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kpophours · 4 years

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Summer Time

➵ The Boyz: Kevin x fem. reader / one shot, summer trip AU, college AU / fluff

➵ warnings: none

➵ word count: 2.6k

Gentle wind sweeps over you, and almost immediately, goosebumps rise all over your body. You just smile contently, and turn your head towards the sky, inhaling deeply and enjoying the soft sound of the waves. You taste the salt of the ocean on your lips when your tongue darts out to wet them. It’s already quite warm for late Spring, so you’re barefooted, able to bury your toes in the cool sand underneath your feet. You had been surprised yet pleased when Kevin had asked you to join him and some of his friends on a day trip to the beach, and being here now, you’re more than happy he did.

The day has been great so far - filled with lots of fun, laughter and sunshine, even though you were sadly unable to go swimming, the sea still being too cold to do so. So instead, you had resorted to basking in the sun, playing beach volleyball and building sand castles. Together with Jacob, you had spent almost an hour under the blindingly bright midday sun, searching for pretty seashells to take back to your dorm as a small souvenir. That was, until you had been interrupted by Younghoon’s horrified high-pitched screech when a seagull had suddenly decided to chase him. The tall boy had sprinted up and down the beach, trying to shake off the bird, and making you laugh until your belly hurt - thankfully, the seagull had finally decided to let him be, and simply flown off into the sky again.

Now that the sun has slowly begun to set, you’re all searching for driftwood, wanting to build a bonfire and to make some s’mores, something you’ve been really looking forward to. Kevin walks a few feet ahead of you, wearing a ridiculously big straw hat - which he still somehow makes work though -, and bending over from time to time to pick up another piece of driftwood, all while humming a soft, familiar tune under his breath. You can’t help but smile when you listen to his voice, and close your eyes for a few seconds while continuing to walk. When you open your eyes again, you squeal - Kevin has come to a sudden halt, and is now standing directly in front of you, his dark eyes softly boring into yours. He giggles at your surprised expression and playfully pinches your cheek. “Never walk with your eyes closed, silly. Knowing you, you’ll just stumble and probably hurt yourself.”, he says affectionately, and you blush and roll your eyes at him, but nod nevertheless. He is right, after all. “Can you take this back to the others? I’ll search for some more and will join you guys shortly.”, he then asks, and, after you nod again, drops some pieces of driftwood into your arms. You stagger under the weight, but give him a soft smile. He returns it, gives you a mock salute, and continues to tramp towards some sand dunes not too far away. You just sigh and turn around to walk back towards your little camp, joining the small group of Kevin’s friends again.

“Oh here, let me help you.”, Juyeon offers the second he spots you staggering towards him, and you thank him when he takes the driftwood out of your arms. “Y/N, come join me!”, Marie, Juyeon’s girlfriend, says, waving at you. You smile and fall down beside her, stretching your legs out in front of you and wiggling your toes. She smiles as well, and hands you a bottle of water. “You should drink something, you’ve been in the sun all day. I hope you put on enough sunscreen this morning!”, she says, and you chuckle. “Thanks, mom.”, you just say playfully, but her worried words actually warm your heart. You take the bottle from her, and she grins at you, before turning around to watch Juyeon stacking the driftwood, a dreamy expression crossing her face. Without wanting to, your eyes wander towards Kevin, who’s currently trying to climb one of the sand dunes, but almost failing to do so as the soft sand continues to slip away under his feet, making it almost impossible to walk on. You press your lips into a tight line to stifle a giggle, and jump when Marie suddenly pokes your side. “You like him, don’t you?”, she whispers, low enough so no one except you can hear it, and you shoot her a surprised look. Her face is open and inviting, eyes kind, but you just shrug, averting your eyes and taking some sand into your left hand, letting it run through your fingers - you don’t really like talking about your feelings, especially not with someone you’ve only just met. “He likes you too.”, Marie just says, and you whip your head around to face her again. She just winks at you and leans back on her elbows, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. “What makes you say that?”, you finally ask, and she chuckles. “I’ve known Kevin for a long time now. He’s never asked a girl to join one of our trips before, because he’s usually too shy to do so. That can only mean you are someone special to him.” You don’t answer and simply look back to watch Kevin, who has finally managed to climb up the sand dune and is now busy picking up some more driftwood. You gnaw on your lower lip, thinking about what Marie just said.

You and Kevin have gotten to know each other thanks to a shared class, both of you being enrolled at the same college. For some reason, he had chosen to sit beside you on the first day of said class, striking up a conversation and complimenting some of your doodles he had seen you draw into your notebook, showing you some of his own in return. Even on that first day, you had already noticed that talking to him was just... easy. And by now, you can’t deny that your heart always skips a beat when you see his small smile or hear his soft giggle. You’re also definitely thinking way too much about how it would feel like to run your fingers through his soft looking, dark hair. You truly like him and enjoy his company, and all his friends have been very nice and welcoming today too. But you yourself are too shy to say anything about this to him - you’re not brave enough to make the first move. Knowing Kevin though, he’s probably never going to make the first move either... You shake your head at that thought, sigh and empty your bottle of water, leaning back on your elbows and closing your eyes as well.

You must have nodded off, because the next thing you know is someone softly chuckling beside you, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face. You scrunch up your nose and slowly open your eyes, blinking a few times until Kevin comes into focus, sitting cross legged beside you and looking at you, amusement written all over his face. He grins when he sees your sleepy expression, and shakes his head in mock disappointment. “Unbelievable - everyone is working so hard for the bonfire and what are you doing? Taking a nap!”, he jokes, and you just stick out your tongue at him, before standing up to stretch and brush the sand off your clothes. Kevin jumps up as well, helping you get rid of the sand on the back of your shirt, his hand lingering a bit longer on the small of your back than necessary. You feel your whole body heat up under his touch, and quickly clear your throat, feeling a bit awkward, but giving your friend a shy smile nevertheless, which he immediately returns. He seems to be wanting to say something to you, but before he can do so, he gets interrupted by Hyunjae: “Does anyone know how to build a fire?” Everyone looks at one another, expression clueless and questioning, until you chuckle. “I can try, I was a scout once.”, you offer, deciding not to tell them that your scouting experience was not only very brief, but also quite some time ago.

You begin to build a cone-like structure with some small pieces of driftwood, Kevin standing beside you looking quite impressed by your skills while Hyunjae just observes you critically. “First of all, we need to use the smallest pieces of wood as kindling, then we can slowly add some bigger pieces to fuel the flames and afterwards, we can finally use the big logs you guys found.”, you explain after you’ve finished stacking the smaller pieces, taking the matches from Hyunjae and lighting one, carefully holding it to the kindling and patiently waiting for it to catch fire. Afterwards, you do exactly what you’ve just told the others, and soon, the bonfire is burning bright and high. “Our fiery queen.”, Jacob says, shooting you an angelic smile and giving you a high five, while Younghoon just stares at the flames, his big puppy eyes wide and round while his mouth hangs slightly open. “Bear Grylls is shaking right now.”, Kevin murmurs, and you just grin and playfully roll your eyes at him.

Suddenly, he slips his hand into yours to pull you with him towards some of the pillows Marie has placed on the ground around the fire pit to make sitting on the ground a bit more comfortable. As soon as you’ve sat down, Kevin lets go of your hand again, finally taking off his ridiculous straw hat and beginning to fiddle with it, probably trying to keep his hands busy. You’re both silent, but it’s a very comfortable silence, you don’t really feel the need to make conversation right now. Jacob has begun to strum his guitar and is playing a soft tune, while the others are talking in low voices. Juyeon and Marie are laying on their backs, staring into the sky - observing how its colors slowly shift from hues of purple and red to soft blues -, their hands intertwined, sharing secret smiles and giggles. Younghoon and Hyunjae are deep in conversation, the latter one’s loud laugh piercing the quiet atmosphere from time to time. You can’t help but smile while you observe the others, curling your toes into the cool sand.

“I- uhm, I just wanted to thank you for coming today, I truly had a great time with you.”, Kevin suddenly says, and you whip your head around to look at him. His eyes are trained on the straw hat in his hands, as if he’s afraid to look at you. Your lips twitch and you tilt your head to one side. “I’m glad you asked me to come. It was a fun day, your friends are really nice.”, you answer softly, and he finally looks up, locking eyes with you and giving you a relieved smile. “I’m happy you think so. I know meeting lots of new people can be a bit overwhelming sometimes, especially if you’re not really much of an extrovert.”, he says, and you nod in agreement, tucking your legs up to your chest and resting your chin on your knees. “Why did you ask me to come with you, by the way? I’ve been wondering, we only share one class and haven’t really hung out outside of it yet, and we only really talk via text…”, you drift off, biting your lower lip, and look at Kevin in anticipation. His gaze darts from you to the bonfire and back again, the flames softly illuminating his face. “I- uhm... I just… well, I think you are really… nice.”, he says, scratching his ear and ducking his head. You suppress a smile and raise both eyebrows. “I am nice?”, you can’t help but chuckle, and he laughs, a tad embarrassed by his own lame answer. “Well, I just… I like you. Every time we talk, I really enjoy it - you’re fun to talk to. So, I just wanted to get to know you better, I guess.”, he finally explains, apparently feeling a bit bolder now, and shrugs. You avert your eyes, a shy yet pleased smile gracing your lips. “I like you too.”, you mumble, and duck your head when you see a smile bloom on his face at your words. There’s the lightest of touches on your hand, and suddenly, Kevin intertwines his fingers with yours again. You look up, surprise written all over your face, and he gives you a soft smile which you return. “You want to take a little stroll?”, he asks, voice low, and you nod, letting yourself be pulled to your feet by him, your hand still securely held in his. The others don’t say anything, but you can feel their eyes following your every step - you decide to just ignore them for now.

Dusk has fully settled in by now and night is falling, the first stars already lazily twinkling down at you. Kevin gently swings your intertwined hands between your bodies and you grin, following him towards where the sea meets the land. The soft sound of the waves drowns out the sound of Jacob’s guitar as well as the laughter of the others, and it feels like you’re truly alone right now. Your heart begins to speed up, hammering fast inside your chest, and you feel your hands get clammy. You jump and yelp when one of the waves suddenly comes close enough to lap at your naked feet, the coolness of the water making you shiver. Kevin breaks into loud laughter at your shocked expression, and you shove him playfully. He loses his balance, falling onto his back and pulling you down with him. You land in a pile of scrambling arms and legs, giggling uncontrollably until suddenly, Kevin’s lips are on yours.

You inhale sharply, before you melt against him. He wraps his arms around your back to pull you even closer, while you push both hands into his dark hair - it feels just as silky as you’ve always imagined. After a few seconds, you pull back to catch your breath, staring down at Kevin, who’s looking at you with soft, dark eyes and a happy expression on his face. You break into a smile and nuzzle his nose, and he pulls you even closer, playfully kissing both your cheeks and nose before nipping on your lower lip. “I guess that’s one way of getting to know me better.”, you finally mumble, and he chuckles, pushing some of your hair back behind your left ear and nodding in agreement. “Absolutely. It might even be my favorite way, actually.” You can’t help but grin at his cheekiness, before diving in for another kiss. He just smiles against your lips and hums appreciatively.

Suddenly, there’s a yell coming from the bonfire: “Y/N, KEVIN, WE’RE MAKING S’MORES NOW! ARE YOU COMING OR SHOULD WE LEAVE YOU ALONE AND EAT ALL THE S’MORES WITHOUT YOU?” Before either of you can answer, there’s a slapping sound followed by a yelp, and a second later, Maria yells: “DON’T WORRY, HYUN IS JUST BEING STUPID, AS ALWAYS! WE WON’T EAT EVERYTHING, SO DON’T WORRY! JUST TAKE YOUR TIME AND COME BACK... WHENEVER!”

Kevin and you freeze for a few seconds, before you both break into loud laughter. You bury your face into his neck and he chuckles, one of his hands rubbing gentle circles against the small of your back. “Let’s stay here a little longer, before we join the others again.”, he murmurs, and you just nod in agreement, deeply inhaling the salty night air and Kevin’s unique scent.

For now, you’re just happy to be in his arms and to bask in the warmth of his body - the s’mores can definitely wait a bit longer.

[masterlist] | [requests]

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nightklok · 3 years

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Your thoughts about Pickles for the ask meme (or Nathan if he’s already been asked about)?

One of my newer asks asked about Pickles so let’s do Nate!

1) Uncommon headcanon about them I am deeply attached to.

Nathan having ADD...it’s just a wonderful headcanon to me because I was diagnosed with ADD/ADHD as a kid and I realize now that I do have ADHD-so Nathan can have ADD as a treat.

2) Widely-held headcanon about them that I reject.

I feel like the hot takes i have are regarding Nathan/Abigail but even then, it’s more of just hating how fandom treats them together. Hi, I know the show did butcher this badly but the same way people forget about Bookklok when shipping Skwis/tok, I can probably do the same or something-

I think the headcanon of Abigail being ‘too good’ for Nathan when he’s an autistic character and people headcanon Abigail as this ‘queen’ is just...ehh. I feel like this is some deep-rooted ableism because at that point, i don’t even think people like the ship because of the show. I think people just don’t wanna ship an independent woman with an autistic male character because those relationships clearly don’t exist in a healthy manner, right? I do like to think people just mean well and don’t take the autistic part into consideration but the same way fandom likes to bring the years of female tropes and such, please remember autistic people have suffered just as much in media. If anyone doesn’t ship Abigail/Nathan because of the show, writing, HC her as a lesbian, wanna say fuck you to Brendon for some reason, go wild!

3) What were they like as a kid? What was their early life like?

Nathan was definitely the quiet kid. He was always quiet even as a baby. He never really cried as often or made much of any sounds. His parents, bless their souls honestly, just assumed it was a part of who he was and didn’t look into it because he was an only child and generally firstborn autistic kids can end up being overlooked as there is no other kids to compare their growth to. While they were the best possible parents anyone could ask for, he does sometimes wish he got properly diagnosed.

Nathan’s shyness is often confused for kindness and it doesn’t help his mother would be THAT woman who’d bring cupcakes to class on his birthday so he actually had good friends who would include him in things :) He just had a relatively happy childhood, minus the fact his entire class was killed but he did get therapy for it because his parents are good people!! He did deal with some school bullies here and there but his father taught him how to fight and he surely showed his strength quickly enough to not be picked with. I do feel like after the murder of his classmates, he would’ve had a dark time where people were afraid to approach him seeing him as ‘bad luck’ sadly. But also, kids are kids and some kids like to be around bad luck so he never got to be truly lonely :D

4) Symbols/motifs that I associate with them–colors, animals, zodiac signs, mythic themes, imagery, objects, etc.

I really associate more of the darker colors with him, the colors in the deepest parts of the ocean where there is almost no light. Animals are definitely alligators for him but I do compare him to a teddy bear sometimes because he seems like a soft big bear!! I admit I haven’t thought much of zodiac signs for him but definitely one of the water signs. For Mythic themes/symbolism, definitely water. It’s dark and unforgiving but at the same it can be light and fun and a source of life. There is definitely symbolism of him being a water God I could go into forever! :O

5) Other characters or types of people I have in mind when I draw and/or write them.

Peter Steele...because...reasons...

And also George fisher :D his video of how he goes coupon hunting on target is super adorable and helped me shape Nathan in being more lovable!

6) What I project onto them when I draw and/or write them.

the autism and ADHD/ADD babey-

When I write Nathan, I kinda take some part of myself that I had buried long ago because people like me either sink or swim in the US education system and I was barely doing both- (3/10 do not recommend)-Nathan is just this person with a lot of love to give and has a hard time expressing it that isn’t in song! I guess I like to write characters in a self-projection way. How Nathan speaks, thinks and acts is something I try to write carefully in a non-offensive way and I feel like even using how I was as a kid probably is the best comparison though a lot more mature; absolutely fucking confused on what’s going on but there’s sometimes trips to McDonald’s so yay :D

7) A surprising hobby, interest, or phobia they have.

Nathan crochets!!! Yes this is my hobby/thing now because it’s such a relaxing hobby to get to do. The amount of projects you can make, the idea of Nathan’s big hands holding a small crochet needle is really cute, and the fact he can make so many projects for people is just really endearing :’). He will not let anyone know he made it though but it’s obvious he did and he will deny it-

I do think Nathan has a fear of connection in a sense. I feel like his relationship with Rebecca really affected him and made him fearful of dating for a while. It’s hard to be close to someone, especially if you end up attracting the wrong type of people. While Nathan got lucky finding nice women like Rachel, he was just afraid of something happening so he’d break things off quickly before he really got a chance to connect with them. Trindle was probably the closest he had a long term relationship because she was sweet, just a little insane in her motives, but Abigail would be the one to really coax him out of his shell on his own pace.

#nathan explosion #ableism mention tw #thanks for asking!! :O #agaricales #Insomniac Coffee Talks [asks]

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lonestarbabe · 4 years

Text

Holding Out For a Hero

Chapter 6: Levitating (AO3)

T.K. feels a little better, but then he feels a little worse

Carlos

The tour had been going well to Carlos’ surprise. Carlos had thought that might cancel it and send T.K. to rehab after the disastrous interview with that bastard Jenkins, but after vowing to never leave his house again in a fit of humiliation and self-hate, T.K. came around and had been adamant about not letting Jenkins drag him down. The story had been all over for weeks, enduring longer than most stories about T.K. did. Judd had been especially anxious. He’d had to make a lot of calls for damage control, and even when the calls were done, Judd still worried about T.K.’s mental health. He insisted T.K. see someone about it and had sent Carlos to hang out with T.K. on several occasions when Judd had business to attend to or Marjan was at work. Marjan had been practically living there. For once, T.K. didn’t seem to mind the hovering.

T.K. hadn’t wanted to face the world, Carlos had decided that T.K. could lock himself in his mansion all he wanted, but he couldn’t lock himself away from the people who cared about him, including Carlos because somewhere along the way, maybe pretty much right away, Carlos had liked T.K. Sometimes, he’d liked him for unfathomable things. Yet, T.K. was one of those people who was fun to be around when he wasn’t getting high and fucking dudes who used him like he was a piece of meat. After a few days of warranted upset, T.K. decided to take charge of his life, and he had Carlos bring him to Judd for an action plan. T.K. had gotten so sick after that meeting; after a night of wallowing, he’d decided that he wasn’t going to touch substances again. He was going to cut them all out cold turkey, and while Carlos was skeptical, T.K. seemed resolved to do it. Maybe too resolved. I know better than anyone that people who seem better aren’t always better. Taylor wasn’t, and he was smiling more than ever.

Taylor was a completely different situation, and Carlos didn’t want to draw parallels where they didn’t belong. I don’t even want to think about Taylor. He didn’t want to project his past issues onto T.K. because that would only prevent him from doing his job, but even so, he didn’t want to let himself get too comfortable. From a young age, when there was little that he could control, he’d learned that the key to having control was being vigilant, not having too much hope, and expecting the worst. It’s a sucky outlook on life, but it’s the only one that I’ve got. I just need to remember that T.K. is not Taylor. He’s just a client, a client that I have soft spot for, but I can’t act like I have any right to get too involved.

They’d only been to five stops so far, but T.K. had been a delight, which had made Carlos feel like he was an episode of the Twilight Zone because Judd had explicitly said that tour T.K. was a nightmare, but the tour T.K. he’d seen was eerily dreamy. Carlos had gone to Judd about it, thinking that maybe T.K. was only acting so strange because it was the beginning of the tour. As was true every time that he went to Judd, Judd had basically patted him on the shoulder and told Carlos that he was doing excellent work. He’d shrugged and said, “Maybe it’s the new therapist,” which was also weird to Carlos. T.K. had accepted Grace’s carefully compiled lists of therapists without even making a snarky comment. He’d said thanks and gave Judd a big smile despite the way his hands been shaking. Sometimes the scariest problems were the ones that you couldn’t see. I can’t protect him from things he doesn’t share no matter how hard I try.

Carlos was hanging out around T.K. in T.K.’s dressing room, and it wasn’t because he needed to be there. He had other security measures that he could tend to, but they had a whole security team who would make sure things were taken care of, and T.K. had asked him to be there. For whatever reason, Carlos couldn’t find it in him to say that he was busy or that he didn’t think it was a good idea to get any more buddy-buddy than they already are. He’d relented when T.K. smiled at him. How pathetic is that? Disarmed by a single smile. Carlos couldn’t help that a happy T.K. was kind of the best person in the world.

