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yumeyooa · 3 years

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hopelessly in love | sakusa kiyoomi

—sakusa’s got a secret: he’s a hopeless romantic; and it’s all thanks to you.

➢ pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x gender neutral! reader

➢ word count: 1.9k+

➢ warning: nothing major :>>

➢ love letter: this was supposed to be a short timestamp but it became a full blown drabble i-- T_T. i absolutely live for the trope wherein kiyoomi is a loving soft person once he’s comfortable so i just indulged myself IM SORRY i hope y’all like it and let me know what you think <33

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Not many people know this, but Sakusa Kiyoomi is a hopeless romantic.

It’s a secret he likes to keep to himself, afraid that if it were to fall on the ears of another, he would never be able to live it down. More so if it were the rowdy bunch he calls a team. He was sure that Atsumu, that insufferable idiot, would tease him for it every chance he got should he have known.

Which was why he keeps it discreet, hiding his wishes and desires behind a cold facade that warranted others to believe that he was anything but hopelessly in love with the idea of romance.

Well, everyone except for you.

The chimes of the bell ring as Sakusa enters your quiet bookstore just ten minutes away from his home. For the longest time, Sakusa had always loved books. They allowed him to indulge in his romantic fantasies without being so overtly apparent to the prying eyes of the world.

“Ah, Kiyoomi! Welcome back!” Like milk and honey, your voice greets him as he enters the place he had considered a paradise for the past two years. You stand up from where you sat on your desk, glasses perched atop your head as you give him a warm smile, causing a fuzzy feeling to grow in his chest.

You and Sakusa go way back, all the way to your days as a book-loving library assistant and a covert volleyball fanatic (not that Sakusa would ever admit it, but you knew better). The two of you had been classmates all throughout your high school journey, and Sakusa considered you to be one of the closest friends he had, even to this day. After all, as time has proven, nothing between the two of you has changed.

Sakusa greets you with a nod, although there’s still a kind glint in his eyes that makes you grin. As a man of few words, Sakusa’s emotions reigned supreme in the hidden crevices of his actions. Sometimes it’d take an expert or a long-time friend to even notice those tiny nuances. However, you had known Sakusa for years. It practically came like second nature to you at this point.

He sets down the book he bought from his last trip-- a translated copy of The Fault in Our Stars. There’s a determined gaze in his eyes as he softly nudges the book to you, and you try to hide your desire to coo at him, waiting for him to speak with a patient smile.

“This,” he finally says, averting his eyes. He was still embarrassed to admit he enjoyed romantic novels, even if it was in front of you. “Are there any more books like this?”

“Plot-wise? Or do you want something from the same author?” You ask curiously, already making your way around the counter to face Sakusa. He looks at you with a shy glance before mumbling “Author,” and you smile once more, gesturing to the tall player to follow you down the aisles.

“Here you go!” You say, handing him a few fresh translated copies of Paper Towns and Looking for Alaska. “These just came in the other day. You’re pretty lucky, Kiyoomi!”

“Thanks,” he mutters as he grabs the books from you gently, fingers hovering over the cover as his heart pumps with excitement at the thought of unwinding himself to another fantastic story. The last one had him hooked until the end, and he had broken his carefully crafted sleep schedule just to finish it. He couldn’t wait to dive into a whole new world waiting for him within the pages of these books.

But most of all, he couldn’t wait to talk about them with you.

With a knowing smile, you quickly usher Kiyoomi into your back office, knowing that the counter wouldn’t need you for a while. No one else would come to your store at 1 in the afternoon, except for the old lady that came by every so often, but she could wait.

“Here,” you say as you hand Kiyoomi a warm cup of tea. “Freshly brewed, just for you!” Kiyoomi smiles, although you don’t see it as it’s hidden by his mask. He removes his mask, placing it gently into the ziplock he had brought with him before grabbing hold of the mug you had specially reserved for him and taking a sip.

It was soothing and relaxing, just the way he liked it. He can feel his muscles relax as he leans back into his chair, sighing in bliss as he closes his eyes. “You like it that much?” You ask with a giggle, setting down a plate of cookies you had bought from the bakery across the street.

“Of course,” he replies, watching as you take a seat in front of him, taking a cookie to eat. “There’s nothing like your tea, you know that.”

Of course, you did. For the past two years, ever since you and Sakusa had rekindled your friendship and had begun to meet up regularly, you had been brewing him a cup of warm tea. It wasn’t meant to be a habit, but somehow it became that way ever since the first time Sakusa had decided to open up and rave about romance novels with you.

You remember the first time it happened. Sakusa had dropped by for a surprise visit after the two of you bumped into each other on a trip to the supermarket earlier that day. You mentioned that you ran a bookstore, but you never expected him to show up to it. It was a pleasant surprise, one that you welcomed wholeheartedly.

He had asked for a book recommendation, not knowing how else to reignite that connection you two had back in high school. He remembers the days where he used to escape to the library, and you’d keep him company, rambling on and on about the books you were sorting out and how much you loved them.

Those were the most enjoyable times throughout Sakusa’s high school life, and how he wished to reclaim those memories and renew them once more now that you were adults.

That day, you had recommended him to read Pride and Prejudice, to which Skausa initially grimaced, remembering how much he had hated the book back then when he was younger. But with your encouragement, he had decided to purchase it without giving it any thought until he finally read it on his rare day off.

And to say he was floored would be an understatement.

“Incredible,” he had mentioned to you, in a frenzy the next day, returning to your store like a man who had just been shown the truth of the universe. “Utterly Amazing!”

“Sakusa?” You had called back, confused at his sudden behavior. From your puzzled expression, Sakusa finally snapped out of his senses and cleared his throat, embarrassed at his sudden outburst.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, averting his gaze. “It’s fine,” you say, reassuringly gesturing him to follow you to the back office that would soon become a special hangout place for the two of you.

“What was it you were talking about?” You ask as you prepare your first-ever cup of tea for him (the first of many). At your question, Sakusa perks up, grabbing the book he had purchased from his bag and setting it down on the table in front of him.

“This was incredible,” he reiterates, and you turn your head to see what he was talking about, only to nod in understanding. “How does one write love in such a compelling and enchanting way? It seems too good to be true. I can’t believe I didn’t appreciate this masterpiece back in high school.”

You laugh, setting down the cup of tea. It’s the first time you’ve seen Sakusa this expressive. It reminds you of back in the day, in those few moments where you would catch him in a rave about how fantastic volleyball was as you rearranged the science books on the shelves. It was in those moments that you found the usually quiet man quite charming.

“(Y/N)?” Sakusa asks, bringing you out of your trance. You look up at him, snapping out of your thoughts as you tilted your head in question. “You okay? You’ve been out of it for a few minutes.”

“Oh,” you giggle, realizing your mistake. “Sorry, Kiyoomi, I was just reminiscing about the past, that’s all. How did you find the book?”

“Heartbreaking.”

You blink, caught off guard by how blunt he was before letting out a hearty laugh, to which Sakusa frowns, not quite understanding why you were laughing. “What’s so funny?” He asks, a pout settling on his lips.

“Nothing Kiyoomi, It’s just, I didn’t expect you to say that so bluntly,” you say, wiping off the tears that had begun to form at the corner of your eye from too much laughter. “Continue.”

“You wouldn’t believe the number of times I cried while reading the book. How could John—whatever his name is—write something so heartbreaking and expect to get away with it?”

Your laughter rings through the room, and Sakusa can feel it tug on his heartstrings. He wasn’t one to express his thoughts out loud. But being around you just made him do it. You had this magic about you, something Sakusa couldn’t quite put his fingers on. Perhaps that was just your natural charm to draw people into your rhythm, and Sakusa wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Well, just wait till you read the other two. They’re both as equally amazing as the last one.” You say, gesturing to the books in front of Sakusa tenderly. “Are they just as heartbreaking?” He asks, already giddy with anticipation.

“Hmm, you’ll have to read to find out.” You tease, causing another pout to form on his lips as he groans, choosing to chug down the remainder of his tea.

The two of you continued your conversation, talking about anything and everything about your lives at the moment. Sakusa vented about their most recent game, which was a win for the team. However, he didn’t play as well as he wanted, which caused him to be benched for two sets. It was a low blow on his part, but he knew that with proper training and motivation, he could overcome it.

“Of course you can!” You said once he was done voicing out his doubts. “You’re the Sakusa Kiyoomi I know and love. Of course, you’re going to ace it!”

Your words cause Sakusa’s heart to skip a beat, trying to process what you had just said. Did you really love him? Was it in a platonic or more romantic way? Why did you have to say that? Don’t you know how much it drives Sakusa wild?

“Thanks,” is all he says, looking down to hide the blush that was beginning to form on his cheeks. Was this what all the books were telling him about? Was he slowly but surely falling in love with you? Because if he was, then Sakusa would wholeheartedly admit that this was the best feeling in the world.

Falling in love felt surreal.

As he leaves your store, two new books in hand, greeting you goodbye as you wave him off, Sakusa can feel the love in him continue to grow. He makes the short trip home, yet all he can do is think of you and how much you’ve become part of his life. You had wormed your way into his heart and made yourself stay, and honestly, Sakusa didn’t mind.

He was a hopeless romantic after all. And if this was the beginning of a life-changing love story with you by his side, then so be it.

He would fall until you’d catch him in your arms and love him until love could be no more. And would wholeheartedly do it all over again.

➢ general taglist (send an ask to be tagged!): @loveinhaikyuu @mirakeul

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #hq x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x you #sakusa kiyoomi x you

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 years

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Conspiracy fantasy

When we talk about conspiratorialism, we tend to focus (naturally) on the content of the conspiracy. Not only are those stories entertainingly outlandish — they’re also the point of contact between conspiracists and the world.

If your mom is shouting about “Hollywood pedos,” it’s natural that you’ll end up discussing the relationship of this belief to observable reality. But while the content of conspiratorial beliefs gets lots of attention, we tend to neglect the significance of those beliefs.

To the extent that we consider why the beliefs exist and proliferate, the discussion rarely gets further than “irrational people have irrational beliefs.” This is a mistake. The stories we tell one another are a kind of Ouija board, with all our fingertips on the planchette.

The messages it spells out don’t describe external reality but they do reveal our internal, unspoken anxieties and aspirations.This is why we should read science fiction: not because it predicts the future, but because it diagnoses the present.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/26/meaningful-zombies/#oracles

Sf is an ever-mutating ecosystem of fears and hopes, and readers apply selective pressure to those organisms, extinguishing the ones that don’t capture the zeitgeist and elevating the ones that do, a co-evolution of our fantasies and our narratives.

http://locusmag.com/Features/2007/07/cory-doctorow-progressive-apocalypse.html

This is why Alternate Reality Games are so central to their players’ lives. They’re a form of narrative co-creation, with the players throwing out theories and the game-masters actually changing the story to incorporate the best of them.

ARGs are an environment where your coolest and most deliciously scary ideas become reality. It’s a powerful way to galvanize collective action.

As anthropologist Biella Coleman writes in Hacker, Hoaxer, Whistleblower, Spy, it’s the organizing principal behind Anonymous.

Anon Ops begin life as victory announcement videos. If the vision of success captures enough Anons, they execute the op.

https://www.spectator.co.uk/article/the-anonymous-ghost-in-the-machine

In other words, the degree to which a shared fantasy of victory compels its audience predicts whether the audience realizes its fantasy. Long before the alt-right, Anons were memeing ideas into existence (no coincidence, as both were incubated on 4chan).

On the Conspiracy Games and Counter-Games podcast, three left academics — Max Haiven, AT Kingsmith, Aris Komporozos-Athanasiou — analyze “conspiracy fantasies” (as opposed to conspiracies, e.g. the Big Lie behind the Iraq War) for what they reveal about late capitalism’s anxieties.

As leftists, they naturally focus on the relationship between material conditions and people’s behaviors and beliefs. This is an important part of the discourse on conspiratorialism that’s often missing from liberal and right-wing analysis.

Conspiracists aren’t just “irrational” nor are they just “racist.” They may be both of those things, but unless you look at material conditions, then the surges and retreats of conspiracism are mysterious phenomena, strange tides raised by unseen forces.

A decade ago, then-PM David Cameron — the architect of a brutal, authoritarian austerity — dismissed the Hackney Riots as “criminality pure and simple,” and demanded a ban on discussion of the relationship between austerity and unrest.

https://www.theguardian.com/politics/video/2011/aug/09/david-cameron-riots-criminality-video

But without that discussion, there’s no explanation. Even if you believe that “criminality” is a thing that is latent within some or all of us, what explains a rise or fall in that criminality? Is it like pollen that alights upon some of us, turning us bad? Or the full moon?

Likewise the “conspiracists are just racists” or “they’re just deranged.” Without looking at the material world, there’s no explanation for why that racism suddenly became more (or less) important to how conspiracists live their lives.

We can’t talk about conspiratorialism without talking about material considerations, and we have to talk about the form and substance of the conspiratorial belief. The ARG-like structure of Qanon is a hugely important part of its popularity:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/08/05/behavioral-v-contextual/#adrian-hon

Memeing things into existence in a game-like way is hugely compelling. You can tell when a D&D game is hopping when the players and the DM start co-creating the story, with the DM slyly altering the dungeon and the NPCs to match the players’ super-cool theories.

A recent episode of the CGACG podcast present a mind-blowing analysis of the interplay of the material conditions, mythology and structure of Qanon. It’s a two-part interview with Wu Ming 1:

https://soundcloud.com/reimaginevalue/wuming-one-1?in=reimaginevalue/sets/unmanageablerisks

https://soundcloud.com/reimaginevalue/wuming-one-2?in=reimaginevalue/sets/unmanageablerisks

Wu Ming 1 is part of Bologna’s Wu Ming Collective, the successor to the 1990s Luther Bissett net-art collective. Bissett did many wild, weird things,including publishing “Q,” an internationally bestselling conspiratorial novel in 1999 (!!)

https://www.wumingfoundation.com/giap/what-is-the-wu-ming-foundation/

The plot of “Q” involves a high-level government official, privy to top-secret info about a state conspiracy. It closely mirrors Qanon beliefs, right down to a call for a Jan 6 uprising (!!!!). The major difference is that “Q” is set during the Protestant Reformation.

In the interview, Wu Ming 1 talks about the proliferation of conspiratorial, ARG-like 4chan hoaxes that predated Qanon, and hypothesizes that the original Q posts were plagiarized from the novel.

The strange experience of seeing a novel turn into a cult prompted Ming 1 to write “La Q di Qomplotto” (“The Q in Qonspiracy”), a book that defines and analyzes “conspiracy fantasies.”

https://edizionialegre.it/product/la-q-di-qomplotto/

Ming 1’s interview digs into this in some depth, including setting out criterial for distinguishing conspiracies from fantasies (for example, a conspiracy doesn’t go on forever, while a fantasy can imagine the Knights Templar running the world for centuries).

