off and lxc goes to talk to him. this makes my heart feel like it’s being squeezed so tight, but in a good way. novel canon, but the emotion in it is so raw and the characterization is so compelling that I definitely suggest it for cql fans as well

work issues: none

author issues: none

*The Pursuit of Knowledge by Katalyna_Rose

summary: post-nightless, lwj tries to find erotica that he can enjoy in an effort to connect with his own sexuality and to feel closer to wwx. at a bit of a loss, he consults nhs. what follows is a genuinely quite beautiful and touching story about gay bonding, affirmation, and self-discovery. I like the writing style quite a lot, and I find the characterizations and dialogue to be natural and realistic. the discussion of kink, bdsm, and power-bottoming, using language that’s appropriate for the setting, is really fun too. novel-verse

unfortunately the wwx that crops up at the very end is so incredibly obnoxious that I pretend the work ends before he appears. how writers convey such beauty and subtlety with lwj and then cast wwx as a chaotic, whiny gremlin who shouts every line is beyond me

work issues: none

author issues: none

in wild plums and river willows by SnowshadowAO3

summary: post-nightless city, lwj wanders and grieves and sees visions of wwx throughout the years. this is quite a raw work with a lot of pain in it, but it’s also very cathartic and there are some very lovely scenes with other characters, like mianmian. novel canon

work issues: none

author issues: wrote something tagged ‘junior ot4’

Vanilla Twilight by toastpersona

summary: modern AU trans lwj ruminates on his identity and whether to come out to his longtime friend and roommate wwx. mature, gentle, and contemplative. pre-relationship. I wish this author had continued this series :/

work issues: none

author issues: none

*on a clear day… by LilyMaxwell

summary: a short, introspective work about lwj’s relationship with his traditional extended family and his childhood home. the tone and style are just lovely and the juxtaposition of his current self vs. the person he was when he was young is quite striking warning for implied, mild homophobia work issues: none author issues: wrote lwj/another character wyb played and tagged it ‘wyb/wyb’ please stop like that’s a real person

*Wanting by pringle slut

summary: postcanon, lwj realizes how much he wants to bottom and things go from there. I liked the setup and payoff of this a lot. let lwj get wrecked by his very powerful and sexy husband!!! I do think this is well-characterized and very loving and it’s nice to see lwj get taken care of for once and really enjoy it. verse rights

work issues: for a chance of pace, wwx is actually the one who gets a little possessive at one point lol. but it’s not even really creepy or anything? just relatively normal stuff I’d say

author issues: second fic in this series was fine (nb lwj!) but the last fic is tagged ‘consensual dubious consent’ which???

Looks Like Home by ChaoticAndrogynous

summary: years into being married, a drunk lwj confides that he still has some self-image problems about his back and wwx wants to help. not a smut fic, if you can believe it. I really loved the lwj in this, at turns demanding and affectionate. the romance was very sweet and the style was entrancing. either canon

work issues: none

author issues: cnc

untitled by brokke_inactive

summary: a character exploration work for lwj, from an autistic author. first half is lqr and lxc pov, who both love lwj a great deal but sometimes are frustrated or confused by his behavior. back half is lwj pov, snapshots from his adult life. I love an autistic lwj reading and this one is really well characterized I think. cql canon

check notes - lwj experiences sensory overload, and his family is well-meaning but ignorant

work issues: none

author issues: none

IX. Let’s be brothers again: jiang cheng, you clown

*water’s sweet but blood is thicker by fensandmarshes

summary: the shortest and highest quality reconciliation fic I’ve ever read - efficient and impactful. postcanon, a (drunk) wwx must confront his relationship with jc when jl and lsz call each other cousins. the writing in this is just excellent

wwx and jc are impressively characterized, but jl and lsz are also written so well, in a way that actually got me to care about lsz. their generation breaking the cycles of violence is efficiently and effectively explored compared to fics that treat them as plot devices for shipping or getting wx together. funny, sweet, and very emotional - it made me cry. cql verse

work issues: none

author issues: none

*all your sums and your pieces by sundiscus

summary: a nice little modern AU work where long-estranged jc and wwx come to an awkward reconciliation point over wwx adopting a-yuan. endorses the ‘jc is good with kids’ agenda, which I’m inexplicably fond of. also lwj is a museum curator in this, which I like a lot even if it’s just a throwaway line

work issues: none

author issues: has written fuck or die

the things you have to say by rkivees

summary: a short work on wwx and jc talking a little postcanon. this reconciliation is one of the few that doesn’t coddle jc or reward him for acting like an aggressive and immature dickhead, so I really liked their dynamic. wwx pushes back against jc’s treatment, points out how contradictory and irrational his demands are, and lays down boundaries, and their relationships improves because of it. wwx also has a very emotional aside thinking about and apologizing to his younger self that just ruins me. it’s a little hard to parse because of the style, but I really loved the characterizations

work issues: none

author issues: none

Stray Dog’s Parable by natcat5

summary: here’s jc immediately after the gc transfer growing himself a tiny, loyal disciple army in the worst possible conditions. raw, unglamorous, and intense, just as it would be in real life. this jc is responsible and a much better leader than I think of him in canon, so he’s quite compelling to read. the atmosphere and tone are incredibly rendered. firmly novel verse in later works (not in a bad way, just very dark), but for this one, it could be either canon

