#Cause I tend ti get very tired with the armor

[shinmiyovvi]

Last wip before school starts so have this some sort of Lena for that one lore change of Vampire Knight and Noble Prince Au

[windblooms]

childe scenario – after the golden house

you, an ex-fatui executive, decide against your better judgment and tend to the wounds of the near-dead 11th harbinger following his duel at the golden house.  spoilers for the 1.1 archon quest.

gender-neutral reader.  enemies to lovers  soft spot syndrome.  sfw, but contains mentions of blood/injury.  also childe briefly in foul legacy armor.  canon-divergence.  2669 words (nice).  

with the fatui’s nails so deep into the city, staying in liyue probably wasn’t your brightest idea in retrospect.  

you blame your sentimentality of liyue on the exact same thing that caused you to leave the fatui in the first place: wanting to live without fear.  while the fatui treated you well enough, as you were considerably efficient in your ranks, being part of a partially underground, partially illegal business wasn’t exactly the most liberating practice either.  it didn’t take long for you to realize that, behind their scheming and pretenses of fair economics, the fatui would have their underlings wound so incredibly tight around their fingers that their violent tasks would rapidly become suffocating. 

that is, once you were in the fatui, getting out would be akin to scaling qingyun peak with one arm tied behind your back.

the only reason you were able to?  because you ran.  you were desperate for a new life, sure, but also you weren’t below realizing when something was out of the question.  it took a few months to shake them off your trail, having to move constantly between fontaine and mondstadt, but you finally settled in liyue.

it was a quiet, peaceful city.  the governing body was fair enough with its jurisdictions, and after a year of hiding, you were able to enjoy the lantern rite festival without fear.

that is, until the northland bank sat its obnoxious ass down the street.

archons, really, once you found a place you thought was safe enough, you’d have to start moving again.  initially, you reasoned that it had been over a year, and that the fatui surely wouldn’t go hunting for a runaway executive.  hell, you weren’t even that high on the ladder.  however, a few run-ins with scaramouche and pulcinella had left you paranoid enough that, if they spotted you, they would surely put an end to your traitorism. 

honestly, you should’ve ratted them out to the knights of favonius while you were in mondstadt.  make a quick bargain, have jean toss a few coins your way, and you would be set.  it would’ve definitely been worth the trouble, now with the knowledge that the fatui were your neighbors.  

now, there’s no time to dwell on what you could’ve done.  it’s either run again, or hold your ground right under the fatui’s nose.  you might, sort of, maybe, probably do not have the funds to move for the third time in a row, but maybe counting couldn’t hurt –

no, yeah, it hurts, you grimace as you slide the coin bag back in your bedside drawer.  outside, it’s dark, and the sky seems a bit more disturbed than usual.  it isn’t usually overcast in liyue, and the blue lightning does nothing to quell your unease.  the streets are also empty, but lights illuminate each building.

from your window, a quick glance towards the northland bank reveals to you that it is uncharacteristically dark.  no lanterns, no lights.  you frown, troubled that the individuals you were so alert to monitoring, had a lifeless stronghold.  not typical of them at all. 

so, you decide while your long-time enemies are plotting (or whatever they’re doing that prompts them to close an entire bank for), now might be the best time to potentially make a run for it, light coin bag be damned.

hastily, you rid your apartment of personal belongings by unceremoniously shoving them into your bag.  if it’s one thing you were grateful for in this world, it’s archon magic.  you don’t fuss over the science behind it, but whatever made your bag feel like a bottomless pit was an actual life-saver.  packing is extremely efficient with it, and in less than fifteen minutes, you’re ready to go.

all that’s left is to write a thank-you note to the liyuen couple who let you stay while their son was out exorcising.  at the time, they assured you that you would be no trouble for you to take up a guest room, but nonetheless you tried to pay them with whatever you had left over after commissions.

you grab a writing utensil, still feeling a bit rude to leave on such short notice, and swear to yourself that you’ll visit in the future.  for good measure (after sullenly looking into your coin bag), you leave an acceptable(-ish) amount of mora on your former bed.

all right.  now, time to leave, with your foot out the door and wind scratching at your face, as if the odd overhead weather wasn’t already an omen.

you’re barely past liyue harbor, headed towards the luhua pools, when a comet shoots above you past mount tianheng.  no, not a comet, you realize as it dips from the sky, headed for landfall around a kilometer away.  a comet of water?

if a dead northland bank wasn’t the nail in the coffin, this surely is.  you’ve been around enough in the fatui to know that whatever fell from the sky has to be the work of a vision user, or some more powerful being.  turning towards where you estimate to be the crash site, you weigh your options.  you’re already outside of the city, and the fatui are probably preoccupied.  you can manage a detour for now and inspect the hydro-apparition.  regardless, you deem that the farther away you are from the water you are, the safer you might be from what’s about to happen – you look back towards liyue harbor, and nearly shudder at the rising tide and choppy waves. 

after about fifteen minutes of walking in the rain, you find yourself between the slope of the dunyu ruins and mount tianheng.  it’s vacant, save for the weathered ruins, and a sizable crater meters wide.  cautiously, you approach the edge, summoning your sword with one hand and conjuring your vision in the other.  you’re not going to let curiosity kill the cat, especially not if this turns out to be a prank by the archons.

in the center of the mess is, well, another mess.  you blink a few times, wary, as you discern that an individual lies in the rubble.  they’re actually conscious, you soon find out, as they righten themselves from the fetal position into a kneel, supporting their body weight with their arms.  their body is covered head-to-foot in dark, purple armor, and a red mask with a broken, center orb gleams faintly in the night.

it is only when you the individual looks up at you, straight at your head, do you realize that you should not be here this was a bad idea –

and then they collapse.

“shit,” you murmur to yourself, vision still pulsing in your palm, which has become increasingly sweaty.  you step back from the edge as an orb of water surrounds the armored-being, encasing him like a cocoon, before dissipating to reveal a much more vulnerable, tired man underneath.  his hair is matted to his face from the rain, yet a much smaller mask rests on his eyes; his clothes are somewhat torn (you suspect that whatever had happened, his armor absorbed most of the damage), and you can very faintly see his chest heave. 

but, ah, speaking of his clothes,

they were the colors of the fatui.

“no, no, bad idea,” you tell yourself over and over again, sword put away yet vision still bouncing in your hands.  you walk away from the crater briefly, before walking towards it again, peaking down to check on the fallen man, and then scamper back.  the whole idea was to run away, not go straight to them, as if you had managed to doom yourself after all.  

pacing back and forth, you contemplate for another minute.  he’s clearly injured, with how he’s laying on the ground and not moving, so the nice, not-so-hardened part of you wants to help him.  if he was a regular civilian, surely you’d already be down there and trying to take him back to liyue and patch him up, but he’s with the enemy.  no way someone who can transform into armor is just an underling, so he’s probably someone exceptionally powerful –

“i see you,” a voice comes from the crater, and your vision nearly explodes in your hands from your nerves.  summoning your sword quicker than you ever have in your life, you steel yourself towards the bottom of the crater.

except, he’s not holding a weapon to your face, or threatening to skewer you into a million pieces.  except, he’s not scowling at you, or demanding you assist him at once before he blows something up.

instead, he’s on his knees.  looking up at you with the desperation of a man completely robbed, crippled from something he can’t speak of yet wants to scream about.  his eyes, now free from the mask, pierce into you with a vividness that could rival the richest hues of luhua, and archons damn it do you melt. 

you melt, and realize you should run away.  you melt, all while cursing yourself, that this man might not be so kind as to spare you in the future, when he’s back at his full health.  you melt, thinking that, well, you haven’t seen him before, so maybe he doesn’t know who you are either.  you melt, even as you extinguish your vision and put away your sword, and slide to the bottom of the crater to lug his limp body back to the top, to the shelter of the ruins, and rummage through your bag for medicine.

he hasn’t said anything for the past ten minutes, and you’re thankful that there’s finally someone from the fatui who can keep their mouth shut, even if this is half-beaten to death.  “you’re not dying on me,” you insist, as if your words could will him back to full consciousness.  “not when i’m risking my life for someone like you.”

as you work on bandaging his arm, out of the corner of your eye you swear you see his mouth twitch.  is he trying to speak?  no, you want some silence for a bit longer, but pause as you notice a gash on his torso.

“this is medically consensual, okay?”  you wait two seconds to see if he objects, before unbuttoning the lower part of his coat and applying pressure on the wound.  the blood has soaked through his clothes, and just as eagerly, seeps into the cloth you’re shoving against it.  the man stirs as you continue to clean his wounds, and when his eyes open, you’re too preoccupied with your short supply of towels to notice.

when you’re aware of a gaze on you, however, you turn towards him with a hardened face.  you already know what you’re going to say.  even if he doesn’t know who you are, you’re going to make it clear that, for your own satisfaction, you won’t help him back to liyue and he’ll have to make the walk himself.

“you were out there,” you say simply, motioning towards the crater with a nod of your head.  “i’ll patch you up, but you’ll have to get further help yourself.”

the man with eyes of the deep regards you, but you busy yourself by applying gauze.  he’s propped up against a pillar, and you’re crouching at his side.  when you’re about finished, only then do you meet his eyes.

he beats you to whatever you’re about to say.  “i didn’t think,” he starts, and you’re already frowning, “that you’d come back.”

ah, referencing when you practically left him in the crater.  his words are vague enough when he says that you ‘came back’ that you aren’t too tense, and you indulge him in a bit of silence before responding.  “not like i’m used to rescuing people who fall from the sky.”

despite his injuries, the man manages a laugh.  he seems almost flustered at your statement, although you can’t understand why.  underneath his soaked bangs, his eyebrows rise, and he seems almost . . . nervous?  you can’t possibly fathom as to why, but dismiss your curiosity.  the more small talk he coerces you into, the longer you’ll spend with him.

you finish sealing the gauze, tossing the roll back into your bag before commanding it to disappear.  blood has soaked into the ground at his sides, also you’re sure that it’ll was away with time.  you’re about to stand up, satisfied with your good-samaritan duties for the day, when he stops you by locking his fingers around your wrist.

he’s in the middle of saying something, but you refuse to let him, drawing your sword and pointing it directly at his throat, his mouth agape as he releases his hold on you.  you consider each other, and when you’re certain you have the upper hand, you draw your line.

you spit the words like venom.  “do not touch me, fatui.  i’ve done what i can for you, and you won’t be getting anything else from me.”

your blade doesn’t lower from his form, and as you stand above him, you regard his hands, as if he might summon his own weapons in an instant.  if he’s smart (which you think he is yet simultaneously pray he isn’t), he’s probably plotting how to get out of your sword’s reach.  you’re not going to let him, after you’ve been so self-sacrificing, putting your life on the line for someone affiliated with the organization that suffocated the life out of you.

a tilt of the head, yet silence from his mouth.  he seems surprised that, while you allowed him to laugh mere moments earlier, you’re now pointing your weapon at him, although something in the ease of his facial features tells you that he’s not concerned in the slightest.

“i wanted to say thank you,” he breathes finally, and you look as if he’d just punched you in the gut.  “being in your position probably isn’t easy, and i’m the last one you wanted to see, but you still . . . ”

fuck, no, not this.  you don’t know if he’s a prophet, if he knows who you really are, or the ‘i’m on the run’ stamp on your forehead is that obvious, but you aren’t going to fall for the fatui’s words.  your fists clench, and you once more prepare to denounce his organization,

and you’re disarmed in an instant, sword thrown to the side and fingers restricted by his larger grasp.  archons, you couldn’t even see him move, what a deceptive bastard, feigning injury –

“stop,” he hushes, and despite your fury you register it as a plea, not a command.  the man repeats himself, before continuing,  “we won’t haunt you any more; i’ll make sure of it.”

five seconds, then ten.  you had determined that his grip was too strong to break free of, and are left in no position to move unless he releases you.  he holds your gaze without a hint of malice, even though you try your hardest to find any in his eyes.  

when he does let go of you, fingers skimming past your flesh, you run faster than you ever have before.

you run, past the ruins, past the harbor, and until you can’t see liyue behind you any more.  you run, unable to see a palace fall from the sky and crash into the ocean, and until you’re surrounded by mountains and there’s not a ginkgo tree in sight.  you run, unsure if his words are true, but certain that he knows who you are.

you won’t trust him.  as you lay on the ground, wheezing to catch the air that’s left your lungs, you once again swear to yourself that you can’t trust the words of the fatui.  

as the northland bank lights ignite themselves in welcome of its master, childe presses a hand to his bandaged torso.  a spark of your vision lingers between his fingers, and he observes it before it disappears.

he’s already hurt enough people.  he heads to the second floor, and erases your name from the fatui files. 

[jade-it-queen]

Jade. The fate of female character in Mortal Kombat

It’s been a while since I posted anything on my blog cause I’ve been busy with my life and rapid changes in it. During this time, I’ve watched the new 2021 Mortal Kombat movie as well as the new animation Battle of the realms and also rewatched the Story Mode of MK11 a few times. As you probably can tell, I have a lot to say.

JADE. MILEENA. KITANA. SONYA.

Skip this if you don’t want to read my very important (and long as sh*t) rant about female characters in MK.

DISCLAIMER. This thing is going to sound extremely feminist and women-supremacist or whatever. By saying things that I’m going to say, I by no means think that male characters should be weak or lacking. If anything, it would be nice to have some godforsaken EQUALITY. I’ll explain further later.

Part One: Mortal Kombat (2021)

There’s no Jade in this movie. 

The end. That should be the sole reason I dislike it.

However, it might be better this way since the Nitara and Mileena portrayals in this movie are... questionable to say the least. Okay, y’all been robbed. If MY JADE would be brought into this movie to BE THERE for like 4 minutes of screen time only to get absolutely brutal FATALITY I. would. be. pissed.

More than I already am and that means something.

Sure, there’s a possibility that she’s going to be present in some of the upcoming movies because this one is definitely not the only one they’re going to make. But do I want that? Yes. And no.

Mortal Kombat movies (and Mortal Kombat in general) have a problem with women portrayal in general. The target audience for them are MEN, potentially heterosexual men, who want nothing more than bloody gorey fighting scenes with occasional sex scene here and there. To achieve that, they need a female lead, an attractive, kinda kick-assish but not too much, to not overshadow the absolutely badass men characters. Girls tend to be “independent” (because God forbid they’d want to express interest in the male leads before the time is right), sarcastic, laid back and sometimes even bitchy. Because, you see, they are fighters. And they are Sonya Blade. They need NO MAN. They just need plot armor, bigger than America itself. And if they’re not Sonya Blade, they are... non existent. They are there, but they are never really there. Here, let me walk on screen for a couple seconds. Let me sit beside Very Important Male Character (aka Shang Tsung) for a couple of seconds, looking absolutely gorgeous. Let me have a fight scene in which I make choices so f*cking stupid there’s no potential explanation to it. I exist in this movie to make people that love me (this character) to come into theatres in hopes to see some good action and interesting plot.

Now, I wasn’t born yesterday, I know how the world works. It’S bEeN LiKe ThAt FoReVeR, gEt OvEr here iT. Yeah, it’s been like that forever and the result is a mediocre movie that pleases neither the casual viewer, nor the actual Mortal Kombat fan. I don’t know, there might be guys who just saw Kung Lao’s fatality on Nitara, thought to themselves “Neat” and went on with their lives. But I exited the cinema with a sour taste in my mouth, feeling like I’ve watched one of the “fighting genre” films based on video games that had nothing worth remembering. Well, besides Kano. He was my favourite part of this movie and I  normally can’t stand the guy :’D

Would it really help if they changed the way the women were portrayed? I mean - is that the ACTUAL problem of the movie? No, women being the eye candy and barely something else (if they’re not Sonya Blade) are not the only problem it suffers from. It’s that MK has been going the same route, retelling the same goddamn story for the millionth time. It’s always THE SAME. The only thing changing is who’s gonna get brutally killed. But - of course - out of the “disposable” character pool. It’s never Sonya (because you need our female lead or else there would be no female characters in the story), who ya know could be killed by Mileena but magically WASN’T. Because Mileena FOR SOME REASON was like: Ya know what? Naaah. Even though Sonya’s from Earthrealm and is actively trying to stop you. If anything, kill her because she annoys you. BUT NAH. It’s never Liu Kang because he’s the Chosen One. But killing Kung Lao is fine, he can die so Liu can awaken or smth. It’s not the main character because how else can you portray THE MAGIC OF LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP? Ya, that’s what I thought, don’t even think about it.

You have an amazing universe, filled to the brim with SO. MUCH. POTENTIAL. Let go of the same boring plot line and show us Kombat from another perspective. Change something. F*ck, go all feminist route and make a story center around Mileena dominating the world. Try with different versions of the same story, making it center around different character each time. 

SURE, YOU’LL PROBABLY LOSE SOME VIEWERS BUT TIMES ARE CHANGING, AND MOST OF US ARE TIRED TO PAY FOR THE SAME STORY OVER AND OVER AGAIN.

Part Two: Mortal Kombat Legends: Battle of the Realms

Jesus f*cking Christ.

To say this film was rushed is an understatement. While I was watching it, I was like: TF? Everything happens all at once, we have Kuai Liang-Scorpion story line, we have Outworld’s attack, the tournament, not to mention the final fight that should be whole another movie. I felt like no story line was properly laid out, some of the characters died before I got to even know them and the battles were... disappointing. I believe they needed to push this movie out so they squished in everything they had and just went with it. 

But, again, this movie just repeats the same things as its live action version. Let me lay it down for you:

Kung Lao dies (because yes)

Sonya Blade lives (because yes)

Jade is just there (more of it later)

disposable characters are disposed of

Liu Kang is badass and always wins

You watch it and feel like you’ve already seen it before. Sure, gore is fine, human Raiden is precious and need to be protected at all costs and adrenaline is pumping (I guess).

BUT NOW.

You know what’s coming.

JADE.

JADE.

My f*cking piece of sunshine, the gorgeous goddess of beauty and kombat, the woman who owns my heart.

She’s there for like not even a minute.

Words can’t describe how f*cking PISSED I am by this portrayal. These motherfrickers put her in EVERY SINGLE POSSIBLE SNIPPET OF THIS MOVIE. HER BATTLE WAS IN THE TRAILER, ONE OF THE SNEAK PEEKS WAS A SCENE OF HER AND KITANA.

TURNS OUT EVERYTHING I SAW BEFORE THE MOVIE WAS RELEASED... WAS EVERYTHING I WAS ABOUT TO SEE OF HER!!!!

THEY MADE ME HYPED UP FOR NOTHING!!!!!!

I know I’m not the only one riding this trolley. Li Mei was there just to be killed. Kung Lao had a f*cking single dialogue line and then BAM, fatality, buh-bye. But I was watching everything of this movie, being so enormously happy that I will finally see Jade in the movies, FINALLY! Only for her to be present in a single scene, get her ass kicked by Liu Kang (what’s new) and then she’s never seen again, even when the whole f*cking world is breaking apart.

Again. She’s just there. Ladies and gentlemen, one of the best Shao Kahn’s assassins, gets her ass kicked in fourty seconds. They NEVER let her speak ffs. She just spews some general villanous sh*t and proceeds to step on Johnny. Then, she just goes Observer mode as Kitana “betrays” Shao Kahn, gets tied to the column and then the world is ending. 

WHERE THE F*CK IS SHE?!

If you hype me up for her every chance you get, at least GIVE ME what you’re advertising. This is a scam. This is criminal offense. And homophobic. She is more than a revealing outfit and Liu Kang’s punching bag. I’m SO. F*CKING. TIRED. OF THIS. SH*T.

Kitana. The rebellious princess of Outworld... turned damsel in distress in this movie. Her role is so effing bad it hurts me to my core. You see her as a general being so badass and independent... oh right, we need Liu Kang to save her because he needs to maintain his hero look. And we need two kissing scenes. How do we get there? Oh, right, let him save her, because you know - that’s what makes wahmen kiss you. 

ARE YOU NUTS?!

The movie started just fine, with Kitana being in charge with her right hand, Jade. Then, obviously, they water her down and soon she is a princess in a tower (in this case, princess on a column) that needs her buffy sexy man to save her. Oh, and she can’t resist him - you know, every normal girl’s reaction to getting untied is to kiss a guy you’ve known for like a few hours but seen before and you’ve talked like three dialogue lines in total. Sure.

Kitana just gets the unfortunate role of a female main character. She’s Liu’s love interest and that makes her take the role of a strong (but surface level, only) woman who still needs her hero to free her. Classic damsel in distress story, with Kitana being the princess, Liu being the Prince charming and Shao Kahn as the dragon (lul). Of course, they try to cover this up by making Kitana a general, letting her win a few fights but it won’t matter in the end. Some say that women want to believe in fairy tales but the more I see fighting games’ lore, the more I say it’s the men who want to believe them. 

Is it necessarily bad? No. But it’s boring as fuk.

I would like to ask the directors to stop being so afraid of upsetting the target audience. Target audience can change and sometimes it comes out better than originally planned. My Little Pony was designed as a child’s cartoon but it was the creepy men who made it reach the top. Morally? Questionable at best. But business is booming, right? And that’s what they care for, right?

All I’m trying to say is these days women and gays are the future.

Thank you for today, more to come. I’m going to rant about the Story Mode.

[stars-trash-18]

Home

This is a hot garbage pile that I love and will edit later when I get fresher eyes. For now this is my new Paz series. I tried to keep reader G/N so if�� you see any gendered terms please let me know so I can correct them. As for Attila you can choose whether you adopted him, had a surrogate, or birthed him yourself (I myself headcanon him as adopted, but it’s up to you). Also as a reminder that the spacing is the way it is, is because I have trouble reading large paragraphs close together.

Side note: my southern vocab really came for my throat 

The day you saw the ship full of runaway Mandalorians land on the outskirts of your property, was the day you knew nothing would be the same. You had moved to the planet that was in the middle of nowhere to protect your son from his father. At the time of your marriage you had no idea what his father did, it wasn’t until the divorce that you found that he was one of the biggest crime bosses in the inner rim. So when you did finally divorce him you took what was yours and your son’s and ran to the largest planet you would find in the outer rim.

 The planet was one of the more ideal, it had large open plains much like Lothal. The only real issue with said planet was the spring storms and the distance to the nearest city. But you made do with what you could grow or build yourself or find in the nearest village. It was heaven for you and Attila enjoyed every moment.

Your son loved running through the fields of long grasses, riding his Tusk Cat to check on the herd or taking the Greysor hunting, or simply tending the chickens while you gardened. He was at peace being on the farm, and though he enjoyed running around on market days with his friends or going to school, he loved spending time with you. You were going to enjoy every moment of his clinginess because he was already 10, in a few years he might not need you.