I was taken by Ming 1’s discussion of the role that “enchantment” plays in conspiratorialism — the feeling of being in a magical and wondrous (if also anxious and terrible) place. He says this is why “debunkers” fail — they’re like people who spoil a magic trick.

Ming 1 and the hosts talk about replacing the enchantment of conspiratorialism with a counter-enchantment, grounded not in the conspiratorialist’s oversimplification and essentialism, but in the wonder of reality.

Ming 1 analogizes his “counter-enchantment” to the “double-wow” method of Penn and Teller: first they blow you away with a trick, and then they blow you away with the cleverness by which it was accomplished.

He describes how the Luther Bissett collective performed a double-wow during Italy’s Satanic Panic, creating a hoax satanic heavy metal cult and a counter-cult, promulgating stories of their pitched battles, then revealing how they’d faked the whole thing.

The action was taken in solidarity with actual Bolognese heavy metal fans who’d been framed for imaginary Satanic “crimes.” Luther Bissett wanted to demonstrate how a panic could be created from nothing, to reveal the method behind the real hoax with a fake hoax.

The double-wow method reminds me of Richard Dawkins’ manuever in “The Magic of Reality,” his excellent children’s book about the virtues of the scientific world, revealing how the numinous wonder of faith is nothing compared to the wonder of science.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Magic_of_Reality

The idea that conspiratorialism is a leading indicator of capitalism’s anxieties is a powerful one, and it ties into other compelling accounts of conspiracy, like Anna Merlan’s REPUBLIC OF LIES, which discusses the importance of trauma to conspiratorial belief.

Like Ming 1, Merlan stresses the kernel of truth underpinning conspiracy fantasies — the real aerospace coverups that make UFO conspiracies plausible, the real pharmaceutical conspiracies to cover up harms from drugs that underpin anti-vax.

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/09/21/republic-of-lies-the-rise-of-conspiratorial-thinking-and-the-actual-conspiracies-that-fuel-it/

In the podcast, Ming 1 and the hosts stress the importance of identifying and addressing the kernel of truth and the trauma it produces in any counter-conspiratorial work — that is, a successful counter-enchantment must address the material conditions behind the fantasy.

I really like this approach because of its empathy — its attempt to connect with the conditions that produce behaviors and beliefs, not to be confused with sympathy, which might excuse their toxic and hateful nature.

It reminds me a lot of Oh No Ross and Carrie, whose hosts have spent years joining cults and religions and digging into fringe practices and beliefs in an effort to understand them; they laugh a lot, but never AT their subjects.

https://ohnopodcast.com/

But Ming 1 brings something new to this discussion: an analysis of the role that novels have played in conspiracy fantasy formation: not just the plagiarizing of “Q” to make Qanon, but things like the Protocols of the Elders of Zion plagiarizing Dumas.

The interview also brought to mind Edward Snowden’s recent inaugural blog-post, “Conspiracy: Theory and Practice,” which seeks to separate conspiracy practice (e.g. the NSA spying on everyone) from theories (what Ming 1 calls “fantasies”).

https://edwardsnowden.substack.com/p/conspiracy-pt1

Snowden connects the feeling of powerlessness to the urge to explain the world through conspiracies, relating this to his experience of revealing one of the world’s most far-reaching real conspiracies, and then becoming the subject of innumerable conspiracy fantasies.

Snowden’s perspective is one that has heretofore been missing from conspiracy discourse — the perspective of someone who has been part of a real conspiracy and then the central subject of a constellation of bizarre and widespread conspiratorial beliefs.

These different works, focusing as they do on the character of conspiratorial beliefs, the nature of conspiratorial practice, and material conditions of conspiracists, comprise a richer analysis of our screwed-up discourse than, say, theories about “online radicalization.”

As I wrote in my 2020 book “How to Destroy Surveillance Capitalism,” the “online radicalization” narrative requires that you accept Big Tech’s unsupported marketing claims about its power to bypass our critical thoughts at face value.

https://onezero.medium.com/how-to-destroy-surveillance-capitalism-8135e6744d59

Claims to be able to control our minds — whether made by Rasputin, Mesmer, pick-up artists, MK-ULTRA or NLP enthusiasts — always turn out to be cons (though sometimes the con artists are also conning themselves).

But there’s a much more plausible, less controversial set of powers that Big Tech possesses. By spying on us all the time, it can help scammers target people who are ready to hear conspiratorial explanations.

By monopolizing our discourse, it allows SEO scammers to create default answers to our questions. By locking us in, it can keep us using a platform even if the discourse there makes us angry and anxious.

And by corrupting our political process, it creates “kernels of truth” for conspiratorial beliefs.

As with Scooby Doo, the monster turns out to be a familiar villain in a fright mask: a monopolist whose abuses and impunity create the anxiety that make conspiracy plausible.

#pluralistic

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themonkeycabal · 3 years

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re: Fantasy Recs

riseoftherose said: If you don’t mind a slightly younger aimed author, I still enjoy a series I first read as a kid, always thought it deserved more rep. The Land of

Sorry friend, it looks like your rec got cut off a bit there.

msprufrock said: Also aimed slightly younger, but I really enjoyed Akata Witch (and the sequel Akata Warrior) by Nnedi Okorafor. It’s a YA fantasy series set in Nigeria

Oh nice. Sounds like fun. Scarlet Odyssey is also set in a very Africa-like world, really loved that.

gerundsandcoffee said: I liked Uprooted by Naomi Novik. It’s a stand alone original but heavily rooted in Eastern European folklore.

I think I might have read that one. It sounds familiar. I’ll have to look again. Thanks!

solysgoldensun said: The Invisible Library series by Genevieve Cogman is pretty fun, involving dragons, fae, and librarians (oh my!) in a multiverse semi-portal fantasy deal with steam punk elements.

Oh nice. I’ve got a little bit of a weakness for steampunkish-ness. (oh, bonus, the first book was only $2.99. I picked it up. thanks!)

anomaly-nerd said: The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison is my current favorite. It’s a little plot heavy but the worldbuilding is fantastic and the protagonist is impossible not to love

I don’t mind plot-heavy if I feel like it’s going somewhere. Love good worldbuilding, though. So great.

Anonymous said: I highly recommend Temeraire. That series was amazing. It's 9 books, complete storyline that begins in Napoleonic Wars era Europe and then expands into almost every continent. It was just mwah *chef's kiss*. The lead characters (one human, one dragon) are both absolutely adorkable and I thoroughly enjoyed every chapter. There are serious matters and some dark chapters, but it's a very optimistic series overall, not grimdark in the least.

Oh, thank you for reminding me of that one! I have the first one, I think I read it when it came out, but I never followed up on the rest of the series.

emilise284 said: any/all of Diana Wynne Jones’s works: Howl’s Moving Castle, Dogsbody, and Fire and Hemlock are among my favorites.

Robin McKinley is also gr9, I especially love Pegasus and Chalice

if you’re looking for recent fantasy Gideon the Ninth (and sequel, Harrow the Ninth) by Tamsyn Muir are GREAT fun and very gay (but also maybe edging a lil further towards grimdark than you’re in the mood for rn)

Cool. Thank you!

backwardsandinhighheels said: For urban fantasy, I’ve really enjoyed the Guild Codex series by Annette Marie - funny with found family vibes and slooow burn romances, and the heroine of Spellbound is a normal human girl in a magic guild which gives me serious Darcy vibes

That sounds like a lot of fun. Thanks. (score, the first one is $3.99 and has Margarita in the title. Can’t go wrong there. I grabbed it.)

lady-of-luthien said: The first fantasy author I really got into was Tamora Pierce. She writes a lot of YA stuff. Song of the Lioness, The Immortals, and Protector of the Small series. All awesome.

Oh yes, I read some of those. Definitely fun.

furyleika said: Absolutely second Robin McKinley, particularly The Blue Sword and The Hero and the Crown. Also Tamora Pierce. If you don’t mind younger aimed, my absolute favorites of all time are Patricia C. Wrede’s Enchanted Forest Chronicles. Anne McCaffrey’s Pern novels straddle the fantasy/sci-fi line depending where in the timeline you’re reading. The Harper Hall series is a great starting point.

I also really like Garth Nix’s Old Kingdom series. They may be closer to grim than not, but things turn out okay! Way less depressing than GRRM. I liked Holmberg’s Paper Magician series if you haven’t read that from her.

Swordheart from T. Kingfisher is awesome and funny and romantic. It says it’s in the same series as something else of hers, but I didn’t read those and enjoyed it anyways. Okay, I’ll stop. (Oh wait! Have you read Neil Gaiman’s stuff? I like almost all of it.)

Oh, I’ve totally read Anne McCaffrey, very into Pern back in ye olden tymes.

I have the Paper Magician, but I haven’t read it yet. I just finished Spellbreaker/Spellmaker and I wanted to try somebody else first.

T. Kingfisher sounds familiar, but I don’t recognize any of the titles (maybe I read Clockwork Boys, that sounds really familiar. Or I started to read it and got distracted and forgot -- this happens). I will check out Swordheart.

Garth Nix sounds familiar, too (I am bad with names, so this happens a lot, too). I’ll check out the first one. Thanks!

And, yes, I’ve read all the Neil Gaiman things lol.

owl-librarian said: Echoing Diana Wynne Jones, Tamora Pierce, and Garth Nix rec’s. I also recently reread a bunch of Patricia C Wrede books, which are delightful. If J/YA isn’t your jam, try Mercedes Lackey; HIGHLY prolific fantasy writer. Some of her stuff is a little dated now, but gosh a lot of it is still awesome. I particularly like her Arrows of the Queen trilogy.

Oh, yes, definitely I’ve ready Mercedes Lackey. Back in ye olden days with Anne McCaffrey and Terry Brooks (I was very into the Shannara books in high school).

gothfirefaerie said: If you like amazing world building and word porn I can not recommend Patricia a McKillip enough! My favorites are alphabet of thorn, fantastic beasts of eld and ombria in shadow. Also great for world building is Michelle Sagara and her chronicles of elantra but while I wouldn’t call them grimdark they are heavy.

Those sound fun. Thank you. Love worldbuilding.

owl-librarian said: Have you done any Terry Pratchett? He’s the right kind of fantasy for me, definitely not too heavy “high fantasy” - and full of real characters and great humor! If you are intimidated by his Oeuvre start with “Guards! Guards!” or “The Wee Free Men”

Oh yes, absolutely. Great fun.

owl-librarian said: I also highly suggest the Bordertown books edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling; it was a shared world created back in the 80s for authors to play in - there are several short story collections and a couple of novels set in this town that is the border between our world and faerie. It was revived in the 2010s with Ellen and Holly Black in another short story collection.

That sounds familiar, but I don’t think I ever read any of it. Thank you, I’ll check it out.

cathsith said: @sarahreesbrennan In Other Lands is *amazing* and lots of fun and the furthest thing from grim!dark that I can think of

Awesome. Thank you.

lover-of-the-starkindler said: *nods along for most of the recs and takes notes of the others* Summers at Castle Auburn by Sharon Shinn is good; Perilous Gard by Elizabeth Marie Pope is a Tam Lin retelling set in Elizabethan England and is amazing; Woodwalker by Emily B. Martin if you like sneaking through forests and political plots…

Sweet, thank you.

Thanks everybody I will check out all of your lovely recs.

#book recs #book rec list #so many things to read #wonderful!

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lunartearrose · 3 years

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hello. bestie. info about this fantasy au WHEN 👀👀👀👀👀

Aaa I can give you some right now!!!! For some reason this au comes to me whenever im working so thats why its art is all on stickynotes audjskjsj

BUT ANYWAYS uh. No better way to say this but it all started out with a modded skyrim character creator that i made skull in! I thought it was cool and going thru both main q and whatever stupid civil war to skip the broken seasons unending quest is annoyin but fun was had for maybe some hours

But! I had to make skull twice due to the first skull files getting corrupted. So that has a piece to it

But anyways context over and now this au has been in my brain with only vague skrim assets because i fucking hate that that civil war has anything to do with anything of the main questline it can FUCK. Right off

Basic storyline premise my brain had! We start out with a currently human vintage caught between a mysteriously similar civil war :) he's chosen neither side but since his home was destroyed by the stupid shit idiot war he's basically gotten really good at pissing off both sides. Sometimes he gets caught! And the good-ish soldiers will see that he is you know a still kinda baby-side teen full of anger and try to lrt him go with a talking to. But his worst encounter would be when the angy soldiers catch him and beat him up, which just deepens his hatred. And one time someone really messed him up bad!

He ends up limping away into an enchanted forest and drawn by a really good smell, he passes out just in front of this really beautiful lilac tree that was in a clearing like "ok this is a nice tree to die by. Peaceful" but ofc he didnt die. He just woke up to a nymph of the tree he chose taking him up to the center of the tree. And that's how he befriends Skull, he's recovering with him and keeps mumbling about how nice the smell is while skull both cares for him and looks around for his potion savvy friend. Once vin is healed up by aviators he realizes pretty quick that this forest is very much between the war path and figures it's highly appropriate to set traps all over!!! But ofc giving avi and skull very specific instructions on how to avoid the things he sets. He also makes good pals with omega in the town nearby bc she helps at an institude and she's been sneaking him into their library to read up on nymphs and share his own notes in return. Shes like you're my little brother and hes like fuck u (but also thank you sorry) and he gets to discover he has a high affinity for magic despite being human. Weird! Anyways now that he has a place of study he can figure out how to teach skull weapons.

But all is not peaceful for long, bc some old shitty wizard trails this knowledgeable little jerkwad, because variant nymphs are rare! And as the guy comes out of the bushes and pisses vintage off by treating skull like a specimen and taking out a pair of scissors like, "i wonder if its really true that you can take memories of one by severing branches from its tree:)" Vintage basically attacks the guy! Because no taking Skull's memories! And skull helps of course bc friend, but unfortunately this guy is very strong and seasoned. So when vintage almost gets a good life ending hit, the wizard wounds him heavily (resulting in an x-shaped scar deep on his face that got him bad in one eye) and opens a portal to basically hell! Vin is gonna fall in but skull makes the effort to try and use the roots of his tree to pull him out. But knowing he can get sucked in too, vintage just makes a promise to get out somehow and come back, sealing it by giving the gift of a small ring he was saving. Unknown to him once he falls and portal closes, skull definitely makes the wizard into plant food! But on the floor of this hellscape, vintage finds himself with some flowers and seeds that had fallen from the tree, a tail, and a new nubby pair of horms and wings. But despite this, he gets up, gathers the seeds, and thinking back on his affinity for magic, he decides he will grow the lilacs while he figures out an escape, all the while being reminded of skull every time he looks at the stuff. It takes some years, and some demons also looking for an escape love his tree and his story (mainly double who helped persuade spirits into protecting the tree and gave vin tips on horn and wing upkeep) but eventually vin has his break when he hears omega call and together they pry open a portal out of there. He's pulled along by a red sole (very excited feral magician) and now he and double are finally out. Double introduces himself while vintage, with magical hell-lilacs tied around tail, disguises his demon features and runs off to find skull.

