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bonjour-rainycity · 4 years

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Double Heart | Chapter Six ~ Haldir

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG

Word count: 4044

Warnings: None

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour_rainycity” if you prefer!**

A/n Happy Thursday! Thanks for all your responses so far -- I’m so grateful! Alright, time to see what Haldir thinks of all this!

We are sixteen days into our journey when we reach the mountains.

We made good time, considering all the stops and adjusting for our human guests. Now that I know they are more capable than I anticipated, I will be pushing us to clear the ranges in five days. I do not want to travel these mountains any longer than necessary.

Everyone feels the tension. My right hand never leaves the hilt of my sword and I know my brothers travel in a similar fashion. While I am always careful when traveling through the orc-infested mountains, this time more so than usual. The stakes are higher. Lavandil is trusting me to deliver her betrothed to her in one piece. My brothers and Baranor are trusting me to guide them safely on this treacherous journey. And the humans…

Well. They can’t possibly know what they’ve gotten into, so that’s on me, too. They have no experience in battle, nor do they seem ready for a fight. I worry they’ve never even seen an orc, at least not that they can remember. I am as responsible for them as I am for the kin that accompany me.

I turn on Faervel to face my companions, trusting Orophin to watch my back as I take in those that follow me. My brothers are watchful like I am, one hand on a weapon, one hand holding the reins. Their eyes constantly observe our surroundings, never lingering on one spot for too long. Baranor looks mildly nervous — this is only his fifth pass through the mountains and I know his mind is running through his previous journey, remembering the warden we once nearly lost to a poisoned arrow. A dull ache throbs in my left shoulder. The wound is long ago healed — the memories, however, are not.

Cosima holds tight to Rumil, looking around worriedly. I never told her what we might face in the mountains, and maybe that wasn’t the right decision. Every sound makes her jump — she’s obviously expecting to be attacked at any second.

My eyes shift to Alexander, the most recent addition to our group, and I fight the urge to narrow my eyes. I don’t trust him. Not that I automatically trusted Cosima, but she hasn’t given me any reason to be suspicious. She helps with the chores and talks with us freely, even if she has been pulling back a little lately. Alexander can’t boast the same. He’s been nothing but standoffish and keeps himself isolated from the group — dragging Cosima with him.

He glowers at me, and I return his glare. Of course, mine has the force of nearly three thousand years as Marchwarden behind it, and the human quickly looks away.

I return to my inspection of the group. Cosima’s cloak is a beautiful, vibrant red—obviously made for style rather than the stealth and durability needed for travel. I haven’t the faintest idea why she would choose to dress that way if she knew she’d be traveling, nor what kind of leader wouldn’t catch it and make her change. This only serves to irritate the thought that’s been budding in the back of my mind since her arrival. Maybe she really isn’t from our world. Stranger things have happened. Alexander, too, has an unusual cloak, though not as bad as Cosima’s. His is a deep forest green — expensive, the kind that would take months of precise dyeing. Still a suitable color for travel, but not at all practical — already, it’s darkening with mud kicked up on our journey, ruining the maker’s handiwork. I don’t understand it and the mystery of their origins are too much to ponder on the road. So I resolve to deal with what I can now and handle the rest later. At present, Cosima can’t travel through the mountains in that bright red cloak.

I get her attention. “Put your cloak away in your bag, it’s too noticeable. If you get cold, someone will lend you theirs.” She visibly blanches at my words but balances herself atop Roch to do as I say. She is so clearly frightened and part of me wants to reassure her, to tell her not to worry, it’s just a precaution. But I can’t. Lying might make her feel better, but it would also set her at a disadvantage. It is better for her to be on edge. It will keep her sharp, and staying sharp can be the difference between life and death. I wouldn’t sugarcoat it for one of my wardens, so I won’t sugarcoat it for her.

Still, I can’t help myself from offering her some measure of security. I instruct Rumil to take position behind me and send Orophin to guard the back of our line. Perhaps Cosima will feel better being towards the middle of the group rather than at the very back — it is safer.

I put on my most well-practiced fortifying look and address the group. “Remember to ration your water — we won’t come across another stream for some time. With luck and perseverance, we will reach Imladris in five days. Cosima and Alexander — if we are attacked, stay on your horses. Rumil and Baranor will protect you.”

Rumil chuckles lowly and leans back in his seat to whisper to Cosima. “I can’t keep you safe if you strangle me first. Relax.”

Cosima laughs sheepishly and seems to make a concentrated effort at loosening her arms around Rumil.

I pull my eyes away, turning to look the right way down the path.

And off we go.

{***}

Weather in the mountains is unpredictable. There’s a faint breeze hinting at the possibility of rain, and I pray against it. Humans are so fragile compared to elves and I worry the two newcomers won’t do well in another day of downpour. I don’t mind the harsher conditions, my brothers, either — Valar knows how many drills we’ve run, battles we’ve fought in the extremes. But the humans, even Baranor, aren’t so conditioned.

I stop our company a little later than usual and send Rumil and Orophin to take first watch. Baranor pulls Alexander aside to redress the wound on his leg. Cosima and I stay to tend to the horses.

She glances at me from where she brushes Roch’s coat. I raise an eyebrow, cleaning my own horse. She purses her lips and I can tell that she’s scrutinizing me.

“You don’t like the mountains.”

There’s no point in lying. “No. Too many places for the enemy to hide.”

She’s silent for a moment, likely thinking through my words. Unexpectedly, I feel the bite of regret — I probably just scared her again. I should have kept my mouth shut.

Thankfully though, she doesn’t seem frightened. She smiles, a sort of serenity settling on her. “It’s kind of pretty though, if you can find a moment to enjoy it. Did you see the sun sinking over that peak way in front of us? It turned the sky purple and gold.”

I did notice the sky, but only briefly. I hadn’t even stopped to ponder its beauty, only checked to ensure no one hid on the horizon.

She sees the answer in my face and grins, shaking her head. “Maybe you’ll be able to relax once we reach Imladris. What’s it like, there?”

Now it’s my turn to smile, recalling my second favorite place in the world. “Beautiful — much more so than these mountains. There are waterfalls taller than any I’ve ever seen and they cast rainbows at sunrise and sunset. The main city rests on those falls and you can see the water sweeping under you, falling over the cliffs.”

She stares at Roch’s coat, a distant look in her eye. “How long are you planning to stay?”

You. Her question hangs between us as I analyze her use of the word. She didn’t say ‘we’ or make any reference to herself and Alexander. She’s making no promise to stay. That realization shouldn’t bother me, but, nevertheless, I feel discomfort settle in my stomach. I try to distract myself by answering her question. “A month or two, three at most. The journey home will take about three weeks and I want us in Lothlórien well before winter sets in.”

“What’s your favorite food?”

I blink, trying to follow her line of reasoning. I’ve got nothing. “How does that relate to what I just said?”

She closes her eyes, the peace leaving her and morphing into a pleading, distressed look. “Please just answer the question.”

The feeling in my stomach worsens and I hurry to say something to try and put her more at ease. “Honeyed breadrolls,” I blurt, not even sure if that’s my favorite.

She laughs weakly, looking at me from the side of her eyes. “That’s not a balanced meal.”

I grin, relieved to see the stress beginning to fade from her face. “You said favorite food, not healthiest.”

“Oh right, my bad.” She rolls her eyes, a playful light there that wasn’t present before.

Evidently annoyed with the lack of attention, Roch bumps his head against Cosima’s shoulder, snorting noisily. She giggles and pets the horse affectionately.

“He likes you,” I observe, the sight of them bringing a smile to my face.

Cosima shrugs. “He just wants snacks.”

There’s a pause and I feel a sense of urgency, needing to fill the silence before the conversation can come to an end. “What’s yours?”

She furrows her eyebrows. “Hm?”

“Your favorite food.”

“Oh.” She pauses, looking at the ground in thought. When her eyes return to mine, she looks a little lost. “I don’t know. I don’t mind the lembas bread and fruits, though I couldn’t say for sure if it’s my favorite because I can’t remember much from my homeworld. I guess—well, I do remember some food here and there, but nothing stands out as my all-time favorite.”

Her admission seems to make her sad. I can understand that — it must be terrible to not know who you were or what your life was like. Once again, I feel the need to make her feel better. “Elrond won’t let us go hungry. There will be many new things for you to try.”

She opens her mouth, a spark lighting in her eyes, ready to respond.

The loud, heavy footsteps give away Alexander’s approach. Cosima hears it too and turns to see her incoming friend.

I let my face fall into a neutral expression, not entirely pleased with Alexander’s arrival. He is a lost human in need of help, just like Cosima, so I will offer him my protection and aid, just as I did to the woman at my side.

But that doesn’t mean I have to like him.

From what I’ve observed, he has a manipulative streak that I do not trust. I can understand not being ready to accept his new reality, but Cosima is trying to move on. He shouldn’t try to interfere with her progress.

He addresses Cosima only. “I’ve got dinner for us both. Meet me on the rock when you’re done?”

She shifts her feet, looking uncertain.

“No, you will stay with the main camp.” I hear my voice before I make the actual decision to speak. Cosima nods automatically—and, is it my imagination, or does she look a little relieved?Alexander only grimaces.

“Why?”

A muscle twitches in my cheek. I’m used to leading wardens that follow my every order. In this environment, one that is fraught with danger and requires constant attention and strict regimentation, I don’t like my orders being questioned. It’s not only a waste of time, but a danger to us all. I know well from the battlefield that hesitation—that single moment of questioning—can be the difference between life and death.

I raise an eyebrow, meeting the human’s challenging gaze. “The danger is heightened in these mountains. While you travel with my company, I am responsible for your safety. I will not have you all spread out — it makes it more difficult to protect you should the need arise.”

“I don’t want to sleep on a rock, anyway.” Cosima surprises us both by speaking up.

Alexander squints, looking quite caught off guard that she’s sided against him. “What—“

“Haldir’s right. It’s too dangerous and besides, the grass is softer.”

Alexander opens and closes his mouth a few times, then exhales, shaking his head and stomping back to camp. Cosima turns to Roch and resumes brushing his coat, a new tension in her jaw.

I try to broach the subject delicately. I’m not entirely sure it’s my business, but I suppose any information into the pasts of these mysterious humans is useful. “Do you remember much of your relationship with Alexander from before? Do you know what he was like?”

She closes her eyes—something she does when she’s stressed, I note—and sighs before opening them again. “I’ve been asking myself that a lot recently. I get that this whole…whatever it is, is impossible. I know that. And he does, too, which is why he’s having such a hard time adjusting.”

I bristle at the insinuation that I and my world aren’t real, but then make myself relax, putting myself in Cosima’s shoes. How would I feel if I woke up in a world completely different from the little I could remember?

She continues. “But I like it here. It’s beautiful and exciting and there’s so much to explore…I’m making friends.” She smiles up at me shyly, and I immediately return it. We are friends. I don’t know when or how it happened but we are. I like having her around.

“But with Alex…” She shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know. I’m having a hard time not accepting my life here because it’s all I really know. I don’t have anything else to hold on to. Alex can’t seem to do that…I wonder if he remembers more than he lets on.”

I keep my expression carefully blank. I’ve been pondering the same thing. Something she said does bother me, though. She didn’t say she’s having a hard time accepting our world, but not accepting it. What’s holding her back? I try to dig around. “Cosima, this is your world now. Why wouldn’t you want to accept it?”

She shakes her head slowly, the sadness creeping back. “I can’t accept my life here because there’s no way it’s possible. I trust you and your brothers and Baranor, but something about this place is off. It’s completely unnatural—from what I remember of my world, we don’t have elves. We have cars instead of horses and ways to communicate that stretch across the globe.” Her voice rises in pitch, the first misty hints of tears entering her eyes. “And there’s only one world. There’s no way to go back or forward in time or hop to another planet or—”

“That you know,” I correct, unable to keep my mouth shut any longer. Seeing her struggle is not only upsetting, it’s frustrating. She is here, and this world is as real as she is, as real as I am. All this back and forth is pointless. “You said it yourself—you don’t remember much about your home world. And even if you remembered everything, who’s to say that you could know everything? For all you know, you fell asleep in your world and woke up in mine. And, at present, I don’t know of any way to send you back. Elrond or the Lady might, but that’s not a question we can answer until later. So for now, you need to accept this world. Because you are here. This world is real and your life here is real.”

She takes in a shaky breath.

I freeze. Oh Valar. I’ve made her cry.

I hurry to try to undo it. “Cosima—”

“No.” She cuts me off, wiping the corner of her eyes with her sleeve. “I needed to hear that. You’re right. I’m only wasting time and stressing myself out with all this. Because regardless of what I think is logical or possible, the fact remains that I am here in Arda and I feel real and alive. And so does this world. And so do you.” Her eyes, still shiny with tears, meet mine and she offers me a watery smile.

I accept it with a breath of relief and work consciously to soften my tone. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to make you cry.”

“Oh,” she chuckles softly, still wiping away her tears. “I don’t think it’s your fault. I’m just tired and stressed and—what was it you said again?” She throws me a teasing look and I know she’s about to bring up my earlier comment. “You said I was sensitive. That’s right.”

I hold back a groan. Probably not the most well-advised thing I’ve ever said. “I only meant that you are more expressive with your emotions than I or others that—”

“Nope. I’m gonna stop you right there.” She holds up a hand, thankfully still in a joking mood. “You’ll only make it worse for yourself.”

She’s probably right. So I halt my attempts, shaking my head and laughing at myself. “I suppose I should apologize for that too?”

She shrugs off-handedly. “Nah. Because for the record, about the time you decided I was sensitive, I decided you’re way too serious.”

And, with that, she sets Roch free to graze and jaunts back to camp.

{***}

Aside from the brief interlude with Cosima, I don’t allow myself to relax as we continue through the mountains. There are too many peaks and rocks and caves and crevices where the enemy can hide. All it would take is one well-aimed arrow to fell one of my companions, or myself. I have to be vigilant. They’re trusting me, and I must not let them down.

{***}

On the third night in the mountains, Rumil and Orophin stage a sort of intervention, trying to force me into a full night’s rest.

“Brother, you have stood watch every night for the past five nights and most of the nights before that.”

“I am fine,” I retort, straightening my back. “I am perfectly capable of sacrificing rest to keep watch of our surroundings.”

“But without rest you will grow weary and slow,” Orophin adds, planting himself to stop me from walking past him. “You will not be at your best and cannot keep us safe as you could if you had proper rest.” He raises his voice to drown out my protests. “Rumil and I will stand watch all night—we will be vigilant.”

“Now, go lay down and get a full night’s rest willingly, or Baranor is prepared to drug you.” At this, Rumil smiles broadly. He is only joking. And, capable though Baranor is, I have no doubt in my ability to stop him from forcing herbs into my mouth.

But my brothers have a point. Though I am used to many restless nights from battle and my patrol of the borders, I have not slept for more than a few hours in many nights. I feel the heaviness in my eyes, the weariness in my bones, and, though I know I could push through, it is of no benefit to my company. So, reluctantly, I sheathe my sword, nodding to my brothers. “Wake me if there is any trouble.”

Orophin agrees readily. “Of course. You’ve trained us well.”

At this, I must grin, remembering the countless hours I put into developing and perfecting their skills. “I know.”

I leave the outcropping of rocks that has become our watch station and jog the short distance back to camp.

“Wow, look who’s decided to join us for a change,” Cosima jokes. There’s a note in her voice that tells me she had knowledge of, if not a hand in, my brothers’ plan.

I roll my eyes, matching her teasing tone. “I couldn’t leave the three of you unattended for long—who knows the trouble you could have gotten in?”

“Oh, yeah. Baranor was about to redress Alex’s wound — troublesome, indeed.”

I sit on the empty mat in between her and Baranor, greeting my elven friend with a nod. Alexander doesn’t acknowledge me, so I don’t acknowledge him.

Cosima passes me a bundle of leaves containing a ration of lembas bread and a handful of blackberries. I smile my thanks and take the food eagerly—I haven’t eaten since morning.

“Glad to see you resting, mellon nîn,” Baranor nods in my direction then returns his attention to Alexander’s leg. The herbs and healing power in Baranor’s spirit have done wonders, but the traveling aggravates the wound. Really, he should take a few days to rest, but we do not have that luxury.

Cosima breaks a piece off her own bread. “How long until we reach Imladris?”

“Within three days, I imagine.” It’s an estimate, but a fairly accurate one, I’d wager. After many journeys, I know these mountains quite well.

She smiles. “That’s not too bad.”

“Agreed.” Baranor sighs and nods, indicating that he’s done dressing Alexander’s wound. He returns to his mat on the other side of our bags, completing the circle we lounge in.

A particularly strong gust of wind blows my hair around. Cosima shudders, pulling her blanket tighter over her shoulders — her cloak is still in her bag. Temperature doesn’t bother elves in the same way it does humans, I remember. I shed my cloak of deep grey, holding it out for her to take. “Here.”

Her eyes go wide, and she shakes her head vehemently. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I don’t want you to be—”

“Take the cloak, Cosima.”

She bites back a smile, and I know why. Even as I was trying to be nice, I still ended up making it an order. Oops. But it did the trick. She takes the cloak, wrapping herself tightly in it and then adding the blanket for an extra layer of warmth. “Thank you.”

I only nod in response. After all, it’s my job to see that each member of my company is cared for. That includes fragile humans who could possibly die from exposure to the elements. And, thankfully, she does look much warmer now — her shivers have subsided and the wind only has the chance to bother her face, as the rest of her body is encapsulated in a cocoon of cloth.

“So Haldir, what do you do?” Alexander’s direct question catches me off guard, as well as the suspicion behind it.

I bristle. “Pardon?”

Alexander raises his chin, eyes narrowed at me. “What is your job? Because you seem awfully comfortable ordering people around.”

I forget how immature humans can be. I push against the annoyance that rises within me. “I am charged with the protection of my realm.”

“So you left it unguarded?”

I speak through clenched teeth. “I took leave.”

“So if you’re on leave then why are you still in charge? We’re nowhere near your realm.”

I feel my pulse quicken. “The others have accepted my authority. I am the most experienced—”

“Have I accepted your authority? Has Cosima?” He raises a challenging eyebrow.

“Uh, don’t bring me into this,” Cosima practically yelps, pulling the fabric tighter around her.

“Yes, this is a good time to stop,” Baranor interjects, looking completely serene — the exact opposite of how Alexander and I must look.

“It’s getting late,” Cosima agrees, darting nervous looks between me and her human friend. “We should all get some sleep.”

Alexander and I stare each other down. I feel no small amount of pride when he breaks his gaze first, then admonish myself for my immaturity. I should have handled that better — I know better than he does. Unbidden, my eyes dart to Cosima. Has my arguing with her closest friend upset her?

But thankfully, she smiles at me when my eyes meet hers, then reclines on her mat. Her voice rings over the small clearing, effectively ending any discussion between us all for the evening. Probably for the best. “Goodnight.”

And, though I am still angry, my body and mind cannot ignore how exhausted I am after days of insufficient sleep. It doesn’t take long for me to find rest.

