#yes hello I read stone blind and needed to draw something

[narrenstrich]

#yes hello I read stone blind and needed to draw something #pls ignore the inaccuracies #medusa #stone blind #greek mythology #illustration #mxiiha

[yamisnuffles]

So It Was Arranged

Part 8 of Too Much of a Good Thing

Aziraphale falls in battle and must get back to Crowley.

Read on Ao3

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1066

Aziraphale wondered if humans would ever get tired of fighting. He certainly had, back when humans had only been a sparkle in divine eyes. He vividly remembered thinking, at the very least, the fight with the Fallen would be the last. The Fallen had been dealt with, only the faithful remained in Heaven, and that was that. Even having lived through that, when he was assigned to guard Eden, he hadn’t suspected there would be trouble. It was a fresh start. She had done so much work to make a world for the humans, he couldn’t imagine She would let anything happen to them let alone that Heaven would want fighting.

“What’s this have to do with anything?”

Aziraphale stumbled. He really wasn’t feeling well at all. Too much fighting for too long. He couldn’t quite remember when he’d last stopped. He had stopped at some point, hadn’t he? He was almost certain.

“Aziraphale!”

Aziraphale shook his head. He was hearing things. He would have to add that to the list of problems, along with some sort of problem with his vision and difficulty concentrating.

“Aziraphale, hey, talk to me. Come on.”

There were hands on his shoulders. Aziraphale stared at them until he realized that hands were attached to arms, which were, generally speaking, usually attached to people. His gaze wandered vaguely from delicate hands to bony wrist, on to wiry arms, pointed shoulders, long neck, and finally a face.

“Oh, Crowley. Hello. What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here, are you? Yes. Yes, I definitely remember that much.” Aziraphale’s eyes travelled beyond that beloved face, with its startling golden eyes and crooked nose, to something bright and white and nearly blinding. “You have your wings out? Why have you got your wings out.”

“Why have I— I’m getting you out of here, that’s why.”

“I’m supposed to be here, though. I don’t think I should go anywhere.” Aziraphale’s legs felt shaky and his stomach turned at the prospect of flying. Yes, a quick nap seemed just the ticket. “I think I’d rather stay here and lay down for a moment, my dear.”

His legs gave out but rather than meet with the ground, he found himself in Crowley’s arms. What beloved arms. Thin but willow strong like all of Crowley, so much less likely to snap than Aziraphale.

“No, no, no. Keep your eyes open. Do not close them. Don’t you dare.”

Aziraphale reached out. Crowley’s eyes seemed strange. Watery. He collected a drop on his gloved finger and blinked at it. “Are you… crying? Why are you crying?”

“Because you’re dying, you big idiot. So focus and stay here while I heal you. Fuck, you’ve lost so much blood. It will take me time so stay with me.”

Crowley’s words seemed like they should be angry but they sounded so sad. Aziraphale didn’t understand it. It was only a nap. That wasn’t anything to worry about. Crowley slept all the time. Really, he was being unreasonable.

“Just a small nap,” he mumbled, “and I’ll be right as rain, dearest. So please don’t cry.”

“Don’t. Don’t leave me here. Please. I can’t follow you there.”

Crowley’s voice cracked and something in Aziraphale cracked with it but he could no longer keep his eyes open no matter how he tried. There was a light, bright and warm and irresistible. He needn’t even move toward it. It was the ensnaring drag of the tide and he was far too tired to struggle against the pull. He was going home. He was released from his body with a sigh that he hoped sounded something like good-bye or, perhaps, I’m sorry.

Aziraphale returned to consciousness in a place that was about as far as anyone could get from the mess of blood and bodies he’d left behind. Mud and clouds and the stench of war had been replaced by sterile, dazzling white in all directions. The heat of his gambeson and chainmail were gone. An overwhelming sense of peace had overtaken any physical discomfort because there was nothing physical left about him. 

Free of his wounded corporation, he could remember it all. He remembered losing his footing in the muck when he’d tried to avoid being struck in the head. The heavy clubbed end of a mace had hit him before he could bring up his shield to block it. Five millennia on Earth and with the experience of fighting against the damned and yet all it had taken was one misstep and one foolish clump of metal to bring it all to an end. His life had already been forfeit before Crowley had found him.

“Oh, Crowley.”

Aziraphale wrung his hands and found it didn’t quite have the same soothing effect without his corporation. He could feel the ghost of hot tears on his face. He reached up to touch them but there was nothing there. They’d been left back on Earth, along with the skin they’d fallen upon and the muscle, fat, blood, and bone beneath. They’d been left with Crowley.

He needed to get back, which meant he needed a new corporation. He knew that there was someone in charge of such things but he’d been assigned his original one so long ago that he didn’t rightly remember who. He was quite certain everything had looked different then. He was in some sort of small reception room with a sign that said, “Welcome Back” on the wall. He supposed that should have been some sort of comfort to him. He was back in Heaven. It should have felt like home. Only, his home had a growing collection of books and a garden out back. It smelled of fresh baked bread, aging paper, and apple blossoms, not some vaguely ambrosial nothing. Most importantly, his home had the only angel not currently welcome here.

Aziraphale exited into a hallway full of identical doors. He wondered if the rooms behind them all hosted the newly discorporated. He hoped that meant there was a smooth reincorporation process set up. He needed to get back as soon as he could. He couldn’t very well do his job like this. Surely they would understand that.

He hurried down the hall until it let out into a large round room with a desk in the middle. A very bored looking angel was seated behind a thick ledger.

Aziraphale cleared his throat and the angel looked up at him. “Yes. Hello.” He gave a small wave and then tucked his hand behind his back when the gesture wasn’t returned. “I was hoping you might be able to tell me where to go to get a new body.”

The angel opened her mouth to respond but she was interrupted by a pop. A letter materialized on top of the ledger. Aziraphale waited as patiently as he could while she slowly unfurled the scroll and read its contents.

“Principality Aziraphale, you are expected up top immediately.”

Aziraphale shrank under the implications. “Up… up top?” he asked, pointing up. “The very top?”

The angel rolled her eyes at him. “No one goes all the way up. Not these days. You know that.”

“Y-yes. Of course. So, ah…”

“Archangel level, Principality.”

“Right.” It was a less daunting prospect than being summoned to speak directly with Her but standing before the Archangels always made something in his stomach twist, even when he didn’t rightly have a stomach to speak of. “I’ll be right on that. About my body, though…”

“Immediately, Principality.”

“Right.” Aziraphale’s shoulders slumped. He looked around but none of the doors were marked. “Excuse me, but it’s been a while. I just go—” The angel sighed and pointed to her right. Aziraphale offered a smile. “Thank you. I’ll be off then.”

The angel had already returned to filling in her ledger so Aziraphale hurried toward the indicated door. Beyond it was a spiral stone staircase that seemed to travel both up and down into eternity. He knew, logically, that he wouldn’t tire without his body to burden him but he felt exhausted simply looking at it.

By the time he got to the correct level he’d managed to forget who was waiting for him at the other end of it all. Uriel, Michael, and Gabriel were standing next to the tall, arched windows that looked out at the kingdoms of the world. They were busy talking amongst themselves and didn’t seem to have even noticed Aziraphale. As much as he wanted to get on to the business of getting his body back, he really wasn’t in a rush to draw attention to himself. Instead he shuffled up to one of the windows.

He hadn’t looked down on Earth from Heaven since the early days of creation. He recalled marvelling at how he could see every corner of that small blue planet at once, if he wanted, from the deep, dark home of the leviathan to lush nascent Eden. Now he felt as though he couldn’t see anything at all. All of humanity was reduced to a vague impression of their movements. They were nothing more than religion, expansion, progress, and regress. Looking at things this way, Aziraphale could almost see the broad strokes of the Great Plan but he couldn’t see the individual lives that would drive that plan to its inevitable conclusion. Perhaps if he focused in on one amongst the many, he could see. If he thought of scarlet ringlets and golden eyes, of long, lithe limbs and sharp angles…

“There you Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale yelped. Gabriel was standing right next to him, with the others not far behind. “Hello, Gabriel. And, ah, Michael and Uriel.” He had to remind himself that he’d been asked to come here. There was no reason to feel like he’d been caught sneaking where he didn’t belong. “You— you wanted to see me?”

“Well done in the battle,” Michael said. “You were able to advance things as planned.”

“Tough luck getting discorporated though. Taken down by humans. Oof. That’s got to be embarrassing,” Gabriel added.

“There was mud,” Aziraphale quickly explained. “And that armor gets so hot. I had sweat in my eye.”

Gabriel slapped Aziraphale on the back and gave him his most tooth filled smile. “You’ll get ‘em next time, I’m sure, buddy. We’re not judging you for it, are we, Uriel?”

“No,” Uriel replied while somehow making that solitary syllable sound very much like a yes.

Aziraphale glanced between all three faces. He was never sure where he was supposed to look in situations such as these.  “About— about next time. I was hoping I might get back. Only, I’ll need a body. Soon, preferably.”

Gabriel’s lavender eyes widened. “Go back? Why would you want to do that? You’ve put in your work. No one is expecting you to continue mucking about down there. That’s why I called you up here, to go over your next assignment.”

“S-stay here?” Cold dread washed over Aziraphale. “I couldn’t possibly. I have to go back. You know, to see things through properly. I wouldn’t want to see a job half done, after all.”

Uriel’s mouth actually twitched into the start of a bland smile. “An admirable attitude.”

Michael nodded. “Indeed.”

Gabriel scratched the back of his neck. “Well, alright then. If you’re really sure.”

“Quite.” Aziraphale wished he could tell what they were thinking. No matter their expressions, he always felt he was doing or saying the wrong thing. A smile never seemed exactly like a smile on the face of an Archangel. “That is, if it’s alright with all of you.”

“Sure thing,” Gabriel replied but before relief could take hold he added, “but getting you back down there isn’t exactly on the top of the list. You understand. And besides, you have your millennial report to get in still and the proper body requisition forms to fill out.”

Aziraphale forced a brave face to cover the slump of his shoulders. “Yes. Of course. I’ll get right on that.”

The Archangels had already gone back to talking amongst themselves and Aziraphale wondered why it had even been necessary to drag him up here in the first place. His impulse was still to bid them well before he went but he bit his tongue instead. Probably they would think he was bothering them and maybe they would be right, so he left without another word.

Matters did not improve from there. The angels down in the corporation department couldn’t give him a timeframe for when he might expect to get a new body and they didn’t see the rush. Worse, Aziraphale found it difficult to keep track of time in Heaven. Every moment seemed in itself an eternity and yet he also worried it was rushing by. He worried that while he was wading through paperwork, months were slipping by on Earth. He had to hope that, no matter the case, Crowley knew he hadn’t been abandoned.

He had no idea how long it took to slog through his report on the last millennium. What he did know is that he still didn’t have a body to call his own when it was over nor did he have any idea what to do with himself while he waited. He was a Principality. What was he supposed to do without humans about? Well, live ones, at any rate.

He missed the world. He missed the people and places. He longed for his favorite meals and new things to read. More than anything, he desperately, wrenchingly missed Crowley. Even when they’d been parted on Earth, it had never felt like this. There had always been a sense of him. All Aziraphale had needed to do was reach out and he could feel Crowley out there. And now, nothing. The gulf between them was too wide. Aziraphale felt the loss more keenly than the loss of his body. It was as though a piece of his very essence had been carved away.

That was how he found himself in the largely defunct department for the development and creation of celestial bodies. There had to be someone still working there because the office still existed but Aziraphale didn’t see any sign of anyone. There were drafting tables and desks spread throughout but most of them were barren. One desk had the nameplate Reuel on it and a note that said they were off to keep an eye on a potentially troublesome blackhole. Another, in a far corner, bore a familiar name, if one he hadn’t heard since the Beginning.

Aziraphale approached it as though afraid he might startle it if he walked in too direct a line. He picked up the nameplate and ran his thumb over the indented forms of an orphaned name. He put it back where it had been, careful that it was exactly as it had been, and took a seat. “I probably shouldn’t.” The desk drawers didn’t answer. Aziraphale reached out, pulled his hand back, and reached out again. “Well, I’m sure a quick look wouldn’t hurt anything. It’s not as though I’ll be interrupting his work and I certainly don’t have anything better to do with myself at the moment.”

Despite its long abandonment, Crowley’s desk was the picture of organization. Everything had a label, everything had a place. There were files for completed projects as well as rejected proposals and abandoned drafts. Every star, nebula, planet, and meteor he’d helped craft was carefully catalogued with a hand rendered picture and note from Crowley. Aziraphale wished he had a body to contain the way it made him feel to see Crowley’s literal signature on the stars. As it was, it was too expansive. He worried he might lose himself completely if he dwelled on it for too long.

He wanted to see them all the way that Crowley had. He remembered endless nights spent under an even more endless canopy of stars. They’d promised to go together to see them up close, as soon as Crowley was able. He could go on his own now. It would be as simple as walking out the door. From this department, he could go directly to any star system or heavenly body he so desired. But he didn’t want to, not without Crowley. Heaven would surely relent someday and they could fly to the stars together.

Aziraphale felt a pang where his heart would be if he currently had one. Coming here had not been the balm he’d hoped. He took one last wistful look through a stack of delicately rendered nebulae and filed them back where he’d found them. As he did, his hand bumped the back of the drawer.

“What’s this?”

He pulled the drawer out as far as it would go and palmed at the back panel, which had given a hollow knock when he’d bumped it. The panel gave way. A good quarter of the drawer had been hidden and inside that secret compartment, was a box. It appeared to be made of the same malleable substance that made much of Heaven’s current architecture. In the right angelic hands, it could be formed to whatever was needed, be it stone or glass or, in this case, a box without a seam.

Aziraphale could open it. He felt sure of that much. He felt less sure of whether he should open it. When he held it close he got the same sunshine warm feeling of being near Crowley. He would keep it with him and bask in that feeling until he could hand it over to Crowley when they were reunited. Which they would be. He had to focus on that and be patient.

He patiently went to interdepartmental meetings and patiently did the paperwork that inevitably followed. He patiently explained that, no, he wasn’t interested in any supposed improvements to his corporation and then filled out even more forms. He patiently sat through a lecture on ingesting gross matter. He patiently sat through another lecture when he tried to find a work in the archives that he discovered was stored in Hell. He patiently continued on until finally- finally- the day came when he was issued his corporation and sent back to Earth.

Then Aziraphale decided he had been patient long enough. The moment he set foot on mortal soil once more, he unfurled his wings and set off home. He was beyond the point of caring if it would earn him a reprimand, should a human see him. He tried not to think about how the landscape below had changed in his absence. No matter how much time had passed, he knew Crowley would be out there waiting.

At last, there it was, their little cottage by the coast, still protected by enough wards to keep unnoticed by warring humans and so the same as ever. Within were his books and his bed. There was the smell of apple blossoms that carried on the wind despite the season. And there, wrist deep in dirt was Crowley working the garden. His head was bowed but he looked up when Aziraphale’s wings obscured the sun.

“Aziraphale.” Crowley’s eyes widened to the shape and nearly the size of two disbelieving moons. “Are you here? Are you really here?”

“I—”

Try as he might, Aziraphale couldn’t get the words out. He worried there was something wrong with his new corporation. It looked the same from the outside and had felt the same from the inside but suddenly his heart was beating far too fast and he couldn’t seem to get enough to air in his lungs. He couldn’t keep his wings sorted. He fell out of the air and right into Crowley’s arms.

“Woah, hey, I’ve got you.” Crowley let out a choked sob and pulled him in for a fierce embrace. “You really are here. Fuck, I thought— you know how many times I dreamed this? I couldn’t get any sleep because it hurt too much to see you and have you not be— to know that you really were— But you’re here. Really here.”

He was. He was there with Crowley. He was back home. Warmth blossomed in Aziraphale’s chest and quickly spread throughout his body, settling his upstart organs as it did. Everything felt right again wrapped in Crowley’s arms. He tucked his wings away so he could be encircled by them completely. 

Physical touch after so long without it was overwhelming. He felt altogether too warm and wanted, freshly aware of breath on the skin of his neck, of Crowley’s scent in his nostrils, and muscles that wanted both to squeeze tight and to let go completely. It seemed like he could very well shake apart but everywhere he trembled, there were Crowley’s hands rubbing delicate, soothing circles. Heaven was… well, Heaven, of course. It couldn’t compare. He wouldn’t dare try. But this was another sort of paradise all its own.

A startlingly pitched whine escaped his throat when Crowley finally took a step back. “Are you alright?” Crowley kept a grip on Aziraphale’s shoulders, as if afraid he would crumple if left to stand on his own. “You haven’t stopped shaking this whole time and you still haven’t said anything.”

He looked so worried and Aziraphale hadn’t a clue how to respond. This was all too much and yet not nearly enough, not by a mile. He looked deep into those beloved eyes. Those were perhaps what he’d missed most of all. Not because they were beautiful, though they certainly were at that, but because of the way they looked back at him. They were so full of bald, unflinching adoration. Even when they bickered, those eyes were never cold. They never held scorn or ridicule. Not for him. He could trust in Crowley because of what he saw in those eyes.

“Your hair is so short.”

Crowly blinked owlishly at him and then bent double with laughter. He had to wipe away tears before he could speak. “Over a decade away and that’s the first thing you say to me?”

“Oh dear, has it been so long? It’s difficult to keep track up there.”

“Twelve years, six months, and three days. Or something like that. You know, who’s been counting?”

“Oh.” That number stretched out before Aziraphale like an uncrossable void. It was nothing in the grand scheme of things but to miss so much time over paperwork and trudging bureaucracy? “I’m so sorry.”

His knees gave way and he was forced to use Crowley as support. Crowley walked them both toward the low stone wall that encircled the garden. He propped Aziraphale up against it and then perched on top. Sitting there brought his face down the few inches needed for them to look directly eye to eye. He hooked one long finger under Aziraphale’s chin.

“Nothing to apologize for. I know you’d have been back sooner if you could. Why do you think I slithered right around all that red tape when I wanted to come down here?”

He forced a light tone but Aziraphale could still hear the hurt underneath. He felt it himself. There would be no getting back those years. He could only hope that it had been worth it. He’d never received a full explanation for why he’d needed to be in battle in the first place. It was all in the service of the Great Plan. He had to trust that or he would despair.

He took the hand at his chin and pressed his cheek into the palm. His skin still tingled at the newness of touch. “Well, at any rate, I’m profoundly pleased to be back.”

Crowley let out a small puff of laughter. “And I’m profoundly pleased to have you.” He tugged at the short, messily shorn ends of his hair. “You hate the hair though, don’t you? I can grow it back now, if you want.”

Aziraphale shook his head. He reached up and buried his fingers in loose scarlet waves. It only took a moment to run his hands from scalp to tip. “I certainly don’t hate it and I certainly don’t want you to feel you need to change it for me. I’m sorry I said anything about it. I was just surprised. I’ve never seen it so short.”

Crowley’s eyes fell closed. “Well, good you like it because I may never grow it back out if you keep playing with it like that.”

The way Crowley’s whole body was leaning into the touch, Aziraphale wasn’t especially inclined to stop. “What have you been up to this whole time?”

“You know. Things. Might have stirred up a bit of trouble but thought you might not be happy about that so then I did other things. A fair bit of embroidery. Tried to get better at baking. My bread’s not as good as yours but it’s edible at least.”

“You’ve started eating more, then?”

“Eh, more yeah, but doesn’t mean much. Figured I’d do it in your place a bit.  Not sure if I’ll keep it up now you’re back.” Crowley turned his head enough that he was able to catch one of Aziraphale’s wrists with a kiss. “What about you? Do anything interesting up there?”

Aziraphale swallowed a groan before it could escape. He was used to much more but whether it was the time apart or the new corporation, that one light press of lips to skin jumped like a lightning bolt through his arm and right up to his heart. “Nothing— nothing much,” he replied a bit breathlessly. “Oh! I do have something for you. Something of yours.”

“Something… of mine?”

“Yes. I hope you don’t mind that I took it but it’s not like you can. And, well, let me just fetch it.” He dug into the pocket sewn into the inner lining of his cloak and tried to ignore the way his cheeks burned under Crowley’s intense gaze. “Ah, there it is.”

He held out the white box and Crowley took it with trembling hands. “Do you have any idea what this is?”

“I thought it best to let you show me instead of speculating. That is, if you want to show me. It was hidden and I didn’t try to find it but I understand if it’s private.”

“No it’s… it’s fine. You might wanna stand back, though.”

Aziraphale took a step back. “Good?”

“Erm, might want to be further back.”

That seemed ominous. Aziraphale was only just realizing if Crowley had hidden it, it could be some sort of contraband. He hoped it wasn’t anything that would cause either of them trouble. He supposed it was too late, in any case. A vivid blue light bisected the box as the glyph that closed it was undone. The box was eaten by the light and when Aziraphale’s eyes adjusted to the brightness of it, he saw there was a mound of fine, shining powder collected in Crowley’s cupped hands.

“Is that—?”

Crowley’s face was split by an impish, delighted grin. “Yep. Now this is the part you’re going to want to stand back for.”

Those golden eyes which already so reminded Aziraphale of the sun started to truly glow. The powder formed a swirling miasma in the air between Crowley’s outstretched palms. Aziraphale needed to squint out from behind a shielding arm and even then his eyes watered at the brilliance of the light. His heart forgot to beat as, through sheer force of will, Crowley formed a twin pair of stars. They were but an infinitesimal fraction of the true thing, not considerably larger than the pinpricks visible in the night sky, but they were unmistakable for what they were. Despite appearances, there was the distinct impression that they were far larger, that Crowley, too, was larger than his mortal frame should rightly allow. His wings formed a field of stars behind him as they pressed urgently against the fabric of this plane, fighting to come through.

Aziraphale gasped. The sound was enough to shake Crowley from the sort of trance he’d fallen into. “Don’t get too attached to them,” he said, a foreign, rumbling undercurrent to his voice. “I’ve got a plan for these.”

The stars spiralled around each other, closer and closer, until at last they clashed and burst into a miniature supernova. Crowley’s fingers danced around it like he was playing an instrument Aziraphale couldn’t see. Something brilliant was pulled free just before Crowley clapped his hands together.

He smiled sheepishly up at Aziraphale. “You can come back over.”

“Was that stardust? I didn’t think there was any left since, well—” Aziraphale made an expansive gesture.

“‘Let there be light’?” Crowley offered. “Probably isn’t any left, now. It’s not needed to make the new ones. They sorta do that on their own. But I kept a bit. Little souvenir from Rigil Kentaurus and Toliman, which was one of my favorite projects. Probably why Proxima Centauri ended up a little undersized. Oh well. No one else ever noticed.”

There was a buzzing in Aziraphale’s brain in the approximate location where cogent thought usually occurred. “All this time and you used it up now?”

Crowley shrugged with his hands still held tightly together. “Sort of spur of the moment. Wanted to make you something.”

Aziraphale leaned forward and kissed the bent tip of Crowley’s nose. “It was absolutely stunning.”

“Heh, well, I lucked out and had one of the flashier jobs. But that’s not what that was about.” Crowley unfurled his fingers and produced a small golden snake. No, a ring shaped like a snake coiled in on itself. “While you were gone I got to thinking. About you. About being apart. About how we could maybe be together even when— not that I expect you to get killed again or something. Could be me. Or neither of us. Not really what it’s about. And you don’t have to, if you don’t want. Could just be a ring. You don’t even have to wear it. But if you want to...”

Crowley held out the ring. It nearly fell from his fingers with as much as they were shaking. Aziraphale looked at it. Looked at Crowley. He filtered the words through his brain but it felt very much like his brain had gone supernova itself.

“Are you— is this—” Aziraphale tried to take a few steadying breaths but they were immediately transformed into a rather embarrassing bout of tittering. He bit his lip to make it stop. “Crowley, are you asking me to marry you?”

“It’s nothing. A human thing. Do angels even get married? Can they? Whatever. It’s stupid. If you could forget I—”

Aziraphale shut Crowley up with a crushing kiss. If that wasn’t a clear enough answer, he took the ring and held up his hand so that Crowley could see it when he slipped it onto his finger. “I would love to. There isn’t a single thing that I would enjoy more. I only wish…” He took his old ring from his pinky finger and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. “It’s not as special but perhaps—”

Crowley snatched the ring and slipped it onto his finger. “S’yours. Can’t think of anything more special.”

