#Treaure Chest

[cryptocollectibles]

Treasure Chest #5 (November 1961) by George A Pflaum

Written and drawn by various.

[intcritus]

The presence of the aureate King long announces him before he opens his mouth, filling every crevice of the room with ease, demanding the attention be upon him. He knows it, of course, but bears it little mind for it is only natural that one such as he cast such greatness. Instead he only crosses to the enthralling artist, pausing as he takes in the array of creations in their various stages of completion in the room he has offered as a studio.

"Oh. I had wondered what had kept your attention diverted and now I see that the throes of creativity have consumed you. Enough so that all manner of time is lost." Arms fold across his chest as carmine eyes study those pieces still in the midst of process and those that stand completed, taking in the beauty that remains pleasing to the eye, a fine treaure for his kingdom.

"The hour has come for the walk around the city. Leave your tools, they will not be needed." Audacious perhaps not to frame it as a request, but the King has little need for asking, he only need demand his every whim and it be his, and the walk had previously been discussed. He had framed it as a chance for inspiration beyond the walls of the ziggurat, a chance for him to walk among the people too, a rare but valuable practice to see Uruk's might and fortitude. It is pleasing to see the fruits of one's labour after all.

Salem found inspiration in everything. Whether it be the very King himself, or just in the food being fed to them. The tastes unique, the audacious nature of Gilgamesh always caused inspiration, simply because there's no one who existed like him. Maybe in another time, but the phoenix revels in being around someone whose aura filled the room anytime he entered. Maybe that's why instead of finish the original project they'd began, others had come into fruition. From paintings of people he's seen, Gilgamesh upon his thrown, cheek in fist, to scenery of the sky and it's ever changing colors.

Colorful wings keep them afloat as they mold the towering structure of a man, in his prime, arm cradling a lion cub that's already biting into his forearm. They aren't sure why, but the vision of it had came about suddenly, and now the phoenix is just molding the finishing touches into perfection before brightly colored flames solidify the sculpture. Concentration broken by Gilgamesh's voice, they blink down at him before narrowing mismatched gaze down at him. Gliding back down, Salem dusted their hands off before ambling over to the King, wings folding inward before smirking, ❝ ━ Pretty soon, you'll have an entire treasury to hold everything I create for you. Isn't that lovely, King ? ❞

Chuckling softly to themselves at the thought of the countless pieces they'll create filling a designated space, Salem disappears for a moment to freshen up, hands cleaned of clay and paints before coming back to Gilgamesh's side. ❝ ━ Do you often take a chance to walk among your people ? To hear their complaints and compliments ? Or is this a normal duty for a King such as yourself ? ❞ Curious nature comes out to play as he falls into step beside the other, eyes taking in everything as they make it outside. It seems silly not to ask when they'll be here for awhile.

Uruk was fascinating to a being that wasn't from here, but then Salem also wanted to know what kind of King Gilgamesh was ? One who clearly got what he wanted, but what about what was below the surface of that ? ❝ ━ Do you travel with a guard ? Do you have trusted accomplices ? A lover, perhaps ? Eh, you seem like the type whose a lot to handle, maybe you have others trailing behind you, waiting on you hand and foot. ❞ Humor becomes alight in their gaze, pink lips stretching into a grin as they return their gaze to him, ❝ ━ Uruk offers me lots of inspiration, but I'm afraid your answers to my inquiries might paint me a different or maybe boring picture of you, King. ❞ They tease easily, hardly worried but it's still humorous all the same to the Phoenix.

in which the phoenix teases the king, because they can. | @resolutepath

[codythesemiaquaticwerewolf]

Speaking of underwater, here's another one! This time Cody finds some treasure! ^w^

I also did a little bit of shaders (& an Ice Age 4 easter egg) and an story that will accompany this!

The story:

So there Cody was, standing on the docks looking onto the sea. the sunlight reflects its yellow glow onto the teenage lycanthrope fellow as today is very hot, not only perfect for a swim but also perfect for a treasure dive & search.

For today, he prepared himself as he looks at a heavy rock his paws are holding. The rock is held by a long rope that is tied to both his feet separately in each end of it, this allows him to sink further however he has to untie them once he reaches the bottom. Luckily, he has a strap tied to his leg with a scuba knife equipped.

All of that may seem like a very dangerous stunt to most non-aquatic furs, to Cody however this is no issue for him as he smiles slighty & infact nofur has done this before.

The brown-colored werewolf took a deep breath as he takes a step back and then runs with rock in hand as he jumps, lets go of the rock that is connected to his feet and splashes into the sea. A large swarm of small bubbles cover his entire fur as he sinks down further while he hold his breath, his hair and black cape being lifted & drifting around.

As soon as he falls into the water, he clutched his sun pedant necklace, turning it into a crescent moon & beginning his aquatic transformation. He stops holding his breath as gills open on his chest & neck, although letting some infinite bubbles out from his mouth & snout. Fish-like fins grow around himself along with his tail having transparent ones.

Another fin, this time reminiscent of a shark, also grows on his back. Otter-like membrabe or webbing grows around his four paws & armpit, allowing him to glide underwater.

Finally, the transformation is complete as his paw feet starts to flop, they elongate along with his toes, which are fusing with the webbing as they flattened, sprouting himself some flippers.

After some sinking later, The rock Cody is tied to hits the sandy floor as he lands on it second with his flippery paws, crouching while raising his arm. He looks around the sea around him, coral & fish residing here peacefully. The temperature has been adjusted to Cody to be as lukewarm as possible.

The now aquatic wolf takes out his scuba knife from his leg strap as he proceeds to cut the rope that are tied to his flippers. His feet fins manage to free themselves from the rope as Cody then hops off the rock and starts swimming around the sea towards some hidden treaure waiting to be found, kicking his flopping webbed paws & fish tail altogether like a dolphin or merfur.

Cody explores around the sea underwater, looking for treasure to find while a school of fish follow him like he's one of them. Cody smiles a little as he takes a can of fish food from his leather bag, pours it onto his webbed paws and feeds the fishes as they surround him like curious pets. After that, Cody continues on swimming, passing through an forest of kelp without trying to get tangled by it.

Throughout the journey, Cody almost forgot that still leftover cut rope on his flippers. The fish-wolf sits on the sandy floor & unties them, leaving the leftover rope behind as he hops & kicks his flippery feet altogether once again.

That's when Cody spots something wooden near 2 rocks peeking his curiosity as his kicks his flattened paw fins faster. The object was a sunken chest, a treasure chest for sure. Cody goes excited as the happy wolf creature spews out a lot of bubbles from his snout & mouth, sitting on his knees as he picks the treasure chest with his webbed furry paws. All that swimming & searching really have payed off.

Cody hovers off a little from the ground. He opened the treasure chest in curiosity, hoping it wasn't yet another faux treasure chest. And to his surprise, there was lovely gold inside! Jewelry, coins, etc, its glow shining around the chest. Cody was so excitedly happy that he let out a lot of huge bubbles escape from his muzzle as he flaps his fins, ears & tail, there were also fishes around him who were curious. The now happy aquatic werewolf look up into the surface, ripples waving through the water, he felt it was time to emerge from the sea & back into land.

So, Cody closed the treasure chest to not let any gold escape as he kicks his feet flippers & fluffy fish-finned tail altogether like a merfur, launching himself towards the surface with the chest. While resurfacing, the bubbles escape even more through his muzzle as they form an bubble respirator around it. Cody manages to splash back into the surface, leaning himself like a mermaid & taking a gasp of fresh air. He sees the beach as he swims towards it.

When Cody reached the beach, he stands up & puts down the treasure chest as he dries his fur by shaking around like a dog after swimming. He clutches his necklace again as it turns back into a sun. He then turns back into a regular wolf person as his fins & webbing regress back into his skin hidden beneath the fur, his gills closes as his fin feet shrinks back into just paws, allowing himself to walk again without wobbling on land.