A/n Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs make my day :) Let me know if you would like a tag! And if you’re having trouble being tagged, try subscribing on Ao3! That will notify you automatically when I post there.

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Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @fangirl-nonsense @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @tolkien-apologist @ordinarymom1

**Strikethrough means Tumblr won’t let me tag you**

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puppypeter · 4 years

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Bringing you all a sad ass fic rec this fine Thursday... prepare the tissues!!🥺These are all Peter-centric (some could be in an irondad list too tbh), but the focus is Pete going through some shit cause apparently I like reading about my fave suffering 😞 Please please remeber to READ THE TAGS/TW!!! (There’s quite a few Skip fics).

PS: do not link any of these fics to the actors or anyone associated with them. Fics are from the fans for the fans, and they should stay within the fandom!

I’d say happy reading! but....

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Peter is being abused. Tony finds out in the worst way possible.

...more will be added! Feel free to inbox me any suggestions!

#peter parker whump #i live my fave to suffer apparently #puppy peter fic recs #pp: fic recs #pp: peter fics #pp: peter whump

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letmewritemylife · 3 years

Text

The Creator

If you can hold the stars in place… - Skillet

A/N Here we are again, posting a new “fix-it but not really ‘cause babies still suffer but at least I have the excuse of being an idiot for this being ooc” fic TRIGGER WARNINGS None?

From the moment Scott first explained his plan to bring everyone back to life, Tony had a feeling it would have not worked. He knew it deep in his bones, some sort of sixth sense telling him not to waste time trying. After all, what could one expect from an idea that was based on “Back To The Future”?

Now, as he moves his gaze over the walls covered in shiny crystals and dark stones, Tony is sure that he should have never listened to him. Scott narrows his eyes, staring at a particularly big blue crystal in front of him. “I’m quite sure the quantum realm didn't look like this last time.”

A soft laugh comes from behind them and a man, unusually average-looking compared to the place he’s in, walks up to them. A pair of purplish eyes sets on them, studying each man meticulously as a genuine smile paints on his pale lips. “I’m sorry, Mr Lang, but this is not the quantum realm.”

Steve throws a glance at his surroundings, trying - and failing - to understand where the man came from. “And where are we then?” he asks.

The man walks past them, rubbing his palms against each other, eyes glued to the floor and its myriad of stones. “Dimension Z, as some human once called it.” He turns to them, still not abandoning his welcoming expression that, for some reason, can’t help scaring Tony. “The actual name is another, but it is quite complicated and you would forget it easily.”

“Whatever, who are you and why are we here?” Tony cuts short, eager to get the infinity stones as soon as possible and, hopefully, go back to his family.

“Oh, I forgot to present myself, I apologise. My name… well, a friend of yours tried ‘Jesus’, but it is not very appropriate. On most planets, I am known as ‘The Creator’.” He snaps his fingers and the ground deforms, a table and a set of chairs forming. He gestures at the shining seats with a smile, only continuing his explanation once his guests have sat down.

“I noticed that you Avengers thought about travelling between realities in order to collect the infinity stones and reverse Thanos' snap.” Tony nods, suddenly interested in what the man is saying. “Unfortunately, I cannot allow that, ergo I blocked you and brought you here.” His eyes follow for a moment a lonely butterfly dancing in the air. “Do not worry, your friends are already back on Earth.”

“Listen sir,” Scott attempts, still confused by all he sees around himself. “We have to do this, it’s our only chance to bring everyone back.”

Steve crosses his arms on the table, eyes traveling over the man’s features. “We’ll bring all the stones back, we promise.”

The man lets out a laugh, leaning back against his seat. “Oh, I do not doubt that,” he says, shaking his head. “Trust me, I am the first who wants everything to go back to normal, as normal as it could be in the first place, but the universe is already going through enough.”

Tony looks confused at him, tapping his fingers on the blue surface before him. “What do you mean? It’s been five years, I thought everything had kind of fixed itself, more or less…”

“Absolutely no, Mr Stark. In fact, the universe has never been so tired and damaged like now.” He opens his palm and a flat surface forms in his hands. After cleaning the slab with the back of a hand, he places it in the middle of the table.

Tony’s eyes open wide as pictures appear in front of them. “My duty is merely formal, there are others burdened with the task of protecting realities,” the Creator explains, a soft smile painting his face as the images of two women appear on the screen.

The first woman is meditating, legs crossed in a lotus position. Purple magic dancing around her dark skin, her face writhes into a pained grimace. The Creator’s face darkens, as if sharing that woman’s feelings. “Among the few that survived Thanos, I can still count on the three Enchantresses.”

Scott looks puzzled at the witch, slowly moving his gaze to the other woman beside her. Slightly taller than her colleague and with eyes so green to seem fake, she adjusts a voluminous book on her lap before snapping her fingers, moving a chair right before her friend can hit it when waking from her trance.

“Even though they are among the most powerful magic users in the multiverse,” the man continues, “holding the universe in place with little to no help from others is taking a toll on them.” He turns back to his interlocutors. “If I let you move through realities, you would surely create confusion among timelines. Even if you fixed everything, at least a few beings would escape, giving unnecessary work to those you are seeing.”

Steve nods, eyes glued to the two Enchantresses. He seems convinced, but Tony still has one lingering question. “You said ‘three’, but I only see two women here.”

Every trace of happiness leaves the Creator’s face and he sighs. A movement of his fingers changes the images on the blue tablet.

Now the three Avengers are looking at a white cell, plaster cracking in the corners of the ceiling and the dim light of the LEDs flashing. A lonely figure is curled up in a corner of the room, a mane of messy brown hair sprawled on her white uniform.

The unnatural silence is broken out of the blue, the woman screaming in pain as her whole body shakes and contorts, tears gathering in her eyes. It takes Tony a moment to recognize her, her pale skin covered in red, deep scars that he didn’t remember being there just a few years before.

“There you have it, your third Enchantress,” the Creator comments, fists clenched and a hint of resentment in his voice.

Scott swallows heavily, unable to move his eyes from the bleeping monitor on Lara’s neck. “Why is she there?”

The man laughs bitterly. “I should be the one asking you that.”

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me about Lara!” Tony throws his hands up in the air, screaming right at Steve’s face.

The super soldier sighs, crossing his arms and sharing a quick glance with Natasha. “I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

“Mister Stark, Miss Romanoff, Mister Rogers,” Hayward’s confident voice interrupts them. After nodding in greeting at the three Avengers, the man gestures at his secretary to leave the room. “How may I help you?” he asks. The fake polite smile on his face makes Tony want to punch him.

“Where is Johnson?” Natasha goes straight to the point.

Hayward’s grin widens. “Safely locked in our best cell, you don’t need to worry.”

Tony puts away his sunglasses, sending him the coldest look he can make. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

Completely missing the point of the other’s comment, Hayward adjusts the sleeve of his jacket and smirks. “Trust me, she’s not getting out anytime soon. Right after her brother and she surrendered-”

“Wait, her brother?” Steve asks.

“Enhanced human too, significantly weaker than her, one year older. He’s been collocated in a common cell beside his sister.” Hayward looks back at Tony, who’s now trying to hide his shaking hands in the pockets of his pants. “However, while he wasn’t almost touched, the witch had to have her powers restrained. For safety, of course.”

A middle aged man in a lab coat coughs behind him. A small badge on his coat shows his name, Doctor Rolland, written in bold characters. “Director,” he says once he’s drawn everyone’s attention, “I’ve completed my examinations. Would you like to see the results right now or…?”

Hayward smirks proudly. “Oh yes, sum them up for our guests, we were just talking about her.” He turns at the Avengers before him. “You won’t mind, right?”

Rolland clears his voice and opens the grey folder he was carrying. After adjusting his thick glasses, he starts reading. “No illness diagnosed, no relevant anomaly in her conditions. The cause of her deteriorated health hasn’t been found. She won’t talk either. The examinations gave no result. I suggest we reduce her energy income to two percent and proceed with more invasive tests.”

Hayward nods. “Of course, go ahead, you’re the doctor.”

But once Doctor Rolland has walked outside, Hayward finds himself pressed against his desk, Tony grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket. “What the hell are you doing to her?” he asks between gritted teeth.

Hayward stutters, throwing worried looks at Natasha and Steve. “She- she never refused-”

“Of course she f*cking didn’t, you’re torturing her.” Tony’s neck reddens and he tightens his grip, his knuckles turning white.

It’s Natasha to intervene, gently moving Tony away. Hayward furrows his brows in offence. “What do you want from me?”

“Lara.” Tony’s voice doesn’t shake in the slightest, his eyes still glued to the other man.

Steve joins in, trying to be an intermediate. “It will be just for a few days and we will respect all protocols.”

Hayward nods, massaging his throat. “And what do you need her for?”

“Reversing Thanos’ snap.”

“I see, but it’s still a no.”

The director is about to walk out of the room, but Tony’s proposal makes him freeze on the spot. “And what if Stark Industries made a good donation to SWORD?”

#lara johnson #agata varano #endscar #mcu #marvel #oc #original character #writing #mcu fiction #oc fiction #the creator #stephen strange x original character

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mammonspeanut · 5 years

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Mammon x MC - A little surprise- last part

So my loves here is the last part of the story I wrote. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it and reading it more than once. I’d love to hear your thoughts on it and I want to thank everyone who read the entire story and shared and liked it. <3 love you so much

part 3

After Mammon successfully convinced everyone to support and join his plan of surprising MC the day has come. Excitement may be an understatement but will MC like what he had planned for her and how will she react?

“Asmodeus is saving us some time, come on and let’s prepare the room.” , Beel mumbled as food fell out of his mouth.

After setting everything up Lucifer slipped into his outfit, a pair of jeans which were stretchy enough that he could lift his legs and squat without a problem and a black colored sleeveless shirt and a white pair of socks and sneakers. Beel was slipping into his beige pants and white sleeveless shirt “I still don’t understand why we don’t have the same outfit.”,Beel asked confused as Belfie handed him his shoes and suspenders explained once again “ It is supposed to look natural and kinda like what the guys were wearing in that period of time. Plus you’ll be changing outfits later anyways.” Levi was already dressed in his gray pants and black turtleneck “Why can’t Lucifer wear the turtleneck?” he nagged as he pulled at his collar uncomfortably “Simple because he doesn’t need to look even more like a jerk. Plus it is better than that orange silk shirt Asmodeus wanted us to wear”, Satan taunted as he stood there topless closing his belt after pulling up his black pair of jeans while Levi shuddered at the memory of the orange silk shirt. It didn’t take long for Lucifer to pick up Satan’s Bordeaux colored sleeveless shirt only to chuck it into his face “Shut up and put your clothes on.” The door creaked open slowly as Asmodeus entered the room “She’s in the tub come on boys I need to do your makeup.” he whispered. As Mammon watched everyone get dressed he still stood there in his usual clothes frozen with fear. What if it wasn’t perfect he had spent 4 months planning and practicing everything, perfectioning every move and every song and now? Now he was so full of fear that he couldn’t move. “What’s up with him?”, Belphegor asked Satan as he adjusted his shirt and shrugged at the same time “Mammon. Get dressed dude.” Levi called from across the room everyone's eyes were on Mammon at that moment “Mammon.”, Lucifer called catching his attention “What if this turns out bad. I mean it won’t be after all I am the great Mammon and I planned everything but what if I mess up?”, Mammon quietly asked letting his gaze wander through the room. Lucifer approached Mammon and quietly comforted him for the first time in a while “It won’t happen and if you do we are also here. Now, come on get dressed, Mc will love it no matter what.” Mammon nodded slightly and grabbed his black pair of pants, a yellow shirt, and a black cardigan. Asmodeus didn’t have much time and just powdered Mammon’s face and slipped back out of the room. Beel and Levi discussed the routine again as Belphie adjusted the lighting. In the moment where everyone pat Mammon on the back his phone Buzzed -You guys ready???? We are on our way!!- “They are on their way, let's get into our positions, Belphie get ready!”, Mammon informed everyone followed by a uniform nod from everyone in the room. “Asmodeus, why are we here?”, MC's voice questioned outside of the door while Mammon's heart began to race even more as he moved from side to side shaking his hands and trying to get comfortable while whispering to himself until Lucifer put his hand on Mammon’s shoulder. “Dear, do you think I would do something weird with you~ Come on in.” Asmodeus chirped as the door opened “Asmos, it’s dar-” “Sit right here~”, Asmodeus cut her after a moment of silence you could hear a smack and then Belphegor quietly say “Okay. Okay, I’m awake.”

The lights slowly turned on and the music began to play. The evening when better than planned all moves sat perfectly between the five boys and every song went without an accident. MC enjoyed herself more than everything else and cheered a lot while singing along with them and moving in her seat. She was amused to see Lucifer actually enjoying himself and just being not as stiff as he usually is and Satan nailing every step he made just to be better than Lucifer. MC was surprised by the fact that Beel didn’t stop once to eat something and by the fact how light-footed he was dancing as she looked over to Levi he had the most serious face of all concentrating on every move. Being Surprised by the quick outfit change for every song was an understatement since the boys were changed in less than 5 minutes and you knew for a fact that Lucifer took way longer.

As she looked at Mammon a warm feeling spread throughout her body she had felt this feeling quite often with Mammon but this time it was different it was as if her heart was squeezed tightly and it dropped. The way his eyes glistened in the light and the way his hair moved when he made his turns or the moment when he realized that she was having fun and he had the biggest smile on his face. The wink he gave her to make her cheer and whoo even louder, during the last set the boys came out in suits the first one to emerge was Beel who looked kind of lost in his mustard-colored suit but it sat very well on him. “Hey, Asmo.” MC whispered as Levi followed in a very dark purple suit, anyone could see that he wasn’t used to wearing suits as he adjusted his blazer. “Yes~” flirted Asmodeus into MCs ear enough to make her shudder while Satan entered in a very dark emerald suit leaving her almost speechless. “Mc dear?~” Asmo flirted into MC's ear as she found her words again while watching Lucifer come into the room in a burgundy suit while putting on his hat “Did you make all these outfits?” Mc asked absentmindedly wondering what Mammons suit would look like. As soon as the thought was formed in her mind Mammon entered the room in a three-piece white suit. Barely able to register Asmodeus confirming that indeed he had hand-sewn each outfit by himself and fitted each of the boys. Mc wasn’t sure if she was staring at Mammon with an open mouth but the few seconds it took for Mammon to enter and to look up, catch her gaze and smile at her felt as if things were in slow motion. There wasn’t a word in the world to explain what she felt at that moment when the light bounced off of his blue/yellow eyes. The last song was over in a breeze, she barely was able to focus on anything else but Mammon and how he looked in his suit and how well he moved. All she knew was that she wanted him all to herself.

After the little performance, Mammon was completely out of breath as MC approached them handing Beel immediately some food since he hadn’t eaten for the entire time. The fact that she went first to him kind of hurt but after all, it was a smart move, no one wanted him to eat anyone in the room just because he was hungry. Next, he watched her approach Levi hugging him and congratulating him on doing so well, it wasn’t a surprise as she hugged Satan and complimented him on how well the green suit looked on him. Mammon huffed trying to catch air and also kind of to bring the attention to him after all he had done all of this. He continued to watch as MC began to talk to Lucifer praising him and striking up a small conversation on actually participating in the entire thing. “I guess.”,Mammon murmured jealousy forming a knot in his stomach. He could hear her asking “Whose idea was this and most importantly who planned all of this.” after not hearing a thing for a bit “Hey Mammon? Wanna come out into the fresh air with me?” she asked, ripping him out of his thoughts. “Uh, yeah?”, he answered confused as she had grabbed his hand pulling him behind her.

“Hey! Hey Buttercup! Slow down.” he called as she hurried outside with him. He shut the door right behind him as she stood as close as possible to him again, he looked down at her watching her eyes move from left to right as she looked at his face. A gust of wind carried her scent with it as he inhaled it he felt his heart beating up in his throat. “Did you really do all of this for me?” she asked without breaking eye contact. Ready to let out a deflecting answer he opened his mouth “No, Mammon, be honest.”, she cut him off as he shut his mouth, feeling his tongue heavy in his mouth the words felt like syrup in his throat “Yes.”, he managed to answer as he pushed her curly hair behind her ear leaving it there for a second longer than he should have. “Why?” she asked, leaning her head into his hand. He noticed her face felt warmer as usual and her eyes expectant as he slowly rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “Because I wanted to make you happy.”, he said while his heartfelt as if it was about to jump right out of his chest. He feared her next question, feared that he was going to expose his feelings and be completely vulnerable. He could see her racking her brain for the next question that was lingering in the air waiting for her to vocalize it as the trees nearby rustled eager for what next was to transpire. “Because…”, Mammon began without waiting for her question as he cupped her face with his other hand he saw the fear in her eyes. The same fear he had, to be exposed, to let yourself fall mercilessly and recklessly, to be vulnerable to the point where it scared you. She grabbed on to his wrists slightly opening her mouth as he inched closer, he knew that she needed to know that this was real and that she was safe with him. She made sure that in this moment, where her feelings were exposed for everyone to see, that she was grabbing onto the situation because she didn’t want to let it slip away. Mammon grabbed her face a bit tighter as he intended to because he didn’t want her to slip away either. He wanted to hold on to something more precious than money or anything he could possess in the entire world. His nose softly touched hers as he saw tears well up in her eyes, he pressed his lips onto hers. Pulling her close to him, putting all the feelings he had for her in the kiss, their lips crashed with a force into each other. He felt her squeeze his wrists tightly as he pulled her even closer. He wanted to remove any space that was between the both of them, he wanted her as close as possible. He could feel her tears running down her cheeks coating his face, though he wasn’t sure if it was only her tears or his as well. As their lips parted, Mammon looked deep into MC's eyes to make sure that she was still right in front of him and indeed she was a sigh of relief escaped as he pulled her close to him again.

He hugged her tightly and as they both looked out into the darkness they both simultaneously asked: “So, are we dating?” Mammon felt MCs head shift under his chin and he looked down at her both greeting each other with an empty facial expression and then bursting out in laughter “Yes.”, MC answered as Mammon answered, “Obviously yes, I mean who wouldn’t want to date the great Mammon everyone would be blessed to date me.” “Dumbass.”, she mumbled into his chest “..my dumbass,” she added as they spent a few more moments outside.

#obey me beel #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus avatar of lust #obey me lucifer #lucifer avatar of pride #beelzebub avatar of gluttony #obey me belphie #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me #my fiction #obey me fanfic

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randaccidents · 5 years

Text

The World Turned

Happy New Year guys! As my first act of 2020, I’m posting the first spau fic of 2020 as well!

EDIT: TW: manipulation (the kind that sinks its hooks into you for a long time), intrusive thoughts

Shadow People AU by @mine-sara-sp who is a beautiful woman and basically the mom of the discord server :D. Happy New Year my gal.

The world changes, but not everyone is prepared for it.

In other spoilers: presidential alert the girls are fighting

Its surroundings were dark, tiny triangles of yellow light doing nothing to illuminate the area. It was almost as if the darkness itself had eaten the light, the triangles all that was left of the world. In the distance, it could see tall figures made of yellow light wandering aimlessly, yet dwarfed by the dark that reached its fingers upwards. Its feet were standing on something solid. There was a weight on its chest, and it looked down.