Only to find the entire forest burned down. He's in shock for some time, wanting to know how and why. One of the last things he saw was a killing blow from skull, it couldn't have been that wizard- but then he spots a soldier's settlement nearby. Hidden amongst charred trees. They chatted merrily, loading up gathered game, and when he asked, they told him the forest was another victim of their pointless war. It wasn't even a turning point, and one of them even laughed and said they'd get "the bad guys" next time.

When the sick of this, much older teen, gets angry enough that his horn-hiding illusion falls, they all quite suddenly realize they've majorly screwed up. And vintage figures out that he has a taste for souls. Red finds him again after though with a gift, a calm pet and a gentle informing that he should be able to visit his hell lilac tree anytime he wants at least. A nice gift, but vintage is too angry at the moment to appreciate it and decides that hes ending the war himself by killing every single person directly involved with it! At times the armies had tried to work together to stop him, but with the power to morph melificent style into a dragon is a pretty solid way to make sure you're just wasting lives, and people figure out pretty quick it's the commanders he wants. Those are sacrificed, but now you just have a very powerful demon with nowhere to place his still burning grief that's very very hard to approach! But word gets around as it does and a blue group of adventurers take up the task of calming the demon and dealing with his haywire magic and deliver a hard truth - that he might have to move on with the friends he made along the way. Post fight, the vampire cruising with blue team scoops vin with some tlc plans and asks that blue team to locate the friends vintage had, and maybe even look into his older friends. And once vintage is awake in a rather cleanly and impressive vampire mansion, he's given news that emperor had heard of a wood elf taking care of a rather flowerless and purple nymph, working with a lot more potions than usual. One can't even begin to describe how relieved Vintage is by this info that his first friend, at the very least, is still alive. It may just take time to get to him with post-magic owchies and all, so emperor decides to send out a nice and classy letter to those friends he had found, inviting them over.

Oh and the only reason skull miraculously survived the warring and forest fire is definitely becausee of the lilac tree currently sitting pretty in hell

SO UH YEAH THATS MY PLOT SO FAR FOR THIS FANTASY AU YEAH VERY WILD I HATE CIVIL WAR QUESTS FUCK CIVIL WAR QUESTS

#ask #coroika #splatoon #fantasy au #kingboos #vintage xblood #skull kun #aviators kun #team xblood #skullvin #aviskullvin #maybe i just. make a new tag of kingly polycules bc i shove a lot of what i like into relationship sections of the aus #but yeah!!! vintage is a demon and Avi is trying to get skulls memories back

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janeykath318 · 3 years

Text

BuckyNat Fantasy AU

For @green-angst-and-ham

“How much farther?”

“Not much,” answered Lady Natasha softly. “Quietly now, Sir Steven. We cannot afford to alert the sentries just yet.”

Steven nodded and followed her silently, leather boots making very little sound as the pair crept toward the lair of the evil Hydra sorcerers, who were finally going to meet their doom today.

The land had suffered greatly from their cruelty and inhumane magic and thousands had died at their hands or killed by the fire of their fierce black dragon, who periodically emerged from the Serpent Mountain to wreak havoc.

Ostensibly, Natasha and Steven were here to slay the dragon, but their true mission was rather different, for the Hydra dragon was no natural dragon, he was a man under a powerful spell, captured years ago in battle and now forced to do their bidding.

Steven had been Sir James’s close companion and had grieved his friend’s supposed death for years before he had met Natasha and she had told him of her own captivity under Hydra and that she had known and loved James before they’d turned him into their puppet.

Natasha had spent long years searching for answers in dusty magical tomes and seeking out the most renowned Wizards in the land in hope of learning how to break the spell that held James captive.

Finally, she had succeeded in finding it and together with Sir Steven, was nearing the end of her quest. Her heart pounded as they drew closer to the entrance to the cave where the dragon was chained. Several stern looking guards were posted outside, but they would soon pose no threat.

Natasha looked at Steven.

“It is time,” she told him. “Remember, it is crucial that you not interrupt me when I start the ritual, no matter how perilous things become, do you understand?”

Steven nodded somberly. The risk they were taking was very high and there was a good chance neither would survive, but it was one they were both very willing to take.

“I understand.”

“Then, let the rescue commence,” Natasha said, giving him a confident smile.

Stepping in front of the cave mouth, she waved her hands and cast a spell that put all the guards into an enchanted sleep. Steve bound them and dragged them away where they wouldn’t be any bother. Step one completed, they entered the cave and Natasha led the way through its winding, twisting passages until they reached the largest chamber where the shape of a huge beast could be seen, chained to the wall and deep in slumber.

The dragon was huge and fearsome looking, with sleek black wings and scales and deadly claws and a large horned head with flared nostrils that gave out puffs of smoke as he slept. As they grew closer, Natasha could see he looked rather thin and gaunt and the iron chain was digging into his neck cruelly. His left front leg appeared to be made entirely of silver.

She saw Steve’s mouth tighten in anger at the sight and her own heart ached thinking about the mistreatment he’d suffered from those brute sorcerers. Normally, he’d be surrounded by his handlers, but they were currently being engaged in battle by The wizards and knights of the Golden Shield.

Taking a small bottle out of her pouch, Natasha carefully opened it and let the contents waft around the room as she began speaking the words of the spell that would break James’s enchantment.

The dragon began to stir and large red eyes glared at them suspiciously as he sat up on his haunches. Steve moved to stand closer to Natasha, ready to throw up his magical shield of protection, should The Dragon breathe fire at them. Natasha calmly continued chanting, words flowing effortlessly from her lips. It had taken her months to memorize it all and it would likely take at least ten minutes to cast.

What she had not told Steven was that the spell was so powerful, it could very well drain her life force and kill her by the time she finished. Stephen Strange had almost refused to even give her the formula, so concerned was he for her safety.

What did her safety matter while the man she loved continued to suffer so?

She swallowed the lump in her throat and kept speaking.

The dragon was growling at them now, eyes blazing and mouth opening. Steve threw up the protective shield just in time as a blast of fire burst toward them. Natasha held her ground, sweat trickling down her neck as she recited the spell.

The dragon continued to blast fire at them and grasp with his claws, but due to his chains, he couldn’t get around Steven’s shield and growled angrily before giving up and sitting back down.

Feeling herself weakening every minute, Natasha steeled herself to finish her mission, Steve standing silently beside her.

As she uttered the final words, she pulled out a blue powder and threw it into the astonished dragon’s face.

A piercingly bright light appeared and Natasha sank to her knees, feeling as though she’d been kicked in the chest. As she tried to get her breath back, she heard Steven gasp and looked up to see the light dissipate and the dragon gone, leaving the huddled body of a man where he’d been.

Steve reached him first, but only because Natasha could only crawl in her weakened state. He broke the chains off of James and began looking his unconscious friend over worriedly. Natasha’s eyes filled with tears as she recognized James’s human face, bruised and battered, dark brown hair falling past his chin. The rest of his currently bare body was littered with various scars and marks from tortures she didn’t want to even begin to imagine.

“Oh, James,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and muttering a quick healing spell, forgetful of her lessened powers.

The last thing she saw before she blacked out was Steve’s panicked face.

She woke up in James’s arms, with his big beautiful blue eyes looking down at her with love and worry in them.

“Natasha,” he murmured. “You saved me. How…..”

She rested her hand on his face and enjoyed its warmth, relief and joy coursing through her. She had her James back!

“With a lot of help and practice,” she told him. “It was a complicated spell to master.”

“Without doubt,” he agreed, placing his right hand over hers. “You nearly killed yourself for me. Good thing Steve here had some healing potions.”

He gestured towards Steve, who was standing guard some yards away to give them space.

“It was worth it, James,” she said tenderly. “I love you and I never stopped.”

James’s expression twisted as he fought back tears.

“Natasha, my love, I longed for you for so long. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

His voice broke and he buried his face in her hair, breathing hard.

“I’m sorry it took me so long.” She told him. “Those Hydra dogs made it very difficult to undo their enchantments, curse them to the black pits of Hell.”

Her vehement tone had him smiling again and he helped her sit up.

“Do you feel able to walk?” He asked. “We should probably make ourselves scarce before any of them come back.”

The healing potion seemed to have been very effective, because Natasha found she could indeed stand and walk, if a little shakily.

“Yes, but James,” she asked, noticing his silver left arm, “what happened to your arm?”

He gave a grimace and pulled on a tunic Steve had given him. In one of his more optimistic moments, Steve had decided that human Bucky would likely need clothing once he had been transformed and had packed a whole set.

“Happened during the early days as a dragon before the enchantment had been perfected. I transformed back into a human while flying and nearly died in the fall, which cost me my arm. For a long time, I wished I HAD died.”

Natasha’s heart ached for him again and she saw Steve visibly wince at his friend’s words. Leaning up on tiptoes, she took his face in her hands and kissed him. James seemed surprised, but definitely returned the kiss eagerly.

“There,” she said, after they’d managed to pull apart. “Feel a little better now?”

James outright grinned at her teasing tone and she basked in the glow of it, not having seen of of his becoming smiles in way too long.

“With this kind of treatment, I’ll be good as new in no time,” he declared, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. There’s no telling how long their flirting would have gone on had Steve not given a polite cough.

“Loathe as I am to interrupt this happy reunion, we really do need to be going, friends,” he reminded them, though his own eyes were sparking with delight. “It would be best if we put on our Cloaks of Concealment.”

James and Natasha took his advice, and soon three grey-clad individuals were stealthily exiting the caves. No one spoke until they had managed to leave the Serpent Mountain far behind and then James heaved a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” he said quietly to both of them.

Natasha squeezed his hand in response and Steve said firmly, “You know I’d do anything for you, Bucky.”

“I remember,” James said fondly. “How many times did you go off and fight something well beyond your strength because it looked askance at me? Does he still do that?”

“Less often now that he has a wife and child,” Natasha informed him. “Lady Margaret has been wonderful in talking him out of overly reckless ventures. And when she can’t, she usually joins him.”

Steve blushed and James turned to him, looking downright delighted.

“Lady Margaret! Really? My heartiest congratulations, Steve! So You finally got up the courage to speak to her!”

Steve mumbled again and started walking faster to avoid his friend’s questions.

“Oh, they’re an absolute delight,” Natasha told James, green eyes dancing with mirth.

“I’m sure they are,” he agreed. “I have so much catching up to do, especially with you.”

He kissed her hand with a look that promised a lot more, and Natasha’s heart fluttered in a way it hadn’t in a very long time. Her James was finally free.

#buckynat #prompt fic #Fantasy AU #winterwidow #bucky barnes #natasha romanov #dragon! Winter Soldier

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daddy-satrinava · 5 years

Note

The whole alphabet skdjfhfh (if you can, of course) BLESS YOU

Oh lord this is a long ass post and there’s nothing but thirst in it

Aftercare

• Sometimes takes longer than the sex, and that says a lot. All she wants is to spoil you, and this is the perfect occasion to lavish you with attention and appreciation.

• Soft kisses and soft smiles and soft looks and tired eyes and lazy touches and soft hair all over the place.

• We’re talking about Nadia ‘scented baths’ Satrinava, so a nice warm bath is a must. She’ll help you wash or give you a massage if she left you with any sore muscles, and all that comes with a lot of kisses on your bite marks ;)

Body part

• Caress and kiss those thighs please. It makes her weak when you touch them and if you do it right, maybe she’ll sub for you.

• As for her favorite body part, it has to be your shoulders. They’re just so good for everything: she likes to bite them, rest her head on them when you’re sitting together, grab them when you’re walking and kiss them when she’s spooning you.

Clothing

• Nadia just loves lingerie, both on herself and on you. If you like them too, she’ll buy hundreds, in all colors, from all fabrics and all models, and she’ll match them with jewelry.

• Asks you to pick your favorite and disappears behind the divider, making a little show out of it, throwing her clothes and making you ask nicely for her to come out.

• She loves to watch you move in lingerie, and if you give her a lap dance you’re definitely up for a treat.

Dirty talk

• Yes.

• Her special ability is not necessarily using explicit words but sounding so lewd. She will tell you between kisses how bad she wants to keep you up all night, how she wants to make you forget your name. She will remind you what a good pet you are and continuously ask you if you like it, if you want more, if you’ll behave etc.

• If you get flustered easily, she will take advantage of it and keep talking until you’re a blushing mess. And if you dirty talk back to her, it’s gonna be the hottest rap battle ever.

Favorite position

• Hear me out: 69.

• I mean, what could be better than a position which allows her to please you while you please her? Granted that she’s on top, of course.

• Likes to sync her movements to yours and often challenges herself to make you cum first, which she usually does, and then moves to sit on your face.

Intimacy

• When she isn’t too busy destroying your ass, Nadia does some super cute things during sex.

• Like when she goes down on you and you grab the sheets so she reaches out and holds your hand, and she chuckles because you’re squeezing it so tight.

• Or when she grabs your hips and nuzzles against your stomach.

• And oh my god all the kisses! If you think there’ll be one inch of your skin left unkissed, you’re wrong.

Kinks

• Of course, there’s the dom/sub dynamic and the pet play, but can we talk about her other kinks?

• Like everything related to orgasm control, she thinks there’s nothing hotter than seeing you so desperate to come and so frustrated when you’ve been denied once again. And when she decides it’s time to let you finish? Divine.

• Or light bondage. She often comes to you with a piece of silk and a smirk on her lips, and you know immediately what’s next. If you want to tie her down, it’s gonna take a while to convince her, but it’s gonna be soooo worth it. She finds it endearing, seeing you in control from time to time.

Location

• Call her old fashioned, but Nadia’s favorite place to have sex in is the bedroom. Sure, the baths are more steamy (ba dum tss) and the gateway has endless possibilities, but nothing quite matches the intimacy of the bedsheets. (those walls have seen things)

Motivation

• As mentioned above, seeing you in a sexy outfit always gets her going, but sometimes little things you do can turn her on so bad.

• Confidence is a big yes for her. Whenever you make a good impression in court, charm her guests or light up the atmosphere, she has this feeling that’s a mixture of pride and arousal and she can barely stop herself from jumping on you in front of everyone.

• And oh, does she love it when you get feisty. Do any bold gesture - kiss her passionately out of nowhere, touch her under the table, sit in her lap, tell her how much you want her - and you’ll have a horny mess out of the Countess.

Noise

• Starts off quiet - some gasps and hums, but as she gets closer she won’t hold back any of those beautiful sounds. You’d be surprised how shameless her moans can be when she reaches the orgasm.