[hauntedhearse]

one of my posts I created as part of the Quest Squad and I thought it was pretty lol ∞ 

[stargazer-balladeer]

Can i request prompt no. 10 and 21 for childe 🥺🥺😍😍😘😘🥰🥰💞💞 Thank you!!

Childe

Prompt 10: “I can’t hear you~”

Prompt 21: “You’re so cute when you’re angry.”

Notes: ASHUXJEG THIS IS PERFECT. THANK UU BERY MUCH— and why am I not surprised to see Childe first? HAHAHA. Hope ya’ll enjoy it!

Warning: Minor cussing-

[x] Main Page || [x] Prompt Masterlist

“I swear to the Archons, Childe, that if you don’t put me down—!” Childe only laughs as he continues to run with you in his arms in a bridal style. You shriek as your hands instinctively wrap around his shoulders.

“You’ll do what?” Childe asked in a teasing voice while he continues to run. You glared at him, which doesn’t faze him, as you snarled back. “I’ll fucking kill you-!”

“What’s that? I can’t hear you~” Childe laughs at the last part. “Now that’s a lie-!” “Hold on, sweetheart. As much as I like our banters, the Treaure Hoarders are still chasing after us. Unless you have a better idea then I’m all ears.” Childe said in a relatively calm voice, which is strange because you two were being chased by Treasure Hoarders while you were in his arms, leg injured.

You huffed but kept silent, knowing that he’s right. He smirked as he continued running through the forest. “Thought so.”

——

“We managed to outrun them.” Childe exclaimed. He sat down by the tree, with you on his lap. You blushed as you try get off of him but his arms tightened around you. “Childe-! Let go of me!”

He laughs weakly. He puts his head on your shoulder, his chest heaving from all the running he’s done. You felt guilty of course. Even though it was his idea to go head-to-head with the Treasure Hoarders, you still manage to get hurt and risk both of your lives.

“Hey..” You quietly whispered, but Childe still heard is as he hummed in response. “Sorry for that back there. If I wasn’t being careless, then you wouldn’t have run.” You mumbled while you played with your fingers nervously.

Childe sighed aa he smiled, almost cheekily actually- “Then, if you’re really feeling sorry, why not kiss me to feel better?” You blink before blushing madly, his words finally registering in your mind. “What-?!” “C’mon! Just a peck~”

“Hell no!” You said while pushing him away. He laughed. “You’re so cute when you’re angry.” You only glared at him as you stood up, wincing a bit when you applied pressure on your injured leg. He watches as you started to walk (limp) away from him.

“Hey! Where’re you going?!” “Away from you!” He blinks before laughing again and standing up. “Wait for me!” “Are you deaf?! No! Stay there!” He quickly ran towards you.

“You know you can’t get rid of me that easily!”

[on-a-lucky-tide]

I just read your kear morhen fic with jask and kitty aiden and wolfy witchers. And OMFG! I wish I could just give you a trillion likes and reach through the phone screen and give you a big hug!!!! It was amazing!!! But now, I'm wondering.. jask has seen it but how will ciri react??? I think she would totally join in. She's still at an impressionable age and could totally pick up a few behaviors... Or act like a lion cub.... and will try and sneak attack the others like a real lion cub does!

Sssshhh. We’re huntin’ bardses...

It was a beautiful, crisp day at Kaer Morhen. Jaskier sat on the railings of the main stairs leading up into the entrance hall and plucked aimlessly at the strings of his lute. Oh, how he missed the summer, but there was something truly majestic about the ancient, Aen Sidhe Keep framed in an endless blanket of white snow and coniferous trees. She was like an old, stately lady reclining in a throne of stone. Glorious. Hmm, throne, stone, snow… bow…

Little did Jaskier know; he was currently under extreme scrutiny. His very life hung in the balance.

“Keep low,” Aiden breathed. Only tiny slivers of luminescent green escaped the consuming black holes of his pupils. His hand rested in the middle of Ciri’s back, urging her lower to the floor. They were currently obscured by a stack of crates; Ciri would have to navigate uneven terrain to reach her target. But who better to give the Lion Cub of Cintra a pouncing lesson, than the King of the Pride, right? “You need to pay attention to the wind direction, the ambient noises, the—.”

“What’re you up to, losers?” Lambert stomped up behind them; Aiden immediately lunged to snag his wrist and drag him down to their level. The target looked up, glanced behind him, and then shrugged with a shallow frown. The wind did carry voices, after all.

“We’re hunting bards,” Aiden hissed, and Ciri grinned up at the both of them, her tongue sticking through the gaps in her teeth where a few had fallen out in the last few days. Not knocked out, you understand. Fallen. She was still but a cub, and she was growing in her Big Lioness teeth. “So shut your trap.”

“Oh, f—,” Lambert started, clamped his mouth shut, and then hunkered down with them. “Have you told her about the wind direction rule?” 

“Yeah,” Aiden murmured. “Not as important though. Bards can’t smell for sh—sugar.”

“If this is training, then she needs to know the fu—fudgin’ wind direction rule,” Lambert grumbled.

“Oi, can we focus here?” Ciri cut in, and then flicked her head towards their chirping target. “I know the words ‘fuck’ and ‘shit’ too, so cut that out.”

“Not from us though, right?” Aiden murmured, and Lambert smirked. “Okay,” Aiden looked back, his pupils blew big again and he shimmied his shoulders. “Move quickly, don’t lift your feet too far off the ground.”

“You need wide, sweeping steps,” Lambert cut in. “Keep your breathing slow. No panting.”

“Now, if we wait until he starts singing—,” Aiden held his breath.

Jaskier struck a chord, took a deep breath, and began his serenade. “To adore you is all my life, fair Ettariel, let me keep, then, the treaure of memories. And the magical flower; a pledge and sign of your love. Silvered by drops of dew as if by tears...”

 “Go, now, go, go!” Aiden urged Ciri into action and she flew forward. Her speed, for such a young age, was impressive, and the soft leather of her boots made no sound as she covered the uneven flagstones of the courtyard with grace and poise. The bard didn’t stand a chance. 

“Ack!” Jaskier cawed as he was taken out with a low shoulder tackle. “Your majesty, Ciri—by Melitele’s ti—ahh, bloody hell! What in—?” They fumbled around in the snow, Jaskier’s lute about a meter away, until Ciri was sitting on his chest in triumph. She looked across to her two uncles with a broad grin, and then looked thoroughly disgruntled when she saw them rolling around with laughter.

Jaskier tilted his head and glared at them. “I should’ve known this was you two, mark my words, you rapscallions. My revenge shall be swift and petty! Do you hear me? Swift. And petty.”

“Whatever, bard,” Aiden smirked, chest still wheezing and breathless. “Hey, Ciri. Fancy some tougher game? Heard Eskel’s weaving some baskets in one of the workrooms.” 

“Eskel,” she left her prey in the snow and tapped her chin. “Yeah, go on then. Laters, Jaskier.” 

With a broad grin, she trotted after Aiden. Jaskier stumbled to Lambert’s side, brushing off his doublet with quiet grumbles. “You need to watch that, you know, that young, they imitate everything. She could become a mirror image. Not so much the Lion Cub of Cintra as the Mangy Kitten of Novigrad.”

Lambert huffed. “If she becomes half the person Aiden is then she ain’t doing too badly,” he reached up and knocked Jaskier’s newly restored feathered cap from his head, and then departed towards the stables. 

Hat retrieved from the snow for a second time in as many minutes, Jaskier watched after Lambert’s retreating back with a soft, knowing smirk.