Something on its chest glowed purple, and a voice in its head told it that’s important, hold onto it tight, but don’t let anyone here see it. Placing a hand over the object, it started wandering, feet finding their own path.

As it walked, it noticed that the dark seemed to be seething, writhing and clawing its way upwards. But slowly, the darkness was calming, shifting to drip downwards endlessly. The path before became illuminated by the twirling triangles, granting him surer footing. It wandered across bridges, past monolithic structures, past rock-like formations, past words scratched into stone, and registered none of them. All it knew was the path before its feet, the purple glowing object in its hands, the feeling that it should be somewhere else.

Something tugged at its chest, a call that demanded its attention. It turned the suggestion over in its mind. A flash of memory, of blue skies green grass gigantic structures people he serves and cares for, and the decision is made before it even blinks. Grasping the glowing purple item close, it answers the call.

It approaches the origin of the call, reaching out. Unknown to it, the purple item flashes brightly right as it heeds the call. Memories suddenly entered its mind, slicing their way past the muggy fog in its mind it hadn’t noticed, led by purple light.

The walls had fallen to the Leviathan before them. The Empire crumbled around them. Someone Tripwire had their hand on his shoulder. “Run.”

And he did. What else could he do? He was only the scout, barely able to hold his own against anyone.

He had almost escaped the ruined field, twisting and diving around the animated armour stands, before something crashed into his back, grabbing and lifting him off the floor by his twisted favour. He had enough time to see unfurled bright blue, a plume of gold, before sharp pain ripped through his chest multiple times and he was cast into the foggy dark.

He crawled out of the ground in a frenzy, pushing himself free of the grasping dark that stole his thoughts and kept him dumb. He saw a silver figure before him, hand outreached, and flinched away, scrambling off the raised dais of the temple. The figure fell out of view.

Reforming on solid ground, he did what he did best; run fight run. He knew that there were doors on every side of a shadow temple how did he know that?, he just had to reach the one in front of him. He could hear shouting behind him and he pushed himself to run faster. Reaching the door, he slid under in a rush.

Only to slam straight into solid block. Reforming confusedly in the half-space afforded by the door, he stared dumbly at the iron blocks blocking his path. They had trapped him here. They? They.

The door opened, causing him to fall backwards with a yelp, having used the door to support himself. He blinked up at the silver figure above him, who gave him a sheepish grin.

“Hey, could you not run away for a bit? We kinda need to talk to you.” the person said, hand rubbing the back of his helmet as his eyes flicked to the side. Do I know you? He took the opportunity to dissipate into the floor, sliding into the natural shadow cast by the person before him. Slithering between the man’s feet, he quickly identified another door and dashed under it, reforming in the small space on the other side crouched low.

He felt disoriented, everything felt new yet old. He knew words that didn’t hold meaning, meaning that had no words, memories with no context. The fog in his mind he was previously unaware of gave him little, only hints that made his mind spin. He shifted slightly, frustrated, and felt something wrapped around his chest moved too. Jolting, he looked down at the object around his chest.

Resting against his chest piece was a purple feathered cloth, feathers fraying at the edges. At the center was a singular purple feather, perfect against the worn edges of the others. The cloth seemed twisted, as though the purple feather was meant to be on the inside. His mind focused on the colour. Purple. Just like that glowing item he had been holding. Was it the same item? His fingers wandered up to investigate, curious.

As soon as his fingers touched the feather, the fog in his mind lifted, and he remembered.

Shuddering, Cavalier curled forwards over his chest, quickly adjusting the favour around his chest to hide the most central piece behind its golden clasp, sat snugly against his breast. His hands couldn’t find the will to leave the comfort of the feather as he quickly flipped through the memories of what happened before and during his confused state.

The Empire is probably gone, he realised. Nothing more than crumbling, smoking ruins. And the enhanced darkness of the Shadow Lands was likely from Abyss exerting its power. And the person who killed him…

Cavalier shook his head, moving on to the next thought. The door he had run for was blocked off, and so was the one he was taking shelter in. Chances were, the other doors were blocked too. Guess he had to speak to the silver figure. At least they sounded nice. Problem. Who even wore silver?

…Oh.

Sighing, Cavalier allowed themselves to slide under the door and reform on the other side. From his angle, he couldn’t see anyone, although the sound of movement and words echoed through the chamber from the other side of the cavernous room. Logically, he knew that he should step around and address the voices. But in his mind, he couldn’t leave the comfort of an escape, something to hide behind, a door to slide under and away, even if it was a dead end. Instead, he called out. “Hello? Wels?”

All noise in the room halted abruptly, before it started up again, the sound of iron boots on brick. Two plumes rose above the platform, bobbing gold and red. Cavalier’s hand came up to grip his arm. Looks like Wels wasn’t alone.

The three knights stared at each other, two standing above one, tension thick in the air. Cavalier could see the sword Paladin had and Wels lacked and knew that he didn’t have one either. He gripped his arm tighter.

The tension was broken when Wels sighed, stepping down to a lower stair before sitting down. He gave Cavalier a tired smile. “Hey Cavalier. Are you ready to talk with us now?”

Cavalier nodded his head. Wels patted the stone step next to him. He watched as Paladin, standing a step behind Wels, sat down beside him, their blue cape swept to one side to avoid hitting Wels. He let his hand untense, feeling the quickly closing marks where his fingers had dug in. He didn’t sit, nor did he let his hand drop from his arm. He didn’t feel safe enough in the room to do so, not with the advantages Wels and Paladin had over him.

Especially seeing as Paladin had not untensed. Cavalier was weak, not stupid. He knew his advantages, and a fight was the last thing he wanted now.

“Cavalier.”

His attention snapped back to Wels, quick and frightened. He sighed. “We’re not going to hurt you. We just need to inform you of some, ah, changes to the server since you were gone.”

The sentence made Cavalier feel tense, like a string about to snap. “Why can’t Puzzler tell me that himself?” he asked. Defensive, he was being too defensive, he had to calm down or he won't get out easily. His fingers started to dig into his arm again. He watched Wels hesitate over the answer. A grey gauntleted hand appeared on Wels’ shoulder, gripping tight.

“Because Puzzler doesn’t exactly exist anymore.”

The world stopped entirely, tilted off the central axis of what Cavalier knew. It was now narrowed, leaving only himself drifting before the two whose worlds still held each other. He didn't even try to control the dangerously surging emotion that prompted their next words, too thrown to care. "W-what? Th-that's not possible. Shadows don't just, just, stop existing!"

He saw Wels and Paladin avert their eyes, hands reaching to hold in comfort even as they looked away from each other, and he envied them. Their worlds were safe in their hands. His had just been ripped away. He saw yellow particles that danced like stars in his vision, twirling away from him. He almost missed when Wels began speaking. No, explaining.

"You were at the siege on the Empire, correct? Long story short, Abyss won. No one except Abyss, Grian and Puzzler knows what happened up there, but Puzzler doesn’t exist anymore. Abyss took the influence of The Watchful Eyes out of Puzzler, now he goes by 3D and the Empire is no more. I think when you meet 3D for real you’ll see what I mean when I say that Puzzler is gone.”

Static filled his ears as the yellow lights continued to wink before him. Puzzler was gone? Well and truly gone? That means that the Empire was gone too. He couldn’t think of any reason that the Empire would be able to continue without Puzzler. His thoughts were spiralling out of control, but what was the use of controlling them? His safety, his comfort, his ground, it was all gone now. Without the Empire, he had no purpose, and if he had no purpose, then he was useless. No one would want him, he who was powerless and useless and unable to even defend himself at all-

“Cavalier, breathe, calm down.” His own voice- was it his own voice he didn’t quite know- cut through the static in his mind. He could faintly feel a hand on his shoulder, another gently pulling at his hand. He didn’t breathe, shadows didn’t need to, but he did force himself to calm down, mentally placing iron dams on his thoughts. Yellow still flowed past his eyes and static roared. The hand tugging on his grew more insistent. He looked down.

From his arm spilled light, bright yellow against washed out grey. His fingers were dug deep into the tear, spilling light and preventing the rift from closing. Two hands, one grey and one silver, were tugging at his fingers, trying to get them to unhook from the rift. He watched enraptured as his fingers were pried free one by one, letting the motions of being controlled comfort him. Slowly, the tear closed, leaving behind no trace of it existing, taking the static and yellow light with it. He didn’t lift his eyes from where the tear had mended, not wanting to face the reality he newly remembered.

“Cavalier, please look at us.” The words, while soft, carried a commanding edge that Cavalier could not ignore. He lifted his head to meet Wels’ eyes, all too near him, read the worry, concern in that glance and knew that he had given too much emotion. “We understand that this is a lot to take in, but please calm down. Talk to us?”

He didn’t want to talk, not anymore. He wanted to be alone, where he could sort out his thoughts in peace. He wanted to be far away from here, away from this reality. He wanted-

He wanted-

He wanted stability. But he didn’t know where to get it, and he couldn’t leave. He lifted an arm to bat away the hand on his shoulder, replacing it with his own, grounding himself. “What’s going to happen to me now?” He had to strain to keep the stammer out of his voice, staring Wels dead in the eyes.

“You can stay with us.” There was no hesitation when Wels said that. Cavalier took a step back, eyes narrowing. There was no way they had forgiven his part in the war that easily. A small voice whispered in his head, repeating the words Puzzler had drilled into him. You’re a part of the Empire now. No one else would help you if you fall. We are at war with everyone.

Wels seemed to have taken his silence as a question, for he began to explain. “They’re still looking for any shadows with feathers. Right now, you are safest with us. You can leave once the search dies down. Is that alright?”

His hand moved down from his shoulder to his chest, fingers brushing over the central clasp that held his feather. The voice whispered harshly. Everyone is out to get you. Trust no one. Just look around. He shook his head, looking away from Wels only to meet Paladin’s eyes. He saw the hardened look, the tensed shoulders, and knew he couldn’t stay. “I can’t. I’ll be fine on my own I swear. Can I go now?”

He felt Wels shift closer, could hear the inhalation before words, but he saw Paladin’s opening mouth. “You won’t make it for long. Everyone knows who was in the Empire. This is probably the last safe place for you, unless you believe you are strong enough to go against Abyss.”

Cavalier could feel his chest tighten at that. Everyone knows you’re weak. He had to go. But he also couldn’t risk a fight, weak and unarmed and outnumbered. Cavalier knew his weaknesses. But he also knew his advantages.

“And what about you? How will I know if either of you won’t take my feather while I’m not looking? Paladin is still under Abyss, and I don’t trust that.” He pointed out, taking yet another step away from the two. Yes, use that sharp wit and gathered blackmail. It will take you far. He blinked, remembering something. He turned slightly to point at Wels. “And you made a deal with the Vex. How am I supposed to feel safe in the house of my enemies?”

Wels flinched away from him while Paladin took an aggressive step forward, growling deep in their throat. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if I was working with Abyss. And don’t you dare insult Wels like that, he made a deal with the Vex to keep us both safe! And you will respect that, it takes guts to haggle with the Vex, although I’m sure you wouldn’t know that, sheltered as you are.”

Cavalier forced his hands away from his body, knowing that his natural reaction to aggression was to retreat inwards. Here and now, he needed to show no fear. Fear will be your enemy and death its consequence. Remember your role and play it well. Clenching his fists, he shot back, head held at an angle Puzzler used. "Keep us both safe? Don't make me laugh. Do you look like you've been kept safe? You've got blue! Is that called 'kept safe' to you?"

The rumbling growl grew louder as Paladin's cape rippled, unfurling seamlessly into a set of draconic wings. He could see Wels reach out and grab Paladin on the shoulder, clearly attempting to pull them back. A wing slapped him backwards and away, and then Paladin was speaking, teeth gritted tight in anger. "These are not corruption. These are a gift from Wels. It’s something given when others care about you, for your information. I bet you don’t even have a gift, since everyone hates the Empire and by extension you.”

Cavalier put a hand over his breast where his own feather lay, affronted by this assault on the Empire. The Empire is your everything now. Protect it from insult. “Excuse you, but the feathers of loyalty given to us are gifts. Puzzler cares about us and gifts us with power beyond what your tiny mind can understand.” He sincerely hoped Paladin didn’t ask what Puzzler’s gift to him was, much less try to fight him to force him to ‘use’ it. That would be a lot more difficult to explain.

Paladin’s teeth were clenched by now. Cavalier could see them tense, shoulders rolling, and then suddenly they were in his face, hand twisted into his favour lifting him off the floor. Cavalier shook his head clear of his distractions, Your overactive mind is both a weakness and a strength, hands already trying to push Paladin away. The other shadow seemed unaware of his discomfort, snarling face pushed near his as their draconic wings loomed overhead. “I think this so called power has gone to your head. I’m assuming this feathered piece here is that gift of yours. Maybe if I remove it, you might be less cocky!”

Cavalier’s eyes widened in panic. Before he could protest, much less properly panic, a ripping sound resounded through the chamber, and the cursed fog rushed in to cover most of what made him Cavalier.

It landed on its backside, blinking confusedly. Above it came a hiss, accompanied by words which held no real meaning to it. It looked up at the shadow before it, yellow and blue and holding something purple. It’s focus zeroed in on the purple object. That’s mine whispered something hauntingly through the fog. It considered, tilting its head. The other shadow seemed angry, and it spoke words that didn’t always have a meaning in its mind. They have a power said the whisper in its head. So they were more powerful? Then it wasn’t going to attack them over such a small thing. It’s not it’s not a small thing get it back.

Another figure appeared behind the shadow, placing a silver hand on their shoulder. The shadow turned to speak to the silver figure, giving it full view of who it was. Instincts washed over it, screaming at it to attack, kill, hostile. Without a sound, it shifted onto all fours and leapt at the silver figure.

The silver figure shouted in surprise, falling back onto the floor. It tore at the silver figure, hands punching and scratching at exposed flesh, deaf to the shouting at attempts to fend it off. All it knew was that this was an enemy, and it needed to kill them.

Suddenly, it was being lifted off its target and held in the air. A primal fear washed over it, overriding any aggression in it and replacing it with the need to touch the ground again. It struggled against the tight bonds on it, kicking back at whoever was holding it. It felt its foot impact something hard, its attacker grunting, and then it was being dropped.

It slid into the shadow seamlessly, barely feeling the impact of being dropped. Reforming quickly, it tried once more to attack the silver figure, who had retreated a fair distance away. Before it could get near its objective, it was picked up yet again. This time however, its feet stood on something solid yet flowing even as it was restrained. It looked down and saw a swath of blue beneath it. It looked so unnatural, made something in it squeeze up.

Steps in front of it took its attention. The silver figure had approached it, empty hands held up. They were speaking, but only some words registered with meaning.

“... wrong … you? Why … attack me? ... Can you understand me? …?”

It didn’t know what was being asked of it. It just wanted the silver figure gone. It tugged at its restraints, wondering why it couldn’t turn into a shadow against it.

A set of silver hands approached its shoulders. Tilting its head forward, it opened its mouth and bit down hard. The hand felt hard. “!!!” The hard hands were jerked back away from it, leaving a slight ache in its mouth. The silver figure turned their head to speak at someone behind it. Voices filled with half-understood words flew over it as it turned its attention back to breaking out of its bonds. It didn’t understand what was preventing it from dissolving into shadow, all that was holding it up were silver clad beings and a blue cloth!

The voices fell silent, and it looked back up at the silver figure. It noticed that it was holding the purple object in their hands. Mine whispered the voice. The figure stepped forward, holding the object up. “...give back… alright?”

Yes yes give it back. The voice was no longer a whisper, muffled shouts distorted in its mind. The duality of what it wanted confused it, and it let the silver figure tie the purple item around its left arm.

The central golden clasp touched its skin, and the fog in its mind was abruptly swept away. Shuddering, he slumped at the sudden information overload, mind working overtime to process the confused thoughts and equate them to what he knew. He felt the favour being tightened around his arm, heard Wels take a big step away from him. He blinked at the blue cape beneath him, feeling the push and pull of Vex magic beneath his feet.

“Cavalier? Are you back with us?”

He tiredly lifted his head. “Yeah…” His answer came out as a whisper, but he couldn’t find it in him to speak any louder. “Thank you for returning the feather.”

Shifting behind him, then the armour stands holding him up were gently lowering him to the floor. He adjusted his legs to allow himself to sit comfortably on the cape beneath him. The armour stands let go of his arms and moved to stand guard behind him, but he couldn’t care any less in that moment. He hugged his left arm close to his chest, fingers wandering over the favour. Feeling tears in the cloth, he choked back a whimper and instead readjusted the favour to allow it to be tight while looking presentable, the feather under golden clasp held snug against his skin.

Someone cleared their throat, prompting him to look up. At some point while he was busy checking himself over, Paladin had walked around him and was now sat next to Wels, missing their cape. Their expression was simultaneously wary yet concerned, and to his surprise he noted that the concern was directed towards him. He gripped his favour closer to himself, remembering what Paladin had done earlier. They seemed to have noticed, averting their eyes and opening their mouth. “Sorry I took your feather from you. Seems like it is important to you.”

He felt so tired, he just wanted to run all the bad feelings away. “It’s alright. You didn’t know. Not many do.”

“Could you tell us then? What does that feather do?”

Cavalier flinched. Tell someone outside the Empire? He couldn’t, that was dangerous and-

There was no Empire anyway. His now calmed mind, with no voices speaking to him, laid out the situation cleanly. He needed to find someone else he could trust, and they were willing to give him a chance. Taking a deep breath, he took the plunge. “The feather is a symbol of loyalty to the Empire. I never asked for anything, but Puzzler thought it better to gift me with intelligence so that I could be useful to the Empire sooner.”

“Sooner?” came the whispered question from Paladin. They looked back, eyes boring into Cavalier. “What does that mean?”

And that was the question he had hoped to avoid. “It means I wouldn’t have to die a few times to speak and think clearly like a normal shadow.”

Paladin’s confusion was palpable. “How many times have you died then?”

He gave a crooked smile. “Just ask Wels.”

Paladin turned to look at Wels, eyes silently pleading for a response. Wels closed his eyes. “I never really noticed, but he’s right. He hasn’t died enough to talk this smoothly.”

“Wels, you’re stalling.”

“...I’ve only had to resummon Cavalier 6 times in total, including now.”

Wels opened his eyes, new understanding and confusion in them as he looked at Cavalier. “But that doesn’t quite explain why you attacked me when you lost the feather. What happened?”

The reminder of being lost made him shudder, fingers digging into the feathers of the favour. “We’re only hostile mobs in the end,” he muttered, unwilling to look up. “Everything I am as Cavalier only happened after I got the feather. Without it, I am back to square one, with foggy memories and half-remembered words. I can’t ever be separated from it, or I lose my identity.”

“And it also keeps you bound to Puzzler’s side, doesn’t it?” came Paladin’s question, pity in their voice. Cavalier cringed at the thought of being chained, shaking his head. The room fell silent.

