#{milo where is the real me? i’m lost and it kills me inside}

[in-my-feels-probably]

INEFFABLE - Kaz Brekker

Chapter Seven

If you would like to read this on Wattpad, it’s on there as well, my @ is in_my_feels_probably and there’s a few visuals and better descriptions and stuff on there. otherwise, enjoy, let me know what you think, and you can check out my masterlist for updates and more. don’t forget to read the prologue, it’s important to the story!

INEFFABLE – Kaz Brekker

ineffable (adj.) too great to be expressed in words, utterly indescribable; too sacred to speak of. 

Chapter Seven

Now in Kribirsk, East Ravka, the Crows and Arken sat around a table in a pub, mindlessly eating and drinking, thinking about the past days events. Kaz had left them there, leaving Elham in charge of making sure everyone stayed put while he scoped the city out, finding out what he could.

Arken was grumbling, slamming a flyer onto the table. “The Little Palace winter fete. There’s just no way he can find a way to the Sun Summoner without Nina. Especially during this ridiculous party, the place will be crawling with Second Army.”

Kaz suddenly approached the table, in an immensely better mood than the rest of them, despite his disheveled look. “We’re in luck. There’s a good chance we can crack on. Now that we’re three days’ travel from the capital, the next play is finding a way inside the Little Palace. It turns out the Kribirsk archives house the Little Palace blueprints. But, they’re kept under lock and key. Far from the prying eyes of the masses.”

Elham scoffed. “As if that’s ever stopped you.”

Jesper had perked up, high fiving Elham. “Yes.”

Arken looked confused, suddenly uneasy around the group. “What does that mean?”

“Time for a heist!”

“Jesper, I don’t think you could sound any more excited. Excited to get that kruge, finally pay me back all you owe me?”

“Oh, but Elham, isn’t my company a good enough payment?”

She threw her head back laughing. “Oh, honey, you’d have to be around me the rest of your life to pay off your debt. Honestly, I don’t get it, Kaz pays you as much as he pays me, how is it that you’re always asking me for more kruge? I must say, though, the satisfaction of watching you lose almost makes it worthwhile.”

Jesper gasped. “Elham! Rude!”

“It’s my money you’re losing anyways. Now come on, let’s go say goodbye to the goat, and get this show on the road.”

---

Elham stood next to Arken, watching Jesper hand off the goat that he had dubbed Milo, to a barmaid, giving his tearful goodbye. She rolled her eyes, and called out a goodbye to Milo, turning her attention back to Kaz, who was giving Arken instructions. He handed him a wad of money.

“I have a job for you. We need to hitch a ride east to the Little Palace. Make friends.”

Arken nervously chuckled. “But that’s the hardest job.”

Kaz tapped his cane to the back of Elham’s leg, signaling her to follow him. Over his shoulder, he called back to Arken. “You managed to win us over, didn’t you?”

Once out of earshot, making their way out the door, Elham muttered. “Hardly. He was our only option. I still don’t like him.”

“I’m not asking you to like him, I’m not overly fond of him myself. But he’s our only shot. We aren’t getting in the Little Palace without him.”

“Oh, come on Brekker, not with that attitude we aren’t. Now, what’s your big plan here, where are we going?”

He almost smirked. “You’re not going to like this.”

Kaz led them over to the alley Inej and Jesper were standing in. “Alright, Royal Archives heist, here’s the game plan. Watchmen are on guard around the clock. We want to get in and get out as quietly as possible. That means the hardware stays in the holster, Jesper.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“Inej, the dome on the roof is directly above the repository where the blueprints to the Little Palace are kept.”

“Got it, that’s my way in.”

“I’ll set a trail of phosphorus that will lead you straight to the target. The repository is secured at all times behind a two-part lock mechanism. So Inej, you have to leave the way you came in. Two hours after sunset is when you’ll go in, Jesper. You’ll need to blend in.”

“Easy.”

“The lighting valves are on the second floor.”

Inej nodded. “I’ll take my cue once I see the lights go out, and then follow your trail straight to the blueprints.”

“The archivist has to pull them a number of times a day, so we can’t steal them or they’ll know something is up.”

“So? Make a copy.”

“But careful, if you're heavy handed, you'll bleed the ink.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

Elham listened to the Crows talk back and forth, and then interrupted. “Well, I don’t. What am I supposed to be doing this whole time?”

The smirk crept back onto Kaz’s face.

“Well first, you’re coming with me to plant the phosphorus. I’m going to need you to keep the sarcastic comments to a minimum while we’re there, you are going to hate this part of the plan, though. I’m sure Jesper would love to hear them after we’re done. After we leave the archives office, I need you to distract the guards if Inej or Jesper get stuck...maybe take out one or two if necessary.”

“How am I supposed to do that? I can’t distract anyone. Kill, yes, but that seems like a bad decision.”

“It’s a last resort. Now, do you speak Suli? Zemeni?”

“No, I grew up in Kerch, I only learned Ravkan before coming to Ketterdam.”

“Well, let’s hope you don’t come across any guards then, otherwise you’re going to have to fake it. Now let's go, everyone get into place. El, you’re with me.”

---

Kaz and Elham stepped out of the carriage in front of the archives building in town. Kaz was dressed in clothes he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing in the Barrel. His usual hat was replaced by a beret, his black coat for colorful drapes. Elham, however, definitely got the shit end of the stick. She was wearing a knee length poofy dress, bright fabrics and Suli silk adorning it. She wore a matching drape around her neck, the same one Kaz was wearing.

Elham was grumbling, rolling her eyes. “What, I don’t get a hat too? Honestly, Kaz, I look ridiculous! Not as ridiculous as you, but still, you had to pick this?”

“You have to blend in, El.”

“Blend in? I look like a wedding cake! At least you get to wear something semi-normal.”

“You’re supposed to look like a foreign artist, El, one good enough to be working for the King. You couldn’t show up in your normal attire, could you?”

She huffed, smoothing down the folds and fabrics of her dress, and Kaz stifled a chuckle.

“Oh, this is funny to you? Is that why you brought me, just needed a good laugh? Bastard.”

“I brought you to play the part. You’re here for the guard. Men fall for plots like this much easier when there’s a woman in a dress around.”

“Well, if you’re wanting me to seduce someone, you seriously missed the mark. Should've let me pick the dress.”

Kaz rolled his eyes, sighing. “You’re here to be the distraction. He’s not going to pay much attention to me if he’s looking at you. I don’t need you to seduce him, hence this dress. Stop grumbling, let’s go.”

---

They stepped inside the office, and Kaz greeted the man at the desk. Elham looked around, uncomfortable after having to pass so many people on the way in looking like that.

“Good day to you, sir! My name is Ivanovski, the sculptor.”

Kaz turned and motioned to Elham, who stood awkwardly behind him. “This is my wife, she’s the artist, a very good one at that. She doesn’t speak any Ravkan, she’s Suli, but she wanted to come along and see the archive building, right, love?”

Elham stifled her shock, and gulped, turning to the man at the desk, who, as Kaz predicted, only had his eyes on her. Elham hesitated, before slightly bowing, and nodding her head towards the man.

The man seemed to lose his annoyed attitude, smiling at Elham. “She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she? Exotic, there seems to be a lot of pretty women at the capital this year, it must be the winter fete. You’re a lucky man, Ivanovski, aye?”

Elham fought the heat that rose to her cheeks, stepping from foot to foot, flustered. Kaz’s face had gone cold for a second, his jaw clenched. He quickly recovered when the man turned back to him.

“Yes! Yes, she’s very beautiful, I’m the luckiest. Actually, the winter fete is what we’re here for. I am in desperate need of your assistance.”

Elham tilted her head towards the floor, no longer able to look in Kaz’s direction. She pretended to fiddle with the ribbons of her dress, lost in thought, while listening to Kaz talk.

“I am working on a real showstopper for the winter fete. I need the dimensions to the Little Palace entrances. The grand piece may be too grand to fit through the door frame. The King will have my head if his statuary must be parked in the courtyard. Can’t leave my wife here alone, can I?”

The man sighed, looking at Elham, before heading into the archives room to retrieve the prints. “Damned fete. I have to pull the blueprints every day. Wait here.”

Elham watched Kaz reach into his pocket to pull out the phosphorus, and so she shuffled in front of the man, stepping closer to Kaz, a bright smile on her face. She nodded again in the man’s direction, and he smirked, turning to head through the door. Kaz dropped the phosphorus to the floor, using the end of his cane to sweep it under the man’s foot, and it stuck to his shoe as he walked through the door, leaving a trail for Inej to use later.

Once through the door and far enough away from earshot, Elham let the smile fall from her face, whipping around to face Kaz, who looked very pleased with himself.

“I hate you. I can’t believe you made me do this. That man stared at me the entire time, eyeing me. You’re lucky I took my knife off of my thigh for this dress, otherwise I would have been tempted to use it. You weren’t much help either.”

“That was the plan. Can’t say I didn’t want to stab him for having to listen to him speak like that, though, but it worked, didn’t it?”

The sound of footsteps slowly approached them, and Elham quickly moved back behind Kaz as the man walked back in, handing Kaz a piece of parchment.

“Ah, may the Sun Summoner bless you!”

“Oh, I’m not a believer.”

Kaz leaned closer to the man, like what he was saying was supposed to be a secret his wife couldn’t here couldn’t hear. He eyed Elham, before turning back to the man. “No, truth be told, neither am I.”

The man chuckled, leaning in as well. “Why would you, you’ve got enough to believe in standing right behind you.”

Elham saw Kaz go rigid, and she stepped closer to him, getting his and the man’s attention. Remembering she was supposed to not know the language, she spoke brokenly, sounding unsure. “Ready? We go?”

Kaz was relieved to be leaving, placing a fake smile on his face. “Yes, love, we go.”

Elham waved goodbye to the man, smiling. He waved back, eyeing her as she and Kaz walked back out of the building to the carriage.

---

An hour later, and Elham had changed back into her regular clothes, knife strapped back onto her thigh. Kaz had decided the dress was too risky if she were to get caught on the grounds, and opted for the pair to both wear guards uniforms. Still, Elham was to remain scoping for other guards or for Jesper and Inej in trouble. If she had to, she’d attempt talking her way out. The knife was still a last resort.

Kad had also decided to keep her within eye shot near him, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention. Elham was stealthy, but she was no Wraith. And truthfully, although Kaz would never admit it to himself, after today’s events, he wanted her close. He didn’t very much like her being the distraction.

They were heading to their positions, Inej already inside, Jesper soon to follow. Kaz and Elham were slowly patrolling, on opposite sides of the courtyard, making their way to the meeting point outside the exit Inej would come out of.

Thankfully, Elham didn’t run into any guards. She had seen one on the way around, and quickly ducked behind a wall, clutching her knife. Kaz had held his breath watching her, but he remained at the door Inej would come out of, releasing the breath when the guard walked away. Elham made her way up the courtyard to where Kaz was standing. She took her place by his side, and hoped that if any other guards came by and saw them from a distance, they would just assume the two had been placed on watch together as an extra security measure.

It was a waiting game at this point. Elham every once in a while glanced at the door, scanning the windows and balconies for any sign of trouble. She let her thoughts shift away from the heist, knowing Kaz would be alert.

She had felt something on this heist.

She always felt something around Kaz, but she so often pushed it away.

She thought about how long she had known Kaz, when he brought her in at 14. He had told her about the girl he met when he was a kid, who turned out to be just another part of Pekka Rollin’s scam on him and his brother. He at the time had thought she was the prettiest girl in the world. He refused to say much else about it, it taking years for Elham to piece together the story.

But when they were 14, and Elham had been part of the Dregs for a few months, he met another girl. Elham couldn’t even remember her name, but she remembered how she felt around her when she would see her on a rare occasion. Jealous. The girl could hold her own in a fight, she was confident around the other members of the gang, and she had gotten Kaz’s attention. She was beautiful, no doubt about it, she was a year older than them, and she showed interest in him too.

The one thing about her that was distinct in Elham’s memory was the girl's walk. She walked like she owned the very place she stood, exuding confidence. Like she knew something you didn’t. Elham by now had grown into herself, she could be confident as well if she wanted to, but it took some time. Imogen was long gone, a fleeting moment in their past, but she left enough impact for her to stick in Elham’s mind.

While lost in thought, she hadn’t noticed Kaz’s gaze set on her, trying to figure out what she was thinking. He grew frustrated, finally just asking in a hushed tone.

“What are you thinking about? You’ve got that little crease in your brow, like when you’re really concentrating on one of those books you leave in my office. You’re distracted, so spit it out.”

Elham hesitated, before speaking. She knew he wouldn’t let it go. “Do you remember that girl from when we were younger, who had a kind of sidle when she walked? She had smashed that bottle over that one guy’s head for getting too handsy?”

Kaz stiffened, unsure of where she was going with this. He cleared his throat. “Imogen.”

That was her name. It fit her, Elham decided.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I was just thinking about her. You...you--”

Elham stuttered, and Kaz grew uneasy.

“What, Elham? I what?”

He had turned to face her completely now, and she felt uncomfortable under his gaze, like she wanted to shrink away.

“Today, when the man was looking at me, saying all of that stuff...you looked at me like I would see you look at her.”

Kaz said nothing, but he was fighting to keep the heat from rising to his cheeks, his posture becoming rigid.

“And I was just thinking about where I had seen that look on your face before, and it was when you’d look at her.”

Kaz stayed quiet for another minute, just staring at Elham, who was beginning to regret speaking up in the first place.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t--”

Kaz interrupted. “You know, you don’t walk like her.”

Elham’s face scrunched up, confused. “What?”

Kaz continued, eyes glancing over her. “She walked with confidence and her hips forward, but it was too cocky. She’s going to get herself killed, if she hasn’t already. You don’t walk like that. You walk with your knees slightly bent, like at any moment you could get into a fighting stance. And your weight pivots to whatever side you have your sword on. You walk like a Valkyrie.”

Elham knew she was blushing now, unable to hide it. She couldn’t think of a response, just staring back at him. She was growing and more insecure under his gaze, and he had picked up on it, of course he had, he always did.

He couldn’t pretend like he hadn’t thought about the earlier events of that day, the rage he felt watching the man eye Elham and talk about her like that. He felt a pit in his stomach watching her smile at the man, and fiddle with her dress. He had noticed Elham’s glances at him in the archives office, studying his face.

He couldn’t pretend like, even though he had picked one of the most outrageous outfits he could find for her to wear, that she hadn’t looked beautiful. She always looked beautiful, even with the cuts and bruises on her face from just the events of last week alone. But he had never seen her in a dress, even if it was that dress, and she was a sight to behold.

She was supposed to be the distraction for the guards, but she ended up distracting him. He hadn’t decided whether or not that was a terrible thing yet.

He looked at Elham a moment longer, sucked in a breath, and broke the silence.

“I remember Imogen. She was pretty. Would’ve been good in any gang. But she’s not here. She didn’t stick with me all those years, did she? She’s not my Valkyrie. That’s you, El.”

She felt tears prick at her eyes, and she gave him a nod, her voice shaky. “Yeah. That’s me.”

She stared a bit longer, and then broke their gaze when she heard the door open behind them, immediately getting into a stance ready to attack if need be. Inej walked through the door, Jesper following after her.

Elham cleared her throat. “Are you both alright?”

Inej nodded, sending her a smile, Jesper coming up next to her, slinging his arm around her shoulder.

“One step closer to paying you back, love.”

She laughed again. “I don’t know, Jesper, might not be enough. I may just have to settle for your company.”

“Come on, we have a heist to plan.” Kaz nodded at the Crows, motioning them to follow him off the property and back into town.

Elham took a deep breath, and Kaz turned to her, watching her collect herself, getting more comfortable again. He nodded his head towards the path once more, and she stepped in stride next to him, Jesper and Inej on the other side of her.

---

A/N - hi everyone, this is a longer chapter. i'm starting to put in some elements from the books, mostly involving kaz's backstory, i hope that's ok and not too confusing for those of you who haven't read it and have only seen the show. i'm a little unsure about how to feel about this chapter, so let me know your thoughts. feel free to comment or message me with anything, and thanks for the support!

[dalamjisung]

stream it ❊ mark tuan

word count: 2690

genre: slice of life, streamer!mark 

member: mark x reader

description: your best friend is finally coming back, after years of living oceans away; but for some reason he is ignoring you. What is he planning?

He doesn’t tell you much. Actually, the little he does tell you is the same as nothing and if you ask anything else, he just changes the topic.

We’re finishing things today, he texted you almost a week ago, and after that, radio silence. You try calling, but not only he doesn’t pick up, but he also turns his phone off, and now all you can do is cuss him through your window, carefully keeping your voice down so that his family won’t hear you disgracing the name of their dear son.

Mr. Tuan had already caught you staring into his son’s empty room many times, and he’d always invite you over whenever he did, asking if you wanted to go take a look into his room– you two did spend a lot of time in there, after all. You did, once; but then never again… it looks exactly like it did the day he left for Korea and although it’s been more than ten years now, something inside still pulled and twisted at your heartstrings. A nostalgic pain, is what Ms. Tuan called it, and you nod; she’d know best, indeed. You might miss your best friend, but she misses her son, and nothing you feel or do can ever amount to that.

A shower is just what you need, you conclude, but even when the scalding hot water hits your back in a soft massage, you can’t stop thinking about him. Years ago, before he left, Mark made you a promise: he promised you two would finish what you started– and you knew what that meant, you knew he was talking about the relationship that had been blossoming for the past months… however, you started to doubt yourself as time went by. With the years, the feelings you had– have,– the feelings you have for him, started to numb, almost like a dull presence behind the rest of your life; behind all the other relationships you had, all the other decisions you made, everything. It’s always been there, and it is there still. No matter how much you rub your skin, how much you empty your head, Mark is always there. So naturally, after he told you he’d be coming back home, everything resurfaced. Only be the shattered again once he disappeared.

“Get over it,” You sigh, changing into an oversized t-shirt Mark left at your house last time he visited, a couple of years ago or so. You don’t even bother drying your hair, too tired with everything to deal with the task, and just throw yourself in your bed, scrolling mindlessly through Instagram.

Until you see the familiar notification.

marktuan started a live video. Watch it before it ends!

You sit up rather quickly, phone almost flying out of your hand with the abruptness of it all. His face takes all of the screen and there is a smile on his face, mischievous, almost childish. You feel overwhelmed– confused, happy, anguished,– it all comes forth in a second upon hearing his laughter. It’s embarrassing to admit, but you almost miss it– you almost don’t catch the red chair he’s sitting on, one that is freakishly similar to the one in the room across from your window. You heart is pounding on your chest, mind reeling with even the slightest possibility, and when, only when, you see a white fluff jumping onto his lap, Milo’s bark echoing from you phone at the same time you hear it from the neighboring house, you get up, screaming in shock.

“Ah, she’s here, everybody,” He chuckles, looking to the side, and you know he’s looking through his window to try and catch a glimpse of you. “I just heard her scream from her room.”

He’s here. He is in Los Angeles. And he’s been ignoring you even though you’re just a few feet away. Oh… oh, you are fuming.

Marching to your window, you pull your curtains open, and violently open the window, allowing the chill air of California’s night take over you. Your voice echoes from your phone when you finally shout out to him.

“MARK TUAN YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

“Oh my god,” He laughs, throwing his head back, and this time, you see him through his window. “Y/N, there are kids watching this!”