I read two of the next fics in this series, but I think this one was the best. the later works edge towards pretentiousness and repetitiveness, but this first one is tight and cleanly written.

work issues: none, and nothing in the next two works either. I haven’t read the last one but nothing jumped out when I was scanning the tags

author issues: none

*Like the Goddamn Hotel California by KiaraSayre

summary: a modern AU BM fix-it fic from jc’s pov about a curse that causes him to experience moments from songs on a playlist wwx had made in their childhood. goofy enough to veer into comedy, but it has some very nice family moments too, and I do love this jc (he is suffering) there are of course disclaimers: this jc is far more sensible and communicative than canon jc, and the idea of wwx listening to taylor swift pisses me off, but it’s a good time and a lot of fun anyway. and hey, happy ending

work issues: none

author issues: wrote something tagged ‘mildly dubious consent’ immediately followed by ‘enthusiastic consent’ so idk what’s going on there. something with…consensual mind-control? man idk

Cultivation Unsolved: The Unclean Realm Special by wearealltalesintheend

summary: a very funny modern cultivation au where jc is driving wwx and the juniors across the country (?) on a roadtrip, and they have to stay overnight at a very creepy hotel

apparently this was based on buzzfeed, but never having seen that I can only say this was a fun read that I could follow perfectly well

side note I don’t think the author cares about lwj at all because lxc was discussed more often he was even in relation to wwx, which is odd imo but quite funny

work issues: none

author issues: none

Back to Start || Section Four

#fic recs #ficblogging #recs-3

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rulanarinrush · 4 months

Text

hu/david fic. This a post ch2 au in which Hu snaps.

Sorry that words are censored, tumbIr shadowbans me otherwise. Fic below the cut due to sensitive content

Content warnings:

suic1de attempt mentions(Hu's secret?)

depression mention

child abus3

intrusive thoughts

+other disturbing themes

ao3 link . If you enjoy, leave a kudo on ao3 rather than tumblr. thanks!

When she thinks back to that day, a vioIent cutting sensation cuts through her– a bit like swallowing glass. Hu swallows. That’s not a new one.

That kind of thought, she means. She’s never been good at that kind of thing. Eloquence. No matter what was expected of her, she always somehow fell short– mathematics, English, painting, speaking; her paltry reward was always those damn tangerines, sour, as if having been plucked before the sweet tender sensation of life could set in, stinging her raw fingers, split and cut open from those strings, those goddamn strings, she played and plucked and wanted to shred those strings, take that wire that same one Nico used and wrap it around *** neck–

She swallows. No glass in there. Recovery would only set her back a couple of weeks. It is fine.

Hu can still care about David.

Like her grandmother taught her. Three quick, successive raps on the door. Be a lady. Stand still. Don’t buzz like a fly, for you are a butterfly. You are graceful.

You are forgiving.

No response. That’s to be expected. He’s useless, that darling.

(What is she, her mother? Goodness.)

But that’s alright. She takes a deep breath, calming herself. He could be a pathetic boy, like a puppy, his fingers lacerated and amputated down to the knuckles from her wires, stunted little dog paws, unable to perform without those wild hand gestures, as if it could distract from the evil inside him, and she would still love him.

He would never pull one over her again.

“MonoTV?” Hu calls out.

Speaking of dogs. Say the devil’s name and he will appear. “That’s me! Yes, indeed. Is there a particular reason such a lovely lady calls me?”

“Is it true that for the right amount of MonoCoins, you will perform any favor?”

***

The third time she woke up to walls of white and pastel turquoise, she thought,

This is really getting quite tiresome, isn’t it?

She never got the same nurse any of the times she’d been admitted. And each time, they gracefully ignored any of her attempts to talk.

Listen to me. Please.

(Encore! Encore! Play again, twenty-five times, fifty times a day, until you master the song, one-hundred songs, play your despair away.)

It was easier for them the third time. No need to pretend you can’t hear her if she can’t speak.

The night before she was discharged, she dreams.