[bleedvnghearts]

MY HOUSE IN BUDAPEST MY HIDDEN TREAURE CHEST ft. clint&natasha

1. budapest // george ezra 2. cowboy like me // taylor swift 3. immortals // fall out boy 4. unsteady // x ambassadors 5. paper rings // taylor swift 6. team // lorde 7. someone you loved // lewis capaldi 8. false god // taylor swift 9. survivor // 2wei 10. movement // hozier 11. vulnerable // selena gomez 12. the driver // bastille 13. i know places // taylor swift 14. iris // the goo goo dolls 15. like real people do // hozier 16. a drop in the ocean // ron pope 17. kiss me slowly // parachute 18. delicate // taylor swift 19. hit me with your best shot // adona 20. the archer // taylor swift

[ @falsegcds ]

[flywiththewindclan]

Wish Rising?

 Easy: 

Any Baldwin mats

Any little openables

Satin Mices (I collecting them)

Medium:

Iron treaure chests

Strange chests

Hard: 

Tertiarty gene: Firefly 

Any amount of gems and/or treasure

[thedaisycrownwitch]

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Varric Tethras, Pinja Tuva (OC)

Pairings: implied; Varric x OC

Warnings: none

Words: 3.289

Inspired by:

that feeling you have late night, when you imagine something in your head so well, it gives you goosebumps

that feeling the first minute of "Bitter Sweet Symphony" by The Verve gives you, when you listen to it in the dark (last paragraph only)

Disclaimer

This is more experimental at places then what I usually write, so I hope that doesn't cause too much confusion.

Also, this was kind of a late night, 2 am random rambling, so if it gives of those vibes, its because, it was.

________________________________

He leaned back against the wooden planks, as he watched her shooting with the crossbow. His arms loosely crossed in front of his chest, while he nodded softly in approval. The recoil was still throwing her back a little with every shoot, but she was getting better. She was a clever girl, it wouldn't take long for her to understand how this all worked. Of course he wouldn't give Bianca to her, she was his treaure, but giving Pinja some practise on such a weapon as her, would do her some good, Varric thought. Maybe the girl could get her own crossbow in time, when she was good enough? Yes, Varric would like that a lot. Mostly because he liked the way she handled Bianca.

She had been hesitent at first when he offered Bianca to her, to try her out, since she knew the crossbow meant a lot to Varric and he wouldn't let anyone else touch it unsupervised. But he had insured her that it was fine. "She had worse." He had chuckled, before showing her how to hold his weapon. Maybe she only remembered it because of that. Cause it caused quite a rush in her, to feel his chest against her back, when he positioned her hands and slid his leg between hers to position them right. Pinja was hopelessly crushing on the author, and the more he interacted with her, the more hopeless she became in her desire.

He moved his glance away from her shooting Bianca, looking over into the distant mountains. There was something about this girl, this small town dwarfen girl, that was different. He wouldn't let anyone else touch his Bianca, yet somehow, he was fine with letting her shoot it, sometimes for hours, and even when he was not actively checking on her. He found himself lost in thought more and more often, not of boredom, but of relaxation. Bianca was in good hands. Soft and small ones, but gentle and careful with the trigger and wooden frame of her construction. Truth be told, he couldn't have asked for a better fit for Biancas second user.

Pinja placed the crossbow upon the table, before she went over, to get the arrows she shot, back. There were no bulls eye in her shots, but it was progress that she hit all into the target, and not the wall behind it. Bianca packed quite a punch, more then she was used to from her bows.

She pulled the arrows out of the straw, before returning to the table, Varric already waiting for her. "I'm gettin' the feeling you're improving quite a bit." He greeted her back, and she was very sure she heard a bit of pride in his words. "I hope so. Would be a shame if you sacrificed your and Biancas time for nothing." She joked, placing the arrows on the wood, before looking up to the other dwarf. He smiled at her. She hated when he did that. It made the fluttering inside of her only worse.

He couldn't hide his pride, and he honestly felt pride when he looked at her. She joined the Inquisition not too long ago, and seems to get used to this new way of life quite fast. Scout Harding helped as well, of course, but strangely, Varric found himself in Pinjas company quite often, and if it even if it was just sitting side by side, either doing their own thing. It was...strangely calming, he would describe it. And right now, it was the best it had ever been, at least from his perspective.

Pinja set down on the opposite side of the table, crossing her arms and placing her head upon it. Eventho she was quite average for a dwarf, human tables were still a little high for her in most cases. But that was fine, just meant more place to rest her head. Just relax and watched Varric, who tended back to something he wrote. She liked to watch him work. The way his feather scratched the paper, and how he licked his lips, when he was thinking over a particular part, where the wording wasn't to his liking yet. How this tounge would feel against hers, she sometimes wondered. She might never know. That thought made her sad, so she didn't think about it to often.

Varric was tipping the end of his quill on the wood, thinking over what he just wrote, or at least pretended. This was just an unimportant letter. The wording didn't really require any change. But thats not what he was after. He watched her. Watched her watch him. He knew she did, eventho she tried to hide it. She wasn't good at hiding it, in fact. He saw her eyes following the turning of the feather between his fingers, and tensed when he wet his dry lips. He saw how her lips parted for a few moments, showing a little bit of her teeth, before her tounge darted out just a little to wet her upper lip, but she wiped the wetness away with her hand close to her face a matter of seconds later. She was nervous, or lost in thought when she wet them, only realizing later what she did. It was weird. Her nervousness, he couldn't explain it. Well, he could, but he didn't want to explain it to himself in any of the ways he could think of.

She quickly turned her head away, when she noticed that he watched her, turning her look towards the courtyard. She shouldn't look at him like this, imagining these things. No matter how fuzzy they made her feel, and wet her mouth in anticipation. It was so temping...to imagine how he embraced her, his hands sneaking down her sides, uniting in her front, while he pressed himself against her back. His warm breath getting caught in her nape, as he rasped soft words against her skin, which as much meaning and deliberation like in his stories. Or how he would take her away from the other, taking her here, then behind he shed. Gently trapping her between the wooden wall and his body, not letting her escape... He heart started pumping, her breath was getting heavier, just at the thought. A soft layer of goosebumps covered her skin, while her mind got lost in the haze of this moment, that would never happen, yet was so real in her own head.

Did he want to ask what was wrong? No, not really. Not that he didn't care, he cared a great deal about her being well, but he was probably reading too much into this. He did that all the time, making up stories, he was a writer, Makers Breath, but maybe it was too much sometimes. She was fine. If something was wrong... He hesitated. She didn't want to bother people. Maybe there was something... He kept writing, but only with half his consciousness, as if to allude that everything was fine. Meanwhile he tried to read her again. She had barely spoken to him, not unusual, they spend a lot of time not exchanged a single world, yet she wasn't relaxed, not like he used to see her relaxed at least. He could see her breath, oddly heavy...her eyes were closed, did she nap away? No, she was too tense to be asleep.

His hands resting on her sides, as he stepped closer, pressing one leg between hers, softly forcing them apart. His breath on her lips, the smooth, dark velvet of his voics lingering in the air. Maker, she wanted it, she wanted it so bad! It was frustrating...so frustrating it made her want to cry in anger and helplessness. Why her, why him, why this? Was is possible to desire someone so much you felt it? In your body, in your heart, in your own head? She was so desperate, it shouldn't be possible to feel this much desperation. And yet...doing it? Actually physically doing it? No. Even more unthinkable. How would he react? Probably disgusted, appalled. Pushing her away, telling her what she already suspected...

"Pinja?" She looked over when she heard her name. Varric put his quill aside, having decided to focus fully on her. "Are you alright?" He then asked, letting worry spill into his words. A unfair move, as he knew, she would be compelled to answer, knowing he was worried, yet a technique he employed to get an answer at all. She set up quickly and nodded. "I'm fine, just...a little tired..." she replied, her word trailing off, as she looked down onto her hand on the table. He kept silent. There was more, they both knew it, just what exactly wasn't clear for him. "It frustrates me that I haven't mastered Biancas aim yet." She then added. Ah. So that what he saw in her. Frustration. Yes, he could understand that.