“I swear to god, Tuan, once I put my hands around your neck I am going to kill you!” He is looking at you know, hand over his mouth to cover his shocked expression, but you see it in his eyes– the resurfacing childish glee that shines behind the adultness in his face. He goes to his own window, leaning forward, and if he just stretched his arm out, your could reach for his hand. 

“Long time no see, Y/L/N,” He winks, and you reach out, stretching so far out that you could’ve fallen if not for his hand stoping you. “Y/N, wait– no, don’t; jesus, we haven’t done this in a while... Use the front door like a normal person, woman!”

“I’m going to jump,” You warn him, legs swinging over and getting in position. “And if I still can do it, if I don’t die in the process… you should run.”

“Wait, wait, wa–“ His whole torso is out of the window, arms out to grab you once you are within reach. He embraces you to pull you inside, like he did when you were kids. Your hands grab his windowsill on the inside, feet landing on the outside wall, and together you two get you into his room. “Are you insane?! Y/N, we are old!”

“Oh no, mister,” You don’t even care that, right now, millions of people from all around the world are watching you threaten your best friend. You don’t care that millions of people have just watched you enter him room through his window. You don’t care about anything right now… anything but Mark. “You are dead.”

You punch him in the arm, and you know that the pained face and gasp are all for show– you could feel his muscles with every punch, every slap, every touch.

“You see this, guys?” Mark looks at the camera, hair falling in his face as he dodges away from you. “She will kill me! Aghase, help me!”

“Aghase will understand me,” You snarl, getting closer. “Once they find out that you’ve been here all this time and never told me!”

“I got back home this morning!” He holds your hands above your head, body glued to his. “I just got here!”

“Then you had a whole day to tell me about it and you didn’t!” One hand frees itself and grabs his shoulder, shaking him in despair.

“Mom!” He shouts, laughing as you lost your mind. “Mom, help! Dad!”

“They’re not coming,” You tell him, struggling to free yourself. “Your parents left with mine for dinner an hour ago. You’re all mine, Tuan.”

And he softens, out of nowhere; his arms, his shoulder, his smile. It all softens, and, slowly, he lets go of your hands, using the end of his grasp on you to pull you to a warm embrace; one so familiar and fitting that all your worries just vanish, and you sense that it’s not just you. The way his head falls on top of yours, kissing your hair; the way his arms are tight, like two vines around you; the way his chest heaves because it can finally breath fresh air– Mark is home.

“I missed you,” Your voice is gurgled from unshed tears, and with your damp hair and barely there shorts, you sure look crazy. “Mark, I missed you so much, why did you–“

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, a weak chuckle leaving him. “I’m sorry, bug. I promise I’ll never do that again.”

“Aghase,” You call out, looking at the computer. “You are watching this, right? Next time he disappears, I’m gonna count on all of you to find him.”

You see all the comments popping go the screen and your curiosity gets the best of you, but when you pull away to go try and read them, Mark whines and pulls you back to him.

“No,” He mumbles, voice hoarse on your neck. “Not yet.”

“The world it watching us, you big baby,” You roll your eyes. “At least tell them something!”

“Aghase!” He shouts, frustration clear in his voice. “We’ve accomplished our mission! Operation Surprise Y/N is complete!”

More comments pop up but he is quick to wave them goodbye and shut the browser down. When he turns back to look at you, his eyes travel from yours, down to the shirt that brings a smirk of recognition to his face, and then to your legs, naked and vulnerably to the chill air.

“Everything is the same,” You say, breaking the silence, too anxious and nervous now that he is here, right in front of you. He looks so different from how you see him in the screen of your phone; so tall, so real. His hair is brown again, like it used to be when you were kids, and his eyes still do that thing when he smiles, that shinny glint of innocent mischief with the creases in the sides. But what’s so different, you finally notice, is how happy he looks to be home– how relaxed and at ease he finally is. All the times he’d been back it was rushed, always fast and busy; interviews with American broadcasting programs or modeling gigs with magazines would take all of his time. Now, though… now he stands in childhood room, looking at you, as if he has all the time in the world to do so, because, well, he does.

“I know,” Mark shoves his hands in his pockets, slowly walking to you. “It’s weird, right? Nothing’s changed.”

“Nothing’s changed,” You nod, sitting in his bed. You look around, memories of you two in that same room flooding your mind. “Wait… you just got here, right? Where’s your stuff?”

Mark looks around, too, surprised that you even noticed. “Oh… I’m not– I moved somewhere else.”

“Wha–“ You try to move, but Mark is quicker, and he sits down next to you– one arm around your waist keeping you glued to him. Your head falls on his shoulder with a defeated thud and you don’t understand… “You just got back.”

“So what?” He look at you with a frown. “I still need somewhere to live, and–“

“What I mean is that you just got back,” You mumble, turning your body to throw your legs over his; thighs laying on top of his and head nuzzled in his neck. Your hands though, are tucked to your chest, and they slowly move so your fingers can grab the extra fabric of his t-shirt, holding it as if that is the only thing keeping him next to you– the only thing stopping him from leaving again. “At least stay here a bit, you know? Your mom missed you a lot, and your dad, too! They want to spent some time with their son, and I… I just missed seeing you everyday.”

“You can still see me everyday,” Mark’s hand moves your face up, forcing you to look at him. The closeness is enough to make you blush harder than the first time he kissed you; harder than when he made his promise. “I’ll still be here in L.A.”

“Yeah, but L.A. is huge,” You roll your eyes, blinking some tears back. “I don’t know how far you’ll be! Or– or why are you even choosing to live alone; I mean, I get that you shared a dorm for years but… but you just got back, Mark, and I don’t know, you could stay here with us for a while.”

“I’m not,” He chuckles, kissing your nose. “Living alone, I mean. Hopefully, you’ll move-in with me.”

“Me?!”

“Your dad mentioned you were looking into moving out when I called him a few weeks ago, and I don’t see why not,” He shrugs, pushing your hair behind your ear. “We would have a lot of fun.”

“You are almost thirty years old,” You sound as confused as you probably look. “And you want to live with your best friend?”

“No,” Mark shakes his head, fishing out a set of keys from his pocket and dangling it in front of your face. When you try to grab it, he pulls it back. “I want to live with my girlfriend.”

“Mark,” You look at him, heart speeding up with the proximity. “Don’t you think you skipped a few steps there, buddy?”

“I don’t think so,” He smile, moving forward to peck your lips and pull back, leaving you craving for more, lips brushing against yours as he continues to speak. “I made a promise, after all; this is just me making good on that promise. Now, yes or no?”

“Just like that?” You mumble, moving to kiss his lips, too, and he smiles wide. “Yes or no?”

“Just like that, baby,” And it feels like a game, this light kissing, this barely touching, this whispered words. It feels like he is baiting you, and if this is what awaits for you in the future, then you are more than happy to fall into his trap.

“Obviously yes.”

Nothing about this kiss is desperate or intense or hungry. In fact, the laziness of it all, the slow push and pull makes it so much more than you could’ve ever remember; it’s all so Mark and your whole body calls for his, pulling him closer, laughing in excitement. He is back. He is yours.

After a while of this, he pulls his phone out of his pocket, and you look at him with wide eyes.

“You’re going to stream this?” You whisper at him, eyes wide and body recoiling.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” He groans, and that noise does something to you that has you closing your eyes and shivering. “I’m just texting our parents.”

“Why?”

“To tell them they can come back.”

“They knew?” You shoot up from where you are laying in his bed, arms hugging him from behind as you hide your face in his back. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing…”

“Of course they knew,” Mark scoffs at you. “I was going to ask you to marry me, then I though I should maybe start off slower, but I already talked to your dad about it.”

“What?!”

“Oh yeah,” He smirks, turning his head to kiss you deeply. “Expect a proposal in like, six months or something like that.”

“Mark–“

“Did she say yes?” A voice comes from the phone and you both look to where six heads are trying to fit into one screen. “Hyung, did you get dumped?”

“Uh, no, I did not get dumped, Bam,” Mark sighs, and gives you the phone. You’ve only met the guys briefly, but you, Yugyeom and Bambam had proven to be quite similar, and you laugh upon seeing the youngsters dab their excitement away.

“Hey guys!” You wave, moving to Mark’s lap so that they can see both of you. The tasing continues until your parents come home and then they just carry on where the boys left off, making jokes and complaining about the apparent delay in this relationship.

Somehow, going to sleep is hard. Your mind is still spinning from all that just happened, but when Mark jumps in through your open window and lays next to you, you know that no matter how confused you are, he’ll always be there to help you understand things a little better.

“I’m so excited to show you the apartment tomorrow,” He says, cuddling next to you. “Maybe that’ll be my first video for the YouTube channel.”

“Hm,” You turn in his arms, looking deep into his eyes. “I still think Bambam’s idea is better.”

“Y/N, don’t–“

“You should definitely play The Sims4 for your first video.”

And that’s when it hits you.

No matter how far away Mark is; no matter how busy he might be– Mark will always make time for the ones he loves. So no matter how sad goodbyes are, they are not forever… not with Mark Tuan.

----------------------------

First one of the series! How about it? What do you think? Let me know :D I’m excited to see Mark’s career take off in the US. Once again, thanks for the support lovelies, it means the world for me <3

[imdifferentshadesofpurple]

from the Anchors & Arrows series A Siren’s Agreement : Part 1

Pairing: Mark Tuan x Reader Genre: pirate!au; sea faring!au; fantasy au 

Royalty was always meant for royalty.  Water or land, it did not matter.

Those that wore the crown were destined for each other. 

That’s what you tell Mark on the deck of his ship. You try to convince him that once there was peace. 

Loyalty and love.

The look on his face as the sun bore down on him and his men was not the face of someone who believed. 

And why would he? He was raised to kill creatures like you. And now one comes to him and says everything he’s ever known is a lie?

You wouldn’t believe either.

Which is why you’re now 50 feet under water, staring into the cold eyes of the Sea Queen.

You mother.

It’s no surprise she came to find you. The waters were not always safe and your people were extra cautious when they knew the Milo was out at sea.

“Please tell me,” your mother growled, “you did not dare do what I think you did.”

Silence.

If possible, her eyes glowed an even stronger red as she neared you.

“If you want him to keep his tongue, you’ll answer me child.”

Even though tied up in the strongest seaweed, Mark looked regal and haughty, as if he wasn’t being held prisoner at the bottom of the ocean.

“It had to be done. I apologize for my rash behavior but it was the only way and you are well aware of the circumstances Your Majesty.”

The hand on your cheek and the slap that follows surprises the Prince, you see it in his eyes as your head jolts violently to the side from the action. It stings, merfolk are not immune to pain, but it’s the flaring embarrassment that momentarily colors your pale cheeks.

Be strong.

You steel yourself fir what’s next, holding your ground as you face her once more. 

Your mother’s anger is boiling, water around her hot as she tries to reign her temper in. It’s just the three of you out in open water, the Milo unmoving above you as its crew members remain frozen in time.

When she had found you, she had sensed the magic and had come alone.  Unorthodox for a Queen but you know why, the reasoning behind the that decision. 

No one truly knew just how cruel she could be. How cruel she was.

Yes, she was an able ruler, one that thought of her people before even her own family. But beneath the strength and her ever wise decisions, there was a mermaid that burned like the sun with a heart filled with bitterness.

You were not her only daughter but you were the only one that would even dare to pull a stunt like this.

“I should chop off that tail of yours and leave you in the weed with your beloved prince,” she hissed. Pulling your face tightly between two fingers, she scowled and whispered, “You know critical times are right now Y/N. How could you even think about exposing your magic to a ship full of pyrates?”

The pain burned through you but you held your ground, held her gaze, until she let go.

“People are dying mother. Humans and merfolk alike. You know there must be a union. The magic must be passed in order for both species to survive. You’re sitting your throne just waiting for us to finally go extinct!”

She looked offended, backing away momentarily. “Waiting? Waiting? You stupid girl, I’m trying to fix our problem. I’m trying to save us without having to shackle ourselves to them!” She points at Mark, eyes wild. 

“You hate humans but we are destined mother. We cannot survive without them, and they us. We are running out of time.”

“So your idea was a Siren’s Agreement? Blood mixed with blood, a bond only broken in death. You give up your tail, your magic, and become a bride of a royal from the Empire for a year? That’s your freedom Y/N, the ocean.”

You turn to Mark and you watch him absorb the information your mother just disclosed. 

“A year does not compare to death.”

Your mother’s voice was sad. “Sometimes the year is death.”

Time is still frozen when your feet hit the deck. Mark’s crew remained unmoving, staring at the spot you both stood before disappearing. You take tentative steps forward as he examines his now suddenly dry garments. Your mother’s voice echoes around in your head until his breaks through.

“Explain to me what just happened.” You chuckle bitterly, “What, it wasn’t self explaining?”

“That was the Queen. Ruler if the ocean. And your mother.”

Your silence is all the confirmation he needs so he presses on. “You asked me, before she whisked us away, if I knew what a Siren’s Agreement was. Everything she said, was it true? The agreement includes you living on land as a human? A bride for whatever royal is willing to marry you?”

You wince at the way he says it but nod nonetheless. Your eyes meet his and your gaze hardens, “It would be a sacrifice I’d be willing to make for my people”

“And mine. Considering I’d be the royal in that little sentence.”

A beat passes. 

“Your mother is lovely princess.” “She is bitter,” you bite back, ”with good reason.”

“We are not meant to be friends, let alone spouses,” he replies, “my job is to kill you. You couldn’t possibly believe I’d accept a marriage proposal.”

You turn on him, “I know very well what your job is. But the magic gained in the union between our kind ad yours brings peace. It guarantees life. And loyalty.”

“Humans have peace.”

Time was starting to move, your mother’s magic ending. His first mate Eunwoo was freed first and his eyes widened at the sight of both of you. He moved quickly down the steps of the bridge, the rest of the crew reanimating. Your own magic moves through you as you inch nearer to the ship’s bow. Mark jolts forward as if to follow you into the depths, catching himself at the last moment.

“Humans have peace,” he repeats, just as Eunwoo reaches for his elbow. Your smile holds the same sadness your mother’s voice did, wind picking up and your legs returning to its shimmering tail.

“...then you’re not paying enough attention dear prince.”

And then you jumped, lost to the sea spray as the main deck comes alive again.

You don’t return home, can’t return and face her. Your plan most likely did not work and now you didn’t know what to do.

For now, you retreated to your sanctuary, a hidden spot in the outskirts of Ered you discovered when adventuring as a child. As the years passed and you grew older, you found yourself there more and more, the silence better than the self loathing at home. 

It held small trinkets of your youth, things collected from your time away from your family. It’s not like your own quarters in the palace but you feel relief when you settle on the ground, tucked away from your failures in the quiet beating of your own heart. 

You don’t know what your next step is, unsure if there even is a next step. You don’t even know if you can go home. Your siblings will have already heard of your treachery, no doubt exaggerated by your mother.

No, for now you catch your breath. Because as you lie in your hideaway, you realize whether or not your plan worked, you did the one things forbidden of you.

You gave a human more knowledge than any should hold. You told a human of magic.

The Milo reached Khotia quicker than planned, much to Mark’s dismay.

“At least there’s no fanfare,” Eunwoo grinned, stretching his long arms over his head. “If there was another parade, you would’ve sulked all through the feast.”

Mark would’ve replied with some crude remark but chose to only growl instead, shoving past him as he made his way down the dock.

He was back on land. And back to being a prince.

“Where are you going Your Majesty,” Eunwoo yells from behind him.

To Zemër.

Zemër, a tavern settled off the docks, was a pyrate’s favorite place to unwind once their feet hit solid ground. Run by Kiraz, a former Queen’s Guard, the four walls echoed with laughter, foul words and plenty of secrets.

The only reason it was still standing, besides the fact it kept the kingdom's unsavory in one place, was because Kiraz saved Mark’s sister one.

Sacrificed her sight but had the royal family forever in her debt.

It was too early for any real noise so when Mark entered, he was unsurprised to find her standing at the bar cleaning glasses. A waft of lavender and spices hit his senses as she turned towards him, snow white hair flying up with the movement. Her crimson lips curled into a grin as he sat himself in front of her.

“You are really early Your Highness,” she teased. Roux, her right hand man and in house giant passes just then, boxes piled high in his arms and a single nod sent his way.

“You know the Milo is quick,” he says, sending his own nod back tot he man as he disappeared around the corner. She tsks, shaking her head, enticing more of that scent his way. “Now you and I both know news of that siren has already reached shore.”

He clenched his jaw in irritation, “How far up shore exactly?” She shrugs, “Not far enough but it’s only a matter of time. The Mermaid Killer let a creature go free. Was she at least pretty?”

He thought back tot he encounter, back to your face as your mother’s hand collided with your cheek.

Yes, he thought. “No,” he said aloud.

“Learn to lie better Mark,” she replied, “I’m blind but your hesitation reads a mile away. I hope you can do better than that when returning home. Having feelings for a mermaid won’t sit well with your parents.”

“There are no feelings Kiraz, by the heavens. She’s a siren.” “...exactly.”

There’s silence, aside from the grumbling of a few leftover drunkards. And then, “You’re here for information.” He never came for anything else. He was only a pyrate out on the water. He slides his prepared payment her way, “I need to know the history of a mermaid’s magic.”

Kiraz inhales sharply, dropping the glass she held, the noise of it shattering bouncing against the inside of the tavern. Mark is surprised, she’s usually so terrifyingly calm, even more so when she grabs his sleeve and hisses to the back quickly, vanishing behind the curtain. 

When he emerges on the other side, she immediately turns on him, “She showed you her magic?”

He nods, cautious. “Not that willingly. It was in desperation. She wanted to know if I knew what a Siren’s Agreement was.”

“...you don’t. Or you wouldn’t be here.” “Kiraz, do not forget who you’re speaking with. We’ve done this dance plenty of times.”

She chuckles, bowing at the waist, “Of course Prince Mark. A Siren’s Agreement. Blood mixed with blood. And a year spent on land.”

Mark remembers the Sea Queen’s words. Sometimes the year is death.

“Why don’t I know about a mermaid’s magic?” Kiraz moves off to the side, cutting tape off inventory boxes. ‘Most likely hidden. There hasn’t been a union in years.”

“A union between a royal, mermaid and human.” “...yes. Long ago, a mermaid’s magic kept the land and sea prosperous. Trade was common, as was merfolk on land.”

He remembered your transformation, your legs.

“From your silence, I assume that’s how the creature caught your attention.” He didn’t answer so she continued, “It used to be harmonious. We thrived together. Royals from land and sea, joined in together and united in old, powerful magic.”

“Until?” She sighed, “A misunderstanding. Although, it depends on who you ask. Some not as kind as I consider it traitorous.”

“Traitorous.” “The Queen Aylin, wife of the great King Asriel. I assume you remember what your tutors taught you.”

He did. “It was a time of great peace. Their union brought the Empire together. It was said that the Queen’s kindness balanced, and tamed, the King’s temper.”

“And?” “And she bore six children before passing. The king was devastated.”

Her smile was discouraging.

“History lied. She passed, yes. But a mermaid’s magic is tied to the sea. And to the love they’ve chosen on land. Queen Aylin wished to return to the ocean to strengthen her magic. And she wished to take the children. She promised to return, for she loved her husband and her life in the Kingdom of Muiria, but she grew weak on legs and needed to grow strong.”

Laced with confusion, Mark asked, “But you said merfolk on land was common.”

“Ah, but she was royal. And Asriel was afraid she’d disappear, steal his heirs and the magic away into the sea spray. He grew paranoid, his council feeding his fears like a hungry beast.”