•Usually she never bothers about the sounds, because she is the Countess and can do whatever she wants, but if you are in a place other than the palace, say, someone else’s palace, she will do her best staying silent and make up for it with her delightful facial expressions.

Oral

• That mouth does wonders, baby. Her soft lips are just meant to be sucking and kissing, and that tongue of hers can make you lose yourself in pleasure. She’s so good at edging it makes you wonder where did she learn that from, when actually she just understands your body very well; you can say she’s a natural.

• When receiving oral, she likes to either sit in a chair or ride your face, one hand always in your hair and her eyes pinned on you. She’s okay with fingering, but she prefers to have your hands roaming on her body.

Pace

• For her, it’s slow and steady over fast and messy. This woman is a true tease, so of course she will want to drive you crazy with her feather-light kisses and touches, but she also craves sweet love making, the kind that takes the whole night and feels like it has no beginning and no ending.

Quickie

• She’d rather take her time, to work every part of you up and make sure every time is most enjoyable. But if a great thirst appears and the circumstances impedes that, she will jam you into an empty room and get done with it quick.

Risk

• Not the biggest fan of having sex in risky places. Teasing in public is a different thing, which she loves to do, but she prefers the fucc to happen in private.

• If you’re into that, however, she can make some compromises: she’ll instruct the servants to avoid a certain room and then get at it, but only after expressing her deep concern about being caught in the sexiest voice.

Seduction

• Nadia’s sweet nothings whispered in your ear are better than any other flirt; she will tell you all the things she loves about you, and that means everything, she will tell you just what you do to her (maybe even show) and she’ll make you feel like the most loved person.

• And honestly, if you want her equal parts flustered and horny, just praise her a little. Tell her how good her speech was, how proud you are of her, how beautiful she looked in that dress. She is hard to impress, but she also has a soft spot for you, so it’s actually quite easy to make her swoon.

Toys

• Girl got everything you could think of and probably more. She’s a huge fan of toys and wants to try them all on you.

• You can’t convince me some of them aren’t crafted by the Countess herself. She’d want to give you a custom made gift and will ask for a veeery detailed description of what you’d like.

• Having such a talented magician by her side and not enchanting her favorite toys would be a shame, really. You’d better get your hand on some buzzing magic, because you won’t regret it ;)

Unfair

• When does Nadia not tease you, honestly.

• At a table she never misses the chance of sliding her leg against yours, or trailing her fingers up your thigh while you’re trying to have a conversation with someone. She’d also whisper something scandalous in your ear then turn away and start chatting with a random person.

• Always compliments your outfits (even though she bought them all lol) and touches you all over, claiming to ‘feel the fabric’.

• I could go on, but to recap: Nadia teases.

Vocal

• She’s more of a talker than a moaner, so brace yourself for a lot of dirty talk and praising.

• Gives you clear instructions on how to position yourself and, if you’re lucky enough to top, how to fuck her.

• As she gets closer she resumes to ecstatic affirmations and the way she calls your name when pleasure overtakes her is orgasmic in itself. Afterwards, praises of your hard work are compulsory.

Wildcard

• This one belongs to @mindlesssoulz bless her

• Nadia goes wild (pun intended) if you dig your nails into her back while she fucks you. Feeling you hooked on her flesh, your heart and body all hers, it makes her feel unbelievably alive. Expect her to groan and pick up the pace, maybe even dig her teeth into your collarbone.

• If not, at least give her a back scratch from time to time

X-rated thoughts

• Well, maybe this isn’t the kinkiest fantasy ever, but all she ever wanted - and I mean really wanted - was to wake up to her partner eating her out. She likely won’t tell you at first, because she thinks it’s a bit selfish, but like, please make her happy and convince her she deserves to have all her fantasies fulfilled.

• If you want it to be the best morning of her life, masturbate at the same time and you’re guaranteed to not leave the bed for the rest of the day.

Yearning

• Nadia is one of those persons that look like they can control their sexual instincts, but in truth she wants sum fuk all the time.

• Her libido is high, but what’s even higher is her stamina, good lord. She can go on for hours, with no break.

• Sometimes, when things are busy at the palace, you don’t get the chance to have sex for a long time, so when you finally do get a break she’s so horny you need a second break to recover from all that.

ZZZ

• Doesn’t sleep immediately after, because she wants to indulge in that warm feeling. Most likely she’ll clean up while feeling confident and pleasantly tired (like the sims lol). If you doze off she will gladly hold you in her arms and slowly stroke your hair.

• However, if you manage to exhaust her, she’ll snuggle with you and fall asleep in no time, which is a rare event for her, so congratulations on your achievement, dude.

#BLESS YOU ANON #the arcana #the arcana game #nadia satrinava #countess nadia #nadia route #headcanons #n(adia)sfw #'hooked on her flesh' that's from a hozier song lol

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vannminner · 5 years

Text

On the Kindness of Strangers - Ahead of the Wind

"That's ridiculous..." Kristoff grumbled, watching as Anna hurried to pack up their things. "I've been harvesting ice for eighteen years in the North Mountains, and never once have I been outsmarted by a storm."

A rolled-up sleeping bag sailed through the sky. It planted itself painfully into Kristoff's stomach. He doubled over with his hands braced against the bag, and groaned in discomfort.

"Well, there is a first time for everything!" Anna ignored his pain.

She hurried around their camp site as she and Elsa collected their blankets and put out the fire. It wasn't until she saw Kristoff, unmoving and awe-faced against his feet, that she spun around again.

"Will you stop standing around and give us a hand with these?" Anna's hands fought to her hips.

Before he could respond, another sleeping bag went zipping through the air. This time, Kristoff caught it before it collided with his chest.

"I just don't understand the big hurry..." He yawned and meandered slowly towards the sleigh. "I don't hear any wind... What's to say it's not something else; something, i don't know, normal? We could be missing out on valuable sleep here, people!"

Elsa stopped in her tracks before spinning towards Kristoff.

"I don't know how to explain it," She softly glared. "-but I can feel that something is not right here. I need you to trust me, Kristoff!"

Never being one to raise her voice, Kristoff decidedly pulled his jaw in tight. His eyes popped a little too wide, and he flashed Elsa an uncomfortable grin.

"You've got it." He nodded politely, and dragged an embarrassed hand over the back of his neck.

Kristoff hurried to fix the haphazardly tossed blankets in the back of the sleigh. He arranged them in a line, as they were when they had left, before assisting the women in packing up the rest of their things. It was mostly their stuff anyway.

Women..., Kristoff thought with a roll of his eyes, but knew better than to say anything else aloud regarding the matter.

As they were finishing, Kristoff began attaching Sven to the sleigh. He clipped on his harness while Sven idly munched on the carrot he had been given. After Sven was secured to the hilt of the brush bow, Kristoff helped Anna into her seat.

When they looked back for Elsa, they noticed that she had stalled at the center of the clearing.

She had her eyes trained towards the very tree line where the storm would be approaching from. Despite her unknowing, Elsa's face showed no fear. Instead, she appeared amused; hopeful even. It was that same look of eagerness that Anna had noticed in her when Elsa talked of the others they might uncover who had powers as well.

Elsa was fidgeting with her hands. She pulled at her fingers, and her clog-adorned toes dug at the moist dirt of the earth. Her lip had sucked down between her teeth. Elsa appeared to be grappling with something that she would rather not share.

"Elsa?" Anna's voice sang out across the clearing.

Even in the dark of night, Elsa could see them looking back at her. Kristoff was standing at Anna's side, one foot braced against the running board. His hand was warm on her sister's leg, and he looked back at Elsa as if he might know what she had to say.

Kristoff merely nodded, giving Elsa the floor.

"I want to go towards it."

"Wait, what?" Anna gasped.

"Towards the storm," Elsa tried to explain. "-I don't know why, but I feel I am supposed to."

Anna failed to hide her shock as her blue eyes bore out of her skull. "You want to go towards the storm?" She drawled uneasily. "That makes sense."

"No listen," Elsa continued, approaching the sleigh quickly on her feet. "I know it doesn't make sense, but I can feel this storm. I might not be able to hear it like you or Sven, but I can feel it like I feel my powers under my skin."

Her eyes blinked long and slow. "Like your powers?" Anna's head turned to the side.

Elsa nodded. She watched for Anna's reaction calmly, willing her to understand what she could not explain herself.

"Okay," Anna agreed, throwing up her hands.

"Okay?" Elsa frowned.

"Yup, follow the magical storm. It is the best option we've had in days. I am with it!"

Anna pushed Kristoff back toward the front bench and slid over on her own to make room for Elsa.

Very slowly, Elsa stepped onto the sleigh. She waited a long moment, refusing to sit. Her eyes filtered back and forth between her sister and Kristoff.

"You're really okay with this?" She asked. Her voice was small and filled with concern.

Ignoring Elsa's hesitancy, Anna grabbed her hand and pulled her down onto the bench. "I trust you, Elsa. If you say there's a storm, then I believe you. If you say that we need to follow said storm so you can uncover the source of your powers, I'm going to be there facing it with you, at your side, but hopefully with a raincoat or an anchor or something so we don't get swept away."

A small smile rose to Elsa's cheeks. "I would never let anything happen to you." She promised, and flexed her fingers around Anna's.

"And neither will I." Kristoff's hand joined on top of theirs'. "We're with you, Elsa."

Elsa looked to Kristoff, and then back at Anna. Both appeared confident in her decision, like she could do no wrong in their eyes. They smiled at her as if she were some magical being of sorts, but as the sleigh lurched forward, Elsa wondered if she should tell them just how unsure she truly felt.

After all, the vivid nightmares she had been having the last few weeks, they painted the disheartening picture of the many things in this world for which Elsa could not overcome with her powers.

For all she knew, she might be leading them towards another one.

There was no light in the narrow tunnel that led down to the shore.

She used the illumination from her powers to find her way through the underpass. It was jagged with rocks and sharp deposits of run-off. The walls smelt damp and moldy, and there was the slippery rocks under-foot that made navigating these paths a challenge.

Still, Elsa persisted.

In the dream, which had only just roused her from sleep, Elsa was brought back to a time when she was younger. Seeing her mother in her sleeping state, made separating memory and fantasy difficult.

For the words that her mother spoken to her in that dream state, Elsa remembered them.

"When the skies dance with waves of green, and the moon sits high over the Kingdom of Arendelle, I am reminded of the enchanted lands from where all good magic derives."

Young Elsa, within the mind of the current Queen Elsa, she looked up to her mother. Her blue eyes bore wide as she gazed out at the magnificent sky.

"Is that where my powers came from, Momma; from the enchanted lands?"

Iduna turned back to her daughter, a small smile alive on her lips. "No one knows, my sunshine, but that is where the Gods and the Land of Living Rock, say it is so."

Elsa's eyes fluttered away from her mother. She watched as the Aurora Borealis radiated through the sky, high above their heads. The colors curled and fell, like waves, seemingly crashing against the Northern Mountain which sat far off in the distance.

But, as in a dream, not everything was as it seemed.

A swirl of green pulled up into the sky, almost out of sight, and as it came spiraling back down to Earth, water rained from up above, into Elsa's bedroom.

Within a second, she was swept up from her sheets by the tide of rushing waters. The sky disappeared overhead, and in its place the giant crest of a single wave. Elsa wanted to call out for help, but the wave pushed her down below the surface. When she emerged, panting and spluttering, her bedroom was gone, and so was her mother.

Instead, a ship raged through the violent waves of the ocean. It was dark against the blackened sky. There was no flicker of light from even the smallest star, nor planet. Elsa struggled to keep her head above the water.

She tread in place, thrashing at the tides with all her strength, and watched as the ship was struck on its side by the vengeful ocean. As if in slow motion, Elsa saw the boat capsize. It bobbed and teetered for a moment, before it was swallowed by the sea.

When the ship disappeared from sight, the light of the sky returned. The waves stilled, and the ocean calmed. Elsa was alone in the peaceful sea.

The tides worked to gently carry her back to shore.

From her reflection in the slow moving waters, Elsa could see that she was no longer a child. It was her own, adult face looking back at her now. Still, there was the panic of a nightmare so convoluted, she could feel it tugging her from sleep.

That was the dream that had led Elsa here, to the shores of the Kingdom of Arendelle.

Dressed in her gown from the day prior, she looked out at the sea. The waves were calmer than those in her dream; the ones which had stripped Elsa from her childhood bed. Yet, there was still strength in these waters, and that caused Elsa to feel uncertain of her own. Her own strength wavered with each rise and fall of the sea. It balked at the mighty tide, and the way the waters raged against the shore of rock. The tiny stones turned and smoothed in the waves, angrily bracing into one another as they attempted to find a safe hole to lodge themselves into.

Why am I here?, Elsa considered as she looked down at her feet. What secrets does the ocean and my dreams have for me that I am not able to uncover myself?

As if responding, a single wave surged towards her toes. The salt water soaked her shoes, straight through the leather and into her socks.

Kicking them off, Elsa tossed her clogs aside. She pulled the cardigan from her shoulders, and lay it folded against a rock.

Elsa turned back to admire the sea. Her gaze was low, a test to how serious her mind told her to take this.

She sighed uncomfortably. Elsa tied her hair back, high upon on her head, and took one small step forward.

Her foot dug back into the stones. Her hands braced into fists at her side.

Elsa sprinted ahead, ready to face the ocean, and its secrets.

A mislaid rock beneath the sleigh jared Elsa back to reality. She sat up, looking around, wondering when the night had fallen away and been replaced by clear blue skies.

Elsa was greeted by a warm Autumn sun. It caressed her face with its gentle rays and brought her attention down to the secondary heat coursing through her shoulder. There, Anna rested with her head laid against Elsa. As it appeared, the sleigh had woken her too. Anna's eyes blinked tired and slow. She arched back into the bench with a stretch before lifting her head.

"Sorry," She mumbled. A long yawn escaped her lips. She hid her mouth behind and open hand.

"It's alright," Elsa smiled. She straightened against her seat. "I suppose it's my fault you didn't get much time to rest last night."

"-speaking of rest," Kristoff called over his shoulder. "There looks to be a clearing on the far side of this incline. We should stop there for a bit and let Sven refuel."

Chuffing excitedly, Sven tugged harder against the reins.

"That's right, buddy. We will get you your carrots."

Anna rolled her eyes at Kristoff's antics. Though, she didn't miss the warmth that spread through her chest upon seeing his more sensitive side.

Next to her, Elsa saw Anna's eyes pull up and her lips form into a tiny grin. She turned her head to hide her amusement, bashful to be caught fawning by her older sister.

Elsa was forced to stifle a laugh.

Lately, seeing Anna happy had her own elation increasing. Following their rekindled relationship, this was becoming a reoccurring event.