Some of T.K.’s friends were there too. Well, Marjan and some of her friends from work who had tagged along to see T.K. at the LA show. They all seemed like cool people. He and Marjan had already gotten to know each other, and she was a good influence on T.K. Paul and Mateo seemed like upright people too. They told a bunch of stories about the calls they got, most of them regarding idiots who got hurt or set accidental fires. Carlos had stories of his own to share, excluding any names of course. He hadn’t had a lot of gigs but any one of them came with a funny story or two.

T.K. quietly listened, looking at ease. He didn’t add any stories of his own, even at Paul’s prodding. “Come on, you’re like the most popular singer in the world right now, and you don’t have any good stories.”

Marjan rolled her eyes. “Don’t get him started. Once T.K. starts talking about himself, he doesn’t stop.”

“Hey,” T.K. replied lightly, “that’s not true.”

Mateo nodded. “Yeah, I haven’t heard him say one thing about himself.” It wasn’t that T.K. had been a silent wallflower, but Carlos had noticed it too. He said a lot without saying much at all. Sometimes, when he was feeling out of his element, T.K. would only give vague details about himself, and maybe it was because he had to be careful about who he told what, but Marjan’s friends were probably safe. If they ever blabbed, Marjan would probably make sure that they never spoke again. They seemed earnest too, and while Carlos couldn’t just look at someone and know that they were okay, he had a pretty good eye for people who just wanted something and those who were sincere. His dad had been the former type, so he knew a thing or two about people who were just nice when they wanted you to do something for them without returning the favor. Dad convinced me to miss my prom to help him with one of his schemes, and then he couldn’t even show up to my high school graduation.

“What can I say? I lead a boring life.” He slung his arm over Carlos’ shoulder. T.K. loved casual touches, and they drove Carlos crazy in an “I need more” kind of way. It would be so easy to get engulfed in the ocean that is T.K. Strand.

“Oh come on, Strand,” Marjan said. “Tell them about the time you spilled tea on the Queen of England.”

“Wait what?” Mateo asked, eyes widening. Carlos had heard that story once when T.K. was high. T.K. had been laughing his ass off and Carlos had just been trying to keep him from doing

Paul added in, “You really let us talk about a dude getting his junk stuck in a piece of wood when you spilled tea on the Queen of England.” He was laughing heartily at the thought.

“That story is a lot better than meeting a rich old lady. I’m pretty boring, believe it or not.” And I’m Swedish royalty. If T.K. was boring, Carlos’ job would have been a lot easier.

“It’s not as funny as that time you tripped going onto the stage at the VMA’s.”

“Marjan, did you really have to bring up my most humiliating moment?” By the way, T.K. was grinning, Carlos didn’t think he was all that humiliated by it.

Carlos nudged T.K. with his elbow, “You nearly fell off the stage Wednesday when you were singing Bitter Honey.”

“That was bad, but that’s not more humiliating than when you puked on stage?”

“I didn’t puke on stage. I went off stage.”

“Everyone could still see you, Strand.”

“I was what? Fifteen? I was doing my best.” Carlos couldn’t imagine being under the public eye at fifteen.

“Ouch. Fifteen is a hard age for everyone,” Mateo said.

“Being fifteen sucks,” Paul commented, a darkness in his eyes.

“It sure does,” T.K. agreed. Carlos nodded. A lot of shit had happened when Carlos was fifteen. A lot of shit happened every other year as well, but at fifteen things have a way of feeling extra shitty. Fifteen had been when Carlos had told his parents that he was gay, and honestly, nothing had changed. They didn’t care about him enough to care that he was gay. T.K. glanced at Carlos, looking nervous.

“I came out when I was fifteen,” Carlos said without thinking. It wasn’t like T.K. didn’t know that Carlos was gay, but they’d never much talked about gayness, so it felt strange to Carlos to talk about it, and maybe that meant that he wasn’t talking about it enough.

“I was eighteen,” T.K. said. Technically, T.K. hadn’t come out, he’d been outed by a thirty-year-old asshole who he’d been “dating,” Carlos used the word lightly because clearly a thirty-year-old with a fresh-faced eighteen-year-old doesn’t feel right. T.K. hadn’t even gotten his GED yet. The news about T.K. being gay had been everywhere. Even Carlos had heard about it, and Michelle always joked about his lack of pop culture awareness. “I don’t know if I could’ve handled being out at fifteen. My career might have plummeted.”

“When I realized I was bi a few years ago, I thought it was the end of the world. I thought that there was no reason to come out, but I’m so grateful that I had a best friend who shook some sense into me.” She gave T.K. a fist bump. “Now, I can’t believe I didn’t know I was sooner.”

“Accepting yourself can be the hardest part. My parents were very accepting of all kinds of people, so I think they would have been okay with me being trans, but even then, coming out felt like the worst thing in the world. My parents died before I told them, so I wish I’d been able to tell them, but it is what it is.” The conversation’s taking a dark tone, but T.K. seemed more interested in this than anything else.

T.K. gave a sympathetic look, face growing weary. “Sorry man, that sucks. It’s hard when you don’t have time to tell people what you need to say. I wish I’d been able to tell my…um… my dad, but sometimes life doesn’t give you that choice, and it never doesn’t suck.”

Marjan looked to Carlos, sagging slightly. She and Carlos are both concerned. They both know that the word dad doesn’t roll off T.K.’s tongue easily, and the feeling in the room shifts because of it. It’s gotten quiet and T.K.’s easy-going demeanor has receded just enough that Carlos is starting to feel anxious. One little thing can easily cause T.K. to spiral, and T.K.’s been okay lately, but he may be living on borrowed happiness. Don’t let this be an incident. Take charge of this before you lose control of the situation, Carlos. T.K. was getting fidgety, and Carlos was scrambling to find a way to calm him.

“Marj, don’t go all quiet on me. A little dead dad talk isn’t going to throw me over the edge.” Except it did last time his dad was mentioned. T.K.’s not angry, not right now, probably because Paul and Mateo were in the room, but his tone was too forced and sounds passive aggressively angry. Basically, everyone knew to dread carefully. I need to defuse this situation before it gets worse. If T.K. catches the uncomfortable glances that Paul and Mateo are sharing, he’ll freak out, so Carlos called T.K.’s name, making T.K. look over to him. T.K.’s eyes snap over, looking frantic.

“I know that,” Marjan answered, but she didn’t sound sure, and with all Marjan’s confidence, when she didn’t sound sure, she wasn’t.

Carlos made a show of looking at his watch. “You need to get ready for the show now. It’s getting late.”

Marjan caught on, and stood up, leaning down to hug T.K. “Teek, I’ll talk to you after the show, okay? Maybe we can meet up at your house or you can come to mine.”

T.K. nodded, calming at the touch of his friend. “Yeah, okay, we can do that.”

Paul gave T.K. a handshake. “Thanks so much for the tickets, man. We’ve all been curious about Marjan’s best friend. You lived up to our expectations.”

Mateo gave a wave. “Yeah, maybe later you can tell us the queen story.”

T.K. put on his fakest smile. “Sure thing, buddy.” Carlos could see that T.K.’s going to another place mentally, so he rushed the guests out, giving T.K. room to breathe.

Marjan lingered just a bit longer, giving Carlos a stern look, “Take care of him.”

“It’s my job,” he said.

“It better be more than that,” Marjan replied. It is. I’m probably in for a world of hurt, but I’d take care of him even if I wasn’t paid to do it. I want him to be happy, and I do my best to make him feel happy.

T.K

T.K. wasn’t as stupid as some people thought he was. He might have played stupid a lot because it was easier to get what you wanted when people thought you’re barely smarter than a pile of bricks. He’d gotten a lot of good info by acting dumb. Judd would tell him to cut it out. Marjan would usually let him get away with it just to see the amusing results that always came. Carlos would give a knowing look, not making a judgment in either direction.

Because he wasn’t a complete idiot, he knew what Carlos was doing as he swiftly moved T.K.’s guests out of his dressing room, and to his surprise, it makes him feel relieved more than annoyed. Maybe I’m a changed man, after all. Or maybe I’m just getting too attached. The new T.K. apparently is into letting people meddling in his life, and he apparently let his bodyguard be more than a nuisance who follows him around, and who could blame him? Carlos actually seemed to care about him. Like, he’d bring pink-frosted doughnuts in the morning just because T.K. liked them, and when Carlos brought them, T.K. liked them even more. It’s like the sprinkle phenomenon. Just like doughnuts tasted better with sprinkles, they tasted better when hot bodyguards hand-delivered them just because they were thinking about you.

It made T.K. feel pathetic that the doughnuts made him so happy. Carlos was just being nice because he was a nice guy, and doing nice things was just what he does. It’s not because I matter to him. He only cares because if something happens to me, he’s out of a job, and from what he’s said, this is the most prestigious job he’s had. I don’t want to ruin his career. He deserves a better client than me, though. Someone who isn’t a fuck up. He was probably just as nice to everyone else. I’m just too self-absorbed to notice that the world doesn’t revolve around me. But the doughnuts made T.K. feel special. Even if Carlos is just being nice. There’s something about little things like remembering someone’s name or bringing someone doughnuts. Those little things made people feel good even if they weren’t that big of a deal.

“I don’t need to start getting ready for thirty-minutes,” T.K. commented just to say something. He hated how he couldn’t seem to keep his mouth shut. He babbled and yelled and sang just because he didn’t know how to shut up, didn’t know how to sit with the quiet, and not go crazy and therefore didn’t know how to control his mouth. Most of the time, his mouth was autonomous from the rest of him. I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying half the time. I’m just shooting the breeze until there’s no air left for anyone else.

Carlos gave an apologetic look, and it’s so cute. My heart might just melt if I’m around him too long. “Are you mad?”

“No, most people wouldn’t have done that though. They wouldn’t have even noticed that I needed a break.” He’s so nice. How can I be that nice?

“It’s my job to notice what you need without you having to say it.” That wasn’t in his job description, but T.K. wasn’t going to argue it.

“I don’t know why I’m so triggered by my dead dad. It’s been years.”

“There’s not a timeline on grief.” Tell that to his mom, who went back to work in two days and acted like giving T.K. a guitar would make up for not having a dad. Tell that to the psychiatrist who told him that he couldn’t grieve forever or the one who had told him that ten years was too long to still feel so bad. Honestly, everyone who told him to get over it was probably right. It wasn’t healthy to live in that day forever. To think about his father burning to death when it hadn’t even been the flames that had killed Owen. It had been shrapnel. But still, T.K. imagined skin being charred and falling from his dad’s body, and he just wanted the image to go away. He wanted to stop feeling so scared because that’s what he’d felt since 9/11, a hot fear that he converted into anger because he was too old to cry about how terrified he was. He remembered his mother telling him when he was ten that he was too old to cry about nightmares. He refused to cry about them after, even though he had to bite his wrist just to distract from the torment he felt. He learned to bring the feelings inward and to destroy himself for fleeting moments of peace.

“Yeah, but I can’t even say the word dad without feeling sick, and hearing it sends a fresh wave of guilt through me.” T.K had this stupid idea that if he hadn’t been such a brat the evening before 9/11 and kept his parents up until 3 am that his dad would have been better rested and would have been able to do his job better and not die. Logically, he knew that lots of people with kids who weren’t brats died that day. Lots of well-rested, unlucky people, but T.K was never able to shake the idea that his father’s death had something to do with him. He’d never confessed that fear to anyone, and maybe that was why it was killing him, draining him of his ability to keep his head in reality. He’d prefer his mind to float away. He loved the detached feeling of not being at all connected to himself, and as fine as he acted to anyone who glanced at him, he couldn’t stop thinking about oxy. It made him sick with yearning just to think of oxy or E or LSD, or K, or G or whatever other combination of senseless letters would let him out of his head, a prickly, electrified cage that made him feel small and claustrophobic.

“Guilt?” Carlos looked at him, face pinched. T.K. figured Carlos saw him as a puzzle. He wanted to know what T.K. meant because it was interesting in a perverse way. Everyone wanted to know why a man who had everything but a dad couldn’t get his shit together. Some people had less but had somehow managed to hang onto their sanity. They didn’t crave an oxy every time a pang of feeling clawed at their gut.

“I didn’t mean that. I meant sorrow.” T.K. didn’t think that he sounded very convincing, but Carlos wasn’t going to press it. It wasn’t his style. T.K. needed to focus on his show, and bringing up deeply rooted childhood issues wasn’t exactly going to make him feel energized. Though, to be honest, before all of this had happened, he’d been good about being happy. He’d been bubbly and fun and felt almost normal, but then in a snap, that bright, fun to be around self had shut off. It’s like I’m too different people. One who likes the peaks of roller coasters and another who likes the valleys.

“I still miss my dad,” Carlos confessed, and T.K. held his breath. The dead dad’s club is not a fun one to be in.

T.K. felt flushed. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry for your loss.” It sounded so stupid to say. T.K. had always hated when people said that to him because it never made him feel any differently. Them being sorry couldn’t change his loss or even heal it.

“He’s not dead or anything. I just haven’t seen him in five years.” Carlos shrugged. “So, I don’t think he’s dead, but I haven’t talked to him in years, and cutting him off was something I had to do.” T.K. had to take a deep breath not to lash out. If his dad was alive, he wouldn’t ever stop talking to him. Even if he was the worse dad in the world.

“I know it’s not the same, but it sucks.”

“Then, why won’t you talk to him?” T.K. tried to keep his voice calm, but he sounded like an angry kid on the verge of a tantrum.

“Because as much as I love him, he can’t bring me inner peace. He only keeps me around when he needs something, so I decided not to make myself available, but I still miss him sometimes. He was mean and abusive, but he’s not like a villain you see on a TV show. He had good in him, even if it was just a very little bit. He used to take me fishing. I hated it, but I loved the time I got to spend with him. We’d fish, and suddenly, he’d become dad of the year. Then, we’d go home and he’d tell me I couldn’t do anything right.”

“I’m sorry. Sounds, dead or deadbeat, having a dad brings heartbreak.”

“My point is just that you don’t have to stop missing him. You don’t have to stop thinking it’s unfair that you don’t have him here. You don’t have to stop cherishing his memory, but you do have to learn to live with it.”

“Yeah, thanks, Freud.”

“I’m sure your therapist would say it better,” Carlos joked. T.K. felt guilty because he had taken the therapist list Grace had made for him and shredded it after one visit with the first woman on the list. He’d had video visits with her twice before deciding that he didn’t need that anymore. He started to feel better. The withdrawal symptoms had gone. He felt more in control of his life, so he’d decided that he didn’t need anyone doing a deep dive into his brain. He’d figured it all out himself. No professional needed. No AA, NA, or whatever other program was out there. All he needed was his guitar and to stay away from parties. There was a part of T.K. that knew he was being foolish. He’d gotten sober before like this when he just decided to stop and get his life together, but every time, when the going got tough, T.K. usually figured it was time to quit the good habits that made life bearable without the bad habits.

“Yeah, she’d give a bunch of psychobabble.” Dr. Aggarwal actually probably wouldn’t have done that. Despite T.K’s stubbornness, Grace’s search had been thorough and she’d chosen people who wouldn’t give psychobabble. Maybe I did do some research before I shredded the list.

“Are you okay with that?”

T.K. shrugged, “I’m getting used to it. I think this one is actually helping. It’s going to be a journey, but I think this might be something good.” He hated lying to Carlos. I’m such a dumb, jerk. But the truth wasn’t going to make Carlos feel better. It wasn’t going to change the situation. It wasn’t going to do anything but sit there like the biggest know-it-all in a room full of know-it-alls.

Carlos beamed, and T.K. wanted to disappear. I hate myself for being such a weirdo. I’m the worst person alive. Carlos deserves better than me. “That’s great. I’m glad you’re starting to feel better.”

The more T.K. lied about feeling better the worst he felt. “Yeah me too.” He forced a smile. “Me being better is only going to make your job easier.”

Carlos laughed. “I have a feeling that you’ll never make it too easy.” I can’t make anything easy. I always have to take the hardest route as if that will somehow cure all the awful feelings that I have when it does nothing but make me an angry wreck.

“What would be the fun in that?” Carlos laughed again, and T.K. felt himself relax. T.K. thought that if a laugh could save a person that he’d be saved, but laughter couldn’t save him. It would be like using cough medicine for a bullet wound.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fics #my fics #Elise Writes #my writing #tarlos fics #wip #holding out for a hero

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dishonoredrpg · 4 years

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Congratulations, PAYTON! You’ve been accepted for the role of THE TOWER with the faceclaim of RODRIGO SANTORO. What poetry could I write about Feivel? He is, at his core, a worldly man, has seen much, knows plenty, and still finds himself entrapped in a world which he feels he cannot possibly belong to. There is such a human quality to him in the way he shifts and turns just to keep himself alive; your concept with the mirror was especially fascinating -- he has a charm to him, but is it a charm that he’ll be able to stomach later on down the line? I also vastly appreciate your willingness to step out of the box and explore a character you’re not as familiar with; I can really see your affection for him here, and I’m excited to see what you bring to us with him!

Please review the CHECKLIST and send your blog in within 24 hours.

NAME: Payton or Paypay

PRONOUNS: She/her/hers

AGE: 27

TIMEZONE, ACTIVITY LEVEL: My timezone is GMT-7. I anticipate being active on the dash (as in posting starters/writing responses) typically between 4-6 days a week, with 4 being more typical. Writing is a pretty big component of my self-care and allows me a creative outlet to use some of my energy, so I will be on frequently.

ANYTHING ELSE?: I know this is a second application picked from a small handful of skeletons that still remained, but I wouldn’t be applying for another skeleton if I wasn’t just as excited and dedicated to what I could bring to the group with this skeleton as I was with my first application. At first I was pretty bummed and told myself if I couldn’t get back into a very excited state I would just kind of let it be, but the more I worked on this application the more excited I got about the skeleton and the character I was building out from it.

IN CHARACTER

SKELETON: The Tower

NAME: Feivel Asturias

FACECLAIM: Rodrigo Santoro, Chris Hemsworth, Joel Kinnaman

AGE: 42

DETAILS: What about this character interested you? Who are they to you? This can be as long or short as you want it to be, in whatever format you prefer.

I suggested this to you during our conversation during which you gave me feedback for my previous application, but The Tower’s skeleton is a big old jump away from characters I’m used to playing. Out of the skeleton’s that were left, I found The Tower’s to be quite compelling and likely the most challenging role to play for me. But I like challenges! Challenging is fun. I think in terms of my own development as a writer, playing a character that feels like such a departure from what I’m used to is a great way to stretch my creative muscles and really push myself to think deeper into the choices I’m making for my character.

Another component I like about The Tower is their history as an explorer. I would like to see story-telling be a strong component of their characterization because they have so many lived experiences. Given the setting, it’s likely he would be one of the most if not the most well-travelled roles in the group. His lived experiences would take him to the ends of the earth that his contemporaries only dreamed of, and I imagine he would be all too eager to recount the stories of his youth (only slightly editorialized… okay, fine, with some pretty significant embellishments). I imagine his life has led him to present as rough around the edges, as a survival tactic, as a leadership strategy, and as a mode of self-preservation… but when he gets to talking, when someone really gets him in his lane of story-telling he takes on an air of slight warmth and overwhelming nostalgia. He also absolutely adores young people, which is discussed a little further elsewhere in the application (one of the plot points if I’m not mistaken).

I am also very interested in toying around with his current role as an antiquarian--because who doesn’t want to make up a whole bunch of mythical items and historical artifacts and lore? I feel like not only would I be able to use him as a method to contribute to the general story line, but it would be a great way to explore some world building within the parameters you’ve set for the group.

I also think that the skeleton suggests that The Tower would be willing to take some risks, which would be interesting to play out. The fact that they were willing to play dumb in front of the king until it was clear playing dumb meant certain death, they take a chance: they try to bargain for their life, and it works. As an unofficial advisor, they view their stakes as being slightly less high than someone officially in the post, so they take risks: they combine a healthy amount of tact with speaking their mind. They see a monarch unhappy in her marriage and desperate for release, so they take a risk: they stand a little too close, brush the back of their hand against hers as they pass in the hallway, and find themselves in a full blown affair. I think taking risks would be an inevitable character trait of The Tower, who likely feels lonely for adventure and too big for their body now that they find themselves land-locked.

The actual card of The Tower also relates strongly to the history I imagine for Feivel and what I would assume could be a turbulent future given his affair with the queen and potential shifting alignments. I see “Tower upright: Sudden change, upheaval, chaos, revelation, awakening” relating to his arrival in Tyrholm and the killing of his men and consequential end to his way of life/loss of freedom. “Tower reversed: Personal transformation, fear of change, averting disaster” makes me think of his need to navigate the court and avoid what could be certain disaster if the affair with the queen became known to the wrong people as well as his perceived need to tiptoe around The Sun.