He knew in his heart what happened next. Murder. He killed her.

“...the magic didn’t pass onto the children?” When her magic died, so did theirs.

“The princess, the siren that appeared in front of me, she said I wasn’t paying enough attention when I told her humans had peace.”

“She’s smart, that creature. You can’t see past the bow of the Milo. The land is dying. The Empire is afraid. And you honestly haven’t noticed the receding water?

He hadn’t.

“Kiraz,” he said, determination coloring his tone. She grinned, “Yes, Your Majesty?”

“How do I summon a siren?”

You feel the summons, deep within your bones, as the water shifts around you. 

The magic calling to you is strong and for a moment, you think it’s your mother beckoning you home. When feet hit solid ground and the foam dissipates, you’re surprised to see Prince Mark and a woman you don’t recognize off to his right.

“Your Majesty,” you say calmly, honestly too tired to be on alert. You could only hope you hadn’t just been summoned to the sit of your own murder. 

“Princess. Kiraz told me you merfolk can only be summoned to a place if you accept the magic. So I’m a little...”

You sigh, “In all honesty prince, I thought you were my mother demanding I come home.”

He frowns, “You...she banished you?” “My mother is cruel but she’d never risk losing another child. So no, not banished. I simply have yet to return.”

“So she was pretty.” Your attention shifts to the unfamiliar female. Her stark white hair was free against her shoulders, past the small of her back. She was dressed in military style clothing, trousers tucked into long black boots and a form fitting but loose white tunic buttoned all the way up to her neck. Her fingers were adorned in all gold jewelry, rings of all sizes. Her red lips were curled into a smile and her eyes...

“I could be hideous,” you casually say.

Her laugh was loud, “I don’t need to see you to know you’re beautiful princess,” she bows, “Kiraz. Welcome to my establishment.

That name.

“Kiraz Brum. Famed warrior of the Queen’s Guard. You know, you’re a story we tell children to frighten them.”

Kiraz grins, “What an honor. I hope my name served its purpose.” “Children stay away from the borders of Khotia so...yes. I’d say it works quite efficiently. Now, if I could? Why have you summoned me? And how? How did you know the ritual?”

She shrugs, moving backwards to sit on a nearby crate. “The why is his department. The how? Let’s just say I picked up that little tidbit when I was still employed by the royals.”

You mirrored her action, sitting on whatever was nearest, which also happened to be a crate. “A story for another time. Well, Your Majesty? Twice in 24 hours is unique to say the least. What do you want?”

Mark, silent up until now, crossed his arms. “The last union between our kind was Queen Aylin and her human husband, the great King Asriel.”

You mood suddenly soured. “Great would be too kind an adjective.” “Would murderer work better?”

“Ah, I see. Kiraz has opened those eyes of yours. Yes. Your great King Asriel, deep within his own madness and paranoid, killed his queen. You see, a Siren’s Agreement is a partnership. Blood mixed with blood. To keep the peace, for the land and sea to prosper, a mermaid’s magic must remain strong. And to feed that strength, the time spent on solid ground must match the time in Ered. Each royal pair understood the terms of the agreement and continued to honor them until your great Asriel made it impossible for the merfolk to trust humans again.”

“The council convinced him she was a traitor taking his children and the magic he considered his,” Mark whispered.

He couldn’t believe it, not really. Everything he’s been told, been taught, to what end? Why hide history?

“Why not learn from those mistakes,” he asks out loud, “why enter into a war that they know will never end?

You watch him process the truth, watch his safe walls crumble around him. And for a moment, you mourn the last bit of his innocence that was slipping away.

“Not everyone enjoyed sharing solid land with the merfolk,” Kiraz reveals, “when Aylin died, the Empire saw it as a chance to return them to the Ered for good.”

Mark meets your eyes, “But something is happening now, that’s why you came to find me.” 

You nod, “The last of the  magic is disappearing. Both land and sea are suffering and will be beyond saving if you don’t join in the agreement with me.”

He frowns, “Why me? There are at least two princes in every kingdom.” Kiraz snorts, “But how many of those princes masquerade as pyrates six months out of every year since he turned 20?”

He glares and you can’t help but laugh, caching them both off guard.

“She has a point,” you hastily reply, “you know the water, thrive on it. Out of every prince of the Empire, I thought you’d be the best option to shackle myself to for a year.”

“Such flattery princess, what kind words.” “I do not want magic to disappear,” your tone growing serious, “merfolk and humans aside, the very foundations of our homes depend on it. I do not know about you dear prince, but I want peace. For everyone.”

The captain whistles, “Do it Mark, she’d be a better diplomat than you.”

Mark doesn’t reply back, just stares at you. Weighing his options before jumping into your crazy scheme. 

“The Empire would never allow it. You mother would never allow it.” “Then we skip the formalities. If you agree, right here in the storage room of a tavern, Kiraz can be the ritual’s witness.”

It’s madness and they’re both floored at the suggestion of a hastily done ceremony in the back room of Zemër but Kiraz speaks first.

“How do you know I know the ritual?” You shrugged, “I assumed. And I assumed correctly, yes?” “...I should stop underestimating you princess.” “A wise choice Captain Brum. Now dear prince, will you refuse my offer a second time?”

It’s all too quick, too hasty of a decision to be made without guidance. Mark knows what his family will do, what the council and people of Khotia would say. Things are not done this way.

But union to a siren, royal or not, was not done at all.

Not to mention his freedom as captain of the Milo. Was he really ready for a year of life on land?

“How do I know this isn’t a trick,” he challenged. “Oh by the heavens,” Kiraz started.

“No, you’re right. For a moment, I forgot our people are enemies. The outer fields of Khotia, just north of the small village of Dimelor. You’ll find the proof you’re searching for in order to believe me. It’s less than a day’s ride for two horses if the captain here wishes to join you. Once you’ve seen, you know how to summon me again.”

Mark’s jaw clenches, eyes narrowing. “And if you’re lying?”

You magic moves around you, shifting you back to your original form. The air smells of sea spray and before you’re deposited back into the Ered, you answer his last question.

“Then dear prince, you can have a princess’ tail.”

Dimelor rests nestled in the mountains, surrounded by green fields and humble homes. The smallest village in the kingdom, it grows produce which is shipped in bulk to the citizens of the main city.

Mark’s mother, the Queen Elinia, spent springs visiting the workers and their families, ensuring not only the health of the fields but the health of their caretakers. Sometimes, she’d bring Mark and he’d play, getting lost in the tall grass. The outer fields were large, housing the bigger vegetables and the man in charge, Lucien Elidior, always snuck treats to him as a boy.

They hug when Mark dismounts his horse Nova.

“You look well my prince, welcome.” Mark smiles gently at the aging man before him. “As do you Lucien. It’s good to see you. You know my associate, Kiraz Brum.”

“Captain,” Lucien replies, bowing slightly. Kiraz grins in return, bending slightly at the waist as well.

“Now what brings you all the way out here?” Mark starts his walk down tot he fields themselves. “I need to see the fields. Shipment is soon as I recall.”

Lucien’s demeanor changes suddenly, his cheery disposition becoming nervous. Mark senses the change right away, noting Kiraz does as well.

“Something wrong Lucien?” The caretaker seems distracted, eyes darting every so often to the bend around the corner.

“Lucien?” His attention snaps back suddenly, “The shipment was early my prince! There’s no produce to oversee. I’m sorry you and the captain came all this way for nothing.”

“I’m blind but even I know you’re lying Lucien,” Kiraz relies smoothly, tucking her hands into her coat as she steps around them both. Lucien tries to intervene but Mark catches his wrist, “Whatever you’re hiding, as your future king, you must tell me.”

The older man looks guilty but nods, following close behind the two. Kiraz is quick on her feet, rounding the bend and getting full view of the fields. When Mark hears her frantically call his name, he picks up his speed before stopping completely in his tracks.

“By the heavens,” he whispers, astonished.

The once lush green fields were barren, weeds in place of towering grass and patches of dry land where fresh produce once grew dotting the area as far as he could see. He couldn’t believe his eye. He remembered what it once was, the beauty that stood before him every time he came to visit. 

“It’s gone Kiraz, she was right,” he turned towards Lucien, “how is this happening? My parents...”

“They are aware Your Majesty,” he replied. “It started a week ago, slow decay from the northwest corner of the fields. We sent a report and your mother ordered us to harvest whatever we could and quickly.”

“Do we know why this is happening,” Kiraz wonders, even though she’s well aware of the magic and its steady disappearance. 

“We are unsure captain. The early morning workers noticed dying vegetables and before we knew it, we were losing almost half of our usual harvest.”

“The other villages,” Mark inquired, worried about the response. “Unaffected for now.”

Thank the heavens.

“My prince,” Lucien slowly began, “you should know. You were never meant to see this. Your mother made it clear you were not to be told.”

“Just me or all her children?” “...you alone.”

Curious.

“Kiraz, head back to Zemër.” “And you?”

“I need to have a word with the Queen.” 

He loved the palace growing up.

While others saw it as a soaring epicenter of power, to Mark it was home. 

Safety. Family. 

But as his 20th birthday approached, he found his home stifling, as if someone had sucked out all its air. The pressure was immense, especially being the eldest boy. His sisters were safe from the responsibilities of slaying mermaids. 

He lived and breathed it.

After his first kill, after returning home a murderous hero, the four walls he had come to love felt like they were slowly closing in. He spent time training off site, missing meals to sweat out his frustrations instead. Alongside Eunwoo, childhood friend turned right hand pyrate, he became at home on the waters of the Ered. His parents never questioned it, his mother’s only complaint besides his safety was how often he found himself away. 

Walking up to them now, regal on their thrones, he wondered what they’d say. He wondered if they’d defend themselves. 

“My boy! We heard you docked early and was curious to know when you’d show your face.”

His father King Laith was a strong man, not necessarily in stature but in every other way. Graying hair didn’t dim his bright smile, nor did it stop the charisma from overflowing. A deadly combination during negotiations. Mark smiled, letting himself get wrapped up in a hug. He threw his arms around the King’s shoulders, spying his mother still atop the dais. From her calm demeanor and calculated smile, he knew she was aware of his quick trip to Dimelor. His suspicions were further confirmed upon seeing Atlas, her peregrine falcon and spy, land on a nearby ledge.

When the two men broke apart, she comes forward, seeping motherly love.

“There he is, safe and sound.”

He lets himself be embraced once more, taking in her scent of lilies and orchids, eyes closing for just a moment.

“Hello Mother.” She smiles, this time a true mother’s smile, kissing his cheek. “It’s good to have you home. Your absence was felt, your brother would much rather spar with you than his aging father.” They laugh at the King’s expense and in moments like this, Mark feels like he’s home again.

The way home once was.

“I miss the Ered already but I cannot wait for my bed. The rest of our overbearing family?”

“Your sisters took a trip to Liaven and should return within the week. And the youngest is off in Muria for two more days overseeing the newly commissioned weapons for our army. We’ll be reunited soon.”

Mark nods and before he knows it, the King is whisked away to meet with the Council and he’s left with his mother and her damn bird.

“You’ve seen the fields.” It wasn’t a question.

Right to the point then.

“Why hide that from me?” “Who’s hiding? You’ve been at sea for almost a year. Getting messages to you is difficult. Plus, agriculture is not your concern.”

“When I am King it will be. And I’ve made aware you gave the orders to purposely keep it away from me. So I’ll ask again. Why?”

Her eyes are cold as they turn towards him. “If we’re in the habit of answering questions, you’ll answer mine first. You’ve never, in 7 years, let a siren go. And now one roams free instead of being spear headed to the deck of the Milo.”

“That wasn’t a question mother.” “Do not test me.”

He’d answer her, truly, if he only he himself knew the answer. Why didn’t he kill you?

“Feelings for a siren will get you killed.” “So will hunger if our fields remain barren.”

A servant arrived then, reporting that the Queen was needed. Good, he had grown tired of this conversation. 

“The crops will be taken care of. You’ll be back on the water soon enough so don’t let yourself get worked up over it. And as for the other issue. Find it. Kill it. Do not be weak now.”

Disappearing around the corner, Mark released a pent up sigh, shutting his eyes to try and stop a growing migraine. “Useless,” he said, the word echoing in the emptiness around him. His mother knew something but would sooner sacrifice Atlas than tell him. He knew it had to do with the magic and it wouldn’t surprise him if his mother knew all the deep dark secrets of the past.

But there was one that would tell him. The Queen would be furious but things were becoming more urgent the longer he was home.

“Mother is livid,” your sister says when she finds you wandering around. 

You had returned home after meeting with the Prince and Kiraz, avoiding places your family could corner you. You forgot that your youngest sister was annoying enough to find you anyway.

“I’m sure she is.. .And I’m sure she’s told you tall tales of  my adventures. But I’m too tired to answer all your burning questions Cathia.”

“Only one question. Was he handsome? They say he is, for a murderer.”

That stop you in your tracks, water growing silent around you. 

Was he? Handsome? It’s not like you were really paying attention. You were preoccupied with more pressing matters. Thinking back, you dig into your memories, pulling a visual of the Prince forward.

Strong build. Dark hair. Striking eyes. He didn’t smile in your presence but you assumed it wouldn’t be all that terrible.

“You could say that,” you casually reply, swimming forward. Your sister follows, looking utterly pleased, “Oh my, very handsome then. You’re blushing Y/N!”

You frown, palm against your cheek, “That is absolutely ridiculous Cathia. He is the Mermaid Killer. I did what I did to save our people, to save magic. Without a union, everything as we know it will die.”

“Wait. A union? What in the great Ered are you talking about?”

Surprise colors Cathia’s features as she pulls you to a stop to face her. “Mother said nothing about a union to that murderer!”

I guess she didn’t tell them everything.

“You have nothing to worry about, Mother stopped anything from progressing. And he shot it down anyway, I am a siren after all.”

You hoped that was enough to appease your little sister but you should’ve known better. Her expression turned irate, “You make it sound as if you simply proposed a union to a random individual and not the human responsible for most of our people’s deaths. The magic might be disappearing but I’d rather disappear into the mist than have you shackled to him.”

“I’d rather live. Mother also disagrees but alas, I made my move. There’s no reason for everyone, everything, to die. A year on land is a sacrifice I can make. If he had accepted.”

Cathia is about to strike back with a rebuttal when your blood runs warm, ceasing any words in your throat. You feel it, a steady thrum in time with the beat of your heart.

I’m being summoned.

Your sister couldn’t here once the ritual was complete, whisking her to wherever the Prince was. You became momentarily frantic as you felt the pull under your skin.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you quickly say, “just leave me be for now, I beg you.”

You can plainly see in her eyes she has more to say, biting her lip apprehensively. You’re hoping she drops it, almost shouting in relief when she agrees and makes you promise to return home safely. 

“And don’t you dare do anything rash,” she scolds. You could almost laugh.

“I promise. Now go on, I’ll be fine.”

It’s when she’s finally out of sight that the thrum is at its strongest, taking you away in the current and out of the Ered.

Mark’s grandmother, the former Queen Freya, lived high up in the Thelorian Mountains, away from the main court and the royal family.

He could still remember cllimbing the very same steps he was now, small legs trying to keep up with her as she ascended quickly. Freya was the only royal that supported the idea of siren equality, living in peace with other species. Her beliefs were considered radical, whispers in court starting up behind her back. Soon she retired to the mountains, commissioning a home away from judgement in and out of the palace.

Being out on the sea kept him from her much more than he would like, the journey to see her even father than the outer fields of Dimelor. 

“If you mother discovers you’re here, she’ll have headaches for days,” his grandmother yells, hands on her hips as she stands at the top of the stairs.

He grins, sprinting up the last few steps and into her embrace. “You’re not as in shape as I thought you’d be Yien,” she teased.

“We both know you’re in much better shape than all of us combined năinai.”

She pinches his cheek, “Flattery will get you nowhere boy. Tell me why you’ve come to see an old woman up in the mountains.”

She takes his hand, grasping tightly as they walk the path to the main house. Built under the cover titanic wisteria trees, Freya’s estate spanned most of the upper hills, the flattest parts stable enough to build upon. It was created to ensure the former Queen’s safety and comfort, away from the citizens that didn’t share the same views.

Tea was waiting when they arrived, liquid steaming as his grandmother beckoned him to sit. “So. Something has happened. What’s going on?”

“Năinai, what do you know about Siren Agreements? About a union between our kind and theirs, a joining of magic?”

Freya eyes her grandson. “You finally know about the fields.” Mark’s eyes widened, “You know about that?”

She laughed, “I might live up here like a recluse but I was once Queen. And many still follow me. Of course I know things. The question is, what do you know?”

“I know things have been hidden from me. And I know taking a siren wife may save our dying land.”

“...marriage? My dear boy, a union doesn’t need to be matrimony.”

What?

Freya sits back in her chair disregarding her tea. “A union between a siren and a human is a Siren’s Agreement, yes. Blood mixed with blood, a joining of magic. The siren must spend the minimum of a year on land in order for both lands to prosper.”

“But Queen Aylin and King Asriel had children.” “ Yes, six. But not all unions result in children. Aylin, after her year, realized she had fallen in love, and vice versa. Hence, a wedding. If you’re to join in such an agreement, it doesn’t mean gold rings on your fingers.”

Which means I can still be out at sea. I can still captain the Milo.

“How is it you know so much?” She chuckles, “A Queen must be aware Yien. Just because I’m up here and everyone down there has forgotten what sirens have done for us, doesn’t meant I have to as well.”

“Forgotten? What do you  mean?”

With a sigh, she crosses her legs. “Your tutors taught you nothing then. Truly. The real history they kept hidden so people would hate a species that were once our allies. Listen closely dear. Sirens are strong and yes, they can be dangerous. But once, a very long time ago, we lived peacefully. The land and the sea were thriving in harmony. When one needed help, the other came to their aid. A partnership. Love. Friendship.”

Birds chirped overhead, filling the silence between them both. Freya watched her grandson filter through the overload of information, a pensive look on his face paired with a frown set between his brows. 

“Sweetheart, why are you here? Or rather, how are you here? How did you come to be aware of all this? You, the famed Mermaid Killer.”

He scoffed with a hint of a smile, “It’s a bit of a long story. Which I think I’ll just show you to save some time.”

Her brows rose in surprise, “Now you’ve got my interest piqued. What do you need me to do?”

You’re high up in the mountains once the smell of the Ered dissipates. The sun is bright and warm against your skin as your tail transforms into legs. You squint, hand coming up to shield your ace as an astonished voice rings out behind you.

“By the heavens. Mark, she actually appeared.” You rise, on alert even in front of a familiar face. You’re hesitant, keeping a bit of distance.

“It’s alright princess. We won’t hurt you. May I present, the Queen Dowager Freya.”

The elderly woman next to him bows, “Welcome to the Thelorian Mountains Your Majesty.”

You bow as well. “Queen Dowager. I’m aware of your efforts towards peace with our kind. It is truly appreciated.”

She smiles, “You look like your grandfather.” Shocked, your heart skips. “Y-you knew him?” “Mmmhmm. He was a brave siren. And loved you deeply. His death was...hard.” “Yes, I dear say it was.”

You shake away painful memories and address the Prince. “You summoned me again which means you’re either going to kill me or...”

“The Dimelor fields, how did you know,” he asks, halting you mid-sentence.  “Magic. Always magic. You saw it then, your crops dying.”

He nods gravelly, “Yes. Barren fields where there was once lush green. It was unfathomable to comprehend.”