So when he came sprinting into the smokehouse as you were prepping meat yelling about a ship being close, you were on high alert. You shut the door and whistled for your Varactyl as you quickly instructed him to lock himself in the house with his Tusk Cat and to keep the radio close. If you weren’t back by nightfall to call the village for help and remain inside. 

You checked that the small blaster you kept on your hip was ready and tied one of the rifles onto the saddle before setting off for where the ship landed. You knew the pride of Tusk Cats would protect the herd just fine, you weren’t scared of rustlers, what you were scared of was that Attila’s father had found you. Your Varactyl, Shira, might have sensed your fear because she gave a slight growl before running faster in the direction of the ship. You knew there was an old bunker there, it was run down and you had no use for it, but if it was bounty hunters they could use that to dig in.

But what you found instead of Bounty Hunters was a group of Mandalorians who seemed weary. Your first thought was they were bounty hunters, but on further inspection and the sight of children and elderly was when you made up your mind that they were just a clan looking for shelter. You clicked your tongue and moved Shira to move closer but a loud thud behind you drew your attention, causing your dark blue mount to whirl around and display her feathers in a defensive stance. In front of you was the largest man you’ve ever laid eyes on, his armor a dark shade of blue only making him seem bigger than he already was. He was holding a large blaster at you and with a quick glance you saw a smaller,silver Mandalorian aiming for Shira and you could see his wrist gauntlet spark up ready to drown you in a blast of fire.

“What do you think you’re doing here,” The smaller Mandalorian growled out, shifting closer to you keeping his aim on your mount. You huffed and slowly moved to dismount, stopping only when they jumped further until the bigger one nodded for you to get down.

When you finally touched the ground you placed one hand on your hip and the other on Shira’s head to calm her down.

“Strange, I was gonna ask you fellas the same thing seeing as you’re on my property without my permission,” you huffed, stroked the feathers delicately as you threw a look at them in annoyance.

“Have any proof of that? Because we were told this place had no owner,” the big blue huffed out walking closer to you, pausing a step when Shira growled lowly. You sighed and took out the deed and map from the saddle bag, making sure they could see everything you were doing to avoid getting shot. Giving big blue the paperwork to look over.

“The bunker here is abandoned, but it’s on the outskirts of my land so people often mistake it for free land, but I can assure you that this is mine and unless you’re paying rent or wanting to buy I'm going to ask you to get off my land,” you gritted out, taking the papers back from big blue. The two Mando's looked like they were going to argue before a woman in gold armor stepped from around you and interrupted.

“We apologize for the misunderstanding, if you’ll allow us time to rest and resupply we can be out within the week,” her tone not giving you any reason to doubt that it was truth. You leaned against your mount and raked a hand through your hair in thought.

“It looks to me you’re running from something, for the safety of me and mine I* need to know before I allow anything,” you supplied. You weren’t heartless, you’ve helped many a runaway, but they were only a few teenagers and escaped slaves you knew would do no harm. You weren’t a fool either, you knew they were Mandalorians, some of the greatest warriors known in the galaxy. Their history was sad seeing how scattered they became, but even one mandalorian could cause you and Attila problems.

The Gold mando seemed to contemplate before sighing tiredly and slumping her shoulders forward.

“We’re running from the remnants of the empire, them and the bounty hunter’s guild on Nevarro ran us off after we protected on of our own and we’ve been running since trying to find a new home,” She explained, her head remained held high as her covered eyes seemed to bore into you. You could feel the heat of her gaze as you straightened up, and with a heavy sigh you thought for a moment before conceding.

“Alright, if you’re willing to we can work out something for the land, I'm not going to throw a bunch of injured and children out and I can tell you don’t have any reason to hurt others without a reason,” You started watching the warriors behind her perk up, the blue one seeming to puff his chest out.

“I’m not picky on payment, it can be in credits or labor, you might see my herds wander close by but they shouldn’t be but a two miles from the bunker and I'll make sure the Tusk Cats know your friendly, The bunker is need of repairs and maybe some digging out but it should be big enough for ya’ll, the ground is good for farming and I'll donate a few of my crops to get you started, and there is a lake nearby that connects to the river that we’ll have to share, but otherwise this land’ll be yours and no one should bother until hunting season,” you continued, going over logistics and making sure they knew your boundaries. It sounded stupid at first, but a quick glance at how tired the children and other members were made your heart bleed. There were many people who helped you get away, it was only fair you paid it forwards, and besides maybe having a group of Mandalorians as neighbors and in your debt could add an extra layer of security for Attila.

The gold woman seemed satisfied with your offer and held her arm out, you shook it as she replied with some emotion in her voice, “We thank you very much, we’ll repay you in full when we’re able, you have given us more than we were expecting, for now we’ll get ourselves set up and one day you should come by so we can outline the property and you can give us an estimate”. With that you remounted Shira and gave a tilt of your head to the legendary warriors and took off back home.

You picked up your radio once you were out of earshot and opened the line, “Attila all is good here, i’m on my way home make sure Tusker doesn't maul me.”

The line crackled before it clicked, “sorry momma eagle, don’t know who Attila is, over” he giggled, you smiled at his antics and rolled your eyes as you clicked the button.

“Momma eagle returning to nest, baby raven  is clear to fly again over,” and with that you switched the line closed.

----ominous music----

As soon as you had opened the radio line the three mandalorians had tuned in without your knowledge, they smiled as they listened to you and who they could only assume as your son talk back and forth.

“We’ll have to keep an eye on them, but I have a feeling they aren’t a threat, just in case I want all of their communications monitored and movements tracked as soon as we’re done getting set up,’ The Alor ordered, causing the two much larger warriors to bow their heads in submission and acknowledgment of her orders.

[icharchivist]

A3 x Sleeping at Last

I have a fondness for the musician Sleeping at Last and i decided to have fun associating at least one of his song per A3 Characters. Under the cut are songs as well as some highlight lyrics to justify my choice. Some of them i feel more strongly than others so anyone with a comment is welcomed as well.

Thus here i go:

& Spotify playlist of all those songs in order if you want to go through it

Mankai Company : North

We will call this place our home, The dirt in which our roots may grow. Though the storms will push and pull, We will call this place our home. We’ll tell our stories on these walls. Every year, measure how tall. And just like a work of art, We’ll tell our stories on these walls. Let the years we’re here be kind, be kind. Let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide. Settle our bones like wood over time, over time. Give us bread, give us salt, give us wine.

Spring Troupe: From The Ground Up

It took me 27 years to wrap my head around this- To brush the ashes off of everything i love. Where courage was contagious, confidence was key. Right as rain, soft as snow, It grows and grows and grows, Our home sweet home.

We'll try to document this light, With cameras to our eyes, In an effort to remember What being mended feels like.

We're home sweet home.

Sakuya Sakuma : The Projectionist

When I was young I fell in love with story, With the eleventh hour, with the blaze of glory.

When hands are tied and clocks are ticking An audience convinced, we're leaning in, holding our breath again Just when we thought the game was over The music lifts and our dying soldier lives And we breathe a sigh of relief The theater lights dim and all goes quiet. In the darkest of rooms, light shines the brightest.

We’re leaving, we’re leaving our shadows behind us now. We’re leaving, we’re leaving it all behind for now. But even dust was made to settle And if we’re made of dust, then what makes us any different? I guess we give what we’ve been given: A family tree so very good at giving up When we’ve had enough. Though truth is heavier than fiction, Gravity lifts as the projectionist rolls tape. And it makes us brave again

Masumi Usui : Venus

At first I thought you were a constellation. I made a map of your stars, then I had a revelation: You’re as beautiful as endless, You’re the universe I’m helpless in. An astronomer at my best When I throw away the measurements.

I was a billion little pieces 'til you pulled me into focus. Astronomy in reverse, It was me who was discovered.

Tsuzuru Minagi : Page 28

Have you read the script? Could you picture it? ... is it worth the risk?

Here in the second act I'm living in repair. Strange how the heart adapts when its pieces disappear. And there, on page 28, I'm so tired of drying glue, I begin my grand attempt at building something new. Though I tend to write the epiphany more immediately, I guess I'm trusting that there's such a thing as elegance in dissonance. God, I'm skeptical of pulling scenes. Was it something that I said? was it something that I did? Please don't get me wrong - I still need your help As history repeats itself Here in the aftermath, I'm pulling at the seams. Strange how the heart adapts in the absence of routine. And there, on page 29, I find “new” and make it mine. But I can't help casting shadows on all I leave behind. Maybe I could afford to change a bit... Even let go of the reigns? Every torn out page was worth the risk Now that the stakes have been raised. So here in the final draft, I've given all I have. Strange how the heart expands in the absence of a plan. There's nothing left on the page, but I'm okay with that, For I found my resolution Was designed for stronger hands.

 or Body

There's magic in our bones, A north star in our soul That remembers our way home. There's magic in our bones. No, I don't have a script for this. But I know the right words exist Somewhere, And I just need more time. I know, I know, I'm asking for the moon, But I must listen to intuition Believe me, I only want what's right.

Itaru Chigasaki : Pluto

I woke up from the same dream: Falling backwards, falling backwards ’Til it turned me inside out. Now I live a waking life Of looking backwards, looking backwards; A model citizen of doubt. Until one day I had enough Of this exercise of trust. I leaned in and let it hurt, And let my body feel the dirt. When I break pattern, I break ground. I rebuild when I break down. I wake up more awake than I’ve ever been before. Still I’m pinned under the weight Of what I believed would keep me safe. So show me where my armor ends, Show me where my skin begins. Like a final puzzle piece It all makes perfect sense to me… The heaviness that I hold in my heart belongs to gravity. The heaviness that I hold in my heart’s been crushing me.

Or  East

I set out to rule the world With only a paper shield and a wooden sword. No mountain dare stand in my way, Even the oceans tremble in my wake. The tide is brave, but always retreats. Even the sand, it cowers under my feet. My kingdom towers above it all, While I sleep safe and sound in my cardboard walls. Now I bear little resemblance to the king I once was. I bear little resemblance to the king I could become. Maybe paper is paper, maybe kids will be kids- Lord, I want to remember how to feel like I did. So I draw my sword with the morning sun, I summon the moon as soon as the day is done. The clouds march on, on my command. Even the rain, it falls according to plan. The trees bow down and give their leaves. I humbly accept their offerings of peace. The years wore on and changed my heart, The leading role for a smaller part.

Citron : Noble Aim

Chances are we are the same, against the odds, against the grain We lean, like gardens toward light but we wait, Like evening for night, Don't we? Chances are we are alike, against what better judgement writes We ache, like children for love For a purpose worthy of such a noble aim as love.

Chances are we bruise the same; a family tree desperate for rain. A thirst only deserts know best. a hurt so at home in our chests. Call it stubbornness or bravery, To let our branches continue to reach, With such a noble aim, With such a noble aim as love. Every broken branch and loosened leaf that we've grown to ignore, Is now a part of something greater than before. Every nest that rests upon our limbs, Seeking shelter from the storms, Is a purpose worth being broken for.

Chances are we are the same, against the odds, against the grain We lean, like gardens toward light, We reach with all of our might For such a noble aim as love

Chikage Utsuki : Neptune

Pitch black, pale blue, It was a stained glass Variation of the truth, And I felt empty handed. You let me set sail with cheap wood. So I patched up every leak that I could, 'Til the blame grew too heavy.

Stitch by stitch I tear apart,  If brokenness is a form of art, I must be a poster child prodigy Thread by thread I come apart If brokenness is a work of art, Surely this must be my masterpiece

I'm only honest when it rains If I time it right, the thunder breaks, when I open my mouth I wanna tell you but I don't know how

I'm only honest when it rains An open book, with a torn out page, and my inks run out I want to love you but i don’t know how...

           Or South

Some truths, over time, can learn to play nice. Some truths are sharper than knives. Some truths we only see in the corners of our eyes. Some truths we wish we could hide. Some truths can save us, Some take our lives. Some truths are fire and some truths are ice. No matter what category you fit into, Truth’s got its sight set on you. If truth is north, then I am true south. I can’t figure it out- God knows. Always looking up 'Til my eyes give up. That’s how I lost touch of who I am and who I was.

Summer Troupe : Joy

The clumsy start of adolescence, The glue that mends our broken remnants, An overwhelming sense of reverence, It's a glimpse of light in a mine of gold. A silver lining spilling over, The rumor of buried treasure, The starting line of an adventure, It's a glimpse of light in a mine of gold. It's an afterglow, it's an echo Still ringing out in spite of me. It's the faint outline of the divine In the hiding place of my periphery. So I let go and in this moment, I can breathe. I can breathe. The countless stars we're sleeping under, It's the brightest sparks that we remember. When our eyes are closed, we still see embers, A glimpse of light in a mine of gold. It's a glimpse of light in a mine of gold.

Tenma Sumeragi : Three

Maybe I've done enough, and your golden child grew up Maybe this trophy isn't real love, And with or without it I'm good enough Maybe I've done enough, Finally catching up For the first time I see an image of my brokeness Utterly worthy of love

And I finally see myself, Through the eyes of no one else. It's so exhausting on this silver screen Where I play the role of anyone but me. I finally see myself, Unabridged and overwhelmed, A mess of a story I'm ashamed to tell, But I'm slowly learning how to break this spell. And I finally see myself. Now I only want what's real, to let my heart feel what it feels. Gold, silver or bronze hold no value here, Where work and rest are equally revered. I only want what's real, I set aside the highlight reel, And leave my greatest failures on display with an asterisk; Worthy of love anyway.

Yuki Rurikawa : Hope

There is hope in our eyes when we truly see each other Like the light of countless stars We are not afraid of the dark 'Cause there is hope in our hearts And every single beat, we feel it To the ends of the earth, our echo carries on We are sacred, we are strong, We are beautiful, we belong Please hear our unheard song There is hope in our voice when we listen to each other Barriers disappeared with every story told We are sacred, we are strong, We are beautiful, we belong Please hear our unheard song There is hope in our eyes, When we truly see each other We raise our flag, lift our voice This is our moment, We are sacred, we are strong This is our moment, We are beautiful, we belong This is our moment, We are worthy, we are true This is our moment, There are no borders from this view Please help us raise our flag There is hope in our eyes when we truly see each other

Muku Sakisaka :  Daughter

I want to see your happily ever after, That you know in your heart that you matter, That you are royalty. This is your kingdom, This is your crown, This is your story. This is your moment, Don’t look down.

You’re ready. born ready, And all you gotta do is put one foot in front of you. Our ceiling is your floor, And all you gotta do is put one foot in front of you. If only you knew

Misumi Ikaruga : Seven

How nice it'd be if we could try everything? I'm serious, let's make a list and just begin What about danger? So what, what about risk? Let's climb the mountain before we cross that bridge! 'Cause I'm restless, For whatever comes next

How wonderful to see a smile on your face It costs farewell tears for a welcome-home parade A secret handshake between me and my one life: I'll find the silver lining no matter what the price 'Cause I'm hungry, For whatever comes next Let me tell you another secret of the trade- It feels like sinking when I'm standing in one place So I look to the future and I book another flight When everything feels heavy, I've learned to travel light But I want to be here, Truly be here To watch the ones that I love bloom And I want to make room To love them through and through and through And through the slow and barren seasons too

I feel hope deep in my bones... And tomorrow will be beautiful.

Kazunari Miyoshi : Nine

Who am I to say what any of this means? I have been sleepwalking since I was fourteen Now as I write my song, I retrace my steps Honestly, it's easier to let myself forget

Still, I check my vital signs, Choked up, I realize I've been less than half myself for more than half my life

It looks like empathy to understand all sides But I'm just trying to find myself through someone else's eyes So show me what to do to restart this heart of mine How do I forgive myself for losing so much time?

A little at a time I feel more alive I let the scale tip and feel all of it It's uncomfortable but right We were born to try, to see each other through To know and love ourselves and others well Is the most difficult and meaningful work we'll ever do

Kumon Hyodo : Intermission

I'm so tired but I can't sleep. My mind is full but I can't speak. Among the dust of the hard-to-reach, I'm stuck Right here, somewhere between side a and side b. I could call it compromise, or just an intermission. Some kind of consolation prize for the race I never finished. I want to turn these tired gears. I want to feel the follow-through, Some kind of equilibrium... Something to set my watch to.

I'm here, somewhere between victory and a white flag. Caught in this purgatory dream, I'm stuck.   But I want to set the record straight, I want to retrace my every step. If I could just rewind all the tapes, Then maybe I'd find my loose thread.   Call it a compromise, or just an intermission. Some kind of consolation prize, so close, but never finished.   I want to turn these tired gears. I want to feel the follow-through, Some kind of equilibrium... Something to set my watch to.

 Pluto works for him too

 Autumn Troupe : The Sea of Atlas

We once felt safe, like no cure was needed. Our vocabularies had no room for “defeated,” But we grew up quick and became connoisseurs of it. There's a fine line, a fine line in between Our progress and our instability. We can't help ourselves but hunt for more. A design flaw? or the olive branch that proves the shore- The catalyst we've waited for.

Banri Settsu : One

Hold on for a minute, 'Cause I believe that we can fix this over time That every imperfection is a lie, Or at least an interruption Now hold on, let me finish,  No, I'm not saying perfect exists in this life But we'll only know for certain if we try

The list goes on forever of all the ways I could be better in my mind As if I could earn God's favor given time Or at least congratulations Now I have learned my lesson The price of this so-called perfection is everything I spend my whole life searching desperately To find out grace requires nothing of me I... I wanna sing a song worth singing I'll write an anthem worth repeating I... I wanna feel the transformation A melody of reformation I hold it all more loosely, and yet somehow much more dearly 'Cause I spend my whole life searching desperately To find out that grace requires nothing Grace requires nothing of me

Juza Hyodo : Taste

I am alive, I am awake. I am aware of what light tastes like. The curtains drawn, the table's set, I wanna be, I wanna be, at my best.

I'm on my knees and only scratch the surface.

Out of the woods, out of the dark. I’m well aware of the shadows in my heart. I wanna feel, tectonic shifts; I wanna be, I wanna be, astonished. I wanna be astonished. So I propose a toast: To fists unraveling, to glass unshattering. To breaking all the rules, to breaking bread again. We’re swallowing light, we’re swallowing our pride. We’re raising our glass, ’til we’re fixed from the inside. 'Til we're fixed from the inside. We're nothing less than a work in progress. Sacred text on Post-It notes. We only speak of a world in pieces. Let's make a map of what matters most: Where every fracture is a running river. Leading us back to our golden coast.

OR Mercury

No one can unring this bell Unsound this alarm, unbreak my heart new God knows, I am dissonance Waiting to be swiftly pulled into tune

I know the further I go The harder I try, only keeps my eyes closed And somehow I’ve fallen in love With this middle ground at the cost of my soul Yet I know, if I stepped aside Released the controls, you would open my eyes That somehow, all of this mess Is just my attempt to know the worth of my life

Made of precious metals, precious metal inside

Taichi Nanao:  Sadness

It feels like falling, It feels like rain,  Like losing my balance, Again and again It once was so easy, Breathe in, breathe out But at the foot of this mountain I only see clouds

I feel out of focus, or at least indisposed As this strange weather pattern inside me takes hold Each brave step forward I take three steps behind It's mind over matter, Matter over mind

Slowly, then all at once, A single loose thread And it all comes undone

Where there is light a shadow appears The cause and effect when life interferes The same rule applies to goodness and grief For in our great sorrow We learn what joy means

I don't want to fight, I don't want to fight it But I will learn to fight, I will learn to fight 'Til this pendulum finds equilibrium

Slowly, then all at once, The dark clouds depart And the damage is done, So pardon the dust While this all settles in, With a broken heart Transformation begins

or Bright and Early

The sun comes pouring in. Filling glasses up with diamonds, Stirring where I've been But it's all trigger and effect. Dominoes at their best. In the end I'm told, It taught me everything I know. That the wreckage left behind, will somehow make me grow.

In the end I'm told It taught me everything I know. But when the fire took our home, I lost part of my soul. From the ground up I'll keep building houses into homes. 'cause if trust is ribbon, Then patience ties it in a perfect bow.

Omi Fushimi : Aperture

Happiness is somewhere I have been before- A blurry photograph that I have since ignored. I'll carefully adjust the aperture once more, Until I set the record straight. I'll brush aside the dim, make room for the bright. I'll be an editor, no, a curator of light. I'll let my better angels always set me right, Until I even out the score. Until I even out the score. God, it has been quite a year- I've lived a little bit and I've died a little more. I know that I've asked it before, But please let the scale tip here in my favor. What was once the sweetest melody I've heard Is now a memory reduced to little words. I'll tune the orchestra and play the overture, Until I pinpoint every note. Give me the heart of an archeologist, That I may dig until I prove that I exist. A subterranean cathedral in my midst, Where echos come to rest.

Sakyo Furuichi : Touch

When will I feel this as vivid as it truly is, Fall in love in a single touch, and fall apart when it hurts too much? Can we skip past near-death clichés Where my heart restarts, as my life replays? All I want is to flip a switch Before something breaks that cannot be fixed.

Invisible machinery, These moving parts inside of me Well, they’ve been shutting down for quite some time, Leaving only rust behind. Well I know, I know - the sirens sound Just before the walls come down. Pain is a well-intentioned weatherman Predicting God as best he can, But God I want to feel again, Oh God I want to feel again.

Rain or shine, I don’t feel a thing, just some information upon my skin. I miss the subtle aches when the weather changed, The barometric pressure we always blamed. All I want is to flip a switch Before something breaks that cannot be fixed. Down my arms, a thousand satellites Suddenly discover signs of life.

Azami Izumida : Anger

Like wildfire, it starts in my chest The silence grows louder, ringing out in my head

I feel the Earth shaking under my feet I feel the pressure building until I can't breathe And it takes everything

And it all spills out, reckless but honest words leave my mouth Like kerosene on a flame of doubt, I couldn't make it right

Alarms will sound, but it's too late for holy water now Sooner or later the fire dies down, I'll open up my eyes

And I'll try and find the image of God In mountains made of ash and clouds of smoke It's fight or flight, buried in my mind, It's fight or flight It keeps my mind cold

But I feel it break, With just one misstep down a fire escape And suddenly I'm someone that prays, a last minute man of faith But I'll leave behind miles and miles of jagged lines Upon the surface of the Divine, I wish I could set them straight

Say

they impose the endless fight to always be perfect it seems they have been chosen to be above the rest

but the contradiction stands between these perfect lives and the words that they've misread there was no reading say all the things that you really want to say the truest of forms will show finally you'll find your soul

Bonus: Sakyo & Azami: Uneven Odds

I once knew your father well He fought tears as he spoke of your mother’s health I guess a part of him just couldn’t return Forgiveness is a lesson he cursed you to learn As your guardian I was instructed well To make sense of God’s love in these fires of hell No I don’t expect you to understand Just to live what little life your broken heart can Maybe your light is a seed And the darkness the dirt In spite of the uneven odds Beauty lifts from the earth As the years move on these questions take shape Are you getting stronger or is time shifting weight? No one expects you to understand Just to live what little life your mended heart can You’ll always remember the moment God took her away For the weight of the world was placed on your shoulders that day You’re much too young now so I write these words down, “Darkness exists to make light truly count.”