“Well then, that’s that.”

“That. Is. That.”

Aziraphale felt like he could fly without even bringing his wings out. What a day. What a glorious, impossible, ineffable day. He realized his face hurt because he was smiling so hard and he was more than happy to let it hurt with the way that smile was reflected back at him on Crowley’s face.

“Should we… see a priest? Or… or something?”

“Nah. Even if they say they’re talking for Her, not like any of them really has authority over us.”

“A fair point. I feel we should do something, all the same.”

He thought about who would possibly have the authority to do such a thing. It was unprecedented, so far as Aziraphale knew. An image drifted through his mind of Gabriel officiating and he felt a tad queasy even imagining it.

“Why not just us?”

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. “The two of us? Marrying ourselves?”

“Sure. Why not? Never been done before so there’s not really anyone to say we can’t. Or if there is, they haven’t thought to say anything about it so that’s on them. So what do you say? Me. You. Something brand new. Our own sort of… Arrangement.”

Aziraphale hummed thoughtfully. “Yes.” When he said it, he felt sure. It seemed a surer choice than any he’d made thus far in his long existence. “Yes,” he repeated.

“Well then… alright. I, uh… If you’ll take me?”

“I said I would and I do. And you?”

“Yes. Yeah. Course I do.”

They clasped hands as the fabric of the world rippled at the shared words of binding divine command.

“Then, shall we seal it with a kiss?”

The words were barely out of Aziraphale’s mouth when Crowley obliged him. It was a brand new body and so, in a way, a whole new first kiss. Unlike that one in Rome, the stars weren’t above but wrapped around their fingers. For that moment while their lips locked together, all of creation obligingly rewrote itself. Heart fell into sync with heart and lungs drew twin breaths. As gold forged from the clash of stars, they were two bound as one and one they would remain, no matter what the future held.

#good omens #go au: tmgt #good omens au #my writing #fic #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #angel!crowley

[akiwisfics]

In Bloom Chapter 1

Notes: Cross-posted from AO3. If people get annoyed by this, please savior “kiwi crossposts” to save your eyes. Hey, if you’re a fan of KirarixSayaka, check our discord here .

Description:  Mary accepts an invitation to watch from the president, and learns far more than she ever wanted.

Pairings: KirarixSayaka, MaryxRirika

---

“Do you really read these things?”

Kirari’s voice was clipped, as if admonishing a child. “Any position comes with its form of bureaucracy, Midari.”

She huffed and scowled, refusing to meet the stone eyes on the other side of the sitting area. “You’re starting to sound like Sayaka.” She watched the fish swim in their dizzying circles, kept as the romantic symbol they were, and ignored the stilted sorting of papers behind her. The nerve-tingling thrill of plucking her own eye in a fit of madness for this woman seemed such a far away thought now, as if an experience she lived vicariously through someone else. She wanted more.

If Kirari knew how much her skin itched, she didn’t comment on it. She snapped her fingers instead, drawing Midari back to the horrendous pile of paperwork on the table between them. It was a tragedy really. She kept her beautification committee paperwork fine enough, but the requisitions always seemed to get trapped somewhere. Individual papers had been folded and crumpled, then hastily unfolded when realized their importance, smudges of both ink and… darker activities blocked off her scrawled handwriting, making the requests look more like chicken scratch than anything else. If Midari squinted enough, one of the blots on the first page looked red and metallic. Ah. A good memory.

“I haven’t the foggiest idea how Sayaka reads this, nor do I intend to try,” Kirari quipped, a tone that reminded her of hardened steel. A tone that bore little arguing over. “This needs to be rewritten. Today.”

“What?! It’s like fifty pag--”

“Maybe instead of asking for another gun from the administration, request a filing cabinet.”

“Get Sayaka to read it then!” she snapped and looked around for the girl. Again, she confirmed the truth: they were alone in the student council room. A rarity even with the election in full swing. Now that it was just them, the office space seemed so much more expansive and oppressive at once. There was plenty of breathing room for anyone that needed it, but Midari could see why so many visitors shrunk at the sheer display of riches and power held within.

But something didn’t seem right about today either. The smell of burnt tea that wafted in the room, Kirari-- the president of all people!-- fussing over minor details in paperwork, the conspicuous absence of the ever faithful brainiac. Midari was used to niggling and bargaining with Sayaka over the details of how much money went where, or how to exactly word her documents to get what she wanted. It was a simple system: somehow the secretary always managed to work out what she wanted, how she wanted it, and usually in a week, she would go into her meeting room and it’d be there.

She was itching from more than just boredom. Her foot tapped impatiently on the floor as she looked back at the president, and for the briefest flickers, saw that same impatience there. The narrowing of her eyes, blue lips curling.

She can’t help wanting to scratch at those peeling layers. “... Where is she today?”

Kirari’s eyes naturally traced the golden handles on the heavy doors of the council room, spending longer than needed-- as if daring them to swing open by her very command. At times Midari wondered, and no doubt the other members have thought the same. Sayaka came at the nearest breath of an order, answered before the first word was spoken, and kept an even step at her side. Yet there they were, alone. Like that day. And something was so very different about it.

“... Late,” Kirari responded after a moment too long.

Anyone could tell that. Midari wanted more, and it didn’t take long to get it. Almost as soon as Kirari gave up on the doors, back to the chicken scratch paper Midari presented as requisition papers, did those heavy doors creak open, whining heavily by the weight being pushed on them.

Their heads snapped up at once as Sayaka was all but dragged through the entrance by the door’s momentum, her entire weight placed on clammy hands latched tightly on one of the handles. No sooner did she cross the entrance way that her knees seem to give way. She slipped from the door and fell face first onto the carpeted floor, pained gasps filling the shocked silence.

Midari was transfixed by the heaving, prone form in front of them. She remained rooted even as Kirari sprung from her seat, rushing to Sayaka’s side. She was quickly flipped over, showing the trembling near pale blue lips, and it quickly dawned on Midari that there was a woman dying there. Gasps of air flow being cut off.

Her lips split to a large, near cheshire smile.

Yes.

Today was certainly going to be different.

--

Mary only realized the cellphone was Ririka’s when she fell a step behind her, uttering a meek and discreet, “Hello?” into the receiver. Mary stopped and met Ririka’s eyes questioningly, ignoring the rumbles of rumors from the classmates around them. That she had grown accustomed too quickly with Ririka being at her side. It was understandable at least-- it wasn’t like they were being secretive about the whole partnership. Not that Ririka gave it much option.

The ring tone had been so normal, just the standard for the model Ririka had in her trembling hands, that Mary really didn’t even recognize it.

“Oi! Kirari needs you here now!” Midari’s screeching voice on the other end wasn’t what Mary expected and she involuntarily winced in sympathy as Ririka gently held the phone further away from her ear.

Student council matters then? They had certainly been quiet recently, but someone was still enforcing the system in some manner. Mary couldn’t be that surprised by it. It would be better to just let her handle it then. She tried to call attention to herself with a wave. “I’ll let you handle this, right? Though I doubt the president doesn’t have her own sister’s number. Shouldn’t she be call--”

Ririka held a finger up to her, mouthing a simple ‘stay’ before retorting to Midari, “I can’t just leave right now. What’s--”

“You don’t get it. Kirari is pissed,” and the excitement practically bubbled over in her words, as if Midari could barely contain herself. “She’s demanding you and Saotome-san here right now.”

“Me?” Mary retorted, knowing full well at this point that her voice was probably getting picked up from somewhere, “I have nothing to do with this. She can’t just make orders like a tantruming child!” She caught the stares immediately in the hallway though and tried to lower her voice. “I’m not student council. Leave me out of it.”

Midari laughed, only sounding worse through the digital distortion on the receiver. “Oh it has everything to do with you too~. Sayaka’s been poisoned.”

The secretary? The memory wasn’t so far gone from her mind to ignore the implication that was being made there. She did have some unfinished business with Inbami and Yobami. While Yobami-san had been removed from the election in their match, Inbami-san had made it clear that wasn’t the end of it. Targeting the student council though? It seemed too brazen for her, even with her lack of skills in a direct gamble. Not to mention, it wasn’t like Mary was personally involved in Igarashi-san’s life. Obviously, she wouldn’t want the girl to die, but it wasn’t like she was personally involved in those stakes.

Perhaps to the president, Mary had just failed to clean up her mess. She could feel Ririka’s eyes boring into her as she thought it over. If it did turn into an election battle, it would be a good time to evaluate Kirari’s skills for herself. And being her partner in that regard could also lend itself to more information than as her opponent. Especially when apparently, there were personal stakes involved.

She would have time to ask Ririka before they made it to the office. Mary sighed. “Tell the president we’re on our way.”

Ririka looked visibly relieved as she hung up the phone, not even bothering to hear Midari’s affirmation as she stepped back to her side. Mary wouldn’t admit the small bit of satisfaction in seeing the light smile on the sullen girl’s face. “Thank you. I can’t even begin to explain the dynamics there, but… Kirari would not ask for us if she didn’t need it.”

“Just don’t let me go up there blind,” she huffed, even as the memory of the girl’s smile remained firmly in her thoughts.

--

She didn’t really know Igarashi-san. Then again, Mary wasn’t really sure who did. Even just being a secretary, she carried that trademark mystery air to her-- always slightly unapproachable and always slightly intimidating. It wasn’t a demeanor Mary personally cared about, but she has had no reason to know the president’s personal dog either. Any time Kirari was spotted in the halls, her secretary trailed just a half step behind her. She supposed if anyone knew, it had to be the president, but what few times they’ve talked, the subject of the secretary never came up.

Mary did know a few things. They were in the same grade with Igarashi-san always at the top of the exam list. She was handy with a taser (and from the twisted smile that contorted her face, enjoyed it a little too much), and had known to only gamble once.

The looming tower in the courtyard had been an eye sore for a while now, but Mary couldn’t ignore the brief murmur of rumors surrounding the structure in the weeks leading up to the election. She knew about the gamble-- vaguely anyway. Just that something explosive was going to happen the moment Yumeko and Kirari met. It wasn’t quite what she expected though.

She had no idea why Igarashi-san was involved, or why anyone needed to jump out of the damn thing.

“Oh yes, it looked quite thrilling!” Yumeko gushed one morning as they waited for class to start.

“And they had a safety net? They’re lucky no one broke their neck.”

“But it’s part of the fun, isn’t it? Though Igarashi-san hadn’t expected to survive. She wouldn’t have if she made the wrong choice.”

“She doesn’t seem the type,” Mary mumbled. She only meant it as an off-hand comment, still trying to will the early morning drowsiness away, but her red eyes glinted with a small, ethereal smile.

“Igarashi-san fit right in. I’m a bit envious~” Yumeko sighed wistfully, clasping her hands against her blooming cheeks. “That rush of victory into such crushing despair. Yet she took that fall with such grace! I would’ve followed if it didn’t seem like interrupting a private moment.”

“Private?”

But Yumeko didn’t answer, only laughing-- as if hiding a piece of juicy gossip. Mary hadn’t thought much on it, especially when the election began so soon after and Ririka extended her ‘offer.’ Now that they were approaching the long hallway to the council room however, maybe she should’ve asked a few more probing questions about the night. All she knew was the president leapt after this girl, and maybe, that meant more than just an impulse.

The hallway was practically deserted for a large academy like Hyakkaou. A blanket of tense silence overwhelmed her almost immediately, only broken by the flurry of steps from medical staff as they entered and left the council room. Their lips were sealed, only sparing a few words to the president that stayed perched at the opposite wall. They worked with a slick professionalism that Mary could at least admire, using discretion. They didn’t even look at her and Ririka as they worked. She could point out IV lines, some… other equipment she couldn’t identify aside from old medical dramas that came on when she studied at night.

Midari and Runa shielded Kirari from close study, stationed on either side of her and conversing quietly. Midari was facing away from them, but Mary could make a few guesses with a girl like her-- a prospect of a life or death gamble. If she looked hard enough, she could maybe spot quivering thighs, flushed skin. She didn’t. The less she bothered with Midari, the better.

Runa faced them, eyes narrowed to beady little slits and humming a small, whimsical tune. The unwrapped lollipop that she danced between her tiny fingers had been largely forgotten by the new turn of events. She looked far too pleased with it, even with her initial annoyance by the original poisonings. Mary couldn’t help her paranoia begin to rise as the darkened eyes met hers. “Oh! They made it!”

It was too late to ask for more.

Kirari stepped away from the pair of members flanking her to observe them herself, and something didn’t seem quite right. Like a jigsaw puzzle being mashed together, misshapen pieces torn to fit the holes for a different, unclear picture. Her eyes were cold and indifferent, yet the creased brow and dishevelled appearance showed exertion and care in the last few minutes between the call. Her jacket was left behind in the student council room, lace blouse sleeves rolled up to her elbows and her shoulders sagged slightly from stress. Yet her smile curved confidently around smeared blue lipstick and her voice reverberated in the empty hallway as if this was any other day.

“Ririka, I’ll need you for the gamble,” she spoke, walking assured strides to them, as if she didn’t look out of place. “Stay behind with me and we’ll go over everything?”

“And Igarashi-san?” Mary blurted.

She stopped, almost offended that Mary even spoke. She regarded her just a single second before nodding to Runa. “You will have to apologize for the lack of pleasantries, Saotome-san, but we are on a schedule,” she said.

Runa came closer, sticking the lollipop in her mouth so she could have both hands to fish through her giant pockets. Mary didn’t want to guess what were in those things. She hoped just candy, but…

A ziploc bag was thrust into her hands, holding a plain black envelope with some sort of wax seal broken. She would guess it was a Momobami one, which would’ve clued Sayaka enough. Tilting the bag to and fro, she noticed a white powder collecting along the bottom. “Do you know what it is yet?”

“No. Which makes time of the essence, Saotome-san. Please go meet them in the lower gambling floor. I must speak with my sister.” The president rolled her sleeves down. Mary noticed as the moments passed in the hallway, she only seemed to be growing calmer instead. “Runa will be accompanying you.”

“Can you at least tell me what happened?”

Kirari scowled instead, only waving Ririka over and promptly ignoring her. “Midari, please stay with Sayaka.”

Midari tsked but didn’t argue. It was like clockwork. Ririka joined her sister at her side as Midari went through the student council doors. It wasn’t long after that Runa was tugging at the sleeve of her blazer, ushering her along. It just left her more confused as to why she was there at all.

“Try not to take it personally, Mary-chan~” Runa giggled as they began their journey to the lower levels. “Sayaka-chan did her due diligence, but she only put herself in a worse position.”

“With the baggie?”

“It was done after exposure. Even contacted staffing to quarantine the room first before alerting anyone about how hurt she was.”

Mary frowned. She couldn’t get that, but maybe it was something about this school. She expected Yumeko to ignore her own symptoms before it stopped her from doing what she loved, but Igarashi-san was reasonable. Practical. All of that seemed to stop mattering the moment the president was involved. “How bad is she?”

Runa shrugged. “She wasn’t breathing last I saw. President banned everyone from the room not long after that.”

Smeared lipstick, sleeves rolled up. Mary’s heart sank. Even as a rival, she at least understood that Igarashi-san was important. To be targeted like that? It was bad enough just to have a friend be at risk. “... So are the two…?”

Runa shrieked in laughter. “Your guess is as good as mine, Mary-chan~”

Figures. Even if Runa did know, there wasn’t any reason to be honest with Mary about it. At best, she was protecting the president’s own integrity in what was likely the most vulnerable Mary would ever get to see, and at worst, she was just as clueless. None of this made any sense. Why show Mary that at all? Why involve her if it was something so serious?

And that envelope had a letter in it? Where was that? She stopped, looked to Runa, and was greeted with a toothy smile.

“I have it.”

“And?”

“Confidential~”

“Well now I know something’s on it!” Mary grumbled, crossing her arms. “What if they need that?!”

“Kirari-chan knows~. She found it.”

“Why am I here, Runa?!”

Runa giggled once more, lazily strolling ahead of her-- only worsening her nerves. “Question also isn’t for me.”

--

Mary realized with startling apprehension that she had never seen the gambling floor completely cleared out like this. Ever. Even during classes, there was a milling student or two in there either competing in a gamble or just looking for an easy place to ditch class. Not a soul was in there. The tables were left where they were, as if people were ordered to clear away right in the middle of games. Only things taken were personal belongings, and naturally, the voting chips-- what little that were left between Kirari and Terano.

Yobami and Inbami were sitting at the center poker table, eerily silent in the backdrop of the mostly deserted room. Even she felt Runa tense up under the oppressive atmosphere within. “Keep your wits about you,” she whispered, nearly cracking her teeth against the lollipop still stuck in her mouth.

She steeled herself and strode confidently in the room, never releasing her gaze from the pair of sisters that eagerly awaited their arrival. She was the surprise here, and perhaps they could play into it. No way Runa would allow her to outwardly influence the game, but there was no love lost between her and them either. They could play it into their advantage.

Inbami looked less than pleased to see her already. There was a lot of satisfaction in seeing the snarl. “Saotome, I doubt Igarashi-san would’ve brushed off the responsibility to you. Where is she?”

Mary stopped, taking a second to register exactly what she was asking. “No. But she’s still not coming since you know… she’s a bit poisoned?”

“What.”

What? How was she supposed to respond to that. They were a ‘medicine’ family where poisoning was practically their MO. If they didn’t mean to poison Sayaka then who the hell--

Runa was cackling. Great. “Ohhh, it makes sense now~,” she teased, “You didn’t know? Sayaka-chan started checking Kirari-chan’s mail right after what happened last time. A secretary has to consider all possibilities.”

“Then who’s coming--”

“Who do you think?!” Mary snapped. The way Inbami’s face sank was priceless, and Yobami wasn’t faring much better. She had to admit the plan would’ve been practical had it worked-- taking advantage of the weaker partner in a time of great crisis. It would’ve been Igarashi-san that found her first and it would’ve been Igarashi-san that took the risks under duress. At best, they would’ve killed the president and rendered the entire reason for the election useless, and at worst, taken advantage of a vulnerable girl who would happily give power and position to see the president well again. She would’ve been almost completely defenseless with the sisters having all the power. It wasn’t so different from what they tried to pull on Ryota, but still with rather large gaping holes.

In trying to hook the flounder, they pulled a shark on their line. And the president wasn’t going to let go without tipping the whole ship over. Whatever the reasons, whatever the situation, Mary was going to learn something today.

“Miyo,” Yobami called for quietly, and the two sisters exchanged glances. It was as if they knew by just that one singular look to one another.

Inbami offered a placid smiled to them. “Then Kirari is coming. With Ririka?”

“Yeah.”

Runa hummed. “It makes no difference to me, but I’m sure Kirari-chan would be happy just getting an antidote or two from you and letting it go.”

Inbami laughed and motioned for Yobami to sit across from her, the smile twisting her features into something ugly but not unfamiliar to Mary. “Someone needs to tell the child no. It doesn’t matter to me if she loses her favorite toy.”

“Suit yourself,” Runa replied before taking place at the left side of the table. She tugged a deck of cards out of her oversized pockets, humming appreciatively as she broke the sticker seal with the singular swipe of her finger nail.

Mary let silence envelope the lonely room once more, only broken by the steady shuffling of cards. There wasn’t any obvious sign of nervousness from either sister now, though Yobami’s back was to her now. The sitting arrangement wasn’t unlike the Nim Zero. So something similar. She tried to take comfort in being an impartial observer, having nothing to lose and little to gain from it.

She didn’t have much time to enjoy the silence. The doors swung open with a flourish, and all eyes turned to the expected arrivals. Kirari made her entrance first, head held high and looking nothing like she had in the hallway. She had retrieved her blazer without a single stitch or tear in sight. Her eyes shone with the same cold confidence, blue eyes mirrored in the perfectly styled blue eyeshadow and lips. She regarded the room with an indistinct smile. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Ririka was right behind, in what Mary could affectionately call her game face on. She held herself not unlike Kirari, but her demeanor seemed more like righteous fury to her. A bright light shining in the sea of darkness of the room. What conversation they had instilled confidence and likely a better sense of what was happening than Mary did. They were ready for what was to come, and Mary felt the excitement bubbling inside her.

Kirari breezed past her without any sort of acknowledgement as before, approaching the table with a cruel calculation. “Spades, was it? Not very imaginative, but it’ll help to end this quickly,” she regarded them like nothing, as if only a momentary distraction, “Traditional?”

“200 chips for one,” Yobami answered without turning to look at the president directly.

Steep price just for the first round. Ririka came to her side, looking pensive. They didn’t have that many chips between the two of them, but it may play into Mary’s favor to get the president indebted to her. “... I’ll help meet the bet if we need to,” she whispered to the girl at her side.

“I’m not interested in the antidote,” Kirari replied, and all at once the table erupted into chaos.

“What?! Why are you even here then?” Inbami snapped. “You’re just going to let the girl die? You know the hospital will be too late to save her!”

Runa simply began laughing at everyone’s expense, clearly enjoying the turn of events.

Ririka hesitated before cautiously approaching her twin, voice gentle and soothing as if calming a crazed beast. “Are you sure about this? If anything were to go wrong, and Igarashi-san…”

Kirari waved her sibling off before circling the card table, lightly brushing the tops of Yobami’s shoulders as she slipped by, causing the small girl to stiffen uncomfortably from the contact. She didn’t linger, instead coming to her sister’s side and tightly clutching Inbami’s cheeks, a cruel chuckle rumbling from frosted lips as she forced the girl to meet eyes with her.

“You sought to use my own secretary to take everything from me,” she spoke into the girl’s very soul, digging and taking apart what she found within. “You’ve caught my attention, so why stop now? I’m here. Bet everything against me~. You can end the election with both my chips and Ririka’s. Not even Terano could stop you. I’ll even give you the seat.”

This. Mary knew this. The stone eyes glowing blue under the low light, the madness twisting her stoic features to something monstrous. It was the very same thing that fascinated her and scared her about Yumeko.

“If not for the antidote, then what would you want?” Yobami interrupted the dissection, earning a smirk from the president.

“Why, a bet must be met. You’ll lose your names. Your family will lose their names. We’ll just take the more… interesting ones under Momobami~.”

Inbami ripped herself away from the examination, clearly horrified by the suggestion. “Why would we agree to something so-- Let me remind you that Igarashi-san will die without this! We’re the ones with leverag--”

“I don’t care.” The words shut Inbami up immediately and said with so much malice that it raised the hairs on the back of Mary’s neck. It was like night and day. This was the same girl that had tried to keep Igarashi-san breathing? It was too stupid to be a coincidence. “Sayaka was well aware of the risks when she kept her position after the council dissolved. If that’s all you have to offer, I can easily waste my time elsewhere.”

She turned on her heel, fully intent to leave them all there stranded and shell shocked by the demand. One step and Ririka looked back to Mary, utterly dumbfounded. Mary started to believe that maybe this was sincere. Two steps, and Runa was gathering the cards once more, shuffling them even faster as if playing with them. Three steps, and Mary found her voice bubbling in her throat, but before she could speak a word, Inbami broke.

“Fine! Three rounds of Spades. Everything on the line.”

Kirari stopped. She turned back to the group, gracefully offering her hand. “Let’s get started then, shall we?”

After that, it was all movement. Kirari and Ririka took their seats opposite one another, Kirari facing Mary. Runa dealt the cards without prompting, sweeping them across the expanse of the table as her hum entered a crescendo-- practically buzzing with anticipation for the events about to unfold. Slim, pale fingers tapped the cards dealt, stopping them perfectly in front of their respective owners. Mary stepped to Ririka’s side, taking her place to her partner’s right in hopes of providing encouragement and support to the shy girl.

Ririka lifted her hand before, fanning them out for Mary to sneak a peek to the contents within. High suits with … three spades? The spades were low numbers though, and could easily be trumped in a poorly played trick. A few mistakes could be afforded, but now that Kirari forced them to put everything into the pot… Mary couldn’t help being nervous.

Spades was a strange game. Built on the honor system, it obligated its players to use their cards honestly but wisely. Since each round called for all 13 cards to be used before it finished, lies were easily caught by attentive players. No doubt the sisters would be focusing on Kirari as the bigger target. She was the more experienced player, the more dangerous. That could open opportunities for subterfuge if they needed it.