“You understand then, the severity of the situation.” “I’m beginning to understand everything. Which brings me to my next point: why did you tell me a Siren’s Agreement was marriage?”

You smile knowingly, “Why dear Prince, I never said anything of the sort. You assumed it was a marriage. Has it become appealing to you, marrying me?”

His cheeks color and his grandmother can’t help but let out a breathy chuckle. “Don’t be ridiculous princess, I made an assumption, that’s all. Like your mother said, being ‘shackled’ to me would be hell.”

“You’ve met the Sea Queen.” “Unfortunately,” he mumbled. turning to her.

She addressed you, “Is she still surly and stubborn?” “When was she not?”

The Queen Dowager laughs. “Minthe always believed the sirens were better off on their own. Her hatred of humans runs as deep as their hatred of her.”

“She has a valid reason.” “Yes, sadly she does.”

Your walls fall a bit, there’s something about the former Queen you feel you can trust. She senses it as well and smiles warmly. “My grandson called you here to accept your proposal.”

That takes you aback and your head swivels towards him, “The union? You’re agreeing?”

He reaches and scratches the back of his head sheepishly, “There’s things to discuss but...yes. For the good of our people.”

“I thought what you cared about most was captaining the Milo.” “My ship isn’t more important than my people, no matter how much I love the sea.”

“You said there were things to discuss.” He straightens in a very prince like manner. “Yes. If we are joined, even if it isn’t a marriage, I will treat it as such. And what’s mine will be yours. You will be safe on land for the year you are there. I know not of the ways things once were. But I accept your guidance in the things I must learn, if you accept mine.”

You blink once. And then a few times more. “That’s very mature of you, Your Grace.”

“I can be...when the occasion calls for it. Do you agree? Or have anything to add?”

“Not really. I’m just waiting for the part where you tell me how we’re going to tell our families. I assume they’ll be present for the joining.”

He doesn’t reply, exchanging a simple look with his grandmother that speaks a thousand words. You know what it means, you share similar looks with your siblings when your mother isn’t paying attention.

“We have no plans of telling our families. Your grandmother will be our only witness and my first appearance in front of the royal family of Khotia will be on legs.”

“I have a beautiful Khotian gown you can wear,” the Queen Dowager adds. “This is rash. Insane. Crazy. Unprecedented.” 

Mark laughs. “More rash, insane, crazy and unprecedented than showing yourself to a ship full of pyrates?”

Ugh, he does have a point.

You purse your lips but say nothing, instead turning to a more authoritative figure. But as if she read your mind, Freya simply throws her hands up. “I have no objection. I’d be happy to be your witness. And I will personally be there to hold your hand as you present yourself to Khotia.”  

“And might I remind you,” the Prince butts in, “you were just fine with the idea of hastily done ritual in the back room of Zemër, with Kiraz as the witness.”

“That was before you actually accepted. I didn’t think the great Prince of Khotia would join in a union without his family’s knowledge or presence.”

His grin is smug, “I am unexpected princess.” “Which means I should expect more of the unexpected.” "Exactly. So?”

You weighed your options. Just like your idea to board the Milo, this was a bad idea. There were too many obstacles and yes all this started because of you. You, who wants to save the sea and land, even with everything stacked against you. Now, you had a prince willing.

Now, something can be done. And both worlds don’t have to burn.

You meet the prince’s eyes, the question lingering there in his irises.

“So...a union then?”

It wasn’t a grand affair. Not that either of you thought it’d be.

The ritual was simple, albeit with a bit more blood than you remembered it needing. The Queen Dowager had tears in her eyes as she blessed the union, hugging you both at the end.

There was no kiss, no stares of affection, simply a handshake between you both. There was an understanding in Mark, a new look that washed over his face when his blood mixed with the magic. He was made of it now, his soul linked to the sea in a deeper way than being a captain.

He had wondered aloud, without even realizing it, “Does it always feel like this?” “Always,” you had replied, your own magic thrumming warm within your cold siren veins.

Freya offered a meal, the first on you had on land, and discussed what happened next.

“The transformation is quick, 24 hours until I trade my tail for legs.” “What of your family,” Mark asked in between bites of his food.

“I’ll say my goodbyes. They can’t know about the union before I step on land. My mother is strong. She can undo the union with her own magic and it will painful.”

“...painful?”

His grandmother chimes in, “You are joined now my boy. Blood mixed with blood remember? Undoing that will be like ripping apart your very soul.”

He swallowed, “Sounds like something we’d like to avoid then.” You had laughed, surprising everyone, before you quickly recovered and told them you’d be back the next morning.

Your  goodbyes were quick, but not as hasty, as to avoid suspicion. You didn’t know whether or not to be upset about the fact your siblings couldn’t feel the urgency in your hugs, as if you’d be back that night. Your mother wasn’t around, attending to matters of the sea. A part of you wanted to wait but you could feel that thrum of magic, scales prickling like human skin.

You were back on land before the 24 hours were up, holding tight to a bundle to clothes and towels as Freya led you to a room in her massive home.

“It will be an adjustment but I am here if you need anything. Do not hesitate to call for me.”

“Mother believed in handling things on your own.” Her smile was gentle, “There is nothing wrong with asking for help, Your Grace. We are family.”

Family.

“Thank you Queen Dowager, I will do my best to remember that.” “Oh my dear girl, I told you. Family. Queen Dowager is too formal. Năinai will do just fine.”

Your heart started to beat strongly for a moment. “...năinai?” “Grandmother. Now get some sleep my darling. Tomorrow, you shall be introduced to the world.”

Tomorrow. Tomorrow everything shall change.

“You’re nervous.” “Sweaty palms is a symptom of being nervous?”

Mark chuckles, adjusting the collar of his very prince like gold studded military jacket. “Yes. Sweaty anything is a symptom.”

“Then yes, I’m nervous. And I don’t enjoy sweating either. Human reactions are odd and frankly, disgusting.”

He’s grinning at you as your fingers fumble and you feel the crushing weight of the gown Freya loaned you. He’s surprised that you’re nervous, if he’s being honest. He’s only ever seen you stoic and strong, rarely letting any other emotions overtake you, a side effect no doubt of being raised by the Sea Queen.

The young woman sitting next to him was different, as if time on land was slowly transforming her.

Or she’s becoming more comfortable?

He decides to do something a little rash, taking your clammy hands in his. You’re alone in the back of the carriage carrying you to the palace, unmarked as to keep attention away, so he doesn’t worry too much about the gesture. You freeze for a moment but allow the comfort, taking a deep breath as your eyes follow the scenery outside the window. The ride seems an eternity and the silence between you both is adding to the nerves already threatening to overtake your whole self.

“Tell me about your family. What should I expect?”

He started running his thumb against yours absentmindedly, like his own mind was suddenly a million miles away. “They’re regal and serious when the occasion calls for it. My father is charismatic, kind. Mother is stern, protective. She will be the hardest to win over. My younger brother is adventurous. Full of mischief. My two older sisters are funny. Gentle. But cautious. A curse of being the eldest and female. I love them dearly.”

“The deck of the Milo would tell a different story.”

He smiles a bit, “I love them dearly. It’s the crushing responsibility that takes me away to the sea. I’m the oldest male.”

“And now shackled to a siren.” He’s still smiling. “Ah, yes. And you’re shackled to the land.” “Only for a year. Remember, the magic must remain strong.”

“Do I get to throw you back in the ocean like a goldfish? We should make a ceremony out of it, invite the whole kingdom out to the docks.”

You narrow your eyes, lifting your joined hands and bringing them back down against his thigh roughly, hitting him with the underside of his own hand.

“You throw me like a goldfish, I’ll drown the Milo.”

His scandalized look causes an eruption of chaotic giggles within the carriage before it rolls to a stop and there’s a knock at the door. The nerves hit you at full force and your mouth shuts, killing all noise.

“We’ve arrived, Your Majesty,” a voice rings out. “Oh by the heavens,” you whisper.

His hand is still in yours, giving it one more squeeze. “You’re going to be fine, don’t fall apart on me now. You’re royalty too. Breathe and let’s do this.”

There was a surge of confidence running through you as Mark rapped on the door, swinging open a moment later.

To your surprise, Freya appeared at your side. You knew she’d keep her promise to come but the relief at seeing her came at a bit of a shock.

“Are you ready, my dear?” Her smile was comforting, her finger entwined with yours calming your racing heart.

“No,” Mark suddenly said, adjusting his sleeves with a smirk. “She’s sweaty.”

You shove him before Freya pulls you both along to the side entrance of the palace. Servants start to stare and the walls echo with their whispers. The Queen Dowager leads the trio, your arm around Mark’s. Every step brings you closer in and you want to appreciate the four walls of the towering Khotian palace but suddenly, someone calls Mark’s name and you are faced with the entirety of the royal family.

You’ve been by your mother’s side atop a dais as she commanded her subjects. She was intimidating so you can clearly remember the looks your people would wear as they approached her.

You’re sure you’re making that same face at this moment.

The members of Mark’s family all wear identical looks of both curiosity and mild amusement. Except for his mother. The Queen of Khotia’s gaze alone could cause water to boil. Your grip tightens, wrinkling the fabric of Mark’s jacket. His fingers clasping over yours is an odd relief, balanced you as you made your approach.

“Mother?” The King’s voice was laced with confusion and what you’d later recognize as fear. Fear of his mother or wife, you’d never know.

“Hello, my darling. It’s been some time since I’ve graced these halls. Elinia, as radiant as ever.”

The Queen’s smile did not reach her eyes.

“Mark, this is unexpected. Who is...who is this lovely young woman?” Your breath catches. She wasted no time zeroing in on you. Mark seems completely calm next to you, ginning as if everything isn’t about to change.

“Unexpected indeed by joyous nonetheless! Mother, father and my dearest siblings...may I present Y/N...”

You brace yourself.

“...princess of the Ered. Daughter of the Sea Queen.”

The throne room seems to grow cold as ice as his words are processed by those in front of you. His grandmother seems amused but you’re waiting for the explosion.

“What in the heavens did you just say?”

Ah, there it is.

A/N: oof this one was a monster. It would’ve been longer but I figured, I don’t know, maybe ending it here would be a bit of fun. I have the very last line of this thing written on a sticky note in the notebook I wrote all of this down in. I wanted to go all the way but I realized I had other parts of this collab to write. So now I can leave it up to your imagination. And once this gets posted, I’ll post that last line and it can add to your thoughts of how it would’ve played out. She’s lengthy but I hope you enjoyed. Onto the next one. xx

[xrosebloomx]

[Theo james, thirty-five, cismale ]. who is that on campus? oh, it’s just the new professor [ Milo Pierce ]. [ he/him ] is/are originally from [ Buckinghamshire, England ] and they’re teaching the [ stealth, camouflage ] classes around here. apparently they’re also a/an [ dragon ]. they remind me of [bloody bandaged knuckles, tattoo covered backside, piercing blue hues, and thunderstorms ]

( banner made by Lea)

BASICS

NAME: Milo Pierce AGE: 35 BIRTHDATE: June 17, 1986 SIGN: Gemini SPECIES: Dragon GENDER: Cismale ORIENTATION: demi sexual, it is based on who he develops a connection for. PROFESSION: Professor of stealth and camouflage at the academy LOCATION: Acadia

PHYSICAL

HAIR: thick light brown hair EYES: hazel brown if in the right light, though his eyes are blue when he’s in training mode. HEIGHT: 6’0″ MARKINGS: scar on his back from battle with his brothers, he has tattoos on his back that are wings. X , X

FAMILY

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single    SIBLINGS: Dalton ( older by 2 years; alive ), and Madeline ( younger by 10 years; ). PARENTS: Stephan and Margaret (deceased)

SKILLS

PHYSICAL PROWESS: His looks can kill, he’d rather chew you on your insubordination, rather than your smarts. If you cannot make up for your skill, than you are not ready to advance. He has a good build, doesn’t mind showing bruises , or cuts. It all heals. ABILITIES: He has good senses, can detect bullshit from a mile away, relies on his five sense when he’s fighting. If you lose one sense, you have to rely on the others. He is quick and stealthy, and knows how to blend. SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English, Italian. HOBBIES: working out, swimming, contact sports. Loves the museum and paintings.

TRAITS

POSITIVE: trustworthy, loyal, brave, attentive, daring, focused NEGATIVE: independent, temperamental, indifferent, cautious, calculative.

PREFERENCES

COLORS: dark blue, black, sunrise – lilac, blue, orange sky that mixes. SMELLS: fresh baked bread, ocean breeze, smell of wood burning, peppermint and cinnamon. DRINKS: Whiskey FOOD: pizza, tacos, steak, ice cream, -- not a picky eater at all.

OTHER

FUN FACTS: loves thunder storms, left handed, he tolerates only certain people, can have a bit of a temper. Trains at the earlier break of dawn, not a fan of the heat, prefers the cold.

CHARACTERS:

HUMAN : Four – Divergent VAMPIRE: Stefan Salvatore DRAGON : Viserion from GOT   X FEARS: to lose people he cares for. Losing himself. TRIGGERS : PTSD, can sometimes have flashbacks of his military time. Often may act out without realizing.

Song - Paralyzed by NF

“ I’m paralyzed Where are my feelings? I no longer feel things I know I should I’m paralyzed Where is the real me? I’m lost and it kills me inside I’m paralyzed ”

BIO

The Pierce household was peaceful. Being an only child, Milo was the lead role model. His parents have long waited for a chance to have a family and they shined an example out of Milo. Placing him in the best classes, giving him the opportunity to expand in his knowledge. His mother was a Psychologist and his father worked in the Art Exhibition in England, where his paintings were displayed at the Museum.  After having Milo, his parents wanted another child, and though they have tried throughout the years, they settled on adoption, that is when he met his younger sister, Madeline. As a child, his sister Madeline displayed an intellectual mind, innovative and creative in her crafts, that by the time she reached the age of seven, she excelled in projects that were above and beyond. Milo took a different kind of path, one that was a bit darker.  As he grew older, there were some arguments within the household, that involved gambling, aside from his father being a wonderful painter, he suffered a gambling problem. Which resulted in practically living off on the streets. Milo was only ten years old, while his baby sister only one at the time. His mother tried to use her professionalism  on his father which only caused more problems. Survival on the streets taught him to be distant, observant, he had become quite skilled in pick pocketing, stirring trouble between common folks, but he did what he could to get by. His mother managing to find a small apartment for them, and his father soon left the picture.

High school was a bumpy road, Milo tended to get into fights, always needing to direct his anger, his pain towards a target, and his teacher saw potential in him, pushed him to finish high school. What he was doing wasn’t going to push him to do great things, so he decided to head to join the Army. He was gifted with the ability to be able to go in headstrong and come out alive. Even the most dangerous of missions, when all odds were against him, he complete the missions, taken down enemies , a Wolf that protects his pack and when crossed, leaves a mess in his wake. For a soldier that does what is asked of him, is a good example of a candidate in which they could definitely improve, when it came to skill. Milo always sought the well being of others, the military disciplined him, and showed him to grow up with respect, he relied on his emotions most of the time.

But when he truly saw Death, face to face with loss, it was a nightmare, like with any solider that acquires PTSD during war, the images, the blood. 

Milo was isolated from the rest of his team, of course he didn’t question this, a job was a job. Though this required countless hours of study, in his performance, heart rhythm, his tolerance for pain, and the pressure he could endure. A repeat in basic training, only it wasn’t just basic training, the people with power here, wanted to make something out of him, they didn’t realized they unleashed a dragon waiting to be set free. this landed him in the academy, which he spent the rest of his life, growing, attending and eventually becoming a professor.

PERSONALITY

A good solider in this war against the Strigoi, he is compliant to all that are above him. He is sought to do the type of bidding that no one will ever do. Make people talk, have people fight it out to deem who is worthy and doesn’t mind getting dirty. He is calculative, focused and determined, no room in his life for distractions. He believes in logic, plans, and getting shit done rather than focusing on feelings and if things are right or wrong. Very hands on in any mission, and can take a beating pretty well. Milo can protect himself, his team has drilled a load of information in his head and even under serious situations, he’s not one to reveal anything. Training and spending time underground fighting are his hobbies, and it’s only make him stronger. He trains his group in fighting, hand to hand combat, and tactics in fighting. Milo is all around indifferent to people unless it pertains to what he needs to focus on. However there is a part of him untriggered, that could very well be dangerous. He can often have triggering spells that give him images and glimpse of who he used to be and that very could change everything.

CONNECTIONS

Josephine Perez : who he will protect at all cost. Kill for even. Regina : fellow friend and partner in ass kicking.

[furbyq]

Angst 1 for Erick, Fluff 14 for Bowen, and General 10 for Cassandra!

sorry this took me so long to do >.< turns out writing when you’re bad at writing is hard!

cw: alcohol, violence, blood

Angst 1: “I’m leaving.” “Of course you are, that’s all you know how to do.” OC: Erick

Erick struggled with the keyed lock in the dark. He always did on the winter days where he stayed too long at Milo's. When the door to the house opened, he was hit with an awful, familiar smell.

He found a bottle lazily stuffed in the kitchen trash. His dad had drinking again. Annoyed, he grabbed the bottle and went to confront his alcoholic guardian.

"Dad, you can't--" he said, stopping in the doorway of his parents' room. Turning the lights on, Erick was met with a perplexingly empty room. He knew his mom worked nights, but he had rarely seen his dad stray far from his bed in the past few years.

Erick checked the house, finding nothing. Even the basement was empty. Erick almost panicked before a possibility dawned on him. He grabbed a flashlight from the basement closet before heading back out the door he'd come in, walking around to the front of the house where his dad's truck was usually parked.

He found him in the front seat of the truck after dousing him in the faint LED light.

"Get that light off of me," Jack said, his voice a mix of hissing and slurring. "Before I..."

"Before you what?" Erick asked, shining the light more aggressively. "Before you drive away and crash your fucking truck again?"

His dad growled. "I'm leaving."

"Of course you are, that’s all you know how to do." Erick shot back, clapping his hands. "You should try putting effort into something, maybe then mom wouldn't hate you."

The silence was deafening, only broken by some faint dry thunder.

"Give me your keys." Erick said, reaching into the open window to feel for the ignition. Jack put his right over the area, grabbing Erick's arm with his left. "O... Ow, stop, don't--"

"You know..." Jack struggled to get the words out through his intoxication. "You remind me of her."

"It's almost like we're related or something." Erick said, rolling his eyes.

Jack went to start the car, making Erick attempt harder to grab the keys. He winced as Jack twisted his arm, pulling back too hard and falling onto the grass as the truck began rolling out of the drive way.

---

Fluff 14: “You are my family.” OC: Bowen

"Hey, wait, before you go." Bowen said, reaching out to Lavender before he could exit Thoreaux's house. "There's something I want to tell you."

"I assure you, I don't want to hear it." Lavender said exasperatedly. He leaned away defensively when Bowen touched his shoulder.

"No, I'm serious." Bowen continued, "Like for real for real."

He didn't wait for Lavender's reply as he went on. "You know, all those years ago in the Underground City, I used to spend a lot of time thinking that's all my life would ever be."

He put his other hand on Lavender's other shoulder and looked away momentarily before looking back. "I thought people only came in the flavor of evil cultists. But you and Makenna have shown me that that isn't true. That there's people out there worth living for-- Worth dying for. You and her. You are my family."

Lavender continued staring at Bowen. He wasn't great at sentimental things. "O...Okay. I... You're..."

Bowen pulled him into a hug. "You are so cold. But that's okay."