Something of interest to me regarding the typical depiction of this card is the image of the card itself. One website’s information on the card stated: “A stone tower is struck with lighting and lit in flames, two people jump from the tower presumably to their deaths. An image of chaos and destruction is painted.This lightning/subsequent fire enters in through the top of the tower and knocks off the crown. The people jumping accept that they do not know what awaits them when they fall - but it is certainly better than burning in the rubble of the tower.” I find this really compelling because I think that if Feivel was present for the event Mini wrote for Kithri’s para sample (and Mini makes that headcanon) or if Feivel sees or perceives Septimus mistreats his wife or perceives King Septimus as cruel in other ways it would be relatively easy to radicalize Feivel. Feivel knows he’s coming in hot on his expiration date, and even if he isn’t on the brink of death and he’s just feeling a little run down, I think he would really struggle to accept a land-locked existence where he’s essentially prisoner in Castle Tyrholm, and might, as the card depicts, run headlong into certain doom rather than accept the alternative if he found a cause worth self-destructing for.

BACKGROUND:

You are born on high seas, the ocean so ingrained in your identity that you could scarcely tell the difference between the waves of a storm battering your ship and the untamed beating of your own heart. Your childhood is composed of tangled memories of stern looks, rope burn, aching muscles, calluses, stolen goods, and the sound of splintering wood. The smell of gunpowder from the cannons found a permanent home in your nostrils and you lived with a constant sensation of breathlessness between the battles and seascapes that colored your days. Your early years are like the ocean itself; ever-moving, unforgiving, and constantly threatening to pull you under in its cruelty if you so much as dare to be still for even a moment.

As you enter your teenage years, the treatment you receive only becomes harsher. You are no longer only responsible for chores around the deck, but you are brought into roles of responsibility where a misstep can be the difference between life and death of a crew member. You participate in your first ambush, and it terrifies you how easy it is to drive a blade into another body and how hard it feels to draw it back out. But letting that deter you is not an option. The stakes are high, and the sting of every slap and lashing’s meaning is two-fold. Corporal punishment is a daily reality of your life, the best way a motley crew of pirates knows how to instill discipline. And beyond discipline, you know you’re the next in line for leadership and as a leader you must be unyielding. Your father is preparing you, and the way you see it the crack of his leather strap against your back is the only way he knows how to say he loves you.

You are seventeen when you inherit your father’s ship, his death a sudden and brutal blight that stains a corner of your mind you avoid with vermillion and a mix of pain and resentment. Your mother died long before, when you were no older than six or seven. The closest thing you have to any memory of her face is the memory of her running her fingers through your hair to soothe you to sleep. every time the sea breeze rustles through your hair it evokes her memory. You keep it long and unkempt for that reason alone, though if anyone asks it’s a matter of convenience. It is unbecoming of a captain to display such vulnerabilities as sentiment and weakness—or at least that’s what your father before you conditions you to believe. You quickly realize you see leadership fundamentally differently than your father. Where he asserted authority by means of dominance and violence, your approach values brotherhood.

You find yourself establishing a Brotherhood of Asturias. You name your clan in honor of your ship. Later in your life, you will name yourself in honor of your clan—not as a badge of honor, but as a reminder of your shame. No one would accuse your clan of reformation. To anyone outside of your fold, you’re just as ruthless as your father. You’d still burn the world to the ground for the promise of glory when the flames died down. But within your kinship, you develop a sort of honor code. Your commandments are as such: honor those who honor you, betray no other lest your life be on the line, help the needy if it helps yourself, to kill an innocent is the most mortal of sins, and you shall not advance yourself at the harm of others. Your reputation does shift, but only slightly. Rather than pillagers and barbarians, you are seen as a ruthless treasure hunter.

For the next fifteen years, your reputation precedes you. You travel to the ends of the earth in search of the relics of the old gods and to reclaim the wonders of the world. It isn’t easy work, but the payoff makes it worth it. You accumulate wealth with nowhere to spend it, but the sense of power of merely possessing the rarities and finery you have is enough. And you love the camaraderie and catharsis. By your mid-thirties, you are grizzled and scarred. Your body aches from the strain of your journeys, but your mind is somehow light under the sheer weight of the stories you have to tell. Your life is spent fast, but if anybody asks it is spent well.

Finally, aware of your limitations and content with your life of misdeeds, you select your successor and one final mission. You view it as a training exercise to cement your decision: both to lay down your arms once and for all and that you’ve chosen the best and brightest to take your place. You set sail to the remote island of Calamity in search of an item of lore, so simple that the common man would pass it over without a second glance: the Mirror of Ouroboros. The mirror is a small, handheld curio of impossible value. The reflector itself is a small, obsidian mirror that upon first consideration seems harmless if not impractical. However, upon looking in the mirror its magical virtue presents itself by revealing three truths about the user, each of them as destructive as the next if the user is without fortitude of mind. You recover the mirror with little consequence along the way, and you are reassured that your decision making was sound. You are resolved to your fate and wary from travel, you drift off to sleep easily after your final ransacking.

You are dragged from your bed by a pair of hands as cold and harsh as death itself. The mere touch is enough to pull the breath from your lungs. You don’t recognize her at first, but The Sun will haunt your nightmares for the next several years, and in a much more present way haunt your days as well. You are thrown before the king, your crew not far behind. But it is toward you who the king directs his ire. He demands the mirror, and you bite back at his entitlement. You tell him you don’t have any such item, and he knows you are lying. You tell him the mirror is no creation of his god, the Undying One, and as a result it shouldn’t be any interest of his. It’s the wrong answer. You realize it’s the wrong answer when you hear a squelch from behind you, and the sound of a body drop to the floor. The groaning is easily recognizable as your second in command, slaughtered as result of your folly before they even had their real chance to carry on your legacy. The world mutes, but you’ve seen this scene before. There is nothing but a loud ringing in your ears, but you know The Sun is working down the line of your men behind you.

Your hands shake as you pull the mirror from your breast pocket, and you consider looking into it. Surely the madness is a better fate to resign yourself to than to live with your indirect responsibility for your brotherhood’s death. For another moment, you consider allowing the king to look into it, to exact your revenge without needing to so much as lift a finger. Instead, you slide the mirror across the floor, still safely contained in its cloth shroud. You hear your voice warning the king of the mirror’s power, that with patience and research it could be the key to turning his kingdom into an empire. You tell him that more relics exist across the span of the globe, some of them here on the continent of Markholm. You’re bargaining for your life, despite the fact that according to your very own honor code you no longer deserve it.

For some reason, the king lets you stay. You know this is more a strategic move on Septimus’ part than an act of mercy. You are hardly a free man. You yourself know that not all prisons have bars. Yours doesn’t, but you’re locked in a cage all the same. Your wild heart rails against your fate at first, but your tired body cannot keep up. You slowly resign yourself to your circumstances. You spend your day lamenting and licking wounds for months, giving Septimus advice through gritted teeth and refusing to recognize kindness from anyone around you. You are like a cornered dog, but you damn well know better than to bite the hand that feeds.

Slowly, the dagger in your heart loosens and you move through the stages of mourning your freedom, your crew, and your former life. This doesn’t mean that your life in Tyrholm is easy, but you start to recognize areas of comfort. The Empress shows you a modicum of kindness, and you cling to it. The way you see it, the pair of you mean little more to each other than a pair of warm bodies at first, but it’s a momentary distraction the both of you welcome. The way your rough, calloused hands catch on the silk she seems herself to be spun from reminds you of your place, it stops you from being careless enough to leave fingerprints. You stop yourself from getting emotionally attached--no one ever accuses you of being a wise man, but you know better than to shit where you eat. The Moon gravitates in the perimeter of your attention, and you wonder what she wants from you, though she never seems to ask for much. The Sun also exists within your gravitational pull, though you wish she wouldn’t. You have nothing but enmity for her, an emotion you know is futile but that you can’t seem to put away.

The one thing you take seriously is your role as advisor. Septimus strikes you as mad and simple, a ruler grounded in dualism and individualism. Your belief in brotherhood and the collective clashes with Septimus’ harsh reign, but you can stomach it given your years spent under your father’s thumb. You yourself are never treated with particular cruelness after you are added as a member of the court. A part of you cares how everything shakes out, even though your body tells you it might give out before you see things through. Another part of you only cares about slowly convincing Septimus to give you a longer leash to try to convince him to dispatch you for one last adventure or two.

PLOT IDEAS:

You’ve Got Your Reputation and Your Good Intent (The Emperor): Feivel was not exactly a willing addition to the court. With death as the only alternative, joining up with Septimus looked like a good choice, but in the skeleton it doesn’t suggest that The Tower ever develops any sense of loyalty or admiration for King Septimus. In fact, in the connection section with Judgement, it suggests that The Tower finds the world they find themselves stuck within to be “horrible”. Given I want to incorporate captaining a ship as part of Feivel’s past, he would chalk up the state of the world to mediocre leadership. Further, The Tower is smack in the middle of the triangle depicting attitudes and loyalties. He doesn’t have much skin in the game, but he kind of gives a shit. I have to imagine that given their travels, The Tower would have a stronger concept than Septimus of how the other side lives, how people perceive things, of even surface level diplomacy, who seems to make decrees and decisions at a whim. Knowing that The Emperor is the next in line for the throne, I imagine The Tower would want to see the heir equipped with more of a holistic outlook rather than a self-interested, dualistic approach. While it sounds like Septimus is the one who likes to be regaled with stories of adventure and daring, I imagine Feivel might try to impart some sort of wisdom about different perspectives, universal truths, and interest in the plight of fellow man. The Emperor has probably never experienced life outside of the castle walls, certainly never outside of Tyrholm where many valuable lessons for a future ruler wait to be learned. But Feivel struggles with putting his meaning into words, he isn’t some educated member of the court, he’s a rogue in nice clothing. There is no underlying agenda aside from expanding the young heir’s worldview--but the danger of saying the wrong thing, of the slightest slip up in the tone of voice being read as a criticism of King Septimus makes the line between good intent and treason a tricky one to walk.

Suffer the Fools (The Moon): Feivel enjoys young people tremendously. Youth tends to couple with ambition and vigor. This is also part of why he even wants to bother trying to impress some of his lived experiences on The Emperor. Based on the connection written in The Moon’s bio, it seems like The Moon would be eager to listen to those very same stories. The Tower is depicted as a cache of information regarding other civilizations, the old gods, history, antiquities, magic, and tales of their own youth. I think in talking to The Moon about these stories and being listened to, a friendship would be forged and from that friendship, trust. Feivel understands thieves' code, he can pick up the dynamic in most any room he walks into, he knows history, he recognizes value when he sees it, navigation and survival in the wild is a given… but all of this was learned through oral tradition. Books were of little value on a ship, education wasn’t valued in his lifestyle. In his previous station, Feivel couldn’t have cared less, but now it’s developed into a soft spot. What does it say of a king if their antiquarian and unofficial advisor is illiterate? I think that if Feivel developed trust with The Moon, he would be willing to share this vulnerability asking them to write correspondence for him in a pinch and potentially how to read and write. I think this vulnerability might help lead The Moon to ask the questions they have about magic as discussed in The Moon’s connections.

All’s Fair in Love and War (The Empress): I am interested in exploring the connection listed in The Empress’ bio depicting the affair between The Empress and The Tower. It is not really mentioned in The Tower’s bio or in the main body of The Empress’ bio. I am interested in exploring Feivel’s motivations in this affair. Is there genuine affection that Feivel feels for The Empress, or does he see her as a pretty treasure of the king’s that makes for an interesting conquest? If there is genuine affection, how does he deal with the jealousy or perceived mistreatment of The Empress as a wife? Additionally, there could be a number of interesting consequences for the affair to deal with as far as jealousy, not being able to bit his tongue regarding Septimus’ attitude about his wife, or even the secret of the affair becoming more widespread. I think the affair could also complicate the way that some members of the court and group see Feivel. They could potentially misread the affair, whether it’s a matter of the convenience of the two just acting as warm bodies for one another or if it develops into a full blown emotional affair, as Feivel tries to step into a role of power or exploitation. It’s also some pretty damaging ammunition against him if he crosses the wrong person.

Mirror of Ouroborus (The Sun/The High Priestess): One of the things I would look forward to adding to Feivel’s character and the group as a whole is sort of building out the world with some mystical items. In this case, I think it could be fun to toy around with the item that landed Feivel on King Septimus’ agenda in the first place. This is a plot I would build out with either of the two more experienced necromancers. The item I have in mind for this plot point in particular would be called the Mirror of Ouroborus, an ancient, magical artifact the most of the world either doesn’t believe exists or has already forgotten. The mirror itself is a small, obsidian mirror that upon first consideration seems harmless if not impractical. However, upon looking in the mirror things begin to complicate. When looking in the mirror, it shows its user three truths. The first truth is easy to swallow: the reflection morphs into the user at the epitome of their potential, in their greatest state of glory. The second, the reflection morphs into what it is that stands in the way of those accomplishments, whether its an internal or external force. And third, it shows the essence of the user as they really are. Each of these reflections manifest as a simultaneous, momentary vision, but the mirror itself is dangerous. The lore surrounding the mirror depicts the third reflection driving everyone bold enough to stare into the mirror mad, incapable of swallowing the truth about themselves and the inherent flaws of humanity. However, who better to look into the mirror than someone numbed to even the most base emotion? Though it’s unlikely Septimus would put something as valuable as a master necromancer on the line for anything less than a guarantee. I would imagine in this plot, Feivel and either The Sun or the High Priestess would be tasked with unraveling the mystery of the Ouroborus Mirror for its eventual use.

If You Stand For Nothing, What Will You Fall For (General): Check out the triangle of alignment and who is smack in the middle but The Tower? I think this presents a few interesting concepts. There are so many different components of the skeleton that could suggest many different ways for his allegiance to be pushed and pulled. If he has a personal rather than transactional relationship with The Empress, her alignment of general tolerance of King Septimus might pull him toward anxiously waiting out the king. Then again, it might have the opposite effect if Feivel ends up having very spiteful feelings about the Empress being stuck in the marriage. I envision most of the connections listed on the bio slowly dragging Feivel’s alignment toward the bottom left of the chart. I want to explore Feivel’s character with a moral alignment of true neutral as well, which I think would create a lot of interesting dynamics given Feivel seems to be starting from a place of general neutrality as well. I would be very interested in seeing what, if anything, could radicalize Feivel given his starting point.

Through Terra Incognita: Feivel is not exactly a member of the court by choice, but rather quick wit and Septimus’ whim. I would argue that Feivel sees himself more as a prisoner of the court than actually free. He was brought to the court by force, and he’s essentially kept there out of fear of the Sun. Sure, there are perks. He probably is all about that food, a nice bed, fancy clothes, and a comfortable place to rest his tired bones… but just because he wanted a rest doesn’t mean he isn’t restless. It might be interesting to have Feivel be dispatched by Septimus to retrieve some sort of treasure or antiquity with another character or maybe even two. This item could potentially be central to the plot if it interests you to invest in the plot in that way. I think this could be an interesting way to interact with Judgement (religious relic?), or potentially The Hermit or Strength. However, I’d be happy to make this plot work with whoever might be interested even if they aren’t listed there. Fievel is probably incredibly eager to go on any sort of adventure and get out of the city, so he would jump at the chance to go on such a quest, even if he clashed with his travel companion every step of the way.

Brave, Intrepid, and Then Some: If you do not recognize the lyrics used as titles (here and the plot point above), the song “The Trail We Blaze” from Dreamwork’s masterpiece The Road to El Dorado is big inspiration vibes for Feivel and his adventurous side. He knows he is never going to be the marauder he was before his years in Tyrholm, but there’s a spark in him that can’t quite go out. I think something to feed into this, and his general world knowledge, would be to develop a sort of “wonders of the world” for Markholm. Something I think that might be interesting to do is to pick a few characters and try to create artifacts, locations, etc. that are sort of drawn from or inspired by these characters. Perhaps they would not be significant to the plot, but I think it could be a fun concept to build out Feivel’s experiences.

CHARACTER DEATH: I think given some of the pies he’s stuck/will stick his finger in there’s a pretty real chance he might piss off the wrong people eventually (Septimus, Reynaud, Naenia given his fear of her) whether that be by him making a false move or his affair moving from a bit of an open secret to a full blown scandal. Also, he’s lived a rugged life, which I’m sure has taken a toll. Given the parameters you’ve set up to support players if there’s a character death and the context of this character I’m comfortable with it.

WRITING SAMPLE

Another restless night, and Feivel found himself roaming the halls of Castle Tyrholm with the company of his faithful hound, Gunport, at his side. It was the sound of the wind whistling outside his sleeping chamber’s window that kept a good night’s sleep at bay, the sound reminding him of those wind whipped days out at sea that built him into the man he was now. He lobbed a ball down the corridor lazily and got some mild entertainment watching the hairy beast chase after it with gusto before bounding back to its master’s side and pushing the slobbery toy into his hand. But even the momentary distraction couldn’t hold back the feelings that he was now more a ruin than a man.

His father had died valiantly in battle, though the skirmish itself could have been avoided by better planning. Even so, his father had died with his reputation intact, ruthless to the end. Feivel himself had quickly built his own mythos around himself, even if it was not as cruel as his father’s. He knew the Clan Asturias had gained a measure of renown, enough for King Septimus to know of their accomplishments, and as the captain of the ship Feivel himself was the figurehead of the legend. On nights like this, he would retract his steps and try to pinpoint the exact moment he had gotten too far ahead of himself or too comfortable. He knew what his father would say, that his downfall was the direct result of trusting anyone but himself. Some nights, Feivel felt that conclusion was correct. On other nights, he surmised that his fate was inevitable. For years, he had wondered how legends were brought to their knees. Now he knew he was little more himself than some exotic game King Septimus had cornered and would eventually mount on his wall like the other trophy animals in Castle Tyrholm’s gun room.

The candlelight flickered from further down the hall, and both Feivel and Gunport stood aware, their two sets of wild eyes pointing in the direction of the disturbance. He wondered vaguely if someone else was being kept awake by the ghosts of their past, or if perhaps it might have been the growing sense of restlessness that had been building behind closed doors and in whispered conversations throughout the castle. He had only been a member of the court for a handful of months, but he knew what the early stages of insurrection looked like. This was something he altogether aimed to avoid, more than convinced that the king would be able to put an end to any treason before it truly started.

It surprised him to see the queen passing through the hall, and for a moment he felt his presence was inappropriate. Life in Tyrholm had come with a healthy dose of culture shock, to say the least. He had cleaned up well, this was true, but he knew he was far from noble. His manners had provided ample fodder to mock him in his first months in the court, and the stiff clothing he had been given felt like it choked him. Perhaps it was his station in his office that made him feel most like the butt of a cruel joke, the books that lined the shelves and his pot of ink and paper virtually useless. He had wondered for a while how long King Septimus would humor him after he realized his master of antiquities couldn’t so much as write his own name. Luckily enough, he had proven himself entertaining enough to listen to that when he was called upon it was almost exclusively in person. Whenever the need to write was unavoidable, it was no trouble to intimidate a servant or page into writing it for him. It took little more than a menacing glare and the simple lie that he preferred to dictate his response rather than be saddled with the chore of writing his message himself.

As The Empress approached, Feivel bowed. It was practiced to look natural, as if he’d been bowing to monarchy all his life rather than copying the other members of court over the past few months. He also took grain pains to make the motion as fluid as possible despite the strain it caused his lower back. “Your Majesty,” he greeted, “I apologize for disturbing you this evening.” He tossed the ball away again, figuring someone of her stature had little interest in being near such a creature. The dog took off again after the ball, springing clumsily down the long hall.

“It’s quite alright,” Queen Calliope responded in a muted voice. She lifted a slim, graceful hand that caught the moonlight as she gestured before them. “Perhaps you would walk with me?”

Before Feivel had much opportunity to respond, Gunport had asserted himself into the situation. The dog pressed the ball into the palm of the queen’s hand, wet nose, slobber, and all. It was the habit of a well trained dog to return whatever it was fetching directly into the hand of it’s master, but Gunport was friendly and apparently wanted to extend the invitation to play to the queen herself. Embarrassed by what he assumed was poor manners, Feivel became somewhat nervous and hoped to escape the interaction without insulting Queen Calliope. He turned his attention from her hand to her face to respond, but his answer was delayed slightly as he observed her unassuming beauty; the smoothness of her skin, her piercing dark eyes, the way her silk-like dark hair framed her face and swept against her shoulders, and the delicate shape and hue of her lips. He was a man who recognized finery when he saw it, and what held more value than the wife of a king?