& Heirloom

You try your hardest to leave the past alone. This crooked posture is all you’ve ever known. It is the consequence of living in between The weight of family and the pull of gravity. You are so much more than your father’s son. You are so much more than what I’ve become. Long before you were born there was light Hidden deep in these young, unfamiliar eyes. A million choices, though little on their own, Become the heirloom of the heaviness you’ve known. You are so much more than your father’s son. You are so much more than what I’ve become,

You pressed rewind for the thousandth time When the tapes wore through. So you memorized those unscripted lines, Desperate for some kind of clue:

When the scale tipped, when you inherited,  A fight that you were born to lose. It’s not your fault, No, it’s not your fault, I put this heavy heart in you.

You remind me of who I could have been, Had I been stronger and braver way back then. A million choices, though little on their own, Became the heirloom of the heaviness we’ve known. You are so much more than your father’s son. You are so much more than the wars you’ve won. You are so much more than your father’s son. You are so much more than what I’ve become.

Winter Troupe : Homesick

Our resignation only comes on beaten paths When the world was flat we dreamt of its edges If love's elastic, then were we born to test it's reach? Is it buried treasure or just a single puzzle piece? It's poison ivy beneath our brave and trusting feet All revelations come to us in recovery Cry wolf, cry mercy, Cry the name of the one you were raised to believe Cry heart, cry yourself to sleep, Cry a storm of tears if it helps you breathe It helps you, if it helps you breathe

 Or Hourglass

We're taking turns at shattering apart. At least we're taking turns. How did we get so good at dismantling these hearts? How did we ever get so good? We dress our best to receive their sympathy. At our worst, we dress our best? “time heals all” According to these greeting cards. Oh how we'd rather time resets. If we could turn the hourglass, we would. If we could move a grain of sand, we would. If we could find our way back, we would.

Tsumugi Tsukioka : Clockwork

There is glass between our touch, phantom limbs of former love... and the truth is that I am so terrified that the callous is deeper than the surface of our skin. and it takes us twice as long, it takes us twice as long to heal. we'll lift up the ground to see the system of roots beneath. gears turn, endlessly, to bring the world back to life like clockwork, when it dies. the cadence of beating hearts, the click of its moving parts grows louder and louder from this restless earth... future gardens wait patiently below  and somehow we smell them blossom through the snow.

still unsatisfied, we chase what we're denied. as generations wait, we can't resist the taste of possibility. gears turn, endlessly, to bring us back to life again. like clockwork, we begin.

Tasuku Takato : Porcelain

The door broke when you slammed it shut, and the cracks kept reaching long after you left. through the floorboards, branching towards the hall, like vines that never rest... climbing like fire through the walls. a single spark that claims the whole forest - I know, I know... it's all for the best. but honestly, I would rather be safe from a distance than here... when I fell to my knees to sew the damage shut, I couldn't believe... a bright, staggering light came flooding into me from out of the seams. so I reached deeper in and pulled my whole world wide open, and for each broken mile, a billion miracles happen at once in everything... in everything. but I'm safe from a distance, right here. everything I love was made of porcelain, ready to break. but the bright, staggering light, it anxiously waits inside. like nesting dolls, the secret hides. and like every birth, it was a necessary pain... I know, I know... it's all worth the wait, worth the weight.

or Accidental Lights

On your mark, get set... A million miles past the finish line My heels lift at this imaginary starting line. The trigger slips; My heart was racing well before it's time. Time's running out, it's always running out on me, As the road up ahead disappears. Though it's all been said, and this empty dictionary is all that's left, I'll try to change the world in a single word. My hands are shaking, ready or not. Invisible ink well it's all I've got. So I'll concentrate and pick from these barren trees. Time's running out, it's always running out on me, And every road I discover disappears under my feet - Some call it reckless, some call it breathing. Have i said too much or not enough? Is it overkill or is it giving up, To measure out the distance of an echo's reach? If it's all broken mirrors and a chance roll of the dice, Then I'll risk everything for a glimpse of accidental light. Time's running out, it's always running out on me, And every road I've discovered disappears under my feet - Some call it reckless, I call it breathing.

Hisoka Mikage : Smell

Is this the part when the brain scans show where memories reside? Some ambiguous shape in me suddenly producing light Triggered like a tripwire, every time I breathe it in Isn't it strange that a Lilac tree is what unlocks where I've been? Like a time machine rebuilds the past, our memories return Like remembering the ashes before we burn

It finishes against my will, the light goes out, my heart goes still And just like that, I believe in ghosts

Time and space are at my back, Performing disappearing acts Now I can escape the smell of smoke Research says that the only way to keep memories intact Is to lock 'em away and close the doors to countless years of past I guess that explains why the strangest things can conjure up the past And forgotten time will find its long way back

It doesn't matter, I just know I need more Cause I feel like I've been sleeping through the better part of this Laying dormant through an endless winter that doesn't even exist

It's gravity in an hourglass, responsible for the avalanche And the loudest silence that I've ever heard Memory clear as a bell, A story that I will try to tell Maybe this time without words

Homare Arisugawa :  Four

Maybe I'm hiding behind metaphor Maybe my heart needs to break to be sure One day I'll wear it all on my sleeve The insignificant with the sacred unique But I've fallen in love with a ghost I lost my balance when I needed it most And this blurry photograph is proof Of what I'm not sure but it feels like truth I'm stuck swimming in shadows down here It's been forever since I came up for air Flashlight in hand determined to find Authenticity only poetry could even begin to try to describe

What if we already are who we've been dying to become In certain light I can plainly see a reflection of magnificence Hidden in you, Maybe even in me

or Son

Show me Who I am and who I could be Initiate the heart within me 'til it opens properly

Slow down Start again from the beginning I can't keep my head from spinning out of control Is this what being vulnerable feels like? And I will try, try, try to breathe 'til it turns to muscle memory I'm only steady on my knees One day I'll stand on my own two feet And I'll run the risk Of being intimate with brokenness Through this magnifying glass I see a thousand finger prints On the surfaces of who I am

Azuma Yukishiro : Two

Tell me, is something wrong?  If something's wrong, you can count on me You know I'll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat It's okay if you can't find the words, Let me take your coat and this weight off of your shoulders

I know exactly how the rule goes Put my mask on first No, I don't want to talk about myself Tell me where it hurts I just want to build you up, build you up 'Til you're good as new And maybe one day, I will get around To fixing myself, too I don't even know where to start Already tired of trying to recall when it all fell apart I just want to love you, to love you, to love you well I just want to learn how, somehow to be loved myself

Or Six

What would it feel like to put this baggage down? If I'm being honest I'm not sure I'd know how I want to take shelter but I'm ready, ready to fight And somewhere in the middle I feel a little paralyzed But maybe I'm stronger than I realize I wanna believe - No, I choose to believe That I was made to become a sanctuary Fear won't go away but I can keep it at bay And these invisible walls just might keep us safe With a vigilant heart, I'll push into the dark And I'll learn to breathe deep and make peace with the stars Is that courage or faith to show up every day? To trust that there will be light, Always waiting behind even the darkest of nights

Guy : Mind

First, the ground rules get established: Memory is historically inaccurate. But repetition, repetition sings 'Til finally the melody is sacred, rooted, unchanged.

It overwhelms the nervous system, This fearful constant state of comparison. In our grey matter, all grey matters. An embarrassment of riches in our heads, We gravitate to black or white instead. We were designed to send mixed signals, One image made up of different pixels All subject to interpretation. 'Til binary systems, binary systems run And the vibrancy of everything becomes zeros and ones.

Patterns form and feel important, It's the first brush stroke of a self-portrait.

[thecagedsong]

Forgotten Light: Chapter 9: Leads

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Chapter 9: Leads

“Caretaker, I present Ruta, Hollea, and Mizelle, Dryads of the South and East forests, to present their case to the caretaker,” Henrick bowed and the ladies stepped forward. Official business must be what let them walk on the road.

Agad whispered behind Seth, “Ask them the nature of their visit.”

“Ah, welcome,” Seth said, feeling a little silly, “Um, what is the nature of your visit?” His mouth quirked up at the pun. They all looked a little familiar, they must have crashed the Zzyzx opening and closing party.

“That information is private,” a blue haired one, Ruta, said. “It regards the recent adjustments of leadership and a possible danger to the fae of this preserve.”

Seth glanced at the sun, he’d guess it was a little past 10 AM, “Uh, how long is this going to take? Because if we could meet up tomorrow, that would work so much better for us.”

“I believe you will want to hear us now, Caretaker Sorenson,” the middle one said, standing a bit behind the other two. Pure black hair was tied up in a bun, rounded narrow black eyes demanded respect over high cheekbones. She was the only one armed.

“Alrighty then,” Seth said, turning to Agad, “Uh, where’s the best place to talk with…our friends?”

“Ladies, please follow me,” Agad said with a bow.

When the four of them were a little ways away, Seth stepped up to Henrick, “Hey, you missed some important stuff,” Seth whispered, “Grandma and Grandpa are in the winter study, they need your help and can catch you up. I’ll check on you guys after this, but you can go on without me.”

Henrick nodded, then reported at normal volume, “My rounds on the preserve show that everyone is restless. Far more restless than they usually are, so soon after the solstice when they tend to be tired. Repairs to the roads are happening on schedule, the Taurans have settled back into their domain, and many creatures are awaiting news of the next confrontation between you, your sister, and Celebrant.”

“I wouldn’t want to disappoint my adoring fans,” Seth joked, “I’ll make sure it’s a good one. I got to go.”

Agad had just turned a corner around the outer wall, and Seth ran to catch up. Sitting there was a room like the safe huts along the road. They weren’t restricted to mortals, however, and Mizelle was seated at a round table with seven chairs, while the other two waited outside.

Seth walked in, took a seat opposite the dryad and said, “Okay, what can I do for you?” he wished the other two dryads were here, Mizelle scared him a little.

From a pouch at her waist, Mizelle produced an hourglass, and turned it over. The number four was embossed in gold at the top. Mizelle glanced at him.

“Ah, nipsie. You are welcome at this table, if the caretaker gives you all his confidence,” Mizelle said graciously.

Once again, Seth had completely forgotten about his friend. A slight jerk in the corner of his eye where Agad was standing suggested that the wizard had too. Whoops, sorry about all those secrets.

Seth took Calvin from his pocket and placed him on table. He bowed, “My lady.”

Mizelle smiled, “Rise, small sword. Know that while the four of us talk, none can overhear us. This trinket thought up and enchanted by my sister Nika ensures that.”

“Marvelous,” Agad said, examining the item.

“Yes, but we are here for business,” Mizelle said, “Specifically, your sister, where she is, and what she is doing.”

“Do you know where she is?” Seth asked, “Ronodin and the Sphinx captured her after she lost her memory. We’re looking, but haven’t found anything yet.”

Mizelle slammed a hand on the table, “How could you let that happen!”

“Hey, Ronodin got the drop on Bracken,” Seth shot back, trying to cover up that she had made him jump, “I don’t see why Kendra is any more at fault than him.”

“Oh don’t worry, my brother won’t be spared my ire either. The fool just barely got out of captivity, and he so quickly jumps back in.” Mizelle spat. “When will that fool learn to keep his horns where he can see them!”

Seth pulled back, “Wait, brother?”

Agad blinked, “Excuse me for not recognizing you earlier. You are a unicorn?”

Mizelle nodded, “I am the eldest child of their royal majesties, and the leader of the warrior fairies of our realm.

“You’re… more intense, than I expected a unicorn to be,” Seth admitted. He’d met Bracken, the Fairy Queen, and the Fairy King, and he’d never seen a look as intense as the one that Mizelle was shooting him right now.

“Yes,” was all she said. “I take it Kendra did not explain the full nature of her abilities?”

“I am familiar with the abilities of Fairy Kind,” Agad said. “But I fear their nature is a closely held secret. I assumed it functioned similar to how fairies share their power with the fairy struck.”

Mizelle nodded, “Kendra had permission to inform her brother and grandparents. It appears she did not take it. Kenda is literally a receptacle for the Fairy Queen’s power in the mortal world. It is similar to the relationship between the Fairies and their fairy struck, but instead of a gift of shared magic, it is an open spring. She is a direct connection to Mother and the magic that fuels Fairy Realm, and therefore, is a direct weakness. This is the secret, and of the few people that understand this magic, Ronodin does.”

Seth paled, “Ronodin is hurting Kendra?”

Mizelle shook her head, “Worse. It appears he is taking advantage of her memory loss, and teaching her to poison her magic and my mother by proxy. He is leading Kendra quickly down the path he used so many years ago to corrupt his own horns.”

“Kendra would never do that.”

“That is obviously what my Mother thought,” Mizelle said drily, “With effort and training, Kendra is able to use the wellspring of fairy magic inside her and craft magic. Not as a wizard or a unicorn crafts, but as mortal does. Should she tend to a herb garden, those plants will take on magical properties. Should she weave thread with intent to protect, the cloth will become armor. When trained, her abilities are a fairy’s creation magic inspired by human emotions and ingenuity, a power Mother should not have released on the world so easily or in one so young, but here we are. Ronodin is teaching her to craft curses and items to harm and poison. It will pervert her magic, and the effects will reach straight into my mother’s heart.”

“Oh dear,” Agad said, head sinking into his hands. “I am getting too old for this. How is the Fairy Queen?”

“She is attentive and well-attuned to her magic. She noticed the change immediately, and analyzed it as much as she could before cutting her connection with Kendra completely. An unfortunate necessity, especially since my mother can’t undo the changes she wrought in Kendra and is merely cutting the girl loose, but it is the only solution that slows down the taint.” Mizelle said, “Kendra is much farther from aid than we feared.”

“What do you know about where she is?” Seth asked.

“Kendra was in the realm opposite my mother,” Mizelle explained, and held up a hand at Seth’s outraged look, “Not the demon prison. The realm of the Underking. Demons can survive surrounded by light, and as my father has shown, beings of light can survive surrounded by demons. The denizens of the Underking are fundamentally incompatible with my kind. Their darkness will extinguish our light, and our light will extinguish their darkness. Many fairies have died, trying to light up the darkness for even a moment. Mortals refer to the Underking’s domain as the Phantom Isle.”

“How does the Queen know that’s where Kendra is being kept? Does she know where the Phantom Isle is currently located?” Agad asked.

“It is part of the connection Mother shares with Kendra, is it unequal to even what she shares with her family.” Mizelle said, massaging her temples, “The magic flow remained strong, but that is the only place on earth where her senses are truly dulled. Ronodin is somehow protecting Kendra’s light from going out, but he is only preserving it in order to mutate it. If he corrupts Kendra to a level near his own corruption, the source that Kendra and Mothers draw from will become poisoned, and the realm of light falls.”

“Okay, Phantom Isle, how do we get there?” Seth asked.

Agad shook his head, “It moves around. It has connections to our world all over the place, but very few beings are able to utilize them. The Underking’s realm is the home of phantoms, zombies, liches, wraiths, and every other possible thing that made a deal to give up living for longer life.”

“Okay,” Seth said, “Not a popular vacation spot. Is it an actual island? Cause that explains the barrel underwater bit.”

They both nodded. Mizelle didn’t consider any information about barrels to be important, and didn’t ask.

“Do you know anything else about Kendra?” Seth asked.

Mizelle shook her head, “I can tell you that it will take time to turn her. Mother felt shadows passing over the soul, but that is the first step to a long descent that Ronodin has taken over the course of his life to replace all his light with darkness. However, Ronodin is cunning, he is skilled. It will be that much easier if Kendra has no memories of goodness. Unfortunately, Mother will not be able to continually check on her.

“Think of the source that Kendra and Mother draw from as a well with a pipe directly to the Fairy Queen. From the Fairy Queen, magic flows to all creatures of light. When making Kendra Fairy Kind, Mother expanded the width of the pipe, and created a secondary pull from the Source before the magic reaches her to reach Kendra instead. An offshoot pipe before my mother’s reservoir. Kendra’s poison is travelling back up the pipe towards the source, and to prevent immediate contamination, Mother had to build a wall separating the streams of magic. Because of her actions, it will take the corruption much longer to reach Mother. Kendra will have to poison the source first before it reaches the Fairy Kingdom.”

“That’s fascinating, is that really how fairy magic works?” Agad asked.

Mizelle shot him a deadpan, “No. It is incredibly more complicated. I am describing astrophysics to someone who hasn’t figured out how to make fire yet. But it is a sufficient metaphor for what you need to know.”

“Could you give us a timeframe?” Agad asked.

“That depends on Kendra’s resistance,” Mizelle said. “With the circumstances as they are…find her before the fall equinox. That is the soonest Kendra could reach that level of corruption. Find her as soon as you can, but that is your deadline. We are unable to help you more without declaring another war that we are sorely ill prepared to handle. As a mortal, Kendra does not belong there, but nor is she banned from it.”

“I’m going to get her back much sooner,” Seth swore, meeting the intimidating gaze full on.

Mizelle met his gaze, and when he didn’t waver, she gave him a small nod, “I don’t doubt your courage or will, and I pray for your success. Of all the beings to reach the heart of the Underking’s realm, a shadow charmer has a better chance than most. Not a good one, but you have proven yourself before.”

Mizelle stood up, “Hurry, but do not go unprepared. I will be busy managing the affairs of the Fairy Realm, let no one know of its weakness. You have been a good ally to us before, Seth Sorenson and Agad the Young. Unfortunately, we must rely on you once more.”

There was still a little bit of sand left in the hourglass, and Seth stood up too. “It’s my sister. I’ll dig a hole there myself if I have to.”

“Mortals,” Mizelle said, somewhere between scoffing and amusement, “I did not inherit Mother’s love of mortals, nor did any of my sisters. Only Bracken claims that. In addition to most of her looks, it’s why he is her favorite. I, personally, am still struggling to see the appeal.”

“Wait until we…er,” the sand in the hourglass ran out, “Wait until we manage your request, and you will see what mortals can do when people we care about are at stake. I think you’ll figure out why we’re pretty cool.”

“I await proof, Caretaker,” Mizelle said, offering a hand. Seth shook it. Agad stood up and shook her hand as well.

After seeing the envoy of “dryads” off, Seth didn’t move. He was hoping that any spy had left him for more fruitful pastures after seeing they couldn’t overhear what the dryads wanted.

“Send Marat to the stables,” Seth said, quietly, waving at the departing figures from the archway. “See which mounts are interested in another adventure. Then go to Grandma and Grandpa, if their plans look good, approve it.”

“Where will you be?”

“Shadow hunting. I’ll take a late lunch.”

He turned back towards the Keep, speaking at a normal volume, “Their issue wasn’t that big, right? Henrick can help them.”

“If you tell him to,” Agad agreed. “First we should weather tonight.”

Seth started walking towards the winter study, but sidetracked into a…music room? They had a music room? The map was going to be useful all on its own.

He turned off the lights, drew his sword, and started walking. He tried to turn off all the lights around him, but it was hard when only some of the rooms has electricity. Most were gas lamps, and for about the hundredth time he wished he was a fully trained shadow charmer. According to the Sphinx, a shadow charmer can dim flames, bring cold, and a bunch of other cool stuff that would be really useful for figuring out if there was a spy in the Keep.

He decided to start at the top and make his way down, following Tess’s group wasn’t going to be any good if the spy was doing that already.

Luckily, the Keep was meant to be a fortress, and there no windows on the ground floor. When he approached the winter study, he listened carefully, looking for another spy, but didn’t find anything. Agad was talking about the best way to inform the staff, so Seth moved on.

Seth made his way to the dungeons next, checking various rooms as he followed the strained whispers of the undead. Unable to see in the dark, he stuck close to the walls. He approached the room with the barrel in it, hidden amongst the empty cells. One of the minotaur’s, not Brunwin, was guarding it along with a dwarf.

Seth imagined himself as part of the darkness, and tested how close he could get.

Seth could have stabbed the Minotaur through the chest. He was within the torchlight hanging near the entrance, but with the sword helping him, still the guards hadn’t noticed. Then Seth was actually standing behind the minotaur, reaching for the gate, when the dwarf saw him, cursing in dwarvish, as he pulled his shortsword free.

The Minotaur spun around, and Seth held up his hands without letting go of his sword, “Don’t attack! It’s only me,” Seth said. “Sorry, I was just trying to see how far my shadewalking and this sword could get me without being noticed.

The Minotaur lowered his axe, shaking his head, “I didn’t see you at all. I didn’t smell or hear you either.”

“And you can do all that now?” Seth asked.

They both nodded.

“Okay, good to know,” Seth said, “I’m going to go in the cell, check up on the barrel. Is there anyone in there right now?”

“Agatha,” the dwarf said, “She’s keeping watch over your note.” The dwarf handed him the key.

“We got a believable threat to Blackwell that’s supposed to come tonight,” Seth said, “My grandparents will fill you in soon, but be as vigilant as you can. Okay?”

They both nodded and Seth walked in. Agatha was apparently one of the old women, she was knitting an enormous sock, and smiled pleasantly when she saw him.

“Ahh, Young Master. The letter remains untouched and unmoved,” she said.

“Err, awesome. Good job,” Seth said. He felt a little uncomfortable having the old woman be the last or first line of defense should something happen with the barrel, but something about the click of her needles made him think she wasn’t as harmless as she appeared. There was no one else hiding in the cell with her, so he walked back out and continued towards the Blackwell.

As he wound closer to the Blackwell, he heard Doren, “Look, it’s really not necessary to go closer. Seth even told us not to touch this place.”

“He isn’t the boss of me,” Knox said, a slight tremor in his voice. He wondered how bad it was this close to the Blackwell for people without magical fear immunity, “We should look in, figure out the shape for the map, then we can go.”

“I don’t want to go any closer,” Tess said, almost crying.

“You don’t have to,” Knox said, sounding braver. “I’ll just crack open the door.”  

Seth waited, pulling himself into a little nook around the corner of the prison door. It was round indent, about three feet deep, and he pressed himself to the wall, focusing on listening.

“Well, it won’t open. And if it’s locked for us, its probably locked for everyone one else. Move along now, we still need to get through the first floor before lunch. I for one, don’t plan on missing a meal because we stared at a door too long,” Newel said, “Off we go.”

Seth watched, holding his sword ready. Any tails the group had would have to back track, if Seth remembered right. He kept his eyes peeled for movement, ears alert for the sound of shoes separate from the others. Surprisingly, the ghostly wailing wasn’t overwhelming like he remembered the first time. Seth could firmly place it within his head, and it quieted while he focused on his non-shadow hearing.

His friends passed without a sound. Newel was holding the torch, the rest their papers and clipboards.