---

General 10: “You want to play pretend? Well two can play at that game.” OC: Cassandra

Cassandra was walking home from a city bar she'd frequented many times. On a whim, she decided to take a side street back to the motel she planned to stay at. As she walked along, her dense heels clomping on the damp concrete, she heard the sudden sounds of footfalls that weren't her own.

She looked around, but couldn't see anything obvious. However, she felt eyes peering at her from a nearby alleyway.

"Who's there?" she asked, "Show yourself, fucker."

Two shadowy figures exited the pitch darkness of the alleyway. Their forms were vaguely visible because of the light that shined from the nearest main road.

"Sorry," Cassandra corrected, "Fuckers. Plural."

"You lost, little lady?" the first figure asked, coming closer to her. "You got something for us"

Cassandra focused, feeling magical energy pulse through her body. Her muscles enlarged inside her body, her legs growing longer, her face becoming more gaunt. "Not so little." she said, "Not so lost."

In the dark, the change was more difficult to see, but the two unsavory characters visibly hesitated. She could tell that they shared a brief look with each other, even in the dark.

"We don't want any trouble." the second one said, holding up their hands. "We'll just go."

"That wasn't what you seemed to want a few seconds ago." Cassandra said, walking closer to the two. They retreated somewhat.

"Let's pretend that never happened." one of them offered. She couldn't tell which one.

"You want to play pretend?" Cassandra said, continuing to corner them. "Well, two can play at that game." Her tone was terse and bitter, but she collected herself.

"Actually,” she said thoughtfully, tapping a finger against her chin, “I suppose I’m going to let you live. No use killing a couple of idiots like you."

There wasn't really any reaction to this statement. Perhaps they still didn't believe the danger they were in. In the darkness, a sudden spiked appendage emerged from Cassandra's chest, snapping across the alley and slicing across the bodies of the two silently. The backdrop of the side street was spattered with the red fluid that flung from the two fools, who lay grievously injured on the ground.

"I was pretending."

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Work Something Out

Characters: Dean Winchester x Teacher!Reader, Castiel Winchester 

Word Count: 1,480

Warnings: just fluff, minor angst

Summary: One of your students tells a story that captures your attention quickly because it brings you back to your past and the one thing that changed your life forever.

Squared Filled: meeting the parents // Daycare Teacher au

Author’s Note: This is for @spndeanbingo and @spnfluffbingo2019 respectively and this is also based o @spn-imagines-nation imagine! This is unbeta’d and any and all mistakes are all on me.

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

“Alright class, I hope you all had a great summer. I see new faces, and to get to know each other, I want you to turn to your table and tell each other a little bit about you as well as something fun you did this summer,” you said to your class of adorable children. “You may begin.”

Almost immediately, chatter erupted throughout the classroom which made you smile. Taking a seat at your desk, you watch their faces grow with smiles as they told their old friends and potentially new ones of their lives. The one kid you were especially paying attention to was Castiel Winchester who was so enthusiastic in his storytelling. He had been in your class for the past few years, so you knew a little bit about him. He was usually quiet and reserved, but he wasn’t like that this time. He seemed to have found the courage to be outspoken and friendly to his peers.

Teaching kids is something you’ve always wanted to do. They were your passion and fuel that gassed up your motivation for life. Just seeing their smiles when they came to you with a project they made, a paper they wrote, a test they completed, and anything else they did at school or home gave you the utmost joy. You didn’t have any kids of your own, so you thought your school children as if they were. It was always a pleasure to teach them and help them grow into exceptionally fine people. It was always hard to watch them leave after every year, but it was worth it.

As each kid took their turns, you could tune into what they were trying to say. One kid was proudly telling their peers about how he and his older sister took a round trip across the country since she was going away to college soon and wanted to do something with him. Another kid talked about the time where she had to get her tonsils removed and how much ice cream she ate because of it. Each story was more or less the same, but they were all unique in their own way.

Getting up, you walked around the classroom and stopped by each desk to monitor the things they were talking about. You didn’t know how many times kids would talk about things that their parents did or recall something of what they heard that wasn’t appropriate for school. As you approached Castiel’s table, he was still talking about his summer, but that wasn’t why you were so concerned. It was the looks on his tablemate’s faces that got you immediately tuning into their conversation.

“And then my daddy ripped off the head of the vampire! Blood went everywhere and it was so cool! I was only allowed to stay in the car, but I saw the whole thing! It was like the time he stabbed ten demons in the gut and killed them all! He and my uncle are the best monster hunters ever!” Castiel grinned, showing off his toothless smile. He apparently had lost his two front teeth as well. His friends were clearly scared, and they looked at you for help, but you were frozen, unable to move or any anything.

His story brought back memories you’d rather forget. When you were a child, your family was murdered right in front of your eyes. For an eight-year-old, that was traumatizing enough, but it wasn’t humans that destroyed your life. A nest of vampires broke in and slaughtered everyone in their trail. The only reason why you were able to get away was that there was 7 of you and only 6 of them. It broke your heart to leave, but while they were busy munching on your family, you left and ran to your neighbor’s house who called the police. By the time they got there, the vampires were long gone, but you remembered everything about that night. Even though you told the police you were asleep and caught the men already inside. Even though you told them they were human. Even though after 25 years, you could still remember their faces and the way they sunk their teeth into your parents like they were a lean piece of meat. After that night, you never encountered another supernatural thing ever but researched a lot about vampires and other creatures in case something were to happen. Your passion was children, so you pursued that knowing that if something were to happen to your students, you would know what to do. The only problem was that they were back, and they were looking for you to complete the job. You escaped them once, and they didn’t want that to happen again.

“Castiel,” you said once you found that you could speak again. “Why don’t you let your other classmates have a chance to talk. Okay?”

“Okay, Miss Y/L/N,” he sighed as he sat down properly and let the rest of the group decide what to talk about. You made a mental note to talk to him after class because unlike his classmates, you believed every word he said.

“Castiel, could I have a word with you?” you asked at the end of the day. Students filed out of the door to greet their parents with huge smiles. You have never met Castiel’s parents, but you think you might need to now. Castiel bounces over to your desk, but once he saw the look in his eyes, he grew worried.

“You’re getting that look that my daddy does when something is wrong. Did I do something wrong?” he asked fearfully.

“No, you didn’t. Where did you come up with that story you were telling everyone?”

“It’s not a story. It really happened. My daddy and my uncle are monster hunters.”

“Okay, who is picking you up?”

“My daddy.”

“Can I speak to him? Can you go get him for me, please?” you asked sweetly. He shrugged and agreed before running out of the classroom. Knowing that there was actually monster hunters out there scared the shit out of you because you knew they were there for a reason.

“Did you get into trouble?” A man with a deep voice spoke as Castiel dragged him into the classroom.

“Miss Y/L/N says no,” the kid responded. Damn, Castiel’s dad is pretty hot. No, not pretty hot, most definitely hot. He had the brightest green eyes you have ever seen, and his body was muscular but not in the way that was disgusting. He was tall, the perfect height for you. Wait, you are not meant to size him up as your next boyfriend, he was here for a reason.

“You wanted to see me? I’m Dean Winchester,” he said as he held out his hand for you to shake which you did.

“Y/N Y/L/N. Castiel isn’t in trouble. He just told a story to his classmates that scared them. Something about vampires and demons.”

“Cas, go wait outside,” Dean said immediately, and his son did as he was told without question.

“I don’t know where he got that imagination from, but he told me everything he said was real. That you and your brother were monster hunters.”

“I’m sorry, he really shouldn’t be telling people those stories,” he chuckled.

“So the part about you slicing off a vampire’s head and stabbing ten demons in the gut is true?”

“No. Look, the bedtime stories I tell can get a little animated. That’s all.”

“That’s a shame,” you whispered.

“Why is that?”

“It doesn’t matter. Those stories aren’t real,” you sighed as you took a seat at your desk. Dean bit his bottom lip because he knew you were in some kind of supernatural trouble. If you weren’t, then you wouldn’t act like this.

“What if those stories are true? That they really happened?” he asked as he leaned on one of the student’s desks. Looking into his eyes, you knew that they were true. He only said they weren’t so he could test your reaction.

“Then I would tell you that I have a problem. A supernatural one. When I was a kid, a nest of vampires slaughtered my entire family, and now they’re back because I escaped. They’re looking for me, and since you’re a monster hunter, I figured you might be able to help. But, that’s if those stories are true,” you said with an eyebrow raised. Dean got up and produced a card from his jacket and handed it to you.

“Give me a call. We might be able to work something out,” he said with a wink. After taking the card, he walked out with his son. Never in your whole teaching career had you ever thought about dating one of your student’s parents. But to hell, if you think you were letting this one get away.

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[rachelking2819]

Jumanji: The Next Level

Welcome to my first review! I had a lot of fun writing this and watching the movie. Read my thoughts below and let me know what you think. Did I miss anything worth mentioning, let me know!

SPOILER ALERT  SPOILER  ALERT  SPOILER ALERT   SPOILER  ALERT  SPOILER ALERT   SPOILER ALERT   SPOILER ALERT   SPOILER ALERT  

Jumanji: The Next Level is the sequel to 2017’s Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle. The movie stars the familiar faces from the first movie, but we meet some new as well like Awkwafina from Crazy Rich Asians and Danny DeVito known for Matilda and Batman Returns, more about them later.

The movie follows Spencer, Martha, Fridge and Bethany back into Jumanji. They are not the only ones there though as Spencer’s grandfather Eddie and his former friend Milo are also transported into the game. To once again exit the game, they must complete the next level of Jumanji, hence the title.

The movie starts with the four friends from the last movie in four different places getting ready to go home for the holidays.  Everyone seems excited to go and meet up, except for Spencer who seems miserable in New York. Upon arrival his mood doesn’t get any better. The night before he is supposed to meet Bethany, Fridge and Martha, Spencer decides to fix the old gaming console which got destroyed in the previous movie and goes into Jumanji. Breaking his promise to his friends to never go back. Later in the movie Spencer explains that he went back because he wanted to feel like Dr. Braveheart again, have no fears and be confident. I can get that, but that is hardly the way to go about it. The last time he got stuck in the game it almost got him killed and they were with four then. Also do not forget about Alex, he was alone and stuck for decades, unable to move forward in the game until the group of friends came along. So that Spencer thought it to be a great idea to go into the game alone???, is above me.

Anyway, while Spencer is playing Dora the explorer, Fridge, Martha and Bethany meet up and discuss Spencer and Martha’s relationship which has become a situationship as to neither knows what the situation is between them. Previous movie ended with them as a new couple, now though they are together but haven’t spoken for a while. At this point I almost rolled my eyes, thinking this was going to be some melodramatic subplot. This was luckily not the case. While there is a noticeable awkwardness around when they see each other for the first time in Jumanji, it is not something that is shoved in our faces and highlighted again and again. It is quite funny and fitting to their personality with the side-eyeing and the respective signature awkwardness. One could call it adorkable.

The official make-up talk/reunion happens about 20-30 minutes to the end on the side of a steep mountain. Let me paint the picture. In order to escape Jumanji, the final level is to get a jewel from Jurgen the Brutal. He is the main antagonist and stole the jewel from some sacred villagers. The jewel is what keeps Jumanji looking alive and beautiful and keeps the soils fertile for good harvests. Back to Spencer and Martha. To get to Jurgen’s fortress they must climb an icy mountain. On the side of this mountain, nowhere near the top, they find it appropriate to have a talk about what has been and why. Like really? Time is ticking y’all, everybody and their mom is counting on you to climb that mountain and execute your part of the plan, nobody has time for this. Finally, on the mountain and inside the fortress they share their signature “do-not-know-how-to-kiss” kiss, which made me chuckle.

Well, since I have mentioned Spencer and Martha’s first meeting in this movie, I might as well explain that Spencer was not in the body of Dwayne Johnson’s Dr. Braveheart. Instead he was a character we hadn’t met before yet: Ming, a cat-burglar and master lockpicker. Actress Awkwafina did a great job portraying Spencer as this character. With the nervous talking and twitching, it was no mistake neurotic Spencer was stuck as Ming instead of the presumed Dr. Braveheart. At some point it is possible for the adventurers to switch character by jumping in some magical lake. This is where Grandpa Eddie and Spencer switch character. Grandpa Eddie who was earlier Dr. Braveheart, now possesses Ming’s skill set. Again, Awkwafina shows what great actress she is as she takes on the persona of the older man.

Of course, the performances of the other actors can not be ignored. Dwayne Johnson portraying Grandpa Eddie was for sure very funny. Kevin Hart portraying Milo as Mouse Finbar has had to have been one of the highlights tho. Milo is known to be a very slow talker and gets to the point whenever he feels like it. I had genuine belly laughs anytime this character spoke. Also, Johnson and Hart together makes for a great duo every time. Jack Black applause to you once again. I believe that in your previous you were a gangster jock, not taking ish from anyone. Loved your portrayal of Fridge. Black was also iconic as ever as he brought out his inner teenage girl. Karen Gillan did not have much new going on, so she was just as great as she was in the previous movie.

Black also gave me the most relatable scene ever. Seeing as Fridge is a college jock and cannot handle not being able to move as fast as he normally does in the body of professor Shelly, he decides to do burpees to work on his characters stamina. Well three guesses as to how that went… The most dramatic burpees I have ever seen. But if I said “that ain’t me”, I’d be lying.

My only irritation on Grandpa Eddie was that he gets cocky almost every 5 minutes and therefor puts everyone in danger. I mean I get it, who wouldn’t get cocky when in control of such a powerful character as Dr. Braveheart. But when everybody is telling you to stay put and not make a scene or to run because that guy is your weakness, you better do what you have been told. Less fuss that way and everybody lives. But now, thanks to you everyone has lost a live, bringing them to one or two lives each.

Action wise, this movie really knew how to pace it properly. Every time you just feel the urgency of the situation, which I kind of missed last time. The very first action sequence I already knew that this movie was a step up from the first. It had beautiful visuals and the urgency just hit differently.

Talking about visuals. Wow wow wow, such beautiful sights in this movie. The movie takes us through the desert, an oasis, a little bit jungle and snowy wastelands and mountains. The settings were truly a sight to behold.

Also, the movie brings you heart and emotions aplenty. Now when I say this I am probably exaggerating, ‘cause I’m that overemotional. I could be watching a thirty seconds clip of a baby laughing with their parent and I am done for. While it wasn’t exactly waterworks, I did need a moment to compose myself. Especially when Milo told Eddie that he is sick, does not have long to live and that that is the reason he came to visit Eddie after decades of not speaking to one another. I hate these kinds of plots. They get me every single time. Aside from the potential tearjerker, the four original friends share a few heartfelt moments and are like “you are perfect as you are”, not those exact words, but you get it.

After rescuing Jumanji once more, the group of seven (Alex was at some point also part of the rescue op in the game) gets ready to leave Jumanji behind and never return. However, Milo wants to stay following his impending death and wants to see so much more in life. Again, a part that made me choke up a bit.

Now finally home sans Milo, the initial meet-up continues. As the day ends, the group of friends is met with a herd of ostriches like the ones they encountered on Jumanji running through the streets. And this is where the movie ends, giving as the assumption for a next movie where Jumanji comes to the real world.

Overall Jumanji: The Next Level is a fun movie for families. I personally liked it more than the first movie. Lots of laughs and action, that’s always a win for me. Almost made me cry, but that is not a difficult task. Casting keeps being great and great visuals. The first movie I thought was eyerolling funny, filled with dead jokes and overacting. That is why I didn’t have very high hopes for this one, but I went anyway because I was curious for the way it was showed at the cinema (ScreenX: all-round screens in the theater). This movie has certainly exceeded my expectation and I am glad it did. Definitely one I will be recommending to others.

What did you think of Jumanji: The Next Level?

‘Till Next Review!

[soulguardianazeralith]

Curiosity Of Mercury

Okay so bare in mind I’ve got no real knowledge of the micoverse and that this is just me with a dumb idea of Milo n Cody meeting Mercury (an oc) and how a whale shark plushie saved Cody from losing his soul.

Milo n Cody belong to @mushroomminded

Enjoy this mess. Or don’t.

“Cody. Cody. Codycodycodycody-” Milo snickered when he was hit with a pillow, almost falling off from the bed as he earned the slightly intrigued and annoyed glare of his friend. “I know you said you were grounded and all, but pleaaase? You can’t just tell me that strange new house across the street that no one acknowledges isn’t worth exploring!”

Cody groaned, lifting his glasses to rub his eyes. “Milo I know it’s tempting but I’d rather avoid getting lost in a house that, as you stated, no one acknowledges. Look, just wait until Friday-”

“But it’s barely Sunday!”

“-so that I can tag along.”

Milo narrowed his eyes, staring silently at his friend before getting up from the bed and glancing at the window.

“Milo.” Cody rose from the desk, immediately knowing what he was about to do.

“What?”

“You are not about to jump out a window just to get me to come with you.”

Milo gave a smug look as he raced to the window, forcing Cody to grab him and wrestle him back inside. The laughter of the shark boy filled the room before suddenly fading.

He was missing something, he just knew it.

“Cody.”

“Yeah?”

“Where’s the shark.”

“The what?” Cody seemed confused. “Milo what shark?”

“The whale shark!” Milo searched frantically around his pockets, before looking out the window. Cody joined in the viewing and froze. They watched as a tall figure strode into the grass down below, picked up the shark toy that had fallen before casually walking back away, across the street and into the suspicious and old house that Milo had been nagging about.

“Milo.”

“Cody.”

“It’s a lost cau- Aaaand he’s already climbing down the window.

-

The two boys snuck into the yard, careful to avoid the long grass when Cody had noticed what looked to be a buried bear trap in the overgrowth. So far, so spooky. The house itself up close didn’t seem out of place or odd, just really really in need of touch ups and repairs. But in terms of haunted? It seemed to fit well.

“Okay.” Cody almost bumped into Milo as he stopped and spoke up. “We gotta enter through a window. If there’s a guy living here, we need to be sneaky.”

“First off, you’re saying this on their front steps?! Secondly, I’m not going into that grass just to try and enter a boarded up window. You go right ahead.” Cody tugged Milo back when the redhead actually tried to do so. “Not literally! Your dads would kill me if I let you.”

“Well it’s not like the front door is just going to open with a push.” Milo shoved the door for emphasis, seeing it not bulge for a moment before it creaked and opened inwards, sending him tumbling to the floor.

“Milo!” Cody rushed inside and pulled his friend back up as he glanced around. He dropped him when the door slammed shut. “Great, so even if this place is haunted, someone lives here and we don’t have video proof.”

“Maybe the shark will be cursed when we retrieve it and consider it proof?” Milo joked as he gestured to the plush that sat on a shelf. He scrambled to his feet before trying to reach it, yet was too short for it. “Cody, climb on! Maybe you can reach it.”

“Ooor, we can leave now before the guy comes back?” At the glare, he sighed. “Fine, fine. give me a second.” He rolled his sleeves up before climbing on MIlo’s back, settling on his shoulders and grabbing a hold of the shark plush. “Huh. That was easier than I thought.” He climbed back down, careful fall.

The two headed back towards the exit, stopping at the shut door.

“Oh. Right. Forgot about the dooooooooOOOR MILO HELP”

Cody was suddenly pulled upwards as the guy they had seen before manifested, holding Cody’s arms in one hand and prying the shark plush free with his other hand.

“NO TOUCHING PENNY! MY LITTLE PRECIOUS SHOVEL ISN’T IN FOR YOU TO STEAL!” The guy hissed, gesturing to the shark plushie.