“Another night,” he mumbled, staring at the toe of his boot rather than in her eye. His voice was gruff, a bit terse as a force of habit. “When I don’t have the hound with me.”

Accepting his answer, the queen lifted her hand to pass the ball back to Feivel. He extended his hand, accepting it from her, unintentionally brushing his fingers against the back of her hand. The contrast between the two did not escape him, his own hand rough with work next to her unmarred skin. Her skin was smooth and cool compared to the warmth and calluses of his own hand. He let the touch linger for a moment before his eyes met her own. She didn’t seem disturbed by the touch, which even if unintentional was an insult to her station. Queen Calliope placed the ball in his open hand before bidding him goodnight with a soft, amused smile. “Another time then, Feivel. May the Undying One bring you safely to another day.”

“Another time then,” Feivel repeated, holding the ball up as if it were some secret known only to the pair as he walked backward toward his quarter. He tossed the ball over his shoulder with a roguish grin, his eyes trained on Queen Calliope. Only when she turned his back on him to continue on her way did he turn away from her.

EXTRAS

I want to plot out what the affair looked like, from start to current state, with The Empress’ player, so I’m not taking my writing sample as gospel. It just seemed like the most natural thing to write because I think the connection with another person in Tyrholm he established with The Empress was probably a turning point in his mourning process/ability to accept his current station as basically a glorified prisoner in Castle Tyrholm and to engage more with others.

Inspiration Blog (There are three pages, you gotta click the last little dot with a sort of square to get to the next page)

#accepted #accepted: the tower

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romanticatheart-posts · 4 years

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The Winds of Change

@cora-nova @allaboutchoices @ao719 @emichelle @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @cordonianroyalty @dangerouseggseagleartisan @eadanga @texaskitten30 @janezillow @jared2612 @dcbbw

A message from the author -- The following is nothing more than my attempt to recreate a fictitious tale that has been written and re-written a million times and in a million different ways (by some very talented writers I might add) since Choices aired its first chapter of The Royal Romance in April 2017.

The short prologue below will hopefully give you some idea about how the story will unfold and just for reference, it’s part canon and part AU, but all of it centers around Riley and Liam. Thank you in advance for liking or commenting and just know that doing one or both is the sweetest form of flattery and also keeps me motivated. Though, if you truly enjoy this first chapter, a re-blog would just put the icing on the cake! --

Prologue After her fall from grace, Riley was forced to board a plane headed for New York City. Back to her origin of birth. She returned with little more than a broken spirit and a broken heart, but what she left behind was a trail of shattered hopes and dreams with no possibility of restoring all that was lost. As difficult as it was to believe that her name had been smeared because of false accusations against her, it was even harder to accept that the man she loved had rejected her because of it.

It had only been a few days since her arrival from Cordonia, but even so, it seemed like a lifetime ago. She realized the big city no longer held promise for her, nor did it feel like home anymore. And while earnestly seeking refuge in the concrete jungle once more, she encounters one obstacle after the other, forcing Riley to face a hard reality. With her resources shrinking as fast as her optimism, if she doesn’t catch a break soon, not only will she be standing in front of a breadline waiting for a handout, but by that point, she will already be homeless. However, as the winds began to shift in her direction yet again, this time they would blow in her favor bringing a welcome reprieve from the hardships that had befallen her recently. This much-needed relief and support would come swiftly, and from a very unexpected source.

Back in Cordonia, Liam had just been crowned as king when all hell broke loose. And the award for most fortunate that night goes to the culprit who rained all-out chaos on an otherwise civilized ceremony because their timing was impeccable. But not so lucky, was the one who’s plans for the future came to screeching halt when his closing speech was interrupted by a devastating news release. It just had to be that moment when photos of his beloved Riley surfaced that captured her in a compromising position with another man, deeming her unfit as the potential queen.

Liam knew immediately it had to be staged and most likely part of a conspiracy, but who would do such a thing? And why? Needless to say, he was shocked, confused and angry all at the same time, but as the mayhem tapered off and old fears began to emerge, he made a split-second decision to protect her the only way he could. Under the scrutiny of his peers, the people and the press, he unwillingly fulfilled his last obligation by becoming formally engaged just as Riley is being forcefully escorted from the ballroom. When he learns later that she is on a plane headed for New York, his despair is replaced with overwhelming desperation. And as the old saying goes, ‘desperate times call for desperate measures’… Well, in spite of the circumstances, Liam found the courage he needed to assert his first official command as reigning monarch. It was a decision that would shake Cordonian tradition to its core.

Without further ado, let the chaos... Ahem. I mean, let the story begin!

The Winds of Change is a term used to describe various instances in which our paths are altered by unseen forces. A metaphoric phenomenon that will touch the lives of every living, breathing soul on the face of the earth. It is believed that change is inevitable and oftentimes occurs without a noticeable impact. However, when this invisible dynamic begins to whip and thrash around its next victim, what’s left in its wake can either bring joy or it can bring misery. And no matter which way it blows, no one is immune.

That cliché holds a particular truth for one spirited young waitress who, because of one incredible night, decided to follow her heart in pursuit of true love. If anyone had told her even a year ago that she would live amongst royalty as a member of the elite, and perhaps win the heart of a prince, she would have declared them insane. Ironically, she had little to none of the typical childhood fantasies about knights in shining armor and happily ever after’s. Her approach to life has always been more... down-to-earth. Even if it seems extreme, be open to adventure and embrace every opportunity that presents itself. But in the process, keep your head out of the clouds and remain true to yourself. Everything else will just fall into place. And when fate decided to test that philosophy by throwing a handsome stranger and the chance of a lifetime into the mix, without hesitation, she accepted the challenge. Although unaware at the time, Riley Brooks came face to face with a real-life prince and his three unlikely cohorts on a not so typical Saturday night. This was just the beginning of what would set her on the course for an adventure of a lifetime. So, let’s go back to where it all began...

Living in New York City and working at a local bar gave Riley ample opportunity to meet people from all walks of life and most of the time, they’d come and go without ever leaving so much as a smidge of an impression on her. Though, when these four men walked in, she could tell right away they were... different, but in a good way. And maybe the word unique would be the best way to describe them.

It was clear that they were not native to New York, or even anywhere near, but there was a distinct brotherly bond between them that was rather endearing. Not only was their comradery entertaining to watch, but they would often draw her into their trivial disputes and discussions as she brought food and drinks to the table. And for once, working an extra shift didn’t seem so bad after all. These men were so completely different in terms of character that she wondered how they managed to become acquaintances, much less friends, to begin with. But even so, she sensed right away that they’d be fun to hang out with. Though, only one of them had awakened her other senses.

His name was Liam. The man whose eyes were like mystic blue orbs that seemed to flash more vibrant each time he looked at her and when combined with that radiant smile he wore, well... let’s just say she tingled from head to toe. Throughout the evening she did well in her attempts to keep from staring, but that didn’t stop her from tossing a few subtle glances his way when she thought he wasn’t looking. It was hard not to, especially since he was so unbelievably handsome. Each time though, she was met by his hypnotic gaze that almost made her go weak in the knees. Riley found that even though her motto was to never get personally involved with any of her customers, there was just something about him that made her want to forget that small detail. There was no denying the connection that existed between them and if given the opportunity for something more, she would gladly seize it. But, since the bar was about to close and neither had made a move in that direction, she resigned that this would just be another classic tale about the one that got away. However, fate had other plans.

While Riley was busy finishing her tasks for the night, as luck would have it, the bachelor party was wrapping up at the same time. It was then that Liam approached her with an apology for keeping her so late and offered to buy her a drink as a thank you. The look in his eyes told her he was sincere and trustworthy, so without hesitation, she followed her instincts and agreed to be their tour guide.

Instead of the usual club scene that had been suggested, Riley decided to charm them all with a visit to a place she called her secret spot. It was a cove just off the beaten path that she frequented for the peace and serenity that came from being near the water. That night though, it provided the perfect backdrop for her impromptu date with destiny. While the others cavorted in and around the shoreline, Riley led Liam on a short walk to climb a small cliff overlooking the ocean just to show him an amazing view. Although, the only view he was interested in at the moment was literally standing in front of him. Afterward, they wandered over by the bonfire Drake started upon their arrival, both thankful for the warmth of the crackling embers. They sat side by side and spent that time just getting to know one another better. This is when she learned Liam was a prince of some country in the Mediterranean. The Crown Prince of Cordonia to be exact and seeing that his mood had shifted as soon as he mentioned it, it was obvious the subject was a source of contention for him. Instead of focusing on the noticeable conflict that was written in his expression, Riley thought a change of scenery would be the perfect distraction and might do them both some good. So, after stating his desire to see the Statue of Liberty on his last night here, she cashed in a few favors and fulfilled a lifelong dream and in the process, brought the spark back to his eyes.

This was a pivotal moment for Liam when he recognized she wasn’t just some pretty face that used her wiles for personal gain. She showed him a side of human nature that was as sincere as it was unfamiliar, and yet something he craved all the same. It was simple really. His greatest desire was to be regarded as Liam the person, instead of a title that he was born to bear, and that is exactly who he was to her... just, Liam. The longer they talked, the more he realized that the feelings she’d stirred in him at the bar were multiplying by the second and once they shared their first kiss he immediately began dreading the moment they would have to say goodbye. Though the time did come, and it was much harder than either could have imagined.

At the point when they reached her apartment, Maxwell, Drake, and Tariq had all but crashed after their trip to the cove and were fast asleep as the limo rolled to a stop. Liam and Riley shared amused glances and then edged quietly out of the vehicle while stifling laughter at the sight before them. Though, once they both stood facing the apartment building, their expressions became more passive as neither was ready for the night to end. But after a few silent moments of contemplating the inevitable, Liam smiles ruefully as he gently takes her hand into his and they began the long trek down a short footpath that led to the front door. The entrance was not that far from where they were but wanting to hold onto these last precious moments together, they walked at a slower pace.

Upon reaching the threshold, the two stood looking at each other and for a brief moment, neither knew exactly what to say. Liam finally broke the silence, but not before lifting her hand to his lips for a sweet kiss and then held it tenderly to his chest, forcing her to take a half-step forward.

“Thank you for tonight, Riley. Believe me when I say that I thoroughly enjoyed every moment I’ve spent with you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Liam. I had fun too.”

“That’s... I’m glad.”

With emotions running high and hearts racing, their eyes were locked solely on each other. Knowing their paths would never cross again, Riley leans in and captures his lips in hers one last time. It was a long, deep kiss and without hesitation, Liam wrapped his arms tightly around her as though he’d never let her go. But then, it was over way too soon and both knew the time had come to part ways. He reluctantly let her go and took a small step back.

“I’m glad to have met you, Riley Brooks. I’ll never forget this night...”

“Neither will I.”

And with that, she turned to go inside as Liam waited until she was safely behind the glass entrance and then headed back to the limo. As he opened the door, he took one last moment to look back only to find that she was no longer there. It was a bittersweet moment, to say the least.

The next morning, only seconds after reaching the bar where she was just about to begin her shift, Maxwell, one of the four guys she’d met the night before, showed up with an off the wall proposition. It was an invitation to join a contest of sorts, where she would rub elbows with royalty, ski the Alps, and visit places she’d only ever imagined... but the best part of all was the fact that she would get to see Liam again. And if their connection the night before held true, it would definitely be worth the trip. And then there could possibly be a proposal at the end which seemed a little farfetched, but she was game. With Liam being from a sovereign nation, it was a tradition and expected that its Crown Prince would choose a wife from those that came from noble houses in and around the kingdom. Since Riley didn’t meet this small requirement to participate, Maxwell gladly offered to be her sponsor. Within an hour after receiving the invitation, she was on a plane headed to a place she’d never seen before. And before she met Liam, she’d never heard of it either.

From the moment she stepped foot inside the palace of Cordonia, until tonight, the time just seemed to fly by. And with good reason. Beginning with one ball and now ending with another, the social season had been a continuous string of parties and social gatherings where she sailed a boat, danced with royalty and even got to show off her skills on the slopes. As soon as one event ended another began, and each was more dynamic than the last. Aside from sleeping, not one minute was spent idly. Although her ability to hold stamina in this fast-pace environment was no different than growing up in the hustle and bustle of New York City, that is where familiarity ended.

It wasn’t a secret that she was an outsider with no formal education in navigating through this strange yet exciting world she willingly leaped into. And as such, it put her at a slight disadvantage over the born and bred noblewomen that came with their pedigrees primed and ready. But with guidance from a few close friends she’d made along the way, coupled with her God-given strength and determination, Riley was quickly thrust into the spotlight, becoming favored among the others. Not only did she find success in every event of the social season, but she also earned well-deserved respect in the process. Surprisingly, nothing about the methodology ever made her feel as though she was out of her element. In fact, it gave her cause to believe that this is where she was meant to be... the place where she belonged.

Though, her growing fondness of Cordonia was only secondary to the increasing affection toward its prince. And by the third or fourth event, there was no doubt that she had fallen deeply in love with Prince Liam, and as much as he tried to be fair to the others, it was evident from the way he looked at her that the feeling was mutual. Tonight marked the end of the social season and a hopeful beginning for the future. But, before she could seize her moment of triumph, she was literally carried away in a hell storm.

Sitting idly inside the Cordonian airport, Riley’s expression can’t hide the true depth of confusion and pain she feels at this moment. And how it runs all the way to her soul. How could one misunderstanding get distorted and be so far from the truth, that she was forced out like a common criminal? On second thought, at least a real criminal would have gotten to make a phone call before being exiled. There is no doubt she has a lot on her mind... and her heart. As she sifts through the scattered fragments of what brought her to this moment, a flashback of the not so distant past streams through her mind...

“Right now, I want to have this moment just with you. Not in front of the entire court. Not with nobles and servants watching. I want to remember this moment... before our lives change forever tonight. And when I remember it, I want it to be just for us. Riley, even if I didn’t need to choose a bride tonight, I’d still be proposing. Because I don’t need any more time to decide. I already know.”

“Liam... What are you saying?”

“Riley, I never expected to feel this way about anyone. I never expected to meet anyone like you. These past few weeks have been torture... wanting desperately to spend time with you but being held back by this damned process. Wanting so badly to hold you... to tell you that it was always you in my heart. You’re the brightest spot in my world. When I’m near you, I can’t help smiling, laughing... you’re the funniest, sweetest, most daring person that I know. And every time I see you I find myself thinking how lucky, how incredibly lucky I am that I’m the one you’re spending your time with. Ever since my brother abdicated, I was worried about finding a woman worthy of being the Queen of Cordonia. But since I’ve met you, I worry about being worthy of you. Riley Brooks, you’re incredible in every sense of the word. And I don’t want to spend another minute without you knowing exactly how I feel. I’ve never said this to anyone before, but I know it’s more true than my own name. Which is all to say... Riley, I love you.”

There was so much sincerity in the way he said those three little words, and as pure and unwavering as the look in his eyes when he said them. Leaving no doubt, that they were spoken from the heart. In vivid detail, Riley replays those tender moments she and Liam shared inside the garden maze tonight and can only be described as magical. At last, a spoken confession of deep and abiding love, one to the other. Then followed by the most beautiful display of affection that neither had ever known before... making love under the stars for the very first time. Their devotion to one another, sealed in that moment. No more hesitations... no more doubts. Just two hearts, two souls, converged as one... Even now, his intoxicating aroma is still fresh on her skin. Oh, God... I just can’t believe this is happening...

These were the sweet moments prior to her world being torn apart and there was nothing she could do to stop it. What began as a dream, suddenly turned into her worst nightmare and no words can describe the pain in her heart. Was it not enough to be falsely accused as unfaithful and then publicly chastened while guards practically dragged her from the Coronation Ball? Fate obviously thought not and had one last, cruel trick up her sleeve. Just as the doors to the ballroom were about to close, Liam’s voice echoes above the crowd, delivering the final blow...

“I choose... Lady Hana.”

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babemazzello · 5 years

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‘39 - A John Deacon FanFiction

Chapter 2 - The First Night

Story Description: Amy is sitting in his apartment when she hears some frantic knocking outside her door. She opens it to see a frightened and frazzled John Deacon. A 23-year-old John Deacon. Who believes it’s still 1974, and not 2019. Amy takes it upon herself to help John and get him back to where he belongs. Part 1 is here.

Chapter Description: Amy and John get to know each other a little bit more and Amy begins to explain some technology to John.

Warnings: None

Words: 2.7k

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John and I had talked a little more, just getting to know the basics about each other while I walked around the apartment. Trying to find things for his bedding set-up. I figured out he liked to read and listen to music, things that I thought he already liked. I told him that I also enjoyed listening to music, but I didn't get into any specifics. I thought it would be too dangerous to start listing bands. But, I couldn't tell which was worse. Listing bands he knew or ones he had never heard of before. As the conversation continued, he asked me what I did for a living.

"I'm a photographer," I said.

"A photographer?" He asked, surprised. Raising his eyebrows at me. "I like photography too." I smiled at him. Remembering the photos I had seen of him taking pictures with his camera around his neck.

"It's a fun hobby, isn't it?" I asked. He smiled at me. That eye-crinkling smile that he's known for. That lit up any room he was in. I couldn't help but smile back at him.

"Yes, it is," he replied.

We talked for a while longer. He told me about the band he was in. About his friends Brian, Roger, and Freddie. And how he had just gotten his degree in electrical engineering. I listened intently to every word. As if a museum exhibit had come to life. I couldn't believe what was happening in front of me. A little while later, I actually found some pillows and blankets for him to use.

I dropped the folded blankets and pillows onto the open spot on the couch next to John. I had found him a book he enjoyed and he was reading that. Thankfully, one of the few books of old poetry I owned, John enjoyed. I figured it wouldn't do either of us any good for him to watch TV. Not only would he not understand most of it, but I was worried about what he would see. Maybe commercials for the news or some references to Queen or other music.

I let out a sigh as I looked around the room, making sure that there wasn't anything that could clue him in to his future. I could tell he still wasn't completely believing me and this future stuff. I wouldn't believe it myself if it happened to me. And if he did see how big Queen has gotten, he wouldn't have believed it even more. I just needed to talk to someone.

"I'm going to make a call," I said, making my way into the kitchen to separate myself from him so he wouldn't hear me talk. John looked around the room, taking his eyes off his book for the first time in a while.

"Where's your phone?" he asked. I nervously chuckled and rubbed my neck.

"I'll explain that later," I replied. I disappeared into the kitchen. Grabbing my phone and dialing my friend. She picked up pretty quickly.

"Hello?" She asked.

"Dana?" I replied.

"Yeah? What's up?" She asked, extremely calm. She had no idea what was going on here.

"Um," I realized how crazy I was about to sound. "I'm dealing with a bit of a crisis right now," I said, as calmly as possible.

"What's wrong? What can I do?" She rushed out.

"Oh, no. I'm okay. It's nothing that dire. I just..." I sighed. "You're not going to believe me if I told you." There was a small silence on her end.

"Try me," she smirked.

"Okay. Just don't say I didn't warn you." I said. I took in a deep breath. "A 23-year-old John Deacon is in my living room right now. He thinks it's 1974 and I don't know what to do." I explained. I couldn't hear anything on the other line. "Dana?" I asked.

"Ok, I don't believe you," she finally confessed.

"I told you," I sighed. I began pacing around the room. Peeking into the living room to see John continuing to read his book.

"I want to believe you, but I don't," she continued.

"Fine. Come over tomorrow. He should still be here then. And you can see for yourself." I said. I just needed someone to confide in while all of this was happening. Someone to talk to who also believed that this was happening. Just someone to confirm that this wasn't some weird dream that seemed very real.

"Alright. I'll come over then," she said. I said my goodbyes to her before walking back out into the living room and sitting on a chair perpendicular to the couch John was sitting on. I just stared at him. Not sure what to think.

I had been a Queen fan my entire life. They weren't as big in America as they were in England, but they were still treasured. You couldn't go that long without hearing one of their songs in a commercial or a movie nowadays. Plus, with the Bohemian Rhapsody movie, everyone's attention to Queen is especially heightened. It just happened to be the worst moment in time to try and shield him from his own legacy.