Yet again, Wels was the one to break the silence. “Cavalier, do you feel safe with us? Be honest.”

His head shake drew a sigh out of Wels. “I can only think of one other place where you can be safe. Do you know where Stress’ Shadow Daycare is?”

The daycare? Of course he did, so many shadows converged there daily that it was the main place that Puzzler sent him to. He nodded.

Wels laced his fingers together, hands forming a small tent. “You should stay there for a bit. Stress has a very strict no fighting policy that no one dares defy other than Distress. Paladin and I may stop over to visit though. Is that arrangement alright for you?”

Cavalier considered. The Daycare was big, open, and neutral space where fighting was banned. And he found that he didn’t mind seeing Wels and Paladin again. Today had been a mess of miscommunication, but if they wanted to try, he wouldn’t mind being closer to them. He smiled at Wels and Paladin. “That sounds much better, actually. Maybe one day I will feel safe enough to visit you instead?”

The knights smiled back. “Maybe some day. You can leave whenever you want, I’ve already unblocked the doors.”

Cavalier smiled softly, standing. “Guess I’ll be seeing you around then. And please, keep my secret safe.”

Turning, he stepped onto the temple floor proper, dissolving into shadow and slithering out of the building. Reforming outside, he took his bearings. Locating some distant icons, he began to run, moving towards his new future as the world turned around him.

#shadow people au #wels #cavalier #paladin #ah yes the knight trio is all here now #I finally write them together!#but their first meeting isn't exactly the smoothest #they'll get better don't worry!#they just need some work #and yes I changed the number of deaths #partly for different events #partly cause the number felt too small #no triggers this time!#my writing #happy new years gift to yall #<3 #EDIT TRIGGER TAGS #manipulation #intrusive thoughts

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symphonic--chaos · 5 years

Note

Hey I wanted a fic where maybe Rafe or Max gets kidnapped and Malec just loses it and tracks down the person who took their little blueberry or Rafe. Also a really angsty fic where they are just sad and pissed off and all. I mean they’re both trying to be strong each other but kinda end up hurting each other or pushing the other away/having an argument or something. A lot of angst. But happy ending in the end obviously with a lot of tears and fluff. (badass+angsty dads)

Going to a carnival had been all Magnus’s idea, he’d asked just once if Alec thought the boys would be a good enough age to let them go and enjoy one and, despite his mistrust of large crowds, Alec had eventually come around and agreed they could take them. They’d spent time researching different ones across the world, but eventually came to a mutual agreement that perhaps state-side would have been safer, both for Alec’s knowledge of where all the institutes within them were in case of emergency, and also because of language barriers with both Alec and the kids.

“Here’s some money for you and your brother, Auntie loves you more than any of your other aunts and uncles no matter what they say.” Izzy said with a grin as she handed a small panda change purse to Rafael after tucking a few bills within it.

“You really don’t need to give them money, I have money, Isabelle,” Magnus mused with an arched brow, only to be waved off by the shorter figure as she stood and ruffled Rafael’s hair.

“Of course I do, they give me joy, I give them money. It’s an aunt thing.” Isabelle replied matter-of-factly with a toss of her hair. Magnus had not once ever heard of aunts or uncles just giving kids money solely for bringing them joy, but he wasn’t going to argue with her.

“You’re all set with Chairman and where all his necessities are…?” Magnus checked once more, his hand brushing Alec’s as the dark-haired male passed him, that bright smile flashed back at him over his shoulder in response.

“Yes, cabinet, cabinet, porch. Food, treats, toys and litter. Plus the…sweaters in the closet, brush and fashion collars in the drawer.” She knew she wouldn’t be changing his outfit and collar every day, but she knew it would please him that she remembered where they were ‘in the event he needed to look his best’.

“Come on, we’re going to be late for the train.” Alec returned carrying Max, having helped him change into his favorite dark blue jeans and his red T-Rex hood. The small tail on the base of it swayed over Alec’s arm with each long stride he took as if they were big dinosaurs, the boy accentuating the cuteness with loud ‘Rawr’s.

“Ready!” The boy said to Magnus excitedly as he noticed him in the room, lifting a little blue fist into the air. Max promptly broke into giggles as Alec wiggled his fingers against the briefly exposed belly, squirming then to try and get away from him. They’d only been a family for a couple years now, but it always warmed Magnus’s heart to know how well the boys had adapted to the change in their lives.

Looking to Rafael with a smile, Magnus offered a hand to the boy who looked clearly confused by the panda coin purse, tucking it quickly into Magnus’s pocket before his fingers curled around his father’s hand. It was something that Isabelle couldn’t help but make an excited noise over, quick to pull out her phone and snap a picture of the two, then motioned for Alec and Max to join in. “Get together, say ‘Cheese’!” That was what the mundane’s usually said to earn their smiles, but it only earned a questioning look from Rafael, his brow arching and lip curling in the picture, clearly telling of the ‘Why?’ that had accompanied the look.

~~“Oh, look at these cute little toys.” Magnus cooed, bopping the nose of one of the plush dragons at the vendors stand. “I know who would love one of these…” He gave a knowing glance to Max then, who’s eyes were larger than saucers, fingers already reaching for the green one.“Me! I have, please! Please!” The blue child said almost desperately, his horns hidden under a too large hood but threatening to spill out. Alec held on tight, knowing that if he kept any looser of a grip the boy would have easily spilled out. “PLEASE, PAPA!” “Okay, okay! It’s okay, Max!” Alec said with a laugh as he adjusted the boy in his arms to instead move him onto his shoulders. “I want to get it…” Rafael said after a long moment of contemplation. “I want the money now.““Rafe, save the money Izzy gave you, we’ll buy it, it’s no iss-” Magnus started, only to see Rafe’s sure and stubborn face looking up to him as he quickly replied with a firm ‘No.’

Magnus let out a quiet breath, knowing that stubborn look all too well- not only had he come from Buenos Aires with it, but it had only grown exponentially due to a certain Shadowhunter.

“Okay, okay. Let me get the money.” Magnus caved, releasing his hand to reach into the opposite pocket, his free hand already holding the long jacket out of the way. “You know, I’m very proud that you’re spending your money to get M…..Rafe?” The questioning tone had Alec turning his body back to Magnus and their son, having turned Max around so he could poke at a lantern bouncing around in the wind. Magnus seemed confused and rightfully so, as Rafael was gone. Alec turned once more as he looked at the vendor, who was busy selling to other kids, and to their right, an empty space. Nowhere for Rafael to hide, no one around to be blocking their view.“Where is he, Magnus?” Alec’s voice was low, panic already seeping in. A light pat to his head had him realizing he was now holding Max’s ankles too tight, as if he were subconsciously worried that the small one would disappear as well. “Magnus, where’s Rafael?”“I-I don’t know, I let go just for a second so I could get the change purse out of my pocket. He was right here, practically leaning against me, I don’t know how…” He turned quickly, the boys name loudly called then, in a desperate manner that only a nervous parent could manage.

“Rafe!” Max yelled from Alec’s shoulders, immediately catching on that something was wrong and his brother was missing. It didn’t take long before the other two separated and followed suit, calling the boys name.

Using his powers to try and trace any types of footprints from the area they’d been standing had let him see that there was Rafael’s and another set that had stopped behind the small set. The part that confused him most was the fact that neither of them had seen anyone approach, and those steps were where all ended, as if they just… vanished. There was no retreating footprints in any direction, no hint of leftover magic from the spot, like Rafael and whomever had him had just disappeared into thin air. Magnus felt terrible. This was his fault and his throat felt like it was closing up just realizing that if he hadn’t let go of Rafe’s hand, he’d still probably be here. They would be walking and enjoying the carnival, eating greasy foods that they would normally never feed to the children, giving them mountains of cotton candy bigger than their heads and dealing with the sugar-high repercussions later, as if it wasn’t hard enough getting Max to bed.

Magnus had let go, even after all the times he’d promised that beautiful little Argentinian boy that he never would.

Alec weaved through the crowd, calling for their son, his eyes tracing quickly through the crowds as he studied faces and different areas that could possibly be used to hide, though despite what he wanted to believe, he knew that Rafael wouldn’t do this. He was sneaky, rebellious, certainly a terror sometimes, but he knew better than this. This wasn’t something Rafael would put either of them through, especially not Magnus or Max, of whom was still on his shoulders, using the height advantage to look over the crowd, occasionally yelling the other boys name. “Rafael!” He joined in, looking down each alley he passed as the Nyx rune granted him nightvision to see if the boy had perhaps hidden in one.

“RAFAEL!” Magnus yelled, his voice almost cracking, the glamour on his eyes flickering as the magic began seeping from his fingers. Every bit of composure he’d had about himself and managed to hold for decades beginning to crumble away as he felt his heart sink lower and lower. When was the last time his stomach ached like this? Like there was some small, clawed beast digging away at everything within him in a desperate attempt to escape. As Alec’s same yell echoed from across the large crowd, Magnus swallowed, knowing their boy hadn’t been found yet and it only caused his throat to feel thick as he felt dread overcame him.

That dread only grew as he came across a small dirty area with shuffled footprints and two small drops of blood that seemed to have a purple sheen to it- certainly not Rafael’s. However, what was Rafael’s, was the small shoe resting against the wall nearby.

He’d been kidnapped.

“ALEXANDER!”

Magnus’s fingers toyed with the panda change purse in his pocket as he and Alec made their way towards the building they had tracked Rafael to using Alec’s tracking rune. He hadn’t been able to stop touching it, knowing it was the very last thing Rafael had touched other than his own hand, the same way Alec kept the small shoe in the large front pocket of the hoodie he wore. Every emotion that passed the younger’s face broke Magnus’s heart, knowing how attached he was to the boy that he’d worked so hard to protect, and here he was, the cause of his panic.

“Magnus.” Came the quiet voice as Alec’s feet halted, swift unlike the slight stumble that Magnus’s normally steady feet were. “Come here.” It was followed up by Alec’s hand reaching out, pulling the warlock into his arms as his lips rested in the crook of his neck for a brief and gentle kiss before he lifted his head to meet the others shining cat-like eyes. “I can read it all over your face, this isn’t your fault.”

Magnus’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried looking away, only for Alec to turn his face towards him once more, wanting him to believe him. “I mean it, Magnus. This isn’t your fault.”“I let go of his hand–”“You let go of his hand to give him something he wanted. How were we supposed to know someone…or thing, was following us? How were we supposed to know someone wanted Rafe? This isn’t your fault, but we’re going to make the person who’s fault it is, pay.” Alec’s voice had become lower in register, raw as if he were going to cry, though there was more anger in his eyes than sorrow. Not at Magnus, but at the kidnapper.

“You’re right. You’re… Of course you’re right. He’s still here, right?” Magnus finally caved, motioning to the corner store they were outside of, looking like it had seen better days and had been abandoned for years. He could feel magic coming off of it in waves, no doubt there were wards littering the walls, which could only mean it had been a warlock that had taken Rafael.

“Yes, he’s still here. Max, do you remember what to do if anyone comes near you?” He asked the small boy holding his hand, who looked up to Alec with a determined nod. They’d been working on his magic once he’d proved he could reject advances of a demon, starting small with defensive maneuvers that were easy to master, especially with a tiny bit of help from ‘Bapa’.

The trio made their way into the building, Alec’s arm tight around Max, whom he was now carrying to make sure they stayed together. Their attempt to create a portal to get him to safety with Izzy had been something they didn’t want to do out of fear of losing him like Rafe, but it had also been something Max didn’t want, the small blue one screaming like a banshee and clinging to Alec’s arms. “I help save brother! I HELP!” This was the outcome of what it had led to.

“Ah look, your saviors finally found you.” A lisped voice called from a higher area, Alec’s gaze rising to the stairwell to the right overlooking the area they stood in. “He was expecting us,” Magnus said lowly, just enough for Alec to hear, “There are wards everywhere, we shouldn’t have been able to get in if he didn’t think we’d find them.”

“Give me my brother!” Max yelled, an angry growl following as he glared up to the man above them, only to look more than insulted when the man laughed at him and came out of the shadows one step at a time.

“How cute, you brought another one.” The man on the stairs mused, another voice following his from the corner of the room as Rafe was pushed out in front of the lithe figure, his hands bound behind him. This voice was higher pitched and questioningly female, their face perfectly androgynous with the sharp facial features and hawk-like nose, though their hair fell in long, well cared for curls around their shoulder. “The blue one could fetch a pretty penny in the market.”

Magnus could feel the air around them shift, this was the one the wards were created from, this was the one behind Rafe being taken. However, it wasn’t just their presence that caused the tension, he realized, as he heard the ragged inhale beside him from Alec, Max slowly lowered to the floor behind them. Magnus’s hand shifted, magic swirling and weaving tightly to his fingers, only bits sparking back to create an invisible wall behind them to ensure there wasn’t an ambush or anyone to appear behind Max and take him as well.

Alec’s voice changed then, in a way Magnus had never heard before. This voice was so much more than the authoritative leader voice he carried with the other Shadowhunters, this voice was a raw, deep and threatening voice. Something about it sent chills up Magnus’s spine, goosebumps hidden by the fine jacket covering his arms- something that perhaps in a bedroom setting would be enjoyable, but here… this voice was terrifying.

“Give us. Our son. Now.”

It was that voice that had the fear in Magnus’s body shift, all that worry about how this could all go down where they weren’t just dealing with some Mundane or simpler Downworlder, morphing into pure, unadulterated rage. Like someone who poured gasoline on wood before igniting it, Magnus’s powers began forming not only on hands, but traveled like flames all up his body. He was ready for anything and he felt Alec shift beside him, his legs parting in a stance that was ready to attack, one he knew well from the training Alec had given the boys almost every night.

“If only it were that easy. Your kind, you shadowhunters, killed people we loved. We took him as payment, an eye for an eye, ya know?” The androgynous one said in their strange tone, which Magnus finally realized sounded as if two people were speaking at the same time.

“We considered making him a slave, but that’s too good. Bait was better. Now we have all of you. Two Shadowhunters in one room, and two more warlocks. One that can be trained by me.” The voice once floating above them was now level, the man looking past them at Max as his hand came to rest on Rafe’s shoulder.

The bow appeared in Alec’s hand the minute the man touched Rafe, and even from his side Magnus could see the way Alec’s hand shook when nocking the arrow. The bowstring was held but not drawn, his patience small, lingering, but still there as he’d been trained to have. Magnus shifted his hand over, resting it lightly on his arm in a ways to calm him, hoping that just reminding the Shadowhunter that he was there with him, that it would help.

“The only person that will be training Max, is myself.” Magnus said quietly, his voice dripping with the warning of every threat that could have possibly been flung. “It’ll be okay, Rafe, I promise. I’m sorry.”

Briefly, Magnus’s gaze had dropped to their son, wanting to assure him that nothing would happen to him. The glow of blue in his hand only grew as Rafael was roughly pulled back, pushed into a chair and quickly enchanted so he couldn’t escape. What may have been something to bring kids to tears was nothing to Rafael, though the boys chest heaved and his mouth was gagged, his hands bound so tight Magnus knew he’d have to heal him, his eyes were clear of tears. If anything, they reflected the rage his parents had, that anger something that Alec remembered when they had first met in the Shadow Market. Rafael was keeping his calm, staying cool and collected and waiting for his moment like Alec had trained him in emergency situations.

Patience, unlike Alec, was not something he could find in himself when those he loved were threatened. The minute the man stepped forward with a glowing sword in hand, Magnus’s magic had already grown in hand, the ball quickly flung in his direction to disarm him. The androgynous one seemed to be ready for it, diverting it into the wall to their right, easily shattering the doorframe and quarter of the wall there.

It was queue enough to Alec who drew the bowstring and aimed his arrow at the warlock, only halting from releasing it due to Rafael being directly behind them. Alec’s breath escaped short and sharp, but the small boy seemed to understand and with a muffled yell, he threw himself sideways, causing the chair he was on to tip. It was less than a second before the arrow was released, hurtling in the air towards the warlock that had looked back to see what the movement behind them was. There was a thud as it landed in their shoulder, a howled shriek of pain leaving them as their fingers quickly moved to rip it free.

Magnus had wasted no time hurling everything he had in him at the male by the stairs, balls of sparking magic and energy chasing him along as he dove to avoid being hit by each. “Max, get ready, baby.” He called back to the little one, finally stepping forward and away from him to go after the man. Max was careful to stay where he was, knowing the protection Magnus had put up around him would keep him safe enough unless it was destroyed, though it was clear in his little face that the boy wanted to go to his brother.

“Vena, take out the warlock!” The man yelled to the one now tossing the arrow aside and forgetting about their hostage behind them and instead running at Alec and Max, their own magic beginning to travel up their arms and shoulder, causing the platinum curls to begin to float as a frustrated scream began forming in their chest. A blast curled it’s way towards Alec like orange tentacles on the air as his arrows, shot in rapid succession, fell out of their way. Magnus glanced back and focused one hand towards the barrier around Max, quickly working out the beginning of a spell to strengthen the ward, his attention failing him just enough for the ringleader to take advantage, rushing him and throwing his shoulder into Magnus’s chest. The taller of the two went down with a grunt, his barrier flickering as he shoved the man off of him, his fist going out and connecting with a stubbly jaw, his second going in a follow up right hook.

“NO!” Max shouted as he and Alec were approached by Vena when Magnus went down, his own little amount of magic feeding and surging off of the guard that Magnus had put up. A protective bubble of purple energy forming around himself and lifted him into the air, the defense and attack mechanism he and Magnus had worked on for months on end to perfect. The warlock lifted a hand to try and grab him through it, only to hiss loudly in pain, their hand smoking as it pulled back. Alec’s seraph blade was in his hand, glowing and flying through the air within seconds of Max’s yell, and not long after, Vena’s freshly severed hand was falling to the floor.

“Don’t touch my fucking kids.“ He panted as he regained his defensive stance, Max moving to float beside his father. “Max, stay in there, do not come out. Go stay by your brother.” He said as he turned the blade in his hand, pacing at Vena’s side as they writhed in pain on the floor, holding their stump of a wrist. “Come on, you wanna go after them, you’ll have to take us out, first. Get up.” He said as he lifted his arm and wiped sweat off his forehead, his body tense and ready. “Magnus, you alright back there?”

“Great!” Magnus called back with a loud grunt as he was shoved into a wall, feeling stronger now that he didn’t have as much going on in protecting Max. “So,” he pinned his opponent against the wall, his magic swirling around his neck as the flame-like magic reached his eyes. “Very,” the magic tightened and the man gagged, his feet lifting off the ground. “Great.” He finished as the man was slammed against the wall, knocked unconscious by how hard his head hit. Magnus’s attention turned then to Vena, lifting themselves up from the ground and cradling their lack of hand to their body.

“Are we done here? Have you learned your lesson?” Magnus asked as he tried to catch his breath, standing between Vena and their children. “We have a parade to go to, I’ve spent far too long planning this for you to ruin it for my kids, or anyone else’s kids.” He looked back as Rafe forced his arms around his legs, bringing them to the front and pulling at the cloth in his mouth as he tried to get free. “Stay in there, Max.” He followed up with Alec’s earlier words, not wanting to risk anything until everything was cleared.