It was not even a half truth. Yes, she was a little sour over her unability to man Bianca, but she only started to try her out a few weeks ago, it would take more time. She knew that. So she lied. So he would be at ease. She didn't want him worrying about her. She didn't want him to worry, it stung her heart. Maybe...maybe leaving him alone would be best. These feelings, she had, they were not the kind you dealt with in front of the person you had them for. She should go, she felt like. "Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it." The dwarf comforted her with a smile, while she got up, her heart thumping in her chest to heavily, she could swear he would see it. "Thanks." She said simply, as she gathered her things, mostly loose paper, and some charcoal from the sketches she made. Many of then attempts to draw a portrait of him, yet failed in the simplest stages and given up on, doomed to become food to the fire later.

He set up straight as he watched her get up and gather her things. Did he say something wrong? Not that he could recall. Her urgency was a little alarming. Usually she stayed with him till he went to bed, but not today. She seemed off in general, he had noticed. It wouldn't be unusual to be insensitive about a matter, but his insensitivity was with method, not just random. What could have tipped her off, they barely talked. Maybe it was that? Suddenly he felt guilt over what he said, or rather didn't say, in this case. Softly he laid his feather down upon the table, rising from his seat. "Wait, please." The dwarf asked, kindly, a tone not often heard from him. He watched her stop, the leather with her sketched clutched onto her side. "Listen...if something is wrong, you can always talk to me, alright? I'll listen...and no, it doesn't matter if it a stupid thing." He interrupted her, as he saw how she took breath to answer him.

Why would he say such a thing? It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the offer, quite on the contrary, she'd love to just pour her heart out to him, but what would he say if he saw the pieces of the puzzle, and put them together. The picture he'd see...it would destroy what they had now, undoubtedly. She didn't want to loose this. It made her heart cramp, but at least she could be close to him in this way. But he wanted an answer. He had seen right through her, that she wasn't fine. Letting him leave with no response at all...he would question it. Pinja turned back, straighting up her shoulders a little. "Its...this whole thing." She then said, as she set back down on the edge of the bench. "First the conclave, then Haven and now this, this...archdemon mage...thing..." She sighed and took a deep shaky breath, before she looked up to him. "I don't know how you can take all that so well." Nothing of this was a lie. It was a deep concern, she pushed aside to not curl up in a ball and be scared for her life, never leaving her room. Her words rewarded her with Varrics soft look, or his equivalent of it. It still had this light sparkle or sarcasm in it, but most of it was warmth, a warmth that she felt pouring in her chest just this moment.

There it was. He knew that she was hiding something from him. There was no hiding from Varric, he knew people, and he knew her. And honestly, he could understand. He himself? An adventurer, a writer, friend of the champion of Kirkwall. This was like every other day to him, just another apocalypse in a line of catastrophes. But to her, a small town girl? This must really feel like the end of the world...which it was, quite frankly, but in another way then it was to him. "I understand that...honestly, if I could, I'd be outta here before you could say 'Andraste's Ass', but I wanna help. And Marker, I am scared, trust me, you're not alone in that. Everyone here is. If they weren't, they'd be more stupid then a Nug running into a wolves den." He said, a light smirk playing with his lips, while he looked at her. "So...you don't think I'm a baby for being scared...?" She asked quietly, giving him a look, that, he could swear, wanted him to just aww right into her face. She was so genuinely innocent in her thoughts...it was almost too pure.

She waited for an answer, nervously, playing with the leather strap, holding her drawings together. Maybe she shouldn't have asked, it was a stupid question, but there was no taking back now, unfortunately. But instead of slipping into a roaring laughter over her idiocity, Varric gave a soft chuckle, opening up his arms in an inviting manner. "Come here." The writer commanded her softly. Pinja however hesitated upon the offer. Was he actually serious? He must be messing with her. Varric Tethras offering her a hug? His must be a dream, something of her imagination, he would never... "Come on, before I change my mind." He chuckled, lightly making an inviting movement with his fingers. She got up, swallowing hard, and stepped over to him, carefully wrapping her arms around him, placing her head onto his shoudler, so he couldn't see her face. Then she froze.

He almost rolled his eyes at her hesitation. Was she thinking he was gonna bite? Tell around that he gave her a hug? No, he had a reputation to keep, yet, he wanted to take some of that burden off her, just for the moment. He felt like she needed it. His arms lightly wrapped around her waist, holding her softly against him. "There we go...that wasn't to hard, was it..." he chuckled softly, unable to hold back.

This was it. He was here. They were here. Standing here, hugging each other. It was actually real. And she was just frozen in the moment. Her heart was baging against her ribs, like it tried to break out of her chest. She felt lighthearted, while a fuzzyness took over her inside, a tingly sensation rising from her stomach up into her chest. Yet...her lower jaw send a shockwave of pain through her skull, her eyes feeling tense. No...this... She tried to breath in, the bit of air she could master into her lungs, filling them with his scent, sending a shiver down her spine. Maker...his scent...it was so perfect...how could it be so perfect...musky, like ink, old paper and fire... Slowly she turned her head, pressing her nose into his coat. She closed her eyes, letting the scent carry her thoughts away for a moment. Her fingers were struggling to grab into the fabric, fighting if to follow her knowledge of not doing it, or the instict of grabbing into him for dear life. The warmth of his body was sweeping into her clothes, making her feel home like not many things could. Her lower lip started to temble, as her eyes overflowed in joy and sadness at the same time, sucking the breath out of her lungs through sheer emotion only.

For a moment Varric thought everything was gonna be okay. Just a friendly hug. She was taking it well. Then he heard it. This sound of a breathless voice, whimpered and then a sniff. Shit, she was crying. How could he have misjuded the situation THIS much? A little error was always there, but this...this was different. He placed one hand on her lower back, his other stroking over her shoulder. "Its fine, Flower..." he encouraged her gently, dropping the attitude, for just a few minutes. He could do that. He felt like he had to. He felt her shoulders twitching under his hand, as he breath became stuttering, fueling the soft wheeping. Shit, what should he do? "Hey...look at me..." he tried, in lack of alternatives, lightly pulling away his head from hers, while his hand reached down, gently placing his fingers on her jawline, to guide her face somewhere he could see. Here eyes were red, a little bit of liquid running out of her nose, as she could barely keep her eyes open to look at him. It wasn't pretty, he wouldn't pretend. But it was genuine. And thats what he needed to see.

His facial features were blurry to her, as she tried to control her sobbing, only making it worse through it. This must be what it felt like. To loose your mind. She was sure of it. It was so much, and yet not enough, and it would always be that way. There was nothing to take or give, just this, and she wanted to scream in anger and sadness. But she didn't...he wouldn't understand, how could he... She just stood there, looking at him, while he sobs faded slowly; just standing there, trying to focus on him. But he didn't leave. Just stood there, in the same place, while her soul wept over a situation that was biting his own tail. Painful and unable to let go of it, knowing the pain would get worse, if the bite would be undone. Slowly she closed her eyes, trying to relax them. Her view felt strained, her chest empty. She needed air. A deep breath, her breath still stuttering, but softly now. Calm...its fine...this is fine... A warmth engulded the skin on the left side of her face. She opened her eyes again, blinking a few times to shed the last few tears blurring her vision. He was looking at her. His hand holding up her head, that felt to heavy right now. There was a dull pain hammering against her skull from the inside, it felt bad. But the warmth...it was making it better. She relaxed, letting the full weight of her head fall into the warmth of his his hand. Another deep breath. A soft stroke of a finger over her skin. Another deep breath. A warmth against her forehead. Breathe. Warm air against her skin. Breathe. Another gust of air, a warm tingle in small of her back, a shiver running down her spine. Breathe. A touch against the side of her nose, lingering there, warmth. Breathe. A soft warmth against her lips. A shiver rising up from her lower back over her spine, breath catching up in surprise, fingers looking for something to hold on, digging themselves into fabric...breathe...warmth. Warmth everywhere. All over her body just wamth and comfort. She leaned in a little more. Fuzzyness and warmth. Two breaths crossing...the faint taste of alcohol against her tounge...