Plus, I had always had a huge crush on John. Sure, he was quiet and shy, but there was something electric and magnetizing about him. Something that drew me to him. Plus, his songwriting abilities were close to genius status. But, I had to keep reminding myself that the man sitting in front of me hadn't experienced any of that success yet. He had only experienced a sliver of that fame in England.

1974 meant that they only had two albums out and they weren't that big of a deal in America yet. They wouldn't get that status for another year. I was looking at a man with so much potential to be a rock god and he was just sitting quietly, reading a poetry book in front of me. I knew his entire future. His loves and losses. His success and failures. His fights and best times with his friends. I knew it all. But, I couldn't tell him any of it.

I was enough of a sci-fi nerd to understand the very basics of time travel. And I was trying to wrap my head around how he got here. He couldn't remember much, so that wasn't helping me. There had to be something that explained how he got here.

"John..." I started, trying to draw his attention away from his book. He looked at me over the top of it.

"You can call me Deacy if you want," he said. I smiled at him.

"Ok, Deacy," I said, testing the waters. "You still haven't remembered anything, have you?" I wanted to make sure. He shook his head.

"No, nothing," he confirmed. "But, thank you for this book. It's very nice." I smiled and nodded at him. Leaning back in my chair some more. I looked across the room at my record player. Sitting there with rows of records on shelves next to it. I just stared at the rows. Mentally making note of all the music I had.

My eyes hit a Queen record and I raised my eyebrows. It was Queen I. I loved that record, but I didn't want to leave it out for him to see. He knew about that record. So, if he saw it in my apartment in America, he would begin to wonder and think and possibly ask questions. Thankfully, the record was too obvious for him to accidentally see it.

"Amy," John said. I turned my gaze back to him. Sighing a little as my name fell from his lips. And mentally kicking myself, repeating that he's here for help, not for you.

"Yes?" I answered.

"I..." He struggled with what he was going to say. "I'm afraid I'm so confused I don't know what to ask." He said. "I'm starting to believe that I'm not in 1974 anymore. I think that if I was really still back there, someone would have come to get me by now." I thought about it. He had first thought this was a prank. It explained why he wasn't questioning everything around him that much and being so calm. "I'm just confused, I think." He mumbled.

"About what? I can do my best to explain things to you, but I don't want to reveal too much. Just in case, when you get back, you'll remember everything I tell you." He bit his lip and nodded at my words. Taking a survey of the room around us.

"Where's your phone?" he repeated his question from earlier. I smiled, flopping my head down to look at my lap.

"You couldn't have started with a harder question," I replied with a small laugh. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. Placing it on the coffee table in front of us. I gestured toward it with open hands. "There it is," I said. The most puzzled look came across John's face. I quickly snatched the phone back up in my hands and placed it in my lap. "How about I explain something a little less confusing. Um..." I pointed up at the TV. "That's a TV. They are a lot thinner in the future. Technology is much better now. And the picture is much clearer."

"Huh," he said. Still trying to process the information I was giving him.

"Look, I'll show you." I grabbed the remote to my TV, turning it on to show the screensaver that was inevitably covering it. Pictures of landscapes. Mountains, oceans, lakes, forests, and deserts all flashed across the screen. All extremely high definition pictures, slowly moving across the screen. "See?" I said. "Look at how beautiful that is." I turned back to look at John. His mouth was open slightly as he stared at the images on the screen.

"How...How is that possible?" he asked.

"Technology," I replied. "The technology now is so advanced that images like this are very easy to make. I'll get back to that when we get back to this," I said as I held up my phone.

"I thought you told me that was a phone," he puzzled.

"It is," I replied with a smirk. I put the phone back down and turned toward him. "Do you know what a computer is?" I asked.

"Vaguely," he replied. "Aren't they used to calculate plane and rocket equations?" I wasn't surprised that this was his answer. At that time, computers were mainly used by governments and scientists to help compute calculations faster than normal. They didn't become widely available to the public until the late 70s.

"They used to be," I responded. "In your lifetime, they go from being these huge machines that take up the size of this entire apartment, to the size of the TV you have in your house, to almost paper thin devices in everyone's homes," I tried to explain. "Now, computers can answer any question you want to ask it. It's like the entirety of every encyclopedia at your fingertips."

"Any question?" he asked.

"Yeah," I confirmed. "Like if you knew the name of this poem right here," I pointed down to the poem on the page he was reading. Moving closer to him to do so. Almost nudging my knees against his. "But, you couldn't remember who wrote it, you just type in the name of the poem and the word 'author' and you'll get your answer." I was so happy to be explaining all of this to him. It was exciting. "You can go the other way too. Like if you liked this author and wanted to know what other poems they had done, you just type in their name and 'poems' and you'll get them. It's amazing," I finished. I looked over at him. Mesmerizingly looking down at the book in his lap. Lost in his thoughts. "Is that too much? I can stop if you want." I said in a soft voice.

"No..." he whispered. "No, I want to know more. It's just...a lot to take in. I'm really in the future," The last part of his sentence was more to himself, but I still responded.

"Yes, you are," he gave me a small smile in return. I continued to explain computers to him. Trying my best to explain them in terms he would understand. Then, I got back to my phone. "So, this," I said as I held my phone up. "Is not only a phone, but also a computer, a calculator, a watch, a flashlight, and a camera. This is everything," I explained slowly so he would understand all of it. "I can take professional photos just by clicking a button on this thing. Photos with more quality than possibly the best camera in 1974. Plus, I can call anyone in the world and also look up anything I want. Any question can be answered on this thing." He nodded along, but I could tell that it was getting a bit much for him. It was pitch black outside now. I had been talking for a while and I thought it was a good time to finish up. "I think we're done for today," I said, standing up from my chair. "If you have any more questions, I'll answer them tomorrow, but I think that's enough future talk for one day."

I walked into the kitchen. Grabbing a glass and filling it with some water. I just needed a drink. My throat was so dry from talking for that long. I heard John's book close in the other room and footsteps start to come toward me.

"Amy?" he said as he peeked his head into the kitchen. I set my glass of water down and smiled at him.

"Yes?" I replied sweetly.

"Thank you for helping me. I know this is a very strange situation, but I don't know what I would have done if you didn't answer the door." He gave me another small smile.

"I'm glad to help," I replied. He nodded before disappearing back into the living room. I spent the rest of the night researching everything I could about time travel. I locked myself away in my room while John continued to read so that he wouldn't be inquisitive about what I was doing. I didn't get much in the way of results. Just a bunch of time travel explanations from TV shows which I knew already. It filled in some missing bits in my memory, but it didn't give me any new information. Suddenly, I heard a knock on my door. "Come in," I said. Sitting up against my headboard and putting my phone down on the bed next to me. John slowly opened the door and entered my room.

"Hi, I was going to turn in, but I realized that these jeans aren't the most comfortable thing in the world to sleep in. Do you have something I can borrow?" He was being extremely shy. Wringing his hands together and not making eye contact with me as he spoke. He barely knew me and was asking to borrow something to sleep in. I understood his anxieties.

"Yeah, sure," I said, smiling and jumping into action. I practically skipped over to my dresser, pulling out some sleeping pants and a t-shirt. "These don't fit me anymore, but they might fit you perfectly," I said. He was taller than me, but he was skinnier. These pieces of clothing were always a bit long and too tight, so they should be perfect for him.

"Thanks," he said, holding the pieces up to look at before turning to leave.

"Oh and Deacy?" I said, getting him to turn back around. He raised his eyebrows at me. "Don't ever feel weird about asking me for anything. Ever. I'm willing to do whatever to make you feel comfortable." I smiled at him. He returned the smile. "And tomorrow, we'll go get you some clothes. Can't have you running around in the same outfit for however long you're here." He let out a small puff of air and a smile at my statement.

"Okay," he replied. "Good night."

"Good night," I repeated and he left my room, closing the door behind him.

--------

Taglist: @itsametaphorbriansblog @imgonnabeyourslave @deakyspuff

(I’m also tagging people who showed interest in the first part. I won’t do this everytime, I promise. But, if you want to be permanently tagging this story, just tell me.) @sunshine112 @little-weirdo-13 @awessomness @queenismylifenow @niyanadeaxon @captain--americanna @im-a-mazzellhoe @lets-go-panic-at-discos @layleigh123 @ksarah2120 @frhlyscmt @destielwinchestah @awkwardangelshezza @briarrose26 @thedeacywaltz @in-the-frap-of-the-gods @dear-joemazzello @tenderlyscreechingfan @galileo6960 @shy-deacy @live--aloud @jedi-dreea

Masterlist

#'39 - a John Deacon FanFiciton #john deacon #john deacon x reader #queen #queen fanfiction #time travel #queen x reader #john deacon fanfiction #masterlist #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #deacy #deaky

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thesinglesjukebox · 5 years

Video

youtube

SHURA - BKLYNLDN

[7.00]

Park that car, book that flight...

Ashley Bardhan: So. Fucking. Smooth. Creamy, slick, sticky, other adjective that could also apply to supermarket cake. I love supermarket cake, and I love this song. Shura's lyrics and vocal delivery are pretty classic sexy R&B crooning ("I could pretend I'm Jesus/That I'm gonna heal your body") -- it reminds me of mid-2000s Usher or Justin Timberlake. Especially with a title as corny as "BKLYNLDN." Unlike mid-2000s Usher or Justin Timberlake, Shura is a woman singing about another woman, and that feels exciting in an otherwise familiar environment. Also, the groovy tempo change and whining saxophone parts are hot. [8]

William John: "This is an emergency," murmurs Shura, before an ascendant orchestral flourish that moves with the same giddiness as does that avalanche of heart-shaped eye emojis when someone decides to respond flirtatiously to your Instagram story. When you're deep in the nucleus of that kind of desire even the smallest things, like sending or receiving a picture, can enliven the most upending tension. "BKLYNLDN" considers a romance that's transcontinental, a subject at the centre of 2004's Before Sunset, probably my favourite film. ...Sunrise and ...Midnight have things to say about these matters too, of course, but it's ...Sunset that is flooded with the most portent, where two people pregnant with vulnerabilities and infatuation are only willing to release them at the last possible moment, at a point where the somersaults in their stomachs finally become too unbearable. We as viewers aren't privy to the fireworks that must have ensued after that Nina Simone song ended and the credits rolled, but Shura's coda serves as the most satisfying form of fan-fiction. (Queer as hell, of course, in adherence to fan-fiction tradition). There, amongst rocketing squawks that'll make your whole body shiver if you're not careful, is where all of that restlessness gives way to delirium, where the lines between fantasy and reality are blurred in the most ecstatic way. [10]

Tobi Tella: At first I wasn't sure I got this; such a passionate declaration of queer love in such a chilled out, mellow contradictions. Raw and real feelings buried under heaps of Auto-Tune. But that last minute, an explosion of passion, emotion, and squeaky synths completed it beautifully -- I finally felt transported to Shura's world. [7]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Depictions of romance presented in raw, filtered through an art school whose curriculum includes 22, A Million. "BKLYNLDN" has its own tricks too -- the intro's silences force an acute awareness of the now. Between tastes of sweat-caked skin, you can hear your breaths in such moments of repose. Only with such hyperawareness does the unglamorous, un-Hollywood nature of intimacy feel riveting, personal. The bassline sputters filigrees as calculated and loose as the song itself, its small but firm pulses like fingers running across your spine. As Shura sings of a lover who's traversed the Atlantic, the urgency and joy of their reunion is made palpable, the song's title radiating with clarity. At first glance, the two abbreviated cities appear as an indeterminate cluster of letters. Upon closer inspection, they represents two bodies entangled: inseparable lovers. [6]

Jonathan Bradley: "In New York," an Australian trendspotter once reported, "Thousands of bearded hipsters scamper around Williamsburg or Brooklyn reading Kerouac and drinking whisky." It's the kind of geographical goof that comes of imagining places as fashionable synechdoches, and while Shura's pairing of the borough of Brooklyn and the metropolis of London isn't quite an error, it seems forced; a foreigner fascinated with the exotics of specificity. (Most of us would say "New York to London" -- or, if we were thinking transport -- fly out of LaGuardia or JFK, both in Queens. And wouldn't "Brooklyn to Brixton" hold alliterative appeal? Will there be a sequel, "Staten to Swindon"?) "BKLYNLDN" maintains its languor and, as Shura songs often do, sounds like an Instagram filter, which was a bit more charming when I still used Instagram filters. The tourist really jumps out in the coda, which is sunny and blissful like the first day on vacation. "We could take the subway," Shura suggests, her cool slipping away. "To the beach!" It's like a Big Apple version of Lizzie McGuire's adventures in Rome in The Lizzie McGuire Movie. [7]

Alfred Soto: She could've picked a less unwieldy title, but the real trouble is how this electronic midtempo R&B track doesn't suggest the distance between Shura and her lover, nor does it hint at erotic urgency. She sounds stranded. A pity -- Nothing's Changed remains one of the better synthesized callbacks of recent years. [4]

Iris Xie: "This isn't love, oh/This is an emergency" is a fun line, well-suited for a lush atmosphere that is filled with trepidation, desire, and awkwardness. The chorus is sweet, with how it suddenly opens up and brightens up with that mysterious scratchy synth in the back and a twinkling piano, and exposes the feeling of elation after holding out your breath for a good outcome. The outro is an adamantly happy ending, and the clumsiness suits the tone. Shura's giddiness from the first two-thirds of the song has finally burst, collapsing the long-held composure into a glowing sea of feels. [6]

Vikram Joseph: The woozy, cinematic haze of "BKLYNLDN" initially feels like a big detour from Nothing's Real's more direct alt-pop tendencies. But the more I listen to it, the more it makes sense; she's still drawing substantially on Blood Orange's oeuvre (there are some instrumental flourishes that feel iconically Dev Hynesian), but now there's unmistakable notes of Solange and Frank Ocean's Blonde on her more complex palate, and once it starts to sink in it's a real treat. A long-distance romance straddling hot summer nights on either side of the Atlantic, the stakes feel dizzyingly high; "This isn't love, oh, this is an emergency," Shura sings, a beautifully overwrought line which captures exquisitely the intensity of acute longing. The abrupt segue into a giddy, jazz-hued coda feels like the sort of reckless thing that people in love feel they can get away with because the universe is with them, and as such it's a lovely, hyper-real touch, immersing us into their happiness. [8]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

#Shura #pop #music #music review #writing

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lazyheretic-blog · 5 years

Text

Flip Side

The droning voices threaten to send him to sleep, but he's familiar with the beating that will earn him. He concentrates very hard on the glittering motes of dust that spin lazily in and out of the thin streams of light filtering through the screened windows. He imagines he can follow the journey of one individual as it's buffeted by updraughts of a wind he cannot feel. The heat is stifling; he wishes he were a dancing mote that didn't have to wear robes and a stupid hat and could ride the breeze. If he were, he thinks, he would try his best to land in Adminstrator Park's eye so he had to break ceremony and rub it.

He giggles, and realises his mistake. Park doesn't even look at him but the room seems to become much darker. He can see Park's nostrils flaring, a sure sign of his anger, even though his face remains impassive and the tone of his voice, expressionless and dry as he dictates tributes and taxes, never wavers. The boy shivers, despite the oppressive heat.

Park never beats him. It's always one of the women, a concu-something that the six-year-old hasn't figured out a role for, other than whipping him with a thin bamboo cane around his thighs. It's a crime to hit the king, of course; the real punishment comes afterwards with the ragged cry, gush of blood and the hideous tearing noise as a soldier slits their bellies open in front of him. If he doesn't watch properly, eyes wide open, he gets another beating. There's always a second woman in the room.

It only had to happen once. Now, he watches like a king as royal justice is dispensed in his name.

"See, your Majesty," Park tells him. "These loyal women sacrifice much in order to further your education. In a few years you will learn what else they can teach you. She will be reincarnated and will be pleased to rejoin their number to serve you."

He doesn't know why he feels sad at their deaths. It's only temporary, right? Their pain is fleeting and their reward is great. But the look on her face as she writhes in front of him, a girl only a few years older than he is, just makes him want to scream and hide. The soldiers scare him too, the ceremonial guards with covered faces and shining, bloody swords.

There's only one who doesn't. Gerralkim's been his friend since before he can remember and it's still easier for his tongue to wrap itself around the name he gave before he was properly articulate, but the tall man who kneels down to his level when he speaks to him doesn't seem to mind. He's never told Gerralkim about the beatings but when he's finally allowed to flee, the man's quarters are his preferred destination. He's not always there, but Wang Yeo has a child's active imagination.

This time, he's sitting cross-legged at his low lacquered desk, penning a letter in slow, deliberate strokes of a bamboo-handled brush. He half turns and smiles as the boy approaches him to watch characters form under the bristles.

Yeo finds it calming. Watching this is never dull, unlike sitting in the audience chamber, and he can pick out some of the meaning.

"Who are you writing to?" He asks, wide eyed.

The general smiles at him. He's a young man, younger than Park, perhaps twenty five at most. Years in the sun and in battle have darkened his skin and etched fine lines of worry between his brows and around his mouth. Unlike the officials he wears his hair down, dark waves falling off his shoulders and roughly cut shorter at the front. Today, he's wearing a pale cotton robe, wrapped at the front and belted. Yeo is relived he's not dressed as a soldier.

"I'm writing a letter to my father," he explains. "Remember my report to Administrator Park two days ago, about the battle against the Qidan?"

Yeo does. He always pays attention to General Kim, even though the thought of battle scares him. He nods.

"Well, my father worries about me. I write to tell him that I am unhurt and victorious."

"I worry about you too," the boy says seriously. "It would cause me sorrow if you got hurt."

Kim Shin grins, and ruffles his hair with a large, calloused hand, stained with ink. "You shouldn't worry about me. If anything happened, I would write you a letter so you would be the first to know."

"Of course. I am the king," the boy replies, all innocent and pompous, just as he should be. "But you should wait until I have learned all my letters, so I can write back by myself."

General Kim bows from the waist, arms folded in front of him. "It would be the utmost honour, your Majesty."

"Who's that?" asks the boy suddenly, pointing to a charcoal drawing of a woman and a young girl.

Kim pulls it towards them and straightens it between his hands. "That's my mother, and my little sister, Kim Sun. She's about your age."

Yeo studies it intently. It's an unusual drawing, life-like and untutored and utterly different to the heavily stylised scrolls hanging around the palace. He's drawn to the smiling faces of the little girl and the woman, shining with a happiness he's not used to seeing.

"She's pretty," he murmurs. "I want to meet her." He's never had playmates, wouldn't know what to do with them, but he yearns to see that beaming smile for himself.

"I'll let you in on a secret," Kim says solemnly. "Can you keep it?"

He's used to keeping secrets. Unconsciously he shifts and his bruised thighs protest. The stinging is turning to a profound aching, deep in his bones. He nods.

"Your half-brother, Wang Gang, willed it that you should marry my little sister when you grow up. What do you think?"

Yeo pretends to mull it over seriously, but can't keep the shock and delight off his face. "I can visit her?" Maybe, just maybe, there's a place Park doesn't have all the power.

"It's a bit far," the big man says. "The king should stay safe in the palace. She will come to you when she's twelve, and be trained how to look after you as a good wife and Queen." His face grew serious. "But don't tell anyone that you know, your Majesty. I don't think Administrator Park likes me very much."

He knows it's true. He's a sensitive child, schooled to be quiet, and taught by experience to read the unspoken language around him. He knows that Park hates the warrior like no other, but his close friendship with the previous king and his victories make him popular with the army. Apart from the handpicked palace guard, regular soldiers distrust civil servants like Park. He worries his lip as he considers the girl. The thought of her being beaten or treated like the other women is even more scary than what he endures.

He thinks he's hiding it, but he's transparent to an adult. Kim says, gently, "You and I will protect her. I promise."

"Tell me about her," the young king commands.

"She loves persimmons, fresh or dried. My father's last letter describes how she refused to eat anything else for a whole week, even when they made her ill."

"Persimmons make you ill?" He was doubtful.

"Anything can make you ill if you eat too much of it. Diet must be balanced."

"Tell me more."

"She feeds my horse persimmons, too, when she thinks I'm not looking."

Yeo was entranced. What freedom! "Did he get ill?"

"No, he just got fat. I scolded him for being so greedy but he didn't care."

Park hears their laughter, and scowls.

----------

The week Kim spends in the palace is the most fun he's ever had. Park doesn't dare threaten him when Kim's around, tall and imposing and cloaked in authority. His soldiers rest in the barracks, and sometimes Yeo sneaks over to listen to them sing and tell stories before he's inevitably discovered and carried back by Kim. They know interesting words, and talk about things he's curious to see; the ocean, barbarians on little ponies with tattoos, legends of gods he doesn't know.