(A recurring dream– she is on stage. There are silken strands dangling from her limbs. Everyone else. The house matriarch watches from the balcony, flanked by Hu’s mother and father. There is a peach in her hands, ripe to the point of obscenity. The venue is at maximum capacity. And everyone’s eyes are on her. On her fingers. There is a stone lodged in her throat and she can’t get it out. The first note. Her strings go taut, then snap. The peach falls, rolls to her feet. Its juices spill out, yellow at first, then black, then lucky vermillion, 红包, Hu thinks. Her older sister, helpless on her knees. She cuts herself picking up the strings. It cuts her fingers like glass. Hu opens her mouth so her sister can deposit the shards in her mouth. “Help me,” her sister gurgles. And Hu tries to say something, but her jaw is locked open.)

They gave her some antidepressants the following morning. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out, and all that.

***

Hu flicks the light switch on. She hears a groan under the covers, and for goodness sake, it’s nearly eleven in the morning! She’s well aware it has only been sixteen hours since the last execution, but it’s like grandma said, you can’t sit there and feel sorry for yourself, the day is wasting away with you!

It’s okay. Hu can feel sorry for him in his own place.

He shifts for a bit, and Hu watches as the reality of the situation sets in for David. “What the fuck?” he groans. He’s not as panicked as he should be. That’s good. She remembers being like that, accepting death whenever it would come. “How’d you get in here?”

“I paid MonoTV, darling.”

He groans again. She moves closer to his bedside. There are thick, dark circles under his eyes. Poor thing. She remembers being worried sick until she couldn’t sleep. The zither player can understand.

(My family has a history of depression.)

Yes, not a lie. A liar, certainly. But still, someone she could love. Someone she once could have trusted.

Oh well. After her secret was outed, he can probably put the pieces together.

“Are you here to kilI me?” David asks. He won’t look her in the eyes. That’s no good.

“No,” Hu answers simply. She runs her fingers through his dark, rich locks much like hers, watches as he shivers. “Shhh. I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Bullshit,” he spits out. “There’s no reason to break into someone’s fucking room if you didn’t intend to hurt me.”

“I suppose it could be interpreted as harm if your mind is set on it being so.”

He laughs, a low rumble. Is that contempt in his voice? That’s rich, coming from him. At least her intentions are pure.

He stops suddenly. “Get it over with.” She nods. He’s being good. Punctual, and to the point. Her grandma would yell, over and over again, because she was a foolish child, she just wouldn’t get it.

Hu hasn’t played nurse in a while. She remembers hating them. Funny how things worked.

“I can’t forgive you, but I really do care about all of us, even you. I mean that.”

She pulls the plastic bag with the pills out of her pocket. David’s eyes slowly widen. “Holy shit. You’re crazy.”

“It wouldn’t solve anything if I hurt you. That’s not how you or I learn anything. Now sit up, darling. It wouldn’t do for you to choke.”

“That’s a controlled substance. You really think this won’t hurt me?” He’s a little wild around the eyes now. Hu wonders if that’s what she looked like back then, de4d while still being alive as she was. “I regret ever telling you anything.”

“I’m giving you the regular dose, not fifty.” She lifts his bird-boned body up with ease using one hand, her hand balled up in his shirt. Doesn’t let go. “Calm down.”

“I’ve never been prescribed anything. MonoTv has one hell of an idea of dark secrets, if he thinks that was your secret.” He could scream. They’d hear him. She wonders if he’s too prideful. But they would understand. He needs help, and no one wants to help him right now. It’s just like Ace. She can take care of everyone. It’s her responsibility. “What if I have an adverse reaction? Forget hurting me, you’ll be execut3d.”

No mention of his own de4th at all. Ah, just like her!

“Are you allergic to anything?”

The inspirational speaker opens his mouth. He’s one second too slow.

“There you go.” Her other hand crushes the antidepressants into fine dust. De4d things, dreams. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” Hu confesses mournfully. “I really thought you’d be more cooperative, so I didn’t bring a glass of water with me…

“Open up.”

(Shards of glass, them both.)

“Fucking twisted.” He closes his eyes. Accepts de4th. “Fucking twisted, that’s what you are. This isn’t going to fix anything. You should know better than anyone that you can’t cure depression. The best this’ll do is keep me loopy for a few hours– your idea of saving people is so–”

“Avoiding a problem doesn’t make it go away.” His form goes rigid.

“Don’t I know,” Hu murmurs. “Don’t I know.”

She pushes the dust in his mouth. He gags on her long fingers, coated in medication. Hu kisses his reflexive tears gently. His skin is baby soft. Her mother would love that kind of thing. There was always something wrong with Hu.

That was such a risk. He could have bitten her fingers off. What would Hu be worth then?

Hu sniffs. Everything smells like tannins these days. Even his room. Better that than the smell of acetone, though. She’s grateful.

“When I said I couldn’t forgive you, I meant that. I’m sorry, what you’ve done is reprehensible.” Hu swallows. Glass shards, both of them. Wires laced around their necks. “But I do want to help you. I really, really do.”

ao3 link

#danganronpa despair time #drdt #huvid #hu jing #david chiem #r.rush fic archive

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