Seth waited for Tess to point to him and ask to talk, but her eyes slid right past his hiding spot. He felt the light touch him, but a single torch wasn’t enough to take away his advantage in this area. That meant that while she could see through distractor spells, shadow magic eluded her. It all depended on what the spy was using.

The group continued forward, and Seth waited.

And waited.

He made himself wait longer, just because time flew when you were waiting for something to happen. A trained spy would know that, even though the group was out of earshot.

Nothing happened.

It didn’t make sense. If the spy was tailing this group, which he thought any reasonable spy would be, he or Tess should have seen the person. This was a dead end! The spy wasn’t tailing his grandparents, he didn’t think. Any plan of the Sphinx’s and Ronodin’s wouldn’t be thwarted by increased security. Did the person stick to Agad, knowing the old wizard was the most powerful of their group? That didn’t seem right either, Agad had been as clueless as the rest of them in the meeting, and Seth had put him on magic defenses, which were already confirmed to be holding strong. Tailing Seth? The Dryads and Mizelle’s item would have found the spy if they were using distractor spells, and Seth would have found them using shadow disguise magic.

Sending two children and the satyrs through the nooks of the lower levels clearly presented the most unassuming group, and therefore the most suspicious. Considering they hadn’t even considered a spy until mid-morning, the spy wouldn’t have assumed Seth to be a good enough strategist to do what he did. Seth hadn’t been banking on the spy following this group, but even if the spy wasn’t listening in on the War Room meeting, the four of them tromping through the underground should have caught the spy’s attention.

Seth was looking at this wrong. Or maybe it was crazy, thinking there was a spy already here. Maybe the spy had known about the dead end and hadn’t bothered to follow them towards the Blackwell already, and instead stopped before —

Seth froze, then immediately forced himself to relax. He stood up straight, as though getting ready to leave and stepped from the nook.

 Seth spun with all his strength, sword extended. Steel sparked against stone wall. A dark figure crouched, sparks landing on their hat. Seth had put too much force into the swing, and had trouble pulling back. The figure used that millisecond to run. An arm shot out, shoving him.

“Hey!” Seth yelled, scrambling to his feet. “Intruder!”

Seth ran, eyes darting everywhere, looking for the figure, catching the barest flicker of movement turning corners. He hit the main hallway, and there was nothing. No doors swinging, no locks rattling, no flickers of coat. Seth hurried forward and reached the cell with the barrel, and found the minotaur and the dwarf, braced and ready for action.

“Did you see anyone?” Seth asked as he rushed closer.

They jumped, only spotting him as he spoke.

“Right, new plan,” Seth said, putting a hand on his head, trying to think through this.

He was planning on taking the barrel with him out of Wyrmroost in the late afternoon. It had seemed so much more likely that they were going to attack at night. Now that the spy had been spotted, would their enemies try to move up the plan? What did Seth want the spy to think? If Seth did nothing, the spy would know that something was going to happen.

If Seth saw the intruder, and Tess didn’t, that meant shadow magic. Being unable to see in the dark meant that even if he could see past the shadow magic, he wouldn’t be able to find the intruder easily. That was a dumb trait. There had to be some aspect of being a shadow charmer that let him sense others in the dark.

But it was reality, and it meant that keeping their biggest weakness at the bottom of the dungeon, near the Blackwell, was a mistake.

“Okay, uh, remind me of your names?” Seth asked apologetically.

“Borum,” the dwarf said.

“Romnus,” grunted the minotaur.

“Right, Borum, you’re on guard duty with me. We’re moving the barrel, Romnus is going to carry it. I know this is one of the most protected areas, but we’re dealing with someone even better at shadow stuff than me. This is going too the High Judgement Court,” Seth said.

“Where?” Borum asked.

Seth opened the door to the cell, “Oh, uh, the center thing at the top. It doesn’t have any walls?”

“He means the pavilion,” Romnus said. Seth put his back to the cell door as Romnus explained the situation to Agatha.

“You lead, I’ll bring up the rear,” Seth said. Borum nodded, and they made their way out of the dungeons. Seth’s eyes were starting to hurt from spending so long trying to decipher the darkness, but he didn’t stop looking until they made it all the way to the top.

They attracted a trail of people, running into Tess’s group on the first floor, then Marat and Agad as they made their way to the kitchens.

They all asked Romnus, Agatha, and Borum questions, but they were directed to Seth who shook his head, motioning for everyone to follow quietly.

With everyone gathered at the pavilion, the harsh sunlight let Seth finally lower his sword. He sheathed it and looked in the barrel. The note remained, having shifted only a little bit during the trip.

“Okay,” Seth said, “I found the spy. Didn’t get a good look at them, but they are definitely using concealment shadow magic to hide themselves. Something I can sort of see through anyway. Which means its definitely going to be weaker up here.”

“Until nightfall,” Romnus said. “New moon tonight.”

Seth nodded, “Yes. This will still need to be guarded, but I already feel a lot better with it away from the Blackwell. Any conversations you have from now on, we should probably assume we’re being spied on. With the barrel up here, assuming they still go forward with their plan, the spy will have to wait until nightfall. If their plans involved the Blackwell, they’re going to have a lot farther to go, giving us a chance to stop them.”

“Is there anything else we can do? Tess didn’t find anyone,” Knox said.

“Oi, Tess was looking for people?” Doren said, “I thought we were making a map!”

“I thought the point was to get the spy to follow us,” Newel said.

Doren looked betrayed, “You knew it wasn’t about my map making skills!”

“Guys, it was all those things,” Seth said. He crouched and put a hand on Tess’s shoulder, who looked scared, “Hey, you did great. I never would have found the spy without you.”

He waited until she nodded and gave him a smile.

Seth stood up, “I want your map in the War room, because there’s always the chance that we missed a weakness down there. Agad, I want you to go over it with Marat after lunch, see if everything looks like you remember. I’m pretty sure the spy was following you guys the whole time, which means the rest of our conversations were probably private. Let’s head down to lunch, see if we can think of anything else. I’m starving.”

The Satrys whooped and hurried down, Tess and Knox following after.

“I have been giving some thought to where you need to go,” Agad said. “And I am starting to believe it was a mistake to think you didn’t need to be trained in your Shadow Charmer abilities. A fully trained shadow charmer would have been able to sense the shadow and concealment magic, and would be able to sense it now.”

“I’ve had plenty of people offer,” Seth admitted, “No one I felt like I could trust. Kendra told me that a demon she knew vouched for other demons that hate the dragons a lot more than they hated humans, but I already forgot their names. She didn’t want me learning from demons anyway.”

“But still she told you,” Agad said gently, “She would have let the information die with her memory if she didn’t trust your judgement. Demons are different among the denizens of the magical world, they are not always bound to their word as Fairies and Underbeings are. In order to deal with demons successfully, you must always have your goals aligned. Is there anywhere she would have written it down?”

“The journal of secrets,” Seth admitted, “But she writes that by umite candle and in fairy languages.”

Agad hummed, “There is a surprising store of Umite candles in the stockroom, and I believe that with Tess, fairy languages aren’t the bar Kendra trusted them to be.”

Seth grinned, changing direction at a hallway, “It looks like Tess has some homework. Do you think being a Shadow Charmer would help me rescue Kendra?”

“Having your abilities fully trained would indeed let you walk among the denizens of the Phantom Isle. From what I understand, you could no more walk on the Phantom Isle unseen than you could walk in the Fairy Realm without the Queen’s knowledge.” Agad said, “But if there is a way to take back what belongs in the light, a trained shadow charmer has a much better chance than many others.”

Agad stopped Agatha, who they had caught up to in the halls, and requested a set of Umite candles be brought to the kitchen. She nodded, and went to do it.

“The staff has been put on alert, watch and rotations set, for your information,” Agad said.

“Great,” Seth replied opening the door to his sister’s room. He immediately went to the desk in the corner and looked at the underside. It was much lower to the ground, and the journal wasn’t there. He checked Kendra’s other hiding spots, and in her desk for good measure. Agad watched.

“I have the feeling this isn’t your first time snooping on your sister,” Agad said.

Seth pulled the Journal of Secrets from the inside pocket of her duffle bag, which had been folded to fit inside the bottom of her laundry basket.

“Sisters, you know?” he said, grinning and tucking the book under his arm. “I wonder if Patton finished writing in it before or after the stingbulb was made? The first half is his journal, the rest of it is Kendra’s.”

Patton. The stingbulb had only a day left, how could they make sure Patton was used to the fullest extent?

Seth once again changed course.

“The kitchen is this way,” Agad said, amused, “It seems you really do need a map.”

“We want to go somewhere no has ever been, that constantly moves locations, and survive to tell about it?” Seth asked, smiling again, “Ten bucks says Patton knows where he left the t-shirt.”

 Patton’s eyes lit up, but the rest of his features had only a hint of amusement, “Seth, I hope you aren’t suggesting that you think I rang the Underking’s doorbell for the fun of it? There isn’t a fairy shrine there.”

“Patton,” Seth said, cracking his own smile, “I’m obligated to let you know that if you haven’t ding-dong-ditched the Underking, it’s going to be a crushing letdown for one of your biggest fans.”

Patton laughed, “I had a good reason, I swear. But the particulars of it elude me. Stingbulbs don’t retain a perfect memory, you know. There is a ship, mildly haunted, that a shadow charmer should be able to strong arm into giving a lift.”

“Lady Luck?” Seth asked.

Patton raised his eyebrows, “You’re familiar with it?”

Seth winced, “Yeah, you left some stuff for me with Cormic, and we used her to get to the Shoreless Isle to stop Zzyxx. I think the bell and whistle ended up at Fablehaven, but I left the music box in the Presence’s cabin. I didn’t think I’d survive, much less need it again.”

“You’ll get a lot farther if you assume you will survive,” Patton said, stroking his mustache, “And if you don’t, you leave some nice pieces for the next adventurer to pick up. It is possible the music box remains in the cabin, but if not, a Shadow Charmer can summon the presence of spirits, I hear.”

Something else he’d need to be trained on. He caught Agad’s eye, and nodded. Training him had to be part of their plan before they went to the Phantom Isle.

“Can you think of another way?” Seth asked.

Patton shrugged, “The old stories suggest sailing to the end of the world and falling off it, but that has obvious issues. There are many caves that lead to the Underking’s domain, but those are also constantly shifting and extremely well hidden.

“The Underking has a clever boat he uses to ferry his servants across the water, but I don’t know of any others like it. There are also certain fairies that strive to find their way to the Phantom Isle, they were born with a need to light up the deepest darkness. Called Nova Songs, they are exceptionally rare, but they could lead a normal ship to your destination.”

“Right,” Seth said, “Could you write those down?”

“Of course, my boy,” Patton said, accepting a piece of paper from Tanu. He started writing. “I’m glad I could help this much. I get the sense Patton was hoping I’d be able to be more of an assistance than what I have been. Aside from getting the winged mounts, I fear I haven’t lived up to Patton’s hopes.”

“Those mounts are more important than you think,” Seth said, thinking of their plan for escape. Was there anything Patton could do in the next half a day? Probably not with Kendra, that was clearly going to take longer.

“Actually,” Agad said, “There is something you can do. I refrained from asking about your journey here before, but is it true you hid one of the keys to the vault in the Dragon Temple?”

“I suppose I can’t make myself any less popular with the dragons than I am right now,” Patton said, handing Seth the note detailing his ideas, “I did indeed. I had a couple of important items that let me get past the guardians, a lot of time, and an urgent need.”

“You used the Unicorn horn to get past Stilletta, didn’t you?” Seth said.

Patton arched an eyebrow, “As did you, I assume.”

“We killed her,” Seth replied, “The unicorn horn fed by Kendra’s unending power helped us purify her to a crisp. By the time she figured out to use her claws, she was dead.”

Patton grinned, “Quite clever. Though taking a dragon’s life shouldn’t be done lightly, Stiletta was a piece of work. I procured myself a set of Pegasus boots. Allows for increased speed while hovering three inches above the ground. That, along with a scarf that turned the wearer invisible while moving, allowed me to make it into the Temple and out again.”

“How would you like to revisit it?” Agad asked. “The dragons have declared war, voiding the treaty that gave them the right to certain treasures. We will be needing them back. Any information on the status of the temple guardians would be most welcome.”

“I believe I can do that,” Patton said, “How will I be able to convey the information back to you? I will likely expire before I can make the return trip.”

“I believe I have something that will do the trick,” Agad said, “Follow me to the library. Seth, I believe your stomach is still growling, why don’t you take your sister’s journal to Tess, see if you can scrounge up any secrets that might have been lost with Kendra’s memory.”

“Hey Tanu? When can you be all packed up?” Seth asked.

Tanu nodded, mixing two vials. “Patton’s help was greatly appreciated. I will be ready to go by 4 this afternoon.”

Marat came up to him as he approached the kitchen, but thankfully didn’t try to pull him in a different direction. He really was starving.

“The flying mounts have agreed. The destination?”

“Err, Fablehaven, I guess,” Seth said, looking around. “Think they can go that far?”

“It is approximately 1600 miles,” Marat said, “It would take a dragon three days, two days without rest. I do not know how fast your mounts fly, but I would plan for a week.”

“A week? I don’t have that much time to spend roadtripping,” Seth said, “After we get to human towns, think we could buy plane tickets to Fablehaven? They’re Luvians, they should be able to make it to Fablehaven without riders.”

“I will consult with them, though that plan has merit,” Marat said. They made it into the kitchen and Seth finally got a lunch of barbeque and some kind of mashed potato thing.

Seth dived in.

“When do you intend to implement the second part of your plan?”

“You’ve been up to something else?” Grandpa asked, sitting down with his own plate beside him.

Seth swallowed and grinned, “Always,” he said. To Marat he said, “It’s what, 1 o’clock? Let’s save it for 4:30-ish, have everyone gather at the High Judgement Pavilion. That’s when Tanu will be ready to go.”

“It’s only because I heard about your encounter with our spy that I’m letting you get away with your secrets Seth Sorenson,” Grandpa warned. “We will be discussing this.”

“I appreciate your input as my assistant,” Seth said, nodding.

“Mind your grandfather,” Grandma said.

“Yes Grandma.”

[thdorkmagnet]

The Queen of Hearts

Hey everyone! Happy Valentines!!! I hope you all are having a great day today! Since it’s the holiday all about love I had to do something Starco to celebrate the day! I’m pretty happy with the result too!! I made it as cute and fluffy as I could but with my typical splash of drama because I like it haha!! I really hope you all enjoy!! and a great big thank you to my very dear friend @kikithefox231 who actually helped me finish this fic up so I could get it out on time!! It was really fun to collab on the end and it makes it even more special to me knowing I got to make it with someone I care about! I may not have anyone romantic in my life to celebrate this day with but I got tons of friends, family, and fans who really help make this day special to me!! So yeah lots of love to you all!! Thanks for keeping me going!!

Star was insecure about her cheeks. At first Marco would have thought that was ridiculous, after all Star wasn't the insecure type. He was the self conscious one, Star was strong and confident and was never shy about her appearance.

But lately Marco had noticed a change in her demeanor, a crack in her confident armor. She had seemed to despise her cheeks. At first it wasn't obvious, just little things like shying away from cameras or not looking directly in mirrors. But then it started to progress. During winter Star had had a large rainbow scarf which she always kept wrapped around her face, muffling her voice and most importantly hiding her cheeks. Even when the weather didn't demand it she would insist she was cold and needed.

Obviously this had tipped Marco off something was wrong. And thus began trying to piece together what was upsetting his loving girlfriend. He played close attention to her behavior and noticed her tendency to cover her cheeks when out in public. If someone mentioned anything having to do with her appearance, no matter what it was, Star's hands would instinctively move to her cheeks. To anyone else it would look like Star was merely flustered, but Marco knew better. She was hiding. 

But the one that hurt the most was whenever Marco would try and kiss her on the cheek. Everytime Star would flinch as soon as his lips touched her skin. It was for only a second and she always covered it up with a bright smile and playful banter afterwards but it was still there. It still hurt. At first Marco had thought he was being paranoid but with all the rest of Star’s strange behavior that didn’t seem likely. He tried not to take it personally but… it was hard not to.

And then there was Star’s clothes. Her outfits, while always cute and adorable, had begun incorporating hearts into their design. Marco was almost impressed with the many, many ways his girlfriend had found to decorate her cute outfits in hearts. Dresses, skirts, bracelets, hairclips, boots, sometimes it was subtle, sometimes it was obvious, but there was always some kind of heart design on her person at all times. Luckily, this last clue had helped Marco finally figure out what was going on with his sweet bestie. 

Star missed her cheekmarks. 

Marco couldn’t blame her for that. After all, they had been a part of her for such a long time, most of her life, in fact. Losing them had to be hard, like she had lost part of her identity. Marco knew if he was to lose his hoodie he’d feel the same way. He loved Star no matter what, heart cheekmarks or no, but it was obvious losing them had started to affect her attitude towards herself. And that simply couldn’t stand.

Marco would not sit back and let his loving girlfriend hate something about herself. Not while he was around! She had helped him so many times grow more confident in his own skin, her mere presence filling him with pride and self-worth unlike anything he had ever known before he met her. It was time he returned the favor. 

And so Marco began hatching a plan, one that would help Star face and overcome this insecurity once and for all! It had taken a while for him to come up with the perfect idea and in the meantime he had been careful to not give anything away to his girlfriend. He didn’t want her to know he was aware of her self-doubt, not until the moment was right. And luckily for him, the perfect day to put his plan into action just happened to be close at hand. This year Marco was gonna give Star a Valentine’s Day she would never forget!

…

Marco made sure to wake up early in the morning so he could be up before Star. His bestie tended to be the first to rise, usually waking him up in the most loud but adorable way possible. But not today. Today Marco needed to be the one waking her. He got up before dawn, making himself a cup of delicious cinnamon tea before getting to work. He had a lot of preparations still to make and he had to have them done before Star got up around 7. It took some work but he managed to have everything done around 6:50. Time to wake up Star. He threw on his outfit for the day before heading upstairs to greet his girlfriend. 

Marco slowly creaked open the door and peeked his head into Star’s room. His girlfriend looked like a sleeping angel and he couldn’t help but stare at her peaceful face for a minute or so. However, he started realizing he was bordering on being a creep and so crept towards his girlfriend as quietly as he could. He tiptoed over to her, making sure to avoid the several bear traps she had set up around her room, before leaning over the bed so his face was close to hers. He grinned at the little drool mark running from her mouth all the way down her cheek and her almost non-existent snoring. He was tempted to kiss her awake but he had learned the hard way that it was better to wake Star up gently. Otherwise, she was likely to instinctively punch the nearest object. Marco really didn’t want another black eye. 

"Sttaaaaarrr," Marco greeted his girlfriend in a sing song voice. The blonde grumbled and rolled over on her side, muttering something about ‘taco cats’ and ‘needing more ice cream sandwiches’. Marco chuckled softly at his girlfriend, she was just too cute sometimes. Or all the time really.  

He tried again to wake her up, pushing gently on her shoulder, not enough to hurt but enough to her attention. Star mumbled something incoherent again but this time she actually sat up, rubbing an eye with the back of her hand. Marco could still see her eyes were clouded over with fog and she blinked at him a few times in confusion. "Marco," she slurred, her head lulling slightly to the side. "What time is it?"

"It's a little after 7," Marco explained, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

Star nodded and stretched letting out a loud tired yawn. "What are you doing up so early?" she asked before pausing, finally getting a good look at her boyfriend. Her mouth dropped open and she looked like she wasn't sure if she should laugh or be worried for her besties' sanity and Marco wouldn't blame her for either.

He was fully aware how ridiculous he looked. He had swapped out his old red hoodie for the day and replaced it with a bright pink one, covered in hearts of many shapes and colors. His jeans were a dark red and his shoes were the same except he had tied the laces into a heart. But it was his hair that seemed to be the most surprising to Star as she stared at it in disbelief. At first Marco had planned on dyeing the whole thing pink but thought better of it and just settled for a few streaks of pink that actually worked surprisingly well with his brown hair.

 And to top it all off he had painted pink hearts on his cheeks to match the ones Star had lost. He noticed her eyes lingering on those for a few seconds before she looked away. She seemed a little uncomfortable now, picking at a loose strand on her nightgown and when Star did look in his direction again. She seemed to be avoiding staring directly at his cheeks.

Then came the question Marco had been waiting for. “Marco, what are you wearing?”

Marco just shrugged as nonchalantly as he could. “Just getting into the Valentines day spirit.”

Star’s eyes darted over his outfit again, confusion pinching her brow. “So is this a normal way to celebrate Valentines?” she asked, her tone light and curious which Marco took as a good sign.  “Cause I don’t remember any other Earth holidays making you dress up like this.” She gestured to his ridiculous outfit.

Marco gave her a fake hurt expression, putting a hand on his chest, right over where his actual heart would be. “What are you saying you don’t like it? And after I put in all this work for you!”

Star rolled her eyes, clearly seeing through his act. “Well I never asked you to do this, y’know” She put her hands on her hips but her grin had returned which made Marco’s heart swell with joy. It was working. “But yes, I do like it. It was very sweet of you to go all out for me.” Then, to Marco’s immense excitement Star leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder. He gently gripped her side in a protective and loving hold, returning the hug by placing his head over hers. “Even if you do look ridiculous,” Star added playfully.

“Hey, aren’t you always the one saying pink is my color,” Marco retorted. 

“Touche, Diaz,” the blonde said, gently gripping the front of his pink hoodie before pulling him closer to her. Their lips met and instantly it was like a firecracker had just gone off between them. Even if everyone claimed there was no magic left on Earth-ni, Marco knew this was false because kissing Star could only be described as magical. The way her lips fit against his perfectly, the tiniest of movements that sent electricity coursing down his spine, the way his stomach flipped and his brain turned to mush, all of it was too amazing to describe. Marco wanted the sweet feeling to last forever but allowed his girlfriend to pull away regardless. There would be plenty of time for kisses later.

 Besides, he still had a plan to carry out. This was only phase one, he couldn’t afford to get distracted by kisses, no matter how amazing they were. Getting back on track, Marco slyly hinted to his girlfriend, “Sooooo, I may have a tiny surprise for you, y’know, for Valentines Day and everything.”

Star’s eyes sparkled as she squealed in delight, any discomfort she had shown early was completely gone, replaced instead with the adorable, hyperactive energy she seemed to radiate. “Ohhhh what is it?! Tell me, tell me, tell me!” she asked, bouncing up and down on the bed, causing the whole thing to sway and nearly knocking Marco off the mattress. 

The hooded teen couldn’t help but chuckle as he fought to keep himself steady. “Whoa, whoa, easy there, princess.” Star instantly stopped bouncing and shot him a glare.

“Marco,” she hissed in a warning tone.