“Uh..” Cody blinked in surprise from the sudden yelling that was not said in the way he expected. “The whale shark..?”

“Penny is not a whale! They’re my precious friend I found outside! You can’t take them!” The guy growls, their grip on Cody’s arms tightening. “The punishment for this is your glowey glowey inside self!” They suddenly leaned to the whale shark plushie. “YES! Your soul! That’s the word!”

“Milo- little help??” Cody wheezed, not really able to talk his way out of the situation. Especially since he was practically debating not losing his soul to a most likely ghost guy who calls a plush toy a ‘little shovel’.

Milo, in a sheer panic, pulled his hood on and opened his mouth to threaten the ghost, only to have a brilliant and non aggressive idea. “Hey! Hold it! You’re violating Shark Law!”

The ghost glanced over, their anger gone and a curious expression instead. “Shark Law? What do you mean, sharkie?”

Milo bit his lip as he made up a rule on the spot. “You can’t take his soul! I caught him first, therefore he and his soul are mine! The plu- uh... Penny should know this!”

Cody fell with a thud, rubbing his sore arms as the ghost looked to the plushie, floating onto the shelf like a seat. “You knew of this?” The plushie’s head fell forward slightly. “WHAT?! AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO TELL ME?! ...” They looked back to the intruders. “Hmmm, fine. The soul is yours. Now go home. You’ve made Penny upset with your grabbing and noise making.”

Milo helped Cody up and glanced at the ghost. “But Penny is-” The two were engulfed in a silver glow that levitated them, rocketing them both out the now open door, across the street, and onto Cody’s front yard. They both glanced to the house, seeing the door shut and the barely visible curtains close.

“Milo.”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s not go there again.”

“But-”

Cody left Milo on the grass, staring at the house of the ghost who stole his shark plushie.

“How am I going to explain this to Dan.”

[fundeadasylum]

This Photo of Us Part 3: Chase You Down Until You Love Me

A day late and a dollar short but here’s the third part. This is going to be quite the long fic but I’m not sure how long exactly. Sorry. 

Warnings: emotional distress, emotional abuse and manipulation, gaslighting, descriptions of panic attacks, imprisonment, suffering, dead dove: do not eat

Part 1 / Part 2

*******************

Jake’s car was in the driveway when Dan came home from his shift at the factory, but there was no sign of Jake himself in the house. This in and of itself was not unusual but when Milo told him he hadn’t seen Jake since before he’d left for school that morning, Dan got a little concerned.

He grew more concerned as the hours passed and rain started falling heavier. Milo, already sensing something was wrong, kicked up a fuss about going to bed at all and demanded to wait up for Jake. After some half hearted lecturing, he relented but only on the condition that Dan wake him the second Jake came home. Dan promised he would and sent the teenager to his bedroom, knowing full well that the boy would stay up as long as possible, listening for the front door and fervently texting Cody.

Dan fell asleep on the couch, waiting for the jingle of keys in the door lock that never came.

It was only in the morning that he realized Jake’s house and car keys--which shared a clip and a shark keychain--were hanging in their customary place by the door. Which meant Jake had left the house without his keys and the front door unlocked for who knew how long. Which was not like Jake Pierly at all. If Jake was anything, he was anxious and that anxiety fueled a mild state of paranoia that made sure he’d double check the locks on the doors and windows at night and when he left the house. Triple check on a bad day.

Dan knew Jake almost as well as he knew himself.

When he found Jake’s cellphone ringing to itself in his empty car, Dan felt something ice cold and nasty sink into his stomach.

It was with a heavy heart that he picked up his own phone to dial the police.

----

Milo wasn’t a stupid child.

Sure, he struggled to concentrate on things he didn’t care about in school, his attention was all over the place, and sitting still was a chore and a half. But he wasn’t stupid. He was quite clever when he wanted to be and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was happening around him.

Jake had disappeared.

He was gone, vanished like smoke in the wind. He had dropped off the face of the planet and no one knew where he’d gone to.

Just like Milo Sr.

Milo watched from his seat on the stairs as Dan talked to the couple of uniformed officers. Their voices were low and didn’t carry very well but once in a while he caught words or phrases from their conversation. He didn’t like what he heard. He couldn’t help but wonder if Dan had been through this once already when Milo’s real dad had gone missing. At least back then he’d had Jake to back him up. Now there was nobody.

With a stubborn sniff, Milo curled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs, burrowing his face into his hoodie sleeves. For as quiet and introverted as Jake tended to be, Milo could distinctly feel the hole left in the house without him. And it ached, it ached so fiercely Milo was sure he could feel it tearing him up from the inside out, physically ripping him open to spill everything he was out into the open for the world to see. It hurt worse than anything, even worse than finding out about his birth dad, and he just didn’t know what to do with the sheer amount of pain that he was absolutely certain was killing him slowly.

“Hey kid,” Milo glanced up through his bangs at a female cop who had come to perch on the stairs beside him, “It’s Milo, right? I’m Paige. You’re worried about your dad, huh?” She smiled at him and his eyes narrowed, “It’ll be okay, we’ll find him and he’ll be home before you--”

“Did you know that on average there are over one-hundred thousand active missing persons cases in the United States at any given time?” Milo’s tone was bitter and logically he knew lashing out at the officer wasn’t the solution, it wasn’t her fault. But the painful burn inside him needed an outlet and she’d given him one,

“Of those,” He continued, the memories of hours of research with Cody spinning around in his mind, “At least half are adults and adult missing persons are less likely to be solved. Last year almost five-hundred thousand missing persons cases were only solved because a body was found. So no offense lady,” He spat the words, sour and heated and stinging his tongue as he glared at her, “But you probably have a better chance of finding my dad dead then you do alive!”

He stood and whirled away, stomping up the stairs with his eyes burning and Dan shouting after him to come back and apologize to the officer. He ignored Dan and slammed the door to his room shut as hard as he could. He’d probably get in trouble for it later if Dan remembered to be mad at him, but Milo could care less. He only had one thing on his mind as he snatched his phone off the bed and swept it open.

(sent 2:14pm) i’m gonna look for jake. you in?

(received 2:15pm) Of course. Meet you out front.

Milo grabbed his backpack from the floor and dumped out his school things, quickly filling it with snacks from the stash in his desk, some medical supplies from the bathroom, and an extra jacket just in case. As an afterthought, he picked up a faded and much loved shark toy from his bed, one that Jake had given to him years ago, and tucked it safely into his bag as well. Then he pulled his hood up and headed down the stairs to the front door. The police were still standing around instead of actually doing anything and Milo scowled at them as he opened the door, letting in a gust of autumn air.

“Milo, where are you going?” Dan’s voice was weaker than Milo was used to hearing and he didn’t dare look because he knew if he saw the look on Dan’s face he wouldn’t be able to set one foot out the door.

“I’m gonna go look for Jake.”

“Young man, I would advise against that.” Said one officer and Milo bristled, hot anger surging in his chest.

“Screw you.” He hissed between clenched teeth and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

“Milo--!” Dan’s cry was cut off as Milo slammed the door shut and hunched his shoulders against the wind. Cody was already waiting for him, hands in his pockets, watching with something that wanted to be pity in his eyes.

Neither of them spoke as they both set off down the sidewalk towards town.

----

“Have you seen this guy? He’s my dad and he’s missing?”

“Excuse me, have you seen this man anywhere?”

“Hi, I’m looking for my dad, have you seen him recently?”

“He looks like this. He’s missing and we’re trying to find him.”

“Have you seen Jake Pierly?”

Milo slumped onto the bench under the covered pavillion in the center of the park. He looked lost and tired, like the life had been slowly draining out of him with every head shake or negative response.

No one had seen Jake.

“Do you think he left?” Milo asked softly, staring at the chipped cement beneath his sneakers, “Do you think it was something I did?”

“He didn’t leave,” Cody said firmly, “He wouldn’t. He cares about you and Dan too much. And he wouldn’t have left all his stuff there anyway.” He nudged his glasses up his nose, wearing a determined frown, “We’ll find him, Milo, I swear. I’m not gonna let you lose another dad.”

Milo hiccuped and angrily swallowed his tears. He didn’t want to cry, not yet. He felt like if he cried then he would be giving up. And no way in hell he was giving up on Jake, not yet, not ever. He knew, he just knew, Jake was out there and he needed help and Milo was going to save him. Because, damn it all, he needed Jake. Dan needed Jake. Their house was not a home without Jake’s quiet presence drifting through it.

“I want--” His voice broke and he had to swallow back the lump of emotion that was rising in his throat, “I wanted so badly to find my real dad. And n-now I feel like I...I feel like this is my fault.”

“Milo, this isn’t your fault!” Cody grabbed his friend’s shoulder, grounding and reassuring, pulling him into a one armed hug, “This isn’t your fault, okay! Whatever happens, it’s nobody’s fault.”

“You can’t know that!”

“But I know it’s not your fault!”

Milo looked up with watery eyes, searching Cody’s furiously determined expression. Cody’s lower lip was quivering and there was an uncertain fear in his gaze, but held Milo’s shoulders with the same steady hand that had had Milo’s back for years.

“Look, I--I know this is scary,” Cody said and his voice was remarkably steady, “And not good. But we’ll get through this. We’ll figure this out and Jake will come home and everything will be okay. It hasn’t even been 24 hours yet. We’re still okay. Say it back to me. Say it’s going to be okay.”

Milo swallowed thickly and said in a voice that wobbled with uncertain emotion,

“Everything is going to be okay.”

----

It had been three days.

Three days of Jake picking at the meals Rosie brought him, if only to keep his strength up. Three days of being subjected to her caring smiles and gentle touches. Three days of being stuck in a basement with nothing to do but stew on his own anger and try and find a way out. Three days of refusing to speak with her no matter what she said or did.

He didn’t know when she’d done but at some point Rosie had removed his button up shirt and casual slacks. She’d replaced them with a black t-shirt and tastefully faded jeans with holes in them. She’d also taken his shoes and socks away, leaving his bare feet to curl on the cold floor. There was a space heater that kept him warm enough but it was still a basement and it was still cold.

His only mercy was that he was left to wander the basement on his own. It wasn’t big but there was room to pace and he had a half bath to use should the need arise. She provided him with snacks (which he didn’t touch) and water (which he did), let him take his heart medicine every day, and promised him that good behavior would earn him more privileges. What those were, Jake didn’t really care. His only goal was to escape.

Of course the first thing he’d tried was the door that led to the stairs but it was heavy and locked from the other side and he had no way to pick it nor lever the bolts from the hinges. The half-bath had no windows and the cement around the pipes by the sink couldn’t be picked away at without tools or visible damage to his own hands.

Which only left the window that was a good two feet out of his reach.

Jake had attempted to drag the bed over to the opposite wall. But even as cheap as it was, it was still too much for him to move by himself, the hollow plywood scraping loudly on the cement and making Jake wince when he’d tried.

He sat on the edge of his bed and glared at the window, hooking one finger into the collar around his neck and giving it an anxious tug. He hated how quickly he’d become accustomed to it being there, a familiar, heavy weight that rested far too easily against his adam’s apple. It reminded him far too much of his brother’s favorite past time, of hands closing around his throat, of his breath choking in his lungs, of the black fuzz crawling at the edges of his vision and--

Jake forced himself to breathe.

His heart was pounding wildly in his chest, adrenaline making his hands shake. Panic. He swallowed hard, ducked his head, pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and rocked back and forth, breathing deeply. The room felt like it contracted around him with each inhale, and expanded outward again with each exhale and he furiously focused his thoughts on the feeling of cool cement under his feet and the subtle pain of the pressure on his eyes. When he’d settled down enough to think clearly, he blinked the stars from his vision and clenched his jaw.

“Fuck this.” He hissed, letting rage replace his fear, letting it burn hot and bright in his veins until he felt like his skin would burn.

Then he grabbed the edge of the bed and dragged it across the room to the window.

The exertion of it was almost too much. Jake collapsed onto the bed with a wheezing gasp, clutching at his chest as his heart thudded painfully under his ribs. He pressed his knuckles into his skin as if that would alleviate the choking agony that squeezed the small muscle inside him.

It felt as if he was laying there for an eternity before he was able to calm himself and breathe again. And then he listened for footsteps upstairs, for the sound of Rosie coming to hear what all the noise was about. She’d gone out several hours before and Jake had no idea when she’d be back. If she walked back in now, he was royally fucked.

No noise. The house was silent.

With a lopsided grin, Jake clambered up onto the bed and reached up to the window. He wrinkled his nose at the dust and dead bugs gathered on the lip of it but he readily ignored them to fumble with the latch. It was a bit of a struggle to twist it into the unlocked position but Jake felt a thrill of victory when he did. Even more so when he pushed the window open and got a breath of fresh air on his face. He sucked in a greedy lungful and shoved the window open further. It wasn’t enough and certainly Dan would never have been able to get through, but Jake thought he might be able to squeeze out if he didn’t mind a few scrapes.

Jake jumped up and clawed through the window, grabbing fistfuls of grass to help pull himself up. His bare feet scraped against the cement wall as he pulled and wriggled. He felt his stomach scrape painfully against the edge of the wall but gritted his teeth and ignored it. It was nothing, it was nothing, it meant nothing in the long run, not when he was breathing in fresh air and there was cold, autumn grass under his palms and he was almost out, his knees banging against the metal frame of the window and--

He was free.

Jake scrambled to his feet, curling his toes in the slowly dying grass, panting for breath as he took a moment to get his bearings. He was out, he was free, he had escaped! The collar might have a tracker on it but he could run. He could run and he could find someone and he could get help and there would be nothing Rosie could do to him. He’d be home, he’d be safe, he’d be with Dan and Milo and everything would be okay!

The crunch of gravel under tires sent a bolt of fear through him.

He should have been running already.

Jake bolted, lunging forward and nearly face planting in the dirt in his panic to get away. He ran for the treeline, knowing he could hide in the forest, knowing he could cut through it to get closer to town.

Agony surged down his neck and exploded out his chest.

With a strangled cry, he tumbled to the ground, hitting it so hard the air rushed out of his lungs. He couldn’t even scream; there was no air to power it and his throat was choked closed with pain. Drool smeared past his lips as his body jerked involuntarily in the grass, limbs twitching, his chest on fire with a crushing pain. He pawed helplessly at the ground in front of him with numb fingers jittering over dry leaves and hidden stones, choking as he tried to gasp through the spit pooling across his tongue, his teeth clenched tight like his jaw was wired shot, his nose and eyes burning as tears and snot streaked down his face.

He barely felt something close around his pant leg and pull him back, dragging him across the grass so his shirt rode up his chest.

But it made the pain stop.

Hands pushed him and he rolled over onto his back, still twitching, still trying to breathe. His heart was stuttering, he could feel it struggling like an old and broken car, and he opened his mouth to call for help, to beg for a hospital. But all that came out was a gargling, wet, choke of sound that made him gag. He couldn’t move, his muscles refused to cooperate, and the panic only made the agony of his fluttering heart worse. A noise that might have been a whimper wheezed out of him with a few more tears.

Rosie’s disappointed face filled his view as she leaned over him, her hair framing her face like a curtain of faded gold. Jake looked up at her with pleading, agonized eyes. She only sighed,

“Oh, my poor little problem son. You really shouldn’t have tried to run away. That collar’s got a tracker and it’s hooked to the underground electric fence around the edge of the property.” She tilted her head, piercings catching the light and glowing like a broken halo, “It’s on the lowest setting but I guess even that was too much for you, huh.”

Jake coughed through teeth that refused to unclench, vision smearing into blurs of color as a fresh wave of tears welled into his eyes. His chest ached, the stinging across his exposed stomach nothing compared to the raw steel sawing through his heart, his lungs, his ribs, his everything.

“This is your fault, you know,” Rosie knelt beside him, brushing her hand along his face and he gagged with revulsion, back arching as his stomach turned, “If you had just stayed put, none of this would have happened. I’m sorry that you made this decision, baby, but you have no one to blame but yourself.”

His eyelids fluttered, his breath a whisper of a rasp that scraped his throat. He couldn’t feel his fingers or his legs or anything but the hot touch of Rosie’s hands on his face. Through fading vision, he stared at her, begging for mercy from so many things.

He saw her smile sadly, pity shining in her eyes, pity and disappointment.

And then his heart stopped.

[themurphyzone]

Lucky Thirteen Ch 2

Cavendish has to tell Dakota something important. Too bad his nerves and the world are complicating matters.

Ch 2: Second Thoughts

Dakota yawned and hugged his pillow. He hated waking up early on the weekend and would be in bed for at least.another two hours. However, Cavendish was an early riser and was already dressed for the day (like Poor Richard, he believed it would make him healthy, wealthy, and wise). The ring box was tucked in Cavendish’s lapel, safe and secure from prying eyes. 

He hopped out of bed and made his choice. 

Cavendish tucked the receipt into his pocket and walked out the door. 

He couldn’t do it. 

Dakota could charm everyone with a sandwich in one hand and a cola in the other. 

Cavendish was just the guy who died. 

Like, a lot. 

His stomach grumbled, but Cavendish hushed it. “Jeweler’s first, then we’ll see about breakfast. Honestly, you’re as bad as Dakota.” 

If he’d come along, Dakota would have dragged him into the nearest Paul Bunyan’s for a breakfast burrito and coffee. 

Breakfast burrito. That’s breakfast inside of a burrito. 

Pigs in a blanket. That’s hot dogs sleeping inside a bread blanket. Hey, a brenket! Yeah, that’s a thing now. Cause I said it. 

“Get out of my head, Dakota,” Cavendish muttered. “You’re messing with a highly efficient and organized mind.”

Once the voice bearing an uncanny resemblance to the real-life Dakota was driven out, Cavendish opened the ring box. The rings were on the cheap end of the scale, but they still ate up a good portion of the month’s budget. 

Luckily for Cavendish, Dakota never paid attention to the budget chart. He was usually more interested in the area Cavendish had deemed ‘Money for the Snackhound’s Appetite’. 

He hadn’t initially planned on using actual rings either. 

It was a run-in with Milo and Sara at the grocery store that convinced him otherwise. Sara was extra-vehement at his decision to use edible fruit-flavored candy rings instead, and she was not taking the ‘it’s way cheaper’ excuse. 

You can’t substitute mass-produced neutron bracelets for the one-of-a-kind Lazuli Kingdom bracelets, Sara had protested indignantly. 

According to Milo, she was just quoting Dr. Zone Episode 22: Jewel of the Earth, so her perception of romance probably wasn’t realistic. 

Still, they hadn’t left him alone until they were absolutely positively certain that he wasn’t going to propose to Dakota with a generously sized hunk of sugar. 

The jeweler wasn’t far now. He just had to cross the street to get there.

Are you sure you want to do this? a voice asked. You spent the past few months gathering your nerves, and now you’re just tossing it out on a whim? And what exactly are you going to tell Milo and Sara? They sacrificed their time to help with the ring selection, the least you could do is follow through. 

“I’ll tell them Dakota said no,” Cavendish retorted, drawing attention from passersby. He ignored them, slipping the ring box into his pocket to avoid the curious stares. “You’re making it harder than it actually is.” 

Pot calling the kettle black.

“Oh, be quiet. I know what I’m doing, thank you,” Cavendish muttered. He thumped his forehead in an effort to get the nagging voice out of his mind, and the receipt dropped from his hand. The paper fluttered down to the crosswalk. 

“I’m having a crisis here. The least you could do is cooperate,” Cavendish told the paper. 