Shit.

[cruciferousjex]

Negociations (an Entrapdak fluff? ficlet)

Some context: Prime has begun his invasion on Etheria. After being horribly rejected by Prime and left for dead once again, Hordak is saved by Scorpia who - unable to stand his pain - tells Hordak that Entrapta is alive on Beast Island. He ofc goes to find her. At this point the two of them are hiding out on Beast Island together, as it is ironically one of the few safe places left on the planet.

>>>

They sat huddled together near the entrance of the cave, listening to the dull roar of the nighttime wildlife. Night was was by orders of magnitude louder than day on Beast Island. Night was when the shrieking birds came out, when the carnivores screamed for mates, when the great reptile beasts roared and stomped to protect their eggs. It was an insufferably atonal symphony of horrors only broken, for Hordak anyway, by the sound of Entrapra's voice, and only then because he still could not quite believe that he was hearing it, that it really was her, here, next to him, neither having betrayed him nor having been killed.

The first fear was quickly eclipsed by the second when Scorpia told him the truth of what Catra had done. He supposed he should have killed Scorpia for this betrayal, for having kept it from him as long as she did, but in the choas of the invasion she'd slipped away. He did not give chase, Scorpia was not his priority. His sole focus became Beast Island and the recovery of Entrapta, so that they might resume their research and find a way - any way - to escape the planet. Prime could not be stopped. Their only option would be to steal a ship and escape as far from the planet as was possible in this pocket universe, and then genetate a portal - to anywhere.

But tech was not on his mind as he made his way to Beast Island, nor even escape. What was on his mind - quite primarily and to his equal fascination and dismay - was her hair. As he tossed the bodies of a pirate crew off a Horde armored transport - stolen from him and his to reclaim, after all - somewhere in the back his his mind floated her hair, the soft weight of it on his shoulder, how smooth it had felt when it once or twice touched his face. Her hands, her eyes, her ... her *voice.* It was admittedly bizarre, that in the aftermath of his every failed plan, of Prime's invasion of Etheria and complete rejection of him, that the only thing he could think of, that occupied his mind day after day like a vulture pecking and gnawing on a corpse, was the hair and hands and eyes and voice of a woman who was most likely dead.

[[MORE]]

She wasn't. Of course she wasn't. He chastised himself for ever having underestimated her. She had of course survived on Beast Island, as she was brilliant and adaptable enought to survive anything, and had in fact saved him from certain death not long after his arrival there, swiping him from being ground to death in the gullet of some giant scaled and fanged horror. She tossed him out of harm's way with her hair and put the beast down via handmade crossbows she'd built from the island's steel tensile vines, the arrows tipped with poison extracted from that same vine's flowers. She was dirty, her clothes were ripped, but this was all just one more adventure to her, another opportunity to collect data. Hordak was speechless at seeing her again. She just laughed and asked what had taken him so long.

But now here they were, together again, huddled together in the dark. It was getting cold. A fire was not an option, as it would alert every wild animal in the vicinity to their presence.

"I have an idea," she said, grabbing his arm to get at the one of the armor's control panels. She used a sharpened stick to open it. She took a moment to admire the controls "Looks good. You've maintained this very well, Hordak."

"Of course," he huffed, unconsciously touching the purple carved gem at his neck. It was the last part of you I had, he didn't say. It is my treaure, my totem.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Making you into a heater," she replied, and shivered. "Just reroute the temperature controls, and - there! That should work."

He gingerly touched the plate on his chest, which gradually rose in temperature. "To what degree?" he asked. "Am I to warm the whole cave?"

"I suppose I could do that but it would probably overheat and there's not a lot here to repair you with. No, this is enough to warm you, and, um ... me."

She gave him an odd look, expectant but sheepish.

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"I, um ...."

"What?"

She bit her lip. Gestured to him. "Can I...?"

He opened his arms to her, and she crawled into his lap.

>>

Everything settled within him at this contact, a calm that was utterly unfamiliar to him, but was so clearly the fulfillment of weeks of despair and fear and longing. Just this, Entrapta's arms around him, her legs around his waist, the happy sigh she gave as her head came to rest against his shoulder, the metal plates of his armor warming them both. Her hair slowly, perhaps unconsciously, wrapped around them, sealing them in an odd but effectively temperate cocoon. Hordak tilted his head, placing his face right at her hairline, and closed his eyes.

Her fingers crept up to the jewel at his neck.

"I missed you," she whispered.

"Likewise," he whispered back.

His hand rose to meet hers. Their fingers intertwined.

"This should not have happened," he said.

"What should not have happened?"

"I never should have allowed Catra to take you from me."

"You can't control everything, Hordak."

He grumbled.

"We're together now, that's all that matters," she said, and wrapped herself even tighter around him. A tendril of her hair snaked forward and tenderly stroked his face. In a swift movement, before he even knew he was doing it, he pressed the tendril to his lips and shut his eyes.

When he opened them again Entrapta looked up at him wide-eyed, fascinated by this new development. A blossom of adoration opened in his chest - god, her eyes, those sweet big eyes looking up at him as though he were the moon, it was unbearable.

He tilted her chin up towards him and kissed her, a brief soft kiss.

Oh," she said, blinking.

"Oh?" he asked, his ears lowering slightly. Had he gone too far?

"I didn't know, " she said too quickly.

"You didn't *know*?" he repeated.

"I mean I didn't think about it," she replied, also too quickly.

"You didn't think about what?"

"If you - um - if you -" she stammered, flushing. " I mean - you're - your species are clones, you reproduce by cloning, doesn't that make, um ... kissing and ...and such ... redundant?"

Hordak smirked.

"Not that I thought about kissing you," she said, quickly, definitively.

"You clearly did," he said with a soft chuckle. "You clearly put quite a bit of thought into it it."

Her eyes went wide. "I meant - you know what I meant. "

He nodded and gently stroked her face. Tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. She shut her eyes.

No one's ever kissed me before," she whispered.

"Then shall I kiss you again?"

She nodded. This kiss lasted longer, and this time she returned it. Her hands rested at his shoulders. He moved to kiss the side of her mouth, her cheek, her temple, her neck. She sighed, relaxing into him.

"My species," he said between kisses, "are not all clones. The clones are Prime's invention, and he left us...intact, in that way."

"Oh," she breathed, tilting her neck so he could kiss the crook of her shoulder. "Why?"

"For the purposes of conquest," he said. "Sometimes such things are needed in certain kinds of ... negotiations. And for the establishment of dynasties. It serves Prime's purposes that his genetics are ... available. So to speak."

He kissed her ear and nuzzled up into her hair. Ah, her wonderful, prehensile, talented *hair.* He breathed deeply.

"So we're...negotiating," she said.

"I suppose."

"Establishing dynasties?"

He chuckled softly. "Eventually. Maybe. If that's what you want. We could establish a fine one," he said, not allowing thoughts of *if we survive, if we get off this planet, if we can construct another portal* to invade this moment.

"We don't need to get too far ahead of ourselves," she replied. "Let's just stick to, um...negotiations, for now."

He smirked. "As you wish, Princess. As you wish." He touched her face, stroked her hair. "Anything you wish, for as long as I'm alive."