“Oh right, sorry, don’t use the ‘P’ word, I forgot,” he apologized, giving Star a sheepish grin.

And just like that, the smile was back on Star’s face as she gleefully exclaimed, “It’s okay! You can just make it up to me by telling me what your surprise is!”

Marco laughed and shook his head. “If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise then,” he pointed out obviously.

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise,” Star said, while shooting him the most innocent grin she could muster, which was just too cute for words and made Marco’s cheeks heat up instantly.

The temptation to give in came a second later but Marco stayed firm, shaking his head and declaring, “No way! You’ll just have to wait and see it.” 

Star frowned and let out a dramatic sigh. “Okay, fine,” she mumbled and crossed her arms in a pouting manner.

Marco held back a chuckle from the cute display, but still wanting to appease his bestie, he offered, “But if you really want to see it so badly, we can go right now.”

“Yes!” Star cheered, clutching onto his arm in a tight grip. Marco tried not to cringe but if she squeezed any tighter she might break his bone. Not that he minded, losing his arm to Star’s death grip was a small price to pay for the excited smile on her face. Her eyes were like little gemstones, their brilliant glow would put literal diamonds to shame and he could stare into them forever. Her smile was so wide now that it had caused her cheeks to puff out in that cute way only Star could do and if that wasn’t enough than the slight rosey tinge to her cheeks made Marco’s heart hammer so hard he briefly wondered if it was trying to escape his chest so it could show love and affection to Star itself. 

The young Latino had to clear his throat to regain use of his voice so he could add, “Okay but before we do, you need to get dressed.”

“Well, duh,” Star scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I wasn’t exactly planning on going out in my nightgown.”

“Oh no, that’s not what I mean,” Marco said, a sly smile starting to spread across his lips.

Star was confused now, giving him a curious and slightly alarmed expression, “Then what did you mean?”

“I mean, I took the liberty of setting you up with an outfit of your own to wear.” 

“You what?!” Star exclaimed, gasping in surprise.

“Yep!” Marco grabbed Star’s hand pulling her up from the bed with him. “So come on, let’s go get you ready!”

“But wait! Marco!” Star shouted as he dragged her out of her room. She followed along but looked completely lost on what was happening to her. Marco noticed this and turned to her with an honest smile, hoping to convey his good intentions.

“Trust me on this, Star. You're gonna wanna dressed up for what I have planned.”

…

Marco led Star towards Britta’s Tacos keeping a firm grip on her hand since he had insisted she be blindfolded for the unveiling of the surprise. He was surprised Star hadn’t protested but clearly she was too excited to care, a bright smile on her face as she allowed her boyfriend to lead her through the streets of their home, putting her complete trust in him to keep her safe. However, his inquisitive girlfriend hadn’t stopped asking where they were going since leaving the house. “Where are we going? Is it the mall? Are you gonna buy me those cat earrings I was looking at last week? No wait, I bet you hid my present at Janna’s didn’t you? Very sneaky, knowing I would search your room for a present beforehand.” 

This was always greeted with the same response from Marco, a small chuckle followed by, “You’ll see.” Then Star would huff and pout for a few seconds before asking him again. Cycle, repeat. Not that Marco minded, he knew patience wasn’t a virtue for Star and he honestly found it beyond adorable. She was like a little kid and he loved seeing this side of her again. It felt like it had been a while to see her so relaxed and at ease. 

He took a quick sideways glance over his shoulder taking in Star’s new attire. He had spent quite a few hours picking everything out, trying to find the perfect outfit for his high-standards girlfriend, imagining how she would look in it but nothing had quite prepared himself for the pure beauty that he beheld. Marco was already well aware she could make anything look good, but… this new look might be her best yet. She was wearing a pure white top and a red, ruffled skirt, connected together with bright red suspenders that each had a tiny pink heart on them. They criss-crossed behind her back with another heart charm but that was unnoticeable from this angle. Her leggings were a light cream color covered in small star patterns with a pair of bright red boots over them. Her sunglow hair was as radiant as ever with a cute tiny heart hairclip placed delicately in her swept bangs. She had a bracelet on each wrist one red, one white, that helped to tie the look together perfectly. She bounced up and down excitedly causing her skirt to flutter in the wind and her hair to sway with her movements which somehow made her even more adorable. 

Marco had to look away to avoid being blinded by her cuteness, his cheeks now lightly tinged pink. His focus back up ahead though he smiled as he saw they had arrived at Britta’s while he was distracted. He could see the gathered crowd and colorful decorations he and the others had spent hours putting up and felt his heart soar. This was it. The moment he had been waiting for for weeks on end. He waved to everyone, before signaling them to stay quiet and they nodded in return. Marco sucked in a deep breath for courage before turning to face his girlfriend, trying to ignore her adorable outfit. 

Star noticed they had stopped and excitedly gasped. “Are we here? Is it time for the surprise?!” she asked, jumping up and down in place. 

Marco laughed and replied enthusiastically, “Yep, it’s time for your surprise!”

Star was thrilled to hear this, squealing and shaking her fists in the cutest way possible. He smiled at her animated response and slowly moved behind her to take off the blindfold, struggling to undo the knot since his girlfriend didn’t seem capable of standing still. Finally, he pulled the blindfold away from her eyes, shouting joyfully, “Alright, herrrre weeee goooo!” 

As the cloth fell away from Star’s bright blue, a cheerful yell filled the area, everyone screaming, “Surprise!” Marco could tell just by looking at Star’s flabbergasted face she didn’t know how to react. Not that he blamed her. The fast food stand had been redone for the holiday thanks to his and others’s hard work. The tables were now draped in bright pink tablecloths and the old, worn umbrellas that rested over them replaced with new more festive ones, each one covered in hearts and roses. The building itself had been painted a bright red, with tiny heart designs stenciled meticulously over the fresh coat. So fresh in fact, it still  hadn’t yet dried, causing the building to have a shimmering glow in the early morning light. And on top of that there were heart banners and confetti thrown about the place, seemingly at random, although in actuality it had all been very intentional since Marco’s organised mind had been the one overseeing everything. 

And then there were the people who filled the large space, possibly half the town gathered to celebrate. All of Star’s friends and family were present, Mewman, human, Monster, and everything inbetween, all there to help the blonde royal finally face her insecurity. Marco smiled gratefully as he saw everyone was following his plan perfectly, the entire crowd dressed head in toe in pinks and reds. And most importantly... each one with twin hearts painted on their cheeks. 

Star looked around at her loved ones, gawking awkwardly, caught in a rare moment of complete speechlessness. Marco couldn’t tell if it was from the shock of seeing her home and friends consumed by such a girly color or from all the cheekmarks but either way, it was obvious he had caught his bestie completely off-guard. The hooded teen could see the gears turning in his girlfriend’s head as Star slowly turned to him and asked in a startled tone, “Marco? What is all this?” 

Marco shrugged. “Just celebrating Valentine’s Day with my girlfriend at our favorite fast food place,” the hooded teen replied innocently. 

Star huffed, her cheeks puffing up cutely. “You know what I mean,” she murmured in annoyance. She gave a sideways glance at everyone. “I know you said it was a surprise but I was not expecting this.”

“Well that’s what makes it a good surprise,” Marco retorted, sliding his hands in his pockets. 

“If it helps, Star. None of us saw this coming either,” Janna spoke up from the crowd, surprisingly at ease despite wearing a pink dress. 

“Yeah, a head’s up would have been nice,” Tom grumbled from beside his girlfriend, looking quite uncomfortable in the fuzzy, pink bunny suit Janna had forced him to wear, his cheeks the darkest shade of red Marco had ever seen on his best guy friend. 

“Hey, don’t complain,” Marco scolded, wagging a finger in the air. “You all agreed to help out, remember?”

The only reply he received were some noisy grumblings and a few audible sighs from the crowd. 

“Plus, you look cute, Tom,” Janna cooed, giving her boyfriend a playful nudge with her elbow.

Tom just buried his head in his hand, sighing and grumbling about how stupid this whole thing was and how Janna had tricked him and many other things that were unintelligible.

“Wait, help with what?” Star asked, bringing them back on topic while giving Marco a questioning look. 

“Well, I was gonna try and bring this up more subtly but…. I know you’ve been self-conscious about losing your cheekmarks.”

Star’s eyes widened, clearly taken aback by the accusation and he could see the fear already forming behind those sky blue irises but she quickly hid it behind a false smile. She scoffed, waving what was supposed to be a nonchalant hand in the air. “Wwwwwwhat? No I’m not,” Star nervously lied, trying to pass it off with a playful, albit nervous smile. Marco saw through it in a heartbeat but didn’t comment on it. He needed to be gentle about this. 

“Star,” he said in soft tone, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, you don’t have to hide it anyone.” 

Star chuckled nervously, her eyes flicking left and right as she shifted uncomfortably on her feet. “Hide what? There's nothing to hide,” her voice was now noticeably shaking and she seemed to be struggling to keep up the charade, her armor finally cracking and her true feelings showing through. 

“Star,” Marco said again, a bit firmer but still gentle and reassuring. He wanted her to trust him. He wanted so desperately for her to open up to him and tell him everything. 

Finally, Star gave up the act, her mask slipping from her face as she stared down at her feet shamefully, biting her lip as she admitted, “Okay, fine. You’re right.” 

Marco hid the smile on his face, excited to hear Star actually admitting it. He had thought it would take a bit more convincing but they were making progress. His plan was working! He waited patiently for her to continue, knowing it was important for her to open up in her own time. 

The blonde royal looked over at the crowd of people watching them all closely and blushed, before whispering softly to her boyfriend, “Uhhh, do you think we can continue this without everyone… watching.” She gave a subtle incline of her head in the crowd's direction, before lowering her head where no one could see her blushing cheeks. 

Marco quickly took charge, turning to the crowd and saying in a loud tone, “Okay everyone! Can you give us some privacy? Me and Star need to talk alone for a bit.”

Most of the crowd parted after that, leaving the young couple to work through their problems in privacy. All but one hadn’t moved from his spot, the tiny bird man  wearing a dress scarily similar to Star’s glaring at the two in annoyance. 

“What about the tacos?” Ludo squeaked out. “You promised us we’d all get tacos!”

Marco let out a long sigh before pulling out 650 dollars in cash, handing it to the small bird Monster. “Here, knock yourself out,” the hooded teen grumbled. “Now leave us alone, please.” Ludo ran off laughing to himself, while Dennis followed tiredly behind him, shooting the two an apologetic look. 

Now that the two had their privacy, Marco turned his full attention back on his girlfriend, Star still looking uncomfortable but had at least stopped blushing and hiding her face. The hooded teen waited for her to say something but soon realized she wasn’t going to open up to him on her own and so helpfully supplied, “Soooooo, do you want to-”

“How long have you known?” Star muttered, interrupting him. 

Marco paused, before admitting sheepishly. “Awhile. I mean, I’m your best friend and boyfriend, Star. I know you better than anyone.” 

Star nodded and let out a long breath. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” She crossed her arms tentatively in front of her chest. “Just thought I was better at hiding it then I actually was.” A quick glance back at the decorations before, adding, “So what is all this stuff anyways?”

Marco shrugged, trying not to take offense to the slight bitterness in her tone. “I figured since you were missing your cheekmarks I’d make you feel more comfortable.”

“By showing me what I’m missing?” she asked, her voice still bitter.

Marco’s eyes widened. “No, no!” Marco shouted, realizing his mistake too late. “Not at all! I-I was gonna say I’d paint on new ones for you and you wouldn’t have to feel weird about it cause… everyone else would have it too, see?” He took a deep breathe, trying to calm his nerves, speaking in a soft murmur again, “I just want you to feel comfortable with yourself again. And if giving you back your cheekmarks helps then-”

Star took in a sharp inhale, “I don’t deserve them, Marco.” Her tone was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife as Marco flinched, his eyebrows creasing with concern. “Wha-What do you mean?” he asked, placing his hand on her’s, feeling her hands trembling in his own.

She tried to keep it all in, she squeezed her eyes shut and gathered the swirling thoughts in her head once again. “I don’t deserve them Marco, I-” she paused tentatively, biting her lip. “...I destroyed the magic and...it’s not fair Marco! It’s not fair that after everything I’ve done, after all the issues I’ve caused, after...everything....it’s not fair to miss some stupid old cheekmarks.” She felt something wet on her hands, she reached and touched her cheeks, surprised when she found her cheeks completely dry. “...Marco?!” she quickly met his eyes, a piercing pain shooting through her heart as she saw his eyes stained with dripping tears. She slowly let her hand caress his cheek, wiping a few of the tears off of his cheek. “Star…” he started, his voice getting choked up as he tried to form his own words. “You...You don’t have to feel like you deserve anything. You’ve already done so much for others and sacrificed so much of yourself to fix what you think is your burden...I know how it feels, to want to have a reason to deserve something...someone.” He gave her hands a small squeeze, the small gesture comforting the both of them. Star smiled, even with her own tears trembling down her cheeks. “You’re amazing Star, you’ve already done so much for others, and you don’t need to feel like you owe everyone this. You feel what you feel Star, it’s okay to miss them, it’s okay to feel like that part of you is missing.” Star let out a shaky sigh, “But...I’ve already caused so many issues for so many creatures and people, this isn’t as important as them.”

“Starrrr,” Marco cooed, gently pressing his forehead to Star’s forcing their eyes to connect, the couple's tears blending together into a puddle at their feet. “I want to pay attention to what I’m about to say, okay. Because what I’m about to tell you is the truth and nothing in my eyes will ever change it, understand?” The hooded teen waited for the small nod from his bestie before continuing. “None of that was your fault. None of it! You were just doing what you thought was right. And in my eyes, you're a hero! You saved everyone! Even if they don’t want to accept it, it’s true.” 

The boy pulled away and gestured to their friends and family stating, “Look around you! Everyone’s happy and safe thanks to you.” 

Star did take a long, hard look at the people in her life, the many, happy smiling faces that were all around her. She saw Jackie and Chloe sharing spicy tacos together while smiling and crying from the pain. She saw Tom wolfing down his own pile of tacos while Janna was busy taking bets from several gullible teens including Ferguson and Alfonso. She saw Pony flirting with some poor young man just trying to enjoy his breakfast, doing his best to ignore the annoying horse face.She saw Rafael and Angie playing with baby Mariposa, trying to get her to take her first steps using a taco as motivation to get her chubby legs in motion. She saw her own parents spending time with Eclipsa and her family, the two ladies watching while their husbands wrestled on the ground, Meteora clapping for her dad from her high chair. She saw Buff Frog and his kids enjoying their meal, she saw Oskar lazily handing out tacos to hungry Monsters, she saw Ludo stuffing down $650 worth of tacos much to his younger brother’s horror and dismay. 

And she couldn’t help but smile, Marco’s words finally sinking into her guilt-ridden brain. She had helped make all this possible. How had she forgotten that?

Marco noticed the joyful expression on his girlfriend’s face and continued his praise, saying, “So, you see Star, you aren’t the villain of this story, you’re the hero.” He gently turned her so they were face to face again, giving her a heartfelt smile. “And you deserve to be happy.” 

Star didn’t know how to respond to that, wiping away at her tears with the back of her arm. Marco’s hand was now on her side, giving it a very light squeeze. “And I want to make you happy, Star. Will you please let me help you feel like you again?”

Star nodded, too overcome for words.

Marco didn’t waste a second, quickly pulling out a small vial of face paint, the color bright pink and a perfect match for her lost cheekmarks. “Alright then, hold still, okay.” The blonde did just that, staying as perfectly still while her boyfriend worked on restoring what she lost. She could feel the small brush moving across her cheek, the cold liquid slowly drying against her skin. She could still feel some deep part of her screaming in panic, that this was wrong and that she was unworthy but she pushed it down. Marco thought she was worthy. And if he believed that, then she did too. She didn’t have to trust herself just yet but she knew she could trust Marco. And that was really all that mattered. 

She felt the brush pull away before moving to the next cheek, Star watching Marco closely as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration and he stuck his tongue out in the most adorable way possible. She resisted the urge to smile, knowing it might mess up the design but she did feel her heart flutter in her chest from how cute her Marco was. And for the first time in months, she felt like she deserved him. 

“Okay, done,” Marco said, Star feeling the brush lower away from her cheek as her boyfriend finished applying the make-up. The hooded teen took a step back to admire his work before nodding once in approval. He pulled out a small mirror from his pocket and held it up so Star could see her reflection.

Star gasped as she stared at herself. She hadn’t looked in a mirror in- well, she didn’t know how long actually. She had started to hate the way she looked in them, her bare cheeks only serving as a painful reminder of what she had lost and whenever she would start to miss them that was when the guilt kicked back in. So she had made a habit of avoiding them. But now, she was staring at herself again, this time with the familiar pink, heart-shaped markings standing out brightly against her skin. They looked just like she had remembered them, the familiarity of it making her heart ache. Star looked complete. Star felt complete.

 Star was finally herself again. 

And she owed it all to Marco.

 “See, you look adorable, just like always,” said bestie stated, giving her a wide, loving grin and Star’s heart felt like it might burst from the rush of emotions that look was giving her. 

“Thanks, Marco,” Star choked out, her eyes still fresh with tears as she threw her arms around Marco’s neck pulling him into a warm hug. The hooded teen wrapped comforting arms around his blonde bestie, holding her tightly and running his hands through her long hair. “I love you,” she whispered into his chest, meaning every word.

“I love you, too,” he replied, placing a tender kiss on the top of her head. The two stayed like that for a minute, neither wanting to release their tight hold as they clung to each other like a lifeline. Their hugs always went on longer since getting together but this had to be a new record. They could have stayed in that moment till the end of time, wrapped in each other’s love and warmth, if Marco’s stomach hadn’t interrupted the moment, rumbling loudly in protest to being empty. 

The two pulled away quickly in surprise, the boy’s cheeks blushing in embarrassment. “Uh sorry, my bad,” he said with a sheepish grin.

Star just giggled and said, “Guess you worked up an appetite spoiling me so much.” She winked at him.

Marco laughed and replied, “Well now that you mention it, heartfelt speeches do make me hungry.” 

“Are you too hungry for me to give you my gift now?” Star asked, giving him a flirty look.

Marco’s heart thumped in his chest. “Uhhh no, I can wait,” he said in a nervous tone, ignoring the loud growling of his stomach. 

“Well if you're sure,” the blonde said, pretending to think it over, before finally moving in for a kiss. Marco, who had been waiting for this moment all morning, closed his eyes and just enjoyed the feeling as Star’s lips captured his. Once again, it was magic. No other words could do it justice. The way her lips moved expertly against his own, the way she tasted, the way her hands gently drifted up the front of his hoodie, all of it was too amazing to describe, and the warm feelings made his head spin. When Star did pull away, Marco couldn’t help the whimper that escaped his throat. It was too short, he wanted more now that his plan was over. Forget his hungry stomach, his heart was hungry for love and affection and that was more important.

Star smiled at him, her eyes full of tenderness and devotion and with her heart cheekmarks back on her blushing, he really couldn’t think of a time when she had ever been more adorable. “Don’t worry, Diaz,” she teased, giving him a tiny kiss on the nose. “That was only part one of my gift. We have all day for me to give you the rest of it.”

“The rest of it?” he asked in a squeak. 

Star giggled. “Yep. I got more kisses where that came from,” she said with a flirting look... which instantly turned into a child-like beam as she loudly shouted, “But first, I need me some Valentine’s tacos!! This princess is hungry for more than just love today!”

With a loud cheer she ran towards the counter, drawing the attention of everyone around her. Marco paused to admire his girlfriend for a moment, taking in the twinkle in her eye and the lightness in her smile and knew he finally had his old Star back. The whole Star. It wasn’t just the cheekmarks that had been missing from her after all, he thought. 

“Come on, Marco!” Star shouted, growing impatient. “You need to come pay the man! You did promise everyone free tacos, remember?”

And with that Marco smiled and went over to join his girlfriend, ready to enjoy the rest of this special holiday with the love of his life and whatever wonderful, weird craziness that came with her.

[bae-leth]

Here are some notes regarding that Fraldarddyd Parents AU! I thought it would be easiest for everyone to put it like this. And feel free to add your own notes and HCs to this!

Crown Princess Natalia Adeline Blaiddyd. Born from Dimitri and a surrogate. Has the minor crest of Blaiddyd. She gets her looks from her father with straight blond hair and bright blue eyes. She also inherited her dad’s absurd strength, though to be fair that’s mostly thanks to her crest. She’s always been a wild child who loves to go exploring places she shouldn’t go to and getting in TONS of trouble all day, every day. Hear the distant sound of expensive stuff breaking? See tracks of muddy footprints in the halls? Are there some angry nobles looking to complain as their kids, covered in bumps, are crying behind them? Blame dear Natalia. She’s very rough and loud, “most unladylike” as many a noble will whisper. She’s also super affectionate, quick to give out hugs and kisses to those she loves. And she’s super duper protective too, always ready to fight.

Prince Artemis Edmond Blaiddyd. Born three years after Natalia and was born from Felix and another surrogate. Has the minor crest of Fraldarius. Artemis resembles his surrogate far more, with fluffy brown hair and freckles dotting him all over. But he also has Felix’s orange-brown eyes. As all the childhood friends like to joke, Artemis’ personality resembles Felix’s from when Felix was little, being super timid and quick to tears and very clingy. He’s pretty shy and constantly hides behind his dads or big sister when strangers are around. Whenever Natalia goes off on one of her little adventures, he really doesn’t wanna go but he also doesn’t like being left behind, so if his dads aren’t around he’ll try his best to trail after her. He’s most at home reading history books in the library or tending flowers in the garden. He’s an absolute sweetheart who is quick to win hearts.

When Natalia was born Dimitri refused to hold her for such a long time. Not because he didn’t want to but because he was scared to. He knew how strong he was and how he constantly broke fragile stuff even when he tried his best to stay gentle. He’d never forgive himself if he accidentally hurt his own child. At some point Felix got fed up with arguing with Dimitri over it and just plopped baby Natalia into Dimitri’s hands unexpectedly. Dimitri went still like a statue for a while before he eventually relaxed, following Felix’s directions carefully as he instructed Dimitri on how to hold Natalia. After that it was pretty common to see Dimitri looking for any excuse to hold his daughter. By the time Artemis was born he had more faith in his ability to safely hold his children.

Much to many people’s surprise Dimitri is often the stern parent while Felix is the one who easily gives in to the kids’ whims. “Felix why do I have to be the no-fun father all the time?” “Hey we all have our roles to play and yours is being a killjoy.” “Felix, I swear to the goddess-”

Everyone always thought Felix’s sweetest smiles were reserved for private moments with Dimitri. As it turns out Felix has even sweeter smiles, all of which are directed at Natalia and Artemis. He keeps denying making such sappy expressions when people (*cough*SylvainandIngrid*cough*) tease him about it.