As he bent down to pick it up, a cacophony down the street drew his attention. People screamed and ran for their lives, a car crashed into a fire hydrant, and a motorbike with two people swerved to avoid traffic, dragging a colossal dinosaur made of ham behind them with a bungee cord. 

Cavendish scrambled out of their way, avoiding the wheels of the motorbike, but a sharp hit to the gut cut off his air supply and left him wheezing. Something knocked him off his feet and he tripped into a squishy and meaty wall. 

Dakota didn’t know Cavendish’s whereabouts. He would still be asleep, lost in some faraway dreamland where bars of chocolate served as transportation and rivers were made of chunky salsa. 

Cavendish would die in this hammy tomb, and they had no method to travel back a few minutes to prevent it. 

Wait, ham?

His vision returned, and Cavendish realized he wasn’t dead. 

Well, duh. No civilization in history claimed heaven smells like ham. Well, maybe the Island Dakotas would say otherwise, but they’ve never been a conventional sort. 

On the bright side, his internal organs hadn’t been displaced.

Cavendish crawled out from the wreckage of the ham dinosaur, wrinkling his nose at the ham-scented fluid that clung to his suit. The smell reminded him of Lard World, and not in a good way.

“Can’t you wait until I’ve had breakfast before you try to kill me?” Cavendish griped as he rushed back to the crosswalk, desperate to find the receipt he’d dropped.

He only found three measly scraps, and the other pieces had long scattered to the wind. 

He could still salvage the situation. Run into a store, request receipt paper, make a forgery. As long as he got the price right, there shouldn’t be an issue. 

Yeah, it was totally a foolproof plan. 

“You’re Cavendish, right? One of Milo’s friends?” a voice behind him asked.

Cavendish yelped, jumping away from the man and clutching his chest in shock. His back hit the curb of the sidewalk, making him groan in pain. 

“Great Scott, are you trying to kill me?” Cavendish spat once his brain worked again. The man before him looked vaguely familiar, though it didn’t click until he saw the brown cowlick. Right, they played that hodgepodge board game together on the day he and Dakota were trying to close the deadly vortex above Milo Murphy’s home. He racked his brain, trying to recall a conversation where Milo had mentioned his parents. “You’re...Marlin?”

A nearby manhole opened, revealing Danville’s resident underground lunatic. “I, Scott, the master of Subterranous in all her garbagey glory, answer to your summons, Overlander! Who would you like me to trap in the sewers for the next 48 hours?” 

“Not every ‘Great Scott’ is an incantation to summon you,” a woman sighed, pushing the manhole on Scott’s head until he disappeared beneath the surface. 

“Okay, I get the message! Mildred and I have important stuff to do anyway!” Scott called. 

“Anyway, it’s Martin. And that’s Brigitte for future reference,” the man corrected as he helped Cavendish up. “You got clotheslined by that bungee cord pretty good. Are you okay?” 

Cavendish brushed the gravel off his suit, though he knew it would take a trip to the laundromat to get the fabric back into pristine condition. “I’ve had worse. Don’t worry.”

Then he noticed the helmets Martin and Brigitte carried. “Were you the drivers of that motorbike?” he asked, gesturing to the upturned vehicle. A bungee cord was caught in its back tires, leading to the fallen ham dinosaur a few feet away. 

Brigitte laughed nervously. “That was me. I found my old motorbike from an extreme motocross race I did back when I was a college student and fixed it up. The gas pedal was touchier than I thought and Martin’s sleeve got caught in the second seat while he was getting breakfast.” 

“I picked the right day to wear a motorcycle helmet in the kitchen,” Martin added. “Sorry about that.” 

“It’s fine,” Cavendish said as he brushed past them. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to forge a receipt so I can return a pair of rings to the jeweler’s.” 

“I’m going to ignore the bit about forging a receipt,” Brigitte said slowly. “But did you mean these rings by any chance?”

She fished out a familiar ring box from her pocket. 

Cavendish took the box gratefully, annoyed at himself for having missed such a crucial object. His plan would’ve fallen apart at the seams if he’d lost the rings. 

“How come you’re going back on your engagement?” Martin asked. 

“I-we...Dakota and I aren’t engaged!” Cavendish stammered. Were Milo’s parents always this nosy? “Where did you even find these rings?” 

Brigitte shrugged. “Found ‘em after the bike overturned. They fell out of your pocket.” She returned the box, and Cavendish secured it inside a pocket that had a button flap. 

The most logical reason of course. 

“Milo and Sara mentioned that they went to the jeweler’s with you a few weeks ago,” Martin remarked. “They were really excited for you. Especially Milo. He called you his weird but cool uncles that one only meets in family reunions.” 

It was awfully hard not to preen at Milo’s good words. The boy didn’t have a mean bone in his body. 

While Cavendish was fully capable of finding flaws with everything that existed in their universe, he still couldn’t air a single grievance against Milo Murphy.  

“Anyhoo,” Cavendish coughed before the conversation entered further awkward territory. “I should really be going. Besides, Dakota could be waking up any minute now.” 

“Does Dakota know?” Brigitte asked. 

“I think-um, no. No, he doesn’t know I have these. Unless he went snooping, and I wouldn’t put it past him,” Cavendish admitted. 

Brigitte raised an eyebrow. “I meant, have you told him how you feel yet? 

Prying woman! 

Before Cavendish could snap, deny, refute, or utter a curt goodbye, Martin’s phone emitted the chorus of Chop Away at My Heart. 

“Ah, could we put this conversation on hold?” Martin asked sheepishly. 

How about indefinitely? Cavendish bit back.

Martin tapped a green circle and held the phone to his ear. “Hello? Oh, it’s you,” he sighed. He looked completely and utterly done with life. 

At Cavendish’s questioning glance, Brigitte mouthed Doofenshmirtz, her fists clenching in irritation. 

Cavendish found himself oddly grateful for the man’s interference though. Spared him from arguing his rationale for returning the rings. 

Martin’s eyebrows flew up in shock. “No, I didn’t give you permission to turn the oven into an Escape Pod-inator!” 

Doofenshmirtz said something that Cavendish couldn’t make out. 

“For the last time, vending machines aren’t plotting to take over Kansas! What would they even rule there-ugh, forget it. Just forget it. I’m not dealing with this. No, I’ll handle the cleanup. You find something else to do that doesn’t involve exploding appliances.” 

Martin hung up, muttering something very unkind about couch-crashing pharmacists. 

Doofenshmirtz is Professor Time. Professor Time’s rumored to have dated the strangest things. If we can’t return the rings, we get his help for your proposal. 

“I didn’t say I was proposing!” Cavendish protested, much to Brigitte and Martin’s surprise. He rubbed his neck awkwardly. “Er...sorry. I just had the most peculiar idea where Professor Time-that is to say, the guy crashing in your home...helped me with-ah, my dilemma.” 

Martin’s face broke into a wide grin. “You’ll really do that? Doof will be tagging along with you for a while?” 

Brigitte elbowed him sharply. 

“Ow, your joints hurt,” Martin said, rubbing his side gingerly. “What I meant to say is that it’s great you’re reconsidering and asking someone you think can help you out.” 

Well, it can’t hurt to try one more terrible idea that’s sure to backfire with all the force of a nuclear explosion. 

Cavendish logic is way too much fun I swear. 

[lissaremade]

alek’s backstory

i post a lot about my dnd character, alek, so here’s his entire backstory up until the very end of the campaign

it’s gonna be ONE HELL of a long read because A LOT has happened over the course of his backstory and the campaign, so heads up this will be EXTRAORDINARILY TEXT HEAVY

this will be focused on alek’s arc for the most part! the campaign has a lot more going on in it, lots of character arcs, lots of small details and lots of worldbuilding.

(PICTURED: the first ever reference i drew of alek, drawn over a year ago)

alek desona was the first dnd character i ever made. he’s a firesoul genasi sorcerer who’s lawful neutral. he has four siblings: two older brothers (arun and ciro) and one younger sister (luce). his parents are named roshan and kamara; they the leaders of the genasi clan they live in. 

(PICTURED: my very first reference of milo)

milo soryn, another oc of mine, has a backstory very much intertwined with alek’s. the same age as alek, and an only child, his parents were merchants who traveled around the continent selling goods. about once a month they stopped by alek’s community, which is how the two met at a pretty early age. 

milo and alek are pretty much the childhood friends into lovers trope. alek considers milo his closest and most trusted friend, and milo feels the same.

when they were 18, milo was drafted into a war against a neighboring country full of dwarves. not wanting milo to go alone, alek followed him to ensure he stayed safe.

they fought together as foot soldiers until they were both 22, when milo was killed in combat, protecting alek from an oncoming attack. alek lost control of his powers after being overcome by grief, and razed the entire battlefield, leaving behind nothing but himself and a broken sword - the very sword used to kill milo. 

ashamed, he immediately fled the scene, never looking back. 

he traveled around for a bit before running into two half-elf men called rufus and roy at the bees and brambles tavern. there, he met the people who he would travel with for the course of the campaign. they were assigned a mission to retrieve an artifact from none other than a goblin brothel. 

(PICTURED: art by @kay-o of, from left to right, rosamythe, daegal and alek)

other player characters in the campaign include:

daegal, a tiefling ranger

rosamythe, a half elf cleric

batholomew “spudman”, a human bard

khepri, a dragonborn rogue

after some shenanigans in the brothel, and running into a mysterious cultist named miss princey, they manage to retrieve the artifact. but, are forced to fight their way out. alek gets the finishing blow on the boss, but after the fight ends miss princey, the cultist, murders a goblin named bluechest seemingly in cold blood, claiming he had betrayed the cult. 

our cleric, rosamythe, who was drunk at the time, decided to immediately enact revenge by killing miss princey, sending her body hurtling off a cliff. a small puff of white energy left her body as it fell, rising into the air. we thought nothing of this, until we were receiving our promised payment when everything went black.

and that was the story of how we survived the ending of our first world.

(the rest will be VERY shortened to save space btw)

basically, we were tasked with finding and killing the guardians of the world at first, after running into a guardian posing as the god deneir and basically brainwashing his followers. we were able to kill him because spudman impulsively killed an old lady who told him he had to kill her because she wasn’t supposed to exist. (we later found out that the only way to kill a guardian is to first kill someone who isn’t supposed to exist)

daegal’s brother/uncle (it’s complicated) waegal appeared on behalf of daeg’s demon grandfather, varius. he started to fuck shit up in the capital, pretty much brainwashing people by telling them everything was fake and nothing was actually real. 

along the way, shortly after arriving at the capital and shortly before shit started hitting the fan, alek was turned into an ash genasi by some wind elementals because we tried to threaten the captain of a ship who was part of an underground organization. (we later joined said organization but that’s another story)

after killing the guardian, we decided to follow a map alek received in a special christmas one-shot where we were transported to the town of christmas to help restore holiday cheer. the map provided insight to a way alek might be able to become a fire genasi again.

while en route, waegal appeared again in front of the ship. after provoking him, he cast fireball on the ship. alek realized his map was still inside the cabin of the ship, so he ran for it at the last minute. while he was running, time slowed down for him and he heard a voice inside his head asking him if he could have one wish, what would it be?

so he responded “for things to go back to the way they were in the past.”

CUE SAD ALEK ONE-SHOT THAT MADE ME CRY A LOT

alek was suddenly transported back to his childhood home. he was the same age, however, and all his siblings appeared to have aged accordingly as well. he found out milo was coming around to visit. 

it turns out that there was a surprise - milo’s family would be staying in the town, meaning they could spend all their time together. something was fishy about this however. and upon confronting milo about the strangeness of the circumstance, milo got a little aggressive. 

eventually, this escalated and it became very clear that something wasn’t right here. carrying a fire orb alek needed to return back to the “real” world, milo turned into a wind genasi, and alek was forced to fight him. 

not wanting to harm him, alek turned invisible and tried to grab it from him. (i’m pretty sure i rolled a 2 and our dm rolled a 1 when i tried to do this lmao)

alek was forced to come to terms with the fact that he couldn’t un-do the past, and that milo was gone for good. and by turning his back on this fantasy world, he was accepting that milo was gone and letting go of the past. i cried a lot during this whole encounter ok

eventually, he found out that this was all the doing of a genie who had granted alek’s wish to go back to the way things were. the version of milo was a guardian, and alek was able to defeat it because the genie ceased to exist (since genies aren’t supposed to exist in the world)

/END SAD ALEK ONE-SHOT THAT MADE ME CRY A LOT

upon returning to the real world, we traveled through the desert, following the map alek received. we came across a phoenix namyed alcatraz who turned out to be the ancestor of all genasi. (in our campaign, genies aren’t the source of all genasi, but phoenix are) 

by using the last of his power as well as the fire orb milo had held (which he still had when he woke up), alek was turned back into a spicy fire boy.

we fled the desert after a bunch of demons appeared from the sky, and after some travel through a forest where daegal and rosamythe were put on the spot for backstory stuff (we found out daegal killed rosamythe’s dad under the influence of varius, his demon grandpa) we were forced to fight varius. eventually the final blow was dealt by some mysterious beings who appeared from the sky. 

with varius gone, we moved on and eventually ran into none other than aboran, the town we appeared in. except we were in the old world, and aboran had previously been in the new world. the two worlds were somehow merging.

we had to rescue our half dead npc son, lance, from a dragon who hoards souls. during the fight with the dragon, milo’s soul, which was taken by the dragon and in its lair, helped us out A LOT by inflicting an exponential amount of damage on the dragon and then pulling a mipha’s grace on alek by reviving him to 1hp when he got ko’d by the dragon’s last desperate attack

after that shit REALLY started hitting the fan, as the world around us began to end in itself. robots invaded, and all the people who had survived the end of the original world began becoming possessed by the god rahat, who we found out had created the very world we were in but was unhappy because we all forgot about him. 

after hearing about the fact that a queen from the old world was possessed and we had to take her down, we traveled there where we ran into none other than alek’s brother ciro, daegal’s mom, and another character from daegal’s backstsory. ciro told alek that the rest of the family was dead - after the world ended, their mother hadn’t stopped aging like everyone else and passed on due to old age. luce, their youngest sister, had become possessed and killed their older brother, father, and milo’s parents, before ciro was forced to kill her. he then left, and ended up traveling with his companions.

(this was originally intended to be much darker, as our dm, josh, had planned for us to have to fight a possessed luce at some point had the campaign gone on as long as it was originally supposed to)

we killed the queen, but then were forced to flee to an alternate version of reality (”what the world really looked like” apparently) in order to save the ending world. upon entering this alternate version of reality, everyone else we knew was killed in the onslaught of enemies which overwhelmed the world.

we were transported quite a bit after that, ending up in the tavern we originally started our campaign’s journey in - the bees and brambles tavern. the world around us was gone. nothing was left. thus, we had survived our second world ending.

we were forced to confront the god rahat, in the form of the fused form of roy and rufus, the half elves who had given us our original quest that brought us together. angry and feeling betrayed by the people he had created from himself, we managed to calm him down and convince him to restore the world to its previous state.

BUT THEN bosharifal, rahat’s godly brother, busted in, angrily confronting us about stealing his brother from him. we managed to get the two to talk, however, and bosharifal realized how unwanted rahat felt back in their home, since no one worshiped him anymore. 

with this all settled, the gods decided to allow the world to exist, and all the people in it to exist as more than just parts of the god rahat, but as their own people with their own lives and journeys. all the dead were brought back to life, and our characters were able to live their lives in peace with their loved ones.

at this point, we were told to say goodbye to our characters, and goodbye to roleplaying them because their lives were their own now. we couldn’t control their destinies anymore. everyone was crying. i was like full on sobbing. they thanked us for bringing them to their happy ends, and the campaign ended. 

the end

[halfbackblue-blog]

Voltron- Atlantis the Lost Empire AU  ~Part 2~

Ahh its finally here! Apologies for taking so long, I started school and my schedule got all messed up so it took some time to readjust. But it’s here! I really hope you enjoy and any comments or love would be much appreciated. 

Keith was hardly able to scribble a small note on a napkin for Shiro telling him he’ll be home late before Haggar dragged him out. Keith tried to ask questions that might give him some insight to where he is going or who is Haggar’s employer.

Haggar simply said they were going to her employer. Where is your employer? Not far. Who is your employer? You’ll see. How long will I be there? Depends. She answered each question with a cool and monotone voice. Not much of a conversationalist, but neither was Keith, so he stopped asking questions and focused his attention to the grey landscape flashing by.

Keith must have drifted off at some point, waking to the car abruptly coming to a stop. Glancing out the window Keith saw they were parked outside of a mansion, easily the same size of the museum. Keith’s mouth hung open letting out a soundless ‘Woah’.

Haggar opened her door. “Let’s go pretty boy,” She taunted walking towards the mansion entrance.

“Hey!” growled Keith, cheeks flushed. Haggar only smirked walking into the extravagant inside. Keith followed in after Haggar, ignoring how quickly his jacket became soaked in the downpour.

Keith’s mouth hung in awe upon entering the mansion. Aside from the unnecessarily large fire place and ridiculously tall ceiling, ancient artifacts of all sorts hung on every inch of the wall while other items were carefully displayed on shelves or tables. Keith spun in circles trying to catch a glimpse of all the artifacts. Haggar kept walking, not caring if he was following or not.

“This way!” she snapped

Keith stumbled forward, still looking at the countless items hanging around. Mindlessly he took off his dripping coat, holding it in his arms.

“Do not drip on the Caravaggio” Haggar said waving her hand dismissively at his wet coat draped over his arm. “Step lively.” She ordered. “Mr. Kolivan does not like to be kept waiting.” She added more softly stepping into a caged elevator at the end of the end of the room. Keith slipped into the elevator at the last second before the doors clicked behind the two of them.

Haggar stepped in front of Keith skimming her fingers through his messy bangs, tucking long stands behind his ear. She moved to his shirt, smoothing out any wrinkles, straightening the sleeves, and folding his shirt collar back down. Anything to make a bit more presentable than he currently was. “You will address him as Mr. Kolivan or Sir. You will stand unless told to be seated. Do not anger him, keep your sentences short and to the point, are we clear?”

He nodded, hearing only half of the instructions that came at him rapid fire. The caged elevator doors opened, Keith stepped out paying he didn’t screw this up, whatever this was.

“And relax,” Haggar purred pulling the doors shut, “He doesn’t bite. Often.” The doors clicked shut and Keith was alone.

Much like the entrance this room was filled of Just like the entrance this room was filled with all sorts of knick-knacks, although these items seemed to be more personal, Keith saw several framed newspapers and pictures hanging on the wall. A large painting that hung over the fire place caught his eye. It was his Grandfather standing alongside another man who Keith did not recognize. “Grandpa?”

Keith could relax slightly knowing that this Kolivan person wasn’t a stranger. At least not to his family…

“Yes. One of the finest explores I have ever met.” A gruff voice behind him said. Keith turned around and saw the other man from the painting. Like the painting his white hair behind his ears stubbornly stood up, and his long braid hung neatly over his shoulder. The suit that was worn in the painting was replaced with a simple black tee and long loose pants, holding a fencing saber out in front of him pointing at his dummy opponent. He spoke without ever breaking his focus on his forever still foe.

“You must be young Kogane.” With incredible speed, he parried an invisible blow and lunged at the dummy, his sword bending as it impaled the chest.

Keith nodded, “Yes sir.”