“I’m sure I don’t need to remind you, Mary-chan,” Runa piped up as she dealt the last few cards, “But giving Ririka-chan advice at any time is prohibited~.”

Mary huffed, “I know that.” She knew now that Ririka was competent enough to stand on her own anyway. She bested Oobami without much trouble, and with a grace and cunning that she hadn’t seen anywhere else. Yobami and Inbami weren’t even close to that level of control and finesse. The odds were stacked against them, but Kirari offered a prize far too tempting to refuse.

At the very least, they were wise enough to choose a straightforward game with little confusion, and little opportunity to cheat. Mary could guess how this was supposed to play. A three-persion version of the game was possible, in which every round the third person would switch to the other team. The person left without a partner would have a “dummy” partner with access to their cards. Since Yobami and Inbami had a way to communicate non-verbally, it would be easy to work out the remaining cards in the deck, and thus, easily overpower a lone Igarashi-san into a clean win. No doubt Igarashi-san would’ve known it, but with the president in a precarious position, she would be left with no choice but to lose everything. The only possible flaw for that would be for Runa to excise the partner switching rule, but even still… Igarashi-san would’ve been alone.

Even now, they could probably deduce what the combined cards were for Ririka and Kirari-- something that could lend itself to certain advantages in accurately guessing the amount of tricks, but even then, there were certain caveats to that. They couldn’t predict exactly which card belonged to which twin, and the fact that they were tricked by a simple shuffle trick in Nim Type Zero made it far less likely that they would realize that advantage.

A trick was one round of each playing a singular card of their 13 card hand. The first player chose the suit with their first card, and each subsequent player was obligated to play another suit. If the player didn’t have a particular suit, they were welcomed to play any card in their hand. At the end of the trick, the player that placed the highest value card of that suit won, so long as no spades were played. A spade could be played to trump the trick, and if done so, then the player with the highest value spade by the end would win the trick. The particular round would end once every card in the player’s hand had been played. First to 200 points won a single game.

With three games in total, this could be a long wait. No doubt that was a conscious decision on Inbami and Yobami’s part. The longer Igarashi-san went without the antidote, the likelier this would be a giant waste of time for everyone. Not that it wasn’t already now that Kirari removed the antidote completely from the equation.

Not that it didn’t look like Kirari was looking to finish this quickly anyway. Mary picked up on the fact that she was the only one at the table that hadn’t picked up her hand, a finger idly tapping the cards that laid face down in front of her. She watched Runa expectantly, as if the cards weren’t in front of her at all.

Once everyone seemed satisfied with looking at their hand, Runa gave a toothy grin and waved a hand over the table with dramatic enthusiasm. “We’ll start the bidding round!” she announced sharply, echoing in the mostly empty chambers. “How many tricks will you be winning, Inbami-san?”

“Nil.”

“Oho~. Starting strong, already?”

“If we’re betting everything, we might as well.”

Kirari giggled beside her, unsurprising with her own choice. Her cards still remained face down. Their actions weren’t too dissimilar though. The nil bid and the blind nil were two sides of the same coin-- both rewarding steep risks with high rewards. It was exactly how it sounded-- a nil bid was a player turning the rules on its head, instead strategizing to lose every single trick that’s played. A successful player could easily push a team into victory, earning 100 points in a single round. However, winning a single trick was a loss of 100.

“And I don’t really need to ask you, do I, Kirari-chan?”

“Blind nil, please,” Kirari replied anyway, her smirk twitching just a bit in both exuberance and confidence. It was the riskiest bid of the game, but a successful round won it at once. 200 points to gain and 200 points to lose on failure. Already in the first game, the two teams were butting heads with the strategies of the stronger player guaranteeing victory.

“And Yobami-san?”

“Ten.”

“No surprise. Ririka-chan?”

She glanced at her hand, then back to Kirari just once. The action wasn’t lost on the others at the table. Mary didn’t know if the hesitance was a bluff or genuine at this point. “... Seven.” Safe bet, and showed the difference of styles immediately. Ririka was gauging the skills and playing field, while Kirari was throwing her strongest right at the start. There wasn’t any need to bet higher or lower though. If Kirari succeeded, they would win the game anyway, and if she failed, a penalty of 200 points would be nearly impossible to get out of anyway. They would have to rely on Inbami failing too. And even still…

“That ends the bidding round! Kirari-chan, you’re okay to look at your hand now~” Kirari picked up all 13 with fluid motion, peering into the contents without a word or expression to give whether her luck was fortunate or not. Runa nodded approvingly. “Now let’s start the trick!”

Inbami set down a two of hearts, and Mary winced. Bad start. Inbami was guaranteed to lose the trick. If she had low numbers like that and no spades, she would be cinching the nil in no time. It didn’t mean Kirari couldn’t as well though, and as she placed a four of hearts in return, looked strong to do so. Ririka followed with a King of Hearts, then Yobami with a reluctant ten. Ririka quietly gathered the four card pile and shuffled them into a neat stack in front of her.

The tricks followed lightning quick following. Five of clover starting, following by a seven, nine, and then ending with a Jack, earning Yobami the second trick. Nine of hearts, six, ten, and an ace. Yobami for third. It followed with rapid order, slammed in the center of table with the familiarity of the game from all players. No matter how quickly the order was played, there was no argument of which card came with what hand or who won an individual trick. Mary noticed how much the sisters were focusing on Kirari’s own responses, her own casual mannerisms as she kept playing low card after low card into the pile. It seemed each move was personally addressed to her. Throughout the tricks, Yobami remained the clear dominant victor-- squashing the chances that Ririka would earn her total bid more and more.

By the halfway point, it was obvious Ririka was under, only having earned two tricks to the total seven played. Yobami had a strong hand, and clearly, the sisters had communicated this strategy to one another. The only thing they could do was hope that she went over half of her bid to make up for what points would be lost by clumsy playing. Trick eight and nine went without much hope. Then as a round of diamonds came down, the room fell into a deafening silence as Kirari placed an ace of spades onto the pile.

“Are… are you serious?” Mary asked, dumbfounded.

Kirari laughed, as if this was another casual game among friends. “It’s not like I could exchange it for another card, Saotome-san. It seems this round was mine to lose~”

A light smile spread on Inbami’s face, and both sisters looked visibly relieved by the turn of events. Both Ririka and Yobami put down low spades in return and without much fanfare, Kirari gathered her lowly trick to her side of the table. There was nothing they could do now. The first game had been lost. All parties easily realized it now after too, Yobami cinching the win for her team by trick 12, gathering her tenth trick into the line of stacks in front of her-- her sister still clear without a single stack. Trick 13 was one by Ririka’s single card left, an ace of diamonds.

Runa gathered the cards with a satisfied smile, shuffling them in her tiny hands with ease and practice. “First game to Yobami-san and Inbami-san! And it’s nice to see the games proceeding so quickly~. I’m sure the other players would love to have this room back.”

“I figured a lack of audience would be more… suitable.”

Kirari shrugged. “Sayaka wouldn’t have cared honestly. She can have quite the single-track mind.”

Runa hummed in agreement before dealing the cards out once more. “You’re quiet today, Kirari-chan~”

“Simply enjoying the challenge. I’m surprised Miyo and Miri could actually bring one to me.”

Inbami scowled at the comment, but said nothing as the cards were passed among the table once again. This time, Kirari did pick up her hand, humming a small tune as she gazed onto her cards thoughtfully. Yobami and Inbami tensed with the intrusions, sharing a look with one another. Was it a positive observation? A negative? Facing someone like Kirari meant second guessing every movement and action brought into the game. Kirari seemed well aware of it, maybe even humoring their close observation of her.

This time, Ririka didn’t pick up her cards. She stared ahead, passed Kirari and the empty roulette tables behind her-- fixating on a random spot on the wall as she waited. Like the last game, both Yobami and Inbami picked up their hand. It made sense. It benefited them more to play it safe. As Mary thought, they were likely sharing knowledge of their cards as to guess their chances against the cards the other two players had-- taking advantage of their nonverbal cues to one another.

Runa seemed to pick up on the habit too, looking onto the pair of sisters with annoyance. Yet, there really wasn’t any solid way to prove it. “Ah, Ririka-chan, your turn now is it?”

Ririka simply nodded, affirming her bid as the blind nil.

“And Kirari-chan?”

“Four~.” … A safe bet? It was just enough to avoid the penalty if she picked up more tricks than she needed. If a player picked up 10 over what they bid, it was an automatic 100 point penalty. However, if Ririka succeeded in the blind nil, they at least would be granted 100 points for the team.

“And Yobami-san?”

“... Three.”

Runa nodded affirmatively. “Inbami-san?”

“Seven.”

Not as aggressive this time, but still a prediction of winning a majority of the tricks. The sisters were confident after the easy victory of the first game. With a quick affirmation from Runa, Ririka picked up her hand. All relatively low numbers, which was lucky. Even three twos. Mary then blanched at the sight of the queen of spades in there. Then a king of diamonds. No aces, but it would still make playing the round without winning tricks difficult.

Kirari began without prompting, and started strong with an ace of diamonds. Ririka placed the king of diamonds in response (relieved no doubt to be rid of the suit), which was followed by a four and a six respectively. Kirari gathered her pile, not saying a word to the group of people around her, only passing a small grin over to Mary as she arranged her pile. She had no idea what the smile meant.

Like before, the tricks went quickly-- Ririka playing as masterfully as she’d seen anyone else play. On trick seven, Kirari started strong with another ace, snatching Yobami and Inbami’s focus enough for Ririka to sneak the queen of spades in. Without thought, Inbami had won the trick with a king of spades of her own, ridding her partner of her worst card and continuing the nil bid streak. By trick ten, they were still looking strong with Kirari having a total of six tricks won to Inbami’s three and Yobami’s one.

Then, Mary’s phone rang.

Kirari paused mid card placement, quickly adding it back to her hand as the rest of the players regarded the observer skeptically.

Runa sighed. “C’mon Mary-chan! This is serious.”

“I know that!” Mary-chan flushed. The turn of events had happened so quickly she hadn’t thought of even turning her phone off. She turned away from the group as she fished her phone out of the pocket of her blazer. She didn’t recognize the number on the screen. With a huff, Mary swiped to answer, snapping a quick, “What?!” as greeting.

“Don’t tell them who it is.”

Mary paused, and thought quickly on what to say. “Yumeko, I don’t have time for this. This better be important.”

“Tell Ririka five.”

“... That’s it? That’s all you had to tell me?” She hadn’t the slightest idea of what that meant. Maybe it was something special between the two of them. A code word, or some kind of alarm system. Midari’s voice on the other end was serious though-- more serious than she had ever heard her. She tried not to think on what the implications were, and how little she heard other than Midari’s voice on the other end. “I’m in a game right now, so just… I don’t know. Lunch later?”

She could even hear the scowl on the other end. “Just work it out yourself. I got other stuff to do if I can’t watch.”

“I’ll tell you about it later, Yumeko. I need to go.” And Mary hung up the phone. She would find out later what that meant, she guessed. She turned to face the table that waited patiently for her return, even as Mary had nothing to do with the actual events of the game.

Mary sighed and returned to Ririka’s left. “Sorry, I swear she calls at the worst times,” she let the lie slip out easily as she traced the number five between Ririka’s shoulder blades. She felt Ririka stiffen under her touch, as unaccustomed to the contact as Mary was-- and even stranger still to feel the muscles twitch and tense under her finger. She tried not to think on it, especially as Ririka gazed up at her with the most doe-eyed puzzled look that she’d ever seen.

Mary’s stomach churned. Great. She had no idea either.

Runa shrugged and gestured to the table. “Let’s keep going then!”

The momentum came back in full swing, as if the interruption never occurred at all. By the last trick, the game wasn’t looking much better in Yobami and Inbami’s favor, and it showed with the harsh lines of Inbami’s face, clearly frustrated by the way Kirari casually played. Kirari hadn’t won a single trick again, and seemed to just be playing trash cards. Mary wasn’t even sure she was even looking at her hand as she was choosing them. As she tossed her last card blindly on the table, Inbami nearly lost her mind.

“Will you take this seriously?!” Ririka did her best ignoring her as she quietly placed her two of diamonds down in response. It didn’t matter what the other two players did at this point. Ririka had cleared the victory for them.

“And game two goes to Ririka-chan and Kirari-chan!” Runa confirmed as she gathered the cards back up in her tiny fingers.

It seemed to only agitate Inbami more. “Ririka, how could you be satisfied with this?” she tried to gauge, even though the sister had cleared the victory for them. “You’ll be living in your twin’s shadow your entire life. If we win, at least you’ll have a chance to be free.”

“She’s doing just fine here,” Mary interjected quickly as she squeezed her partner’s shoulder as reassurance. “Focus on your strategy for once.”

Runa laughed. “Giving advice to the opponents isn’t allowed either, Mary-chan~,” but she made no motion to penalize either party as she re-shuffled the deck.

“Saotome, you have just as much to lose here. How can you be happy with how carelessly Kirari is playing things?!” Mary kept her mouth shut, only glancing to Kirari for confirmation of what was happening.

Kirari nodded in return.

“Maybe she isn’t. I know she isn’t going to lose to you two at least. You’re shit gamblers.”

“That win was a fluke, Saotome. And we’ll show it in this last game,” Yobami quipped with an icy leer. Mary dismissed her easily, just as Runa began dealing the cards once more.

Ririka spared enough attention to the cards to catch them from sliding off the table, but that was it. They remained firmly face down once again, this time looking resolute and ready for the kill. Kirari on the other hand yawned as she gathered her cards in her hand, cradling her cheek with her hand as she looked onto her cards. It only seemed to irritate the sisters further.

Mary recognized the bait and switch easily, but was perhaps pleasantly surprised by the amount of trust Kirari was placing on her sister to actually carry the big moves in the game. Their opponents were none the wiser by the ploy, even though by now they had to have known about Ririka’s own gains in the election so far.

Inbami wasn’t looking at her cards either, mirroring Ririka with a far more emotional intent behind it. This was the last game. It didn’t surprise Mary that both were playing with everything they had.

Runa seemed to pick up on the change of atmosphere herself. She didn’t even bother asking Inbami and Ririka this time, putting the focus on the two girls that actually bothered to look at their cards.

“Kirari-chan?”

“Four.” Same as before.

“Alright. Yobami-san?”

“... Four.”

Runa raised a skeptical brow, but said nothing, merely waving her hand to approve the two players that kept their hand on the table.

Mary didn’t even bother to look at Ririka’s hand this time. If they were this stupid to try to mirror their bids like this, there was no point. Someone was going to go over. At least half the table would. Instead, she focused on Inbami’s face as she peered at her hand. And there, just the slightest twitch of her scowl, that she knew that the twins had guaranteed victory.

It was like a slow march to death as they played. The girls hesitated with each pull, as if waiting and biding their time to see if the twins would make a mistake first. They didn’t. Kirari regarded her twin’s moves carefully as she started each trick, playing high when Ririka started with a less than stellar trick, and playing blindly when it was safe to do so. The twins regarded each other more like they were just sharing afternoon tea, rather than sealing their opponents’ fates to being servants-- devoured by the stronger family.

By the final trick, it was clear that both twins had stopped caring. Kirari gazed at her sister thoughtfully as she dumped her final card on the table, the ace of spades fluttering harmlessly on the wood before Ririka had a chance to even play the first card on the table. It was then Mary began to notice something strange between the two, as both sisters looked on, crestfallen to the card that sealed their fate.

“Why waste their time further sister? Just tell them,” Kirari spoke softly as her edges became more familiar, more rounded and less like a predator. “They should at least know why they’ve lost.”

Ririka laughed, and the sound was so harsh that Mary immediately peeled her hand away from the girl’s shoulder, recognizing the trickery immediately. Her heart burned at the thought. The implications that she couldn’t even notice.

Inbami’s face slipped and she trembled. Yobami was at her side immediately, as if trying to shield and protect her sister as ‘Ririka’ stood from her seat, crumpling the two of diamonds in her hand and throwing it on the center of the table. The smile on her face was cold. Mary had never seen such a grin so thick with malice, and it really complimented the fire that was clear in her eyes. She couldn’t…

She couldn’t believe how much Ririka had that face.

Kirari brushed the long tresses of her silver hair behind her shoulder before circling the table to greet the newest members of the Momobami clan. There was no love there. No compassion.

Yobami stood her full height between her and her older sister, trying to meet the president with courage. Mary could appreciate the protectiveness she held, but it was too late. Kirari simply grabbed the collar of her blazer and shoved her away, batting her off like an insect.

“Miri!” Inbami called out as her sister crashed into the wood floor, only to have her attention snatched away by sharp nails. They dug into her chin as Kirari wrenched her face back, forcing eye contact mere inches away from each other. It wasn’t so different from when Ririka had done it at the start of the game, but the energy was far, far different.

Kirari’s eyes were wild, looming over the girl with a burning hot anger that looked completely foreign on her. As if it was never meant to be there, so open -- so honest. It didn’t look human on Kirari’s face. “Did you really think I would let people like you take Sayaka? To corner her alone and desperate and take advantage of her? You were so easy to trick.”

“Sister, w-wait--” Ririka tried to interject, already tugging the braids loose from her hair.

Kirari snapped her head up to regard her twin coldly, giving Inbami enough distraction to tear herself away. She bolted out of her chair, smacking it to the floor as she tried to create enough distance between herself and the president. She made it about five steps before Kirari was on her again, grabbing her arm and yanking her closer. Inbami looked wide-eyed and terrified as she desperately tore a baggie out of her pocket, containing a familiar syringe.

Mary finally found her voice. “Wait, Inbami stop!”

Ignoring her commands, the girl crushed the glass syringe with a shaky fist, staring at Kirari defiantly as she did so. “... It’s the last one,” she said as she dropped all of it to the floor.

It was enough to give Kirari pause. She peered at the broken syringe curiously for a moment, as if a foreign species that warranted dissection. It was enough that Inbami looked less frazzled, unwisely more triumphant as she backed further away from Kirari. There had to be more right? It was cruel to condemn an innocent girl to die like that… but Mary could almost commend that final act of rebellion before servitude.

But Kirari started laughing. Light, almost overjoyed at the sight of it.

“What… What’s so funny? She’s dead now! You realize that, don’t you? That was the last--”

“We fell five stories together, Saotome-san. It was the solution that saved Sayaka’s life that night.”

Mary’s eyes widened.

Kirari thought nothing of it as she picked up the discarded and broken syringe before giving the baggie back to the bewildered Inbami. “I’m the head of the clan. Of course I would recognize an Inbami specialty when I see one. Saotome-san’s little phone call was for me. Not her.”

“What?”

“If they called me directly, you would be suspicious, wouldn’t you? But… Saotome-san would’ve given away that Sayaka was fine if she had been just told that. That girl is truly fascinating.”

Inbami just sank to her knees. “... So all this time…?”

Kirari chuckled. “... I didn’t have a single thing to lose.” She regarded the prone girl with little fascination, and spun on her heel back toward the exit. “We’ll discuss the details on our family merger later, Miyo. I’ll leave letting the families know to you in the meantime~. ...Runa, if you could collect payment for me?”

“You got it, Kirari-chan!”

She strode confidently, only stopping just once to pass an odd, unfamiliar smile to Mary. “Try to keep the doting to my sister next time~.”

“W-What?!”

Kirari laughed all the way to the exit, only cutting off to silence once the door closed. She could hear one of the girls quietly crying by the table, and as Mary looked on, she realized that Ririka refused to meet her gaze.

All Mary could settle on at that moment was numbness.

--

“Am I becoming that predictable to you, Sayaka~?”

Her eyes fluttered open, just in time to see Kirari whisper-close the door to the hospital room, a lightly small smile playing on blue-tinted lips. It’d been so rare before, but now she enjoyed counting the moments she caught the genuine upturn of her lips. How soft and satisfied the president seemed with that expression. How she fell in love with her again with each moment spared between them.

“Only so I could help you more, President,” she responded back confidently, even as her voice sounded hoarse and foreign through her burned lungs. The last few hours had been a haze of half-remembered nightmares, but she knew at least, by her president’s arrival, that her actions had been correct. She scooted forward and tried to prop herself up using her arms, cursing inwardly as she saw how much the quaked by the smallest bit of pressure.

“Allow me.” Kirari was there in an instant, pressing a cool hand at the small of her back as she slowly pushed her up to a sitting position. It gave her a moment to admire the softness curving her eyes-- gentle and intimate. It was a new discovery, the source of which Sayaka tried not to think too much on. “Recovery will take a bit of time.” She didn’t move her hand.

“You don’t have the time to wait, President.”

Kirari didn’t respond for a moment, taking the time to sit at the side of her bed with barely the space for Sayaka to breathe. She tried not to focus on the lack of distance-- reminded herself that this wasn’t so different from what Kirari normally did. That this didn’t change anything and be okay with what they had, be ok-- “... You should have told me when it first happened,” the admonishing was unexpected. “If I had been wrong--”

“But I knew you wouldn’t be.”

Kirari’s brow furrowed in a strange look, what she almost thought was uncertainty (and that never was the case, so surely, Sayaka was wrong there) but the lopsided smirk made it seem more amused than anything else. She brushed dark bangs away with her free hand, chuckling at the hitching of Sayaka’s breath. “We’ll wait.”

Sayaka spluttered. “Don’t be unreasonable! The amount of chances you’ll be losing just to wait on me is--”

The soft lips moving against hers rendered all arguments, all fire moot within her. She focused on the light fingers that traced her cheek, stopping to lightly graze her jawline as Kirari kept her close. It wasn’t the dramatic kiss Sayaka always imagined it’d be. It was slow, graceful, and as Sayaka shakily latched onto the sleeves on her blazer-- reciprocating the touch she’d been waiting for so long-- opened herself to far more of Kirari than what she thought possible. Her scent, the hair and braids against her skin, the curvature of Kirari’s smile as the president pulled away.

Her hand rested on the back of Sayaka’s neck, keeping their foreheads together, and lips too tantalizingly close for her to resist. “... We move forward together.”

Sayaka had never realized how much more rewarding it was to be at her side than trailing behind.

#kiwi crossposts #kakegurui #fanfiction #multichapter fics #kirasaya #kirarixsayaka #kirari x sayaka #maryxririka #mary x ririka

[onwesterlywinds]

Livvy Ahtynwyb: So where are you all thinking? Dalmasca, or Bozja?