The kids love to sit in Dimitri’s lap as he works, Dimitri enjoying nuzzling and kissing their heads while he reads treaties or annoying letters from nobles and whoever. The kids also love to trail behind Felix as he goes around delivering news or searching for updates on important stuff, Felix carrying them whenever he notices them starting to get tired and fall behind.

Despite how wild and seemingly unserious Natalia is, she’s very dedicated to growing up to be a strong and capable queen who will protect her people. She’s heard and read enough about the war her dads fought in to be determined to never allow such a war to curse Fodlan ever again, not as long as she lives.

Artemis often gets teased because, unlike his sister, he doesn’t resemble his family much. Of course anyone who bothers him about it quickly shuts up when they see the crown princess sprinting towards them, ready to throw hands.

Natalia and Artemis are close with all of the other Blue Lions and call them Uncle or Aunt (except at formal events where they have to be all proper and junk). Dedue dotes on them all the time, to the point where people joke that the royal children have three dads. They help him cook (even though they both suck at it). Dedue has a drawer in his room filled with all the drawings Natalia has gifted him over the years. And whenever Dedue goes to battle he always carries a crudely made protective charm, shyly given to him by a five-year-old Artemis who wanted him to always come home safe. Sylvain always plays with the kids (hell he’s practically a giant kid himself when he’s around them) and makes them laugh with embarrassing stories about their dads. Ingrid likes to sneak them sweets and go check out the nearby towns with them. Ashe reads stories to them and holds the record among the Lions for being able to get the kids down for their nap the fastest. Annette likes to sing with them and has taught them all of her special little songs. Mercedes is the one to mend their clothes after misadventures and heal all their little injuries with a gentle smile.

I’m adding Byleth in here because of course Byleth’s getting in on this. Specifically Bylad cause he’s my guy. Byleth grows fond of the royal kids too (“Is this what it feels like to be a grandfather?” “Byleth, what the fuck are you talking about?”). Sometimes when the Byleth visits Fhirdiad people whisper when they see the stoic and elegant Archbishop walking around, Prince Artemis sitting on his shoulders and fiddling with the flower crown on Byleth’s head while Princess Natalia has Byleth by the hand, begging him to teach her some cool fighting moves.

When the royal family visits Almyra on a mission to help forge ties between their lands, Claude gifts Natalia with a gorgeous sword, which Natalia is instantly enamored by (“Claude she’s eight.” “C’mon if she’s anything like you she’ll grow into it just fine.”). He then gifts Artemis with…an egg (“Claude, what is that?” “Don’t worry about it.” “CLAUDE.”). A few weeks after they get back to Faerghus that egg turns out to be a baby wyvern that instantly steals Artemis’ heart.

If Natalia was a unit, I can see the following for her: Strengths – Sword, Lance, Riding; Weaknesses – Axe, Reason, Faith; Budding Talent – Brawl. I see her becoming a Paladin who specializes in her both of her dads’ signature weapon styles.

If Artemis was a unit, I can see the following for him: Strengths – Reason, Faith, Flying; Weaknesses – Axe, Brawl, Heavy Armor; Budding Talent – Bow. I see him becoming a magic wielding Wyvern Lord with the same wyvern that Claude gifted him.

When they get older Natalia mellows out a bunch since she’s the Crown Princess and has her position to think of. But she’s still just as strong and stubborn as always, fierce and protective of those who she loves. A warrior princess who is the hero of many across the land. Artemis is still very gentle and prefers books and flowers to the battlefield. But he’s grown much more outgoing and is rather popular for how sweet and adorable he is.

Here's a little bonus info about Natalia and Artemis I forgot to add to my submission. When they're older I love picturing Natalia riding into battle wielding Areadbhar (does she inherit Dimitri's love of spins? she does). As for Artemis he of course constantly keeps the Aegis Shield on hand. If an enemy tries to start close combat with him thinking he only knows about magic and bows SURPRISE he pulls out the Sword of Moralta ("no fair how come you get TWO Hero's Relics?" "cause I'm worth it").

[pasteladins]

It’s for Medical Reasons, Of Course...

I made another fic for my friend @lunalove25​! It’s about her OC, Leora, and Dimitri being pining idiots! I hope you like it!

Given Dimitr’s rampage during the battle, a loss would have been a surprise. After the army gave their victory cheers on the battlefield, reality soon hit. Injuries needed to be tended to, lest they give way into more dire wounds.

Currently, the infirmary tents were filled with soldiers, healers running amok as they did their best to treat everyone. Mercedes and Annette were focused on Sylvain and Felix, as they had accompanied Dimitri during the fight. Although the king had managed to carve out a path for his allies to follow, Sylvain and Felix managed to deal with the stragglers. The action itself held consequences, as the two soon figured out from their injuries.

The tent flap opened, Leora walking in with haste. Mercedes spotted her ally, relief washing over her. “Leora! Thank the goddess you’re here! We need your help attending towards another patient.” The cleric informed her.

Annette piped in, ignoring the glares from Felix. “He went overboard again.” Her tired voice was enough to make Felix scoff.

“That beast has done this many times, but this one certainly takes the cake. Knock some sense into him.” He grumbled as Annette gave him a pout.

“He’s the king! He has to make a path for everyone! ...I just wished he would be more careful.” Ashe cut in, finishing up the touches of his own quick first aid.”I would tell him, but… he doesn’t seem to listen.”

“Maybe you can talk to him, Leors.” Sylvain suggested, his unappreciated pet name was given no acknowledgment as Leora frowned.

“I suppose I could try. He’s been quite reckless.” She added, arms crossed in thought.

Ashe tied his bandages up and gave his hand a tentative squeeze to gauge the pain. “He seems to only listen to you.”

“I wonder why that is-- Ow! Hey, Ingrid!!” Sylvain’s scandalous suggestion was cut off by a slap on the head from his childhood friend. 

The pegasus knight had her own injuries attended to. A few knicks from some arrows couldn’t keep her down. “Mind yourself, Sylvain. Anyways, it may be a good idea to check on him, Leora. He went straight to his tent without getting any medical aid.”

Leora gave a nod, wasting no time in gathering supplies into her bag. “I’ll go check up on him.” Once she finished preparing, the cleric made her way to Dimitri’s tent. One hand clutched on the strap of her bag as she stood in front of the tent.

“Dimitri?” She called, her free hand mere inches away from the flap. “It’s Leora. May I come in?”

The lack of a response worried her, and she began to assume the worst. Had his wounds been so grievous? In a sheer moment of panic, the healer busted the flap open, eyes wide with terror.

“Dimitri!” 

“....Leora!!”

“D-DIMITRI?!”

The scene before the cleric was one she would consider borderline blasphemy. There was Dimitri, the king of Faerghus, sitting on his bed with a tattered roll of medical bandages. His armor had been cast aside as he tended to his own wounds. However, what was most surprising was his attire.

Or rather, lack of. At least he had trousers on, but by the Goddess this man was shirtless.

Leora, mouth agape, stood there, body frozen in place as her brain shut down on her completely.

Dimitri was no better, his only eye wide in shock as he sat there, certainly surprised on his account. With a clear, albeit awkward, clearing of his throat, the king finally spoke.

“Did you need something, Leora?”

Finally getting over the initial shock, the cleric averted her gaze from such a sacrilegious sight. 

“I was… merely coming to check up on you! Mer… Mercedes told me you didn’t visiting the infirmary tent, so I wanted to make sure you were alright…”

“I… I see. How kind of you.”

Oh, now he was polite AND shirtless. How lovely.

Leora shook her head and gave a gracious bow. “My apologies! I know I shouldn’t have barged in, but you didn’t answer and I… I assumed you were dead and so I panicked and--”

“Leora.”

“Yes?”

“It’s alright.” The king assured. “It’s my fault for not paying attention. I was distracted by my, ah, current issue....” He gestured to the ripped up bandages lying before him.

Leora took notice, taking a careful step forward. “I see… What happened?”

Dimitri frowned. “I was trying to treat my own wounds and wrap them up, but… I broke the bandages…” He added that last part quietly, ashamed of his own ridiculous strength.

Before Leora could even control it, she let out a short laugh. He was absolutely precious… 

“Here, if you’ll allow it, I will be more than happy to help.” Leora smiled, to which the king immediately returned.

“I would appreciate that very much. Thank you, Leora.”

The way her name slipped past his lips felt better than any hymn sung by the Goddess. Her hand clenched tightly against the strap of her bag. “Of course, Dimitri.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, the cleric made her way to the bed, accompanying the king as she took out her supplies. She was quick to do her work, justifying her occasional glances at his abs by explaining that it was important to check if he was injured there.

Sure enough, there were a few injuries on the lower part of his body. Leora’s hands shook, fingers gently grazing his muscles. Dimitri sucked back a breath, causing the cleric to yelp. 

“I’m sorry!” Leora lowered her sinful gaze.

“No, no! My apologies! I must have scared you!” Dimitri reasoned, his own cheeks flushed with sudden timidity. 

Leora shook her head. “H-Here… I can do it…” She reasoned, her hands soon returning to his body. She applied an ointment meant to disinfect and quicken the healing process. Plus, it gave her an excuse to run her hands down his body, tracing the outlines and dip of his muscles. She marveled over how firm his body was as she applied the ointment. 

Unfortunately for her, she had covered every injury retained by the king. The entire time, Dimitri seemed to look at Leora, his eyes fixed on her face as he memorized her features. The way her eyes shone like the starry sky at night, how her hair would part at a certain way -- he found it to be cute. How terribly he wished to push back the stray hairs from her face. His fingers would graze her cheeks as he tilted her face. He would lean in, lips partially opened as he closed the distance until he felt her skin against his in a tantalizing--

“I have finished!” 

The announcement was enough to stir Dimitri away from his own devious desires. He glanced down only to see his body had been covered up in bandages. She had been so careful that he barely even felt it…

“Ah, thank you, Leora…” He repeated lamely, arms hanging loose at his sides on the bed.

“Please…” Leora whispered, her hand reaching out towards his and she gave it a squeeze. “...do be more careful. I don’t know what we -- I -- would do if you died.”

Her eyes glistened with tears, a sight that made the king’s heart break. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze -- as much as he could, given his strength. “I promise I will be more careful -- anything for you, Leora.” His words were reassuring. It almost sounded like a wedding vow--

No, No. Don’t think like that. Please… He wouldn’t…

“I only ask that you do the same.” Dimitri’s voice made Leora cast her gaze up. “You mean so much to me, and I would not know what to do if something happened to you.”

“Oh, Dimitri…” Leora whispered. She smiled sadly. “I will do my best to stay with you, even after this war. I will--”

“Hey! Leora! Has Dimitri killed you yet-- OW! Ingrid! How many times do you have to do that?!”

Sylvain’s booming voice made Leora jump, causing her to lean towards Dimitri. Suddenly, she found herself being held by the king, his buff arms protecting her from all the evil of the world.

“I-I’m fine!” She squeaked. “Totally fine!” 

“Well, alright.. If you’re done there, you may want to check out this big bump that Ingrid left on my head…”

“Come on, Sylvain, we have stuff to do.” Ingrid’s voice soon followed, void of any mirth. Soon enough, the sounds of their footsteps were gone, and it was just Leora and Dimitri.

Leora glanced up at the king, who stared at her. He only just then realized that his arms were around her, and he pulled away.

“My sincerest apologies! I… I didn’t meant to!”

Leora shook her head, her body suddenly cold from the lack of warmth. “No, no! It’s fine! It was… nice.”

“Beg pardon?”

“I should get going! Take care!” And with that, the cleric rushed away, face completely red from the recent ordeal.

The king merely stood there, his eye as wide as it was when she had first seen him shirtless. Suddenly, his lips curled into a soft smile, cheeks rosy with a sudden timidness.

“Thank you, Leora.”

[miserbrothersfaves]

Winter Storm Ch.5 (Snow Storm)

Summary: It's December again. Snow's favorite time. The miser brothers began the month with their normal dispute about the current temperature. It's a vigorous fight... or it was. Until there was no fighting whatsoever. Heat Miser is missing and it's up to Snow Miser to find his stepbrother. 

Tennessee was covered in snow. Not entirely unusual for certain parts of the state, but still a surprise to most. The only spot that had green grass was the Oak Ridge area. Y-12's location.

Heat barely managed to melt the ray gun. That was the third one and he was still freezing. He couldn't help but smirk at the humans wearing protective gear. They kept testing different devices on him and each time he foiled them. He started to melt the walls of his prison once again. He could see one of the humans face-palm. They were having trouble keeping him contained. Good. He wasn't going to make anything easy for them. Especially after what they did to poor Flame. The thought of them experimenting on him added more fuel to Heat's rage.

"We need to reinforce the walls... again. Turn down the temperature. Get the experimental ice mixture ready," the head scientist demanded.

"A... are you sure? We don't know how low of a temperature he can actually survive in..." one of the scientists pointed out.

"Well, we can't let him go. We went through the trouble catching him and we will keep him. HE'S MINE!" the head scientist shrieked.

Some humans, in armor, entered Heat's room with guns. Heat immediately pulled flames into his hands. Ready for a fight.

A button was pushed on a keyboard in the scientist's room. Causing a huge pile of snow to fall onto Heat. Immediately putting out his flames and successfully subduing him. One of the armored men ran to Heat and pulled out a syringe filled with a special cold substance. He shoved it into Heat's arm. Heat flinch and felt the cold flow through him. He instantly went limb. His body didn't know how to handle the sudden internal temperature change. So, he fell, unconscious, to the ground.

The head scientist slowly walked into the room. He marched up to Heat and checked to see if he was still breathing. He was. Lucky him, thought the scientist.

"Test RG3 has failed. Get RG4 prepared," the head scientist ordered. The armor men started to move Heat to another room so the current one could get repaired.

"You will bend to my will," the head scientist growled at the unconscious elemental.

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

Heat's unconscious mind slowly started to wake and kept replaying a dark memory.

Heat was inside his old home on Mother Nature's floating island. It was spring on the island. Flowers of every color bloomed. They had a small pond that had tadpoles in it. Heat was young again. A grade schooler's age to a human. The brothers were still close. Their fallout would happen the following day. Until then, they would never leave each other's side. They knew how to interact without causing the other serious harm. There was still some slip ups here and there, but they had a stronger grasp of their powers.

They were waiting for their Mother to return. She was out tending to the earth. So they snuggled together by the window. Watching some birds fly by while they enjoyed each others company. Heat nudged Snow,

"Look! The nest has baby birds in it finally!" Heat pointed out.

The birds were chirping happily. A few of the baby birds were hopping in their twig nest with excitement. One of the baby birds foot got caught on a twig before it fell over the nest and plunged to the ground. It landed on a soft patch of grass. It laid there for a few seconds before trying to fly and failing. Heat had enough.

Heat got up and went to the door. He yanked opened the green door and slowly approached the baby bird. Gently he scooped it up and placed it back in the nest. Snow was by his side. Both silently watching the nest. Neither of them knew that the baby bird would be the thing to end their relationship...

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

A winter storm began consuming Tennessee like no other. Some people had trouble leaving their own home because of the snow. It was Snow Miser. He was coming to save his brother and he brought his rage with him. He was supposed to take care of his younger brother. He failed him once. Not again.

He landed on one of the buildings' rooftops. Causing it to shatter as it turned to ice. Snow, once in the building, had no idea where to even look for his brother. There was multiple large building scattered about. He stood his full height as he looked around. Just a lot of long white hallways. No human was about. Strange. He cautiously walked down one of the hallways. Leaving a trail of snow behind him. The floor became ice, making it easier for Snow to travel. He slid across the floor as fast as he could. He was trying to feel the air for heat. Not the warm from a heater. No. Pure energy. The source of all heat itself. His brother's heat.

It was hard to feel anything but coldness. He normally loved it but now it only caused despair. He couldn't feel him. What if he was too late? He needed to keep his cool. He'll find him.

Snow hit a dead end. Great. Well, this building wasn't giving him an aura of his brother's location. Time to move to the next.

When Snow turned around he spotted at least twenty armored men standing behind him. Looked like they were all carrying flamethrowers.

"Come with us now. Unless you want to cause your brother harm or worse," one of the men, Snow assumed the leader, ordered. Snow was insulted. Only twenty? Really? They underestimated him. Snow slowly raised his arms. Trying to appear vulnerable to them.

"Now, how about we all calm down and chill," at that very moment chilly air blew pushing the armor men. The air was strong enough to shove them across the ice, which increased their speed, away from Snow.

Snow rushed up to the leader and grabbed the front of his armor. It was burning hot. Snow let out a yelp, as his hand started to sizzle before he swiftly dropped the leader. Snow pulled his injured hand close to his body. Trying to cool it down. He was hoping to question the leader but he needed another method to remove both of them from that hallway. He needed to get away from these lunatics.

Before any of them could recover to their feet, Snow called a cold wind to carry him, and his new prisoner, away.

He only carried him to another building's roof. Setting the human to the ground he summoned ice to surround him. Leaving him stuck in an icy prison. A smirk slowly spread on Snow's face. He's going to finally get some more concrete answers to his brother's whereabouts.

"Hahaha... HAHAHA!" the leader looked insane. Snow's smirk ebbed away. This human was nonchalant about his situation. This startled Snow... he subconsciously got into a battle stance. He wasn't going to botch up this rescue.

"Where is my brother?" Snow growled. His eyes looked colder than the icy vacuum of space. Snow summoned a sharp icicle. It was frowned upon to ever harm a human... but Snow considered this to be an exception.

"I honestly have no idea. I've only seen the beast a couple of times. Both times in completely different building complexes. I can say one thing. You won't see him again. If you came with us quietly then, maybe, you could have seen him one last time," the leader laughed again. Snow's temper was rapidly rising.

"I'll tell you one thing," the leader unexpectedly announced, "He's underground somewhere. Don't think I'm trying to help you though. I'll have every man and woman in the area ready to stop you down there," he sneered.

Snow lost it. He grabbed the leader, ignoring the pain in his hands, glided both of them to the ground. Moving his hold, Snow grabbed the leader throat while pointing at the frosted ground with his free hand,

"TAKE ME TO THE UNDERGROUND COMPLEXES." Snow shouted.

The leader only smirked.

"Of course, Mister Snow. I'll take you down there. You should know. You won't come back out," Snow rolled his eyes at the last statement. He was tired of this human's attitude. Snow took off his scarf and tied it around the human's wrists. Grabbing the tied wrists, he yanked the leader forward.

"Show me the way."

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

Heat Miser stirred a little but he was still forced to witness one of his worst memories...

...The next day, Snow was sick. He spent too much time in the warm temperatures outside. He was having problems controlling his base temperature. So, unfortunately, Heat couldn't really interact with him. Although, when they were waiting for their mother once more, they decided to watch the birds together again. They noticed that the same baby bird fell from its nest. This time Snow went outside to pick it up. They both knew that Snow shouldn't be outside.

------------------------ "HEAT. CAN YOU HEAR ME?!" ------------------------

They both knew Snow was sick. Snow reached down and as soon as he touched the bird it froze. It became covered with ice from the inside out. Snow stared at it in shock... he... he killed it. Heat was next to him and he could feel Heat's own body temperatures rising with his anger.

"You killed it... YOU KILLED IT," Heat was more than enraged.

"I... I didn't mean to..." Snow looked horrified. It didn't stop Heat's anger. He shoved Snow. Hurting Snow with his touch. Snow grew angry himself. He didn't mean to. So, why was Heat being a jerk about it? Snow shoved Heat back. Next thing they knew, within thirty minutes, the entire island was covered with ice and fire. When Mother Nature returned her displeasure caused there to be thunder and lightning storms for an entire week.

Neither brother ever forgave the other... ---------------------------------- Heat slowly awoke. He took note of his new prison. Once again it was covered in ice... Heat was too tired to try and get up. He gave a long sigh before contemplating his situation. He was worried about his little minions. Worried about the temperature changes outside, which must be upsetting the balance of things. Worried about the poor little animals trying to survive in an unfamiliar environment... He really missed his brother right now...

[madamedeher]

No pressure

Cullen and Trevelyan fight to release something unspoken. What happens when that becomes not enough? a.k.a the one where everyone knows but the couple.

Maybe it's just me, but I almost never see fics of Cullen pining. I thought it'd be interesting to explore that. Also I'll be loosely messing with the canon in this story. Nothing too story shattering, just a few tweaks you might notice. If you'd like, you can go to my oc page on here and see what I envisioned Maxwell to look like. (Spoiler: he's based off my own inq lmao) just go to the oc page and Andrew Trevelyan is who I described :)

Also this is on AO3! I’m a bit paranoid with the link purge but my profile is /users/ordinarycrayons :)

Come two weeks, it will have been one year since the inquisition had been formed. Cassandra tried to argue that the inquisition was official once Trevelyan accepted his role, but he thought it was too self righteous to agree to that date.

Varric, Trevelyan’s self claimed “closest dwarf” was now standing in front of Cullen’s desk, a knowing gleam to his eye and a smirk ever present on his face.

“All I’m saying is you’re invited.”

Cullen sighed lightly. Varric has decided to celebrate the first nameday of the inquisition by holding a grand game of cards. Apparently everyone in the inner circle will be there, and then some.

“Plus,” Varric leaned in a little, smugness on his face ever present.

“Max is definitely coming.”

Cullen couldn’t help but bristle. He never thought of himself to splay his emotions out on a platter, but even before Haven’s collapse Varric took it upon himself to tease the commander for his one sided infatuation for the Inquisitor.

“Like I have told you, I will probably be busy. Thank you. I will send Maxw— the Inquisitor my regards.”

“Whatever you say, Curly. If you manage to unglue yourself from your desk, invitation’s always open.”

Varric turned on his heels out Cullen’s office and once Varric was out the room, Cullen let out a breath he did not realize he was holding.

Maxwell Trevelyan was not an enigmatic man. He wore his heart on his sleeve, heaving his opinions like he does his broadsword. He seemed to have a permanent tan to his already brown skin and dark freckles that dusted his face, accentuating an innocence that wasn’t exactly there.

Cullen would often daydream about those freckles. They complimented dimples and round cheeks, making Trevelyan look much younger than he actually was. The amount of teasing they both got when it was found out Trevelyan was the same age as Cullen still makes the blond burn in embarrassment.

His thoughts on the leader had shifted recently. What it had shifted to, though, Cullen still does not know.

Trevelyan has never called Cullen by his name, always some form of Commander. In turn, Cullen always tried to make it a point to call him the Inquisitor. Even if Cullen finds himself saying it offhand to himself, noting how easy it slides off his tongue, how it would be so gratifying to have Trevelyan grab him and make him say his name over and over and— Maker.

The Inquisitor had been gone for two weeks, something about peace talks in Orlais. He’d be back by the morning, no doubt irritable from dealing with stuck up nobles day in and day out. Cullen very much looked forward to seeing him again, much to his chagrin.