“By the authority of the Clave, you’re both under arrest.” Alec’s grip tightened around the hilt of the sword, knowing fully well that they both wanted to do much more damage just for the trauma they put the kids through. Magnus harnessed what he had left of his energy, a portal opened beside him and moments later a few guards from the local Institute stepped through, grabbing both Vena and the unconscious man nearby. Before they had gone to find Rafael, they had made sure to get in touch with the nearest institute to have them on the ready. Alec watched them and looked to the one whom he’d spoken to, knowing he was the head of their Institute. “Make sure they go straight to Idris, straight to trial. Tell them to not show any mercy.”

Once they had gone through and the portal had closed, Alec let out the breath he’d been holding in, the seraph blade dropping to the floor as his hands rested on his knees and he bowed his head. Magnus moved immediately to Rafe, undoing the bindings around his wrists and legs, untying the fabric from around his neck where it had once been in his mouth. Max dropped out of the bubble and rushed towards Alec, who quickly scooped him up, his face burying in the small boys neck as he hugged him tight to himself, a relieved sigh muffled by Max’s sweatshirt. Rafe’s arms immediately went out to wrap around Magnus’s neck, the worry heavy on his face and Magnus knew that it wasn’t even for himself, but for he and Alec. His sassy, stubborn, selfless boy.

“I’m sorry. Lo lamento mucho, mi amor.” Magnus whispered, his arms wrapping tightly around Rafael as if he was afraid to let him go again, as if they were still around and about to take their boy away from him again. Rafe’s fingers curled in Magnus’s shirt, his breathing quick but stabilizing as he calmed in the elder’s arms, the tension leaving both their bodies. Alec’s arms soon joined as he dropped to his knees beside them, Max trapped (happily) between all three, squirming in between Magnus and Rafe then to hug his older brother.

“Do you want to go home? We can go home if you want. We don’t need to stay.” Alec asked Rafael before his lips rested on top of the boys head, pressing one, two, three kisses to the sweaty mop of curls.

There was a long moment of silence as Rafe looked between Magnus’s many necklaces, at the blood that had dripped down from his nose during his fight with the man earlier. They shifted to the side, to the rune covered arm wrapped around Magnus’s back, the other behind himself and keeping him close. Finally they rested on Max, his little face full of worry over his silence, the hood having fallen away to reveal the horns beneath as he looked up at his big brother. He took a deep breath and shook his head, trying to offer a smile to Max.“Max should see the parade. Sea feliz.” He said up to Magnus, who’s face softened as he offered a small smile and a nod.

“Okay,” Magnus started, then paused, “only on the condition that you let me carry you. Please?” It wasn’t that he didn’t trust it not to happen again, he would have held tighter to his hand, but now he just wanted to keep him as close and safe as possible.

“A DINOSAUR!” Max yelled happily over the loud music played by the passing marching band, a large dinosaur balloon passing by as walkers held the strings securely. Rafael held onto the green dinosaur they’d been looking at earlier, keeping it close to himself as he silently watched everyone passing by, Magnus’s hand gently stroking his back as his free arm supported the boy sitting on his hip. They had come to the agreement that if at any time Rafael wanted to leave, there would be no questions or hesitation, they would portal right out.

“Want to get some cotton candy?” Magnus whispered to Rafael as a vendor approached with his cart. Rafael’s fingers moved to his pocket, carefully pulling out the panda coin purse that Alec had stashed there earlier, offering it up to Magnus.

“Keep the money, Rafe. We’ll always take care of you.”

#malec #my fics #long post #magnus lightwood-bane #alec lightwood-bane #max lightwood-bane #rafael lightwood-bane #let alec swear 2k18 #crispyoperawolfdean

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minhyukie · 6 years

Note

Do you have any advice on how to color gifs so that they match a little better, such as if you're making different gifs from different videos for one set? Thank you in advance! I hope you're having/had a wonderful day, darling~

hi!! honestly it’s so hard to explain because the way you go about it is different depending on the lighting/location/colors? i’m gonna put this under a cut because i believe i’ll probably ramble but tldr use selective color and hue/sat or find an amazing psd

first u have to make sure that the lighting/contrast is the same!! so use brightness/contrast and/or exposure just to get the scenes similar in those aspects if neccessary!!

then if the lighting is like.. REALLY weird… like if there’s very yellow lighting in one gif or everything just seems to be tinted use color balance to sort of neutralize that as much as possible!

and then for the finer details and making them REALLY match use selective color and hue/saturation!! i use selective color more for things like making the skin tones match or making sure the whites are tinted the same way - like sometimes your “whites” may look more yellow in one gif but more blue in another gif, so making them appear the same shade of white will go a long way in making them match!!

and finally hue/saturation… she’s the love of my life… also goes a long way in making gifs match! the best way of doing it is by deciding what colors you want in your set and what colors you don’t - usually you can do with getting rid of yellows/greens and purples tbh but it depends on your preferences! the way u can deal with these colors is by either wiping them out entirely (set the saturation for the colors to a strong negative) or adjusting the hue so that they turn into a color you DO want in the gif (like if you change your greens into a blue that would match a blue already present in your other gifs).. i hope that kinda makes sense??

basically the whole goal is you want things to be the Same so you take two gifs side by side and ask whats the difference between these gifs.. usually you find that the shade of a color is different, or there’s more colors in one than the other, and then you figure out what you can do to make those the same (adjust the shade, or eliminate the color as naturally as possible)!!

lots of rambling here.. hopefully there’s something somewhat useful!! it’s really all about practice im still learning a lot too (and sometimes there’s videos with such god-awful lighting that its practically impossible)… worse case sometimes slapping on a good psd to all your gifs can do Wonders because other people are much more talented than i am :”) happy gifmaking!!

#markwarddimsum #sorry for the long answer hopefully it makes atleast a little sense!!#and thank u so much!! i hope u've had a great day too :D

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mimiplaysgames · 6 years

Text

Strength to Protect the Things That Matter (Ch. 18)

Pairing: Terra/Aqua (eventually) Rating: T Other characters: Aerith, Tifa, Leon (Squall), Ienzo, Cid, Garnet, Noctis Word Count: 4,750

Summary: Terra has prayed for years. He wanted relief from having no one to talk to in the dark, except with the monster of a man who stole his life. One day, when two boys get a lead, he gets his chance - less than a week - to set things right before he loses everything again.

AO3 FF.net

A/N: So this is supposed to be the ending of the previous chapter, but it was so long that I cut it. But I just really, really didn’t like the way the previous one ended and pushed to release this one as soon as possible. I finally got him to Traverse Town! I felt that he needed to go on a mission, and I’m not actually a big fan of rehashing Disney plotlines. I will use Disney worlds in the future. But the crossover nature of Final Fantasy as it’s treated in these games give me the legroom to try something a bit more original, and it was a great opportunity to actually world-build. For any Final Fantasy fans out there, these next few chapters will especially be for you~

Dream

He’s supposed to fly straight to Radiant Garden, but he tells himself that he has a bit of time to spare.

On his glider, Terra speeds through the black space that surrounds him, whipping past the millions of stars that may or may not be threatened by darkness. To him, it’s impossible to tell. Usually, he’d rely on his heart as a guide to find a place to land. At this moment, however, he has his mind set on one location.

He wills himself to picture it. The image of the castle in his mind is perfect like it was before, with its pristine windows intact. The towers are still standing, supported by the chains that keep them up. The grass is green, the sky is bright, the wind is breezy... and it’s home. Twelve years abandoned and neglected, what will it be like now?

It shouldn’t be far from where he is.

Which is why he stops for a moment, floating in the empty space as he breathes heavily inside his helmet. He has either been wandering for miles, or flying around in circles.

Yes, he hasn’t been back to help repair the damage it suffered when Xehanort destroyed it. He assumes no one has. But it still stood when he left it.

Terra grips his handlebars tightly, and it would have hurt if he didn’t have his hands covered by his thick gloves. Under no intention did he ever think that would have been the last time he saw the castle. Usually homes continue to exist. There are supposed to be there for anytime a loved one needs shelter. They are supposed to last forever.

I can’t lose it now. I don’t need it. I just need them. We can make a new home somewhere else.

This is harder to make himself believe, and Terra sat alone, telling himself over and over again that he doesn’t need his home anymore. Each time he thinks it, he gets a little more nauseous and more willing to beat the handlebars of his glider. This is exactly what Xehanort told him that day.

It isn’t home. They are.

He shakes his head furiously, and steers his glider off to the opposite direction before cranking it to full-speed.

So much has happened since he last stepped into Tifa’s restaurant that it already feels like being in a past life. Since it’s still in the middle of the day, it is closed. But the front door is open, which means that she’s around here somewhere.

The wooden tables, benches, and chairs are all perfectly set up, ready to be used when the evening comes around. The bar area in the corner is clean, all the bottles and glasses neatly arranged. Behind the bar is the usual doorway he would take where he would find the stairs that lead to his former room.

He puts Rainfell down on a table close to the bar and calls out Tifa’s name.

“We’re closed!” It’s a reply he expects, but the voice isn’t hers.

Aerith briskly walks into the bar area and jumps when she sees him. She runs to hug him, happy to have him back. Tifa follows close by, and her hug is much more motherly, like she is welcoming dear family.

He chuckles as she lets him go. “I haven’t even been gone for two full days.”

Aerith leans over, her arms wrapped behind her back. “That just means you’re popular with the ladies.” She sits on a stool by the bar and pats the one next to her, which he takes.

Tifa gets behind the bar and starts filling a glass of water for him. There is a clipboard on the surface right in front of her; it looks as though the two of them are doing inventory.

“Please tell me you’re closer to finding them,” she says.

He hasn’t realized just how thirsty he is. “Actually, yeah.”

“I’m so glad to hear that.” Tifa exhales slowly and brings out groups of martini glasses to the bar so that Aerith can start counting. “The bed upstairs has fresh sheets in case you need them.”

“I’m supposed deliver something to Traverse Town by tonight. Keyblade wielder duties and all.”

“Then you need to stay there. But either way, until you find a new one, you’ll always have a home here.” Funny. It’s almost like fate is giving him another break. She smiles at him, and places her hand on his forearm. “I’m sorry but I still don’t have all the ingredients necessary to remake that potion. You’ve been rationing it, right?”

There is less than a quarter of that brown stuff left in its jar. “I have enough, don’t worry.” Making sure she doesn’t sense his mood, he brings out the sack that holds the two paopu fruit. “Can you freeze these for me?”

“Interesting shape,” she says as she peers into the bag.

“They’re only for Aqua and Ventus.”

She holds her hand up. “Say no more, I’ll freeze them right now.”

Aerith props her elbows on the bar and rests her chin into both of her hands, a dreamy smile on her face. “I hope your story has a happy, romantic ending.”

Terra scoffs into his water. “What are you even talking about?”

She smacks her lips and shoos him. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I think I should really stop talking too much.”

Aerith purposefully wrinkles her nose. “Actually you don’t talk very much at all. It’s the little things you say that give it all away, mister.” She nods quickly as if to make her point.

Tifa reappears laughing to herself before lifting her hands to imitate the clicking of a camera with her fingers. “When you find her, I’ll need to be ready to capture all the little magic moments.” She laughs harder, with Aerith reaching for her from across the bar and getting in on the joke.

He picks up Rainfell from the table and proceeds to go through the doorway. “It’s funny how you think you’ll get away with doing that. I’ll fight you over it.”

“I resent that, Terra,” she calls out from behind him as he heads up the stairs. “You’ll regret ever fighting me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he calls back, chuckling a little.

The upper hallway is tight, and the small door to the left leads to his old room. It’s free of dust and the window is open, allowing a nice breeze inside. He makes his way to the floorboard that squeaks the loudest. Aqua’s armor is still safely stored under it.

Sitting on his knees, he rests Rainfell on his lap, tracing the blade up to its teeth. It figures that it has not allowed him to wield it since he called for Xehanort’s Keyblade: Aqua would have given him a lecture about it if she was there, and since their weapon is an extension of their very own hearts, souls, desires, it would have agreed with her.

The Keyblade is straighter than he remembers from all the times he sparred with her, bearing a darker blue hue. Wondering if it now carries a different name, he gently places it into the crease of the floor knowing that it’s safe there.

As he walks down the streets, he notices the tiny changes that make all the difference: Aerith has been busy filling them with flowers, and some of the fountains that have been broken before are now running.

It’s only several blocks until he sees the group of white tents that store weapons, desks, and supplies for the people of the Restoration Committee. Leon is there, going through what else - reports (it always seems to be the case for him). But at least he looks far better rested now than ever.

Cloud, Lightning, and Zack are nowhere to be seen.

“You’ve been gone for so long, I nearly didn’t recognize you,” Leon says as shakes Terra’s hand.

“I’m glad to see my absence isn’t missed.”

“You must be a lucky charm, then.” Leon rests his hands on his waist. “We haven’t had an attack since you left. The others are actually expanding out in the fields. Light wanted to take back some territory to keep the Heartless away from here.”

Terra takes a long breath. Any good news for these people is welcome. “I hope they’re okay out there, fighting Heartless on their own.”

“They can definitely take care of themselves, don’t worry.” Leon reaches into his back pocket. “Before I forget, Aerith made this for you. She wanted to make sure you were ordained by me.”

A purple card naming Terra an honorary member of the Hollow Bastion Restoration Committee. “There’s an actual formality to being named one?”

Leon cocks his head and shrugs. “You’ve been ordained into the Committee. Congratulations, there you go.”

And that was it.

Terra puts the card into his own pocket. “That’s good enough.”

Leon gestures his head to the side. “The package you need to take is almost done. Follow me.”

On top of some long tables is a large wooden box and a smaller one. One of the scientists from Ansem’s castle, the quieter one with gray hair that is mostly done in front of his face, is filling the smaller one with potions.

It’s a wonder how he can get anything done with that much hair covering his face. Terra remembers from his time being imprisoned that this young man’s name is Ienzo, although they have never exchanged any sentences.

When Ienzo sees them, his expression freezes, almost as if he is trying to stop any semblance of surprise. He audibly clears his throat and adjusts his lab coat as he prepares to welcome them.

“Leon.” He nods his head at the commander of Radiant Garden’s military. Then he pauses as he stares at the Keyblade wielder.

“It’s Terra.” He holds his hand out, and Ienzo reluctantly takes it.

“Y-yes, I remember.” When he stops shaking his hand, he pulls on his collar. “I feel I must apologize profusely for the, um-”

“It’s fine, it wasn’t that big of a deal.” The only thing that makes this more awkward than it should be is the fact that Leon is still standing right there, like a watchdog.

Leon crosses his arms. “I’ll give you guys some room, but I won’t leave you alone with him.” He is clearly talking to Terra, but his gaze is focused on Ienzo, almost like a warning.

Ienzo clears his throat and forces a laugh as Leon walks away. “I’m sorry, it’s just that you look so much like him. Frighteningly so.”

Him... Terra forces a smile. “Actually, it’s the other way around.”

“Y-yes, of course. I didn’t mean to suggest...” Ienzo pulls a chair out for Terra to sit. “This isn’t the first time I have heard about a heart being stored in someone else. I’m actually working with Sora about this very same issue.”

Terra tenses a little. Does that mean he knows about Ven? That can’t be since Sora doesn’t know... Please don’t say anything. Don’t say Ven’s name. I can’t protect him if he hears.

Ienzo takes a shaky breath. “I just didn’t... I only found out about such things recently. I had no idea Xehanort was... someone else. None of us did.”

“It’s okay. There probably wasn’t a way for you to know.” Terra crosses his arms.

“I feel that I must apologize to you again.” Ienzo sits on his own chair.

“Why?”

“I just need to get this off my conscience. I grew up with Xehanort. He has been there for most of my life.” Ienzo nods as his eyes drift off. “I don’t know if you can relate, and perhaps this will be difficult for you to hear, but I aspired to be like him as I studied with him. He was just as much my teacher as Ansem the Wise.”

Terra stops breathing for a bit, and Ienzo notices. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No. I actually kind of wondered what he was like... as me.” It’s a strange thing to confess. The thought usually makes him clench his teeth, but curiosity is a strong force.

Ienzo exhales forcefully and struggles to grin. “He was respectful, yet emotionally distant. He commonly said that being emotional would only get in the way of work, and it was best to focus on the task at hand. He was incredibly intelligent. Myself and Even never really compared. He was a prodigy.” He nods to himself as he looks down to the ground. “We all thought we would make a tremendous break through in science, studying with him.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“We were trying to see if we can effectively take control over the mind.” Ienzo braves himself to meet Terra’s eyes as he says this. “I know - it’s an awful subject to study. It’s what led to the breakout of Heartless. But when you are so involved in such a project, and you are so close to getting final results - I think we were all consumed in trying to get answers. I know I was.” He rubs his hands together. “I deserved to be turned into a Nobody I suppose, for what I did. Xehanort had vision and charisma, yes, but I failed to see him for the monster he really was. For that, I ask for your forgiveness.”

“Of course.” Terra nods, forming a small smile and releasing the grip he’s been holding on his biceps.

Another nervous laugh. “You’re truly kind.” Ienzo gets up and fetches a notebook close by. “May I ask you a few questions, then? I-If you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead.” Terra crosses his legs. The movement is not comfortable or known to him. He has no idea why he wanted to do that, and uncrosses them.

“Do you have any memory of being Xehanort?”

“No. it was all...” Terra swallows a hard lump. “The only thing I saw was darkness. There was nothing else.”

Ienzo takes some notes down. “Interesting... I imagine you should be Xemnas’ age by now, but it looks like you’re quite young still. That is probably why.”

“What is probably why?”

“It sounds like your heart was cast in the abyss that exists inside all of us. It acts as a sanctuary to keep us so that our hearts don’t break. You haven’t aged because your heart has been sleeping for most of that time. It hasn’t experienced anything, any life. You can’t develop with no experience.”

Terra laughs, but it isn’t because what Ienzo said was funny. “A sanctuary? It was anything but.” He nearly goes on to talk about the agony and how often he has nearly given up, but doesn’t.

“I didn’t mean to suggest that it should be pleasant.” Ienzo tugs at his collar. “But there is no other way to explain it. That darkness is what houses our hearts. It’s like a mother’s womb. Yes, light is what gives us hope and illuminates every single thing we can see and interact with. Without it, there is no reason to live. But darkness... It can distort and disgust our perceptions, and it can make the most evil doings clandestine. But when we need to hide or protect ourselves, it’s the only thing that can actually give us shelter. No one survives under so much scrutiny under the light, if that makes sense. Only light judges.”

Nothing is really easy to understand anymore. This must be what it’s like to be an adult. He can’t help but think of Eraqus in this sense.

Ienzo laughs nervously again. “I’m sorry, I must sound like Xehanort. I suppose I still agree with him in those concepts. May I ask where he is now? Is he in that same abyss you were inhabited?”