When their parents passed six years prior, Elsa began to wonder if she would ever experience real happiness again. Even before that dreadful day, happiness had become a fleeting feeling for her. Every secluded moment of those fourteen years were filled with fear and dread. Now, since her coronation, Elsa began to see what life could truly hold for her.

She and Anna were content with their sisterhood. Kristoff had taken a bit for Elsa to get used to, but it was clear to see now that he was a perfect addition to their new family. Elsa appreciated how Kristoff treated Anna. He was good to her, and always put her needs first. It also helped that they had agreed to take their relationship slow. They had been happily together for three years now, confidently unhurried in their romance.

Elsa thought, at this rate, Kristoff might be afraid of her. She was the famous Ice Queen, after all. She believed it might be time to step forward and give them her blessing at her own accord. That may be the only way for them to move on from dating, and onto the idea of marriage.

Surprisingly, though, that idea resonated with more fear than Elsa had anticipated. It wasn't the act of giving her blessing that caused her nerves to stir. She would happily support Kristoff and Anna, if they asked her to. Instead, Elsa wondered how their lives would change when she did.

Change had always sought to cause her fear.

She had grown accustomed to the way things were, and any attempt against it; Elsa was not sure how she would deal with those repercussions yet.

Elsa ate breakfast with her sister while they chatted about their plans for the day. Then, they went about their individual responsibilities. Anna typically assisted with Arendelle's humanitarian investments. She volunteered with the schools, and helped maintain the village's day to day activities. Elsa, as their ruler, she had her hands on Arendelle's business endeavors. She kept track of the finances, established and withheld the regulations. Elsa even acted as the head of the Arendelle Court. Finally, at night, Kristoff would join she and Anna in the formal dining room for Dinner. The three would laugh and joke about whatever had happened while they were apart. Then, they finished their evenings by the fire. Anna and Elsa read while Kristoff worked out his plans for that season's ice harvest.

Life at the castle had grown scheduled. Life was simple and enjoyable.

Marriage between Kristoff and Anna would certainly change that. Perhaps, even for the better, but it was hard to say when there was no real way of knowing.

Worse than that, Elsa shivered, was the notion that she believed she may not be worthy of a blessing herself. Not that Elsa had actively wanted a relationship before now, no. She was content with the way things were, as stated, but Elsa had to wonder if she would recognize the opportunity if it presented itself to her. She had never thought herself capable of finding that type of comfort, like Anna had with Kristoff had, with another person before; and a stranger, no less.

Marriage could only provoke that fear, fuel it even.

If Anna and Kristoff created their own family, their own way of life, even within the walls of their current home, Elsa would surely still be a part of it.

But a much smaller part, the fear stated.

Elsa shivered again, and she felt Anna's heat pull away from her side.

When Elsa looked up from her hands, she was surprised to see that the sleigh had stopped moving. Anna had turned to her in her seat. Her eyes were large, frightful even. Kristoff had spun towards Elsa as well. His expression was much the same.

It was only then that Elsa took in where they had stopped.

They were at the edge of a vast clearing. Fog, thick and grey, adorned the far side, making it impossible to see where they were headed.

And the wind, though gentle in its efforts, it grew louder here. The whistling noise above the trees circled down into her ears. Elsa's braid pulled from her shoulder and dared up towards the sky.

But the strangest marking of the place they had found themselves in, were the four large stones standing guard at the center of the clearing. They reminded Elsa of the head stones they'd used back in Arendelle, in memoriam for her parents.

They stood at almost three times the sleigh's height. Their hilts' drew to a point before disappearing beyond the wall of fog, and each stone, they had been carved at their face. Markings of a language, of symbols which Elsa had never seen before, read of a story none of them could understand.

"The gate to the Enchanted Lands." Kristoff whispered. His voice filtered away with the wind.

Anna and Elsa merely nodded.

He turned to them with a shrug. "Well, ladies, welcome to Dorné."

Not certain what to say, Elsa knew one thing for sure. These stones, they were significant. She couldn't help but feel she had seen their markings before, a long time ago. Yet, they held something else, too; something dark, dangerous even. The fear of it muddled the sensation of the wind against her fair skin.

"We shouldn't stop here." Elsa explained calmly.

She stepped out of the sleigh.

Unhurried, Elsa approached the stones. She stilled a good distance away, and looked up in awe at their great height. These boulders, statues perhaps, the grey of their surface swallowed into the grey of the fog. It was haunting, but still, something beckoned her forward. Elsa sensed that her truth existed on the path that laid, unseen, between their jagged center.

After a moment, Anna filtered in at Elsa's side. Their shoulders brushed, but Elsa did not turn to her.

Kristoff joined them, and Sven, now free from the sleigh.

"This way," Elsa nodded.

She took the first step forward.

Anna and Kristoff shared a brief look before following Elsa into the dark fog.

#on the kindness of strangers #frozen #frozen 2 #frozen 2 trailer #frozen 2 fanfiction #frozen fanfiction #frozen 2 theories #elsa x foc #give elsa a girlfriend #my writing #anna x kristoff #fanfiction #drama #adventure #writing #fiction

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frizz22 · 5 years

Note

uhh can i request a prompt of hilda comforting zelda with her ptsd post the caligary spell and like... sabrina and ambrose don't know whats going on but they know something happened

This one took me a little longer because I wanted to make sure I got it right. Because I doubt the show will, considering they’ve breezed over pretty much all the trauma these characters have been through. Read on a03

POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING

Hilda knew. She could tell, no matter how good Zelda was at hiding pain, at wearing a mask…. She could tell her sister wasn’t the same. Not since that abhorrent spell Blackwood cast on her.

She was ashamed to say it took her a little longer than it normally would have to notice. But with everything else going on, Ambrose’s near death, Sabrina nearly causing the apocalypse, losing Nick, saving the coven and Zelda taking over as high priestess… well, to say she’d been distracted was an understatement.

But Hilda had a feeling that the events had distracted Zelda as well, giving her something else to focus on and it was only now, that things had calmed down—relatively, that Zelda was coming to terms with what she’d been through.

It was only little things, at first. Zelda took to wearing multiple protection charms, ones that prevented magical attacks and unwanted spells. This, in and of itself, wasn’t a big red flag. Most of the coven had picked up the habit after the hunters and the attempted poisoning by Blackwood.

Next, she noticed that her sister flinched at the sound of small, melodic tunes—like those preprogrammed as alerts in phones and computers. Zelda asked Ambrose to change all of them to no nonsense beeps, claiming it was more business like and therefore better suited for a high priestess. Though skeptical of and confused about the reasoning of the request, Ambrose complied. Hilda suspected the reason Zelda was so adamant about changing the sounds was because they reminded her of the music box Blackwood used to enchant her. Still, it wasn’t anything drastic and Zelda seemed fine otherwise, so Hilda let this go without comment as well.

And then, then there’d been the time Hilda came home from the bookstore and smoke was raising up from behind the house. Rushing around to the garden, Hilda had been stunned to find Zelda standing in front of a large fire with a look of grim determination on her face.

It wasn’t until she edged closer that Hilda realized her sister was burning every piece of clothing she owned with any sort of floral pattern—she’d never had many to begin with, but this purge left Zelda without a shred of floral fabric in her closet.

Hilda tried to talk to her right then, knowing this was in response to the ridiculous dresses Blackwood forced Zelda to wear. But a staff member astral projected onto the property just then and called Zelda away for an emergency at the academy. Her sister having taken it upon herself to act as interim headmistress as well while they searched for a replacement.

Sighing, Hilda carefully put out the fire and disposed of what was left. As she did, Hilda scolded herself for not picking up on how much Zelda was struggling sooner. Though everything was 20/20 in hindsight, wasn’t it?

After that fateful afternoon with the fire, every time Hilda attempted to talk to Zelda a coven member, Sabrina’s antics or Lilith herself would interrupt. That, or Zelda would quite literally run from the conversation.

Then, something happened that even Ambrose and Sabrina couldn’t miss.

They’d all been in sitting at the kitchen table after dinner, chatting and Zelda reading her paper while pouring herself a cup of tea. Sabrina had asked her aunt if she could top off her cup while she had the kettle in hand. Zelda turned without completely looking up from her paper and held the kettle out only to stiffen, hand frozen in midair, the kettle partially tipped but not enough for anything to come out.

Confused, Sabrina looked at Zelda, brows furrowed. “Aunt Zee?” But Zelda was far away, eyes locked onto something in the middle distance only she could see. “Auntie?” Sabrina reached out carefully and touched Zelda’s arm.

Recoiling from the touch, Zelda dropped the kettle, eyes a little wild, and fled from the kitchen without a word.

Hilda followed several minutes later, having had to convince Ambrose and Sabrina to stay downstairs. But the door to the bedroom was locked and Hilda knew how important control and space must be for her sister right now, so she simply knocked gently.

“Zelds?” She called out softly, “can I get you anything?” Silence greeted her offer, before she was brusquely told to go away. Sighing, Hilda did as she was bid and went back downstairs to find the kids hovering at the bottom of the steps.

She did her best to distract them, and herself, but Hilda knew she wasn’t very successful. All of their eyes drifting up to the ceiling where they could hear Zelda relentlessly pacing.

Later that night, after Hilda somewhat forcefully made Ambrose and Sabrina go to bed, she heard a muffled crash come from Zelda’s room. Hurrying to the door, Hilda knocked but heard nothing in reply.

Then a scream.

Hilda forced the door open and shut it again, sealing it magically against her well-meaning, but intrusive, niece and nephew, before finding Zelda sitting up breathing hard. “Zelds—” She reached her sister’s hand, heart sinking when Zelda wrenched away from her.

“No!” She exclaimed, almost falling off the bed in her hasty attempt to increase the distance between them. Zelda’s eyes were a bit wild and unfocused. “It’s not safe, I’m not safe. I’m not in control. I could hurt—"

Hilda held up her hands, hoping to placate her sister. “You are in control, you are. It was a dream. You’re safe, you’re home. I’m here and you’re in control.”

Taking gulping breathes, Zelda focused in on her voice. “Hildie?” She whimpered, visibly trembling.

Hilda nodded and managed to give Zelda a small smile. “Yes, love, I’m here.” She climbed onto the bed slowly and made sure not to touch her sister again. “Tell me about it?” Shuddering, Zelda shook her head and sniffled. Swallowing, but knowing this was likely her only chance, Hilda pressed on. “Zelds, you can’t keep holding this in. It’s unhealthy.”

A long silence followed her statement, and then. “I—” Zelda started hoarsely and licked her lips. “I dreamed you or Sabrina got in my way when I cam for Leviathan.” She whispered, picking at her nail polish—a new nervous habit Hilda had noticed. “Blackwood, he, uh, he’d instructed me to not let anyone get in my way.” Zelda informed her, tears starting to trek down her cheeks. “I prayed I wouldn’t encounter anyone. I knew I’d hurt Sabrina. Hurt you. And I wouldn’t be able to stop it.” Taking a shaky inhale, she continued. “In my dream, you both tried to stop me. And I killed you both.” Her voice cracked but she kept talking. “Which meant I condemned Ambrose and he lost his head. I killed you all and it was all my fault.” Zelda finished, gasping and clenching the comforter in her hands.

Carefully, and very deliberately, Hilda placed a finger under her sister’s chin and lifted it so she could focus on her. “None of that was your fault or under your control. None of it. You hear me?”

And out of nowhere, Zelda slumped against her and sobbed, Hilda tentatively brought her arms around her sister and when Zelda pressed against her harder, Hilda tightened her embrace significantly.

“You can put on a brave face for Sabrina and Ambrose, but I know. I never should have let you go back. Never should have made you keep up that disgusting charade.” Hilda muttered, guilt washing through her at the admission. At the time she’d thought nothing of it, Zelda had acted so blithely about it, flipping her hair over her shoulder and making a snarky comment. But Hilda could see the damage now, how awful it must have been for Zelda to march back into that situation and pretend.

But Zelda shook her head, “it was the only—”

“No.” Hilda clung to Zelda harder, “I never should have let you go back. I should’ve gone and killed Blackwood right then and there. He’d have been caught completely off guard. And I could—” she faltered, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I could have protected you from some pain.”

More sobs wracked Zelda’s body and Hilda ran a soothing hand up and down her sister’s back.

Swallowing her own tears, Hilda rested her cheek on top of Zelda’s head. “Tell me the rest? Better out than in, yes?” She asked softly, knowing she might be pushing too far, but also knowing her sister couldn’t internalize this any longer.

Zelda shuddered against her, “I was, was aware the whole time. Trapped. Trapped inside my head, banging against the sides, trying to speak, to control my body… but nothing was under my control. I had a front row seat to my life, to seeing myself used like a puppet. I was sealed inside, with no say in anything and Faustus he still, he—” she gulped, unable to finish and for several minutes they sat in silence.

“He took away my choice, Hildie.” She managed, now picking at her cuticles, some of which were beginning to bleed. Hilda gently released Zelda from her hug and took her hands into her own to stop the action. Zelda blinked and looked at her hands, unaware of what she’d been doing, but nodded minutely in thanks before leaning heavily against Hilda once more and resting her head on her sister’s shoulder. “He took and took and took. We’d always, at least in the bedroom, same page. But then he took it all away and took what he wanted still.”

Something dangerous sparked inside Hilda, though Zelda wasn’t forming completely coherent sentences, she understood what her sister was unable to say…. What she’d likely refused to truthfully label until now. Blackwood was a dead man, well, he’d already been that, but Hilda would make sure she got some alone time with her former brother-in-law before they put him to death. But fantasies of torture could wait, Zelda needed her. “Oh, Zelds, I—”

“When does it get better, Hildie?” She whispered wretchedly, “how does it get better?”

Gently wiping her sister’s face and tucking some hair behind her ear, Hilda bit her lip, unsure. “Well, tonight I’ll make you some tea with a little foxglove in it, you’ll get a good night’s sleep. And when you wake up in the morning, you’ll go to work, talk with other teachers and coven members, break up stupid teenage witch fights and then you’ll come home. And we’ll all eat dinner together, maybe read or do puzzles afterwards before going to bed. And I will sit by your side until you fall asleep. And the next day, we’ll do the same and it will hurt a tiny bit less. And the next day after that will hurt even less.

“Oh, Zelds, I hope that’s true, I do. I pray to Satan or Lilith or whoever we’re supposed to worship now that that’s true. But I don’t know,” she breathed, hating that she couldn’t give her sister the definitive answer she likely craved. “I’ve never been where you are.”

Zelda gave her a tremulous smile, “that’s alright. What matters is that you’re here.” She whispered, lacing her fingers with Hilda’s and exhaling shakily.

A few more tears leaked down Hilda’s face, “and I always will be.” She promised fiercely, vowing to never let anything or anyone hurt her big sister again.