Kim plays little tricks on him, pulling cards and coins out of his hair or from behind his ears, making him giggle with delight. Yeo uses his tall hat to scoop out a squiggle of tadpoles from the inner palace pond and dumps it in Kim's basin. He watches, wedged inside a tall chest and peeks through the hinge gap, as Kim bends to splash his face before the midday meal, and gasps in exaggerated horror at the squirming water. That earns him a rough capture and a serious and slightly painful head rub, until he's wriggling as hard as the little creatures in the sink.

Kim has to steal him a new hat.

But weeks come to quick ends, especially the best ones. He mopes in the doorway as a servant packs Gerralkim's traveling trunk, and the general dons his armour.

"A king shouldn't pout like that," Kim gently chides him. "You must be strong, no matter what."

"Must you go already?"

"I must. One of your towns in the North has been attacked, and I have to go protect the people there. Then I must retaliate so it never happens again."

"Will you kill people?" He asks in a sniffling whisper, the pink Cupid's Bow of his lips quivering.

Kim sighs. He can protect the young monarch from many things while he's there, but the realities of rule, and the war that allows it to continue, are hard truths the king must face. The servant finishes, and carries the trunk outside.

Kim bends down and kneels in front of the boy. "Yeo," he says seriously, using the given name reserved only for parents and close family he's technically forbidden from. He does it anyway in private sometimes, because he knows that it makes Yeo feel safe. "I won't lie to you. I have to kill lots of people to protect our own. We live in dangerous times, and if we don't kill our enemies, they might come and kill us. That town has children in it, so I have to go and make sure they don't come to any harm. Please understand."

Yeo nods. It's easier to accept when stated simply like that. Park sometimes tells him that General Kim kills in his name, as if Yeo's responsible; maybe he is, but he didn't ask for it.

Kim pulls him unceremoniously into a last rough hug, and holds him close until the child stops shaking.

----------

He's away for several years. His letters, delivered by suspicious-eyed warriors, tell of continuing unrest and the need for more soldiers at the front. After a while, they dwindle in frequency and no longer go directly to him; Park receives them first. Yeo is shocked when Park passes along a blood stained scroll in shaky handwriting detailing a massacre of a barbarian village, women and children subjected to torture and worse before being burned alive. Park says, nonchalantly, that Kim's acting on his own; that orders have been sent to have mercy on the barbarians, but the people of Goryeo call for revenge, and General Kim gives them what they want.

Yeo doesn't know what to think about this, but he's not given time to consider; when there's a botched attempt on his life by one of the couriers, the palace is locked down and he's placed under armed guard permanently. His food is tasted, his servants are replaced, and Park himself moves into the annex of the king's quarters.

"Your Majesty," Park tells him, a week after the attempt. "We cannot, of course, be sure that General Kim sought to take your life. It is true that the people are starting to worship him as a second sun in the sky, but we should not be hasty in judgement. Please have patience and mercy until the truth is revealed."

Yeo's mind is foggy, a result of sleepless nights and the restless paranoia of his guards. It's all he can do to sit straight on the hard throne, and at the age where his bones sometimes feel like they are breaking and knotting themselves back together constantly, he's rarely inclined to introspection.

He's twelve just before he sees Kim again, walking alongside the palanquin containing his new bride. It's a pretty box, carved but not lacquered like his own, carried by four stocky men. Not a commoner's carriage, but not royalty. Tradition forbids him from rising to greet them, and despite his constant fatigue he's eager for it to be over so he can take advantage of the freedom Kim's visit should bring.

He is disappointed. Hard-eyed guards keep them separated except in formal situations. He is desperate, bursting to ask so many questions, to ask if Kim tried to have him killed, why he sends his letters to Park now, why he has to kill children in the name of Goryeo. If Kim notices the pleading in his eyes he doesn't react to it, just stays his tongue and speaks formally, steady voice echoing in the audience chamber. Park keeps Yeo away from battle accounts, claiming that he should not sully his mind with the unnecessary details.

----------

It's well after Kim has left that the guards make an error of sorts. There's a commotion in the kitchens, the loud crash of celadon pots meeting an untimely end, and the guards reach for their swords, drawn to the sound. Yeo sweeps from the room before his servants can object and flees, followed by his indignant shadows, to the outer wall of his courtyard. The palace walls are low, barely taller than him at twelve years old, and he gets a leg up on an obliging flowerpot to peer over at the ladies' domain.

She's beautiful, is his first and only thought.

She's trying to walk with the grace of a queen, a small dish balanced on each of her shoulders, but her face is sort of squished up with the effort of concentration. Several pinch-faced women watch her, whispering to each other behind their long and loose sleeves. His heart goes out to her; she must feel judged, like he does. It looks hard, walking so straight over the uneven stone slabs, with that bunch of harridans silently laughing at you, in those tiny ridiculous shoes.

His hand grates over a stone; she looks up startled, and meets his eyes as the plates go crashing to the floor. She offers him a small, uncertain smile and he grins back, amused and confusingly aroused at her clumsiness.

Insistent, unwelcome hands help him down from the wall.

----------

Their wedding night, two years later, is the first time they get to speak in private. Unsure of what he's meant to actually be doing, the two young teenagers simply spend the time in their sleeping robes talking into the small hours of the morning.

She's terrified of Park. So is he, of course, but he's sworn to himself to protect her and he can't tell her the worst of it. Some things are his burdens to bear. So he instructs her to just do as Park tells her and he hopes with all his heart that this will be enough to keep her safe.

----------

She's too much like her brother, he realises as he matures into his fifteenth year. She's grown up with freedom and love and doesn't understand his kind of survival.

She shouts at him, "Why do you always side with Park? Is it too much to ask that I go outside these dark walls once before I die? The people are loyal, they love you. Nothing will happen to me!"

"Be quiet!" He hisses. "If Park hears you question him-" The room echoes with the sound of the chopstick snapping in her hands.

"I don't care what Park hears! You are the king, I am the queen! What does he matter?"

His mind whirls; images of bloody concubines and sharp swords crowd behind his eyes. The ghosts of pain around his lower body makes him tense. She has to submit; it's the only way she can survive. For her own good, he grabs her by her slight, narrow shoulders and pushes her into the floor pillows.

"I am the king," he growls in her face, his teeth grinding together with every word. "And you will obey me."

His breath is hot and stale, and his long pale fingers dig bruisingly into her flesh. From so close, she can see the tiny red veins in his eyes, dark-rimmed and intense. He's never been physical before, or hurt her in any way, so she's shocked at his sudden ferocity and can't find the right words to calm him down.

Still gripping her, he says quietly, "I can only protect you if you obey me."

She's still in shock, even after he releases her and steps back. His own heart is pounding loudly in his ears and he clenches and unclenches his fists to exorcise the tension.

"My brother," she says in a small voice. "He can protect us both. Call him back from war."

Yeo shakes his head. "He leads the army but too many of the men belong to Park now. Even if he came back, the palace guards would keep him out. He has to stay away. I can't protect him either, if he comes back."

It earns him a sniffle of temporary defeat, but he knows she's too stubborn to give in easily.

----------

It's checkmate, and he knows it, signing the order that will keep Kim Shin away from the capital for good. He's back for a brief respite, sanctioned by Park, though he doesn't know it, in return for the royal seal on that scroll. Yeo bargains for an audience alone, and gets it, but he knows there are ears and eyes in the walls.

Kim doesn't understand, but he doesn't have to. It's enough for Yeo that he's going away to be safe, because he has enough faith to know that Kim is unkillable in battle.

Through clenched teeth and on his knees, Kim accepts the sword that Yeo has had made for him. It has a tiger on the hilt, because that's how Yeo thinks of him; ferocious, graceful, and gentle.

Kim thanks him through gritted teeth. His parting words are cold and sarcastic. Yeo's heart breaks as he speaks, equally coldly, of his coming sorrow at Kim's death, praying silently, fervently, that it will be many years before coming. He desperately wants a last embrace from the man he thinks of as his only friend, and tells himself that his life is the only thing that matters.

----------

In the middle of winter, he finds out that Kim has disobeyed him. He rushes to Sun's rooms, intent that somehow she can write and dissuade him from his self-destructive path. In the presence of the servant-spies, he calls Kim a traitor, acid burning his throat at the lie.

He knows she loves him, but she's far braver than he is.

----------

As General Kim Shin approaches the heavy wooden double gates, the court waits in silence within. Behind Park, Yeo sits beside Sun, close but no more able to touch her than reach the moon. She is staring straight ahead, back ramrod straight, breathing a little too fast. As the gates swing open she rushes forward and halts at the top of the stone steps when the archers draw their bows in unison, the creaking of strings the only noise in the icy courtyard.

Kim ignores Park; his eyes flick between Yeo and his sister's as he approaches, slowly, wearily, his lieutenant at his heels. He's wearing only his black padding, no armour; he's got the sword Yeo gave him but no means of defending himself.

Yeo's heart gives a painful twist. He doesn't really hear what's being said, but there's nothing he can do to stop what he knows is coming when Sun takes an arrow to the chest and tumbles, soundlessly, to the ground. Around them, bodies fall. The screams reach him curiously delayed, muted as though underwater.

As the gifted sword is driven through his friend's chest, he finally crumbles, and flees.

----------

The years that follow are lifeless and grey, as though that winter day never came to an end. The decoction tea Park sends him every day is numbing and he welcomes the oblivion it brings him each night. His second wife has somehow conceived a child; he doesn't know how, and he can't even recall her face or name, so he doesn't care. The servants stay away from him except for necessities; dressing, eating and bathing. His presence is rarely required in the throne room.

Park takes care of all that.

He's still got that charcoal drawing in a secret drawer, now yellowed and smudged with old tears. On his better days he pulls it out and takes a cathartic comfort in the fresh guilt it brings; he craves the crying, the cramps, the nails he digs into his palms until they bleed.

He draws, seeking a nameless meaning in his work. He mainly draws Kim Shin as he remembers him, tall and dependable, strong enough to conquer the world and carry it on his shoulders.

Sun evades him, as if refusing to materialise on paper out of spite. She is clear in his mind's eye but his hands shake too much.

In his thirtieth year, enough decoction tea to kill him in burning agony keeps his hands steady enough to finally capture her.

#goblin #dokkaebi #도깨비

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yodawgiherd · 6 years

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A broken nose

Read on AO3

Rating: T Setting: Post-canon Prompt: Parental Eremika

Hannes supposed that most of the other kids didn’t get summoned to the office of the general of the Eldian Royal Army when they got trouble in school. Then again, the other kids weren’t offspring of said commander. He kept his gaze on the ground, let it slide on the window, looking anywhere but on the person on the other side of the table, because he could feel the piercing look of the steel grey eyes drilling into his skull.

“Hannes look at me. “

He sighed, slowly letting his eyes climb up, over the massive desk and the small nameplate that sat on top of it, Gen. Mikasa Ackerman-Yeager engraved on it with golden letters. Then finally he focused his gaze on the woman sitting there, his mother. The courage he built up quickly crumbled however, because one quick peek assured him in one thing. Angry mom was scary. “What is this supposed to mean? “, she said, the paper he brought from school held up in her right hand. “Getting into fights? Really? I don’t remember raising you like that! “He opened his mouth just to close it again and shook his head, defiant. Mikasa sighed and used her free hand to massage her temples. She knew that her son was going through early puberty right now, but that didn’t mean that he could go around punching other kids, damn it. Just as she opened her mouth to press the issue and get him to talk, the door to her office opened and her secretary put her head in.

“I’m terribly sorry to intrude ma’am, but you have the meeting with the queen scheduled. It’s best that we get going as soon as possible.“ Mikasa glanced over to the clock on the wall, seeing that the woman was right.

“Just give us a minute, and I’ll be right out.“ Her subordinate nodded, and after giving the squirming Hannes a small encouraging smile withdrew, closing the door behind her. Mikasa redirected her eyes back on the child on the other end of the table. Hannes was looking back at the floor, his mouth pressed into a thin line, his hands gripping the arms of the chair so hard that his knuckles were bleeding white. Whatever was the reason for his brawl with the other kids, he didn’t want to tell her, and she had no time to dig deep. One does not keep the monarch waiting, especially when the meeting was with Marley diplomats, who once again tried cutting the import taxes. Bastards.

“Come here, “, she said softly, extending her arms in an invitation. Hannes slid down from the chair and rounded the table, hugging his mother tightly while she smoothed his hair. It was getting long again, she noticed. He pulled away after a minute, finally able to hold her gaze. She smiled at him and put her hands on his shoulders. “You know your mom loves you right? “

He blushed a bit at that. “I do…“, he whispered back, embarrassed by the show of affection.

“Look, mommy has an important meeting now, so why don’t you run to your father. He should be in his office. “ He nodded eagerly, happy to get out of her piercing eyes, but almost squeaked when she pressed a kiss to his cheek. Mikasa let go, and he bolted to the door, but before he could go through her voice stopped him. “And Hannes, tell your father everything, okay? “, seeing his face fall, she wiggled her finger at him. “You know we don’t keep secrets in our family. “ He mumbled something, but she wasn’t satisfied by that. “What was that? “

“I said I know, mom. I’ll tell him. “

“That’s my boy. “, Mikasa nodded. “Now run along. “

Hannes supposed that most of the other kids would get lost at the military HQ. Then again, their parents weren’t working in the army, while his spend their whole lives in the service. The massive building was basically his third home, after their house in the city and the farm by the ocean. He ran through the corridors as a child and learned to navigate through the maze at early age. Still, a kid in an army building drew a few surprised looks, though only until they realized who he is. No one tried to stop him. But all his knowledge proved to be useless, because when he reached his father’s office, he found it empty. Hannes scratched the back of his head, looking at the space where his dad could usually be found, with its weird skeleton in the corner and drawings of internal organs on the walls. Others could find the pictures disgusting, but not him. He helped his father in his doctor work often and wasn’t at all put off by the sight of blood. What to do? Mom was at a meeting, dad was nowhere to be found, who could he ask for help? Hannes snapped his fingers and left the empty office, making way to the person who will definitely know what to do.

The door creaked, and Levi let out a frustrated groan. Who in seven hells was interrupting his tea break? He glanced to the entrance, ready to let the unfortunate individual know just how much he hated being bothered during his pause, but when he saw who entered, his temper cooled. Hannes looked like such a perfect combination of his parents, it was damn near impossible not to notice. Eren’s face, with a tiny bit slanted eyes caused by Mikasa’s Asian half, topped by the unruly mop of hair his father had, only colored in the midnight black of his mother. Not wanting to sound too happy about the sudden visit, he forced his voice to appear as bored as possible.

“What do you want kid? Can’t you see I’m busy? “

Hanne’s eyes slid over the squeaky-clean room, the tidy table with the tea plate exactly in the middle, accompanied by a singular spoon on a white napkin. “But you aren’t doing anything. “ he said with the innocence of a child. Levi forced out an annoyed sigh, carefully putting his cup down.

“I’m on a break, so I don’t have to listen to angry brats who barge in on me without knocking. Now spit out what you want, so I can send you packing as soon as possible. “

Hannes forced himself not to giggle when he heard the tone of the old man’s voice. He always managed to sound like he doesn’t care one bit about you, and that whatever you need is completely and utterly not worth his time and attention. It was funny. “I can’t find my dad; do you know where he is? “

“What am I, his babysitter? “, Levi replied, but seeing that Hannes didn’t move from his spot, he sighed. “Can’t you go bother your mom? “

“She’s meeting the queen. She’s the one who told me to go to dad, but now I can’t find him, so I don’t know what to do. “

With a groan of utmost frustration, Levi pushed himself upright, grabbing the cane and walking over to the door where the kid was standing. “Come on, let’s go ask Hange. If anyone knows where Eren is, its her. “ Hannes hurried after the old man, the taps of the cane against the floor giving their walk a rhythm.

He supposed that others could find the old commander scary, with his permanent scowling and the massive scar that divided his face in two. He always wondered if it has something to do with the name. His mother’s maiden name was Ackerman, same as Levi’s, and they both had scarred faces. Although the one mom had was small, just an old cut on the cheek, while the commander’s was big and scary, and he never even tried to hide it. Whatever the reason was, he wore it as a badge of honor. But Hannes knew that under the cold visage, Levi was a lot of fun. While never showing affection in public, he often gave him piggyback rides when they were alone and talked at length about whatever topic Hannes wanted to know about, being a well of knowledge to the younger man. When he asked his mother, why Levi is so cold in public, her lips twitched, and she said that it’s because he’s a bitter old midget, but dad ruffled Hannes’s hair and explained that the commander was always like that.

When they reached Hange’s office, Levi didn’t even bother with knocking and opened the door, walking in like he owned the place. Her office was a complete opposite of his. Messy with stacks of paper lying everywhere, that combined with vials and bottles of questionable liquids made for a lab where the tiniest of breezes could equal to a massive explosion. But Hange seemed right in her element, smiling when she saw the pair enter and pushed the glasses up on her nose.

“Hannes! Levi! What brings two such handsome men to me? Oh don’t just stand there, come give your auntie a hug! “

Ears burning, Hannes crossed the distance to her and she wrapped her hands around him, squeezing him into a tight hug before letting go. “Oh my, you grow so fast. “, she said and pinched his cheek.

“You saw me a week ago. “, Hannes pointed out, covering the abused area with a palm of his hand.

“That’s why I’m saying that you grow fast. “, she said and pinched the other one, “Did Mikasa send you to check on your sister? She’s not here right now, I have her running some errands for me. “

It was a rather unnatural thing, for a girl who should be in school to be working full time in the science division of the military, but Carla was simply too smart. With school boring her, she went to Hange and begged for her to take her as an assistant, because she was fascinated with her work. The older woman, who was intrigued with the oldest child of the Ackerman-Yeager family ever since she was a baby, quickly agreed and took her on. Mikasa was originally against the idea of her firstborn to go and live in the barracks with the scientist, but Carla begged her until she gave in. So now she was working with Hange 24/7, and rumors were that she is being groomed as her successor. Before Hannes could answer, Levi stepped in.

“We are looking for Eren, do you know where he is? “

“Oh…“, Hange’s face grew a bit more serious, “There was an accident at the barracks, explosion. Gas leak or something. Eren was summoned to patch it up. “

“Really, they need him to take care of a wall? Using the Warhammer as a mason? “

“No, it’s not like that. “, the scientist shook her head, “They could do it on their own, but when they use him its done in a few minutes, and we don’t waste any resources. “

Levi snorted, still clearly not 100% on board with the tactics that were being implemented but decided not to comment. “So he’s out in the fields? “

“Yep. Should be around the barracks. “

With a word of thanks and last pinch of Hannes’s cheek, they were out of the office and walking towards the exit from the building. The younger man half expected that Levi will just say that he can find his father on his own and leave, but the rhythmic taping of the cane didn’t change as the old soldier walked down the stairs.

There was a column of smoke coming from one of the buildings, clear indication where to go. About halfway there, they noticed a figure coming in their direction. Tall and long-haired, Eren Ackerman-Yeager’s broad shoulders filled the uniform in a way that turned the young recruit’s heads, as he said one evening, laughing, which in turn made Mikasa frown and mutter that “they can try”. She kept frowning until Eren kissed her all over the face, which made her giggle and she told him to stop in the voice that suggested that she doesn’t really want him to stop, so he swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. After a while, she started making those weird noises again, so Hannes took Annie and Erwin and went to play outside, because how are you supposed to focus on anything with your mother moaning just a few rooms away. Hannes crossed the remaining distance in a run, and when he reached his father, Eren picked him up, swinging him around.

“Captain, it’s good to see you. “, he said when he noticed Levi standing there, leaning on his cane.

“I’m not captain, not for a good few years, Yeager. “

“And I’m not just Yeager anymore. “, Eren smiled, raising his hand to let the sun glitter on the golden ring on his finger, “But I guess old habits die hard, don’t they. “

Levi shook his head and turned around, walking back to the HQ, his mission done and Eren redirected his eyes to his son. “Hannes, shouldn’t you be at school? What happened? “ Seeing him turn his gaze downwards and mumble something incoherent while kicking a patch of grass, he knew something was up. “It’s awfully hot today, wouldn’t you say? “. That got the child’s attention, and he looked up. Eren flashed him a grin. “Want to grab some ice cream? “

The sun was awfully active today, but with the cold substance in his belly and lying on the warm grass, it wasn’t so bad, Hannes decided. Even since they grabbed their treats and Eren found them a patch of ground to lay down on, his father didn’t ask him anything. They just ate in silence, and now he had his eyes closed, resting in silence. “Aren’t you going to ask about the school stuff? “, Hannes said, unable to keep his mouth closed anymore.