Pulling his saber out from the dummy he faced Keith, placing his hand over his chest he bowed slightly. “Kolivan Whitmore. A pleasure to finally meet you.” Keith noticed a long scar over Kolivan’s right eye, he tried not to stare but couldn’t help to wonder where it came from.

He gestured to a rack full of fencing sabers, “Care to spar?”

Keith winced at the thought of sparing with Kolivan. Not only did he know nothing about fencing he was certain he would be killed in the first ten seconds… “Ah no thank you Sir.” Kolivan nodded before returning to his stance continuing to go through many forms.

“Did you really know my Grandfather?” Keith asked.

Kolivan hummed, “Yes. We met in Georgetown for college, class of sixty-six. We remained close friends until his final days,” He lunged at the dummy again, his saber a mere inch away from contact “he even brought me along on several of his ‘adventures’. Men would often compare his madness to fruit bat.” Kolivan expressionless face cracked with a grin. “He spoke of you and your brother many times.” Half-brother Keith muttered silently.

“Funny. He never mentioned you. Ever.” Keith said. Almost accusingly.

If Kolivan noticed Keith’s sharp tone he did not show it. He walked back and took is ready stance once more. “Well, he always knew how much I liked to keep a low-profile.”

Keith quirked an eyebrow. “Right.”  How was having a mansion and owning any artifact a museum doesn’t a low-profile?

“I presume you and Shiro are well.”

Keith shrugged, “We’re doing fine.” Kolivan nodded and went through another form. Keith watched. Every step, every block, every feint, towards the invisible opponent irritated him. Why bother to ask to spar if he was just going to do it anyways. If the dummy wasn’t going to attack he would.

“Sir should I be wondering why I’m here?” Keith asked, holding back every drop of irritation from leaking into his voice.

Kolivan spoke with his eyes fixed on his opponent, “Look on the table.” Keith wasn’t as satisfied with his victory as he thought he would be, but did what he was told. On the empty table behind Kolivan laid a very plain looking package, tied only with straw twine. Keith walked over to the package.

“It’s for you.”

                               For: Milo

                               With love

                                               Thace Thaddeus Thatch

It was written in his Grandfather’s ridiculously neat handwriting. Keith rubbed his eyes making sure he was seeing it correctly. It’s been almost a year now since his Grandfather’s death there is no way it could be from him.

“From my Grandfather?” Keith asked. His face a reflection of his own confusion.

Kolivan set his saber carefully next to the others, “He brought that to be many years ago. Instructing me that if anything were to happen to him I should give it to you when you were ready.” Grabbing his towel Kolivan wiped the sweat from his face, “Never knew that meant, but I figured you are as ready now as you’ll ever be.” He added quietly.

Keith pulled away the cheap brown paper to reveal a book. It took Keith a moment to realize what he was holding. At first glance, it was a simple leather-bound book reinforced along the sides and the spine by beautifully aged copper. On the center of the cover was a jagged swirl with a dot in the center, most would mistake it as a decorative marking or a symbol of sorts, not even consider it to be a letter. An Altean letter.

Keith’s eyes widened, “It can’t be…” He traced his fingers over the Altean letter on the front, “It’s the Paladins Journal.” Keith turned to face Kolivan, “Sir do you know what this is? This is the key to find the lost city of Altea!” This is what changes everything.

Kolivan chuckles, waving his hand dismissively, “Just a child’s tale,” hanging his towel over a chain he slips behind an old changing screen “nothing more.”

Keith was too absorbed in the journal to care, “It’s all here,” he muttered, “There are coordinates. Clues! I-it’s all right here!”

“Pah! It’s gibberish. Useless.”

Keith was flipping through the pages, quickly skimming over them. “No no. It’s a dead language, I’ve been studying dead languages before I could walk. It’s not gibberish, it’s just… difficult.” He could not wait until he could fully translate the text.

Kolivan walked out from behind the screen wearing a clean black suit with a dark purple dress shirt underneath along with a heavily decorated cane. As before his braid hung neatly over his shoulder. “It is probably fake.” he said. Every word slow and calculated.

Keith slammed the book shut, regaining his composure before he turned to face Kolivan. Had this man not just given him the only pathway to find the lost city he would have lost it, all his anger overflowing into a fury of rage. “Sir,” Keith gritted out just as slowly and carefully as he, “my Grandfather, your friend, would have known if this were a fake. I would know if it were a fake!”

Keith didn’t know how to convince him. He didn’t know what words to use to emphasize the importance of it. He didn’t know how to say how his Grandfather knew it was real, how Keith knew it was real. He felt like he was talking to the Museum board all over again.

Keith grabbed a fistfull of hair as his stomach tied itself into knots. “It’s real! I would stake anything that own- everything I believe in that this is the genuine Paladins Journal.”

He expected Kolivan’s eyes to be hard and stubborn, unwilling to believe. Just like everyone else’s, but they weren’t. They were almost expressionless, but his amber eyes glinted and the corner of his lip twitched upwards. He was… pleased?

Before Keith could read anymore of his expression Kolivan turned away throwing his hands up in a mock surrender. He took a seat at the end of a long table, gesturing for Keith to take a seat at the other end. “Alright. What will you plan to do with it?”

“I’ll-uh get funding.” Keith said. Taking a seat. “T-The museum. I’ll tell them.”

“They will not believe you.” His voice low and unforgiving.

“I’ll make them.” Keith snapped, “I will prove it- I will make them believe.”

“Like you did today, young one?”

“Ye- What?! No! How do you kn-” Keith didn’t want to know how Kolivan of all people knew. “Never mind. Forget about it.” Keith growled, shoving his hands in his pockets. Kolivan raised an eyebrow.

“You know what. I will find Altea on my own. I’ll rent a rowboat if I have to!”

Slowly a grin crept onto Kolivan’s face, his grey eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Congratulation Keith,” The words dripped like molasses from his mouth, “that is exactly what I wanted to hear.”

Keith stared for a moment, more confused than anything. What was he talking about.

“You can forget your rowboat,” he grinned, pressing a small button on the side of the table. The whole table collapsed inward making room for the platform rising from the center. There were little display models of trucks, different boating materials and an expedition class submarine. “We’re going to be traveling in style.”

Keith stared at the little wax replicas, picking up the little zeppelin for inspection.

“It has all been arranged” Kolivan said proudly, slapping his hand on Keith’s back. “For years your Grandfather would talk my ear off about that book. I never believed any of it for a minute. So, one day he and I made…We made a bet.” Kolivan walked over to a small table and picked up a small picture, “I said ‘Thace, if you ever find that so called Journal, not only will I finance the expedition but I’ll kiss you full on the mouth!”

Kolivan tilted the picture for Keith to see. “This is my embarrassment when he found the damn thing.”

Both Kolivan and his Grandfather were in the picture, his Grandfather with the Paladins Journal in hand. Kolivan was wiping his mouth with his sleeve while his Grandfather looked like he was gagging. Keith smiled, how this photographer was able to capture this was beyond him, seeing his Grandfather so relaxed was refreshing to Keith. It was that splash of color amongst the usual stoic version he always seemed to remember.

Kolivan set the picture back down slowly walking towards the raging fire pit, standing in front of the large painting of his Grandfather and Kolivan.

“Now, I know your Grandfather is gone Keith.” he said softly, “May his soul rest. But I am a man who keeps his word! Can you hear me Thatch! I’ll rest with no regrets!” Kolivan said it as if he was on top of a building screaming for the world to hear, his arms out and cane pointing at Thace.

Keith watched Kolivan take his cane down from the picture with a heavy sigh, followed by sad silence filling the room. The fire flickered and shadows danced against the walls while Kolivan stood there, his head hanging low.

Comforting people was never a strong trait in Keith. He was always awkward and ended up saying the wrong thing. So, Keith tried to always avoid the touchy-feely situations, but seeing Kolivan mourn his long passed friend- his grandfather- broke his heart.

Keith walked towards Kolivan until he was just next to him. No one said anything.

“Your Grandfather was great man,” Kolivan finally whispered, “You probably don’t know great. Those fools at the museum dragged him down, made a laughingstock out of him. He died a broken man.” he sighed. “If I could just bring back just one shred of proof of Altea, that’d be enough for me.”

Kolivan’s head remained lowered as if he were giving a moment of silence to his friend. After some time, Keith decided that he might need to be comforted, Shiro always reminded Keith to be conscious of other people’s feelings. To ‘read the room’. Just as he was going to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder Kolivan’s head shot up. Any grief that he once held seemed to melt away, replaced with bright eyes and a determined grin.

“Well we cannot waste time standing around. We have work to do!” Kolivan declared.

Keith jumped at his sudden change in behavior, becoming more confused by the second. He was on Kolivan’s heels as walked towards the large table scattered with the little replicas.

“Sir, if we’re going to do this we’re gonna need a crew!” Keith pointed out curtly. Wondering if he really knew what he was getting into.

“Done.” he replied swiftly, tapping his cane against a stack of papers on his desk.

“We need Engineers and Geologists.”

Kolivan picked up the top few folders of the stack and tossed them in front of Keith, their contents leaking out allowing Keith to catch a glimpse of the insides. “Only the best of the best.” he said smoothly.

“Hunk Garret; Best Engineering Geologist out there and trained as a certified doctor. Pidge Gunderson; the expeditions lead tech and mechanical expert. Don’t let her age fool you, she knows her way around an engine better than any man could, and has temper about as bad as one too. Matthew Holt; busted him out of a Galra prison, demolitions and communications.” Kolivan opened the folders, briefly summarizing each person.

Pulling a report out of a folder Keith began to read over the person.

“All a part of the same team who brought that journal back.” Kolivan said.

“Where was it?” Keith asked through a smirk. He was sure his theory was correct about that journals location, Keith wanted the confirmation. Even if it was to only have something to shove in Iverson’s face.

Kolivan threw down a picture an older man in the center was holding the journal in front of him, several men and women surrounded him, his Grandfather included, all beaming with pride. “Iceland.”

Keith lept in the air, “Yes! I knew it! I knew it was there! I-” His excitement was replaced with embarrassment as Kolivan looked down at him, an amused expression splayed across his face. Kolivan walked over to his chair and took a seat.

“We have our crew, now, all we need is an expert in gibberish.” he said, “It’s decision time Keith. You can either build off the foundation that your grandfather left you, or you can go back to your boiler room.”

Keith picked up the picture of the crew with the journal, struggling to wrap his mind around this all. His day started with disappointment followed by all his work and dreams thrown away by the museum board. Now? Every opportunity he could ever possibly wish for are all waiting on a silver platter.

Keith flopped into the chair across from Kolivan, “This is really happening.” he muttered combing his hand through his hair, “I mean this- this is for real!”

Kolivan nodded, “Ah, you are finally catching on.”

It was like last minute packing in his mind as a list began to form of everything he’ll need to do.

                               Start at the top of the list:

“Ok I’ll need to quit my job.”

“Done. You resigned this afternoon.”

“I-I did?” asked Keith.

“Yes. I don’t like leaving loose ends.”

Keith shrugged, no big deal. He crossed out item number one.

                               Number two:

“My apartment. Shiro!” Item two and a half…  “I’ll have to give notice, a-and tell Shiro! He’ll have to rent out my space or find somewhere else to live!” How could he forget Shiro! In that moment Keith felt like the worst brother ever.

“Taken care of. Shiro has been informed and is coming with us. His military and mining experience will be valuable.”

“He’s coming with us?” Keith doesn’t recall seeing his information anywhere.

“Of course,” Kolivan said. “Who would I be to tear a family apart.”

Inside he had a feeling it was a request from his Grandfather. While Shiro was only his half-brother and came into Keith’s life later on his Grandfather treated him like his own child. Shiro only knew his Grandfather for two years before he passed.

Keith crossed out the second item.

                               Number three, four and five.

“My clothes?”

“Packed.”

“My books?”

“In storage.”

“My cat?”

Chester meowed behind him, jumping onto Keith’s lap purring. Keith held the orange cat close, “My gosh.”

               Number three, four and five.

This man truly works miracles.

Keith gently set Chester down as Kolivan walked over with the Paladins Journal in hand, “Your Grandfather had a saying; ‘Our lives are remembered by the gifts we leave our children,” Kolivan handed the book to Keith, “this Journal is his gift to you Keith.”

Keith looked down at the Journal the back at Kolivan, who was smiling softly and his amber eyes warm and welcoming. “Altea is waiting.”

This was real. This was real! He was going to find Altea! He was going on an expedition with an actual crew to find Altea! With the Paladins Journal in one hand and his jacket in the other Keith stood up, his hand outstretched to Kolivan, “Sir, count me in.”

I know I never mentioned Keith’s cat but his cat’s name is Chester. So if you are confused at all Chester is the cat.

Shiro and the squad in the next chapter! Whoop Whoop! Then Lance!

Again, any love or comments are greatly appreciated. (*cough* Beta position is still open *cough*)

[obsidianmagpie]

38. CAMPING OR INDOORS?

1. PICK ONE OF YOUR MUSES.

2. FILL IN THE QUESTIONS/STATEMENTS AS IF YOU ARE BEING INTERVIEWED FOR AN ARTICLE AND YOU WERE YOUR MUSE.

3. TAG TEN PEOPLE TO DO THIS MEME

Tagged: @usaagent hi.

Tagging: @clovisxbrowning @warrioroflondonbelow @lincolnclayiisms

@telepathicmouse

AND ANYONE ELSE WHO WANTS TO DO THIS!!

1. WHAT IS YOUR NAME?

“It’s Dana. Dana Glass.”

2. WHAT IS YOUR REAL NAME?

“That’s what it is. If you want the full name it’s Dana Rene Sakurai. 

3. DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU WERE CALLED THAT?

“Well, My stepdad gave me my middle name after his great-great-grandmother Rene. Sakurai is my mother’s last name, but I took on my Stepdad’s instead, because his family had a lot of strong women throughout the time, starting with Rene. So why not be a part of that?”

4. ARE YOU SINGLE OR TAKEN?

“Right now I’m single. Might change over time though we’ll see.”

5. HAVE ANY ABILITIES OR POWERS?

“I can read minds and fly with wings too. There’s also the whole manifesting a sword kind of deal. I lost my arm, but that got replaced with some kind of shadowy matter. So nothing interesting. It’s kinda boring, to be honest.” 

6. STOP BEING A MARY SUE.

“Hey, I just said my powers were boring, I wish I had one thing you know.”

7. WHAT’S YOUR EYE COLOR?

“Black. But I’ve been told they have blue rings inside them.”

8. HOW ABOUT YOUR HAIR COLOR?

“Eh, black too, but the front part is white now. Should probably get that dyed now.”

9. HAVE YOU ANY FAMILY MEMBERS?

“Yup! There’s my mom Nagato, my stepdad Jack and my stepbrother Milo. My biological Dad was Kouta...I didn’t get to meet him, he died before I was born to put it that way....”

10. OH? WHAT ABOUT PETS?

“If I was gonna get a dog...Maybe either a pit bull or a sphynx. They have a lot of quirks that I like. Also, I’m kinda weird so...But right now I don’t have any pets right now. I’d like to.”

11. THAT’S COOL I GUESS, NOW TELL ME ABOUT SOMETHING YOU DON’T LIKE.

“Umm....probably haunted houses and people who like to be jackasses. Not a huge fan of that.”

12. DO YOU HAVE ANY HOBBIES/ACTIVITIES YOU LIKE DOING?

“Reading’s good. Oh, Iove assembling animal skeletons. It’s kinda my job too. Listening to grunge is cool too.”

13. EVER HURT ANYONE BEFORE?

“Yeah, I have. Broke some of their bones in places where they haven’t been able to heal the right way. I’m an osteologist. It’s kinda what I know.”

14. EVER….KILLED ANYONE BEFORE?

“I have. Once. I’d rather not talk about it.”

15. WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU?

“Why a magpie of course! Sometimes I’m a cat, depending on my mood.”

16. NAME YOUR WORST HABITS.

“If I know someone, I’ll just lay on top of them. Sometimes when I’m grouchy or jealous, I’ll let it show. Sometimes I keep things from people. I don’t of myself as a hero either, despite all I’ve done.

17. DO YOU LOOK UP TO ANYONE AT ALL?

“Um...Charles Xavier. But that was a long time ago. Now I don’t look up to anyone at all.”

18. GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BISEXUAL?

“Demisexual! I’ll go for anyone, it’ll just take like, a really long time for me to say ‘I love you!’ and kiss you.”

19. DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL?

“I’m not in school anymore because I graduated. I’m not in college anymore as well because I graduated with a Masters degree in osteology.”

20. DO YOU EVER WANT TO MARRY AND HAVE KIDS ONE DAY?

“Not really. I don’t want to feel tied down. What if I fall out of love with them? I don’t want to be married to them when that happens. Who knows maybe if I find the right person who’s willing to stick with me and me to them. As for kids, I’ll probably adopt.”

21. DO YOU HAVE ANY FANBOYS/FANGIRLS?

“I actually never checked to see if I did. Not sure if I want to now.”

22. WHAT ARE YOU MOST AFRAID OF?

“I have a curse so it seems. A curse where everyone I loved has died in horrible circumstances. Either by my hand or someone else’s. I’m always praying for whatever merciful god to not let them take the next person I’m with.

23. WHAT DO YOU USUALLY WEAR?

“All black all the time! And trench coats with high boots. Those are my favorites.”

24. DO YOU LOVE SOMEONE?

“Not now no.”

25. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WET YOURSELF?

“When I got shot in the eye. It was not a pleasant experience. I’d rather not talk about it.”

26. WELL, IT’S NOT OVER YET!

“I think I’ve got some time for more! Bring it on!”

27. WHAT CLASS ARE YOU? (HIGH CLASS, MIDDLE CLASS, LOW CLASS)

“It varied. But in my childhood growing up, I was average high/middle class.We lived in this gothic Victorian house that I loved so much. I used to roam the halls pretending I was some kind of ghost. I miss it now.”

28. HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU HAVE?

“At least 3 or 4. I’ve had a lot over the years, but there’s only so few I’m close to.”

29. WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON PIE?

“Can I have some? As long as it's not the key lime pie I’ll take any kind of pie!”

30. FAVORITE DRINK?

“Bubble tea and strawberry laisses.”

31. WHAT’S YOUR FAVOURITE PLACE?

“Uh...That’s a tough one. Either New Bordeaux or Seattle. For personal reasons.”

32. ARE YOU INTERESTED IN SOMEONE~

“NOPE. Next question.”

33. WHAT’S YOUR BRA CUP SIZE AND/OR HOW BIG IS YOUR WILLY?  

“I am a very flat A cup. Don’t ask about that, please. But on the bright side, I don’t have to worry about paying for bras or worry about what kind makes me feel sexy. All I have to do is just put on my favorite shirt and walk out the door like I can take on the whole world.”

34. WOULD YOU RATHER SWIM IN THE LAKE OR THE OCEAN?

“Ocean. There’s something so peaceful and calming about drifting in a vast sea.”

35. WHAT’S YOUR TYPE?

“It varies. Sometimes its men sometimes women. But I don’t care if they’re big or small. Just as long as they’re able to accept as who I am, and being a good listener. Listening’s a good trait too.”

36. ANY FETISHES?

“Nope. Not really.”

37. SEME OR UKE? TOP OR BOTTOM? DOMINANT OR SUBMISSIVE?

“All of this depends on what mood I’m in.”

38. CAMPING OR INDOORS?

“I love looking at the stars and nature. So sign me up for camping!”

39. ARE YOU WANTING THE QUIZ TO END?

“As much fun as this was, I wish it was over. Thank you for having me here!”