#caos #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #Zelda Spellman #hilda spellman #Spellman sisters #Spellman siblings #sabrina spellman #ambrose spellman #writing prompt #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3fic #ao3 #netflix #trauma #comfort

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osmw1 · 5 years

Text

Poison-Wielding Fugitive Chapter 53

‘Actually, all of those weapons are quite common. However, the fact remains that there are many bonus effects. It certainly says a lot of the blacksmith’s skills.’

Huh… so that’s the difference skill makes.

‘They are twice, perhaps three times as powerful as their average counterparts. Even the normal ones cost quite a lot.’

These weapons are nothing to sneeze at then. I’m not exactly sure how this world works regarding quality and equipment, but I do know that we were lent some good stuff.

I try out the crossbow. It’s got some heft to it, heavier than the Rapid Feather Crossbow I’ve been using. I know how good the equipment Veno gave me is just by this. And this crossbow doesn’t have Auto Reload, which means I’ll have to do it myself after every shot. Well, this is how they normally are anyway, so I’ve got to get used to it.

Uhh… do I crank this bit here? As I turn the winch, the whole thing creaks and the string moves back. Oh, it’s not as stiff as I thought it’d be. A ka-chik tells me that the crossbow is now cocked. I place a bolt in the groove.

Sure seems hard to shoot this thing quickly. Not that it actually takes a lot of time to cock and load the crossbow, but it’s completely different than what I’ve been doing up to now.

‘And because of that, its power is also different than your previous crossbow.’

That’s right… you did mention that it’s like three times stronger than my Rapid Feather Crossbow. I’m looking forward to seeing how it’ll turn out to be after Wayne fixes it up.

“Let us depart at once. Follow me,” said Celes as she led us out the door.

We’ve set our destination to a mine a little ways away town. They say adventurers like to go after the ores there. Not only are the ores of good quality, it’s also peculiar in that there’s a bit of magic in them. Because of that, monsters gathered around the area, distorted the space, and created a dungeon. Miasma also comes spewing out of it, so it’s not quite inhabitable. But it seems like both adventurers and the people find the mine indispensable. And so, that’s the dungeon we’re headed to.

The day after we departed, we encountered trouble on our journey. We were riding in the wagon when suddenly, we were told that highwaymen were upon us. It seems like they were after the merchant’s cargo ahead of us. For better or worse, they found us instead. We hopped off the wagon and entered battle.

“Move out! Be alert!”

Celes leaps out of the carriage and with her sword, she rapidly slashes at her opponent. Geez, the way she moves makes her look like she’s straight out of Dynasty Warriors or something. The bandits are all but two-bit chumps.

“Mu!”

Muu takes the lead and rushes in with his axe. I didn’t want to take any chances, so I loaded up my crossbow with a bolt enchanted with Paralyzing Poison. I take careful aim… but Arleaf shoots out Fire Bullet. “Fire Bullet!”

I think you could say it was immediately after she finished casting her spell. A mass of fire appears in front of Arleaf, travels towards the bandits, but merely grazes their shoulders. That’s some impressive firepower.

“Augh, gaaaaaah!” “Th-They’re traveling with some crazy powerful adventurers. Skedaddle!” “Aah! Get me outta here!”

The highwaymen turn tail and escape at full speed. Other adventurers and merchants with us had a dumbfounded look on their faces. Then they all started clapping.

“All bark and no bite. I hope they learned their lessons.”

Celes spat out her words as she watched the bandits run away.

“How formidable you are for such a girl at your age… now we needn’t worry on our travels!” “Aye. I witnessed it.” “I was nervous a-and so I exerted a little too much mana…” ‘Hmph… the lass has indeed become much stronger in her magics. Thou needst not be afraid of small fry like them.’ “Mu!”

At any rate, we got the bandits to leave us without incident. In this moment, though, you can see that Arleaf realized that she became stronger.

‘The lass is quite capable now. And especially with her weapon, her fire magic is very powerful.’

And that’s to Veno’s standards too. But to me, it seems like I’m getting left behind.

“Such power especially for an elementary fire spell like that… you are so strong that I would like to scout you for my agency.” “It is simply that my level is high. I apologize for not being able to control my powers.” “Is that right? But I think you have a lot of talent…” “Yes. I am level 63 right now.”

Oh, right. It’s Veno’s fault that Arleaf is now double our level. She’s so strong that she even caught the attention of a top-tier warrior like Celes. Which reminds me, I was planning to get Arleaf to level us up.

“That is actually quite high… but you seem like you are still in your base class. Are you not planning to advance classes?” “Uhh… umm, I got to where I am in a less than ideal way and so all my available jobs are prohibited ones.” “What did you—no, that’s why you didn’t advance. I am sorry for bringing it up.”

Their conversation got a little awkward. There’s nothing that special about me, though I’m not exactly aiming for the top.

“Then, Ms. Arleaf, are you focusing on helping others and gaining experience for now?” “My plan is to help Yukihisa level up.” “I see. Then let us help Mr. Cohgray become stronger.” “All right.”

It doesn’t seem like they’re about to let me in their conversation. Well, whatever. Oh, and by the way, it seems like they sent people to chase after the highwaymen. But since the bastard were too quick, our fighters returned shortly afterwards.

“We’ll be safe with such powerful mages and warriors. We’re counting on you.” “Leave it to me.” “Ah-haha…”

Arleaf forces a smile. It seems to be rough for her seeing how her magic is even stronger than she expected. And don’t forget how she was even breaking doors. Arleaf is beyond us mere mortals now.

‘Thou must be glad thy fantasies have become true. Perhaps I shall allow you to use knives now.’

Hey, not so loud! What if she hears you?!

‘Fret not.’

previously: /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /ch010/ /ch011/ /ch012/ /ch013/ /ch014/ /ch015/ /ch016/ /ch017/ /ch018/ /ch019/ /ch020/ /ch021/ /ch022/ /ch023/ /ch024/ /ch025/ /ch026/ /ch027/ /ch028/ /ch029/ /ch030/ /ch031/ /ch032/ /ch033/ /ch034/ /ch035/ /ch036/ /ch037/ /ch038/ /ch039/ /ch040/ /ch041/ /ch042/ /ch043/ /ch044/ /ch045/ /ch046/ /ch047/ /ch048/ /ch049/ /ch050/ /ch051/ /ch052/ /ch053/ /next/

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zellestial · 6 years

Note

you know... junhong and those lights just gave me an idea for an au... where there’s fairies of all kinds... and all bap’s members are fairies... and junhong is a light fairy... don’t know if anyone ever wrote about this but would be cool or maybe i just need to stop reading fantasy books and sleep more

Late and hastily written but, take a bedtime story from me as a thank you for this inspiration, Monis! Here’s to sleeping more, yet never abandoning the fantasy! ✨

Summers have always beenhazy for Jung Daehyun. For some reason, despite the abundant memories he’s madeduring the season in the sun, they still only come off as cloudy images of his friends’ smiles, and muffled, shared laughter in his mind.

Yet during the summer night Daehyun finds himself walking in the woods, with directions written over thetext on his phone. Youngjae told him to meet him and Yongguk there in thenight. It’s a great place to hang out, trust us, he’s said. We’llbring snacks too!

Daehyun settled tobelieve in his childhood friends whom he hasn’t seen for years. Moving duringhigh school and college really separated them for a long time. He has nevereven been to this part of this woods, he realizes, looking around with theflashlight he brought with him. The trees are dark green under the moon, thewind is whispering rustled leaves, and Youngjae left delicately painted arrows—which suspiciously smell like crushed petals— onthe barks of huge trees to show Daehyun where to go. It makes things easier, andDaehyun’s glad of it, but also slightly doubtful of what Yongguk and Youngjaeis so excited to show him in the new meeting place.

They never really didgo to school together. They met in the summers of their childhood, in the samewoods, when the eleven year old Daehyun was chasing fireflies, losing alldirections of where he went and where he came from. Yongguk and Youngjae foundhim confused and lost, with sticks in their hands, and just like Daehyun, theywere probably just playing around in the woods. The kids they were in thatfateful summer. The two showing him the way home was the only clear memory he’s had of the season.

And summer became theirtime. Yongguk and Youngjae won’t be there if it isn’t summer, Daehyun hadlearnt. School, they said, and it was in another town. Daehyun neverquestioned it, for some unclear reasons he’s too preoccupied to ponder overnow. They met every summer before Daehyun moved anyway. And before he left thetown with his family, Youngjae and Yongguk came in the autumn to exchange phone numbers with harsh pants because they ran to his house. They never liked running, unlike Daehyun.

It’s a clearing in thewoods, where Youngjae’s text has led him to.

Daehyun has never beento this part of the woods. It’s unfamiliar, and he’s starting to doubt hismemories of the woods. Has he really forgotten the layout of the place he spentso much of his childhood summer in? Coming back to this hometown for the firsttime after years and years reminds him that his childhood had been only faint fragments,but definitely fascinating—he’s sure of it—, for the woods offers so manythings to ponder on and play with. The woods is almost a truly, magical place for Daehyun. Even now.

Even if it’s dark there; and themoon’s bright but Daehyun’s used to city lights illuminating the sky by now, notthe stars and the moon. He figures, might as well forget the city for now, andturns off his flashlight. And it becomes darker.

That’s when in themiddle of the clearing, with the grass slightly rustling; small, little lightsstart flickering alive. Daehyun watches in awe, before he realizes how the fairylights are wrapped around a person.

“Daehyun?” Thesilhouette asks.

Daehyun swallows alump in his throat, confused. The voice is unfamiliar, yet the name is definitely his. He walks to the person cautiously yet still keeping a distance because he’s wary, and now he can see it’s just aboy sitting cross legged, looking up at him with the lights softly blinking aroundhim. He’s looking up at Daehyun with shimmering eyes, reminiscent of the night sky above and thelights decorated his messy, light, golden hair like a crown.

“You know my name?”Daehyun blurts, and looks around. Yongguk and Youngjae is not around.

“Of course. Yonggukand Youngjae talk about you a lot.” The boy chuckles, standing up, and he’stall. A second before he was so small, sitting there with the lights wrappedaround him and now Daehyun realizes he’s a tall, young man who’s shyly dustingoff his pants. “I’m glad I finally get to meet you.”

“Oh.” Daehyun blinks,and he tries to appear friendly despite the wonder of how strangely enchantingthis meeting feels. “And you are?”

The boy smiles and thelights on him twinkle along. “Junhong.”

“Why have we never metbefore?”

Junhong shrugs,looking down at his plain white shoes. “We did. I just never properly introducedmyself because I’m too shy.” He holds his hands together in front of him now,the lights softly blinking at Daehyun.

“W-when?” Daehyun’sbreathless, and somehow there’s a sense of familiarity at the sight of thefluttering lights. Familiar like the woods he hadn’t returned to for years,familiar like the many summers ago when Yongguk and Youngjae found him becausehe was too childish, he chased the lights flying away from him.

“That summer.” Junhonganswers, looking at Daehyun again and he tilts his head.

And Daehyun knows whichsummer.

“But—” He laughs,understanding but not fully. “Why are you wrapped in these fairy lights anyway?”

Junhong chuckles andtakes a deep breath, like he’s about to show off something. And maybe he is. “They’renot fairy lights.” He says and at that moment the wind rustles the grass aroundthem and the lights flicker, before floating ever so slightly off Junhong.

Junhong smiles at themand that’s when Daehyun realizes, as the lights flutter, blink, and start orbiting —as if dancing around—the tall male in front of him; they’re fireflies.

How foolish of him toassume those beautiful golden lights were manmade, especially when they’re litin the middle of the woods with no wires or electricity.

“It’s a little darkhere, isn’t it?” Junhong mutters and the fireflies spread around instantly,surrounding them both with golden light in the dark woods.

“What are you?”Daehyun blurts out of amazement. It feels like a dream. Like a dream he’s hadmany summers ago.

Yet immediately his face turns red,realizing how the question could have been worded more appropriately, butJunhong grins almost sheepishly in return.

“I’m a light fairy.”He says softly and Daehyun almost laughs at the incredulity of it all before herealizes that Junhong’s words are true and he feels it to be true.

“Daehyun!” A voicecalls from behind and Daehyun cranes his neck to look in surprise.

He grins when herealizes it’s Yongguk and Youngjae. And somehow the hazy, yet magical memoriesof his childhood makes sense now, when he sees the flower crowns on both of hisfriends’ heads, and the fruits in a basket Youngjae’s carrying.

“I see you’ve metJunhong.” Yongguk smiles, leading Youngjae to the other two by their intertwinedhands.

“I—yes, and apparentlyhe’s a fairy—wait, will the two of you tell me what all of this is, though?” Daehyun’sbewildered now, because if Yongguk and Youngjae know Junhong, and Junhong is afairy, then they aren’t just friends from another town and why areYongguk and Youngjae holding hands?

Youngjae laughs almost mockingly, his usualattitude never changed even with all the summers Daehyun had missed. “Yes, it’swhat you’re thinking. We’re fairies too.” He tells it like it’s just a passing breeze, but Daehyun’s rustled like a young tree.

“Fairies? The twoof you?”

“This is our woods,” Yongguksays calmly, his voice like the gentle river running in this very woods, where Daehyun would wash his face in after a day of sweating under the summer sun. “And I’d like to apologize for making your memories hazy all these time,Daehyun. Which is why we’re here today, with Junhong, who can light up thememories again. And you’ll remember. You’ll remember all the summers clearly.”

Daehyun cocks aneyebrow, and turns to Youngjae.

“I brought snacks,didn’t I?” He merely says, lifting the basket full of cherries and peaches.

“I’m not sure if I—”

“Come on, we’ll getyou to meet Himchan and Jongup and we’ll talk about everything.” Youngjae cuts him off with a sigh, grabbing his arm to lead him to another place.

And little did heknow, they really went to another place. But that’s another timeto ponder on because he’s got the whole summer now. Including those he’s livedyears and years ago. And the sun, the fireflies, his friends’ smiles, and their shared laughter. Daehyun remembers.

Daehyun remembers all his summers clearlynow.

#b.a.p #slipped in a little #daelo #and #bangjae #just because #ask #jungphile #im sorry i didnt make daehyun a fairy but I just want him to be the one who believes in the fantasy #i turned them all into yokais instead didn't i #aaaahhh #i havent written a fantasy in like #5000 years #ok i lied its actually five years but thats a long time #im just uh gonna crawl back to my term papers lmao #mine

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sachertortes · 6 years

Note

OMG PROMPTS YOU ARE AMAZING AND I LOVE YOU. wintershock nobility #1???

@bloomsoftly PROMPTS TIMES YES!! ALL OF THE

Prompt: Nobility themed, #1, “Your country’s trying to take over/annex my country and you’re making it difficult to hate you because you’re so nice and attractive stop it”

Pairing: Bucky x Darcy

Rating: T

Notes: Nobility/Fantasy AU

“So he’s arrived today at court. At the palace. My palace,” Darcy said, turning to her Advisor.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he replied.