Hinako Daigo beams at Crimson Bull. Hinako Daigo: Likewise, Bull. I got word of movement and made my way back here accordingly. Crimson Bull: I just wonder what could be in Bozja that Garlemald would put their grubby mitts on... Crimson Bull seems lost in thought. Livvy Ahtynwyb: It's definitely weird. Like, why now? Crimson Bull: Either they're laying the worst trap in history, or… there's actually somethin' there. Lif Silverlode: Even if something could have survived what happened there, it beggars belief that Garlemald would have waited so long to recover it. Suraja Solveig: I mean, could be both, no? Livvy Ahtynwyb: Yeah, could definitely be both. ...I'm just hoping this doesn't lead to worse things for Dalmasca. Crimson Bull: As long as those rocks are gone, I don't think it can be any worse than that. Crimson Bull chuckles nervously. Hinako Daigo: Is it true that the IVth Legion has been building their presence there? Suraja Solveig refrains from making another joke about Bull becoming a rock. Livvy Ahtynwyb: Yeah, the IVth have kept Dalmasca under lock and key. Hinako Daigo: Sorry, in Bozja I mean. Livvy Ahtynwyb: That, I don't know. I don't think anyone knows much at all about Bozja unless they've been living there. Crimson Bull: Only thing I've been told of Bozja is there's a crater where Dalamud said 'hello'... Suraja Solveig: I read about that..! The meteor. In th'library, I mean. We're goin' there? Livvy Ahtynwyb: Two possibilities, the way I see it. Either there's something left among all the rubble, or there's something that's got van Gabranth quaking in his boots. Livvy Ahtynwyb: Like... revolution. Maybe. Hinako Daigo folds her arms. Hinako Daigo: Perhaps a little bit of both. Crimson Bull: Suppose with liberations happening, it'd be in their best interest to quash anythin' before it got too big... Suraja Solveig: Don't mean t'hold back th'conversation but... how large a force are we talkin'? Livvy Ahtynwyb: I don't think anyone outside the Empire really knows. Crimson Bull: That's a good point...are they fully mobilizin'? Or is it a smaller force? Lif Silverlode: I have a hard time believing that it could be something as simple as a revolution. Based on my limited understanding of Othard's current state, Dalmasca is bigger and has a greater recent history of uprising. It makes no sense for them to pull out just to quell a revolt in such a small area. Livvy Ahtynwyb: Yeah... Yeah, that's true. Hinako Daigo: The IVth Legion predominant in the area makes use of more arcane tactics few legions typically trend. The issue of the 'holy stones' from the last mission were a sample of that. I would consider that they have discovered something new of interest. Crimson Bull laughs nervously at the thought of more magic stones... Livvy Ahtynwyb looks a little surprised. Lif Silverlode: Also, Bozja is closer to Garlemald itself. Why didn't one of the other legions from the homeland come in? Something is off. I have to agree with Hinako's assessment. Livvy Ahtynwyb: You, uh... have a lot of experience with the IVth? Lif Silverlode: No. I've never been to Dalmasca. I'm just thinking from a tactical point of view. Livvy Ahtynwyb: Mmm, yeah. Crimson Bull: All I know about the IVth is I owe them for these beauty marks on my arms. Livvy Ahtynwyb nods, a serious expression on her face. Hinako Daigo seems lost in thought. Livvy Ahtynwyb: Well, I'll help you out from a distance. I've got some shit to settle closer to Valnain. Not quite within range of Rabanastre, but maybe close enough that I can help if push comes to shove. Crimson Bull: Yeah, we'll have to see how badly they want whatever it is in Bozja... Crimson Bull seems lost in thought. Livvy Ahtynwyb: So Suraja, have you done much Garlean-fighting? Livvy Ahtynwyb is wondering if Suraja Solveig is a Dalmascan Viera. Suraja Solveig: No, but I've heard nothin' but terrible things so I'm lookin' forward to it. Suraja Solveig shrugs. Livvy Ahtynwyb: Good! That is, if you were hearing good things, we'd have some problems. Livvy Ahtynwyb grins. Livvy Ahtynwyb: Luckily for you, there's no better place to be for fighting Garleans than the Riskbreakers. Crimson Bull: Absolutely. Hinako Daigo: It is nice to have you for the cause, regardless of where you're from. Golmore or otherwise. Suraja Solveig: Just hopin' I can bring somethin' to th'team! Hinako Daigo smiles weakly at Suraja Solveig. Suraja Solveig: Ah. Okay... ever heard of Th'First? I hear that's what y'call it here.. Livvy Ahtynwyb: Yeah! I've been away with the fae for a bit myself. Suraja Solveig: T'keep it short? From there. Pretty sure m'real bodies still there because... well, I've been havin' dreams 'bout that.. Suraja Solveig takes a minute to absorb her owns words. Definitely felt like she was talking crazy sometimes. Hinako Daigo: I wasn't going to press, but I knew something about your qi was different the moment I arrived. Suraja Solveig: Qi... Is that like th'Mist? Suraja Solveig: What was it? Aether, right? Suraja Solveig shrugs at Crimson Bull. Hinako Daigo: The Mist... Yes! Just so. Or aether, however you see fit to deem it. Suraja Solveig: Don't mean t'derail the conversation.. Sorry. Crimson Bull: Best y'explain than people get suspicious, y'know? Suraja Solveig: Though, Hina, was it? Maybe y'can help me figure some things out sometime... Suraja Solveig nods to Crimson Bull. Crimson Bull places a hand to his chin. Crimson Bull: So what's the plan? Head back out, sniff the situation? Hinako Daigo nods. Hinako Daigo: Certainly. We can discuss later as to not draw away from the matter at hand. The more we can ascertain, the better. The less need to jump in blind like before, the better. Livvy Ahtynwyb nods. Livvy Ahtynwyb: I guess with that said... where do you all think you want to go? Feels like Rabanastre and Bozja both have something to offer. And have their own risks. Crimson Bull: If the IVth Legion is goin' to Bozja, then that's where I wanna be. Suraja Solveig: Since... I don't know much about this, what d'ya think I should do? Livvy Ahtynwyb: Well... if you want to learn more about the Empire, and how to fight them... you can't go wrong with learning from Ashe. Crimson Bull nods in agreement. Crimson Bull: Boss is a great leader, second-to-none. If y'wanted to prove anythin' prove it to her. Suraja Solveig: I'm open t'anythin' really. Yer all pretty skilled. Feel like I can't go wrong. Suraja Solveig nods to Crimson Bull. Crimson Bull: Then that choice is all yours. Suraja Solveig: Guess I'll have t'talk t'Ashe then! Livvy Ahtynwyb: What about you, Lif? First Riskbreaker mission, what are you feeling? Lif Silverlode gazes upon you in deep reflection. Lif Silverlode: I am deeply curious about what is going on in Bozja, but I am unsure of how suited I am for that type of reconnaissance mission. I think Dalmasca might be better suited to my skillset. Livvy Ahtynwyb: Yeah, that sounds about right. Livvy Ahtynwyb: Hey. At least we won't be stuck twenty thousand fulms in the air with a bunch of theater people. Suraja Solveig fails to understand you. Crimson Bull: They were nice enough people! If anythin' we were the pain in the ass. Crimson Bull bursts out laughing. Suraja Solveig: Theater people? Hinako Daigo scoffs at Crimson Bull. Livvy Ahtynwyb: Garlean theater people. Lif Silverlode: That sounds like an interesting story. Suraja Solveig squints. Lif Silverlode: Wait. The Prima Vista? Livvy Ahtynwyb: Yeah! Lif Silverlode: I had no idea they were still in operation... Crimson Bull: I do owe them a proper apology for makin' them accessories to murder...or somethin' like that... Bull rubs his neck sheepishly. Suraja Solveig: Eh..? Suraja Solveig makes a straight face at Crimson Bull. Crimson Bull: Remember how I told you about the stone? Yeah. Suraja Solveig: Yeah, when you turned into a rock? Suraja Solveig stifles a chuckle as best she can. Crimson Bull rolls his eyes. Crimson Bull: Yes, when I turned into a rock. Suraja Solveig bursts out laughing. Livvy Ahtynwyb: I mean, you are already about as solid as a rock. Let's be real here. Hinako Daigo: I'm sorry, turned *into* a rock? Crimson Bull: That's what I said! Suraja Solveig: Sorry, sorry... Lif Silverlode suddenly tries to remember if the Prima Vista and her crew are well known among Eorzeans. Crimson Bull: I guess bein' possessed by a stone means you become it... Crimson Bull shrugs. Suraja Solveig: But I get what yer sayin'. The thing in th'stone made y'really strong and aggressive, yeah? Hinako Daigo: Ah! Hinako let out a soft chuckle. I see... Crimson Bull: That's...one way to put it, yeah. he sighs, Didn't feel great, I can tell ya that... Crimson Bull: Certainly didn't help my relationship with Fawn, that's for sure... Hinako Daigo: Hn... Suraja Solveig consoles Crimson Bull. Suraja Solveig: Remember! Yer gettin' married once this is all over! Hinako Daigo is taken aback by Crimson Bull. Livvy Ahtynwyb is shocked! Crimson Bull reaches out. Crimson Bull: Shhhh! I wasn't gonna tell EVERYONE quite yet! Shoot... Livvy Ahtynwyb: YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED?! Suraja Solveig: Y-You didn't tell me it was...! Livvy Ahtynwyb screams. Livvy Ahtynwyb: OH MY GODS!!! Crimson Bull rubs the back of his neck. Crimson Bull: S...surprise? Hinako Daigo: Oh...! Well, congratulations...! Crimson Bull: Once all of this is settled... everyone's invited. Suraja Solveig: Why didn't ya tell me? Now I feel all bad! Suraja Solveig is frustrated. Crimson Bull: I didn't have a chance to! Shoot... Livvy Ahtynwyb: It's okay! I'm fucking off to Valnain soon. Who am I gonna tell? Livvy Ahtynwyb will absolutely tell Hrjt Brotin. Suraja Solveig: Mm, well, I'm still sorry! But! We're all happy for ya, and I think everyone here loves ya very much, so.. Crimson Bull: I'm sure you'll find someone... Crimson Bull rolls his eyes. Crimson Bull: Just...don't...don't tell the Boss, yeah? I can do it myself. Suraja Solveig: Now that I know it's a secret I'm not sayin' a word. Crimson Bull: I wasn't meanin' it to be a secret but... there's probably a better time to tell everyone. Crimson Bull shrugs. Livvy Ahtynwyb: Yeah. Yeah, I feel you. Livvy Ahtynwyb gets up off her stool, still grinning a bit. Livvy Ahtynwyb: Right! I'll leave you all to it. If I don't see you all before you ship out, then best of luck. Definitely don't break a leg. Lif Silverlode: Oh! Before we part- Crimson Bull: Likewise! he gives Livvy Ahtynwyb a playful shove. Suraja Solveig: I'll make sure t'talk to Ashelia and work out what we're doin' with me. Crimson Bull nods to Suraja Solveig. Crimson Bull: Good idea. Lif Silverlode: I'm not sure who is leading things over here, but I might have an idea for getting us over to Othard without Garlemald catching on. Livvy Ahtynwyb: Oooh! I'd say, uh... Suraja Solveig: Nice meetin' you two. I'll be sure t'talk with ya in the future, Hinako. Livvy Ahtynwyb: Maybe talk to Rosenheim? Sounds like he's the one dialed in to all the plans. Suraja Solveig bids farewell. Livvy Ahtynwyb: See ya, Suraja! Crimson Bull bids farewell to Suraja Solveig. Lif Silverlode's face drops. Lif Silverlode: Ah. Right. I'll make sure he knows. Hinako Daigo performs an Eastern bow before Suraja Solveig. Livvy Ahtynwyb: Alright! Catch you all later! Crimson Bull: Don't have too much fun! Livvy Ahtynwyb: Hey, you neither! Livvy Ahtynwyb puts on a taunting grin.

#The Victor's Laurels #Livvy Ahtynwyb #Crimson Bull #Hinako Daigo #Lif Silverlode #Suraja Solveig

[sayitoverss]

seventh-floor corridor | remus lupin x reader

thank you jazzy (@hrmionegrnger​ / @hollandstom​) for having talent and not only editing the graphic, but editing the entire piece for me. I love you with my whole heart

word count: 3k

warnings: none :) not even swearing!!! 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“oh my gosh, oh goodness. nope, no thank you, not today!”

you knew it was bound to happen someday, it was inevitable, but not this soon. well, it has been a few years, but to you, anytime would be too soon. the letter from remus had only been an invitation to join them for a small get-together in the gryffindor common room, with the day’s password for entry. but as soon as you read the handwriting that was so obviously his, blood rushed to your cheeks and a wide smile spread across your face.

for the past couple of weeks, you’d subconsciously had the same reaction to each of his friendly gestures, but it wasn't until now that you'd connected the dots. the butterflies when he smiled at you from his place in your shared classes, the urge to dress nicely when he would be around, the blush that overtook your features when he wrote to you. if anyone else was watching, they would’ve seen it. in hindsight, it was so clear, but not all things are constantly visible, and you wished you could’ve remained blind.

you sat down on the soft bed you’d called yours for the past six years, closing the yellow drapes around you. the plants of the hufflepuff dormitories crept in through the openings above, vines wrapping slowly around the simple wooden bed frame, securing it from your dorm mates if they were to walk in.

you remained in silence for a few moments, the only noise to be heard in the room was the sound of your breathing. sunlight streamed in through the windows, casting faint shadows across the dorm. in theory, it was peaceful, an environment many would find to be soothing. but when your thoughts were running wild with the worst possibilities, those same comforts became mere background noise in the zoo of your mind.

ten minutes passed in silence before a knock sounded at the door, awakening you from the nightmare that had begun to form in your mind. “y/n?” said the voice, quickly recognizable as kate’s. she opened the door, the sound of her light footsteps replacing the silence in the room.

she pulled back the drapes to find you laying back against the headboard. you looked distraught, anxious, a state no one would want to find their best friend in. “what happened?”

“remus. remus lupin happened,” you replied quietly.

“what did he do? do I need to kick his arse?”

“just... exist. you don’t need to do anything, he did nothing wrong.”

“then what’s the issue?” kate asked.

“he did everything right,” you mumbled, looking up at her. “I got an owl from him a few minutes ago inviting me over, and I’m uh- I’ve just realized some things.”

“you like him?” she inferred excitedly.

“um, yeah. I guess so.”

“Y/N! finally!”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“do you know how many bets I’ve made on you two? it’s about time!”

“sure, kate. don’t get your hopes up!” you warned.

“are you sure it’s my hopes you’re worried about?” kate smirked. “honestly, though, I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s liked you for a while. just write back to him already!”

“oh, shoot, yeah. good idea,” you said, glancing at the owl sat on the window sill. 

“I’m full of those.”

she got up off the bed, and you moved to sit at the old writing desk by the window. you got yourself a small piece of parchment, then opened the inkwell. you dipped your quill in the black liquid, letting the excess drip off before you placed it to the parchment. your quill danced across the page as you wrote your response, apologizing for responding so late and telling him you’d be there in ten minutes.

you rolled the parchment and tied it gently to the owl’s leg. after giving the owl and extra treat for waiting so long, you sent it off, then performed a quick cleaning charm on your hands to rid them of the ink. waving kate goodbye and promising to meet her at supper, you set off to the gryffindor common room.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

the walk through the castle to gryffindor tower had become a familiar one. you travelled it most days, so in just minutes, you had arrived at the portrait of the fat lady that controlled the entrance to the common room. “oh hello, miss y/l/n. did mr. lupin tell you the password again?”

“you know he always does. pumpernickel,” you smiled, remembering how upset she used to get with him whenever he shared the password with you. when she realized he wasn’t going to stop, though, she’d begun to take a liking to you. the door swung open, and you climbed through the portrait hole into the commons.

students were scattered in various places throughout the room, very few fazed by your entry. the marauders were all seated by the fire, along with frank, alice and lily. you were the only member of the group who was in a different house, and while that had caused some issues at first, they, too, had learned to love you just as remus did- but platonically.

lily was the first to spot you, calling your name over the chatter. she beamed as you walked over, sitting in between her and remus. “I missed you,” she said, drawing out the end of the sentence.

“I was here yesterday! but I missed you too, lils,” you laughed. aside from remus, lily was your closest friend of the gryffindors. you’d known her for just a year less than you had remus, but despite this, you’d become almost as close.

“what a lovely welcome for the rest of us, y/n. thank you for coming!” remus joked, sarcasm ringing in his words.

“come on, rem. you know I love you just as much.”

sirius and james looked at remus knowingly, as he spoke again, blushing, “of course I do, and I love you too.”

“so when are you two finally going to sneak off and snog?”

“james! we couldn’t and wouldn’t! besides, if that’s what we’re considering ‘tension’, you and sirius would be right up there with us,” you exclaimed, trying desperately to refrain from blushing.

“who says we’re not in love?”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

with each passing day, you were finding it harder and harder to be in his presence. you needed to get away from your thoughts, from other people. so after supper friday evening, you waved kate goodbye and set off to the seventh floor corridor. 

the room of requirement had been a soothing place for you since you and remus had found it in third year, and you often visited it together and separately. normally, you went in search of a place to be comfortable, but you didn’t need the reminder of remus right now. you just needed to get away from the possibilities, so that’s exactly what you thought to get rid of.

“I need to know the truth, I need to know the truth,” you thought, pacing in front of the old stone wall. within moments, a door had appeared for you. you sighed, relieved that it worked. you opened the door, looking around the unfamiliar room curiously as you took a step in. when you finally looked straight ahead, the sight ahead of you stopped you in your tracks.

lily and remus were stood there, closer than they usually would be. remus was facing away from the door, lily looking right ahead at you. their position wasn’t what threw you off guard, but the words that remus was speaking. “I know you probably don’t like me back, but um, I was wondering if-”

“y/n,” lily whispered, panic overtaking her features as you quickly turned around to leave. 

“what?” remus asked, stopping in the middle of his sentence.

“um, nothing, don’t worry about it. I just need to go find her, something’s wrong,” she explained quickly, suddenly becoming antsy.

“how do you know that? do you need help?” he worried, afraid that something had happened that he didn’t know about.

“I said not to worry about it! I’ll catch up to you later, remus!” she replied as she ran out the door. she sprinted down the corridor, glancing down each of the branching hallways as she went by. nothing, you were nowhere to be found.

you only ever went to two places when you needed to think, the room of requirement and the hospital wing. considering you had just been at the former, lily set to the first floor of the castle. when she arrived, she found you replenishing potions at a student’s bedside.

“y/n, I swear it wasn’t what it looked like!” she spoke frantically.

“lily, be quiet! they’re sleeping!” you exclaimed in a whisper. “I’ll talk to you in a moment.” you placed the bottle back down on the nightstand, fixed your apron, then turned to face her. “what was it, then?”

“I- I can’t tell you,” lily mumbled, looking down at her feet.

you smiled. “I’m happy for you two, lily. I’m glad you found each other.”

“y/n, are you jealous?” you just looked up at her, and the look in your eyes was all she needed to know. “you are. you are jealous! you like him!”

“why are you happy about that?” you questioned, looking at her like she was crazy.

“just don’t worry about it. gotta go!” she said, then sped off.

“lily! wait!” you called, but she was already out the door. you stood in place for a moment, before turning to madam pomfrey. “did you…?”

“yes, dear, and I think we’re thinking the same thing,” she smirked at you.

“I think I’ll just play it safe,” you said to the young matron. “they looked quite happy when I walked in on him asking her out.”

“whatever you think is best, y/n. you know remus better than anyone.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

saturday went by too slowly for your taste, but you knew exactly why. you hadn’t talked to remus all day, even going to the extent of sitting with the ravenclaws at the quidditch match. he knew something was up; usually, you’d stay together whenever you could. but as much as he tried to get it out of lily, she wouldn’t budge. 

you weren’t in the great hall for any meals, but as the gryffindors were leaving supper, he saw kate with an extra plate of food. so it was true, then, you were avoiding him. when they reached the common room, remus was quick to pull lily aside. “okay that’s it, you need to tell me what’s wrong with y/n.”

“she likes you, and she walked in on you practicing to ask her out, and she thought you were asking me out, and I couldn’t explain to her that you weren’t because that would ruin it for you, and now I’m rambling, and I’m sorry,” she babbled worriedly, scared of his reaction.

“wow. okay um, first of all, she whats?” he asked, somewhat in shock.

“she likes you, rem.”

“there is absolutely no way she does. you’re kidding me, right?” a small smile spread across his scarred face.

“no! she really likes you! I’m sure she has for a while, but you know how she is. you need to talk to her,” she spoke excitedly.

“that’s easier said than done, lils. she won’t even talk to me!” he sighed, unsure of how he could at least get you to listen to him.

“well of course she won’t talk to you, she thinks you’re in love with me. you need to start dropping hints that you like her and not me!”

“I don’t know how.”

“let me tell you something. I’ve known you and y/n for four years, and y/n and I talk about things you’d never be allowed to know. she’s easier to get to than you think. but because I’m a good person, I’ll try to help,” she compromised, knowing she’d have to help anyway. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, lily. thank you so much,” he expressed, his features softening.

“of course, rem. I’m always here to help when you need me.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

going to breakfast on sunday was inevitable; kate refused to bring any more food down to the dorms for you. you woke up as early as possible to get up to great hall, in yet another attempt to escape remus. you walked past your sleeping dorm mates and through the common room, you double-checked for your wand before exiting through the hidden entrance.

the walk to the great hall never took too long, but it seemed to drag on for hours with the possibility of having to face him at breakfast. you couldn’t let him know that you’d fallen for him, and if he came over after friday’s incident, you’d have the added burden of his relationship with lily.

lost in your thoughts, it was purely your subconscious that lead you to the right location and around any of the other early risers. that is, until you heard a familiar voice calling your name, “y/n! can you just listen to me, please?”

“no, remus. I’m not in the mood,” you replied, walking away from him.

“you need to hear me out, I promise you won’t regret it,” he pleaded. you turned around to look at him for the first time in days, and finally, you understood. he was a mess, and judging by his reaction to seeing you, you were, too.

“rem, what… what happened to you?” you asked, concerned by his distraught appearance.

“you, you happened. when you stopped talking to me I had no idea why, but lily told me and I just… I don’t know. I really missed you, way more than I should’ve. I know what it looked like, and I can promise, gosh y/n, as much as I love lily, I could never date her. she was just helping me get practice in for if I ever were to ask a girl out, that’s all.

she gave me some advice on how to get you to talk to me, but I uh, I ignored that, and now I’m here, talking to you, apologizing for taking her to our special place. I’m sorry, y/n,” he looked at you with teary eyes as he spoke, and even though he didn’t know the real reason you were upset, it definitely eased your frustration with him.

“rem… I’m so sorry too. I was being stupid, I shouldn’t have overreacted like I did,” you smiled sheepishly at him.

“so we’re good?”

“yeah, we’re good,” you beamed. “care to join me for breakfast, mr. lupin?”

“why of course, miss y/l/n. you needn’t even ask,” he replied, mimicking your posh speech.

when you finally entered the great hall and sat down together at the hufflepuff table, a few more students had arrived, looking confusedly at the pair of you. you only felt relief, though, and honestly, you wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

another week passed, and nothing happened between you two. well, nothing that either of you wanted to happen. it was normal, too normal, considering the tension that had arisen when remus found out about your feelings. what made it worse, though, was that you didn’t know that he knew. he found humour in it, seeing you trying not to blush or slip up, it was flattering, even. but he still didn’t make a move, he knew you would when you were ready.

that time came on thursday, when you went up to him after supper. he was sitting with the other marauders, as always, laughing at a joke peter had told. you walked up from behind, and tapped him on the shoulder. you waited for their laughter to die down before speaking up, “hey rem? can you, uh, meet me in the seven when you’re done? I’m heading up now, so I’ll be there when you arrive.”

“yeah! yeah, of course, y/n. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he said, smiling gently at your nickname for the room of requirement.

“okay, great, I’ll see you soon!” you confirmed before turning around to leave.

when you were gone, james turned to remus, “you think she’s finally gonna shoot her shot?”

“I hope so, I’m so ready,” he laughed.

“we are too, moony. the tension between you two has been unbearably thick this week, we need it to stop.”

“come on, prongs. we aren’t that bad!”

“yes, you are. now get going!”

with that, he sat up from the bench, and set off for the seventh-floor corridor. he walked fast, his long legs adding to the speed that had already been augmented by his anticipation. luckily, the castle and stairs were working in his favour. in five minutes, he was pacing in front of the door, thinking of your usual phrase, “I need to be home, I need to be home.”

the room was a perfectly comfortable mixture of your house and his, and it became even more homely when he walked in to find you on the sofa. he knew that now, you were home to each other. he smiled at you as he entered, and sat on the cushion opposite yourself.

“hey,” he mumbled.

you looked up at him. “you’re making this way more awkward than it needs to be,” you giggled.

he laughed, “you’re the one who invited me here!”

“I guess I’ll get straight to the point then,” you said, adjusting your top anxiously. “I think… I think I’ve fallen in love with you, remus.”

“great minds think alike, I guess, because I think I’ve fallen in love with you too,” he spoke quietly, intimately.

“you have?” you sighed in relief and shock.

“it’s hard not to, y/n,” he blushed. “I’ve done it for three years.”

“really? third year? you really do like me at my best and worst,” you smirked, memories of third year flooding your mind.

“well, your hair was awful, and your makeup was going through some stuff, but I guess I’m just more attracted to personalities!” he chuckled.

“gee thanks, love you too.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

consider reblogging and following for more?

taglist: @serenefreakgeek​ // @hollandstom​

ask to be added to my taglist

#remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus #lupin #rlupin #remuslupin #r lupin #rjlupin #remus john lupin #r j lupin #remus j lupin #r john lupin #remus lupin fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hp #remus lupin imagine #rlupin imagine #harry potter imagine #wizarding world #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin x reader fanfic #remus lupin x reader fanfiction #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader imagine #remus lupin x reader oneshot

[dru-and-ash]

Hey so my friends don't ship Druash and I want to hack them into a little bits of flesh and bone so much but before they die I need to shove into their faces a list of reasons why they should ship Druash help (they ship Druaime like WHO DOES THAT HUH)

Admittedly I ship everyone with everyone (think about Ash and Jaime together) So everyone can ship anyone with anyone….