“I figured you’ll tell me once the time will be right. “, Eren replied, cracking one eye open.

Hannes dug his fingers into the ground, tearing out a patch of grass and circling the blades around his finger. “I…I got into a fight. “

“Hmmm. “

“I didn’t want to! But…“

“But what? “

Hannes sighed. Can’t keep silent forever. “He said that you are a monster, and mom is freak. That neither of you are normal. “

Eren slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, turning to face his son. He watched him play with the grass, eyes downcast once more. “Well, we aren’t ordinary, that’s a fact. But tell me, do you think I’m a monster? “

Hannes looked up, meeting his fathers gaze. He knew about his shifter abilities, of course he did. Eren took him to a forest clearing about three years back, and shifted, not wanting to be any secrets between them. And yes, he was scared at the start, when there was a fifteen meters tall monster looking at him, but then he noticed that it has the same eyes as his father and overcame his fear. It wasn’t easy, but he managed to do it, and was rewarded with the best view of his life when Eren put him on the titan’s shoulder. So yes, his father had certain abilities that other people didn’t have. But he would never call him a monster. “No, I don’t. But dad, what about other people. Why do they think you are one? “

Eren sighed, shifting a bit on the ground. This was a difficult question, especially trying to explain it to a person as young as Hannes might be tricky, but he would do his best. “You know about the war, right? “, he began.

Hannes nodded. It was something no one liked to talk about, but it was real. The war between Marley and Eldia, short but bloody, the one where a lot of people died, including Annie and Erwin, the people who his siblings were named after. It was the war that gave Levi the scar on his face, and it scarred his mother too. Not just the cut on her cheek, but multiple bigger ones on her body, including a massive cut on her abdomen.

“Well, in war, there are always two sides. “, his father continued, “and to win, we sometimes have to do things we wouldn’t do otherwise, things that in peace would be called a murder, genocide, crimes against humanity. You know, Hannes, the day Carla was born was both the best and the worst day of my life. I loved her, and I loved her mother, but I hated myself for being so weak that I gave into my feelings. I brought a child into a world that hated us, one that would do everything in its power to stomp us out. And to top that all off, there was the time limit of the curse over my head, ticking away day by day. “ Eren leaned in a bit, his eyes burning with intensity, and Hannes knew to listen carefully. Because his father didn’t get so serious often, but when he did, he had a good reason to be. “Back in the days, I was the one who made the first move. I crossed the ocean and started the war. And during it, both me and your mother have done unspeakable things. We killed a lot of people, ended lives whose only crime was that they stood on the other side than we did. So, if you ask almost anyone outside of this island, if I am a monster, they will say yes. Eren Yeager is the devil of Paradis, after all. That is the truth. “

There was silence after his words. Hannes slowly digested the information, while Eren leaned back on his arms. It was still hard to talk about the war, even years after it ended. But he was glad that he didn’t lie to his son, he told him the truth, however harsh it may sound.

“But dad, “, the young voice grabbed his attention, “you aren’t Eren Yeager anymore. “ A small hand wrapped around his finger, around the ring that sat there. “You are Ackerman-Yeager now. We all are. “

The former devil of Paradis tipped his head back and laughed, before hugging his son and standing up. He put the small body on his back, and started walking back towards the HQ, feeling somehow lighter in his step.

“Hey, Hannes? “

“Yes dad? “

“Did you win the fight? “

“I broke his nose. “

Eren knew that he shouldn’t, but he still felt a swell of pride in his chest.

“Good one. “

“Did you have a good talk? “

“Yep. Apparently he broke the other kid’s nose. “

“Eren! We are not supposed to be happy about that. “

“Oh right, sorry. “

Mikasa sighed on her seat in front of the mirror where she was brushing her hair. Now that she didn’t have to worry about it getting caught in the 3DM gear anymore, she let it grow out, and it was past her shoulders, a cascade of black silk. Eren was watching her from their bed, lying on his back with his arms behind his head.

“Why did the fight even start? What happened? “, she asked.

“Oh, you know. I am a monster, and you are a freak. Nothing new. “

She shook her head. Just a few years since the end of the war, and some people have already forgotten how much they both sacrificed for this peace. They bled for this land, just to be insulted. As always, Eren seemed to have sense her bad mood, and left the bed to put his arms on her shoulders.

“Honey, what’s wrong? And don’t say it’s just the Hannes thing, I can feel that something happened. “

The disadvantages of marrying your best friend since childhood. He knew you better than you knew yourself.

“It’s Kiyomi again. She sent another letter. “

“The usual? “

“Yes. Demanding that I come to Hizuru to claim my heritage as a princess. To divorce you and abandon all my children, to marry a pure blooded Asian and carry out my duty. The classic. “

“You have to hand it to the woman, she’s tireless. “

“It’s just annoying. “ Mikasa shook her head, “I told her countless times that I’m happily married, that I love my children and yes, I plan to have more and no I won’t leave them. “

In her brooding, she didn’t even notice Eren bending down until he pressed a kiss to her neck, the one that made her whole body shiver. “Plan to have more children? “, he whispered into her ear, grin on his face.

“Maybe…“, she whispered back, unable to keep herself from smiling.

“Well, we better get on it then. “, he said, and soon Mikasa forgot all of her troubles.

The weird noises were coming from their parent’s bedroom again, but it was happening too often for the kids to care. Hannes sat on his bed, staring at Annie who was mirroring him across the room, while Erwin was sleeping soundly between them.

“You are stupid. “, he whispered, “Everyone knows Levi is the strongest soldier. “

“He’s old and walks with a cane. “ Annie scrunched her nose, “Mom could beat him, easy. She always beats dad when they spar. “

“He’s letting her win; don’t you see the way he smiles every time she pins him to the floor. He’s enjoying it for some reason. “

“No he isn’t. “

“Yea he is. “

“You just like Levi because he said you might join his squad once you grow up. “

“And you keep saying mom is the best because you look like her. “ That was the truth, Annie was really the perfect small copy of Mikasa.

She threw her long black hair back and frowned at her older brother. “I’m saying mom is the best because she is. And I’ll train with her until I am the best soldier, just you wait. “

“No, I’ll be the best soldier. You can’t beat me, I’m stronger. “

“Just you wait. “, she repeated and turned her back, clearly done with the conversation. Hannes followed suit, stifling back a yawn. He WILL become the strongest soldier in the world, to make mom and dad happy, Annie can be the second best.

Just watch him.

#fanfic #eremika #prompt #oneshot

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jloves-pp · 6 years

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The Lassie in the Cove-part 8

Chapter 8

It had being many years since Merida and Hiccup met and Hiccup had become a Selkie himself. The couple and Toothless had made it to Merida's home, Hiccup and Toothless were welcomed with opened arms and had become part of the family, which made him content because after the loss of his father. It had taken a while to get used to life as a Selkie but with Merida and her families help he had manage it. Even though the King wasn't sure about the once human Selkie boy (it's normal for fathers to worry about their daughters) he had started to warm to Hiccup and now he thought that not all humans were monsters after all. As for the Queen, she treated him like her own son and was secretly glad that Merida would have a good influence in her life.

As for Merida and Hiccup, their love was still as strong as ever and the pair were inseparable. Even though they appeared to be polar opposites they were drawn together. They never tired of each other's company and they never seemed to have a dull moment when together.

They would go on adventures with Toothless of course. They explored the ocean, near home and further afield. They found hidden treasures, lost cities and magnificent creatures. They went to islands that Hiccup could have never imagined, beaches with white sand and seas that were clear and blue. They found hidden grottos with amazing waterfalls, beautiful lagoons with the fascinating flowers and underwater caves with crystals, which no human had ever touched.

For a while Hiccup and Toothless missed flying, because Hiccup couldn't control Toothless's tail wing and the metal bracket had began to rust. One day Hiccup was moving his fins, as was the dragon with his tail, when he realised that their tails moved in the same way. He planned to make a device that could be controlled by his fin but he didn't have any tools to make it. It was Merida who suggested that he should make his own blacksmith shop, he soon got to work and had all the equipment he needed. After weeks of hard work and a lot of trial and error, Toothless' new tail was finished. They flew as fantastical as before, Merida even invited her family to watch Hiccup and Toothless in action. Fergus was really impressed and the triplets immediately wanted to have a go. Elinor however wasn't sure it was safe but after riding with her daughter, she changed her mind as well.

Now that flying was possible again, Hiccup, Merida and Toothless would travel to islands, seeing the different plant life, wild birds and animals and so much more that Merida had imagined existing. She began to collect seeds from fruits and vegetables and planted them in a patch of earth inside the cave which was their place. It was where Hiccup's blacksmith shop was, which had soon become the teens hangout. They had made a sitting place with pillows and sheets and other pretty things that made it quite homely. The Night Fury also had a space for himself where he could sleep and eat his fish. There were lots of wild flowers growing on the cave wall that added colour to the place. There was also a bedroom just in case Hiccup was working into the night, Merida would sleep on the bed. It was big enough for both them and they would lay there together, relaxing and cuddling. Sometimes they would end up falling asleep and waking up the next morning.

For a long time many people didn't understand what their princess saw in Hiccup. Even if they whispered or made fun of him, he didn't care because he was with his best friend and the love of his life. After solving some of the merpeople problems with dragons and providing help with repairs, Hiccup soon gained repect and praise from the merpeople and other Selkies. A few years had passed, Merida thought Hiccup had become even more handsome. Even the young girls started sighing and became giddy when he was around. One day Hiccup was swimming with Merida, they passed a group of young girls who had crushes on Hiccup, he gave a friendly wave and that was enough to make one of them faint, the young couple thought it was odd but they dismissed this behaviour because they thought the girls were joking about. As they had only eyes for each other, many young people hoped at that they would find the same love and joy that the two had.

When Merida just turned 21, that was when Hiccup ask her to married him. Of course she said yes and they were wedded two months later. They didn't want the usual grand ceremony as they didn't want fuss or to be the centre of attention. They were secretly married by a priest they had saved from drowning with Toothless as witness. They had a grand celebration with Merida's family, it was one of the best days ever.

Hiccup had worried in the past about having children, so imagine the look on his face when Merida told him that she was pregnant. He should have known because she had been acting a bit oddly and she'd been asking for a lots of apples. Merida and Hiccup loved their young pup even before she was born and needless to say how happy they were when 9 months later their little baby girl was born. She was beautiful, she had a round face and button nose just like her mum. She had Hiccups brown straight hair, his tail colour and his green eyes. To her parents, she was the most perfect thing ever; they both knew that she was very special, they named her Ardra (which means Nobel). All family members could see parts of her personality that were similar to theirs. Fergus actually said that she had her father's heart and her mother's spirit. The Selkie couple enjoyed taking Ardra on adventures on land as well as sea, she was showing signs of being as adventurous and a lover of finding new things as her parents were.

Merida loved being a mum, just holding her baby and kissing her in a lovely motherly way, especially when they had quiet times together, like feeding times. Hiccup loved playing games and making his little girl laugh, even though Ardra was small that didn't stop him from teaching her about dragons, which she enjoyed a lot. Toothless also loved the wee baby. At Ardra's nap time it had become a habit for Toothless to cuddle up with her and fall asleep. He loved giving her rides either on his head in the water or up in the air (it was obvious that Ardra loved flying just as much as her parents).

Occasionally Hiccup would wonder about his old life. He thought about Berk and his old friends. Had they looked for him?, Did they believe that he was dead? Or had they move on? But Hiccup still never wanted to go back. Why would he? He had his best friend, his beloved daughter and the woman who he loved. He had a new life now.

When Ardra was about 10 months old, the family were having a day in their cave. Hiccup was at his desk, finishing plans to show the King new homes to build for the merpeople. Merida was feeding their baby in their sitting area she had closed her eyes. Hiccup turned and looked at his girls, Hiccup loved them so much and enjoyed drawing them both together. He slipped from the desk into the water, he swam up near them and smiling at them. Just then, Ardra turned her head and saw her daddy.

"Hey there sweetheart, how was your nap?" he asked softly. His baby didn't say anything but smiled and then she slowly crawled out of her mother's arms, her tail dragging on the smooth rock as she crawled to Hiccup. The young dad smiled proudly at his daughter as she began to move on her side and roll the rest of the way. Hiccup caught her before she fell into water.

"Oh there, Good job, my clever girl" he chuckled before giving a kiss on his little girl forehead.

The Selkie girl began babbling happily, she loved being hugged by her daddy. As he held her up, Hiccup started to move his finger up and down on her lips, making cute babbling noise to Ardra. The baby laugh as she grabbed his finger, he couldn't help but smile with the child as he rubbed his nose to hers. She turned her attention to the water, the end of her small tail flicking in the water, he knew what she wanted.

"All right, here you go" he chuckled. He moved the baby above the water and she dived perfectly into the water. He saw his pup swimming round and round about and then in a circle underneath him. Even though Ardra was just a wee babby, she was a wonderful swimmer, she was fast and it was hard to catch her but Merida was quicker and always caught her.

Soon Ardra jumped out and into her dad's arms. "You're getting better everyday Ardra" he said as he rubbed his nose to Ardra's nose. Ardra began to giggly when Hiccup brush his thumb on her cheek,

"I guess your ticklish aren't you" Hiccup asked with grin "Are you ticklish here?" He started tickling her neck which made her giggle. "Or are you ticklish here?" He moved his fingers to under her arm, that made Ardra laugh even more. "No wait, I remember now. You're ticklish right about..." And he tickled her all over. Ardra laughed so much as he kissed her gently on the cheek.

Merida woke and find them both playing together, she loved to watch her two favourite people interacting. She couldn't think of life without them both, Merida thought she was luckiest woman in the world.

Merida laughed at the scene and it caught the attention of her husband and child. The Selkie baby look upside down at her, a smiled soon appeared on her face as well as on Hiccup's.

"Hello Milady"

"Hello to you my dear" Merida replied, putting Ardra upright, Hiccup swam to Merida. He handed their daughter to her which she happily recieved. "Were you having fun with your daddy" she said sweetly to her pup, hugging her close as Ardra place her tiny head on her mother's shoulder. The young mum softly brushed her thumb on her baby's cheek, looking into her eyes.

Merida felt Hiccup's hand on top for her. She intertwined her fingers with his.

"Hey Merida, you know we still have time before we go home. Is there anything you would like to do?" Hiccup asked. Merida thought as she placed Ardra down next to them.

"I don't know, Toothless is busy on the island so we can't go flying off to any land and we've been to our favourite places already " The Selkie woman said thinking a loud, all the while Ardra was holding her tail in her mouth and was chewing it.

"Well, what about the lake, we haven't been there for a while. What do you think?" he suggested. Merida thought about it, the lake was a Selkies secret place, where Selkies had celebrations.

"I think that's a grand idea" she said with a smile. Merida then turned to see Ardra now playing with an apple as if it were a ball.

"Ardra" Merida softly said, The little girl turned to her mum. "Would you like to visit the lake before we return home".

The Selkie baby squealed, in approval Merida handed Ardra to Hiccup before she slipped into the cool water, she lent over and gave her husband a quick kiss and then they all dove under. They swam out from the underwater entrance, passing the sealife and fish. Ardra laughed at some fish that were swimming by.

They soon arrived at the lake, when they surfaced Merida fixed her hair which was over her face. Ardra mimicked her, both of them chuckled at this. They didn't waste a single second as the wee baby began to play she swam to and from them, then they had a splash fight (the grown Selkies had to be careful not to splash Ardra so much), then exploring some ancient ruins that had sunk hundreds of years ago and Hiccup threw Ardra in to the air, she shrieked with delight. They found themselves at a small arch of rocks. The grown Selkies were sitting on a flat rock while they proudly watched their giggly child paddling and splashing around. Hiccup had one arm around his wife while Merida relaxed her head on his shoulder.

"You know Mer, today is actually a very special day" He said. She looked to him, wondering what he was talking about. She knew it wasn't anyone birthday or their wedding anniversary.

"Of course I remember" she replied with confidence but Hiccup knew she didn't. He raised an eyebrow.

"Do you?" He asked and soon Merida sighed

"No, I'm sorry".

"Well" he began softly "today is the anniversary of the day when we first met".

His wife started to smile before she laughed softly. "Has it being that long?".

"Yeah, look how far we're come" he said as he remember that day. If Merida had never ran away, she wouldn't have met Hiccup, wouldn't have fallen in love or wouldn't had save him.

"Hiccup, are you happy?. Like truly happy?" Merida asked feely a bit nervous. Hiccup gave a look of concern and his eye brows furrowed,

"What's wrong?"

She took both of his hands into hers and took a deep breath. " it's just...I feel like I've robbed your old life from you...and I'll never forgive myself. It was supposed that we chose to be together." Merida confessed with tears rolling down her cheeks. "I didn't know if..."

She didn't finished because Hiccup gently place his hand on her face. "Merida, you saved me" Hiccup explained softly "You've gave me a second chance of life. We have our child and these years have been the greatest years of my life, because I have you" Merida slowly smiled at Hiccup and squeezed his hand. "I said I was forever grateful to you and I'm still am. If it wasn't for you, I would be at the bottom of the sea"

She then realised something "And if you never came to the cove, I'd still been there and who knows what would happened" how funny fate is she thought. They slowly leant forward and kissed. They held each other close, their embrace grew their tails coiling one around the other. When they parted and Hiccup gently moved some of Merida's curls away from her face.

"So, does that show you I love you" Hiccup softly said, then he whispered in her ear "Or do you need more proof", Merida giggled like a school girl, she loved it when Hiccup was romantic. moments like this alway made her bliss.

Mischievously Merida said "You'll have to catch me first", she jumped into the water with Hiccup right after her. The duo began a darting around, underwater, passing the rocks and ruins. She peeked from behind rocks and nudged her husband with her tail. They laughed and chased each other for what seemed like ages. What They did not realising, whose that Ardra had swam away and she had reached the shore. The little girl was laying flat on the sand, looking at pretty seashells and pebbles. She saw a tiny crab scuttle by and was trying to catch it. Ardra babbled in her infant talk when she heard a loud noise from the rocks nearby. It was seals, real seals. There was a group from them, all different shapes and sizes. A few smaller seals lifted their heads they had spotted the baby Selkie, she waved to them. They soon moved over sand to Ardra giggled happily at them and rubbed their noses.

They weren't alone on the beach, nearby two young children were playing together while their mother was resting.

"You can't catch me, Edward" cried the small blonde haired girl as she ran from her big brother.

"Oh yes, I will Camicazi and when I do, you'll be sorry" the dark haired boy said as they ran over the hill and saw the lake. The two of them had stopped, they were both panting trying to catch their breaths. It was then that Camicazi saw the seals, lying on the sand. The seals soon spotted them and took fright, they rushed away diving into the water as quickly as they could. There was just one seal left, a funny looking one the girl thought because it was an unusual colour. This made her curious. Edward had turned and walked back, but his little sister slowly walked closer.

"Come on, mum will wonder where we are", he called but she carried on closer to the seal. As Camicazi got nearer, she could see more clearly. It was a little baby with a tail. Ardra turned and spotted the wild haired girl. They stared at each other for a long time until the human took another step, this startled the Selkie, her eyes wide she quickly wriggled into the sea. Camicazi was about to race after it when...

"Camicazi, what are you doing", Edward called as he caught up with her. " mum will freak if we..",

"Didn't you see it", she asked which made Edward look at her strangely.

"See what?" He questioned.

"The baby mermaid, I saw a baby mermaid", she explained pointing at the sea.

"What mermaid?" Edward said, Camicazi looked again but there was nothing there.

"But it was there, right there" she pointed where it was and then saw a shadow moving away. "There it goes" she cried and instantly ran after the shadow. Splashing in the water, her brother ran after her, making sure she wasn't going to get in trouble.

Hiccup and Merida, lounged together, Hiccup questioned, "What do you want to do now?"

"Mmm..It depends if you want to or not" she replied in a way that always made Hiccup blush a little.

"When I'm with you, I will always want to", with that they kissed passionately. They couldn't get enough of each other, moments like this were cherished by them.

Before the Selkies could go any further, Merida was distracted she heard a familiar sound "Ardra?" Merida muttered, looking over her husband's shoulder.