Darcy frowned. She heard many things of this Prince James Buchanan Barnes and she was mostly certain none of it could be true.

Just the other morning, she’d hid in the corridor to listen to the maids talking about him as they were dusting in the music room.

“I heard he and his brother led their army over the Northern Pass during a blizzard and did not lose one man,” Ingrid said breathlessly.

“I heard he fought off a dozen men with his bare hands and won. And that a wizard gave him an enchanted arm of silver and his brother hair of gold,” Emmaline added in an awed whisper. “…They – they call him the Winter Soldier.” Then in a softer, dreamier voice, “They say he’s as tall and strong as a bear and his eyes are like glaciers.”

“Why, Emmaline! You naughty girl!” teased Ingrid.

“Oh, hush!” giggled Emmaline and Darcy left after that, leaving the girls to the rest of their work.

In the receiving room, Darcy now waited for that fearsome sounding man. He’d probably arrive cloaked in bearskin and covered in dirt or something, the barbarian.

“Well. There’s nothing to be done about that, I suppose.” She stood in a rustle of silk and faille then glided her hands over the front of her gown, over tiny pearls and embroidered roses.

“We’ll just have to throw him in the dungeon,” she continued breezily, flipping her curls over her shoulder. “The dark one. With all the spiders.”

Coulson merely raised one brow and intoned drily, “You know we don’t have dungeons.”

“Then I’ll build one! I’m the Queen! At least for a little while longer. I can definitely build a dungeon where some snivelly little Prince from an invading country can rot forever in the dark! Write that down, Coulson – a dark dungeon!”

“Might I remind you that you signed the Treaty and invited him here? And that the country needs the force of his armies?”

But Darcy was on a roll and elected to ignore Coulson’s logic. She tapped a finger to her chin. “Oooh! The Rack! Let’s bring back the Rack!”

“No, Your Majesty.”

“Not even a little one? Just for his legs or something?”

Coulson let out one long-suffering sigh.

If it was meant to chastise her, Darcy wouldn’t know. She’d heard that sigh for most of her life and was immune to it by now.

It was actually Sigh #21. Not as serious as Sigh #1 (The “You Must Stop That This Instant You Are the Leader of Your Country” Sigh) nor as lighthearted as Sigh #32 (The “You Amuse Me, But I’ll Never Say It” Sigh).

“Please, please, be civil. The welcome dinner is tonight – “

“Seat him between the Baroness Mowbray and the Duke Thornton. Perhaps he’ll flee the country out of sheer boredom.”

“And must I remind you that he has large armies and gold which our country needs at the moment?”

Darcy glared at him, then after realizing that she wasn’t going get any reaction other than his usual placidness, turned to glare at the dour portrait of her great-great-grandmother.

“Yes,” she ground out. “That’s the second time in five minutes you’ve mentioned that. He deserves the spidery dungeons. Who does he think he is?! We’ve always been neutral and we haven’t needed his stupid army or his stinking gold or his dumb – “

“Your Majesty –“

“Stupid face –“

“Your Majesty –“

“Or his so-called magical –“

“DARCY.”

“Yes, Coulson,” Darcy sighed, turning. “Oh!”

Standing there slightly behind Coulson was a man who could not be anyone other than the Prince.

Prince James was tall, but not as tall as a bear. His shoulders were broad under his black coat. His eyes, though – his eyes were a steely grey-blue, seeming even more light due to his dark brown hair that framed his face. He had obviously not had time to groom, but the days of growth on face only served to accent his already angular jawline, the slight dimple in his chin.

And Darcy could only think to herself, oh, if Emmaline only knew.

“If I am to be thrown in the dungeon, might I beg of the Queen that it be one without spiders? I don’t like spiders.”

“I – I am very sorry. You weren’t meant to hear that.”

Prince James’ lips twitched.

“Yes. I figured.”

“Won’t you please sit?” She shakily gestured to one of the two armchairs. The tea and pastries set up by Coulson were already on the table.

In the awkward silence, Darcy chastised her stupid mouth for running away from her yet again, and busied herself by pouring them both tea.

“I want to – I am here because…Thank you,” Prince James said haltingly, so unlike the smooth, pretty words offered to her by her courtiers.

“It seemed that I did not have much choice,” Darcy answered unable to keep the sadness from weighing down her tone. She’d promised herself that she would cede gracefully, but the thought of a foreign power in her land, her home, made her heart ache.

“I know,” he said, in a voice so low and gentle she strained a little to hear him. “I won’t make you regret it just the same. We need all the assistance we can get. Schmidt’s navy is, as we speak, sailing through the Sapphire Sea.”

Darcy gasped. “So soon?” she asked, heart thumping. And so close?

“Yes. And my men have received intelligence that he could be at your western borders within a month.”

Darcy put down her teacup with a shaking hand.

“But I promise you,” the Prince said, “I promise that he won’t be able to set foot here. Schmidt doesn’t fight honorably, but by the gods, we won’t let him take this part of our continent.”

Darcy clasped her hands tightly together in her lap. Prince James placed one large hand over hers. His calloused skin was warm and the weight a comfort.

From across the room, a soft, polite cough sounded. Coulson.

“I’m sorry.” He quickly drew his hand away. “Please forgive me, I’m unused to…well, all of this.”

“I admit I’ve never seen you or your family at our court.”

“The Barnes’ are – were – a smaller cadet branch. Then my father’s cousin died without an heir, and suddenly I’m being pulled out of military school to attend a proper boarding school. Someone hands me a title and so here I am.” He shifted uncomfortably. Then under his breath, “In this damned jacket which my valet tells me is exquisite but is actually extremely uncomfortable.”

Darcy was unable to help her huff of laughter. “It is a very fine jacket,” she reassured him. “And you look very…” she trailed off, any number of words filling her head.

Fantastic. Handsome. Dashing.

“Yes?”

“Nice. Good. You look good in the jacket.”

Prince James had a tease at the corners of his easy smile. “Why thank you, Your Highness.”

“Darcy,” she said, surprising herself a little. “I’ve threatened to imprison you, so I think I should allow you the use of my name.”

“Alright, Darcy. Please call me James.”

“Well, James, I hear much about you. Is any of it true?”

“Much of it is exaggeration.”

“What of your brother? Is he as fierce a fighter as I’ve heard?”

“Well, that part is true. Sometimes I have to pull him out of fights.”

“And other times?”

“And other times I join in,” he admitted with a chuckle and a sideways glance.

“And leading your army through a blizzard?”

“It was…a small blizzard?”

He was downright bashful, and Darcy found herself smiling into her teacup. “Well, wizards don’t exist so that part of your lore cannot be true.”

James laughed. “So we’ve heard the same tales. The only person who gave my brother his golden hair is our mother.”

“And I know you can’t possibly have a silv-“ but then Darcy’s eyes alighted on James’ left hand, covered in a black leather glove. “I – Oh, I mean –“ she stuttered.

James only smiled ruefully and pulled off the glove, revealing his silver hand. Darcy couldn’t help her intake of breath. “The silver arm is real but I’m afraid no wizard was kind enough to gift it to me or enchant it.” He swallowed audibly. “This was from a run-in with Schmidt’s men. You see now what I mean when I say that he won’t fight honorably. They do not believe in such things. All other countries until now have honored the neutrality of yours. He won’t. He doesn’t care. Your land, your people, are a means to an end.”

“What – what end?” Darcy asked even though it was with a sickening feeling that she already knew.

“He wants to conquer the world.” Then he leaned forward and looked at her with those ice blue eyes, solemn and serious again. “This treaty – Please don’t think this won’t mean everything to us - to my country, and to my men. Your promise of safe passage and the resources your lands and your people can provide…It is everything to us.”

The way he was looking at her…Darcy’s heart beat a hard rhythm against her bodice and she felt her face warm.

“Yes. Of course. It’s – it’s why I signed the treaty, James.”

“I am grateful every day for it,” James said softly. “Oh, yes. I’ve brought you something,” he said, almost mischievous. “In thanks for your kindness.” He looked to Coulson, who was standing patiently at the door, and nodded. Coulson then spoke a few words to the guards beyond.

In a moment, two guards were lugging in a smallish chest. It was lacquered onyx and was covered with sterling designs of waves and stars. There were bars at the top and when she glanced at her guards they looked strangely apprehensive.

Still, she knew that nothing inside would be truly dangerous. Not with Coulson and his team double and triple checking everything for her.

James carried in the box the rest of the way and placed it at her feet.

She reached down and unlatched the heavy gold hinge.

She expected gold coins or maybe jewels - necklaces or earrings or tiaras that were usually gifted to Queens. But when she opened the box the little thing that blinked back at her drew the breath from her lungs.

“A – a dragon!” Darcy exclaimed, overjoyed.

The young dragon, sighting Darcy, squirmed out its cage, and flew-hopped up to land itself in her skirts. Satisfied at the softness of her dress, it folded back its leathery wings and stared at her with inquisitive black eyes.

She took in its shimmering grey-white scales and the bright blue tips of its wings with awe.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” she breathed. Hesitantly, she put out her hand. It sniffed at her for a moment then let her scratch lightly at its neck. “I’ll name it…”

Then the dragon opened its tiny mouth, revealing a series of little white teeth still on their way to being fangs, and attempted a roar. What resulted was a loud, raspy chirp that ended with a small burst of blue, crackling lightening emitted from its mouth, then disappeared just as quickly.

Darcy jolted in response then laughed delightedly. “I’ll name it Taser!”

In response, Taser cooed several times, blinked slowly, and curled up in her lap.

“A strange name, but it seems she likes it.”

“She? How wonderful. I always need more strong women beside me.” Darcy petted Taser along her spine, and Taser arched into her touch. “Thank you, James.”

“You’re very welcome.”

They chatted for a while after that. He told her of allies he’d made on his journey (an archer with impeccable aim, a man who could run so fast he was a mere blur), and she told him of her country – of the endless groves of oranges in the south, of how her cousin Jane’s work in the east made the entire area a center of learning for women and men both.

When word was received that Prince James’ quarters were ready, James took his leave but not before clasping her hand and bowing somewhat stiffly. When he smiled at her, she found herself smiling back.

“Well, Your Majesty? Shall I summon the builders to begin digging a foundation for the dungeons?” Coulson asked, when they alone. “Or does the Prince live another day?”

“He lives another day,” Darcy said, hiding her pinking cheeks behind a fall of hair. She trailed her hand down the smooth scales of the young dragon now perched on her shoulder. It purred loudly in her ear. “And as for the dinner tonight?”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Please sit him next to me.”

#wintershock #bucky x darcy #darcy lewis #darcyland #wintershock fic #prompt fill #sachertortes fic

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ponyregrets · 7 years

Note

ok fantasy again but this time someone gets accidentally hit with an honesty spell! you havent done that one before right? youve written so many things that despite the fact that ive read it all at least twice mostly 3 or 4 times i still struggle to keep track

I have not written that! And I ended up tweaking it a bit so it’s Bellamy and Clarke taking truth serum as part of a bet but whatev. Set at a generic magical high school equivalent, fyi.

AO3!

Of course, it's Murphy's idea.

"Griffin wouldn't make it a day, telling everyone the truth."

It's not like Bellamy disagrees. Clarke Griffin is one of those people who lives off of half-truths and insinuations. He's not sure how much she outright lies, but she absolutely massages the truth until it says what she wants it to say.

And sometimes it does piss Bellamy off, but in a guilty way, because he does the same thing, and it's easy to dislike people for reminding him of things he doesn't always love about himself.

It should be easy to dislike Clarke for all sorts of things. He has a list a mile long of things she does that piss him off. And yet, somehow, he can't quite talk himself around to actually hating her. Not even close.

It's the kind of personal failing he has not intention of telling anyone else about, so he smirks at Murphy and says, "Yeah, she'd probably die right on the spot."

"That's what I'm saying," says Murphy. He holds up a vial and shakes it, grinning. "Truth serum. Think you could get it in her food?"

The thing is, Bellamy knows he could. He argues with Clarke all the time, often at meals, and he wouldn't have any trouble slipping it into her drink or her food or something while he was doing it. Clarke isn't always that observant when she's busy fighting with him. He'd have no trouble at all.

And everyone is watching him, which means he that he can't not do it. Not without saying that he thinks it's a dick move and Clarke doesn't deserve it. No one deserves it, if he's really honest. Which he isn't, because honesty, true honesty, the kind that comes from potions and spells, the kind that you can't get out of, that kind of honesty is fucked up. Even the most honest people tell lies. And Clarke isn't the most honest person, of course. It's not like Murphy is wrong to think she'd suffer under truth serum. But Bellamy doesn't know what an honest Clarke Griffin looks like, and he's honestly a little afraid to know.

But he's not going to tell Murphy that.

So he takes the vial with a smirk. "Yeah," he says. "I bet I can get her to take it."

Clarke is sitting alone at breakfast the next morning, all her attention on a book, and she keeps missing her tea cup when she tries to pick it up because she's not paying any attention. He could slip the serum in without her even knowing he was there, let alone the potion.

Still, there's a large part of Bellamy that likes Clarke. Much larger than the part of himself that doesn't like her. He doesn't want to, because she's the golden girl, the rich, perfect princess who's never had to work a day in her life. But after three years in school together, he's realized that even though she doesn't have to work, she does. Clarke is the real deal, and even if she's privileged, she's smart and capable and good. Bellamy isn't her friend, doesn't know how to be, but--honestly, sometimes he wishes he could figure it out.

Which is why he sits down next to her and puts the vial between them, blocked by his own body, so Murphy won't be able to see that he's showing Clarke.

"I'm busy," she says, not looking at him. "Whatever you want, I'm not interested."

"Really?"

She does look up then, just to glare at him. "What makes you think I'd be interested in anything you have to say?"

"Your spirit of adventure."

Her eyes flick down to the vial. "You aren't seriously trying to get me high, are you?"

"Think of it more as a wager. Twenty-four hours, no lies."

Clarke picks up the vial, gives it a pensive shake. "It's not much of a bet if we can't lie," she says. "That's not actually a challenge."

"Which one of us lasts longer," he says. "Before we decide to play sick instead of being honest."

She puts the vial back down on the table. "Why don't you just tell me what's really going on?"

It's basically what he was expecting, and he leans in close. "Look, I know I'm an asshole, but I'm not enough of an asshole to force you to tell the truth. That's dangerous, if you don't know about it. But Murphy came up with this, and he thinks I'm here, sneaking this into your drink to mess with you. So--"

"So you're going to take it too?" she asks. "That's your solution? Have you thought about just saying no? He's your underling, right? Aren't you supposed to be in control of them?"

He shrugs. "Maybe I'm curious what it looks like, if Clarke Griffin actually tells the truth."