But Morgenthorn(lets not call them anyting that sounds like drash that reminds me trash) is the only ship I write pages and pages about Can you show these to your friends…

From a past ask: Why do people ship Dru with Ash:

That is one valid question since they haven’t even met yet. Its because Cassie has implied there is a possibility of a love triangle between Dru, Ash and Jaime. And she said several times both Jaime and Ash will have important roles to play in TWPSince Ty&Kit is a ship set to sailOnly other three people left are them. You know…Also small note on Dru’s first introduction said something like “she’ll have an interesting love story in the future.” before CoHF was released just before we learn Sebastian’s affair with the Queen. (she was eight and a thin girl in first drafts) But for me shipping Dru and Ash is purely based on characters.Here are my reasons why 1)They both grew up lonelyDru had her loving family but Julian always saw Emma as his other half and Ty Livvy. We know Livvy was the sibling who spent most time with Dru but Ty being dependent on Livvy and their undying love always made Dru feel left out. Like in Los during those beautiful funny twin moments Kit felt lucky to be involved he also observed how much Dru was left out. So Dru hold on to Tavvy more tightly and read books watched movies more. Because you can do those things alone too.How happy she was when Kit and Ty wanted to let her be involved in their schemes in Qoaad Ash was always alone as far as we were shown because first his mother kept him away to hide his existence. Then unseelie king locked him on that tower, put Raiders of the Mannan as his guardians. Ash never had friends of his own age and any other noble child of court wouldn’t go near him because of the spell(and they probably weren’t allowed).2)They’re both good actors. If you saw my asks about how all twp characters were morally gray then you know what I meanDru unwaveringly lied to Barnabas Hale’s face and then kept it cool when he made that disgusting kinky comment about “her curves”. I wanted to strange the guy but our 13 years old Drusilla was all bussiness. She also hid Jaime in London institute for days with Noone noticing. Ash openly turned a blind eye to Emma and Julian not being endarkened in that nightclub scene. During his unseelie scenes Emma pointed out how cold and calculating he was even at age 12-13. But that was about his survival King kept him as a prisoner. 3) They grew up over protected with not much of choices of their own. Dru due to Julian’s inability to let other people in the Blackthorns life’s because of Arthurs illness. Ash spent his first 13 years locked up in Seelie court first and unseelie court second. Wearing a crown  holding a title, being heir to the both thrones was nothing compared to not being able to decide what he wanted to do. Ash was expandable if he wasn’t to do what King wants like any prisoner. He never had a chance to decide for himself even in Thule where Annabel dragged him to another cage keys held by Sebastian this time. Again prince, recpected, feared but not free. 4)They’re both have strong emphaty Dru always helped Julian with Tavvy even though she herself was 8(yes Julian was 12 but there wasn’t someone older than him). She understood Ty was different but the good kind and she gave Ty&Livvy the space they needed and she was not jealous.Ash described Dru’s mental state so accurately I felt liked someone just hit me. Even Julian or Livvy would never do such an observation (if they did they’d know she needed more people in her life)

Dru turned out to be an outgoing person an entrepreneur like Jia said and she’s free to move away to make friends, rise and shine amongst her peers. And Ash broke his cage in a way when he choose to help Emma so he’ll be able to do more choosing in his life Thule Jace abd Seelie Queen will play effective roles but he’s not a child anymore and surely can defy tyrants.

From what we know from drawing scene he’ll see Dru as a symbol of hope and a friend coz she’s probably closest to a friend he ever had.

Lastly when they met in Los Dru’s open defying made Ash smile because that doesn’t happen muchI see a paralel here with Auraline-Roland Herondale she fell in love with him because he made her laugh.All these powers Ash has makes life harder for him(like it did to Auraline) and he already had enough suffering but as long as the powers will threat him and others it isn’t very likely he’ll smile much.

Dru would find him interesting when she gets over his all over copy of Sebastian looks. Dru was the only one who saw Sebastian besides Emma and Tmi gang and survived. Ash’s smile brought back that memory for Dru but she didn’t remembered it was Sebastian’s.

Also there is that weird travel to Unseelie which is not normally how Eternidad can be used (it was as if the stone wanted Dru to go to Ash maybe to bring him hope in the future). I can tag you to the post if you like to read

But these are all theories off course.

Still them being together and Dru being able to stop Ash if powers blow up is important (I mean she litterally did the same for Jemma in Qoaad). Because Noone can take all that responsibility alone he needs to be loved to be saved and Thule Jace’s love may not be enough to save him….

Now I am putting here some fics and fluff to show what a huge cinnamon roll my son will be:Ash Morgenstern will be greatest cinnamon roll ever and thats a canon :)

https://dru-and-ash.tumblr.com/post/183754216442/its-on-its-way-but-you-need-to-be-patient-i

https://dru-and-ash.tumblr.com/post/184602936937/morgenthorn-first-date

https://dru-and-ash.tumblr.com/post/183194705212/hello-my-favorite-bloggerhow-are-you-i

https://dru-and-ash.tumblr.com/post/183126493882/ash-baby-carstairs

https://dru-and-ash.tumblr.com/post/183547498677/in-city-of-lost-souls-sebastians-room-is-all

I hope you and your friends like them :) :)

#my asks #incorrectherondales #morgenthorn #why do i love this ship so much #why do i ship them #ash morgenstern #dru blackthorn #drusilla blackthorn #my babies

[vagrantblvrd]

Skies So Blue (1/1)

Summary: There’s always a problem when it comes to the crew.

Always.

Said problems range from minor inconveniences like a diet eCola shortage in the penthouse to life-threatening injuries. (Sometimes one leads to the other because the ones with an addiction to the stuff are certifiable, but that’s another problem altogether.)

Notes: An Anon wanted my thoughts on this GTA V video. :D?

(Read on AO3)

There’s always a problem when it comes to the crew.

Always.

Said problems range from minor inconveniences like a diet eCola shortage in the penthouse to life-threatening injuries. (Sometimes one leads to the other because the ones with an addiction to the stuff are certifiable, but that’s another problem altogether.)

The current problem is that Geoff’s out of town for business and he took both Alfredo and Matt, arguably the last two sane members of the crew left besides Trevor himself. And while Trevor is in charge these days, you wouldn’t notice by the way they act.

(Geoff warned him though, when he and Lindsay handed the reins over. Told him all about how they were horrible human beings and, “God have mercy on your soul, because the bastard sure as hell had none for mine,” and left for what he insisted was a long overdue vacation from the crew. Lindsay had laughed as she patted him on the cheek with a “You poor, stupid bastard,” before going off to rain chaos on the unsuspecting now she was free to do so.)

Geoff is out of town, the crew treats Trevor like a substitute teacher in an 80s/early 90s movie, and to make matters worse? It’s been a while since the crew’s pulled a heist or a job that requires more than the bare minimum from them.

They’re bored.

They’re bored and Trevor’s learned that a bored Fake AH Crew is a dangerous Fake AH Crew because they make their own entertainment.

While some good things have come out of their shenanigans in the past – improved team morale for starters – said shenanigans also draw unwanted attention from local law enforcement that’s no good for future plans they may have.

So.

“You...want me to kidnap you.”

Trevor grins, nice and friendly and holds up the wad of cash he’s offering as payment to a fine young gentleman.

New enough to Los Santos that he hasn’t heard (too much) about the Fakes aside from a few key points. (Big crew, don’t fuck with them or you’ll be sorry, yaddah, yaddah, yaddah.)

Hasn’t heard about their more outrageous exploits or what they like to do to blow off steam for their own enrichment. (Pack of idiots rolling a pumpkin around their enclosure and all.)

Most importantly, he’s just stupid enough, greedy enough, to be blinded to the amount of money Trevor’s offering for an afternoon of driving him around.

“Well I mean,” Trevor says, goes a little singsong. “’Kidnap’ is such an ugly word, you know. All these connotations to it. No, no.”

Goodness no.

“I want you to steal a car for me.”

The guy – Frank? Jimmy? Trevor doesn't remember, and if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t care.

See, Trevor asked around, got a short list of potential candidates for this little task that might need a reminder of how things work in Los Santos. A quick little tutorial for the ones new to town like this fine fellow who’s already ruffled a few feathers.

“...The car you will be in,” Lyle? Kyle? says, nice and slow, like he’s solving one of the world’s greatest mysteries. “That one.”

Trevor tips his head to the side.

“If you don’t want to earn some pocket money, I can always find someone else who will,” Trevor says.

Because Los Santos.

Chock full of people like this one.

The guy squints at Trevor.

Big guy. Somewhat imposing, if you happen to be easily imposed. Nose that’s been broken at least once and rough around the edges (aren’t they all, though?). Scruff going on to make him seem older and admirably suspicious because it is an odd request.

“What’s the catch?”

Trevor doesn’t mean to laugh, but he does.

“Oh, you know,” he says, big, big smile. “The usual.”

========

Gerald, Trevor’s going to call him Gerald, takes the offer.

“Sure, why the fuck not?”

It’s a lot of money just to steal a car, and Trevor was reliably informed Gerald would do just about anything for the right price.

Sold a lot of people out for less, or so Trevor’s heard. Has a habit of screwing over his partners and so on and Trevor is delighted the man’s greed has gotten the better of him yet once again. Makes having to send one of the others to pay him a little visit unnecessary later.

Birds and stones, and a delicious touch of karma because some of the people Gerald’s fucked over were theirs and that simply won’t do.

Gerald doesn’t seem to have caught on just yet, but Trevor’s sure he’ll figure it out along the way.

========

There are rules to this, of course.

The others may use any and all vehicles at their disposal, but weapons aren’t allowed.

If, for example, one of them were to get their hands on a Lazer from Zancudo, they’re not allowed to use missiles (homing or otherwise) or the cannons. (If they get their hands on tank, just. No.)

Gerald is likewise forbidden from using weapons. In case he were to get ideas, what with Trevor riding along in the backseat of their vehicle and all. (Trevor’s wearing his favorite clothes and would just hate to get blood on them.)

Other than that, it’s a free-for-all, which in Trevor’s experience always goes smoothly with this bunch.

========

“Oh, my,” Trevor says, watching a Cargobob overshoot them. “That was a close one, wasn’t it.”

Gerald swears, anger and something like panic creeping into his voice and for good reason. The crew is out in force today, Cargobobs overhead and stolen police cars behind. A generous smattering of other stolen vehicles all over the place and they’ve only been at this for twenty, thirty minutes at the outside.

Very dramatic, all of it.

Pulse-pounding adventure and danger. High-speed chases and the car’s engine is making this distressing noise, smoke coming from its engine.

Trevor waves as an SUV goes screaming past, and snaps a picture with his phone – it’s bound to turn out blurry and out of focus, but he’s sure Jeremy will appreciate the thought behind it.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people?” Gerald demands as he puts their poor car in reverse, aiming for a side street they passed. “I mean, seriously. What the fuck?”

Trevor grins and takes a picture of Gerald as he scowls at Trevor in the rearview.

For memories.

“Creative types,” he says, which isn’t stretching the truth at all. The others come up with the most...inventive heists and all sorts of shenanigans. “Wacky.”

========

After the Tank incident several years back, about the time Trevor got dragged into the madness that is the Fake AH Crew, they’re forbidden from bringing a tank into the city.

APCs and the like, however, are not tanks.

“Holy shit,” Gerald whispers, the very image of a broken man. “Holy shit.”

Trevor hmms, and checks to make sure his seat-belt is secure.

“Indeed,” he agrees, and it’s such a shame he ran out of physical room on his phone for videos because their tiny little car facing a line of Brickades is a stunning sight.

Gerald makes this noise in the back of his throat, and Trevor can see the moment he throws all caution to the wind and has his fuck it, what the fuck moment as he puts his foot to the pedal and they shoot forward.

While there are several Brickades present, there aren’t enough to create an effective blockade. More to intimidate than anything else, and Gerald squeezes their car through the narrow gap left open to them with inches to spare. (At least two, possibly three.)

========

There’s a small flock of drones buzzing around them and a Terrorbyte bearing down on them at the other end of the runway. (Not great odds, but Gerald is proving to be quite resourceful or just incredibly lucky.)

“Are those goddamned blimps?”

There’s also a parachute in the air, and by the rainbow pattern it has to be Gavin.

“They’re faster than you’d think,” Trevor says, “and surprisingly maneuverable.”

He smiles, bland little thing, when Gerald gives him an incredulous look.

========

“Why the hell do you people have so many vehicles?”

Trevor glances up from his phone.

“Sorry, what?” he asks, and Gerald repeats himself with a skosh more emphasis this time.

Trevor shrugs, glancing out his window at the freight train they're keeping pace with, occasional flashes of color as the others tries to land on one of the flatcars. They look like dolphins swimming alongside ye olde sailing ships.

Beautiful and graceful even in failure.

They’re being (gently) herded back to Los Santos, although Gerald seems to think he’s still in control of their destination and not the other way around.

“Well I mean,” he says, and shrugs again. “Nice things.”

Shiny, shiny things. Like a kid in a candy store, his crew. See something flashy, shiny and have to have it. Come up with an idea for a heist to get their hands on it or some form of shenanigans or what have you.

Gerald stares at him in the rearview mirror as though he’s realized they’re all a bunch of lunatics.

========

Like all good things, this merry little chase Gerald’s been leading the others must end.

Unlike all good things, it ends with a blockade created with a handy-dandy rocket launcher, several parked cars, and a crashed ultralight as several Cargobobs hover overhead. (They really do love their Cargobobs.)

Also, Ryan hauling poor Gerald out of the driver’s seat where he’s in the process of beating the everloving shit out of him.

Trevor can’t hear whatever Ryan’s telling Gerald as he teaches him a lesson using violence – he’d be a terrible teacher – but he can guess.

Winces as Ryan drags Gerald in for one last doozy of a punch before dropping his unconscious body to the ground, shoulders heaving a little from exertion. Sees Ryan take a moment to compose himself before he makes his way back to the battered car that’s somehow survived the day’s activities.

He unlocks the door and smiles up at Ryan when he wrenches it open like a brute.

“Hello, Ryan,” he says, bright and cheerful. Flattens a hand against his chest and bats his eyes up at the strong, burly man who rescued him from the clutches of the vile kidnapper. Says, with a terrible Southern accent, “My hero.”

Ryan stares at him for a long, long moment, and then he sighs.

All dramatic about it too, the way Geoff gets sometimes as though life is an endless bout of pain and suffering and woe is him, woe is him.

“I hate you,” Ryan says, matter-of-fact, just a simple little declaration.

Trevor smiles.

“I’m sure you do,” he says. Tips his head to the side. “But the real question is, are you still bored?”

There’s a (literal) trail of crashed and ruined vehicles behind them marking the meandering path Gerald took and who knows how much in property damage.

Chaos, panic, and so on. (Par for the course for them.)

Ryan opens his mouth, and pauses.

Unconsciously mirrors Trevor by tipping his head the opposite direction as he considers Trevor’s question. Makes this annoyed sound when he finds his answer.

“...No,” he admits.

Trevor beams at him.

“Well there you go, then!” he says.

The crew had an exciting day and Gerald got his comeuppance for fucking over one of theirs. (Most likely he hasn’t connected the dots, but if he hasn’t there’s always next time.)

“You’re a lunatic,” Ryan says, as though a sane man would be in Trevor’s position with the crew.

Trevor laughs, because yes, but also -

“Thank you, Mr. Vagabond. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Ryan snorts and steps back to let Trevor out of the poor battered car that’s somehow survived everything they threw at it today.

Trevor looks around at the destruction, random people gawking far too close for their own safety. Looks up, and smiles at the Cargobobs circling the area.

The lone Frogger, because Lindsay.

Back down at Ryan who’s got his hand pressed to his earpiece as he talks to the others to let them know Trevor’s “mugger” has been neutralized and Trevor himself is unharmed and so on and so forth.

He feels something a lot like fondness as Ryan keeps shooting him these little looks, giving that up t some point to stand beside him. Shoulder touching Trevor’s because then at least, he’ll have some warning if Trevor slips away to start a bonus round to their little game.

Overhead one of the Cargobobs separates from the pack and looks for a good place to land to ferry them back to the penthouse, and the faint sound of sirens sound in the distance.

Good old LSPD and various emergency services leaping into action now that the Fake AH Crew has finished another one of their games and it’s safe for people to come out to deal with the mess left behind. It’s an odd agreement, understanding, they have, because this kind of game isn’t about body counts the LSPD’s learned it’s better in the long run if the crew get to have their fun.

Trevor laughs at the absurdity of it all because they’re all a little mad here, aren’t they? Keeps things interesting.

“Madman,” Ryan says with a little shake of his head and something like amusement in his voice. “Let’s go home.”

Well, the penthouse, really.

Celebratory drinks, and takeout set to embellished recounting of the day’s adventures. Plans for future rounds with a few tweaks thrown in, and this overall sense of accomplishment on Trevor’s part because the damn pumpkin worked.

#ragehappy #fahc au #Anon #Kings of Nowhere #vagrant fic #can be shippy if you want??? #i'm all for it #\o/ #(also thank you so much anon! XD <333!)

[thou-crusty-batch-of-nature]

'Crawling back to you'

(Do I wanna know? Arctic Monkeys)

A/N: I'm soo sorry it took so long! Hope you'll like it! Thank you for reading (and requesting)! Feel free to send a request or message me! Lysm

Pairing: Harry x reader

Warnings: fluff, angst

Request: Could u do something Harry Potter x reader were the marauders are alive and the reader is Harry’s gf and is as good as Dumbledore in dueling. And she was staying at Harry’s house for spring break and (Harry is still the boi who lived) Voldemort attacks them and says something like “if she wins she dafe but for now I am going to take the most important thing in ur life” to Harry and he starts crying but then she out duels him and comforts Harry and Jily notices how much they love each other?

MASTERLIST

gif not mine

People have always assumed that I have a perfect life: a loving boyfriend, incredible friends, but people often speak without knowing. And I, of all people, knew that. My life has never been pink, I've never had a family, and besides my friends, no one's ever cared for me. I had lived in an orphanage until an old man wearing funny clothes showed up in my room, telling me I'm a wizard; and a very powerful one, too.

My first year at Hogwarts wasn't a piece of cake either. I was a pureblood gryffindor, but I knew nothing about magic. I didn't have any friends and spent my time either in the library or by the lake. The only person I spoke to was my roommate, a very bright witch named Hermione Granger. She'd always helped me when I was down and even introduced me to her group of friends; including Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. At first, we didn't get along well, but as time passed by we became closer than ever, becoming the family I've never had. We were soon known as the troublemakers of Hogwarts. We used to receive howlers from Lily every week, expressing her disappointment, followed by a short note from James, congratulating our brilliant ideas. In the fourth year, Harry and I went together to the Yule ball, and soon after that, we became a couple.

***

I looked again in the mirror. I was wearing a long-sleeved gown, with grey lace embroidered and a deep decolletage. My long Y/H/C hair fell in a waterfall of loose curls on my bare back.

"Oh my God! You look stunning. Harry won't be able to keep his eyes off you." Hermione said.

"Look who's talking. You're literally glowing!" And she was. Wearing a baby blue dress, she could be easily mistaken for a princess.

"Thank you! Shall we go?" Nodding, I took my best friend's hand. We went down the stairs, careful not to trip. 'These bloody shoes better not make me fall!' The common room was awfully quiet, as almost everybody was already in the great hall.

I was more than excited when Harry asked me to be his partner. I had a crush on him since the beginning of the third year. When we got downstairs he was nervously leaning back and forth, facing the dimly burning fire.

"Hello, Harry!" Hermione greeted happily. He quickly turned his head towards us, mouth falling open while his eyes wandered over my dress.

"Hi-" he said in a squeaky voice. "You-you look gorgeous."

***

Then Voldemort came back. Our life became darker and darker, and since the battle at the department of mysteries, he had been trying to recruit as many wizards as possible. Harry was in incredible danger as the chosen one, and I, because of my power, was the number one in the death eater's list.

I woke up breathing heavily, my hand around my neck. I was used to having this nightmare; I was alone in a dark room, chained, and Voldemort was torturing me in order to become one of them. I woke up seeing the blinding ray of green light, followed by his malicious laugh.

'I am safe. I am safe.' I opened my eyes only to see Harry's panicked face.

"What happened?" I usually spent my holidays at the Potters, who took me as their daughter. I owed them everything.

"You were screaming. I thought that-"

"It's ok. I had a bad dream." Harry sat next to me, hugging my warmly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, grazing your back.

I turned to see his mesmerizing eyes, losing myself in the spring grass colour. "Not really." I whispered. We kissed like we were afraid of breaking each other.

***

"I told you they love each other!" Lily said, nudging James under the invisibility cloak.

"They are just how we were! He takes after me, so hopelessly in love!"

"At least he managed to take her out! You were so nervous when you first attempted to ask me on a date that I thought you would faint!"

James pinched her nose. "Yes, but look at us now!"

***

"Good morning everybody!" I'd just got in the kitchen, where Lily and Harry were having breakfast.

"Good morning darling!" Lily greeted.

"Morning!" Harry said, kissing my cheek. I filled my plate with scrambled eggs and sat down.

"So what are you cool teens up to these wonderful days?" Lily asked, making Harry sigh.

"Mum, stop. And if you asked, I would love to go for a walk with Y/N." He turned to me. "What do you say?"

"It sounds great!"

The diffuse sunlight painted the morning sky. The shy rays were playing on the fields of flowers, slowly drawing patterns on the spring's colourful mantle. We were walking down a narrow path through the forest. The comfortable silence was suddenly interrupted. Harry fell on his knees, letting go of my hand.

"He's here! He's after us!" Harry shouted, "We have to leave now!"

We bolted without looking bavk. I knew he was here; I could feel it. One could call it instinct, I preferred the term fear. Then, the veil of darkness hit us.

***

I slowly opened my eyes. My scar hurt so much that it made me feel dizzy. We were in a spacious room, made entirely of stone.

"Y/N!" I whispered, slowly shaking her. She was lying next to me, eyes barely open."Y/N! Please!"

"Look what a prize we've got here!" a high pitch voice called. "A small bird told me you two were walking happily through the forest! What a pure coincidence that the Dark Lord had a free day!"

"Bellatrix, stop with your boring talk, bring them to me!" Voldemort was sitting on a dark wood chair, his red eyes burning holes through me. Nagini was swirling on his hand. "Harry Potter and Y/N Y/L/N! The chosen one and the girl who is told to be my only worthy opponent! Let's see who is the best after all!"

"Leave her alone!" I shouted.

"Oh how brave are you! You almost convinced me! But I really want to play," he paused to look at us, "I challenge you," he pointed at Y/N "if you win, you and your loved ones are safe, but if you don't, you'll both lose the most important persons in your life. Do you accept?"

"No!" I said.

***

"Yes, I do," I said at the same time as Harry. Voldemort's eyes were locked on me as a wild smirk grew wide on his face. Bellatrix laughed maniacally, throwing my wand.

"Then we shall start."

"One." The death eater started.

"Two." I took a careful step.

"Three." I glanced at Harry, his horrified face following my gaze.

"Four." I could hear the Dark Lord's laugh.

"Five." His voice was sending shivers down my spine.

"Six." I silently stepped forward.

"Seven." My heart was threatening to jump from my body.

"Eight." My hands were shaking violently.

"Nine." I took a deep breath.

"Ten." We turned.

The duel started.

***

The battle was one of the most impressive I've ever seen. Spell after spell, dodge after dodge, Y/N held her head high, not even budging in front of her opponent. Light against darkness, fire against water, good against bad.

And it was far from over.

***

I was barely keeping my breath steady. Exhaustion was threatening to take over me, but I couldn't stop; I needed to win. Voldemort marched closer, creating a dragon of darkness. 'Shit.' Its black wings spread, and the majestical creature flew to me. It looked like Death. I cast a enormous fire Phoenix. It's battle cry shook the entire manor. The creatures collided, exploding.

"Expeliarmus!" I yelled.

"Abracadabra!" I managed to cast a shield over me in time. However, my spell hit the Dark Lord, the impact throwing him on his back. I caught his wand and disarmed the other death eaters, too. Just then, the order of Phoenix apparated in the room. I fell to my knees. Harry ran to me, pulling me in a bone crushing hug. I don't know when I've started crying, nor when he did. It didn't matter. It was over.