She smiled, wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed herself against him. "Hordak," she whispered. He pressed his face to her hair, then looked out over the horizon, past the ocean, where there lay the dull glow of interplanetary war, going unnoticed by the noisy creatures of Beast Island. The amount of time he was alive might not be much longer, he realized - but it would have to be.

Entrapta touched the crystal at his neck, then his face, then rose slightly and kissed him - this time fully, with a softness and trust that dissolved him, that, if he could, he would write into the very sky.

It would have to be.

[writersrealmbts]

Con Amore: Part 11

Bulletproof Melody Sequel

Description: Con Amore– A directive to a musician to perform a selected passage of a composition tenderly, with affectionate emotion, or in a loving manner; an instruction to the player of an instrument meaning ‘with love’ or ‘lovingly’. Three years with all seven of your loves, three years of relative peace. But now everything is threatened as darkness surges from the horizon.

Originally Posted: 12/15/2019

Tags: Superheroes, Ot7

Fluff/Angst: 2,166 words

A/N: A day after I said I would post it and almost three months after the last part, we’re at part eleven. Next part is interesting. I hope you like it. I’m just a little discouraged with this series and I’m getting stuck because there’s a lot of ends to weave in to finish this series.

You mulled over everything, making a couple notes about their plans while waiting for them to check in. They were checking the place that the tracker had traced back to.

“Tinny?”

“Here, you guys in?”

“Yeah, we’re done here. Raidho, Eihwaz, and Tiwaz are taking the equipment to another place to check it out. Sowilo and Laguz and I are going to try and pinpoint some of the people this was tracking. Raid is going to drop Mannaz back there.”

“Ok, be careful.” You sighed, feeling useless again. “Watch your six.”

“We will,” Tiwaz responded.

Raid appeared with Mannaz, quickly kissing you before teleporting away.

Jimin groaned and sat down, rubbing his legs.

You went over, rubbing his shoulders. “Usual pains?”

“Yeah. A little to the right.”

You shifted your ministrations to the right, feeling the muscle that was tense and carefully working at it. “Shifted to much?”

“Shifted into an elephant from a mouse,” He whimpered as your fingers found a knotted muscle.

“Oh, love,” You murmured sympathetically, kissing the top of his head. “You want me to draw a bath for you?”

He nodded slowly. “I think so.”

“Okay. Just wait here for a bit, I’ll get it all set up.” You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “You’ll have to avoid the drastic shifts while I’m gone unless absolutely necessary.”

He nodded again. “I’ll try.”

You nodded and went to draw the bath. You had to figure out a way to help them one last time before you went to the safe-house.

He came in while you were testing the water. “You okay?”

“Just…thinking.”

“Your phone rang, but it stopped after one ring.” He held it out to you, his voice gentle, as if sensing you were a little vulnerable. He sat next to you on the edge of the tub. “About this morning….”

You met his eyes, reaching up and brushing his hair from his eyes. “You were worried, I understand.”

“I know you do, but I still wanted to make sure we understand each other. I…I can’t stop worrying about you. And seeing this,” He pulled the photo from your appointment from his pocket. He had a watery smile as he looked at it. “The idea that this place, where you’re here with us, possibly being just as in danger as if we weren’t here….”

“We aren’t in danger here, well, no more than before you found out about me having an issue here. The only person who could pose a threat to us here doesn’t realize who I am yet. With me gone, it’s unlikely my past will be discovered.”

He sighed. “And the boys? What do you think their role is in all of this?”

Your mind went to a dozen different places, but settled in one place. One you didn’t want to bring up right now. “I’m not really sure. But I know that they’re important.”

“Are you packed?”

“I’m always packed. At least, nowadays I am.” You got up and turned off the water. “Do you need help?”

He nodded. “My shoulders are tight, too.”

You nodded in return and helped him take off his shirt, accepting the soft little kiss he pressed to your lips with a little glow of warmth and love in your chest. But you quickly helped him undress the rest of the way before leaving him to soak in the tub after the relieved sigh he let out after settling in. “I’ll check on you later.”

“Thanks, chubbs.”

You closed the door, then looked around the room, picking up pillows and making the bed a little neater. You weren’t sure which of the boys had slept in here, but you had your suspicions. You’d have to remind them to keep things tidy. You hugged a pillow and looked around at the strange walls as a wave of nausea came over you again. But this time it was the worry, that panic of having to leave the safety that came with the presence of your boys. Your loves.

You went back to the mission room, sitting with a pen and some paper to write a few things down for when you were gone. Your thoughts drifted as you tried to keep focused on the things you needed to remind them to do when you weren’t there, but instead found their way to your father.

You closed your eyes, trying to block the thoughts.

“There are three things you should always watch out for, my little hummingbird. Our job is a dangerous one. We gather things that people could misuse. We keep them locked away. Everyone will try to break in and get them,” He whispered as he wound the music box. He set it aside, the soft lullaby chiming, and wrapped you up tightly in his arms. “So there are three things you should always watch out for.”

You looked up at him sleepily, humming along with the lullaby that was playing.

“One, is coincidences. They don’t exist. So, if anything seems like one, you know it’s not. The second is those who use the guise of helping to hide their hunger for power. And the third,” He paused to yawn. “The third…third…”

Someone clucked reprovingly, but it was an amused sound as well.

Your mother gathered you up in her arms, kissing your forehead and humming along with you as your father fell into a deeper sleep. “The third, is the unbelievable. People with stars in their eyes, or wings on their backs. You will be an archivist, you will keep their secrets and provide them with the means to continue. You will see the most fantastical things, my love. And I hope we are always there to witness them with you.” She rubbed her nose against yours and you woke up in tears.

Worried eyes met yours as you focused on the person in front of you, the reason you woke up.

Jungkook gently brushed the tears from your cheek. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

“Just a dream,” You whispered.

“Pretty lullaby,” Taehyung murmured, laying on the floor and yawning.

You sucked on your lower lip for a moment, then realized Jungkook was looking at you with a sort of question in his eyes. You smiled a bit and leaned forward to kiss him before wrapping your arms around his neck.

He easily picked you up and carried you to the room you stayed in at night, then murmured he’d be right back.

You changed into pajamas and almost went to check on Jimin, but heard him telling Taehyung to get off the floor and left it alone since you also heard Namjoon with him.

Jungkook came in freshly showered and crawled into bed with you, laying on his side facing you and looking into your eyes. “Are you going to be okay? Alone with those kids?”

“I’ll survive. You still have the talisman.”

“Yeah. It’s safe. That’s just for the dangerous archives?”

“Mhmm, it’s mostly precautionary. I think they want Taehyun because he could tell them how to access the archives,” You whispered, then actually thought about what you were saying.

“Yoongi did say his powers were a little strange, but do you really think he might be able to tell them how to access the archives?”

“He can read the past. It’s entirely possible that he could find the answer to accessing them.”

He frowned in worry, then flinched as your phone starting ringing.

You stared at it, not moving to answer it.

The other boys heard it, poking their heads in.

Namjoon met your worried gaze, then nodded. “Put it on speaker.”

You hummed a protection song as you picked up the phone and answered. “Allo?”

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Yes, who is calling?” You spoke with a French accent, worried about who could be calling.

“My name is Gordon Sutcliffe, I’m calling on behalf of the Moorthes Museum of Art and Natural History. Our contact at St. Kishall Treaure Institute suggested we contact you regarding the verification of a collection of puzzle boxes from a private collector that we wish to display. The owner is claiming that they are the works of Jacqueline De Torrent,” The man on the other end of the line said, absolutely butchering her name.

“How many pieces in the collection?” You asked, suspicious.

“Five.”

You looked at Namjoon and shook your head. “Are you certain?”

“That’s what he is claiming, but we were hoping you would come in to verify that they actually are works of Jacqueline de Torrent.”