Terra places his hand on his chest. “I don’t think so. He can hear what we’re saying, and see what I see.”

The scientist takes too long of a moment to speak again. “Is he wrestling for control then?”

Terra’s voice is low. “Yeah.”

“I can’t help you with that. Using a Keyblade against the heart is dangerous indeed, and it shouldn’t be tried.” He writes more notes. “I do have another question. Do you remember being Xemnas?”

“No.“

“Really? Being in the castle didn’t spark some familiarity to you?” He stops writing. “Xemnas spent quite some time there. He had a room to himself that he loved to pass the time in. Some of us were aware that he used to speak to himself, but I don’t know what exactly was stored in that room.”

A mindless clone of him, which tried to destroy all of the worlds at once, treasured her armor. Someone who has his face but has no history with her and therefore no business wanting to talk with her. It’s good that he doesn’t exist anymore, or else I’d punch him in the face.

“I suppose it’s not so strange that you can’t remember anything,” Ienzo continues. “Xemnas shared many, many similarities with Xehanort, so it really wasn’t your mind that directed him. You cannot command powers of nothingness, then?”

Terra’s eyes widen. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

In Ienzo’s hand, a dark leather tome form out of thin air. “I still remember how to do it. We all do. Keyblade wielders strictly perform with the dichotomy of light and dark. But nothingness is separate from that. It’s an energy that draws from a mental state that can be achieved through meditation. It comes simply by existing and not through any feeling, which is what light and dark need. It is ironic - Xemnas always told us that we didn’t exist. Initially, Nobodies cannot feel which is how we came about these powers.” Ienzo silently commands pages to fly around him, some doubling and others melting into one. “We can then amplify them with thoughts - and perhaps with emotions - once we learn to control them. You must understand, nothing is just nothing. It is up to us to define what that looks like. Xemnas for example was a gifted mage.”

“Those two words strewn together do not describe me at all.”

The pages and the tome disappear in smoke. “Well, I mention them to be useful. Powers of nothingness should have no effect to your heart or mind, which I’m sure are under some strain.”

That’s an understatement.

Leon approaches them. “Sorry to break up your get-together, but Terra, you have a package to deliver.”

“Y-Yes, I’m almost done with that.” Ienzo moves to put more potions in the box along with a booklet of notes. He doesn’t meet Leon’s gaze at all. Among the mostly green potions in the smaller box, he puts in two bright purple ones.

Ienzo gestures to Terra, pointing to the purple potions. “These two are incredibly rare. Xehanort invented them. They are designed to numb the heart, actually, and these are the very last that we have. Do be careful with them, since the recipients have requested these specifically.”

Terra’s mouth drops open. “Why would anyone ask for these?”

“Because they make it harder for Heartless to detect you,” Leon says. “Because they make turning into one hurt less. And because it has been approved to send them over.”

Terra nods once, remembering that Cloud has stated that the people leading Traverse Town are ones to be trusted.

After closing the smaller one, Ienzo starts to lock the larger one. “Inside this one are a number of books and electric bombs. They will not go off without being prepared first, but do be careful and don’t shake them.”

Ienzo then gathers his notes into his arms and firmly shakes Terra’s hand before leaving. “Until next time, Terra.”

With him gone, Leon pulls out a sizeable bag filled with 2,000 munny - the payment for the delivery.

“He seems a bit nervous around you,” Terra says as he accepts the bag.

“Ansem’s apprentices and the military are not exactly on good terms.” Leon leans on one leg. “They’re still loyal to the old man, and there are some people who are apprehensive about the possibility of him coming back to Radiant Garden. They don’t want him to lead again, since they blame him for the catastrophe. Truth be told, there are some people who don’t like the idea of the military leading either, even though we are the ones restoring the city.”

“Where is he now?”

“No one knows.” Leon stacks the boxes, and taps them. “Anyway, don’t worry about us. You’re needed somewhere else.” He pulls out another card, with handwritten notes. “These are the people that the delivery is for.”

It is difficult to read these complicated names, made harder due to Leon’s illegible handwriting.

“If you can’t find them, look for a guy named Cid. He’s one of our own, actually. We sent him to help them out. They are all stationed at the hotel there.”

It is a lie if Terra isn’t grateful that Cid is a name he can remember. “Will do.”

Leon reaches out for a handshake. “Don’t be a stranger.”

If there is anything that gives more spectacular sights than the Land of Departure, it’s Traverse Town.

The sun is starting to set, casting multitudes of shadows across the cobblestones that make the streets. The architecture is highly stylized and picturesque, almost like it comes straight off a book he read when he was younger. The town is a stop for all sorts of travelers - incredibly tall people, anthropomorphic people, extremely short people, and Moogles. It’s probably why no one really pays any attention to him, floating on his glider with these two wooden packages strapped behind him.

It’s not the easiest to get anyone’s attention, either. Everyone seems to be in a rush, and will either deny his request for information or outright ignore him. Eventually he gets directions to the hotel. It’s up in the second district, which is more modern but no less impressive, with an endless stream of tourist shops, a fountain, and a tall clocktower. The hotel stands tall and wide, and a worker there gives him a trolley.

The inside of the hotel should be fancy by normal standards, but it’s a mess. The lounge area is filled with desks covered in papers. Terra passes by an open room which should have been reception but they use it to store the weapons. He is told that past that hallway is the restaurant, which feeds those who work and live here.

He is directed to a back room, where a man sits in front of several computer monitors, right by another door off to the side that is closed.

The man is older, and fumbles with a toothpick in his mouth. “You the new Keyblade wielder? Terra, am I right?” His voice is gruff, his attitude absolutely matching the lack of patience heard from his mouth.

“Yes, sir. I’m looking for Cid.” He keeps his hands on the trolley.

“You’re looking at him.” He glances at the packages but doesn’t ask any questions. “I guess I should say ‘Welcome to Traverse Town.’ It’s a place where most people can flick their fingers and create magic tricks. I’m sure you heard we’re in a rough spot. There’s not that many fighters here, it’s mostly just women.”

It’s an awful thing to say and Terra is about to snark back but quickly shuts it. “I’ve met a lot of strong women.”

Cid doesn’t have the time to reply. As if on cue, young woman opens the door behind them, and by all accounts she’s stunning. Dressed in an orange jumpsuit, with white, flowing bell sleeves and a large crystal around her neck, she’s the epitome of femininity. Her hair is long and ebony and drags as she walks. She’s short, shorter than Ventus, but she walks gracefully and has an air about her that screams regality, as though her height means nothing.

“A newcomer?” Her smile is warm, her accent posh.

“My name is Terra.”

She gasps with glee, and runs up to the packages and starts to open them. Her smile widens and she silently laughs, like she has been given life-saving medicine.

“Um, those packages are actually for...” Terra pulls out the card with the names.

“Give that here.” She motions with her fingers and reads off the card. “Ah, I’m on here. My name is Garnet.” She folds one arm under her bust and bends over with the other arm extended, as if she is bowing for a grand ball. “You can say I am the second-in-command. All the inhabitants here think of me so.”

She looks back down on the card and addresses Cid. “Speaking of commanders, where is Noctis?”

“His royal heinie is sleeping in the next room. Where else would he be?”

Cid returns to work on his computer, complaining about all things Noctis. How Noctis doesn’t listen to his advice. How Noctis is too quick to lunge himself at Heartless when he should be busy looking after his people. How Noctis is too young for this kind of job, among a longer list of other things. Garnet turns to Terra with an expression that mimics laughter while pointing her thumb at Cid, as if to say can you believe this guy?

The door that is closed slams open. There stands a young man with spiky black hair, some of it lazily covering his face. He dresses completely in all black, some of it adorned in leather, very cool and very casual, as though he wants to make a statement based on what he wears. He is undeniably annoyed, his eyes half-lidded.

“Cid,” he says, “you’re loud.”

Garnet spins to face him, her hair swaying around. “Noctis, this is Terra, the new Keyblade wielder.”

Noctis smacks his lips several times before shaking Terra’s hand, a welcoming but timid smile on his face. Not unlike Terra at all.

“Welcome.” His voice is raspy, but it’s hard to tell if that’s normal for him or if it’s because he’s still waking up. “You’ve made our lives easier, and we’re all grateful for you Keyblade wielders.”

“Glad to be of service.” Terra scratches the back of his head. “I’ve been hearing so much about the trouble here, but I actually don’t really know that much of what’s going on.”

“Let me take you up to the roof and brief you.” Noctis walks out the way Terra came in, Garnet following behind him.

He actually takes them outside, where he starts to go up the fire escape. “Every two nights, one particularly nasty Heartless attacks us. It comes an hour before midnight each time, and it only stays for ten minutes. Then it disappears and we rinse and repeat the night after next.”

This is surprising.

Monsters and beasts made of a deep, putrid darkness exist, which are usually ancient and they are known in legends. One in particular is the legend of Chernabog. These fiends tend to be ritualistic, much like the way this Heartless is being described, which means that this has the potential to be something that will continue to target and haunt people. It will continue to grow.

“Obviously, we haven’t been able to get rid of it,” Noctis says as they reach the top. He places his hands on his waist and scoffs with disgust. He wears his emotions so obviously that it gives Terra the impression that Noctis will always be easy to read. “The fact that it only stays around for ten minutes means that we never get it weak enough to destroy it. Sora, Riku, and Lea have fought it together and it didn’t make much of a difference, either.”

Garnet leans on the railing, a loving smile on her face as she looks down on the people in the streets far below. Then she gets serious. “I don’t know what horrid person that thing came from. But the number of deaths and missing each of those nights is daunting.”

She turns to face Terra and smiles. He isn’t confident enough to tell if it’s forced. “We call it Kefka.”

“Well, I’m here to help,” Terra says, and she returns with a solemn smile before facing the streets again. Noctis nods and pats Terra’s shoulder once.

The clock tower rings. It is six in the evening. But it’s the sound that catches Terra’s attention.

It’s an electric bell, and he’s heard this exact sound before as he watched Naminé sink into the water. There isn’t any way to describe this sense of just knowing it’s true. His stomach drops and his chest tightens as he stares at the clock tower, checking to make sure it is the same sound. Yes it is. Yes it is.

Does that mean Aqua is here?

#terraqua #kingdom hearts fanfiction #kh fanfic #terra #final fantasy crossover #tifa lockhart #aerith gainsborough #squall leonheart #ienzo #cid #garnet til alexandros #noctis lucis caelum #ahhhhhh we are finally in traverse town #OMG #i have spent months planning this #i'm so excited #and it's so crazy #my fic

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shcolordaily · 6 years

Note

How does one get such pretty coloring? And where do you get your hq vids? i’m starting on giffing (did my first few today!) and wondering how to get a nice coloring?

Hey there! Thank you so much - we all work really hard on our gifs and seeing positive feedback always brightens up my day!

Since we have three people, we all go through the giffing process in our own ways. Persy has already gone through her methods over here, so I’ll be explaining mine, if that’s okay? I do anything tagged with Ju!

For HQ videos, I know some tumblr users are giving out download links to 1080p versions of the episodes. I personally got mine from @movealecsgay , who has a sideblog set up specifically for HD episode downloads. However, the sideblog is password locked and you’ll need permission to access it. I think there may be other people who have download links, such as @meliorn , but you’ll have to ask them off anon.

So for base colouring (i.e., lighting, skin tone balance), I usually start with some Curves and Levels adjustment layer. Then I play with Color Balance if the scene veers towards an extreme (i.e. too much green, too much yellow... etc). There are lots of tutorials on base colouring, so I’ll just move to our specific colour-intense style.

I personally have two different ‘styles’ of colouring: paletteing and isolation (these are terms I made up on the spot haha).

Paletteing is pretty much what Persy has described in her tutorial: it’s mostly just colouring over your gif with whatever colour you want, excluding the focus characters and then changing the layer style of the colour layer to hue or color, So the idea behind this would be taking a gif (with the base colouring already done) like:

and then adding a colouring layer on top.

My layers for this gif were:

You’ll notice I have a group of folders to the side, titled all, each with a layer mask on top. Magnus and Alec are cut out (i.e. the black spots). The hardest thing with palette type gifs are choosing scenes where they don’t move a lot - otherwise, you’ll end up with awkward uncoloured spots, the result of which look like:

You can see Magnus’ head move out of the colour and the pink spill onto Alec’s neck and ear. Not very pleasant, hence why scene choice is especially important for paletting. That, or you end up spending an extra hour going frame by frame to find where the characters move and making a new layer for each move. But the results are really satisfying!

The other colouring method, Isolation (made up term), consists of taking whatever colours are in the scene already and bringing them out. In these cases, you want to find pictures with high contrasting colours already in the scene (i.e. scenes that have a strong blue background that doesn’t affect the characters themselves).

I recently did a set with Asmodeus, where the scene, without any editing, looked like:

You’ll notice that I did the exact opposite of what I just said, i.e. I found a scene that was incredibly yellow with little contrast the character. So creating the base colouring for this is a bit of a different process - you want to isolate the background (orange here) without affecting his skin (which is mostly yellow). Since isolation affects the tones already in the scene, it makes doing something like changing his skin to purple very easy to do.

Here, the background colour is approximately what I want. Since this gif doesn’t move much, I could actually do the same as paletting and use a black paintbrush on the layer mask to exclude what I want. For gifs that move more, this isn’t really a possibility.

Like all my gifs, I start with Curves, Layers and then a Selective Color layer which only darkens the black. Finally, I added a Color Balance to ease out some of the yellows (but not all)

So at this point, his skin is very intensely yellow and the background is orange. This is where Selective Color becomes really important; I usually take it and play with the Reds and Yellows

The result of which was:

You can see his skin is still very yellow in some parts and magenta in other places. The background is now a lot pinker. So there’s a difference between the background and the skin that’s been established.

So from now on, you can edit the background as Magenta and his skin and foreground as Yellow. What I did next was create two Hue/Saturation layers, one of which was for rebalancing the skin and one which was for the background.

But wait! Now his skin is looking kind of gray? And yellow? And there are purple splotches? Also, the purple isn’t as intense as I’d like and is still brown in some parts. So I’d still play with the colours more to balance out his skin tone and make the background more vibrant. Mostly, it’s playing around with Hue/Saturation layers and Selective Color layers. If you want, you can add some paletteing elements where you colour over some parts of the gif to give it a more even tone.

Once I hit this, I added another curve layer and played around until I was happy with the overall look, which ended up as

A lot of this style is playing around. Sometimes it doesn’t work out; You might have noticed this gif was titled ‘catdad6′; I went through 4 different scenes before I settled on what I wanted.

A lot of this kind of colouring style is just playing around. There are only three major steps that I do in my sets: Base lighting (where I brighten up the scenes and rebalance skin tones), Hue Colouring (where I either create a hue layer or I bring out/manipulate the existing colours) and then relighting (which is, again, readjusting lighting).

Otherwise, just go crazy and have fun!

I hope this was helpful and feel free to message us if you have more questions (in case you want more screenshots or you want more details or something specified better).

#answered #asks #enkelimagnus #tutorial

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jenhedgehog · 7 years

Text

A New Addition To The Family - A Lapidot Fanfic

Chapter Six – Go Together Like A Horse And Carriage

"Lapis Lazuli, will you marry me?"

Time seemed to stand still for the Ocean Gem as her girlfriend's words echoed inside her head. She looked down at the technician, whose teal blush was becoming more and more prominent with each passing second. For a moment, Lapis felt like she was dreaming. Her mouth betrayed her as she tried to formulate her answer - but could only muster a stutter. After a few seconds, which felt like a lifetime, the blue Gem came back down to earth.

"Yes," she replied, the moonlight shimmering against the tears that were now forming in the corners of her eyes, "Of course I will, Peridot! I... I love you, too... you're my whole world..."

"W-wow..." Peridot stammered in reply, her emotions beginning to get the better of her. With a shaking hand, she slipped the gold ring out of its box and slid it onto Lapis's finger as the blue Gem watched her. Peridot smiled - it was a perfect fit. A tiny white jewel was set in the top of the ring, catching the light beautifully as Lapis moved her hand to admire it.

"That's some sort of non-sentient earth rock," Peridot quickly pointed out, "It's quite common for humans to use these as decorations."

"It's beautiful, Peridot..." Lapis whispered in awe, "Thank you..."

"No, thank you, Lapis," Peridot piped up, "Thank you for accepting my proposal!"

Lapis snorted with laughter as she pulled the small Gem into a gentle hug, tears of absolute joy running down both of their faces.

They sat in a hug which lasted for the rest of the evening, while the two newly-engaged fiancées quietly watched the stars together.

---

The next morning, Peridot received a frantic call on her tablet.

“Well?! What did she say?!”

The green Gem grinned at the faces who were looking intently back at her from the screen – the Crystal Gems were all waiting with bated breath for the technician’s response.

“She said yes!” cried Peridot, as the tablet’s speakers erupted with the cheering and hollering of the other Gems - Steven and Amethyst in particular.

“Oh woooow!! Congratulations!” Steven yelled excitedly as Amethyst stood next to him, cheering at the top of her voice.

“Wait... you all knew about this?!” Lapis enquired as she walked to stand behind Peridot, staring at the screen in disbelief.

“Of course we did!” Amethyst announced proudly, “I helped out quite a lot, y’know. Dot couldn’t possibly have done all that by herself...”

“Congratulations, both of you!” Pearl called delightedly, whilst waving into the camera on Steven’s phone.

The ever-cool Garnet looked on with a grin and gave the happy couple a thumbs-up.

---

A few weeks passed since Lapis and Peridot’s engagement. After a conversation with Dr Maheswaran, Peridot had managed to adjust her limb enhancers such that they could act as a monitor for the Gemling ("Don't forget where I am if you need anything, though" the doctor had reassured them). This is something that was incredibly useful, even if Peridot was becoming slightly obsessed with it. In spite of everything, she was still worrying about Lapis and their Gemling. She put it down to a maternal instinct and tried not to dwell on it too much; but with Lapis’ bump seemingly getting larger by the day, pushing her worries to the side was becoming an incredibly difficult feat for the technician.

Peridot had been sat on the sofa since the early hours of the morning, carefully analysing the Gemling's data once more. All the signs were positive; and also pointed to Lapis now being rather close to giving birth, which is something that the pair of them were overjoyed (albeit slightly nervous) about. Lapis was sat outside at the table, enjoying the cool morning air, Pumpkin sitting somewhat protectively under the table next to her. The Ocean Gem was scrolling through her fiancée’s tablet, looking at ideas for the wedding.

After a short while, Peridot stood up to go and check on the Ocean Gem - and let out a small squeak of surprise as the nearby warp pad activated. She glanced over to see who was there...

"Yo, Double-L!" came a very familiar voice. It was Amethyst – and she had both Steven and Pearl in tow. Peridot walked over to greet the other Gems as they sat themselves down at the table with Lapis. Grinning wildly, Amethyst placed a large bag of donuts in front of Lapis.

"Here we go, girl - a dozen donuts, as promised.”

"Amethyst! You can't keep giving donuts to Lapis, they have no nutritional benefits..." Pearl scolded the purple quartz.