All was going to be well.

Taglist: @futurewriter2000 @puppycat714 @booksbeforebois

#harry potter #harry x reader #voldemort #lily potter #james potter #gryffindor #slytherin #hufflepuff #ravenclaw #hermione granger #ron weasley #hogwarts

[sduswdnd]

Campaign 1 Part 3

From part 2

When last we left our adventurers, they’d delivered their wagon of crap and explored the town.  They were told that an old 90s band were terrorizing the masses and decided to help.  They also were recruited into three other money making schemes and were asked to help Orlando Bloom find the man that ghosted him on Druidr.  After scoping out the hideout, they decide to enter it under disguise.  After freeing prisoners, they encounter the Rancor, who just wants to run away.  They spot a cracked out rat and follow it to the missing wizard, Knowing he’d been found out, he starts to spill his guts about the whole crafty tale.  He and a guy named the Black Spider, who wanted to steal the Wokscraper brothers’ timeshare.  They finish looting- I mean clearing the ruins before heading back to town.  

Part 3

“Hello!  Hello?  Is it over yet?”  Korrin comes wandering in with a full flask of whiskey and a five-foot frozen lemonade.  “Hello?”  He wanders into the ruins, looking around.  He spots a body in the crevasse.  “Hope I didn’t know that guy…”

“You didn’t.”  Baze stows his blades and looks down at the body.  He notices something sparkly down in the darkness and says, “Shiny!” and jumps down into the crevasse.  

Silvan says, “Shiny?” and jumps in too.

Korrin starts to say, “Maybe check forrr not…”

“Hey guys!  It’s a shiny!  And it’s stuck in the wall!”

Gerrol looks at the rancor (whose name is Roger).  “Well, you’ve seen these guys.  They’re gonna go ‘Link’ on this whole place and crack open everything that moves.”

Roger says, “No, I’ll never get my security deposit back.  Just take what you want, but get the hell out!”

Teiris looks around, noticing a censor bar near Iarno’s quarters.  “Hey, what’s behind here?

Korrin touches his holy symbol, then moves his hands, drawing mysterious sigils in the air.  The gold glyphs shimmer in the cold air then flash, seeking the obscured area, fluttering as the energy charges and darts into the darkness, then back to Korrin, circling him before compacting together, then exploding like tiny fireworks.    

Korrin looks at Teiris.  “Porn.”

Capt looks around wizard quarters, puts her right hand in the boxes, pulls her right hand out, puts her right hand in and shakes it all about.  The rest of the group is compelled by copyright to do the hokey pokey and turn themselves about.  

Because that is actually what it’s all about.

“Found some sparkly things!

Baze looks at the sparklies, and a strange look comes over him.  “A glassy, translucent stone, Carnelian is an orange-colored variety of Chalcedony, a mineral of the Quartz family. Its color varies from pale pinkish-orange to a deep rusty brown, though it is most known for its brilliant orange and red-orange crystals. Its name comes from a Latin word meaning "flesh."  In antiquity, as well as today, Carnelian is believed to help timid speakers become both eloquent and bold. Ancient Warriors wore Carnelian around their neck for courage and physical power to conquer their enemies.”

“So you’re saying they’re valuable?”

“Dibs!”

The last loot box is found and opened, and back to town they go.

~~~~****~~~~

Silvanhost and Gerrol drag Iarno to the town hall, leading the rest of the group.  Sildar looks up, shock and surprise on his face.  “You’re alive…” he breathes softly.

Iarno looks sheepishly at Sildar.  “Hey, bae…”

Sildar struts up to him and, with a silver gauntleted hand, strikes him, yelling as he strikes:

“WHO (SLAP) THE FUCK (SLAP) ARE YOU (SLAP) TO GHOST (SLAP) ME, BITCH (SLAP)!”

Mirea and Teiris snap in Z formation.  “UM HMM!”

Sil and Gerrol hiss, “Daaaaaammmnnnn…”

Sildar grabs his collar and starts to drag him off.  Iarno starts to stammer, “Bae, I can explain…”

Sildar cuts him off.  “Don’t you ‘bae’ me.  I found your Druidr profile, Mister Glasscock.  Ain’t nothin needs explainin…”

Sildar then looks at our heroes.  “This fool has a lot to answer for.  I have to take him back to his homies, but we still need to find Clockwatcher.  I can tell you he was taken by this idiot and a Drow called the Black Spider.  If you wait for me to take care of him, I can help you get Rackstuffer.”

Our heroes look at each other.  Maik and Baze fistbump.  “It’s whiskey and wench time!”

~~~~~***~~~~~

The next morning, our heroes check their messages with the front desk clerk.  Mirea had to get her armor mended.   She threatens bodily harm if we storm the castle without her.

Traxion pulled a muscle posing for AQ.  He’d be laid up for a few days but wanted to get his headshots done at the castle too, so don’t leave without him.

The group gathered up in the common room for breakfast.  “So, no Pockmarker today.”

“No Sockwalker.”

“So whaddayawannado?”

“Didn’t those folks that we rescued offer us cash or something?”   The group stare at each other, then scramble out of the inn.

Several minutes later, they’re in front of Nards’ home.

[Editor’s note:   Nards?]

[Author’s note:  That’s what the notes say.]

[Editor’s note:   Did they hate their kid?]

[Author’s note:  eh]

In front of the home, the young man comes to the door.  “Oh, no, we didn’t actually have any money, but if you check out our storage unit, you can have whatever looks good.  I think there was some jewelry and stuff.”  Discouraged, they leave. 

Back at the inn, everyone is draped all over the common room.  

“BORED….” says Gerrol.

“We told them we’d wait to storm the castle.”

Maik repeats, “BORED…”

Korrin looks up from sharpening his blades.  “Weren’t there orcs we were supposed to beat up?”