Cullen stood from his desk and paced for a moment. A slow throbbing was approaching from behind his eyes, a sign that his body was getting too tired to go on without pain.

That night, Cullen touched himself, spilling Maxwell from his lips.

He didn’t have feelings for Trevelyan, oh no. Simple infatuation. Forbidden fruit. Nothing real there, whatsoever. Truly. Hopefully.

+++

As predicted, Trevelyan was back in Skyhold by dawn. Josephine was on him the moment he stepped into the fortress, asking about how it went, who he impressed, who he more importantly pissed off. Vivienne, who attended the talks, stepped in to answer. Maxwell was brooding the moment they left Orlais and was not in the mind to answer her questions.

A random Orlesian had mentioned his father, how he was a noble who fell from grace by scandal. That scandal, being him and a servant creating Trevelyan’s half sister. Great stuff for Trevelyan’s psyche to go over several, several times.

His legs walked for him at that point. His target, Commander Cullen’s office. He knew the commander wouldn't be asleep right now, as many times as they've done this.

Something of a ritual had formed between the two. When one was upset, they would invite the other to spar. Neither has ever declined the other and it proved to be therapeutic in some primal way.

With a hard knock, Trevelyan announced himself outside the office and walked in. Unsurprisingly, Cullen was hunched over his desk, though he was still dressed in casual clothing, his armor sitting well placed next to him.

Looking up, Cullen acknowledged him.

“Good morning, Inquisitor.”

Then, the ritual begins.

Trevelyan would comment on the time of day.

“Morning, commander. Up early today I see.”

Cullen would make a comment on his work load.

“Yes, I have much to do.”

Trevelyan would proposition.

“Don’t you need a break, Commander?”

And Cullen would fall for it.

“I suppose I do. Meet you by the usual place?”

The, “usual place” was near the southern entrance of Skyhold, where only some immigrants and the merchant would see them. They use to practice by the tavern, but they eventually gained an audience. Trevelyan didn’t mind, but Cullen drew the line when he overheard Iron Bull and Dorian wondering if who wins the spar means who takes the other that night.

He didn’t tell Trevelyan the exact reason why he wanted to move, citing the noise of the crowd was distracting and if Trevelyan suspected another reason, he didn’t show it. Since then, they fought in their place. Truthfully, Cullen has several places mapped if they gained a crowd once again.

Trevelyan waited patiently by their spot. He took it upon himself to grab their usual weapons. Cullen relied on a rather large wooden shield and right handed sword. Trevelyan had his two-handed broadsword tucked into his elbow, leaning on it as he waited. Both weapons were old and dull, only able to do real damage if using blunt force.

Cullen bounded towards him ten minutes later. His lion helm was left behind, but his usual armor was donned. Trevelyan wore similar armor, though his was less stylized.

“Commander.” Trevelyan handed Cullen his sword and shield, a half smile on his face.

Cullen’s heart thumped in his chest. Their sparring use to be simple, he played as it was. But when his feelings deepened into whatever they were, their dueling fueled more. An itch he couldn’t scratch was the only way he could describe it.

He watched as Trevelyan oriented himself with the sword. It was a tad smaller than his actual battle weapon, with the hilt being a thinner leather than usual as well.

“Ready, Inquisitor?”

“Always, Commander.”

No matter what, it felt like the world disappeared when they did this. In Cullen’s mind, it was just them in this moment. No Inquisition, no reports, no worry. Just them.

The pair rounded themselves, facing the other. Cullen noted how even though Trevelyan’s brown eyes looked very tired, he still managed to create a spark behind them.

Trevelyan was the first to move, stepping to Cullen’s right side, swinging his sword. It was a test, as Trevelyan never actually made his swing come all the way down to hit Cullen’s shield. The pair locked eyes again and Trevelyan let out a breathy laugh.

“Did not expect cold feet from you, Inquisitor.”

“Simply gauging my prey.”

Prey. Cullen let out an incredulous noise and suddenly charged with his shield, catching Trevelyan off guard and knocking him back with a loud oof.

Trevelyan recovered quickly, but not before Cullen got a good jab at his rib, causing the other to groan in pain. With a well placed turn, Trevelyan brought his foot up and kicked Cullen’s shield towards the left, stuttering the commander’s reflex and bringing down a harder than intended swing to Cullen’s side. It made the commander make his own noise of pain and he gripped his side as best he could.

He knew there would be a big purple bruise there in a few hours. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

Trevelyan came at him again, his sword menacingly in front of him. Cullen blocked last minute with his shield and pushed back, staggering the man for a moment. Cullen did his best to round his own sword back to the other, but it was successfully blocked by the left metal bracer Trevelyan wore. Not missing a beat, Trevelyan awkwardly switched his sword to his non dominant right hand and clumsily hit the bottom of Cullen’s thigh.

Cullen reminded himself to warn the Inquisitor about learning to be ambidextrous with his weapons. Two-handed weapons tend to spoil those wielding them.

They pushed off each other, both slightly out of breath. Mirroring the other, they both stepped towards each other and arched their swords, the swords hitting each other with a loud metallic pang. Trevelyan pushed against Cullen and the commander pushed back, deadlocking the two into a power struggle. Cullen was close enough to Trevelyan’s face he could count the freckles on his nose. He got to twenty before a voice cleared from behind him.

Trevelyan was the first to back off and an innocent grin spread on his face.

“Are you two playing nice?”

Morrigan. Cullen whipped around and put his hands to his sides. He felt as though he had been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

“I always play nice. What isn’t nice is watching people without their knowledge.”

There was no bite to Trevelyan’s scolding.

“Oh, but I am not a nice woman. Is it a crime to watch two attractive men beat each other with sticks?”

“Ah-ha! I knew you thought I was handsome.”

“Tis’ not a secret, Maxwell. I am not the shy type.”

Before Cullen knew it, he realized the pair were… flirting?

A knot of jealousy settled in Cullen’s stomach. It made him feel hotly ashamed and a bit nauseous. He brought his hand to the bridge of his nose and pinched, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply.

Trevelyan mistakenly thought it to be lyrium withdrawal pain and placed a comforting hand on Cullen’s shoulder. It made his heart beat even harder.

“As much as I enjoy this chatter, is there truly something you needed?”

When Cullen opened his eyes, he found Morrigan transfixed on him. He shifted uncomfortably under her stare.

“I was hoping to discuss The Winter Palace with you.”

Her gaze shifted between the two and settled on Cullen again, her face looking more knowing than before.

“That is, if you two are quite finished.”

Trevelyan straightened and stuck his sword into the ground. Clapping a hand on Cullen’s back, he smiled warmly at him and stepped towards Morrigan.

“I guess we’ll have to finish this later. See you later, Commander.”

Cullen watched Trevelyan and Morrigan walk off together. They started their light flirting again from what Cullen could tell and the weight in his stomach seemed to have snaked up to his chest, constricting his heart. He cleared his throat and looked down at his feet, willing the emotions to fade away. Cullen made it a point to himself to get over this crush effective immediately.

“Oh, and Commander,”

Morrigan’s voice rang out again, though she was much farther away. Cullen sheepishly looked up from his brooding thoughts.

“Shall I remind you I am not the villain here?”

Trevelyan looked between the two, settling on raising his eyebrows at Cullen. Although Trevelyan didn’t really know what Morrigan was talking about, he was surprised to see a bashful look on Cullen’s face.

+++

Cullen has not spoken to the Inquisitor since they’re last sparring. He’s not quite sure if he appreciates or hates that fact.

It’s easier to forget about his situation with Trevelyan this way, even if he misses him. Besides, it isn’t as if he is purposely avoiding the other. Trevelyan has made no attempt to talk to him. Although, that fact stings, so Cullen tries to forget that as well.

Varric’s celebration is tonight. Cullen made no plans to go up until earlier today. After a rather tedious war meeting, Leliana stopped Cullen to talk to him alone in the hallway out. Once again, Trevelyan made no attempt to talk to him and it grated on his nerves more than it should have. Them standing in the cramped space between the main hall and Josephine’s office did not help his growing nerves.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

Cullen’s voice sounded strained even to his own ears, causing him to briefly wince.

“You are going to the celebration tonight.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You think I do not know of what is going on between you and the inquisitor?”

Cullen blinked and felt the tip of ears grow hot.

“I do not know what—”

“Do not lie to me, Commander.”

“...there is nothing unprofessional between me and the Inquisitor. I say that truly.”

Leliana’s eyes were piercing, as if she was trying to read his mind. Cullen would never admit he wouldn’t be surprised if she could.

“That is precisely the problem.”

Cullen stepped back and hit his back against the brick wall. He’s sure if he saw his face it would show a look of complete and utter confusion. “Are you suggesting me and the Inquisitor start some illicit affair?”

“If I thought it would just be a some dirty affair, I wouldn’t be standing here.”

“Then I am at a loss as to what you are suggesting.”

The woman shifted her weight to her left foot and crossed her arms. A ghost of a smirk was on her face.

“I know love when I see it, Commander. It is something to be cherished. The Maker made us this way to embrace love, not run away from it. Do you not understand that?”

Cullen’s heart started thudding against his chest and he instinctively rubbed the back of his neck. He couldn’t meet Leliana’s eyes even if he wanted to.

“It is not mutual.”

The smirk widened on Leliana’s face. “Because you have been rejected, or because you refuse to consider it’s possibility?”

Cullen had no answer. He had not even entertained the thought that the Inquisitor might feel the same way. Trevelyan had made no moves, had he? Belatedly, Cullen realized he and the Inquisitor spent the most time together out of everyone in the inner circle. Trevelyan is the one whom Cullen bared his deepest struggles to, and Trevelyan was the only one to take the time to comfort him, tell him how proud he was of Cullen. While Cullen wasn’t as eloquent as Trevelyan when it came to praise and feelings, when he did do the same to Trevelyan he could swear he saw a blush come to the warrior’s cheeks. It all came naturally, and Cullen kicked himself for being so hung up on their names.

Leliana spoke again. “Are you coming to the celebration?”

Cullen steadied himself on his sword, gripping the handle hard. He tried not to get his hopes up.

“Yes.”

+++

The tavern was bustling. It seemed as though everyone in skyhold had stuffed themselves in there, from the chargers drunkenly guarding their corner of the bottom floor to even Vivienne chatting idly to Dorian and Solas, all three drinking some expensive wine Varric managed to get his hands on.

Trevelyan was drinking a tankard of beer with Blackwall, Cassandra, and Varric. Their conversation devolved the more the night went on. While he didn’t drink that much, Trevelyan saw his companions get more and more inebriated. By the time Varric managed to round up the inner circle for their wicked grace game, Sera was asleep on the floor and Bull was so loud it was starting to make Trevelyan’s ears ring.

“And THEN, and then, oh shit boss you’re gonna love this one, and then he went, ‘But I barely knew her!’” The table erupted in incredulous laughter and a solid eye roll from Cassandra. Trevelyan tried to hide his laugh behind his drink, clapping Bull on the back for his story. Naturally, the conversations went on. His hand in the card game wasn’t great, but he didn’t really mind. It felt good to celebrate something amongst the string of tragedies he has to deal with.

Varric sat next to him, the two occasionally sizing each other up. Josephine was the best at the game, but Varric could bluff like nobody’s business. It gave Trevelyan a sense of confidence being around him when playing wicked grace. It wasn’t until he jabbed Trevelyan in the ribs with his elbow did he get his head out of the game. He nodded his head towards the entrance of the tavern and Trevelyan’s eyes landed on the blond that was making his way through the door.

Cullen walked towards the table but stopped just short of it. Varric stood up and waved the commander over.

“Glad you made it Curly, saved a seat for you.”

Trevelyan looked wide eyed at Varric who shot back a wink. He went off to drag another chair to the table, leaving Cullen to sit down next to the inquisitor.

Cullen’s entrance didn’t stop the flow of conversation, but Leliana, who was leaning against one of the support beams in the tavern threw Cullen a look. She turned to whisper something to Cassandra who was some steps away. Cassandra not so subtly glanced at the pair with raised eyebrows. Both Cullen and Trevelyan looked elsewhere to avoid the questioning eyes.

“I… guess I have arrived too late for the game.”

“Don’t worry, there will be plenty more rounds. Lest we forget your last game.”

Cullen smiled at Trevelyan despite the embarrassing memory. “Ah, I do not plan on losing my clothing tonight, though.”

Trevelyan perked up at Cullen with newfound confidence. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

Something told Cullen they might not be talking about the game anymore and he looked away shyly. He never knew what to do in these situations. Especially since this is the first time in many years he wanted their affections in the first place.

“S-so, uh, I feel as though we have not seen each other in a while.”

Trevelyan deflated at that and Cullen recoiled slightly wondering if he said the wrong thing. Thankfully, Trevelyan continued on the conversation. “Why is it always I who seeks you out? You’re free to come to me for a change, you know.”

A hardened tone took over Trevelyan but he still tried to mask it with a forced lightness. Cullen felt the guilt wash over in a wave. He had never thought about that. For the past year, it had always been Trevelyan who progressed their friendship. It hit Cullen that even if he had feelings for Cullen, Cullen was not showing any signs himself that it could go anywhere. Tonight felt like it was a turning point in their friendship— or what it could be.

“I came tonight. I… hope that is a sufficient start.”

“You act as if you came to the party only for me.”

It was invitation to go further, Cullen saw it clear as day. Trevelyan was baiting him to go farther, and he knew he would always go for his game.

Cullen acknowledged him.

“Perhaps… perhaps I did.”

Trevelyan craned his seat to look out a window at the far side of the wall to their left.

“It’s getting quite late, Cullen.”

Cullen’s eyes widened and he could feel his pulse thud in his ears. He wanted to ask Trevelyan to say his name again, over and over. It was by far the only sound Cullen wanted to hear from then on. He had half a mind to ask him to say it again before he remembered what he was doing.

“Yes, I finished my reports early.”

Trevelyan prepositioned.

“Well, I’m sure you deserve a long break.”

And Cullen falls for it. Every time.

“What do you suggest we do, Maxwell?”

The grin that split onto Trevelyan’s face was unfiltered excitement and it made Cullen mirror one of his own.

“Walk me to my quarters? It is just so late.”

“Of course, dear inquisitor.”

+++

Cullen had never been in Maxwell’s quarter’s since it was being built in the first place. It awed him how much of Maxwell emanated from the room since he last saw it. The Orlesian linens had been replaced by woolly blankets and fluffy pillows that looked perfect for winter. The couch, desk, and bookshelves were all the same but had been covered by different memorabilia Maxwell had collected over the past many months. His desk especially was cluttered with dozens of half written missives and reports. Cullen wonders how he manages to get anything done with the mess in the way. Incense sits in the air as well, a mix of cherrywood and lavender. It relaxed both of them greatly.

Behind him Maxwell stokes a fire he lit. It was late fall and a chill had comfortably settled over skyhold.

When the fire seemed to be going full force Maxwell stood. He and Cullen shared a brief moment of eye content before they both looked away nervously. Maxwell admittedly didn't think this far into this, considering he didn’t even think Cullen would accept the offer to walk him to his room.

“I like your quarters.” Cullen blurted out after a beat of awkward silence.

“Do you?”

“Yes, I now know why you smell so good.” He faltered at the tail end of that sentence. Cullen inwardly smacked himself. You smell so good? Maker, Cullen, you’re bad at this.

Maxwell laughed behind his hand, “Thank you. I’m glad my… smell? Pleases you.”

Cullen hoped his face didn’t seem to red, but just in case he looked down at his boots to hide at least some of the embarrassment.

Maxwell walked towards an empty loveseat that was in the corner of his room and pushed it towards the fire that crackled noisily. He sat down casually and patted the spot next to him, beckoning Cullen who obliged readily.

“I’m glad you agreed to come with me to my quarters. I’ve… admittedly missed you. And I’ve been wanting to speak about something.”

This time it was Maxwell looking down at his feet. Cullen wanted to reach out and hug him.

“What did you want to speak of?”

Maxwell took a deep breath and looked up, but not at Cullen. “Cullen, I care for you, more than what I’ve let on and I—” He shook his head and tried to gather his words.

“I don’t— I don’t know where I’m going with this. I just want to know if you could care for me as I care for you.”

Cullen felt his mouth dry and he swallowed thickly. He tried to bring up words but nothing seemed to do justice.

“I could. I-I mean I do. I’ve… often wondered what I might say in this situation.” Cullen’s voice wavered a tad but he continued, “I didn’t think it was possible for there to be something, much less admit to it.”

“Now that it is possible, what do you intend to do?”

Maxwell was looking at Cullen now, the pair meeting each other’s eyes. Cullen shifted closer to Maxwell and started to slowly lean into the other’s space, closing his eyes and hoping he’s met with what he wants.

With a sharp intake of breath, Maxwell met Cullen halfway and kissed him.

Cullen had imagined this a dozen times, in a dozen different ways. He knows it’s cliche to say it is like no other, but he can not remember a time where something as simple as a kiss filled him such an indescribable joy.

They seperated momentarily, looking into each other’s eyes with a newfound ferocity. Cullen grabbed Maxwell by his collar and pulled him back into the kiss, their mouths naturally falling open to explore the other. Maxwell tangled his left hand into Cullen’s hair and moved to straddle his lap, his other hand finding itself on the other’s waist.

It stirred something familiarly warm deep in Cullen’s belly, causing him to involuntarily moan. He could feel Maxwell smile into the kiss and it caused him to smile back, effectively ruining the kiss they had going. It devolved into a fit of shy giggles and chaste face kisses between the two.

“I can’t remember the last time I was into another man’s lap.”

Cullen pressed several kisses along Maxwell’s jaw and neck, causing the other to crane his neck back for better access. A passing thought wished Cullen would divulge in as many love bites as he could.

“If I get what I want, I’ll be the last lap you’re in.”

Maxwell meant to softly put their foreheads together but misjudged the force of it and thonked their heads together, causing another bout of breathy laughter.

“Whatever you want, I’ll grant it.”

Maxwell brought his hips closer to Cullen’s and ghosted contact. In retaliation Cullen settled his hands on Maxwell’s hips and brought them together himself, the hard grind bringing groans out of both of them.

Their lips connected again, the kiss hard and wet. They fell into a slow rhythm, grinding until they were both hard and desperate against each other.

“Grant me a spot on your bed?”

Maxwell smiled crookedly and stood, taking Cullen’s hand in his and leading him to the bed. They kissed on their way there, unbuckling and fastening each other’s clothing the best they could until they fell on the bed in their underclothes, never separating until both needed a breath. Carefully, Maxwell made his way from Cullen’s mouth down his chest, leaving a trail of wet kisses across his torso and taking a moment to lavish a nipple with teeth and tongue. It made Cullen’s breath hitch in his throat, stifling a kean that came with it.

Calloused hands made their way down Cullen’s soft thighs, tracing a map for Maxwell’s lips to follow. It was slightly ticklish, Maxwell’s plush lips mixed with his rough stubble rubbing against his thighs, it forced Maxwell to steady a hand against his stomach to keep him from squirming too much. With steady hands, Maxwell pulled off Cullen’s last bit of clothing and discarding his own in the process.

They stared at other, breathing heavily. Maxwell tried to drink up the sight in front of him as much as he could, while Cullen tried to commit to memory what it looks like to have one of the most powerful men in Thedas kneeling above him completely naked.

Without wasting another second Maxwell puts his lips to Cullen’s dick, kissing the head, then spreading them just enough to suckle at the tip. Cullen quietly gasped, swallowing hard. It had been years since anyone had touched him this way. He never thought he would find someone he trusted enough to take to bed, yet here he was, thanking Andraste and the maker himself for allowing him to climb into Maxwell’s space.

Maxwell got more bold as he worked, taking more of Cullen into his mouth. Cullen unconsciously thrusted into Maxwell’s slack mouth. He couldn’t very far, the arm that steadied him earlier was placed back on his stomach, restricting his movement. A frustrated groan escaped Cullen before he could catch it and caught Maxwell trying not to smile. The brunet pulled off and licked the precome that got on his lips. “You’re so cute.”

Cullen flustered and pressed his lips into a tight line. He didn’t trust himself not to say something completely embarrassing.

“Can… can I take you?”

That got Cullen’s attention. Maxwell had settled himself in between legs that Cullen didn’t know he could spread that far. Maxwell had clear sight of his hole and it made Cullen want to close his legs out of bashfulness, yet he relented on the thought.

“Y-yes. I… I don’t… I’ve never...” Cullen looked up at the ceiling, willing the Maker to not let him mess this up.

“It’s okay, we, um, we don’t have to.”

“No! I mean. No, I want to. I just... have never been taken. Please, I do want you.”

Maxwell flashed a warm smile then pressed a long kiss to Cullen’s lips.

“If anything becomes too much, you know to stop me right?”

Cullen nods and takes a deep breath. He lets his legs fall open as they were and watched Maxwell’s gaze fall from his face to between his legs. He knew his face and chest were flush red yet he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. Maxwell reached over him to ruffle inside his nightstand for a small container. When opened, the smell of mint and earth filled the air and Cullen looked at Maxwell questioningly.

“Don’t ask why I have it, but it’s oil with a special root infused. Will help with comfort, helps relax muscles.” Maxwell dipped his fingers into it with a shrug. The liquid was even thicker than oil and the smell made Cullen’s nose tickle.

When Maxwell made first contact with Cullen’s hole, he circled his index fingers around the ring before pressing up to his first joint. Cullen tensed under him, not parsing the feeling very effectively. It was hard to describe, especially since Maxwell took this as an opportunity to start sucking his cock again. He sighed, but it turned into a breathy whimper. Maxwell finished pushing his first finger into Cullen, quickly doing the same thing with his middle finger. After a moment of adjustment, Maxwell pulled his fingers out only to slowly put them back in. It took everything in Maxwell not to fuck Cullen right there, the man above him spilling little mewls and begs the more he moved.

Maxwell didn’t have to explore the inside of Cullen for long before he found his spot, causing the blond to buck up into Maxwell’s mouth and choking his lover, making him sputter on his dick.

“Oh— oh Maker I’m sorry, so sorry.” Cullen slurred a little, hazy from the pleasure he was receiving but nonetheless felt bad for choking Maxwell. The other man shrugged and smiled, coughing a little.

“No need to apologize. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like that a little.”

Cullen gasped and Maxwell chuckled lowly, pressing a small kiss to the top of Cullen’s thigh. He moved his fingers again over Cullen’s spot, making him moan and slam his eyes shut. Occasionally, Cullen would be able to find it himself when he fingered himself, but he was always too awkward to get the right angle. He wondered what else Maxwell would be able to tease out of him. The thought made him shudder.