She considers the vial. "What do I get? If I last longer than you."

"What do you want?"

She drums her fingers on the table. "Ancient Languages."

"What about them?"

"That's my worst class. I could get by the last few years, but this year is--it's bad. Once we get out of memorization and into theory, I suck. I could use some help, and I know you're the teacher's pet."

His heart does some odd things in his chest. Clarke can ask him for anything, and she's asking him for help. With her homework.

It takes a real effort to not grin.

"Yeah, I can do that."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"It's a bet. What do you want?"

"Enchantments," he says. It feels fair; that's his worst subject, the same as Ancient Languages is for Clarke. And if her reward is going to involve spending time with him, his is going to involve spending time with her too.

"Yeah, you suck at Enchantments."

"So, if I lose, you help me with Enchantments."

Clarke takes the vial out of his hand, toying with it thoughtfully. "Whoever can last longer?"

"It'll be gone in twenty-four hours. So, yeah. Whichever one of us can be in public longer."

"Deal," she says, and takes off the top of the vial to take a long sip.

When she hands it back, Bellamy toys with the idea of not taking it, but he's not that kind of asshole. They have an agreement, and he's sticking with it.

He finishes the potion and stuffs the empty vial in his pocket. "Are you feeling it?" he asks.

"I think so. You?"

His stomach is all knots and swirls. It's a little alarming. "Definitely." He exhales. "Okay. Well--have a good day?"

"You too. But--" She worries her lip. "We should pick a meeting time. Tonight. Before it wears off. So we'll be honest about how long we could last."

"Oh, yeah. Uh--eleven?" he offers. "By the lake? I assume you can sneak out."

"Yeah, I can make it. See you tonight, Bellamy."

"And in class," he points out. "Unless you're bailing before first period."

"You wish." She opens her book. "Much as I'd like to keep arguing with you, you should go. I have to study."

It can't be a lie; it's not possible. Clarke Griffin would genuinely like to keep arguing with him.

"Hope you do well on whatever you're studying for," he says, just as truthfully, and steals her apple as he goes.

It's probably going to be an incredibly shitty day. But he still can't help grinning.

The problem with truth serums is not that they make you tell the truth. Bellamy lies while (technically) telling the truth all the time. It's easy to deceive without lying, and truth serums are designed to prevent that. From what he's read, you can tell a half truth, and then the serum will just make you spit out the rest.

Which is why the first person he goes to is Miller.

"I need you to keep Murphy away from me today."

Miller raises his eyebrows. "Yeah? Why?"

"Because I bet Clarke I'd last longer on truth serum than she would."

"What does that even mean?"

"Not much," Bellamy admits. He nearly adds honestly, but it's redundant. "I said one of us was going to give up and decide we couldn't interact with people, but we're both too stubborn, so we're both going to last the whole day, no problem."

There's a pause. "Okay, start over. Why did you take it?"

"Because I wanted to be fair," he says. And then the words just--swell in his mouth. He can't quite explain it. He didn't even think he wasn't telling the whole truth, but the serum disagreed. "I wanted her to take it, but I couldn't just sneak it into her breakfast, I'd be an asshole. She had to agree."

Miller is kind of staring at him, unimpressed, and Bellamy can't blame him. But all he says is, "Hey, did you want to make out with me sophomore year?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck, I knew it. I should have asked."

Bellamy snorts. "So, you're going to help, right?"

"Yeah. I've got your back."

Third period, Raven Reyes sits down next to him and says, "So, you have to tell me the truth about everything, right?"

"Yeah. Clarke told you?"

"I assume you have someone watching your back to make sure you don't get fucked over by this too."

"Miller. But here you are, so he's not doing a good job."

"Maybe he just knows I'm trustworthy."

Bellamy snorts, but what comes out of his mouth is is, "Yeah, he knows I don't care about telling you anything." Raven's cool. She's not going to fuck him over.

That makes her laugh. "Wow, you really are whammied, huh?"

"I assumed you tested it on Clarke."

"Obviously. But maybe you were fucking with her."

"I wouldn't do that," he says. "Not with something like this." Something about the statement makes him feel odd, and he clears his throat. "What did you ask her? To see if it worked."

"See, I didn't take a truth potion, so I don't have to tell you." She considers. "You planning to ask Clarke any asshole shit?"

"Not planning to," he says. "It's not like we talk much, most days. But I told Miller to keep Murphy away from her. You might want to help with that. It was his idea to give her the serum, so he might try something."

"Does he know you took it?"

"No. You think I want Murphy to have full access to everything I've ever thought?"

"You should really reconsider your personal relationships," says Raven, tapping her jaw. "It's pretty fucked up that you trust me and Clarke more with your total honesty than someone who's supposed to be one of your best friends."

"If I knew how to be friends with Clarke, I'd be doing it," he says, and then clamps his mouth shut, like that would actually work. But apparently that's sufficient truth on the subject. Nothing else spills out.

"You know you're a dumbass, right?" Raven asks, finally.

"Yeah," he says, without any assistance from the serum. "I know."

He goes outside for lunch, away from his regular table, and he's only there for a few minutes before Clarke sits down across from him. She looks less frazzled than she did this morning, and he doesn't think he has to smile at her, but he wants to, and he might as well be honest about it.

"Hey. How was your test?"

"It was a presentation. It went pretty well, but you know you're majorly advantaged in this thing, right?"

"I know," he says. "But I'm not sure what specifically you mean."

"I had a Q and A session after my presentation," she says, and he winces. "Yeah. It wasn't that obvious, and Professor Pike just told me that while he valued my honesty about how much time I'd put into the project and how late I was up working on it, I didn't have to share that. And he told me to do it earlier next time, if possible."

"Sorry."

"I assume you got to make sure you'd done all your work and didn't get caught admitting that you didn't read the chapter."

"Maybe I always do the reading," he says, and then, immediately, "Yeah, no, I planned it. I made sure I was on top of all my work and read about what I should expect from having to tell the truth."

"Wow, you really wanted to win this meaningless bet, huh?" she teases.

"I wasn't just going to go in blind. But I don't really care about winning. I figure we're both going to make it the whole day anyway. You're too stubborn to quit." He thinks he's done again, but the serum doesn't. "I'll help you with Ancient Languages either way," he adds. "All you have to do is ask. I like hanging out with you."

"I like hanging out with you too. I wish we did it more," says Clarke, and bites the side of her mouth. "So--this is really stressful."

"Which part?" he asks.

"The serum. I haven't had anything bad happen, but I can't stop worrying that something will. Someone's going to ask me the wrong thing and they'll realize it and there go all my secrets."

Bellamy swallows hard. "It's really that bad?"

"I don't know," she says, and her mouth twists a little. "It feels that bad. Someone's going to ask me something that I'd usually be polite about, and I won't. You must get it. You're polite sometimes, right?" she teases, but the potion kicks in. "I know you are."

"You know I am." He wets his lips. "So why did you take it? You could have said no. I was expecting you to."

"Because you asked," she says. She looks down, but of course she can't actually stop talking. "You don't really ask me to do much, and I always want to spend more time with you, so of course I said yes. It's just a day, right? I can survive."

"Uh--if I ask for more details about that, am I being an asshole?" Bellamy asks. His mouth is dry. Clarke likes hanging out with him. She always wants to spend more time with him. Clarke secretly likes him, except that it's not a secret anymore.

"Yes," she says, but she's smiling. "Raven said you wanted to be friends with me."

"I do," he says, and then, of course, "I also want to kiss you. Right now. And later. Always, basically. I always want to kiss you. And--"

The press of her lips shuts him up, but his mouth is still trying to detail all the things he wants to do to her, because fuck truth serum. They could be making out, and instead, he's still trying to talk.

Clarke pulls back, laughing, just in time for him to say, "I think I'm kind of in love with you."

She grins. "You know, there are better ways to confess than truth serum."

"Yeah. But at least you know I really mean it."

"There is that." She kisses him, but just for a second before her own honesty kicks in. "I think I'm kind of in love with you too."

"Oh."

This time, when he kisses her, neither of them has anything to interrupt with, so he just keeps going, hand tangling in her hair, mouth urgent. And she responds just as eagerly, smiling and tugging him closer, perfect.

"Sorry this is so stressful for you," he murmurs, and she laughs.

"I'm feeling a lot better about it."

"Still. I was going somewhere with that."

"Yeah?"

"If we both skip our afternoon classes, no one loses the bet. We both give up at the same time."

She grins. "I was actually thinking the same thing."

"Clarke Griffin wants to blow off class to make out?" he teases. "I never thought I'd see the day."

"Well, I hear you do it all the time, so--"

"Not nearly as much as people think," he says. "I care about my grades. And I haven't wanted to, lately. Most of my afternoon classes are with you, so I'd rather be there."

She bites her lip. "You better keep telling me how much you like me after this wears off."

"As much as you want," he promises, and doesn't need the serum to know that he means it.

Murphy corners him the next day. "Dude, don't tell me you used truth serum to get Griffin to admit she's into you. That's not how it was supposed to go."

Given that Harper McIntire walked in on them making out when she left class due to actually being sick, it's pretty hard to deny that he and Clarke hooked up. Plus, he found her on the way to breakfast and held her hand, which she didn't seem to mind, and he honestly has no desire to pretend that he's not dating her. He'd like to tell everyone that he's dating her.

But, again, Harper caught them, and their rivalry is the stuff of legends, so the news spread fast. He doesn't have to tell anyone; they already know.

Still, he appreciates the ability to not tell Murphy the whole truth. It feels like such a luxury. "Maybe when she's honest with herself, I'm just irresistible."

Murphy just rolls his eyes. "So, what, you're just dating her now? That's what a whole vial of truth serum got me?"

"Yeah, that sounds about right." He claps Murphy on the shoulder, gives him a huge, stupid grin. "Honestly? I can't thank you enough."

#pawabowa

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mysteryshelf · 6 years

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FRIDAY SF & FANTASY - Esme's Wish

Welcome to

THE PULP AND MYSTERY SHELF!

DISCLAIMER: This content has been provided to THE PULP AND MYSTERY SHELF by YA Bound Book Tours. No compensation was received. This information required by the Federal Trade Commission.

Esme’s Wish by Elizabeth Foster Genre: YA Fantasy/Mystery Release Date: October 2017 Odyssey Books

Summary:

This was her last chance. Her hand twisted high in the air.

When fifteen-year-old Esme Silver objects at her father’s wedding, her protest is dismissed as the impulsive reaction of a stubborn, selfish teenager. Everyone else has accepted the loss of Esme’s mother – so why can’t she?

But Esme is suspicious. She is sure that others are covering up the real reason for her mother’s disappearance – that ‘lost at sea’ is code for something more terrible, something she has a right to know.

After Esme is accidentally swept into the enchanted world of Aeolia, the truth begins to unfold. With her newfound friends, Daniel and Lillian, Esme retraces her mother’s steps in the glittering canal city of Esperance, untangling the threads of Ariane’s double life. But the more Esme discovers about her mother, the more she questions whether she really knew her at all…

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Preview part of the first chapter on Kobo – https://www.goodreads.com/buy_buttons/6/follow?book_id=33634667

Purchase your copy of Esme’s Wish at elizabethfoster.com.au

Book Trailer:

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Advance Praise:

“I found the story very unique […] this book overtook my expectations […] A beautiful, fantastical mystery. I would love to read multiple books following this one.” – Tamsyn, 15

“I was enchanted by the world, awed by the creatures and as motivated as Esme to find out what happened to her mother.” – Angie, 14

Esme’s Wish is a captivating, excellently-written novel. Author Elizabeth Foster did a great job of keeping me reading as I followed Esme’s journey to investigate the disappearance of her mother, a brilliant painter. […] This colorful, well-constructed tale is as much detective story as fantasy and deftly blends both elements into a page-turning plot that hooks the reader in. I was fascinated by the creative water world of Aeolia, described in Elizabeth Foster’s limpid, seductive prose. –Sarah Scheele for Readers’ Favorite 5 STARS

Interview with the Author

What initially got you interested in writing?

I’ve always loved to read. One day, many years ago, after finishing the Harry Potter series, I realised how much I missed the sense of escapism it gave me, and I decided to write a book of my own.

What genres do you write in?

Esme’s Wish is a fantasy with elements of mystery and adventure.

What drew you to writing these specific genres?

My favourite book as a child was The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. I loved the idea of climbing into a wardrobe and ending up somewhere entirely different. I like travelling, too, and I love magic, so the genre just seems a natural fit.

How did you break into the field?

Work, work, work. It has taken a long time to fulfill my dream of becoming a published author. I worked very hard at every element of my craft, listened to all the feedback I could and rewrote endless drafts. Eventually my work made its way out of the slush pile (that being the morass of unread manuscripts that pile up in a publisher’s inbox.)

What do you want readers to take away from reading your works?

I love to forget about everyday life when I read, and I hope I can provide the same immersion for others, too.

What do you find most rewarding about writing?

When I sit down to write, I enter a bubble which I never want to leave. The hardest part is starting!

What do you find most challenging about writing?

Disciplining myself enough to start! Initially, I also found it very hard to take the critique needed to improve, and deal with rejection from publishers. Eventually I developed the thick skin necessary to survive and realized that criticism is an inevitable part of the creative process.

What advice would you give to people wanting to enter the field?

Read, read, read, but read discerningly. Read widely and read outside your preferred genres. But write about subjects you enjoy, especially when just starting out. The self-doubt can be crippling but if you focus on things that interest you, it is easier to slip out of anxiety and into the world you are writing about.

What type of books do you enjoy reading?

Anything with a great story and an interesting voice, even non-fiction. But mostly classics, fantasy and children’s novels.

Is there anything else besides writing you think people would find interesting about you?

I guess this is still related to writing, but I’m a case in point that it’s never too late to find your passion. When I was younger, I always felt like I should be doing something creative, but I didn’t know what. I delayed exploring my creative side until I was older, and wish I’d listened to that inner voice much earlier. To those who think they’re too old to write (or paint, learn an instrument, anything really): start now, you won’t regret it. And to those who are still young: for the love of god, don’t wait as long as I did!

What are the best ways to connect with you, or find out more about your work?

Find out more about me on my website at elizabethfoster.com.au. Follow me on Instagram or Twitter.

About the Author

Elizabeth Foster read avidly as a child, but only discovered the joys of writing some years ago, when reading to her own kids reminded her of how much she missed getting lost in other worlds. Elizabeth lives in Sydney, where she can be found scribbling in cafés, indulging her love of both words and coffee. Esme’s Wish is her debut novel.

Find out more about Elizabeth at http://www.elizabethfoster.com.au

Author Links:

Goodreads│Twitter│Instagram

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FRIDAY SF & FANTASY – Esme’s Wish was originally published on the Wordpress version of The Pulp and Mystery Shelf with Shannon Muir

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