Everyone looks at Korrin, then to each other, then scramble out the door.

~~~*~~~~

Our heroes head east for several hours.  

“Are we there yet?”

Korrin hisses, “If you don’t stop, so help me I’ll turn this party around.”

Baze looks around and points.  “Do trees grow sideways?”

They all look at him, then to the area he’s pointing to.  There were trampled trees, dried grass, and a large green screen.  

“That doesn’t look suspicious at all,” says Gerrol.  “But let’s poke it with a stick.”  He and Baze make their way to the screen and poke at it.  It falls over, revealing a small cave opening.  “Hey guys…”

Suddenly, somewhere, the battle music starts.  

They discover a lone orc at a watch post.  Baze quickly dashes behind a nearby sunflower.  “Stealth!” he shouts at the orc, who spots him, confused.  Its confusion was more than enough to give Baze a moment to take it out.   He ded.  They hide the body under the green screen and enter the cave.  

Heading into the cave, they realize caves are dark.  “Who has dark vision?”  Three of them raise their hands.  “Cool,” Baze says, attaching an LED lantern to his head, effectively blinding the other three.  Deeper into the cave, they came across another familiar scent. 

[Editor’s note:  Waffles again?]

[Author’s note:  That’s what it says.]

[Editor’s note: Is this going to be a thing?]

The scent of waffles filled the air as they round the corner.  The brunch bar was in full swing.  Several orcs were in line for fresh waffles, while others loaded up on the free mimosas.  Two orcs see new arrivals and break away from the line. 

“Hey, you!  This is for card holders only.  Did you show your players club card at the door?”

Gerrol pats his clothes.  “Yes, I have it right… HERE!” he says as he shanks the first orc and joins the one-shot club.

The second orc looks yells, “Hey, I don’t think you guys are members!”  

Baze yells, “Stealth!” and hides behind the yogurt machine.  He then dashes out, slips on the spilled sprinkles and misses his strike.

Silvenhost comes up and yells, “No cuts!” as he slices the orc once, twice, three and down.

Another orc comes up to the yogurt machine, angry that it wasn’t working.  He turns his anger to our heroes.  Cap responds with an arrow.  Teiris tries to help, but breaks her bowstring.  Maik casts entangle, and ties up the rest of the orcs charging them.  

The two floor bosses come up, one of them a large one with a nametag reading “Axebiter-Manager.”  Korrin charges the manager, but gets hurt in the process.  He says he’s gonna heal himself.  Silvenhost whispers, “Touch yourself… slowly.”  They both recover hit points.

Teiris notices orcs going to the buffet with dirty plates.  She yells, “YOU NEED TO USE A CLEAN PLATE EVERY TIME YOU RETURN TO THE BUFFET, YOU BLOUSE WEARING POODLE WALKERS!”  The orcs in the area are stunned and embarrassed, shuffling away.

Maik preps to attack but hears Korrin moaning behind the party.  He goes to heal him, “You may feel some discomfort…”

“That’s what she said!”

Silvan and Teiris notice one orc trying to call security.  They intercept him.  Teiris breaks another bowstring.  Silvan snorts at her, then strikes the orc, taking him out. 

Finally, it’s just our heroes and the manager.  Axebiter starts swinging wild.  Cap and Silvanhost keep swinging at him.  Teiris tries to diffuse the situation with a joke:

“What’s the difference between a dirty trolley stop and a lobster with breast implants?  One's a crusty bus station, and the other's a busty crustacean.”

** crickets **

“You guys suck!”

The battle continues.  Everyone flails ridiculously, setting the salad bar on fire and destroying the yogurt machine, and but finally the battle is won.  Silvan lops the head off the last orc and ties it to his belt.

“That’s a bold fashion statement.”  Silvan twirls, then smiles.

They get back to the mayor, and the orc head gets tossed to the floor.  The Mayor screams,  tosses his cookies, and passes out.  When he awakes to everyone staring at him.

“Please don’t tell anyone I passed out, and I’ll give you 400 gold instead of 200…”

They all agree and head to the pub.  Cap gets sauced and says, “Bard!  Entertain us with a song!”

Teiris is happy to comply:

How does a bastard, orphan son of a human  and an elf, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot by the imperium By providence, impoverished, in squalor, grow up to be a hero and a scholar?

With ten gold he set out, leaving his father, got a lot stronger by working a lot harder, by being a lot smarter By being a self-starter, then Rockseeker placed him in charge of an escort charter

And everyday while gold was being taken and carted away Across the fields, he struggled and kept his guard up Inside he was longing for something to be a part of The brother was ready to beg, steal, borrow or barter

Then a zaratan came, and devastation reigned Our man saw his future drip, dripping down the drain Put his sword in his satchel, connected his belt around And he killed his enemy, the ones that could be found Well the word got around, they said "This dude is insane, man!" Took up a collection just to send him to the main man "Get your education, don't forget from whence you came And the world's gonna know your name. What's your name man?"

Traxion the Paladin My name is Traxion the Paladin And there's a million things I haven't done But just you wait, just you wait…

And the pub goes wild.  

The next morning, they go shopping.  Maik finds a mysterious set of runestones and is drawn to touch them.

“Dude, if you touch them, you have to rub them.”

Maik backs away.

Somewhere, the Ghostbuster theme starts.  They head off to see the banshee.

On the road, an unusual feeling comes over the group.  They look out and see four wolves coming closer.  

Maik says, “I got this.”  He turns into a wolf, sits down and starts licking himself.  

“Now is not the time!” yells Cap.

Maik whines then goes to one of the wolves. They start sniffing each other, making friends.  The second wolf doesn’t want to feel left out and wanders over, joining the sniffing parade.  

Teiris shakes her head and casting Thaumaturgy, causes a small earthquake, scaring off the other two wolves and lowering property values on the coast.  Yay!  No blood, no report!

Off to Aggies!  Maik starts running, dodging Silvanhost’s attempt to hop on his back.  He does allow Baze to hop on and away they go.

[Editor’s note: What’s with Baze always wanting to ride Maik?]

Cap yells, “Don’t kill anything until we get there!”

Soon, they get to Aggies.  Baze wanders inside, begins getting hosed by the spirit.  Silvanhost cuts in, speaking in Elvish.  Gerrol starts translating for the group:

Silvanhost:  So… you come here often?

Aggie:  giggles in Elvish

Silvanhost:  (holds out comb)  I think you left this on my bedroom floor last time…

Aggie:  giggles more in Elvish

This goes on a few minutes longer, and they get the location of the book the sister needs.  Back to the town they go!

[Editor’s note: Well, that was anticlimactic.]

[Author’s Note: Yeah, but to be honest, if they had to fight a ghost, it would probably be a TPK.]

[Editor’s note:  That’s fair.]

Back in town, Teiris, Silvanhost, and Gerrol return to the temple.  The Sister bustles up excitedly.  

“Did you get it?” she asks.

 “Yep…”

She jumps with glee.  “Thank you so much, have some red bull!”  She eyes them carefully.  “Have you ever considered Scien… I mean the Harpers…”

Next up:  All together now…

[wingsofanillyrian]

Kingdoms and Crowns (Marecal)

@spegetty asked “ hey could you use the prompt “There’s no future for me without you.” for marecal PLeASe “ and OFC I SAID YES so please enjoy and send me more Red Queen prompts!

I should also mention that at this point in time I have not finished WS, so I apologize for any plot inconsistency :)

ACOTAR/TOG Masterlists

Cruel Prince Masterlist

Red Queen Masterlist (more to come!)

If I had it my way, I wouldn’t be here right now.

I hate these endless council sessions. They’ve become hunting grounds, each side out for the others blood. Its pointless. Dredging up past grievances does nothing to further anyone’s cause; it only adds fuel to the fire.

The weight of Silver gazes are nearly as oppressive as Silent Stone. They refuse to accept that Red blooded people sit at the same table they do, that our decisions have sway with the king. I sit straighter in my seat, meeting each House’s stare in turn. I refuse to let my unease show.

I watch the clock, its hands ticking merrily away. Two minutes until the battle begins.

“Why am I not surprised that his Majesty and House Samos are late yet again?”

I glance up at Farley, grateful for her arrival. The lack of Reds in the gathering hall had every one of my nerves on end. Farley and I are the only Red-blooded representatives that have a permanent seat at the negotiations table. The Scarlet Guard uniform she wears dares the king’s council to forget who sits among them.

“Probably because this happens every time.”

As soon as I’ve finished speaking, the arched wooden doors at the end of the room swing open, allowing Evangeline Samos to stride in. The sharp smile she cuts the Silver side of the table is more than enough to make them squirm. The armor she’s clothed herself in is as magnificent as it is deadly. Metallic scales flash across her torso as she stalks for me, giving a sly wave.

“Hello Mare,” she drawls, sliding into the empty seat beside me.

“You certainly enjoy making grand entrances, don’t you?” Although our alliance is uneasy, I’m glad it’s her next to me instead of a member of any other House. Evangeline I can tolerate for a little while at least.

A low, innocent laugh as she brushes her silver hair off her shoulder. “You know me so well.”

“Where’s the rest of your House?”

She smiles, letting everyone wait for her answer. Flicking her eyes around the table she says, “Father sends his regrets, but he won’t be able to attend. You’re stuck with little old me.” She shrugs, reclining with feline grace.

“I can’t say that upsets me.”

Attention snaps to the head of the table. Tiberias has managed to sneak in without anyone noticing. I curse myself for letting him catch me off guard.

Anabel Lerolan is a step behind her grandson, surveying those assembled with predatory intent. Tiberias’ black hair is shaggy and unkempt as if he couldn’t be bothered to comb it. The fitted suit he wears, black with red trim around the cuffs, does little to offset the shadows lingering under his eyes. I wonder if he’s been sleeping well.

Not that I care, I remind myself sharply.

The others fall over themselves, standing and offering a greeting to their king. Everyone except Farley and I, that is. We remain seated, a decision that Anabel notes with a glare.

“Now then, let’s get this underway, shall we?” Tiberias gives a tight smile before taking his seat. My eyes dip to where the top button of his shirt is undone, revealing a sliver of the toned chest I know lies beneath. Once, I was free to run my fingertips over his warm skin whenever I pleased. The memory of knobby white scars and hard muscle makes my hands tingle.

Farley elbows my side, giving me a hard look. I tear my eyes away from the king and pull my thoughts back to this room. I brace myself for another endless day filled with talks of taxes and basic human rights for Reds- something that should already be accepted.

My head fills with static as soon as Anabel begins reading through the day’s agenda. Usually I can focus enough to participate, but today I’m lost in the way Tiberias’ mouth curves when he speaks. I don’t tune back into the conversation until Farley slams her hand on the table.

“Our goal isn’t to overthrow the entire Silver monarchy.” I stifle a cough at the boldfaced lie. She cuts a glare at me before continuing, “We want Reds and Silvers to live peacefully as equals. We’ve already seen it work in Piedmont-“

The hall erupts as everyone speaks at once. My gaze flicks to where Cal- no, Tiberias- sits at the head of the long, narrow table. His eyes are locked on me, waiting for my reaction. Instinct demands I look anywhere but at him. I do the opposite, standing my ground until he eventually breaks the stare.

One voice rises above the others, commanding attention. “I think I’ve found a solution that suits all our interests,” the king says, rising from his seat. The noise Evangeline makes informs me that Tiberias is speaking directly at me, whether he realizes it or not.

“I always keep the needs of my people close to my heart.” This time, I don’t hold in my noise of disgust. Farley nods in agreement. Tiberias continues as if he hasn’t heard me. “Which is why I’ve decided that, effective immediately, my betrothal to Evangeline will end immediately.”

“Finally,” Evangeline mutters, grinning wickedly. No one spares her a glance; they all know how much she loathed the decision. Her heart lies elsewhere, anyway. For perhaps the first time, I truly envy the magnetron. With any luck, she may be able to follow her wishes and be with the one she loves.

Anabel’s bronze eyes flash with fury. Clearly, she was not included in his plotting. “And whom, pray tell, do you suggest you wed?”

Dread fills my stomach. I already know what he’ll say, but I pray he has the good sense not to. My pulse hammers as Tiberias looks around the room, the picture of confidence. He meets everyone’s eyes—except mine.

“Mare will be my queen.”

The world falls out from under my feet.

No one says a single word, not even his wicked grandmother. They must think it’s some sick joke. I think it is too.

A long time ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated to agree. Back when I was foolish and blind, nothing but a lovesick puppy. I would have followed Cal to the ends of the earth if he’d asked.

But that was then.  This is now.

I hone the sparks of my anger into a single bolt, internally directing it at him. Slowly, I turn to him, eyes blazing. He fidgets nervously with the thin metal bracelet at his wrist. I let the uneasy quiet seep into his bones before murmuring, “You want to repeat that, Calore?”

He clears his throat, squirming like an ant under my magnifying glass. “It would be a much better match politically-“

The dagger leaves my hand faster than anyone can process, slicing along his cheekbone. Tiberias’ startled cry echoes in the silent room, hand jerking to the shallow wound. Electricity crackles on my skin as the royal guard rushes me.

They are instantly stopped by the hand their king holds up. “Wait.”

My eyes track the thin line of silver trailing down his jaw. It drips onto the table, nearly in sync with my pulse. I absently remember a time years ago, when Kilorn fell and cut his chin open on a stone by the river. He’d bled buckets, and I had panicked. Don’t worry, he’d told me. Facial wounds bleed a lot.

“Mare?”

Tiberias’ confused whisper jerks me from the memory. My chair scrapes against the white marble as I push back from the table. “How’s that for politics?”

Anabel’s demands for my head follow me out of the room and into the hall beyond. My abrupt departure seems to have pierced her shock.

How dare he?

A political match. That’s what he called a potential marriage between us, in front of all those people. Though he cast me aside months ago, the pain of this most recent betrayal festers like an infected wound. How he has the audacity to act like I mean absolutely nothing to him, I have no idea.

And to completely blindside me with the announcement. He hadn’t even posed it as a question; he just assumed I’d agree. Assumed I was still young and naïve.

He was dead wrong.

I quicken my pace as footsteps echo behind me. “Mare, wait! Please, let me speak.”

I whirl around, nearly causing him to crash into me. “I have no interest in anything you have to say,” I spit out, lip curling. “You have no right to speak to me anymore, Tiberias.”

“I thought it’s what you would have wanted-“

“So you thought it would be perfectly okay to decide my entire life for me?” My voice rises, along with my emotions. “Who gave you the damned right? In what world did you ever think that I would agree to a betrothal to you without ever discussing it? After all I’ve suffered, everything I’ve endured, why would I want that choice ripped from my hands?”

His face sags. “There was a time you would’ve leapt for joy if I proposed.”

“We said never again, Tiberias. That night was to be the last of it.” My stomach flips as the memory of that stolen night comes flooding back. I do my best to reign in my temper, steadying my voice. “You’re just a spoiled child and I’m the shiny toy you just can’t live without.”

He flinches, my insult cutting deep. “That’s not true,” he whispers, but the pain etched in the lines of his face says otherwise. “I love you.”

My hands tremble as I curl them into fists so tight my knuckles turn white. “Liar. I gave you a choice. Me or the crown. I think you’ve made your decision quite clear. It’s as simple as that.”

“It’s not that simple, can’t you see?” The temperature rises a few degrees as he draws nearer, tears pricking his eyes. I almost believe they’re real. “There’s no future for me without you.”

The part of me that is still foolishly in love with him strains towards those words, lapping them up like honey. The wiser part of me knows that Calore men have an outstanding track record for hurting the ones they claim to love.

I should walk away. But I am desperate for answers, if only so I can finally let this chapter of my life turn to ash. My resolve weakens, tears blurring my vision. I drop my gaze to the floor, praying he won’t notice.

“Then how could you cast what we have aside so easily?”

Tiberias’ toes edge into my line of sight. “Why did you make me choose, Mare?” When he reaches up to brush his thumb over my jaw, I don’t stop him. I cherish the affection even though I know I should push him away. “Why can’t I have both?”

My eyes rise to the silver streak on his cheek. The blood that divides us. The blood of nobles.

“That’s why,” I whisper, smiling sadly. “No one would ever accept a Red queen and a Silver king. The Scarlet Guard fights for equality, but I think we both know that won’t ever happen- not completely. You could call me your queen, but all it would ever be is a title. I’d never be your true equal. And… I can’t keep living a lie. I won’t waste my entire life pretending to be happy when I’m not.”

Cal’s lip trembles, and I know he’s fighting to keep himself from falling apart. I draw a wavering breath and continue, “So you can’t have both. You have to choose- and whatever you decide will be final. I won’t put myself through this again.”

“And what if I can’t decide?”

Any hope I have is lost. I was a fool to think he still cared for me at all. “Then I’ll decide for you.” He grabs my wrist before I can turn away, a question in his eyes. My breath catches in my throat.

His lips meet mine in a feverous, needy kiss. I fist my hands in the black silk of his shirt, desperate for more. I melt against him, the curves of our bodies fitting together perfectly.

The sweep of his tongue over mine tells me he truly does still love me and he’ll never leave. His fingers digging into the flesh of my hips tell me he never wants to be apart again. The saltwater on my cheeks tells him I never want him to let me go. I thread my fingers in his hair, tugging him closer, closer, closer. For a moment, I lose myself in him. I can imagine that it’s just the two of us and that’s all there will ever be. No war, no blood feud, no one to come between us.

Then the brush of metal against my brow mocks me, jarring me back to reality. It reminds me why I cannot give myself to him. We can never exist in tandem, his crown and I. Our chests heave as I break the kiss, lips tingling. I step from his embrace, watching his hands curl around my ghost. His bronze eyes shimmer with hurt.

“Have you decided?”

The brittle silence fills the space with dread. Each second he doesn’t speak drives another nail into what’s left of my heart. His mouth gapes open, then closes again. I should have known this was coming.

“Give me until tomorrow to think.” His fingers brush my arm. “I need to sort out my thoughts-“

“Save it.” I shove him away, letting the sparks gathering in my palms burn against his chest. Furious with both him and myself, I quickly put as much distance between us as I can.

A thin blue line of flame stretches across the hall, halting me in my tracks. My lightning rises in response to the challenge. “Cal.”

“Always one for drama.” I want to kiss that damned smirk in his voice away. “Can you at least wait to storm off until I’ve finished talking?”

“Fine.” I cross my arms but refuse to look at him.

“What I was going to say,” he starts quietly, extinguishing the flame now that he’s confident I won’t flee, “was that I need time to decide how to tell my council that I want to step down.”

I glance back at him. “Step down?”

Tiberias gently grasps my hand, tugging until I face him fully. “It’s always been you, Mare. I was a fool to let you slip away. Now I know that I can’t live without you. Since you left, I can’t sleep, I barely eat. I wake up reaching for you every morning. When I think about the future, you’re always there.”

“And your crown?”

With light, careful fingers, he takes it from his head and admires the intricate handiwork. It is beautiful, not even I can deny that. Thin ropes of shimmering copper and strong iron twist over each other to form a thick woven band. Much more ornate than the raw iron one he wore when he was first crowned. His lips twitch in the faintest of smiles before he flicks his wrist, igniting a white-hot flame. The crown hisses and pops, turning a searing red.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, watching molten beads of metal drip to the floor, where they sizzle against the plush carpet like eggs in a frying pan.

“It’s just a useless hunk of metal.” He shrugs. “I’d rather have you.”

My mind is a whirlwind. I don’t know what to think. I’ve waited forever to hear him say those exact words, played the scenario out a million times in my head. I’d fold into his arms, sobbing because I was finally enough, he chose me, he chose me, he chose me. I’d kiss him again and again, determined to never let him slip away.

It hits me then. I’ve been using Cal’s betrayal as an excuse to cover up what I know is the truth. I cannot continue to pretend that it was solely his choice that keeps us apart. He alone cannot bear the blame.

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” Hurt and confusion war in Cal’s beautiful face. The face that haunted my dreams for months, just out of reach. My chest feels hollow.

“I can’t do this- us.” I allow myself the small comfort of touching three fingers to the back of his hand. For once, he is cold. “Who will rule if you step down, Cal? Another Silver noble will step up to take your place and we’ll be right back where we started. Or worse, we’ll lose what little progress we’ve made. We can’t be together, no matter how much we want to be.”

He shakes his head, desperately clasping my hand. “No. Please, no. We can figure it out. I don’t have to do it right away, we can dissolve the monarchy and put a real government in place-“

“That could take years. Time we don’t have. My people are suffering- I have to do something tangible to help.” Gently, I remove my hand from his vicelike grip.

“And we aren’t right for each other. We both may burn, but for different reasons. Fire and lighting are made to destroy. They cannot coexist in a peaceful world.” With every word, I shatter a bit more. As much as I want to engulf myself in the warmth of his arms, I know it’s the wrong choice.

I almost lose my nerve when his Majesty, King Tiberias Calore VII, rightful Flame of the North, falls to his knees, tangles his fingers in my pants and begs. “Mare, please. I love you. I’m willing to give up everything I was meant for, turn my life around for you.”

I shake my head, tears splashing to the carpet. I know that there is no coming back from this. Once I walk away, I turn the page on this chapter of my life. I turn my back on the truest love anyone has ever been privileged to receive. If I do this, I leave Cal behind forever.

“Get up, Tiberias. Kings don’t kneel.”

@queenlannisterofthesevenkindoms @allthestarswecansee @drowningarchangel @wolffrising @photofeesh @maddieimhot @sierrakmalian65 @livy1195 @devitameatball @stellalanelovesyou @trashy-not-sassy @sunsummoner @lightword-g @oooohkinky @dressedindustandshadows @tntwme @elide-lochan-salvaterre @dreams-of-feysand @choosemarecal @awesomethreedragons @coolbooklover1234 @nxyatr @charactercreationgirl

#red queen #rq #glass sword #gs #kings cage #kc #war storm #ws #red queen fanfic #mare barrow #cal calore #tiberias calore #marecal #marecal fanfiction #evangeline samos #scarlet guard #victoria aveyard

[lordberenger]

state of mind

Or: the modern, ex-boyfriends AU no one asked for, ever

read on ao3

Laurent shouldn’t have come.

He knew this the moment he stepped through the door. He took a second to be bitter about it, then he corrected himself: he had known he would spend a horrible night the moment he chose to put on a tux and climb into his car. Denial was not going to get him through the evening.

The Marlas Hall was an impressive building, allying the golden varnish of the expensive and well-conserved with the bluntness of the old. The gardens were particularly noteworthy, full of wide trees and cleverly half-hidden ruins. People raved about finding millennium-old stones in the middle of their evening strolls, but failed to realize the trees were often even older.

The gardens were tempting, yes. Laurent could smell the perfume of early-summer flowers and feel the breeze on his face through the open french doors leading out, but he refrained himself. This was a charity event thrown by his own brother: he had to socialize and charm the room into parting with a few of the superfluous zeros in their bank account.

Still, he couldn’t banish the feeling of dread pooling low in his stomach as he stepped through the room, darting furtive looks right and left. But what was the point? Was he trying to locate or avoid?

Auguste snagged him by the arm before he could finish that thought.

“Laurent,” he said with forced cheer. “I’m so glad to see you. Thank you for coming.” He squeezed Laurent’s biceps a little tighter. Laurent didn’t know who he was trying to convince. “Um, Vannes is here.”

“I hope you’re more eloquent in your speech,” Laurent said, shaking off Auguste’s almost painful grip.

“What?”

“Tell me what you have to tell me and go. You have a party to host.”

Auguste’s eyebrows drew together. “I have the right to be concerned for my little brother’s—”

“Oh, so we’re concerned, now?”

A pause. Auguste looked at him with his clear blue eyes and sighed.

“You know, don’t you?”

“The name’s hard to miss.”

It was right there at the top of the invitation list. No one would see it other than Auguste, Laurent, and the affected staff, but that was enough.

Damianos Akielos.

The name didn’t haunt Laurent. He felt unease and excessive annoyance, but he knew he could get through the evening. He didn’t have a choice. Or maybe he did: maybe Auguste would give him one, out of brotherly affection and concern, and ask him later for a favor that Laurent would be too happy to fulfill. But Laurent hadn’t made it this far in life without an iron spine and a stronger discipline: he would see the night through.

Ex or no ex present.

Who had dumped him. Or would have, had tried to, before Laurent did it first, out of pride and self-respect.

“Laurent,” Auguste started.

“I’m fine.” He was a little surprised to find it true. “I won’t talk to him, though.”

“He might want to talk to you.”

This was probably a plea to be civil. It missed its mark by a hundred feet.

“I doubt it,” Laurent said, and turned away to greet the newest arrival of guests.

He did. In securing his pride, Laurent might not have stopped to preserve Damianos’s. That was what the “I’ll never see him again” part of the plan was for.

Damianos didn’t enter until the gala had started in full. Laurent noticed the kind of commotion near the door that announced a new arrival: the steward drawing people forward, the customary stop on the threshold to gauge the room and let people gawk, should they need to—and it was almost always assumed that they did.

Laurent slipped behind a large group of people dressed as severe as he was and tried to will the light off his pale hair. He thought he was making a decent job at pretending to consider the paté hors d’oeuvre when Jord’s voice grunted from behind him.

“I’ll punch him back to Ios.”

Jord was much less conspicuous in his staring than Laurent, although he was wearing a simple black suit that marked him without subtlety as a bodyguard and was thus invisible to most of the people milling around.

“Please don’t,” Laurent said.

Jord grunted again. It could have meant anything from a disregard of Laurent’s words to reluctant agreement: knowing Jord, it was most likely a mix of everything in between.

Laurent took a flute from a nearby tray. “Is that apple cider or champagne?”

Jord shrugged. “Drink and find out.”

That was the method Laurent usually preferred to avoid. He took a careful sip, though, and almost recoiled when the tart taste of alcohol hit his tongue. Laurent didn’t drink: he liked neither the taste nor the effects. Tonight, though, in the shadow of Damianos's large back, the idea was more tempting than it had ever been.

“That’s not apple cider,” Jord warned next to him, as though Laurent had missed it after his first taste.

“I know.”

Jord eyed him for a moment with the easiness of a man who had seen Laurent grow up and suffered through his teenage moods. He shrugged then: Laurent was not the person he was paid to protect and he would not dare baby him, for the same reasons.

“Don’t mess up,” he called as Laurent departed, done with the insidious interrogation.

“I never do.”

Laurent chose not to hear the ugly snort behind him. He waved through the crowd, stopping to chat with couples on the look-out for recognition from the hosts and larger groups who would unanimously revel on his witty conversation once he departed.

He saw Torveld and the blonde doe-faced youth he had taken as unofficial sugar baby, and the looks exchanged with the closest server, barely older. Vannes smiled her shark grin at him from across the room. Laurent met her stare and raised his glass in salutation. He almost bumped into Ancel a minute later, and spent a longer time than he intended talking horses with Berenger.

Laurent had to give it to Ancel: though he was clearly bored and out of his depth, he found a way of holding Laurent’s gaze dead on. It would have been uncomfortable, had Laurent not spent his formative years developing and honing the same tactics.

It was almost enough. The clock was indicating well past eleven when Laurent’s eyes passed over Damianos for the first time.

It was a quick glance, accidental turned informative: Laurent noted the width of his shoulders, possibly greater than two years ago. The shine of his hair, combed and slicked back in a way that somehow tamed the curls. The dark color of his suit; almost a perfect match to Laurent’s. The thought bothered him for a moment, so he traded it for a third glass of champagne.

It was almost certainly a mistake. He found he did not care much.

Drinking meant relative immobility. He had raised the glass to his lips when Damianos turned from his conversation—who was it with him? Did it matter?—and saw him.

The look on his face was too earnest to stomach this late in the night with alcohol in his blood. Laurent held his gaze for two seconds, which were two seconds too long but did not appear that way at the time, and turned away.

The party was winding down: the charity part had been done, and now there was music from a half-hidden orchestra and some dancing. Laurent cut through the small of gatherings of people he did not have the obligation nor the will to entertain anymore and stepped outside.  

The balcony was wide, closed off by a wide stone bannister with intricate carvings, and led off to the sprawling grass. Laurent took a moment to inhale deeply. The cool air was a blessing on his overheated skin; he put down the glass and folded his arms on the bannister, pressing his forehead into the stone. He didn’t know what kind of stone it even was: sandstone? Granite? Were the two even alike? He knew it wasn’t marble: he could still feel its smooth expanse under his hand and the blinding vision of it under the sun.

There he went again.

Laurent stayed close to the bannister when he took down the stairs, unsure of his own legs. He had no experience on which to base his current state on. He didn’t think he was very drunk, but the filter in his mind seemed to have a life of his own. He felt as though he would explode in words if anyone talked to him. Maybe he would keep on talking until there were no words inside his head anymore, let them pouring out until he was dry as a desert.

Maybe he was a desert: dry and cold at night, uninhabitable and hostile.

Damianos found him leaning against the remains of an old column, watching the stars unblinkingly until his head spinned and he had to close his eyes against dizziness.

“Laurent,” Damianos said after a while, after moment spent aware of the other and their shared history. It weighted between them, like a bag full of water that kept splashing them frozen.

“Ah,” Laurent said. He opened his eyes. “Hello, Damianos.”

Something passed in Damianos’s gaze. He was probably thinking about the last time Laurent had called him his full name, before they had dated. He liked easy camaraderie and friendliness, but Laurent was not here to reassure his need to be well-liked.

“Did you know I’d come and find you?” he asked. “I didn’t know myself until I did it.”

“You’re a really bad liar.”

“You’re drunk.”

Laurent let out a silent laugh. “Does it bother you?”

“I hope it’s not because of me.”

Of course it was. Laurent turned fully toward him and crossed his arms on his chest. Damianos’s eyes were wide open and dark in the moonlight, like his clothing and his hair. He looked like a sketch on canvas, his lines suggested rather than fully drawn.

He looked like the man Laurent had left a year ago alone in his apartment, angry and crushed because he had not gotten to do the crushing himself.

“What are you going to do about it?” Laurent asked, meaning the long conversation everyone had wanted to have with him afterwards.

Oh, Laurent, why did you break up with him?

I thought you guys were moving in together!

Laurent, he was perfect. What have you done?

Love is a scam. Drink?

Damianos didn’t seem to understand him. “You’re drunk,” he repeated.

Laurent waved his hand. “Astute observation. Are you trying to make it disappear by repeating it? If you say ‘Laurent is drunk’ three times, you’ll invoke—”

He was rambling. Damianos strode forward once, breaking his pace immediately. He gained and lost his assured expression in the same breath.

“This is the first time I see you in a year,” he started, running a hand in his hair, messing it up, “and you’re drunk.”

Why did he keep saying it? Laurent had seen him with a glass in hand: he could not pretend at perfection. Laurent pushed back from the column.

“Right,” he said, not entirely sure of the next words pushing out of his mouth. “This is as predictably boring as I thought it would be. If you’ll excuse me—”

“Wait.” Damianos’s arm shot up to block Laurent before he could step around him. It was for show and they both knew it: Laurent would be able to sidestep before Damianos could make up his mind to reach for him. “Were you avoiding me?”

“No.” Laurent made a dismissive gesture. “You don’t avoid a fly.”

“Is that what I am to you? Something to swat away?”

Laurent wanted to say yes, you are. Get out of my way. He wanted to say, no, because I’ve never felt this lost than this past year. His mouth felt full of cardboard.

“Damianos,” he started, focusing on the lapel of his jacket, rather than the strong chest under it or the face above his own, earnest and true when it was not bearable to be. “Damen.”

The look on Damen’s face changed with that word: in a flash, he was still the slightly arrogant young man who had swept Laurent off his feet even though he had felt nailed to the ground.

“I—” Laurent said, and then his phone rang.

They looked down at the same time. Laurent let out a little disbelieving laugh. Damen said “Your phone” like it was an incantation.

It was Auguste. It stopped ringing right when Laurent tapped to accept the call, then started again almost immediately.

Auguste wasn’t an anxious caller. There had to be a problem.

“Then you should go,” Damen said, and Laurent realized he’d said it out loud.

“Yes,” he said and picked up.

Damen turned away first, stepping aside to let Laurent go back toward the building.

Laurent went without turning back, trying not to hear the singular sound of his steps on gravel. He didn’t want to think about Damen’s solitary figure next to the white stone, half cast in the shadows like an echo of the past.

He did anyway.

#lamen #laurent #damen #captive prince #captive prince fic #my fics #i don't do angst usually so this is my best #also i'm falling asleep standing so this is unedited #i'll regret it in the morning #ex bfs au

[mayhemories]

Braids & War Paint (Part 5)

Notes On:

Part 1: / Part 2: / Part 3: / Part 4: 

Aelin’s laboured breaths and thundering footfalls were a rhythmic beat in the fog filled castle grounds. Guards saluted as she ran past, Fleetfoot yapping and running alongside her. 

Now the spring rains had stopped and Terrasen began their preparations for summer, Aelin had found herself unleashing all her energy into running the length of the grounds each morning. She took a sharp left turn into the main courtyard junction just as her counterpart came jogging out of the rose garden gate, his long strides causing him to reach Aelin’s side from across the courtyard in mere seconds. 

“You’re quicker than I anticipated.” Rowan said breathily. The two of them had been running alternate courses over the past day or two, always managing to meet in the junction at the same time. They run the last leg together. Usually the last section of their course was filled with taunts and competitions that never get resolved. 

“I’m full of surprises.” Aelin quipped as they slowed to a walk. The training field was busy with soldiers that Aedion and Lysandra had been watching. Galan seemed to take a liking to the male Ashryver cousin better, Aelin only knew it was because Aedion gave him the warmer welcome. But nonetheless, Galan, the eldest out of the three Ashryver descendants followed Aedion around like a lost puppy. 