You cringed again. “I can tell you now that it is highly unlikely that whoever this collector is managed to acquire five pieces of Jacqueline Torrent de Cavalier. Before I make the trip, I do require photos to verify that this collection is real.”

“Of course, and the curator at St. Kishall’s gave us a general ballpark for your consultation fees.”

“I discuss price after I have agreed to consult. He gave you my email?”

“Uh, yes, miss.”

“Send the photos to that address and I’ll examine those, then tell you whether in-person verification is necessary or not. I need to see every side of the boxes. I’ll contact you further depending on my initial evaluation and we’ll discuss my fees then as well as times I am available.”

“Yes, of course—”

“Good day,” You said, then hung up.

They quickly surrounded you, Namjoon cupping your face in his hands.

“You’re trembling,” Yoongi murmured, taking your hand.

“Do you think that’s them?” Namjoon asked before pressing a kiss between your eyebrows.

“Of course, it’s too outrageous of a claim to be anything else,” You whispered.

“There’s no way you’re going. They must know who you are.” Jimin folded his arms, still partially supported by Taehyung.

“If I don’t go, it would confirm it,” You replied. “But I may be able to put it off for now—”

“No,” Seokjin said, his voice overpowering yours. Firm. He met Namjoon’s gaze. “There’s no such thing as coincidence. We should check it out. Even if it’s a trap. It might just give us the tools we need to beat these people.”

“Hyung, it could be dangerous!” Hoseok protested.

“Life is dangerous, Hoseok-ah. We’ll protect her as best we can, and she’s not exactly weak, either. She’s hidden for this long. We know they’re looking for all three of her identities, so maybe they don’t know. Yoongi and Taehyung can go with her to protect her, with Jungkook as backup. We make sure that even if they take her we can find her.” He met your gaze. “She’s safe-guarded the vaults, right?”

You nodded. “I did. I can’t reach the artifacts right now.”

“Then we give her a temporary power suppressors, and watch every move, and she evaluates the artifacts.”

“Power suppressors?” Taehyung squeaked.

“Just to mask my powers to any sensors. I’ll still have my powers, Tae. They just wouldn’t find out about them, not easily.” You stepped over to reassure him, kissing his lips to help calm him. “Not actual power suppressors.”

He nodded, a tiny shock jumped between the two of you. His eyes widened. “Will that hurt you? Oh my God, the baby? I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine, Tae. It was little more than a static shock. I’ll be fine.” You brushed his hair from his face. “And…I agree with Jin. I think we may need to take the risk.”

Jimin growled, obviously against the idea.

Hoseok wrapped his arms around you. It was his baby, and you knew that even if he was fine sharing that with the boys, he still thought of that as his. He had been carefully avoiding being overprotective, but you knew this was a little more than he could handle. Especially since he’d been preparing himself to part with you. “If she’s doing that, then I’m going to be with her. Taehyung can be by her side, but I’m on standby.”

“Okay,” Namjoon finally said. “If she needs to go, then we’ll make sure to have multiple contingencies.”

Jimin let a high-pitched sound escape him.

Taehyung, Yoongi, and Jungkook seemed equally uneasy about the whole thing.

“Are you sure, Namjoon?” Yoongi asked quietly.

Namjoon nodded sharply, face grim, chin jutting out stubbornly. “We need some sort of advantage. She can’t tell them where those boys are because the safehouse is in a location unknown to her as well. We’ll be there to protect her.”

You nodded. “I trust you all.” You looked to Tae. “You’ll be by my side, right?”

He nodded, straightening his shoulders a bit. “I’ll have to take the suppressants too?”

You nodded again, looking at the faces of all of the men you loved. “Last mission before I go.”

They all huddled in closer, settling in for at least one hand touching you.