"Relax, P! It's all good...” Amethyst looked over to Peridot and Lapis for some reassurance, “Right?”

“Yes, I believe so,” Peridot answered matter-of-factly, her eyes glued to the screen on her limb enhancers, “The statistics that I have here all point towards the Gemling being perfectly healthy. Besides, it’s far from the strangest thing that Lapis has decided to eat recently...”

Amethyst’s eyes lit up instantly.

“Oooh?” she grinned at Lapis as she leaned towards the blue Gem, eager to hear what unusual foods she’d been sampling.

“Um...” the Ocean Gem blushed slightly, “I had a slight craving for hay... and there’s plenty of it in the barn...”

Amethyst burst into a fit of laughter; Steven was covering his face and trying not to join in.

“Oh my...” Pearl gasped, making Amethyst laugh even harder. Peridot looked over at Lapis, who seemed slightly crestfallen.

“C’mon Laz, it is pretty funny! You were laughing about it yourself yesterday...” a concerned Peridot said.

“Yeah, you’re right...” the Ocean Gem replied with a weak chuckle, “Sorry, I’m just feeling a bit out of sorts at the moment...”

“Oh my stars, are you ok?!” Peridot exclaimed as she jumped out of her seat and ran over to her fiancée.

“I’m fine, it’s just... everything aches,” Lapis replied with a slight groan as she tried to straighten her back out. The size of her stomach was making everything rather difficult – as well as uncomfortable – for her now.

“Just... take it easy,” Peridot said soothingly as she grabbed her chair and pulled it up right next to Lapis, carefully placing her arm over the blue Gem’s shoulder.

"So, what brings you all here?" Lapis asked, attempting to change the subject.

"We just wanted to see how the two lovebirds were getting on," Amethyst answered with a wry smile, "Still wedding planning, huh?"

"Yeah. I want to wait until after the Gemling is born before we actually have the wedding , though," explained Lapis, "It's going to be too much to prepare for otherwise... and I can’t exactly move very well at the moment, either."

“That seems very sensible," Pearl said as she nodded in agreement.

"I agree-" Peridot's sentence was cut off by a familiar zing and flash of bright light - as Garnet appeared on the warp pad, accompanied by Greg. The others couldn’t help but notice that the tall Gem was carrying something large in her arms...

"Surprise!" she called with a grin as Peridot and Lapis stared on in awe.

It was a beautiful baby crib, which had been painted in a pale blue. Inside lay some pretty green blankets, while a mobile full of stars and moons dangled over the top.

“I wanted to bring it here myself,” said Greg, “But I couldn’t get the darned van to start up this morning. So, Garnet offered to help me bring this to you instead.”

“Wow, Dad, did you buy this?!” Steven asked, staring at the crib with starry-eyes.

“Sure did, kiddo!” Greg replied, looking quite bashful.

“Greg, this is beautiful...” breathed Lapis as she inspected the crib, “Thanks so much!”

“Yes! Thank you, Greg! This is perfect,” Peridot piped up, running a hand across the crib’s meticulously-decorated wooden frame; upon closer inspection, it was engraved with a pattern that looked like the waves of the ocean.

“Aw, it was nothing!” a blushing Greg said, “I’m just glad you both like it!”

“Let me take it into the barn for you,” Garnet said as she hoisted the crib over her shoulder. She paused as Pumpkin ran out from under the table and excitedly began yapping at her feet.

“Oh, we didn’t forget about you, Pumpkin...” Garnet told her with a kind smile. She lowered the crib again, allowing Greg to reach inside it – and pull out what appeared to be a fluffy, orange pet bed. It, too, was full of new blankets and pillows.

“Awwww!” cried Steven, “A little bed for Pumpkin, too!”

Peridot and Lapis beamed, and the small veggie got even more excitable than she was before. The two Gems couldn’t thank Greg enough for these kind gifts. Hand-in-hand, the couple took a slow walk to the barn behind Garnet, with Pumpkin weaving her way in and out of everyone’s feet as they went. Peridot and Lapis gazed at each other and smiled – a look of pure love written clearly across both of their faces. They glanced back to the table, where Amethyst was joking with Steven as Pearl looked on bemusedly. Everything about this day was perfect.

This is a life – and, indeed, an extended family unit – that neither Peridot nor Lapis would swap for anything.

Lapis stopped walking and gasped as she put a hand to her stomach; she could feel something moving. Peridot stopped too, and placed one of her hands onto her fiancée’s bump. With a laugh, the pair of them realised what it was - they could feel their daughter kicking. Peridot knelt down next to Lapis and gently kissed the baby bump.

“It won’t be long now...” she murmured.

Peridot and Lapis both felt something else in this most perfect of moments. An acute awareness that their lives would soon be changed forever...

#lapidot #peridot #lapis lazuli #steven universe #gemlings #gemling au #lapidot fanfiction #a new addition to the family #jenhedgehog writes

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mangled-dreams · 7 years

Text

Promising Sun: Part 1

A new series I’m working on. Please as it progresses, let me know if you enjoyed it or not. Thank you.

AntiXReader, DarkXReader,

It’s not often light penetrates your world. You’re blind, so it makes sense you can’t see light. However, even as you can see the physical world you have a second sight.

You see “souls” or rather aura. You brush your hair from your ears, a natural habit. You put on your rose colors glasses to protect your eyes from the sun and you’re ready to go.

You’d long since stopped informing people about your second sight. A lot of people don’t believe you and others try to use you for their own gain. It’s taken a few learning opportunities to narrow down colors and feelings to trust, but you’re wiser now. More informed about the people around you.

“Mr. Apple, I’m leaving. Be a good kitty while I’m gone.” You call unlocking your front door and slip out. Thankfully Mr. Apple is a good cat and doesn’t feel the need to escape your apartment.

“Morning, Rose.” Wilma Vonger greets as you pass by her door. You smile and give a small wave, telling her the same in response. Wilma loves to call you Rose because of the color of your glasses.

You don't mind it. It's better than some of the other nicknames you've gotten over the years. "Good morning, Ms. Vonger. How are your camellias?" You ask pausing to exchange pleasantries. You like Wilma. She's nice and has a very strong, bright, happy purple aura. Bright colored aura no matter the color are good. The darker the color the darker a person's personality, or true self is.

"Oh, they're doing excellent. Thank you for the suggestion." Wilma says happily. It had been your suggestion to grow the camellias, your mother is a florist and had been the one to suggest it to you.

Nodding you tell Wilma you have to get going and bid her goodbye. There isn't a whole lot you can talk with Wilma about, despite liking her. She loves to discuss her flowers and you just... you can't see. You relay information and suggestions from your mother, but side from smelling flowers you have very little interest in them.

"Hey! Rose, going out today?" Mr. Bridgewater asks. You nod your head. Jeffery, or rather Jay, is nice enough, but his colors are dark and you avoid being alone with him. He's never do anything to prove your hesitancy towards him, but best not to tempt fate.

"Yes, Jay, I'll be out for a few. Have a good day." you tell him stepping off the last stair.

You'd learned long ago how to navigate your world without a cane. Instead using echo location and your second sight to help you avoid accident and such. A stranger with a bright orange aura holds the door leading into the mall for you and you thank them softly, entering the building, turning left to the elevator.

You push the call button and wait in silence for the doors to open. Without warning a man appears to your left, his color a dark green that jumps with brilliant lime green colors. You've never seen anything so beautiful and amazing. You want to look at him head on to study his odd yet mesmerizing aura, but you refrain from doing so. Your mother taught you better manner than that.

It's not just the color of his aura that leads you to believe it is a male next to you rather than a female. It's the way his aura settles around him. It swirls around his shoulders and chest, expressing power and confidence. Now, you've seen plenty of women who also share the same characteristics, however with males it seems to swell more in the chest as they associate their power with muscle. Whether they believe they do or not. Women generally value their intelligence.

Now, this is not true for everyone, but just something you'd noticed over the years of being without sight. You try not to lump everyone into the same boat, but it helps to cope with your limited sight. You decided to engage the man, to solidify your assumption.

"Are you going up?" You ask turning enough for the person to know you're talking to him.

"Down." he says. You hear a thick Irish accent in his high pitched tone of voice and nod. You'd been proven correct in your assumption.

You reach forward and touch the call down button as well before resuming your original position. You can feel the man's gaze on you as you shift your weight every now and again. For some reason the elevator is taking a long time to reach your floor.

Frowning you touch the call button and step back.

"How did you know I was here?" the Irishman asks rather gruffly. You don't turn towards him. You debate lying to him but see no point in it.

"I saw your aura. It's very unique." you tell him adjusting your sliding glasses. Within seconds of your explanation the man disappears. You spin around, it's not often someone surprises you, but this... it's just not possible.

When you arrive at your mother's florist shop you'd forgotten about the weird green aura man and his disappearing act. There is little you can actually do for your mother at her shop, other than water the flowers, but she still likes to have you around. It helps with your day to day bills.

“Thank you for coming by.” Your mother practically sings as the over head bell rings in the otherwise silent room. “Sweetheart, are you still sulking?” Your mother asks out of the blue. You've been watching her busy herself around the shop, rearranging her bouquets. You like your mom's aura. Blues and purples swirling together to make her form. There are darker tones that mix in, but nothing that causes high alarm to you.

“I'm not sulking, mom. I'm deep in thought.” You tell her sitting up a little behind the desk. You'd been wondering if your mother had aged as well as your imagined. You'd been nearly twelve when you'd lost your sight. The memories of your childhood, your parents, colors... you keep them dear to your heart.

“What are you thinking about?” Your mom asks you.

You turn your head away from her, outside the windows of the shop you can see auras of people passing by. You wish for nothing more than to see them again. Beautiful, ugly, odd, deformed, perfect, you don't care. If only you could see again.

“Just thinking about what it would be like to see again.” You respond candidly. You already know your mom wished the same. Her blue hues turning dull. Colors that dull, or drain away usually means remorse or regret. You give your mom a half hearted smile.

“Sweetie...” your mother whispers softly.

“It's okay. Short of a miracle or an expensive eye transplant I'm stuck with my limited sight.” You say forcing a short laugh. You'd love to have your sight back, but taking someones eyes doesn't sit well with you. You liked your eyes. You don't have any clue what they look like now, but they're still yours. “I've come to terms with it mom, a long time ago. So, it's fine.” You add lying ever so slightly.

“Swee...”

The bell rings and you both turn to view your customers. You hadn't noticed them approaching the shop, but you are completely sure the green aura man is the same one from the elevator. You smile at him.

“The guy from the elevator!” You shout oddly feeling at peace with the man and his friend. His friend has a similar aura. Reds and pinks of various hues swirling in varying degrees of light and dark shades. They both appear to be warring within themselves, but you don't feel threatened by either of them. At least not currently. You can see they have the ability to become quite violent and merciless if they choose.

“I thought that was you.” The green aura man says. “Do you work here?” You nod at his question.

“Oh, well isn't this exciting.” Your mother says smiling gleefully from you to the strangers and back again. “Did you come searching for my little Sunflower?” she asks walking to your side. You can already see the hope blossoming in her aura. She's hoping you'll finally find a boyfriend. She worries about you being alone, and while it's endearing—in a way, it's also a bit annoying.

“Ma, please. Be briefly met for like two minutes.” You tell her, your pitch rising just a little. It happens when you're embarrassed. Which, when your mother is involved is generally all the time. “I doubt he tracked me down.” You add turning your head to view the two. “I'm sorry, my mom is a bit...eccentric.” You apologize. You can visually watch the pair shift slightly to look at each other.

“Actually, my friend and I have been looking for you.” Your expression changes at the voice of the red and pink aura man. You've heard that voice before. Actually, now that you really think about it, you know both their voices.

Your brows knit together as you hesitantly ask, “a—are you Mark Fischbach and Sean McLouglin?”

The pair look at each other again. “Y-yes.” The red aura man answers. You can't help your mouth from dropping open a little. You weren't actually expecting that answer.

“Oh, wow....I—ah...I was not expecting that. I don't watch a lot of Youtube, but I've heard your voice before...briefly...” You say feeling a little foolish. You've listened to Mark's videos before. You like the videos where Mark has to talk in the deeper register. His deeper tones soothing too you.

“Oh, well that makes sense.” Mark responds.

Your mother quickly pipes in, “she also blind.” You closer your eyes against your mother's less than tactful way of stating your disability.

“Thanks, mom.” You mutter taking your glasses off and pinch the bridge of your nose before setting them down. You're use to wearing the glasses, but sometimes—when you get a new pair, they tend to give you a bit of a headache. “Yes, that would be another reason I did not recognize you. I am, indeed, blind.” You say opening your eyes. It's not for add effect, simply a habit you have. You still blink and your eyes shift, completely function like they used too, simply you cannot see.

“Oh, well, that makes more sense.” Sean responds. You wonder if this is really the man from earlier. The aura is the same but...his tone...his attitude is off. Up until a few seconds ago he felt a little on edge, now he's... relaxed...

“If you're blind, how did you recognize Sean?” Mark asks sounding genuinely baffled.

“Ah...well, it...”

“Do you have a super sense of smell?” Sean asks. You shake your head.

“No, I told you before. Your aura is very unique. I haven't seen anything like it before. You both have such...amazing auras. They're quite beautiful to watch.” You say losing yourself in the colors and motion. It's soothing and puts you into a state of almost complete complacency.

Sean and Mark exchange looks and you see the shift in their auras. Just a quick flicker of light and dark...You hope you look neutral but you have a doubts about it.

“That's actually quite amazing...” Mark says sounding authentically interested in your explanation. “We're out shopping today, can we...perhaps treat you to lunch?”

You hesitate, unsure if you should trust his offer at face value...

“Sure, why not?”

“I'm working right now. Maybe some other time?”

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alishbakhanus · 4 years

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Tips’ to choose the wedding colors

After deciding the date of the big day, it is time to start with all the preparations, taking care of even the smallest detail so that everything goes perfectly and you have the wedding you have always dreamed of. For example, choosing the place of the ceremony and the banquet, preparing the wedding menu, compiling the wedding songs that you want to accompany the most magical moments of the day … Without forgetting, of course, the choice of palette chromatic link, an essential aspect so that all the elements are in harmony. And it is that the predominant color or colors in the wedding will be essential to achieve the desired setting, something that you should take into account both in the choice of wedding invitations and in the centerpieces of the banquet, the flowers who will dress the altar of the ceremony, that of the varieties that will shape the natural bridal bouquet, that of the crockery and that of the tie or bow tie, for example.

You don’t know which shades to choose? There are several key factors that can guide and help you so that the choice is as successful as possible and, above all, according to your personality, as well as the environment of the wedding scene and the feelings you seek to convey. Do you want to know what they are? Do not miss these tips to choose the colors of the wedding.

Look at the season and the time you are getting married

Each season of the year is generally linked to a particular color, so paying attention to the season of the link will give you a clue as to where you can start. For example, spring wedding colors include different shades of pink – such as salmon or bubblegum – yellow, green and blue – such as light blue or electric blue, for example – while among wedding colors for summer, both warm and vivid tones stand out, be it lilac in a pastel hue, passion red, vibrant colors –such as orange and fuchsia–, turquoise, yellow and, without a doubt, blue. On the contrary, winter wedding colors are more inclined to metallic, purple, red and green hues and, in a Fall wedding, burgundy, forest green, brown and orange are infallible. White deserves a special mention, the classic tone par excellence of the wedding scene, which is perfect in any season of the year.

In the same way, and as with the time of the wedding, you must take into account the time of day when you will say “yes, I do”, because it is not the same to exchange alliances during the day than to do it for afternoon or evening. And it is that not only will the natural light of the stage change, but also the aesthetics of the event and how the colors look. So we recommend that you choose bright tones for the central hours of the day and gray, gold, black and burgundy for the night.

Take into account the space of celebration

Knowing well what the venue is like will be ideal for defining the wedding color palette. What to look out for? In if it is interior or exterior; whether there is a garden, a mountain or a beach around; in itself it is a farmhouse, a castle or a factory, etc. The important thing is that the chosen tones harmonize with the environment and the surroundings and, if possible, that they generate a beautiful color contrast.

Get inspired by the Color of the Year according to the Pantone Color Institute

Year after year, the Pantone Color Institute determines the Color of the Year. What do you think, then, of resorting to it? It will be a perfect way to have a very modern wedding. Thus, among the 2020 wedding colors, Classic Blue has been a very recurring option and the opportunities to wear it are not short: in colored bridal shoes, in the centerpieces, in the save the date , in the packaging of the wedding details, on the wedding car ties, on the napkins, on the color smoke flames , on the wedding dress belt. So, whatever the star color of the season, you have a thousand and an options to be inspired by it and choose it as a base.

Don’t miss your favorite colors

When choosing the wedding colors it is important to remember that they must also be true to your personal tastes, since it would not make any sense that you were only guided by the trends of the moment without putting the exclusive touch that characterizes you.

The psychology of colors

Check what the psychology of the colors says about the ones you have chosen, since each one is associated with certain sensations and emotions. Thus, you can choose the one or those that best suit the message you want to convey. For example, black means elegance and classicism; red is associated with passion and sensuality; yellow denotes happiness and optimism, and white is associated with purity and simplicity. Are you already having clearer how to choose the color of the wedding?

Use the color wheel

Using the color wheel is a great (and very useful) way to see how cooler and warmer colors blend together, and to see which are closer together and which are further apart. From there you can create a mood board , a trend panel in which you can include the colors you have in mind to get an idea of how the result will be and see if it convinces you or not. Ideally, you should do as many tests as you need to ensure final success.

Color combinations: a must

If focusing everything on a single tone seems boring, you can do all kinds of combinations. The best known are analog, monochrome and contrast. The first is to create a palette using close colors on the color wheel. For example, blue, blue-violet and violet. The second is to use the same color, but in different shades. And the third tries to focus on the opposite or complementary colors. That is, in those very different from the color you have chosen. And if you have a certain color very clear, another option is to complete it with a neutral one to enhance its presence even more. Better impossible!

Of course, there is a very important basic rule: do not select more than three main colors. This is what the decorators ensure to maintain the aesthetics of the whole and that the environment is harmonious and relaxing in equal measure.

Matching the wedding style

The style of the link will largely determine the colors of the decorating ideas for a wedding. Thus, in vintage weddings, dusty and earthy colors will harmonize better; in rustic weddings, wood and leaf green tones; in shabby-chic weddings, aqua green, beige and pastel tones; and at tropical weddings, the intense variants and fluorides. Also remember that, if you plan a themed wedding, you must adjust the colors to the chosen theme. For example, if the common thread is the Disney movie The Little Mermaid, you cannot miss whites, turquoise and corals, and if it is The Great Gatsby, black, gold, pearl white, soft gray tones and rosés are essential.

Also the nature of the link has a lot to say. If you are a classic couple and yours will be a “yes, I want” formal and sophisticated, white and neutral tones have to be among the chosen ones. And if you consider yourself more carefree and want the wedding to be unconventional, the cheerful and striking tones, such as intense greens, glamorous reds and lemon yellows, will make you fall in love.