“I think I’m ready, please, Maxwell,” Cullen pleaded, pulling at Maxwell’s arm to get him close. Maxwell obliged and settled above Cullen, but he didn’t expect Cullen to grab his cock and shakily stroke it, causing him to cry out. He ignored his own pleasure for the sake of Cullen and didn’t realize how desperate he was starting to get.

Swatting Cullen’s hand away, Maxwell lined himself up with Cullen, pressing the tip to him and slowly pressing in, causing both of them to moan. Maxwell hitched Cullen’s legs up to wrap around his waist, of which Cullen readily clung to.

Maxwell added more oil to where they joined and in a slow swoop put his cock to the hilt in Cullen. Cullen shook below him and Maxwell kissed all over his face, from his nose to his cheeks to his lips.

They stilled, letting Cullen adjust and Maxwell catch his breath. Cullen was... divine. Tight and warm, so soft and sweet under him. Somewhere dark in his mind wanted him to be like this more often, pliant and cute, wanting to be taken care of. Without thinking, Maxwell searched for Cullen’s hand, binding their fingers together to help anchor him. He left little kisses on Cullen’s neck, letting his free hand stroke Cullen’s side.

Cullen breathed heavily, feeling increasingly impatient in the stillness. “You… you can move…”

Not needing another cue, Maxwell experimentally rolled his hips, making Cullen grunt and seize. Another thrust, and another, and Maxwell falls into an easy rhythm. The thrusts weren’t particularly fast, but they were deep, causing Cullen to whimper everytime Maxwell bottomed out. Again, though, Cullen grew impatient and requested Maxwell go faster. He happily obliged, quickening his pace.

It was Maxwell’s turn to groan, the pleasure that coiled in his stomach making his shake. He buried his face into Cullen’s neck, tightening his grip on his hand and latched his lips on the tender skin, surely leaving a love bite for later. Cullen under him was alternating between moaning and catching his breath, the slap of skin ringing obscenely through the room. If the balcony doors had been opened even a fraction the couple would have surely been heard.

Maxwell was lost in the scene but caught himself enough to move to stroke Cullen’s cock. A low sob emanated from him, Maxwell not only stroking him but his thrusts brushing against his prostate. Cullen’s eyes were shut so hard he was starting to see stars behind his eyes and every thrust pushed out a chorus of ah ah ah.

Cullen’s free hand found its way into Maxwell’s hair, pulling hard and making Maxwell loudly whimper. Cullen foggily made sure that he would remember that for later.

Maxwell removed himself from Cullen’s neck and pressed their foreheads together. Cullen took it upon himself to kiss Maxwell open mouth. The kiss was noisy and messy, neither of them having the right mind to fix it.

It wasn’t long before Cullen felt that telling coil in his belly. His toes curled and his mouth fell slack, his eyebrows furrowing and a long deep cry left his mouth. Hot strings of come covered both of their stomachs, Cullen shaking and bucking against Maxwell, his body not knowing whether he wanted to get closer or farther away from the thrusting.

Maxwell willed his eyes open to watch Cullen come undone, which only egged on his impending release. His pace quickened brutally, his thrusts getting out of rhythm. Cullen writhed and loudly whimpered, overstimulation getting the best of him.

Maxwell tried to bury his head in Cullen’s neck again but Cullen stopped him, pulling his hair again and keeping his face where it was so he could watch Maxwell cum. His eyes screwed shut and he yelled brokenly, spilling inside Cullen, his stroke only breaking when he couldn't physically go on.

The two of them breathed heavily, Maxwell falling on top of Cullen after a moment. Cullen felt like jelly under Maxwell, and urged for another kiss that Maxwell happily gave him. He pulled out after they pulled away, both of them shuddering at the loss of contact.

Taking it on himself, Maxwell cleaned them off with a wet cloth from his wash basin. He discarded of it and quickly made his way back to the bed, lavishing Cullen in little pecks on his face.

Maxwell was the first to speak. “Are you okay, honey?”

Cullen nodded and smiled lazily, tackling Maxwell onto his back and throwing a leg over his.

“I’m more than okay.” Cullen’s voice was listful and soft. The good feeling in his heart had shackled itself there.

“Are you staying here tonight?”

Cullen swallowed and looked at Maxwell. “May I?”

Maxwell grinned and snaked his arm around Cullen’s shoulder, grabbing on the blankets that were jostled off the bed and throwing it across the pair.

“I’d love nothing more.”

The fire made earlier was dying down but the blanket was warm enough between them. Nonetheless, Maxwell snuggled closer to Cullen, placing a kiss to his forehead.

For the first time since either of them joined the inquisition, they went to sleep without a worry.

+++

Josephine was tipsy and counting her winnings from wicked grace. She scanned the room but didn't see her desired person anywhere. "Has anyone seen the Inquisitor? He promised to have a drink with me after I won!"

Varric let out a hearty chuckle and Bull gave his own belting laugh.

"Haven't you noticed who else is missing, Josephine?" Bull's voice boomed and his tankard sloshed.

Josephine looked around again and noticed Commander Cullen was gone as well.

"Are they fighting again? At this time of night?"

Varric leaned into the table and raised his eyebrows.

"They're doing some sword fighting alright."

Bull laughed and Cassandra who caught the tail of that conversation sneered.

Josephine looked at Varric before it hit her. Oh. Oh.

[vagrantblvrd]

A Better Place to Land (1/1)

Summary: Gavin’s been in trouble before, but nothing like this.

Notes: Prompt fill for Anon who asked for hacker!Gavin running into the Fake AH Crew, :D?

AO3

Nature of his line of work and all. Up until this point he’s been fortunate enough that no one’s been able to identify him, just think of him as an anonymous figure on the other end of a phone call or internet connection.

Granted, there had been the situation in England that made coming to the US seem like a good idea. And that other situation about a year or so later that led Meg to his door and so on. A few close calls since then, but really, nothing like this.

Stumbling over a pile of secrets left sitting around where just anyone could find them and realizing too late how important they were. The kind of idiots who’d left said secrets all but unattended discovering someone (Gavin) had found them, and now-

Well.

Now there are people running about the city looking for him. Nasty little smirks and this look in their eyes like they’re going to enjoy collecting on his bounty. (Dead or alive, or so it goes, and dead is always easier for their sort.)

The worst bit is that there’s nothing impersonal to it at all, with them. No “just business and no hard feelings”, because that he could tolerate. Understand a bit better, but the ones who get sent after him all tend to be of the twisted sort who like their jobs a little too much to be considered wholly sane.

He doesn’t feel nearly as bad as he ought to then, when he catches them in his little traps around the city. The ones he leads straight into the hands of hostile gangs or the police. (Both of which are notoriously territorial and tend to shoot first and ask questions later in this city.)

It works out for a bit, although it’s inconvenient as all hell. Has him running about all over the city and it’s exhausting. So it’s no surprise at all when his luck runs out on him in the figure of the Vagabond and his little friend with appalling fashion sense. (Rimmy something, and he hopes for his sake it’s not his given name, because that would just be cruel.)

They’ve run him to a roadside motel outside the city. First place he’s had time to get more than an hour of sleep at a time and stepping off point to leave Los Santos and his troubles there behind. Maybe go back to England or take Meg up on her offer to cause a little mischief across Europe for a bit, but it looks like those plans aren’t going to happen after all.

(Point of pride, stupid as it is, that he’s led them in circles around the city as long as he has. Cat and mouse and a ruined car or two for them that made it costly for them, although that might come back on him soon enough.)

“Well then, that’s that, is it?” Gavin says, still half asleep because he’s been on the move for days now and exhaustion finally caught up to him.

That, and the bullet graze from some bastard a few days ago.

Caught Gavin with his guard down, and he’s still annoyed about that one because it makes running far more painful. (He suspects it might be infected with the way he feels, all tired and slow and stupid and aching all over.)

The Vagabond stares at him. Tall, dark, and menacing in his ridiculously effective outfit as he blocks the only escape route in the room while Rimmy-whatsit pokes around Gavin’s laptop.

Every so often he’ll look over at Gavin like he thinks Gavin will up and hand over his passwords because the Vagabond’s looming over him. (To be fair, it’s a good intimidation tactic, but Gavin’s seen better.)

This wouldn’t be Gavin’s choice of places to die – unbelievably drafty and the carpeting is some ungodly pattern - but he suppose most people don’t get a say in that sort  of thing.

Gavin opens his mouth to say something, anything really, because all this silence is unnerving, when a third person bursts through the door.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, c'mon, we have to leave. Travis’ goons are on their way here. Grab the little shitweasle and let's get the fuck out of here!”

Gavin frowns, because ‘shitweasel’ is a new one, isn’t it  - but the Vagabond’s already moving, Pulling Gavin to his feet as he jams a gun against his side.

The new figure starts packing up Gavin’s gear and he catches what looks like a snarling wolf’s head on the back of his jacket as he moves past.

The Vagabond is recognizable enough, and he’s been known to work with others in the past, most notably Rimmy-whatsit.

It’s the one with the wolf on his back that really brings home the amount of trouble Gavin’s found himself in because he must be Mogar, and everyone in the city knows he’s a Fake. (There are rumors starting to make the rounds that the Fakes have managed to snare the Vagabond somehow, and Mogar’s presence is rather damning.)

Gavin’s still coming to terms with that realization, which is why he reacts without thinking when he sees Mogar and the other one packing up his laptop and gear carelessly.

“Hey, be careful with that!” Gavin snaps, and gets a little shake from the Vagabond as a warning.

“Could you not?” the Vagabond asks, first thing Gavin’s heard him say this whole time.

Mild enough, but the hand around Gavin’s arm tightens in time with the pointed  jab of the gun in his ribs, and right, right.

Not really the time.

Gavin ducks his head, fingers twitching as he watches the others treating his gear without the necessary care in their haste to clear out.

He gets shoved into the back of a car idling in front of the motel. Dark red and armored from the looks of her, and Rimmy-whatsit gets in beside him.

Unspoken threat in the flash of his teeth, and Gavin plays meek and mild because he’s not in the best position at the moment and it pays to be underestimated.

========

They take him to a warehouse and leave him in a room tied to a chair with Rimmy-whatsit keeping an eye on him.

Mirrored Aviators and that damnable cowboy hat and perfectly neutral expression on his face. Not even a twitch when Gavin tries to engage him in idle chatter, and that’s just disheartening.

There’s a chair sitting opposite Gavin, and he feels tired just looking at it knowing what’s to come.

Offers and incentives and when those don’t work, out come the threats. When those don’t work, they’ll start with the so-called “demonstrations” that tend to leave scars. It never changes, as though all these people are working off the same script. No originality to them at all.

With Rimmy-whatsit doing his best impression of a statue, Gavin has four blank walls to stare out as he considers the situation he’s in and all the ways it could go badly for him if he doesn’t cooperate with them. (Better than it could be, because the Fakes, at least, can be reasoned with.)

At some point Mogar comes in with a medical kit and sees to the bullet graze on Gavin’s leg. There’s angry little scowl on his face, and this snarl in his voice as he looks at the makeshift bandage.

“The fuck is this?”

Gavin shrugs as well as he’s able given his binds.

“Well,” he says, not quite sure what to make of the fact they’re giving him medical care. “Not like I could just pop down to the store to get medical supplies with you lot looking for me, now could I?”

It’s not just the Fakes Gavin’s talking about, but they’re the ones who gave him the most trouble. Never fell for any of his tricks or traps, and that had been more than a little annoying.

Mogar growls, and Gavin has to bite back a laugh because he’s not sure it would be appreciated at the moment.

“Well good job on that one idiot, because it’s infected.”

Hmm, yes, it does seem to be, doesn’t it.

Red and angry and foul enough that Gavin can’t look at it without feeling nauseous, but Mogar’s careful about it as he cleans the graze and bandages it. Sits back on his heels and gives Gavin this odd look as though he wants to say something, but isn’t sure how to go about it.

“Thank you,” Gavin says, because his grandfather taught him manners, and there’s no reason not to use them now when Mogar’s shown him unexpected kindness.

“Let one of us know if it gets worse,” Mogar says, disgruntled look on his face as he leaves.

========

Gavin spends another hour mapping various water stains on the ceiling before he decides enough time has passed that it won’t seem too suspicious to request a bathroom break.

Close enough to the truth, and he didn’t get a good look around when they bundled him in here earlier.

He’s not even sure where the damn place is located thanks to the armored car. (Helpful things, those, but by their nature not great for taking in the scenery, what with the armor plating over the windows and such.)

Rimmy-whatsit gives Gavin a deeply suspicious look, but apparently would rather Gavin try something stupid than make a mess while he’s stuck guarding him.

Gavin gets a brief look around on the way. Sees empty storage racks forming aisles on one side and a space for vehicles on one side. (No mystery what the warehouse is normally used for then, although the state of it implies it’s new property for the Fakes or hasn’t been used in some time.)

They happen upon the Vagabond and Mogar along the way, the two of them arguing with someone over speakerphone.

Rimmy-whatsit shrugs at them as they pass by, and then they reach the restroom.

“Don’t fucking think about trying anything,” Rimmy-whatsit warns as Gavin steps inside.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Gavin says brightly, and quickly does his business as he contemplates what he knows.

Honestly, it’s not a hopeless situation.

While these three are hardly thrilled with him after what he’s put them through this past little while, they’ve treated him well. Gone so far to give him medical treatment, even, and that’s promising.

The warehouse is laid out about as he’d suspected and the lack of noise filtering through makes him think it’s somewhat isolated. At the very least not in a high traffic area, which -

“You done in there?”

Gavin makes a face and looks around for something to dry his hands with and realizes too late there isn’t anything at all. He settles for shaking water off his hands best he can and opens the door to see Rimmy-whatsit eyeing him suspiciously.

“You’re out of paper towels,” Gavin says brightly, and holds his hands up.

Rimmy-whatsit sighs as he grabs Gavin’s arm and gives him a gentle push to get him moving.

“Sorry to hear that, pal. Sounds rough.”

=========

Gavin’s in the middle of formulating an escape plan. Terribly risky with a minimal chance of success, but awfully tempting all the same, when the door opens.

A pair of familiar figures walk in with the Vagabond and the others taking up flanking positions. (A bit overkill, really, considering Gavin’s not much of a threat at the moment.)

Ramsey and Patillo, and oh, what a day it’s been.

Gavin smiles, this tired little thing as Los Santos’ very own Kingpin strolls up to him, head tilted just so.

“You’re the one who’s been giving everyone the run around?” he asks, like Gavin’s not at all what he expected, and honestly, Gavin gets that a lot.

He blames Vinewood.

All those dashing actors playing the parts of hackers in terribly cliché movies which just leads to disappointment when people meet him.

Gavin just looks at him, because first off, rude, and secondly -

Well, it’s not like this is going to go well for him, so he’s not about to make this easy on the bastard.

The corner of Ramsey’s mouth ticks up in this amused little smile as he glances to the Vagabond and the others.

“Do you realize that these assholes have been trying to find you for a while now?”

Oddly enough, yes.

Gavin is very much aware of that fact.

He’s lost the use of several safehouses and boltholes, called in favors on top of favors to slow them down. Feed them false information to buy Gavin just a little more time, and it’s been a bit of a bother, overall.

“Have they?” he asks, mimicking Ramsey. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Patillo snorts, smiling placidly when Ramsey shoots him a look.

“Jack?”

Patillo shakes his head, little smile on his face as he takes a step back, fading into the background, and Gavin goes very, very still.

He’s been warned about Patillo.

Ramsey’s right-hand man and the one who handled the less glamorous aspects of a crew like the Fakes in its early days. Not much else is known about him aside from the largely unhelpful bits about him being an amazing pilot. Said to be quiet and mild-mannered in contrast to certain other members of his crew. (Until he’s not.)

Ramsey turns back to Gavin with this look on his face. Gaze dropping to the bandage on his leg and Gavin -

“Michael looked at that for you?” he asks, sounding as though he’s genuinely concerned Gavin’s being taken care of while they have him tied to a chair in a warehouse.

(Such a gracious host.)

Gavin glances at Mogar – Michael? He’s scowling a little even now, and it’s charming.

Such a grumpy bastard, that one. Snappish and snarlish and surprisingly kind under it all.

“He was lovely,” Gavin says with a little smile tacked on. “They’ve all been very, very lovely.”

The strangest thing about it is that they have, really. Despite the chase Gavin led them on and little inconveniences (somewhat annoying that that’s all amounted to in the end) he threw at them they’ve been more than hospitable.

Ramsey eyes him as though he’s trying to decide if Gavin’s manage to hit his head somewhere along the way or if he’s always been the way he is.

“Have they now,” he says, and now the man’s mimicking Gavin mimicking him, as if things couldn’t get any more bizarre. “Interesting.”

They stare at each other for a long moment, and the whole thing must be too much for the others because -

“For fuck’s sake, get on with it, Geoff. We don’t have all fucking day for you two to dick around.”

“Michael has a point,” Ramsey says, and it looks like they’re finally going to get to the matter at hand.

Ramsey sits down in the chair across from Gavin and leans forward, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together loosely as he studies Gavin. Calm and relaxed and very much in control.

And Gavin -

He’s not exactly at his best right now, really. Tired and worn down, bit battered and bruised and that nasty bullet graze that’s made matter worse for him by becoming infected in spite of his best efforts.)

“You wouldn’t happen to be in the market for a job, would you?” Ramsey asks, definitely not at all what Gavin was expecting from him.

Gavin stares at him.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but the city’s in an uproar at the moment.” Ramsey pauses for dramatic effect. “Word on the street is that you’re the reason.”

Not so much Gavin himself as what he found. Bout of idle curiosity and the kind of luck that lands him in all kinds of interesting situations.

People always react badly when they realize their dirty little secrets aren’t quite as secure as they’d like. Go to great lengths in order to prevent them from being exposed, do all kinds of terrible things. (Especially politicians when they happen to have close ties with criminal organizations they’d rather the public not know about, such as Travis.)

Ramsey smiles, spreads his hands as he lays out an offer.

Contract work, by the sounds of it. Help them with a situation their pet hacker is having difficulties with – and no wonder when it involves the IAA’s database – and some intel that requires finesse to acquire.

“You might have noticed,” Ramsey says,  wry twist to his mouth as he gestures at the others. “These assholes wouldn’t know subtle it if bit them in the ass.”

The Fake AH Crew do have a reputation for being a bit...rambunctious.

“A bit, yes,” Gavin says, because his third favorite safehouse went up in flames thanks to them.

Ramsey snorts, and it’s an interesting process to watch the Kingpin facade melt away to reveal the man underneath it all.

“Travis isn’t going to forget about you,” he says, as though they’re old friends catching up after a long time apart. “He’s got a long memory, and with as many...supporters he has in our line of work, he’s got the resources.”

And the will, because the man’s making a bid for city.

Thinks the title of mayor would suit him wonderfully, and after that there are higher seats of power he plans to aim for. All of those dirty little secrets Gavin found would ruin him if they ever got out.

Gavin says nothing, waiting to see -

“We’re not exactly fans of the man ourselves,” Ramsey says with a grimace.

They wouldn’t be, would they. Not when Travis has been exceedingly vocal about “dealing with” the Fake AH Crew, has made it something of the basis of his campaign.

“I wouldn’t think so, no,” Gavin says, and knows what Ramsey wants.

Travis’ secrets, and in exchange they’ll offer him protection.

It’s not the worst idea, really.

They’re known for being rambunctious, yes, but also for dealing fairly with those who deal fairly with them. Reputations for looking after their own, and little love for bastards like Travis and his ilk. (And somehow they’ve managed to do what no one else in this damned city has by somehow getting the Vagabond on board with them.)

At the very least, it will prove to be interesting.

“The IAA’s database you said?” Gavin asks, because he’s never tried something with that level of security to it.

“They think they own us,” Ramsey says, little flash of teeth to show what he thinks about that. “Keep coming to us to fix their mistakes, and it’s getting a little old.”

Oh, there’s clearly more to it than just that. (Too much anger in the man’s eyes for something as simple as that.)

Gavin should think about it, consider his options and all, but -

“Sounds interesting,” Gavin says, because he could do worse for himself than see what this lot have to offer, where it might lead. “I wouldn’t mind giving things a try.”

========

Complications

[bettsplendens]

I live within the path of hurricane Irma (I didn't have to evacuate, thank goodness) but I'm really sad right now. Could I please have some headcanons for Soundwave and his symbionts? Thank you.

Ravage will, in fact, play with laser pointers. Only in private, and only when he’s feeling energetic, but he will. Rumble and Frenzy are not allowed to hold the pointer, though, because they like to get him wound up and then lead him to run into things. 

When Ravage was a tiny kitten, Soundwave would wrestle the tiny predator with his data-cables, after wrapping cloth or silicone around the parts in use to protect from tiny claws. They no longer do this because Ravage is too strong, but Ravage still automatically flops over and starts flailing at the air if he’s relaxed and something cable-shaped is wiggled over him. Pieces of thick hose will do the trick. 

Rumble and Frenzy like to get involved in Decepticon parties, especially the parts that involve boasting about one’s interface partners, and are protected from even the boldest opportunists by the silent threat of what Soundwave will do to anyone who harms them. No matter how drunk they are, they are going back to their quarters, and only back to their quarters, unless they decide otherwise. And Soundwave will still come scoop them up if they get drunk enough to be particularly stupid.

The twins tried to wrestle approximately everything when they were young, so Soundwave made them an ‘opponent’ out of a bundle of tubing, tied into something like a bulky pom-pom, that they could wrestle until they were exhausted without bothering anyone else. If he had to keep them occupied for an especially long time, he would hide small energon treats among the pieces of tubing, which would cause them to wrestle the toy in search of more until they were tired enough to just fall asleep.

Laserbeak is Soundwave’s oldest (followed by Ravage, then the twins), and he really didn’t know what to do with her for years. She didn’t mind, though, she didn’t know what to do either. They get along great, always have, but Soundwave was very confused when she was first born because he didn’t know what to do with a symbiote. Nor did he know what it felt like to birth a symbiote, which was extremely confusing at the time, and made Megaton incredibly concerned when his loyal friend started dripping fluid from his lower chassis. 

As a tiny, flat sparkling, Laserbeak couldn’t fly well, so she skittered around on her pointed legs most of the time. She looked like a little diamond with optics. Strangely enough, she absolutely adored being thrown like a frisbee, even though she staggered in crooked circles for quite some time afterwards due to getting dizzy. Soundwave was baffled by every aspect of this, but obliged her, albeit narrowing their bond considerably so he didn’t feel the wooziness. 

Soundwave and all the symbiotes have all seen each other in various states of nudity, including as armor-free as is possible for each frametype. Some of this is incidental, some of it is intentional- there’s no point in them being shy around each other. 

The symbiotes (especially the twins) tend to chat about their interface partners whenever possible. Soundwave doesn’t actively participate, but he listens if requested- he likes hearing that his little ones have been enjoying themselves. Even if the twins get very graphic and make him wonder where they learned to do these things.