You rested a hand over your stomach, hoping your baby knew how many wonderful people would love them.

~~~~

Part 10.   Part 12.

Masterlist.  ~  Series Masterpost.  

[ryogai]

@caemthe Proto Cu participating!

Attempt 1/4

8. You have made it safely to the other side of the castle! Now to see if the door will open and let you outside. A flip of the coin will decide.

TAILS! YOU WIN!

“That was quick! I’m impressed, Cu! Let’s see what prize you get okay? Spin spin aaand~.. WOW! You got our secret top prize! Here you go!”

4. Chest of Real Treaure - Gold

[trashmobminis]

Hey man, can i get a mimic with even bigger titties? I want to barely even be able see the treaure chest. Just those big purple funbags

Yes 

[fusewrites]

The Blade of Arandus

Chapter 2- The Dagger

Synopsis: Luwyn wanders around the market, and finds a peculiar little hut. Inside he finds treaures including a more peculiar dagger.

Word Count: 2010

Author’s note: While writing this chapter, I kept thinking how random it felt, out of place. But near the end of editing, it’s in the perfect spot. Enjoy!

WIP Page | Characters 

(Read Chapter 1 here! )

Luwyn pulled back a curtain and stepped into a little hallway. The hallway opened up into a single circular room. The air inside the hut was foggy and full with smoke and incense. It was dark, the red tarp was thick and blocked out the sun, and there didn’t seem to be anyone inside. Luwyn crept around, stepping carefully in the dank hut.

There was a low, dim light coming from behind a tarp on the other end of the hut. Luwyn looked around, then stepped over to the tarp, and pulled it back. The light came leaking from a little room hidden behind the tarp. Racks on racks of weaponry and armor filled the tiny space, each more ornate and exotic looking than the last. There was a silver breastplate with thorns etched into the metal and little sapphires lining the edges; a huge helmet wrought of gold, the visor and mouth piece sculpted in the shape of an eagle’s beak; a spear, set with a diamond at the tip of the staff and wicked blade as long as Luwyn’s forearm; a beautiful set of necklaces, delicate strands of shimmering diamonds and so much more.

Luwyn was looking over an egg made of emerald that was as big as his head, when saw a familiar glint from the corner of his eye, and turned to search for it. Scanning the racks for the source of the glint. He found it on a little table set off to the side; a dagger with a curved, vicious blade. The hilt was gold, emblazoned with purple jewels that Luwyn had never seen before. He picked up the dagger, the metal cold and heavy in his hands, and examined it with close detail. The same curly symbols that were etched in the gold walls of the Palace were engraved into the blade of the dagger. They were small, wound in and intricate an little design that flowed along the blade like a vine, but somehow Luwyn could make out each symbol clearly.

Up close, the writing was unlike anything Luwyn had ever seen. Every slashing or winding line of each symbol was unique, aside from when they repeated. The entire line seemed long and complicated at first glance, but the closer Luwyn peered, the more each symbol stood out and rang in his mind.

Instinctively, he sounded the symbols out. He knew no other languages, but this writing seemed so easy to understand, so natural. The sounds came out hot on his tongue, like he was talking with peppers in his mouth. But the more he struggled and stumbled over the sounds, the easier he found them to pronounce.

“Ta...ta ta ta...taaa...taaarrr…” The first word started stumble out of Luwyn’s mouth. It burned hotter this time, like scalding water in his mouth. But he pressed on, determined to complete the line. “T-tarr...an...taran a..v-viii—,” He stopped abruptly when something wrestled from behind a rack on the other side of the hut. Luwyn hunched down. His stomach dropped into his pants, and his eyes were wide and frantic.

He waited for someone to call out to him to get out, or grab him my the back of the neck and throw him out, but nothing happened. Luwyn sat for a few beats, peeking wearily between racks. Satisfied that there was no one actually there, he stood and looked down at the dagger. He knew he didn’t have enough coin to buy it, and knew that Jahal certainly could not afford it. But he wanted more than anything to know the language on the side of the hilt, to read the symbols on the palace walls. He’d never been so motivated and it surprised him. That motivation pushed him and he went over the options in his head.

Luwyn looked around again, then slid the dagger into the inside pocket of his of his tunic, and slipped out of the little room, then out of the hut. He stepped cautiously around the stalls and back into the seedy little section of the market. No one paid him any mind, and he backed cautiously away from the stall.

He dipped in a narrow alley, the sides closing in slowly but steadily. There were a few windows in the walls of the alley, but no one watched him from behind them. A cat yowled and clambered passed Luwyn’s feet, but other than that, he was sure he was completely alone. He pulled the dagger from his tunic. It was warm in his hands now and glimmered in the dim light of the alley. Luwyn’s eyes grazed over the symbols, and he went back to where he left off.

“Taran...a...viii...vulu?” The last word snapped in his mouth and he knew that he was wrong. Hesitant, he started again. “T-taran a...vi...vuuu—“

“Taran a vi a ulu omia isanusar,” a quiet, frail voice cut him off. He looked up to see an elderly woman, nearly half his height, wrapped in rags, smiling up at him with pale eyes and a gummy smile. “Isanusar ulu avi taran, taran a vi a ulu omia isanusar,” she repeated. The words crackled off of her wrinkled lips like fire and the air popped around her mouth.

She peered at Luwyn. When he stared back with a blank look on his face, she continued. “Very few can speak those words, much less read them. Might you be some great sorcerer or profit?”

Luwyn thought the question over. “No,” he said shortly. He thought her question over, then looked her up and down with narrow eyes . “Are you?”

The old woman shrugged and giggled. Her voice was thin and raspy and matched her frame, but her laugh was that of a little girl’s. “I can tell, boy, I can tell.” She ignored his question and walked toward him. “Do you know what that phrase means?” she asked, eyeing the dagger.

Luwyn pulled back and squinted down at her. He shook his head, then felt the warmth of the dagger pulse in his hand. He looked down and the symbols suddenly seemed less like symbols and more like actually letters and words. He read them fluently in his mind. Isanusar ulu avi taran, taran a vi a ulu omia isanusar. The words swirled around in his mind as he searched for the translation.

“B-blade?” he asked no one, or the dagger. He suddenly remembered the old lady standing there gawking at him and looked up. “Something about a blade...and a god?”

Her eyes lit up and she skipped underneath her rags. “Almost!” she cheered. “Almost. That is a battlecry, a war hymn of sorts, sung by Arandus himself in his time, or so they say. ‘The God-King is every blade, and every blade the God-King’s.’ Dramatic, if you ask me. I personally don’t believe he would’ve said that in battle, but to each his own. He had to have said it at some point in his life…” The woman trailed off, lost in thought, her glazed over and staring just past Luwyn. He decided that this was his chance to get away. As he took a step sideways, her toothy grin snapped back around.

“You don’t act Sirosi, nor do you have the look...and your clothes! So northern! Where have you been, Arcon? Oria?”

Luwyn’s face twisted. “Where have I been—” he started, then thought better of it and shook his head. “I’m from Rodan.”

“Hm. Rodan. I suppose,” she said lazily. “Well, I must be off.” She spun on her bare heel and waddled down the alley.

“By the way,” she called back, a wrinkly finger in the air. “Be careful with that dagger you took.”

“I bought—,” Luwyn started to lie.

“Be careful with it, Luwyn. That is a relic of the royal and ancient house of Arandus, a relic personally forged for kings of Siros, and personally wielded by the last king, Miotus.”

Luwyn looked down at the dagger with wide eyes and wondered how such a valuable item ended up in the darkest part of the market. When he looked up the old lady was gone, leaving no trace of her ever being there. Luwyn had only the words she taught him and the new information about the dagger, and a sudden, haunting realization that he never told her his name.

Luwyn was alone and the alley was quiet again, He stood there and stared thoughtfully at the dagger for what seemed like hours, running over the words in his head.

“Luwyn!”

Luwyn jumped at the sound of his name. It was Jahal. He must have been looking for him, which meant Luwyn had lost track of time, again. He scrambled to put the dagger in his tunic as he walked ahead, his pace quicker with every step.

He ran into something soft, but sturdy and firm and smelled the faint, but familiar scent of wood smoke and sawdust. Luwyn’s heart dropped. He knew who it was and knew what would happen if they saw the dagger.

“What is that?” Jahal asked.

Luwyn’s mind raced for an answer. He chose to lie. “I bought from this weapons stall deep in the market.” His eyes were wide and his lips were closed tight.

Jahal shot Luwyn a bewildered look, then his disapproving brows furrowed and he crossed his arms. Luwyn gulped.

“Oh really? How much?”

Luwyn paused. “Ten copper,” he said after a beat.

Jahal’s eyebrows raised. “Ten copper? Luwyn, the hilt is solid gold, these jewels, the etching. There’s no way,” he concluded.

Luwyn nodded. “An old lady sold it to me. I think she was senile.”

“Luwyn.”

“I didn’t want to be rude!”

“That was rude, Luwyn,” Jahal retorted. His eyes danced with fury.

Luwyn wanted to back down, he wanted to shy away and submit to Jahal. But the heft of the blade in his hand felt right, and reading those symbols felt right. It bolstered his confidence and he decided that the had to move to this strange kingdom, he would take some consolation. He stomped his foot and puffed his chest.

“I paid for this, and I will keep it,” he barked in a cool, oddly powerful tone.

Jahal’s eyes snapped open. He stepped up to Luwyn, towering over him. Luwyn caught his breathe and tried to stand tall and confident, but Jahal’s sheer size made his knees buckle. He waited for a barking lecture, or slap to the back of the head, or his neck wrung for his boldness.

But Jahal backed down, and took two deep breaths. “I have raised you for eighteen years,” he said calmly, “And this is the first time I’ve seen your father in you.”

Luwyn’s ears perked. He crept up to Jahal on his toes of his boots. “What about him?” he asked eagerly.

It was the first time Jahal had mentioned anything about his father besides some debt; the first time Jahal mentioned Luwyn’s father without Luwyn having to bring it up.

Jahal shook his head and turned and waved for Luwyn to follow him.

“Jahal? Jahal!”

Jahal didn’t stop at Luwyn’s protests. He simply stalked ahead, still waving back at Luwyn.

Luwyn huffed and followed. His face was hot, his fists clasped and sweaty. He was breathing hard, and his tunic stuck to his back. He had never spoken to Jahal like that and he was still recovering. There must be something in the air here, Luwyn thought. Something that made them both act so odd.

They walked back to their stall in silence. Luwyn didn’t even look at his new dagger, he just glared at Jahal, hopefully burning holes into the back his thinning head.

They returned, Luwyn helped Jahal load some things back onto the cart quietly. Jahal said something to him, but Luwyn only ignored him and nodded. He slouched down in the back of the cart and hugged his knees and wished that Jahal would tell him more about the father he never knew.

[thatshitpoet]

ocean dive

Short breath and hands that tingle chest to chest the heat rises in the night, two souls will mingle down Dive into waters of emotion, descend in deep secrets treaures, hidden surprises where nothing matters, but you, and me

[bellaella]

Spotted some lovely #vintagejewellery from @theretrofactorysg that will be great for #MothersDay #Giftideas ! They'll be at Katong Square Lifestyle & Vintage Market from 1pm to 10pm Friday-Saturday-Sunday May 12-13-14! @Regrann from @theretrofactorysg - When you feel like a Pirate, looking through the Treaure Chest... #Gold #RolledGold #CostumeJewellery #Jewellery #VintageCharm #KSLVM #VintageSG #FleaSG #vintagefleamarket #Alistsg #SGNOW #TNPSG #VintageMarket #FleaMarketSG #sgflea #sgfleamarket #sgshopping #VisitSingapore #sgevents #ExploringSingapore #ExploreSG #Singapore #instasg #igsg #Sgig (at Katong Square)