Aelin drew a blunt training sword from a pile and gestured for Rowan to follow. 

“Care for a spar, Prince?” Aelin asked, gripping the hilt of the training sword. Rowan’s laugh sent shivers down her spine, her smile reached her eyes as she watched the old stubborn face pull a sword too. 

“Be prepared to swallow defeat.” Rowan said charmingly in the accent of his. Aelin was intrigued by the way he inspected the blunt blade.

“I think you underestimate me.” Aelin smirked at the challenge in his eyes.

They walked out into the field until they found an empty space big enough. If the Prince of the Four Winds and the Light-Bringer were to duel there needed to be enough safe space for the onlookers they would ultimately attract. 

The sun was directly above head, her presence was a welcomed one by the people of Terrasen.

“How long have they been going at it?” Rhoe Galathynius asked his general and nephew, Aedion Ashryver. Aedion shook his head and laughed, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. A small wind torrent pushed against a wall of blue flame, sparks flew, though both barriers held. Grunts, snarls and taunts could be heard from the palace gates. The tell-tale sign of fae bullshit.

“They abandoned swords half an hour ago.” Aedion answered. Rhoe was surprised they even started with weapons, even a blind man could see that no one would win with metal. The pair were too equally skilled it would’ve gone to an instantaneous stand still. It was that moment that Aelin sent a small ball of flame at his highness of Doneralle, which blocked it just as quick as Aelin attacked. They were the mirror image of each other, the opposite sides of the same coin. Rhoe shook his head in disbelief. 

Their attacks were getting so vibrant and intense that Rhoe could see the pissing contest from the throne room windows. Although, Rhoe knew how deep his daughter’s power went, how she learned what burnout did when she was younger, how she screamed when she experienced her first burnout, that she would be absolutely fine, that her power was so strong it was nearly limitless. He just couldn’t help but be concerned. Although, the whole Prince Rowan situation was something else. Evalin was very worried about the developing attachment Aelin was creating with Maeve’s high ranking official but Rhoe could see what his wife, his daughter and Rowan Whitethorn could not. 

Even though Rhoe’s blood had been diluted of any Fae, he still felt a connection to his heritage, he still taught himself about everything Orynth’s great library could offer. He knew a carranam bond when he saw one.

Rowan’s wind tried to smother his daughter’s flames that had now turned into a golden hue, instead Aelin used the battering gale forced winds to her advantage, like she had been taught and fuelled her flames with them. 

The Whitethorn Prince had impressive power too. Rhoe stood a fair few yards away from their standoff and his fawn coloured hair flew about, Lysandra was shielding her eyes as she walked closer to the duelling fae, her shouts were swallowed by the crack of Aelin’s wildfire.  

Rhoe Galathynius laughed as he bent down to the ground and began to draw the pattern. the wyrdmark of magic suspension. Their magic died down as the mark glowed brighter until they came to a complete halt. Rhoe stood to his full height and walked to the staring contest between his daughter and the forgien prince. They stood like Evalin and he did once, nose to nose, chests heaving, eyes locked. Rhoe smiled, his contests with Evalin were always with words and wit, never brute and grit. 

Rhoe laced an arm around his daughter, her eyes snapping to his as he did so. He placed his other hand on Rowan Whitethorn’s shoulder, his eyes filled with the realisation Rhoe had a few moments prior. 

“I think we should all go get cleaned up for lunch, yes?” Rhoe said smiling, not in the slightest mad at the singed grass underfoot. 

“And then she just there her sword down and started attacking the poor man!” Aedion exclaimed, the whole luncheon table laughed at his recount of Aelin and Rowan’s contest. They had agreed that neither of them won. 

Though Rowan knew that she was starting to get frustrated before her father put a cap on it. 

He ate quietly, his thoughts about the carranam bond had taken all his focus. His carranam, Rowan Whitethorn’s carranam was the heir of Terrasen. From what Rowan could piece together Aelin had no idea. Though, Rhoe seemed to at least suspect something. What was Rowan expecting, as someone as educated as Rhoe Galathynius would be able to smell a bond like that from a mile away. 

“Aelin, Dorian will be arriving tonight.” Princess Evalin said nonchalantly, Aelin’s eyes lit up at the comment. Rowan ignored the green pang in his chest and put together the puzzle pieces. ‘Dorian’ would be none other than the Crown Prince of Adarlan, the one who surprised the whole continent when his raw power was revealed, how the power he had somehow obtained from his ancestor Gavin. Aelin had mentioned to Rowan that she was quite close friends with the Crown Prince. 

Rowan looked towards Galan, noted how his facial features tightened when the heir of Adarlan was mentioned, Wendlyn and Adarlan’s relations had been…rocky for sometime now. 

“What is he arriving to attend?” Galan asked, his voice tight. At his question Aelin’s mother gave the princess a dirty look from across the table, Rowan tried to hide the quirk of his lip at Aelin’s eye roll. Of course she hide information from the clingy cousin. 

“The Beltane Ball. Terrasen holds one each year for all nobility of Erilea.” Evalin explained, Rowan almost choked and chucked his own dirty glance at Aelin. Rowan hated dancing. Rowan hated dancing more than he hated Fenrys’ sense of humour. 

“Oh.” Was all the heir of Varesee could muster. 

“Dorian always comes a day early to spend time with Aelin.” Rhoe chipped in, his fork pointing accusingly at Aelin before he muttered: “If he offers you another dog you won’t take it.” 

While the table laughed Rowan wondered if Aelin liked dancing. 

Aelin sat in the drawing room, new book in hand. Her and Rowan had found a quiet spot near the window, as she read Rowan finished more letters, apparently these were letters to the Demi-Fae of Mistward, Rowan was wishing them a happy Beltane. The sun had been and gone, the other stars were out. 

Aelin was waiting for Dorian, Chaol, Nesryn and Sorcha. Mainly, she was waiting to hear what Dorian thought of Rowan. 

It was dead silent in the drawing room, besides the comforting cracks from the fire in the stone fireplace. Aelin had been waiting in her nightgown and robe, her book that she was ‘reading’ long forgotten. Her eyes were in a constant battle of watching out the window for the Adarlan procession and watching Rowan’s slight frown when he concentrated.

The latter always seemed to win. 

She could tell their was something on his mind, something big enough to cause his s’ to be slightly wonky and make him place comma’s in unnecessary spots. Something was big enough to stop him from looking at her, even when her nightwear was silk. Aelin gathered it must have been a big issue if someone wasn’t focused on her beauty. 

He only looked at her when the sound of horses and carriages could be heard. The sign of the Adarlan procession. 

“Come on!” Aelin squealed, grabbing Rowan by the wrist Aelin ran to the palace doors, dragging Rowan behind her. 

They ran down a flight of stairs, turned left into the torch lit grand foyer of the castle of Orynth. 

“Aelin!” Dorian smiled, his eyes tight with tiredness. Aelin dropped Rowan’s wrist as she hugged her friend. She said her brief hello to Chaol before giving Nesryn Faliq a hug. Nesryn had been training as a solider when Aelin visited Dorian last year, the best archer Aelin had ever seen and with that compliment they became friends. Sorcha on the other hand was Dorian’s personal healer, they had become close friends when Dorian had injured his hands trying to tame his raw power. In turn, Aelin had become friends with Sorcha because Dorian was. 

“I’m so glad you all could make it.” Aelin said, she saw Dorian’s eyes leave her and look over her shoulder where Rowan was leaning against the wall. 

“Who’s your friend?” Dorian asked, the Adarlan guests all looked at Rowan at once. Something territorial flared up in Aelin when she saw Nesryn and Sorcha take him in. Aelin blamed that territorial feeling for what she said next:

“This is my Carranam, Prince Rowan Whitethorn of Doneralle.” Aelin thought Rowan would be shocked or taken aback, but he pushed off the wall and draped a casual arm over Aelin’s shoulder. He extended his hand to Dorian. 

“A pleasure to meet you.” 

It had been hours since Rowan was in the foyer with Aelin and the Adarlan nobility. He laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep, all the memories flashed across his mind at once, Aelin’s body in the rose coloured night gown, her smile, her intensity, the way she introduced him to the Crown Prince.

She had known that they were Carranam and was happy about it. He couldn’t believe the way she introduced him. 

Rowan was more than three hundred years old. He shouldn’t be having butterfly’s in his stomach thinking about the Crown Princess of Terrasen. He shouldn’t be so careless. He shouldn’t be territorial over someone like Aelin. He shouldn’t be thinking about her legs or the swells of her breasts.  A body was just a body, but Aelin’s body… that was different. 

He was too old to be lost in her light. He shouldn’t be fumbling blind. 

But he was and Rowan Whitethorn wasn’t going to change a single thing about the situation. 

AN: This part was written for: @2-bookmaster-2 @aelin-and-feyre @illyriangoddess @rowanismybae @sparkleywonderful @cassiancalore @igniscorde7112 @illyrian-high-lord @daughterxofxnight @bigsis227 @crazybookladythings and @gcarroll

Thank you all for the love and support :) 

As always, if you have fic requests, prompts, ideas, questions or just wanna chat, drop me an ask or leave something in my inbox. 

Much love and many thanks,

-El. 

#braids and war paint #Braids & War Paint #throne of glass #throne of glass au #throne of glass fan fiction #throne of glass fanfiction #rowaelin #aelin ashryver #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #aedion ashryver #lysandra #lysaedion #aedion x lysandra #dorian havilliard #chaol westfall #nesryn faliq #chaol x nesryn #sorcha #manon blackbeak #manorian #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #elorcan #elide x lorcan #vaughan #connall #gavriel

[robacosta]

Another week is done and we still have no rain here in Phoenix.

I guess Tucson just south of us received some showery blessing but that’s still a big “No” from us here in the valley. We’re still a giant heat bubble pushing away that which is the most beneficial to us desert rats.There’s something poetic here, but I’m not classy enough to put the pieces and metaphors together.

All we can do is stay inside, pray to the sun god not to kill us, and use as much A/C as our wallets permit.

Hello, welcome to my Weeknotes for July 6 to July 13.

Book writing is a slow, arduous process and I don’t recommend anyone try it ever again unless they want their glass heart repeatedly shattered with a rusty hammer which was probably used in at least 9 previous murders.

…

So book writing is going well.

Since I took the initiative to move the deadline of Project: BIANCA back another month, now due at the end of July, it’s become a little easier to breathe. Real life got in the way, as it wants to do, so I needed to adjust. Make time. Make space. After all, the whole reason I’m doing what I’m doing is because I wanted to be my own boss.

But then house hunting started.

My wife and I are expecting twins (no, we don’t know what they are yet) in the middle of December so a move was required. Didn’t think raising two baby-something-or-others in a 4th floor apartment in downtown Phoenix would have been too pleasant for our bank accounts.

Or our downstairs neighbors.

The stomping. Good lord, can you imagine?

This brings up the topic of real-world responsibilities vs. writing commitments. I committed to writing at least 1,500 words a day for the book, sometimes more, sometimes less, but always in that ballpark. However, for 3 days straight, I wasn’t afforded any time to sit and write…

I did, however, take that time to start training to defeat all the Master Trainers in Pokémon : Let’s Go Pikachu.

https://twitter.com/RobAcosta/status/1147341982148124672

…You don’t need to slap me in the face. Obviously, that’s where my writing time should be.

I think I believe the Pokémon time is me unwinding, relaxing, and I guess in many ways I should still be doing that. After all, if the gasket blows on this body that’s it, there’s no more writing for anyone.

But maybe I don’t need to relax and catch 120 Rattata to max out the state of the one Rattata I have. Maybe I draw the line at 80 Rattata, take that 30 minutes I saved, and write.

Balance.

I surpassed 100 #7SecondShortStories this week on my Instagram.

For those that may not know, as a daily writing warm-up, I post short stories on my Instagram feed which disappear after 7 seconds. The challenge is to try and condense a cohesive narrative into a few lines, something that will leave the audience chomping at the bits, wanting to know more, but knowing exactly enough to be satisfied. It’s a fun challenge and I’m going to continue at least until I hit story # 365.

As part of the week long celebration I decided to do one narrative over the course of seven days. One part, each day. All together, to read the entire story, it should theoretically take only 49 seconds.

49 seconds to tell a story.

For your consideration, here it is:

The Spiderwick Chronicles: The Field Guide and The Seeing Stone by Tony DiTerlizzi and Holly Black (Goodreads)

I, like I’m sure a lot of you, only have experience with this franchise through that very underwhelming movie that came out back in the mid-00s when every young adult fantasy series was being bought up and turned into movies to try and compete with the juggernaut that was/is the Harry Potter franchise.

“Got even the slightest bit of magic in ye, even if ye aren’t a story centered around it and true darkness comes from our own twisted hears? Come ‘ere! Here’s a subpar trailer that’ll make you look more exciting and goofy than your tale really is!”

Not sure where that came from.

I loved these first two books. I devoured them both in a day.

The Grace family has just moved out of the city, escaping a messy divorce and troubled times at school. Jared, one half of a group of twins, is having trouble adjusting while his fencing enthusiastic older sister and animal obsessed twin brother don’t seem to mind. He thinks he’s discovered some kind of book revealing the existence of magical creatures.

Fae.

Now, that’s much different than “fairies,” and both DiTerlizzi and Black hold no punches when it comes to the fae’s representation. There’s a darker edge here as the Grace children try to figure out how to live in this new world they’ve tripped into. While their mother is blind to a lot of the shenanigans wrecking their old house, only Jared and his siblings know what’s going on and will do whatever they can to stop it.

The darker edge instilled in this story by killing and the fear of death doesn’t dampen the tale of three siblings who do not get along needing to come together to survive. There’s no fairy-tale ending, where they all realize they need each other and are totally fine. On the contrary. By story’s end all of them still have a general dislike for one another, but realize they need each other to survive.

Not sure how the movie didn’t get that. Just watch the preview of the film on Netflix when you leave the screen stationary on the thumbnail and see that it’s NOT the vibe they were going for.

Ignore the movie.

Read the books.

Found this in old blog of mine. Decided to re-share to kick-start the week:

The thing that clicked for me was the number, just a number. One page edited, two pages edited, then three, then eight. Sheets were piling up and I felt better and better, and suddenly, the new mantra took hold. The second one I’ll keep telling myself as I keep working on finishing my manuscript to submit to agents:

“Filling up notebooks and emptying pens is more important than if my writing is ‘good.’”

Telling yourself either of these mantras is hard, as that is the inherent nature of mantras. But I’m gonna keep repeating them to myself, over and over again, as I keep working towards my dreams.

Join me.

My favorite author is me.

Filling up notebooks and emptying pens is more important than if my writing is “good.”

And that’s it.

I’m out. Expect Sunday to be the day from now on when Weeknotes goes live. It’s definitely a lot easier and soul-cleansing than doing it on a Monday.

Don’t find the time.

Make the time.

I’ll see you next week.

Thanks for reading,

Follow me:

Twitter: @robacosta

Instagram: @robacosta

Contact: [email protected]

NEW BLOG POST | Weeknotes 27 What I learned, read, and did for the week of July 6-13. +++ #amwriting #writingcommunity #weeknotes Another week is done and we still have no rain here in Phoenix. I guess Tucson just south of us received some showery blessing but that's still a big "No" from us here in the valley.

#Book Review #Project: BIANCA

[loopy-atla-fanfic]

Samsara - Chapter 4

Rating: T

Characters: Mai, Zuko, Ty Lee, Azula

Story Warnings: Ableism, Suicidal Thoughts

Chapter Warnings: Suicidal Thoughts

Written for Maiko Week 2017

EPOCH 4

"Come on, Mai. It's time to embrace the day! Hey, that rhymed."

Mai laid in bed and thought about what she'd done. Not that she'd needed to go over her glorious and very cheating victory over the Avatar; that was a rather self-explanatory, in that the person who survived, won, and the person who didn't, didn't. She won, and a twelve-year old boy had bled out on the floor on her nation's throne room.

No, Mai thought about the things that had happened afterward- the discovery of her 'accomplishment' by a very surprised Azula, the subsequent subdued congratulations from said princess (and silent plotting over how to get back at Mai later), the defeat and capture of every single member of the invasion force (ranging from an older man wearing only a skirt made of grass to a boy even younger than the Avatar who claimed to be some kind of Earth Kingdom nobility), a rather jaunty celebratory parade around the capital, and finally a letter of commendation (sent by messenger hawk across the street) from the Fire Lord.

Nowhere in any of that had Zuko appeared.

Even with the Avatar dead and the resistance utterly crushed and the noise of the parade and all, he still ran off to save the world.

It was a hard thing for Mai to learn that the man she was attracted to was an optimist.

And, not to put too fine a point on it, she had defined a reality built on a foundation of new skills and new indulgences and new murders and she didn't feel any better. In fact, she was more keenly aware of what she was missing; the Avatar's bald head reminded her a little bit of her baby brother.

Tom-Tom was all the way on the other side of the world. She'd never see him again.

Not that she was really that fond of the little walking troublemaker.

But she'd never get a chance to hold him again.

That seemed unfair.

Also, the Avatar's death hadn't ended the cycle of Days of the Black Sun. Not that Mai had really been expecting it, but if anything could have reversed a curse, the death of the Bridge Between Worlds was the most likely cure. Now that it was ruled out, she could safely assume that this would never end. She was facing a complete eternity of repeating days, not that an eternity could ever be complete because by definition it didn't end. What was missing would forever be missing- Zuko, Tom-Tom, those candy-dipped strawberries they made in the Earth Kingdom...

Well, one part of that wasn't accurate: Mai couldn't safely assume that the Avatar's death was the last possible solution. She hadn't yet tried killing herself.

At the far end of the bed, Ty Lee bounced high enough to smack her head on the ceiling ("Owie!"), and Mai got up with a sigh. She thought about what to do today. Learn to cook? Murder Ty Lee's sisters? Learn to swim? Finally read Book Sixteen of 'The New Lady Rei Chronicles?' Find some creative way to kill herself so that any witnesses would be utterly horrified but Mai herself would find the situation darkly humorous as the life drained from her body?

Hm. Decisions, decisions.

Perhaps she'd shop around for a good death.

For future reference, of course.

She bathroomed, dressed (tying up her hair in the ox-horn buns once again), attended Azula's briefing, broke her fast, went to the temple, escaped the temple, and managed to get herself down the harbor just in time for the beginning of the invasion.

The whale-like underwater boats beached themselves on the dock and disgorged an army in blues and greens while Mai made sure she was ready. Deadly weapons displayed prominently so that any observer could easily identify her as a threat? Check. Red and black clothes that would properly label her as an evil Fire Nation conquered deserving of death? Check. Regular hair-style so that the Avatar's friends would recognize her as a party to the fall of Ba Sing Se and numerous incidents of aggravated assault? Check.

Okay. Let's try war.

She charged towards the nearest rampaging army, which just so happened to be wearing blue uniforms and giant helmets shaped like wolf heads. They looked like dancers for some kind of festival, not soldiers. Perhaps they were both, and designed their uniforms so that they could get right to the dancing after a victory. Certainly, that would be appropriately lewd of them, given that they were uncultured Snow Barbarians and all. Most of them were carrying spears, but she spotted one who was holding a straight jian sword with a blade so dark it was almost black.

Ooh, yes, that would be an excellent weapon to be stabbed by. And if she won, she'd get to keep it (for the rest of the day).

It wasn't until she was nearly upon the warrior that she realized it was one of the Avatar's companions- the Water Tribe boy who Ty Lee had the gross dreams about. He certainly recognized her, judging from the way he was grimacing as he readied that handsome sword of his for a good stab.

Mai plotted out a fun death, right down to her final words being, "My cute friend says hello."

She stood still, awaiting her opponent.

She looked into his blue eyes-

-and decided that it would be far too humiliating to be killed by someone wearing a giant wolf puppet on his head.

Mai sidestepped the thrusting dark blade, kicked the boy's feet out from under him, and reached around that stupid oversized helmet to stab him in the throat.

Great. Now that she had killed one of the Avatar's companions, she wasn't going to be satisfied until she got a complete set.

Oh, bother. At least this one had been pathetically easy to defeat.

And there was a whole day of war ahead of her in which to scout out further opportunities for life and death.

Sneaking up on the little blind Earthbender was hard considering the whole 'little blind Earthbender' thing.

Mai dodged another rock, and heard it impact uselessly against the harbor gate that was blocking off the path up to the Caldera city. "Seriously, how do you do that? There's no way a sonar scream could be of any use with all this noise."

The Blind Earthbender frowned. "Sonar scream? What's that?" Then she raised a wall of stone to block the incoming razor discs.

"You don't have a sonar scream?" Mai used the spear she had taken from a fallen Water Tribe warrior to vault over the stone wall and came down slashing away at the Earthbender with a knife in each hand. "That's what the street theater said you do- you scream so loud, humans ears can't hear it, and then the sound waves bounce back and hit your face or something and you interpreted that to know where everything is."

The Earthbender grinned as she used her hardened conciliar hat to deflect Mai's latest stab. She grabbed Mai's arms and yanked, saying, "That's awesome! What street theater?"

"Oh, some actors on Ember Island do parody scenes of the war. I think they're workshopping a play." Mai was dragged to the ground, where she proceeded to try to wrestle the Earthbender, yanking and punching and shoving and twisting. "(Ugh.) But it's not (ow) accurate, I guess."

"Not (errrr) quite. I see with my feet. They (don't touch me there!) sense vibrations in the earth."

"Ohhhhh. That makes (leggo leggo leggo) a lot more sense."

"Yeah."

"But aren't there a (take that!) lot of vibrations now, with all the stomping and exploding?"

"Eh, I've learned how (oof) to tune it all out."

"Nice."

"Yeah." Then the Earthbender finished the fight with a twist that made Mai's back give a much louder crack than had to be healthy.

It really hurt. And Mai found, to her further discomfort, that she now couldn't move.

The Earthbender patted her on the head. "You're all right, Gloomy. My name's Toph. If you survive and manage to ever walk again, look me up after my side wins the war."

Despite it all, Mai kind of liked Toph.

Even after the Earth Kingdom tank ran her paralyzed body over.

Mai's liking Toph did not, however, stop her from perching atop the harbor gate, rappelling down using a hastily-assembled harness and some of Ty Lee's acrobatic tricks, and shanking Toph from above like some kind of avenging spirit of the night.

That would just be silly.

Mai knew exactly where it was easiest to find the Waterbender. As the eclipse began overhead, the girl could always be found helping an injured Water Tribe man down the slope into the Caldera. So Mai waited, and then stepped into the Waterbender's path brandishing a pair of knives. "All alone and weighed down by a-"

She didn't get the finish the intimidating introduction before the Waterbender's arms snapped in to draw water from the pouches on her back and snapped out to throw an icicle. It was all done without even jostling the injured man.

Mai, not expecting resistance so quickly, took the icicle straight in the face.

"Come on, Mai. It's time to embrace the day! Hey, that rhymed."

Mai blinked.

Okay, that was kind of embarrassing.

This time, Mai just went ahead with a proper ambush. She set up a rock to hide behind, and leaped out as soon as the Waterbender walked past.

The injured Water Tribe man reacted first, heaving himself off the Waterbender's shoulders to tackle Mai in mid-air, her knives scraping uselessly against his armor. She wound up face down in the soil of her homeland.

Then something cold and sharp came down on the back of Mai's head.

Then it came down through her head.

It was chilly.

"Come on, Mai. It's time to embrace the day! Hey, that rhymed."

Okay, it should not be this hard.

Mai stepped out slowly, with her empty hands in the air, far ahead of the Waterbender's path. "Hey, truce! You've impressed me in our past encounters, and I want a chance to talk."

The Waterbender glared for a moment, and then eased the Water Tribe man to the ground and stepped forward unencumbered.

Okay. At least she hadn't attacked.

Mai and the Waterbender walked towards each other as equal paces. She idly considered which knife hidden up her sleeves she would use to betray this barbarian's trust. Really, it was the Waterbender's own fault for expecting an enemy to want to parlay in the middle of an invasion. Who did that? Fortunately, it wasn't hard to keep a blank face as she and Waterbender drew close.

Come on-

The betrayal in her gorgeous blue eyes would be delicious, and completely unlike any of Tom-Tom's features.

-from what Zuko had described-

Mai shifted so that a stiletto dropped into her palm, and then whipped it at the Waterbender's head.

-this girl-

But the Waterbender had already been moving, throwing a splash of water that passed over Mai's knife in midair, froze into another rather sharp icicle, and kept moving forward with the knife motionless inside. The icicle was aimed at Mai's head, turnabout apparently being fair play.

-was the gullible one.

"Come on, Mai. It's time to embrace the day! Hey, that rhymed."

Wow.

Zuko, as kept evidencing, was an idiot.

This time, when Mai stepped into view far ahead on the path, the Waterbender's eyes went wide and she seemed taken aback. And she didn't immediately try to resort to a deadly attack!

Perhaps she was surprised to see Mai wearing (as best as she could and with a few extra knots) one of Ty Lee's swimsuits.

But the Waterbender would also be able to see, in the regions where Mai wasn't wearing one of Ty Lee's swimsuits, so to speak, that Mai was completely unarmed. Ty Lee's choice of beachwear didn't leave any room for knives, razor discs, bolt-launchers, shanks, snacks, needles, an angry fire ferret, or even much of a pin.

"Truce!" Mai kept her hands up, something that took a concerted effort of will, giving what she was wearing (or wasn't). "I just want to talk."

The Waterbender exchanged glances with her injured older compatriot, and then eased him to the ground. She stalked forward, and Mai worried for a moment that Ty Lee's white swimsuit, and the bits of pale skin where there was no swimsuit, were both about to be ruined with bloodstains.

The Waterbender stopped when she was about two arm-lengths away. "Talk about what?"

Mai let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "You, really. You've changed since we first met. Or, well, tried to kill each other back in Omashu. I really don't want to fight you now. I just want to know what happened. Was it Ba Sing Se?"

The Waterbender's eyes narrowed. "Well, your people sort of brought down the whole Earth Kingdom and practically killed my best friend! That's the kind of thing that sticks with someone."

Mai nodded. "I get that. And for what it's worth, I'd apologize for that, but I was barely involved."

"Hm." The Waterbender relaxed just a bit. "Sokka said you let him and the Earth King go free. Thanks for that, I guess. I'm Katara."

Katara.

Like the big knife? Mai suppressed a shudder. "No problem. If you don't mind my asking, how did the Avatar survive? Everyone seemed so sure he was gone, but now even my clueless boyfriend wasn't surprised to find him leading this thing."

Katara tensed again. "I brought him back to life."

There was no further explanation forthcoming.

Either this girl was the master of deadpan delivery, or Mai was right to be terrified of her. "Got it. Um, good job?"

Katara started stalking in a circle around Mai. "So who's your boyfriend?"

Mai arched an eyebrow. "You care?"

"I'm trying to figure you out. You acted like a bully at first, but you surrendered when you had a chance in Ba Sing Se, and now you're being nice for some reason. I'm kind of wondering if this is a trap. My brother would probably just want me to take you down now, but you're obviously serious about being unarmed. (Nice underwear, by the way.) I can't just ignore this."

"Fair point." Mai really wished she had a knife with her. Why hadn't she buried one on this spot earlier in the day? That would be something to remember for next time. "My boyfriend is Prince Zuko. You know, the Fire Lord's son? Chased you around? Scar on his face?"

Katara came to a stop in front of Mai again, and tilted her head to one side, and then the other. "I can see it. You seem like someone who Zuko would be involved with."

"Thanks?"

Katara's expression tightened. "It wasn't a compliment. You know why? Because Zuko is a faithless monster who will do anything to get what he wants!"

The fire in Katara's voice could have scorched Azula.

Mai took a reflexive step back. "Hey, truce! And watch who you're calling a-"

"A monster?!" Katara took two steps forward. "I trusted Zuko under Ba Sing Se. He took my sympathy and turned around to try to kill one of the most important people in my life! Did you know that about him?"

Mai blinked. That wasn't what Zuko had described. "I knew he fought, but he couldn't- you don't understand, Zuko can't lie! He's terrible at it-"

"Oh, he didn't lie," Katara laughed. It was a very sharp kind of laughter. "I'm sure he meant every word he said about his mother and not having a choice about chasing Aang! But that was the problem! He showed me that it's not just about watching out for liars. People can mean to be good one moment, and then turn around and so something awful while thinking that they're still good! Zuko will just go along with whoever is around him. Seeing that made me smart."

Oh.

That's why Katara- the Waterbender- was so deadly now.

She had been hurt.

Just like Mai. (Perhaps she should have been upset that Zuko had been out betraying other girls, but they weren't dating at the time, and it seemed a very strange thing to be possessive about.) She found herself nodding. "You were changed by everything. Your reality defined you. And you probably didn't even realize it."

Katara tilted her head again. "What are you talking about?"

Mai shook her head. "It's not important. I just- I guess I just needed to take a look in the mirror for a moment." She turned to go-

"I'm not letting you get away to warn Zuko or Azula or whoever about us."

Mai shrugged, and sat down on the ground. "Fine. I don't have anywhere to be. But you should hurry. Azula is expecting you, and once your friends run out of time on the eclipse, she has a fleet of airships ready to fly out and win this battle for her."

Katara took a step back. "But-"

"But we didn't know you were coming?" Mai leaned back and stretched out on the rocky ground. She had learned that she was now immune to sunburn, as the day reset before the pain could really set in, and not having to hide from the sky was still a novelty. "Then how did I know to wait for you here?"

Katara ran back to pick up her injured compatriot, and then they hobbled as fast as they could down into the city.

Interestingly, the invaders almost got away, just from that one little action.

True, most of them died when they failed to get their strange underwater-ships back into the bay before the bombs fell, but it was a very close thing. And it gave her an idea.

Mai's skin was bright red when she went to bed that night.

There was no need to meet Katara again. It was far easier to sneak a bomb out of the secret airship fleet and charm a technician into teaching her how to set a timer.

Then it was a simple matter of leaving the explosive device where Katara would find it a moment too late.

Boom.

Mai was waiting, once again, when Zuko showed up to hand-deliver her heartbreak.

There was always that pause when he first saw her, and then he always came over to join her. He apparently felt he could spare her a moment, at least, before giving everything else to the world at large.

The world was a very needy girlfriend.

"I understand why you're leaving me," Mai began.

He stiffened, and then hurried over to sit beside her and put his arms around her. "How did you-"

"You almost changed," she interrupted him. She knew everything he could say by now, and the truth was that, as a communicator, he was marginally better than a komodo rhino with a gag in its mouth. It had taken Katara to make Mai see what was really going on. "I said it back when we first had this conversation, that part of what I liked about you was that you didn't want people to get hurt if you could help it. You could feel what I didn't dare. I don't care about saving the world now, and honestly, I've never been all that big on conquering it, either. It's all the same to me."

Zuko shook his head. "But it's not the same! So many people are suffering-"

"I know, Zuko. Well, I know that's what you think. When you see bad things, you want to fix them. You'd jump into a fountain to save me from a flaming melon on my head."

"It was an apple."

Mai blinked. "Really? That's what you're focusing on?"

"Sorry! Go- go on."

"Thanks." She snorted. "Save me from an apple. Whatever. And you wanted to save whoever those soldiers were from whatever it was your father wanted to do with them. And despite everything, you couldn't change that about yourself. That's what had you so upset after that meeting the other day. Yesterday. Whenever. You tried to change and failed. That's why you're leaving. I get it now."

Zuko's arms tightened around her. "I can't believe this. I thought- I thought you'd never understand! You- you can come with me, and we can-"

"No."

He leaned back, letting go of her and trying to blink his way through his confusion. "What?"

"Zuko, you didn't let me finish. You might not have changed, but I have. I don't admire that heroic streak anymore. I've seen it nearly destroy you. I've seen it destroy the people you're going to try to join. It's probably going to really you destroy now. Whatever it was about me that liked a self-sacrificing hero, it's gone."

"But-"

Mai nodded. As she put it into words, it made more and more sense. Words were handy, that way. They were certainly better than emotions. Emotions were about as trustworthy as masked killers striking from the shadows- not very, even if you were the one paying their bills. "My reality changed me. And now, I'm trapped in it. You didn't break up with me because you don't love me; you did it because love isn't going to stop us from walking two completely different paths, to two wildly different places." She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned. "The paths aren't even in the same country, and one is paved and clean and the other is just loose dirt with animal droppings mixed in and-"

"Mai."

She stopped her rambling and turned to look at him. "Yes?"

"Are you- are you breaking up with me?"

She thought about it. "I suppose I am. Sorry for stealing your thunder."

Zuko stared at her. He looked into her eyes, and it seemed to Mai like they were breathing with the same timing.

Then he sniffed, stood up, and stumbled out of the room.

Well, he did have a date, after all.

A date with an Avatar.

Mai let her hands go limp, and the knife she was going to use to kill Zuko tumbled to the ground. She wouldn't be getting a complete set of murders of the Avatar's companions, after all.

She'd have to find another hobby.

TO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW

Mai woke and immediately realized what she wanted to do. She was going to fly into the sun, or die trying, whichever happened first.

#maikoweek2017 #zumai #zuko #avatar mai #suicide