"Merida?" He could see worry on her face. Then he heard the sound and it was coming closer. The partners now saw their little girl swimming to them at a top speed. Ardra was crying as she swam straight into her mother's arms and buried her head into Merida's chest.

"Ardra, what's wrong?" Merida softly asked in panic. She looked up to Hiccup who was just as worried. Before either of them could say anything they heard...

"It went this way, I know it" the Selkies immediately dove under.

Luckily, Edward and Camicazi didn't seen them.

"Are you sure what you seen wasn't a seal" Edward asked,

His sister sighed "I did see a mermaid, I really did" before the two could start arguing. They heard a familiar voice calling

"Edward, Cama, where are you?" The kids turned and saw their mum coming around the corner.

"Oh, there you are" she said relieved before she climbed in to join them. "I turned my back for one minute and the two of you run off".

"But...I saw a mermaid, a baby one, on the beach" , Camicazi said pointing her finger to the beach

"Well, she thinks she saw one" Edward explained folding his arms, huffily.

Their mum sighed, they always got into trouble and each were trying to blame the other. "Look, I don't know what you think you saw, and I'm not saying I don't believe you"

"But"

"No buts, from either of you." She said before she hugged them close, but then she saw glints of something behind her children. The mum now has a serious look, her eyes narrowed, "There is something there" she said under her breath.

Camicazi and Edward looked at one another, they knew when she looked like that, she meant business. "Stay here and don't move" as she took out her axe on her belt, she quietly moved to the spot that she had seen something.

The Selkies were hiding with their backs against the rocks. They watched, hoping they would leave so they could leave. They couldn't go now incase they would be killed. Hiccup held Merida close as she held Ardra to her chest. "When do you think they will leave", Merida asked in a whisper, the pair were frozen, too scared to move.

"I not sure" Hiccup replied as he looked upward as well. They weren't sure if whoever it was had gone or not, " I'll go and check, you stay here".

"Ur.. Maybe we should wait a little longer" Merida replied.

"Mer, I'll be quick" Hiccup said, but then saw a worried look on her face. "What's wrong" he could tell even if underwater that she was crying.

Since that day a long time ago, The Selkie had made sure that her Hiccup was safe. Once or twice they had been in dangerous situations but they had always came out of it. Still she feared that one day he would be taken from her.

"Hiccup, I don't want you to go. What if they kill you?"

Little Ardra didn't understand what was going on but she could sense that something bad would happen if her dad left them. She was crying too.

"Sh, sh, please don't you start" Hiccup reassured as he softly brushes her check "I get enough from your mum" this made his wife smile. He placed a hand softly to Merida's shoulder, " Merida, please know that I will always come back to you, always"

Merida knew that he was right and he would do his best to keep them safe. She looked into his eyes, she loved him and he loved her.

"I know you will Hic"

Hiccup return the smile, he then gently place a hand on his little princesses cheek.

" Look after her while I'm gone, OK" Ardra held one of his fingers in her tiny grip and gurgled to him in her infant language, The Selkie man leant in as Ardra reach out and touched his face. Hiccup gave his daughter a kiss on her forehead. He then turned to his wife, after a moment Hiccup swam up an broke the surface. Merida and Ardra could only watch as he went, Merida hope things would be alright.

Hiccup made it out and went behind a rock. He didn't see anyone or anything so he thought who ever it was had left. He sighed in relief, just before he return to his family, he heard.

"Whoever you are, you better show yourself"

Hiccup's eyes widened. He knew that voice, it been years but still he knew that voice.

"Astrid, stop".

The woman froze. Had she imagined it? She never thought she would hear that voice again. "Hiccup?" She asked softly, as she slowly walked around the rock, and there he was. Astrid mouth dropped, is was really him. Of course his looks had slightly changed but there was no mistaking, she wanted to say something but nothing came out.

Finally Hiccup broke the silence by saying cheerful

"Hi Astrid",

Astrid lost her grip on the axe she was holding and fell with a clank.

"Bu...but...you...what...we thought...you were dead" Was all she could say.

"Well, I'm alive and well" he chuckled lighting the mood, which make his old friend laugh a little.

"I just can't believe that you're alive", Astrid said, then she notices his tail "And with a tail"

"Yeah, it's a long story" he admitted while he rubbed his hand through his hair.

Astrid mind whirled she had thousands of questions to ask him, not knowing where to start. Finally one did come to her "Where's Merida? Is she here?"

Hiccup remembered that she was still hiding. He'd have to tell her about this.

"Oh, she here, I'll go and get her. Be right back" The Viking woman watched in awe as Hiccup swam and dove down under the water.

Ever since the awful day, Astrid had hoped that Hiccup had survived. She had always hoped the Selkie would find him and save him from dead. Now finding Hiccup here and being a Selkie himself, she couldn't wish for any thing better. She was truly thankful to Merida.

"Mum", Astrid heard, it snapped her out of her thoughts. She had forgotten about her children. Edward and Camicazi ran around the corner after waiting for a while "Mum, are you all right?" her little boy asked as he and his sister hugged her close. Astrid hugged them back and softly kiss them each on the forehead.

"I'm fine, wonderful actually" she replied after she pulled back to look happily at them.

"So, was it a mermaid" Camicazi asked hopping with excitement.

"Well, not exactly but you were nearly right".

"What", Edward said looking baffled.

Astrid rubbed her son's black hair, "You'll soon see".

As for Hiccup, he soon returned to Merida and Ardra. Merida was relieved to see her husband was alive and well "Hiccup", she called as she swam to him. Their baby also was happy to see her dad return. Hiccup embrace them both.

"Have the humans left?" she asked wondering what happened.

"You'll never believe who it is" Hiccup said with a smile.

Merida was confused. They didn't go near humans so who was Hiccup talking about?

"Who?" She asked but Hiccup had taken her hand and lead her to surface with the wee baby still in her arms, who was also confused about what was going on.

Astrid turned to the water and saw Hiccup and Merida appear.

"Astrid" Merida said in relief and surprise, Astrid returned Merida's with her own smile.

"Nice to see you again, Merida. It's been too long"

"Much to long" the two ladies chuckled happily and Hiccup was grinning at the pair. Edward and Camicazi were gob smacked by the couple with tails, they just stood and stared with their mouths open. Edward tried to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"Mum, do you know them?" Camicazi asked looking at to Astrid.

She knelt to her daughter level,

"These, are good friends of mine from long ago" she answered.

"And who are these two?" Hiccup asked which made both kids jump.

"Well, this is Edward and this is Camicazi" Astrid said.

They both said hello before the little girl spotted Ardra, curled up to her mum.

"You see, see. I told you, a baby mermaid!" Camicazi shouted proudly, she liked it when she was right.

"Actually, she's a baby Selkie" Merida said, smoothing her daughter's hair "Ardra, why don't you said hello" she said softly. Soon the little creature turned her head and saw them, at first, nothing happen but then...

"Hello there", Edward said quietly as he waved to her "I'm Edward and this is my sister" and he urged Camicazi to join him,

"Hi, I'm sorry I scared you. I've never seen someone like you before", she explained. Just after she said that, Ardra slowly smiled to them. she was happy to make new friends.

After that, the children began to mix they started to swim and play together happily, while their parents were catching up on old times.

"So, Lady Macintosh, it must be hard", Merida said when Astrid was telling about her marriage.

"Yeah but he is a good man and I do as much as he does, we are a very good match" Astird said with a grin, " I'm surprised about all the places you guys have been to though".

Hiccup nodded " I know, I never imaged places like that existed", he had his arms around Merida as he and Astrid watch their children playing tag. The two humans swam slowly, so the baby Selkie could catch them more easily.

"Well I'm just glad you're alright, we were searching for you for weeks, then we decided we had to move on. We do miss you Hiccup", Astrid added.

"I miss them too" Hiccup said regretfully, Merida felt his hand intertwining with hers "but I'm happy here and I never want to change that".

"I know you are", Astrid said softly, She could see how happy his new life was, that is all she wanted for him. Just then, they saw Ardra slowly swimming up to them, she looked so tired. Merida held her up and saw that the sun was setting.

"It's getting late" she said to her husband.

"You'e right, we should getting back" he replied.

"Well, it is time for us to go home too" Astird said her kids groaned at this.

"But we want to stay longer" Camicazi said sleepily. Her mum wrapped warm clothes around them both.

"I think you dad will be really worried about us if we don't go home soon" Astird said combing her small blonde hair girl's hair with her fingers.

"I don't want dad to worry", Edward said "Do you think dad will send the army to look for us?"

Merida and Hiccup had both slipped into water before they turned again to Astird and her chrildren.

" I wish I saw Toothless again" Astird said.

"Well maybe next time" Hiccup reassured her.

"Will we see you again" Camicazi asking hugging her mum.

"Maybe one day, just keep your eyes on the sea. You never know what's waiting", Merida said which made the little girl smile.

They said their goodbyes and Astird and her children watched the Selkies swim to the mouth of the lake. Hiccup and Merida waved to them, Ardra was asleep they slipped into the water and then disappeared from sight. Edward and Camicazi asked their mum about them on they way home, she told them the whole story which they wanted to hear again and again. The two grew up and have children of their own, they told the story which turned a legend. The legend about a boy the son of Chief Stoik the Vast who was an unlikely hero, he trained dragons who became past of the tribe, he found his true love a Selike in a cove, who saved his life and gave him a new family and a new way of living.

The end

#mericcup #Merida #hiccup #brave #how to train your dragon #selkie #fanfic

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illyrian-of-themyscira · 7 years

Text

A Court of Lost Things

THIRD PART

“What do you mean ‘this world’?” The queen hisses at me.

“I’m from Prythian which is a continent connected to the human lands. I have a whole map on all of our continents. And trust me my father and mother made me learn it, but I have never seen anywhere called ‘Terrasen’. Even in the courts: there is night, day, dawn, spring, summer, autumn, and winter. No Terrasen. In the night court all we have are mountains where the Illyrians camp. Forests where dangerous things roam but great for training and thinking. Velaris our shining city, where the rainbow sits. The music pouring through the warm evening. My mom’s shop open and cheerful. Or the warm ocean that you can just lose yourself in…” I trail off realizing I am rambling on. There goes the confidence I had in me. My wings droop as I look around to see everyone staring at me. I see sympathy and understanding, especially in the queen and the male who looks a lot like her. Possibly a twin. “I just want to go home,” I say quietly.

“Well, little bat, all I can do is offer my sympathies and our library. Also my charming and handsome presence,” Calev winks at me. I feel a curt reply on my tongue but I swallow it, drooping my shoulders in submission.

“Just please don’t put me back down there in that dungeon of yours,” my voice sounded small even to my own ears. Thoughts of what happened under the mountain to both of my parents’ weave through my head. I hadn’t been told much about it, although I’ve read a lot about what happened. The trials of my mother, what my father had to endure, it was all so horrifying.

“We won’t put you back there,” the queen said. I look up at her with wide eyes. “I know what it is like to be separated from your home and family. To be locked away, I will not do that to you.” She finishes, her face looking dejected. As if she’s remembering something dark and haunting. The white-haired male - the king - put a hand on her shoulder and looked at her, his face unreadable. The queen turned to face him and nodded, touching his hand on her shoulder. She turns back to me and says, “Sweet girl, we will get you back home.”

I feel tears in my eyes, but I blink them away. “I think you are quite acquainted with my son so he will show you around. And looking at him, he seems to be quite taken with you.” I glance at Calev, who is blushing. It is…very enduring and I wish he would stop. “Calev, maybe try to keep her away from Anya for now.” The queen looked at Calev with a look I couldn’t place and my curious mind took over and asked,

“Who’s Anya?” I had regained my voice again as I look to Calev.

“My pain in the ass sister.” he answered, rolling his eyes.

“Calev!” The king reprimands him.

“Sorry, my pain in the butt sister.”

A disgusted noise comes from the king as Calev comes up to me offering his arm. “Shall we, little bat?”

I glare at him and walk towards the doors without so much as brushing against him. “She’s hot when she gets all high and mighty,” he chuckles. I flip him off and low chuckles from the males in the room have me wanting to punch them. I keep walking and Calev falls in step with me.

“So what would you like to see first? The gardens? Your room, the art gallery, the armory, ballroom, dining room, library, my room?” At the last word, I turned and glare at the male beside me.

“I would like to see the art gallery.” It seemed to be the closest I was getting to home at the moment and right now, I really wanted to be somewhere that reminds me of home. “Also, you don’t happen to have anywhere I could swim, do you?”

“Oh, maybe a late night swim under the starry stars? Possibly naked? Hopefully naked?”

“Don’t be a pervert, Calev.”

“I like the way you say my name,” his voice holds none of the smugness he usually speaks with but as if it’s something that amazes him and I choose to ignore it. Relationships would not be good between worlds, especially when I won’t be staying here for long. More pain just did not seem worth whatever we would have together.

As we walk in silence, it becomes awkward and I try to shake out my wings to give me something to do but unfortunately, my spectacular wingspan makes it hard to not touch the male beside me. And that thought came to me too late as my wing wraps around Calev, brushing against his shoulder as I try to snap them back in, my face redder than ever.

“I bet you could get into some fun positions with those,” I feel his finger run along the bone in my wing and a sliver of moan escapes my mouth before I can stop it.

“I told you not to do that!”

“Sorry, I am just so curious over them.” He replies as his voice took a tone of wonder

“Well keep your curious hands to themselves.” I said, staring straight ahead. “Are we almost there?”

“Yes, little bat, we are almost there.” I look at him, confused as to why he looks so morose. Asking him would require getting to know him and so I act like I did not want to know and ignore him. We come to a plain wooden door and Calev gestures for me to enter. Inside the room are paintings that are beyond beautiful, sculptures so lifelike I have to look twice, and drawings that look like windows. I started at the first painting and as I make my way through every art pieces, Calev sits on a bench and watches me.

I’m not sure how many hours pass when Calev comes up beside me.

“Seren, dinner is coming soon. I will show you your room.” I nod and we both walk in silence once more. Once at my door he opens it and then tries to guide me in by putting his hand on my lower back gently. I shiver and pull away from the hand as I enter.

“I will get you when it’s time to eat.” He promptly leaves after and it looked like my rejection to his hands made Calev put out. Well…he can suck it up. I cannot afford to have my mind distracted by a man I will likely not see again.

With that thought, I finally look around. My room is small and plain. A muted gold of colour covers the walls. One door lead to a closet and another one to a bathroom. The bed is big enough for two - well two people without Illyrian wings - and the sheets looks so comfortable to lay on. I flop onto the bed with a sigh. As I stare at the roof above me, my mind finally took over and the sobs came. Was my family freaking out? My mother was most likely beyond worry and unable to paint. She was probably searching through the library at this very moment, looking for anything that could help. And my father never sleeps when he has a problem, but even more so when he is scared. I wonder if my mother and and father are holding each other trying not to cry as I had been. Were my aunts fearing for me? Were my uncles? Did the sea miss me? Velaris was probably alive and beautiful, moving on without me there. The creatures roaming the forest went on without me trailing the woods barefoot. A sob wracks through my body again and I wrap my wings around me, my only comfort. I wasn’t sure how long I cried for but all too soon a knock sounds at the door. Wiping my eyes, I stood up and walked over to the door, opening it. Calev stands there, reaching up to rub the back of his neck as he looks down at me.

“Are you ok, little bat?”

“Fine. I’m starving, where’s the food?” He chuckles at me.

“Alright, follow me.” As we start to walk, he looks back at me and says, “although we could stop at my room for a pre-meal.”

“Shut up,” I snarl. His answering chuckle has me smacking his head and Calev looks back at me with wide eyes.

“Did you just smack me?”

“Yes and I will do it again.”

“Well then, the battle begins.”

“What battle-”

Laughter bubbles from my lips as his fingers dig into my sides and starts tickling me. I grip his arms to stop him, about to walk away, but then I decide to enjoy the moment. I haven’t laughed like this for a while. Our moment was cut off when a gasp comes from behind us. Calev and I look up, his arms still wrapped around me, to see a beautiful woman with golden hair.

“Calev what are you doing and who is this…woman,” the female says.

“Mind how you speak sister,” Calev growls. His arms are wrapped around me protectively now.

“What is…she?”

“She is a faerie now go in the dining hall,” he snaps. I step away from Calev, to his dismay.

“I am Seren, you must be Anya. Nice to meet you.” I reach my hand out to shake hers, but she ignores it and replies,

“Yes quite,” she gives me a shrewd look then disappears into the dining hall. I follow her in, not once looking back at Calev. When I walk in, all eyes go to me and I see more people than there was back in the throne room. I don’t dare to meet anyone’s eyes as I walk up to the table as Calev follows and stands next to me.

“You can sit by me, little bat.” I follow Calev to the seat next to him. All eyes are still on me and my legs shakes as I walk from all the attention in the room. And when I sat on the chair, I just wanted the world to swallow me up as my wings awkwardly fit around the chair.

“So what are your powers,” the twin to the queen asks.

“Aedion,” a beautiful dark haired woman reprimands him. She has the most striking green eyes I’ve ever seen.

“My powers?” I close my eyes and call forth some of that night magic within me to show them. This will be the only magic they could know about me, nothing else. Soon the room was filled with a starry night sky, twinkling like a thousand diamonds. Gasps came from those seated at the table.

Good enough for you? I say into Aedion’s mind. I hear him yelp and jump in his seat in surprise. I then slammed the night back into me, opening my eyes.

“You can talk to other people with you mind?” Aedion yelps to me, his eyes wide.

“Among other things,” I smirk at him.

“Wait what?” That came from Calev beside me. My eyes flicking up to him shyly.

Yes, fangs. At that, his lips curl into a smile. Damn it stop flirting, I chastise myself.

Can I send thoughts back to you? The words are garbled but I hear them nonetheless.

Yes.

Perfect. Now you can know what I could do with these fangs. I shivered at the sultry voice through my mind. It was still garbled but now that I let him through my shield, his voice is clearer for me to hear.

“Calev, did you hear what I just said?” the queen asks.

“Sorry what?” Calev turned, stopping our mental conversation.

“We are going to be having a ball next weekend, so you need to start those dancing lessons again with Lysandra.” Calev groaned beside me.

“Come on, we’ll have fun!” Lysandra - the dark haired woman with green eyes - replies cheerfully. She is seated next to Aedion who looked awfully like the Queen, which reminds me-

Am I going to learn anyone’s names? I ask Calev in his mind.

Sorry, they don’t trust you enough yet. I let out a frustrated noise at Calev’s answer and turn back to my plate.

“Would you like lessons too, sweetheart.” My eyes went wide.

“Oh no, I was just…thinking. Sorry.” I stuttered. Calev’s laugh rumbled like thunder beside me and I kick him beneath the table which only has him grinning even more.

“Awe young love,” the wolf male says.

“We don’t need your commentary, Fenrys.” Calev says, still grinning and it occurs to me that he is calling out their names so I will know them. “Anyway, Elide did you get in contact with Manon blackbeak?” He directs this question to another dark haired female who sits next to a dark haired male who is looking very angry for no reason. Is it because of me?

“Not yet,” she says softly. He nods to her in some kind of understanding and I was surprised at the stab of jealousy coursing through me at that. Angry at myself for feeling that kind of emotion, I change the subject.

“So queen…”

Aelin.

“Queen Aelin, about this ball…am I allowed to go?” She looks at the king and they seem to have a silent conversation before-

“I suppose,” she says, turning back to face me.

“Thank you. I have never been to a ball. Only read about them.”

“You’ve never been to a ball!?” Lysandra says, aghast. I shake my head, no. “Anya! We must help this female get ready for the ball! With those wings my dear we could make a beautiful gown.”

“Oh um I can’t put things on my wings,” I say. Calev snorts beside me and I shoot him a look.

“Why not?”

“They are very…sensitive…”

“How so?” Lysandra looking at my wings, asks.

“They just are; I can make them disappear if that would be easier.”

“Oh my dear, I would love to show off your wings so we can just work around them,” Lysandra says.

I nod and murmur a thank you before I excuse myself from dinner and take off for my room. Lysandra reminded me of my aunt Mor and at that thought, it made me feel homesick all over again. Aunt Mor would have loved a ball. Her and Lysandra would make great friends.

Back in my room again, a knock sounds at my door and I put down the book I was reading after marking the page I was on. Opening the door I expected Calev but what I found was Anya, glaring at me.

Written by me! Edited by @crazy-fangirl16. Thinking about putting this up on watt pad but I'm not sure

#acomaf #a court of lost things #feysand #rowaelin #tog #fanfic #mywriting

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