The flowers of the bridal bouquet, a key factor

If you are very lost, the flowers in the bouquet that the female protagonist of the day will wear can suggest ideas when choosing the colors of the wedding, since, beyond the floral varieties, surely the color has also influenced its choice. Another alternative is to think about your favorite flowers beforehand to know in what colors they are available and thus draw the ideal palette to fit them. Either way, the bridal bouquet is sure to turn heads on the big day!

Courtesy: best banquet halls in Lahore

#preweddingphotography weddingdecor weddingseason weddingplanner weddingphotographer weddings weddinginspiration weddingphotography wedding w

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verbumincarcerem · 7 years

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Invictus (NSFW)

Warning: Dub-con

“I don’t like this,” the rebel said. Her eyes were narrowed behind her mask, though none of the others could see. They didn’t have to. The strain in her voice was clear.

“We have our objective,” the blade in the co-pilot seat reminded her. “Hold steady on the trajectory.”

“We’ve been searching this sector for weeks and found nothing. Doesn’t anyone else think it’s a little too convenient that we get a little blip on the map after all this time and then nada?”

The rebel’s co-pilot was silent. So were the other two Blades of Marmora sitting pretty in the hold.

“We have to know,” a voice said from behind her. “Lotor could be here.”

“Knowledge or death,” a second voice responded. The others murmured agreement.

The rebel murmured something entirely different. “Death looks likely.” But she continued piloting her ship forward, intent on seeing the mission through. The blades were more than capable, she knew that, but she also preferred to work alone. Though when Princess Allura had asked her to smuggle the blades to their next mission point, the rebel found she couldn’t refuse. Allura never gave her the chance.

“The coalition is growing bit by bit every day,” the princess-turned-paladin had said. “If we want to keep this momentum going, then we have to present a unified front. All of us.”

The rebel thought about asking why she had to get with the program yet Keith didn’t, but Allura had taken her by the hands and spoke with the most entreating voice in her arsenal. No doubt taught to her by her late father to inspire the masses when it was her time to take the throne. “Please, Melody. I know we haven’t always agreed on tactics and your supply runs are important, but the blades need a covert ship for this mission and an even better pilot, one that’s cool under pressure. Lotor hasn’t been spotted in weeks, and finding him is a top priority. Please, will you help us?”

How could she refuse? Yet now, the rebel wished she had. A mission that was meant to be a stop and drop on her part had turned into a two-week-long, wild goose chase. Her ship had changed from feeling crowded to claustrophobic much sooner than today.

Tense silence followed, slowly loosening through the hour. Melody kept scanning the star map on her screen, matching it to the show of blackness and stars unfurled outside her cockpit. The Galran blades were a quiet yet formidable force at her back. They were nearing closer and closer to uncharted space, areas that not even the Galra Empire had yet to breach, and she wondered if the blades were as concerned by that fact as she was.

A blip sounded again from the ship’s computer, and the star map flashed a brief point of red before falling silent again.

“We’re being led,” the rebel stated unnecessarily.

Her co-pilot leaned forward, arms braced on powerful thighs. At last, he said, “Adjust course and get us there, smuggler. We’ll work on turning the prince’s plan against him.”

“There’s no guarantee that it’s him.” But the rebel said it only perfunctorily.

Her eyes flicked to the silver drone hovering in the corner, away from the blades. Shaped like a dodecahedron-icosahedron compound, the repurposed Galra drone had been oddly quiet on this trip, unused to the additional company. “What do you think, Bit?” she asked the drone.

The drone bobbed in the air, then suddenly morphed into the second stellation of an icosahedron, flashing red. “No,” it said in a high-pitched, synthesized voice before resuming its original shape and color.

“Are the blades crazy as ever?”

“Yes,” Bit said, flashing blue as it morphed into an octahedron.

“Will you be mad at me if I listen to them?”

“Yes.” Octahedron, flash of blue.

The rebel sighed but adjusted course. The blade next to her seemed to physically uncoil.

“No, no, no,” Bit said, bobbing and morphing more urgently than usual, clearly upset.

“Sorry, Bit.”

The drone fell quiet, silver and normal-shaped again. It pulled back and pressed itself into the wall, sulking.

Me too, buddy.

A few hours later, the rebel and the blades found what they had been looking for. “The hell is that?” Melody said, leaning forward in her chair. She turned to the star chart before quipping to the blades, “Any of y’all aware you’re missing a planet?”

A blade looked at the chart over her shoulder, seeing the blank spot on the map where the small, green planet in the viewport should be. “Someone’s been manipulating the charts.”

“Easy to do at outskirts like this,” the second blade quipped, coming up behind her, too. Melody felt crowded in, her view blocked completely of everything except what was in front of her. “That’s something we’ll need to—”

The blade suddenly let out a horrible sound—a sucked-in breath, an agonized groan—before collapsing. Melody jumped, twisting in her seat. The co-pilot was gone.

Because he was behind her, jerking his luxite sword out of one blade’s back before turning on the other. Melody drew her blaster, but she was too late to save the blade. The traitor moved too fast. As the last blade fell, hand clutching his slit throat, the traitor lunged for her. She fired a shot, but it went wild as her wrist was caught in a bruising grip and twisted. The blaster dropped from her limp fingers, and she cried out, heart pounding, as he pinned her against the console.

“Nononono.”

Bit flew forward to help her, unarmed, unable to fight back, intending to ram him anyway. The traitor brought his sword down in an almost lazy arc, cutting the poor drone almost in half. It fell to the floor in a burst of sparks, dead.

Melody felt it like a punch in her gut. I can fix it, she thought wildly while another voice said, Worry about yourself, idiot.

She thrust her palm up, connecting under the traitor’s jaw and snapping his head back. A foot connected with his inner thigh—shit, trajectory off—but he barely stumbled back, the grip on her wrist secure. He twisted it further back, and Melody’s body followed to avoid the break.

Then her head was between his hands, and she thought, This is it. But he didn’t snap her neck. Instead, he slammed her head into the console, and she collided impossibly hard, impossibly fast. Pain and pressure exploded behind her eyes, across her hairline, and everything slowed down, her vision turning foggy.

Her body slumped to the floor. She had no control. Her attacker stepped back and watched her black out.

“This should be enough,” he said to himself. “Vrepit sa.”

She hadn’t known any of their names or faces. Hadn’t bothered to ask.

This is why I work alone.

And now she was truly alone, without her drone, without backup, on a planet she and no one else allied with her knew existed.

Coming to in a Galran prison cell.

Her head rolled on her shoulders as she tried to sit up straight against the wall she’d been so kindly deposited against. Her shoulders burned, and she groaned as they prickled with feeling, blood rushing to them again. Her hands bound behind her back looked to be the culprits.

She tensed as a Galra spoke, a guard at his post, but she didn’t know what he mumbled.

But she could guess.

The prisoner’s awake.

Another responded. Bring her.

Her cell door opened. A large Galran hand wrapped around her arm, and onward, she was dragged along. Past other cells, most curiously empty, and that worried her. Either few were captured or sent here from other prisons, or worse, they were captured but quickly eliminated.

The corridors were dark, open maws of shadow and dim purple light. When she was led outside the prison compound, the light blinded her even through her mask, sending newfound pain coursing through her skull. She stumbled at the pace the guard set, heard laughter from Galran soldiers scattered around, each one tending to some business or other.

They can all mind their fucking own.

Melody thought briefly about going limp, lashing out, running free but quickly quashed the notion. She wouldn’t get far, not like this, and where would she go? Where was her ship? Where was one she could steal that wouldn’t be manned or heavily guarded?

They entered another facility, this one with higher ceilings and grander halls but still so utilitarian. Until they reached the inner sanctum. There, the militaristic style faded, becoming more lavish. Tapestries from conquered alien cultures adorned the walls, and the floor was polished stone, not steel, inlaid with Galran designs.

No, not Galran. Altean.

At the end of the hall was a series of steps before an elevated throne. It was vacant, but kneeling before it was the Blade of Marmora, the traitor.

Melody jerked herself out of the guard’s grip before ramming herself into his side. He stumbled to a knee, and she jumped, tucking her knees as close to her chest as possible and bringing her bound arms under and over. Hands in front of her now, she darted away from the guard, sprinting full tilt toward the blade. He turned, but she tackled him to the ground, hands hitting every part of him that she could reach like she was wielding a sledgehammer.

All too soon, the guard hoisted her off of him with an arm around her neck. The ex-blade’s mask retracted, revealing a bleeding cheek and cut lip. Her restraints had done the real damage. His dagger transformed into a sword as he advanced. “Hold her, and I’ll—”

A laugh, light yet deep, cut him off and made them all freeze in place.

The guard turned toward the entrance, and Melody had to follow, clawing his arm to no avail. “Prince Lotor,” he said, and all three of them fell to a respectful kneel—though in Melody’s case, she was pushed to her knees, legs kicked out from under her and head forced to look down at the floor. “Forgive me this spectacle. The girl’s a slippery one.”

“Then I suggest you tighten your grip, Laxos.”

The prince’s boots did not make much noise crossing to them, his steps muffled in favor of stealth over power. Melody tensed, but he strolled past her and the guard. “Well, well, Commander Tarrok. How long has it been?”

“My prince, I’m happy to be—”

“—since you defected?” Lotor continued, voice perceptively cooler.

Tarrok faltered. “I killed two traitors and have brought you information about the Blades of Marmora, your highness. General Ezor seemed pleased with my initial report. And this girl, she has direct dealings with the paladins of—”

“And I’m supposed to welcome you back with open arms, is that it?”

Melody risked a glance up at Lotor, only for Laxos to force her head down again. She gritted her teeth but contented herself with just listening. She was used to the Galras’ more guttural tones, but the prince’s voice was smooth and sweet, cultured like Allura’s. Dangerous the way the princess’ wasn’t. Her guard was instantly up, her frame rigid as the confrontation continued.

“You betrayed us for the blades under my father’s reign,” Lotor continued, “and now that he is on his deathbed, you betray your old friends in the hopes of earning my favor. Do you know what that tells me, Tarrok?”

A flash of light glinted against a Galran blade. Melody could see the sword in Lotor’s hand if she strained her neck against the hand holding her in place.

“It tells me you’ll bite whatever hand that feeds you. You’re no better than a rabid animal.”

Lotor lunged, and sword clashed against sword, the clamor ringing clearly through the room. Laxos’ hand left Melody, the guard rising to defend his prince, but there was no need. The ex-blade was a fast and formidable opponent, but Lotor was quicker. In seconds and with fluid grace, he rid Tarrok’s head from his shoulders, the body falling with the luxite blade still clutched tightly in Tarrok’s hand.

Three more guards rushed from the perimeters of the room. Lotor sheathed his sword. “Clean this up,” he ordered before turning toward the last remaining rebel. “What did I tell you about that grip of yours?”

Laxos remembered himself, but before he could hold her down again, Lotor raised a hand. “Take off her mask.”

As she felt the cloth and synthetic mask behind torn away, exposing her face, Melody no longer wanted to look at the prince. Relying on her curtain of dark hair as a shield, she kept her head bowed, eyes locked on the Altaen symbol on the tile directly in front of her.

“So you know the paladins of Voltron, do you?” Lotor sounded amused now. His boots entered her field of vision, but her gaze did not waver, seeing yet not seeing. “I know you understand me. Now isn’t the time to be holding your tongue.”

When Melody refused to speak again, she felt something cold and sharp under her skin, and she flinched at the sudden sting. Slowly, her head rose, guided up by Lotor’s sword until her gaze met his.

Lotor was handsome and cruel in a way that most Galra were not, their features more animalistic, their appeal found in brutal strength and stature. Lotor possessed few of these traits, his skin purple like the Galra, but his ears pointed like… An Altaen’s, Melody realized. In fact, everything from his refined features to the waves of white hair flowing down his back screamed Altaen, though he lacked any markings—but now all the Altaen symbols around made a little more sense. Had Allura and the rest of Team Voltron known? And hadn’t shared with the class? Even Lotor’s eyes weren’t the usual glowing, Galra yellow, but rather distinct irises of blue like her own, surrounded by yellow sclera instead of white. They were sharp, and they were also the primary reason Melody’s blood chilled in her veins.

Because when Lotor saw her face, they widened in surprise and, worst of all, recognition.

“It’s you,” said Lotor, wonder in his face and voice. Then it was gone, replaced by a victorious, predatory grin, his canines sharp and gleaming white. “The one with the pretty eyes.”

His sword pressed closer, causing Melody to strain her body higher to avoid being cut, but Lotor smoothly pulled it away and sheathed it again. “Change of plans,” the prince announced. “Get her cleaned up and on my ship. I leave in an hour.”

Laxos pulled her to her feet, but Melody was numb, her eyes on Lotor’s departing back. She didn’t know the Galran prince, but he seemed to know her, and the thought was terrifying.

That bastard must have hit my head harder than I realized. An empty reassurance. Her mild concussion didn’t explain what she saw, what she’d heard Lotor say. It’s you.

The one with the pretty eyes.

And it didn’t relieve the dread when Laxos passed her off to three new guards—all female—who swiftly led her away.

Being bathed by strangers was humiliating enough, but tack on being bathed by the enemy while shackled, and the experience was almost intolerable.

Not caring about the silky feel of the water or its flowery aroma, Melody thrashed in the tub, kicking out at the nearest guard and connecting with her chest. Breath whooshed past the Galra’s lungs, and she stumbled back before growling at Melody.

But it was another that held a knife to Melody’s throat. “Do that again, and we’ll bathe you in blood instead.”

“Kill me,” Melody said, “and the prince will kill you.”

“The prince would understand.”

With the rebel’s bluff-calling failing in the face of the soldiers’ surety, the only choice left to Melody was to let them complete their task. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, her skin scrubbed and shaved and her hair jerked this way and that. All the while, the soldier’s blade was never far, an unsettling reminder and motivator to behave.

Despite her skin feeling smoother and softer than it had in a long time, Melody’s head throbbed with renewed pain, the scented steam in the room worsening her condition instead of improving it. One of the guards tended to the cut on her forehead and, before Melody realized what was happening, plunged a syringe-like object in her neck.

Her hand snapped up to her neck, but the guard had already pulled away, the barrel empty. “What was that? What the hell did you just do?” As she spoke, she felt the pain fade away to nothing, and a touch along her hairline found no trace of Tarrok’s injury.

“Quintessence,” the soldier with the blade supplied. She smiled conspiratorially to the others. “You should thank us. You’re going to need it.”

The other two laughed, the sound more cruel than amused. One kicked Melody’s discarded clothes to the side, mouth curling in disgust. “Let’s get this over with. His highness’ tastes aside, I’m tired of looking at this alien.”

“I’m tired of listening to her,” said the one she’d kicked earlier. She bared her teeth, and Melody fought to not bare hers back.

The process grew more alarming from there, and not just because she was nearing having to face the prince again. The guards roughly massaged oils into her skin before painting foreign symbols in flecks of gold on her shoulders and down her arms. They then dried and curled her hair using a contraption she didn’t want to know the name of. A brief argument ensued about whether they should pin up her hair or not, but in the end, they left it down. Hands raked through the curls to loosen them around her neck and shoulders while strings of gold were woven between the strands and along the crown of her head. They even attended to her nails and cuticles, though no one brought out any nail polish, thank the stars. If they had, Melody was sure she would have cracked and doubled-over laughing in hysteria.

At last, they draped a white dress over her, the front exposing her legs up to her mid-thigh, the back trailing to her calves. A gold belt was cinched around her waist along with matching heels that laced to her knees, more fashion than function. The final touch was a shoulder guard strapped to her left arm, leaving her right side bare save for the paint, again more ceremonial than practical.

“You guys going for a Greek theme?” she wisecracked, knowing full well they’d have no idea what she was talking about, but it made her feel better. Melody winced as a hand pulled the strap of the shoulder guard even tighter, a clear warning to shut up.

Without another word, they paraded her to Lotor’s ship.

Melody blinked, expecting a Galran battleship. What she saw in its place was a cruiser, sleeker, without the sharp edges most Galran ships were known for, and much larger than Allura’s castle. But she knew it was Lotor’s; the ship featured the same colors as his military uniform: gray, blue, a muted purple, the Galra symbol at the bridge the only splash of orange.

Melody spotted that same military uniform and color scheme on two soldiers chatting outside the ship’s boarding ramp and was taken aback. Like their prince, they were Galra and yet not. One was tall and hulking, her features the most Galra-like, but something was still off. As she got closer, Melody distinguished that it wasn’t so much the pink fur on her ears and face but rather her large, orange eyes. The other was on the exact opposite of the spectrum, barely any Galran traits shining through, her frame wiry and slight, her skin a shocking salmon with large stripes of purple, blue, green, and yellow. A head tail bobbed behind her as she talked animatedly.

“General Exor, General Zethrid,” one of Melody’s guards interrupted, nodding to each in turn before stepping forward with a Galran salute. “We’ve brought the prisoner as Prince Lotor requested.”

“Mmm,” Exor, the wiry one, said, eyeing Melody up and down with a sweet smile. “Looks like he found another one.” She sighed loudly before throwing a teasing look at the other general. “Jealous, Zethy?”

When Zethrid looked at Melody, there was nothing sweet about her. She snorted, crossing her large arms. “Hardly. Look at how breakable she is.”

You’re first, Melody vowed, not backing down from Zethrid’s gaze even though Zethrid was over two heads taller than her. The general wasn’t impressed.

“We’ll take her from here, thank you,” Exor sing-songed, looping her arm through Melody’s. The camaraderie was a false one as the rebel’s hands had been rebound after fitting her in the dress. The two entered the cruiser, Zethrid’s heavy steps following behind them.

Melody observed Exor from the corner of her eye. This was the general Tarrok had given his report to, the one who had been supposedly “pleased” with him. Watching her now, Melody realized Exor’s was the kind of jovial ruthlessness that was rarely ever anything but pleased. Everything was a joke, everything was amusement. This was the general who had taken every scrap of information Tarrok could give and gleefully considered him of no further use before Lotor had even met him. And Lotor had obviously agreed with her.

Exor’s cheer was dangerous. Melody had no doubt that Zethrid, at her back, was no less so. She would need to take the utmost care while in their company.

Even though Exor seemed determined to distract her with chatter, Melody watched as much as she could, noting corridors and rooms and lifts. Eventually, though, she lost track, having gone into the ship too deeply, everything too new and overwhelming. She was comforted by the fact that a warship like this had to have plenty of personal ships in its hold, perfect for stealing.

She just had to bide her time.

“And this is the bridge!” Exor exclaimed, waving her hand in a wide sweep at the sprawling viewport, the stations scattered around the room, the throne facing it all, once again thankfully empty. “And this is Acxa, and the one with the cat is Narti.”

More Galra hybrids. Narti sported a tail and predominately blue skin. Acxa’s skin was also blue, though lighter than Narti’s, and her dark blue hair was pinned up, revealed pointed ears. Her eyes flicked to Melody, the same color as Lotor’s. Was she half-Altaen, too, or something similar?

Zethrid shouldered past Melody. “Why are you bothering, Exor? She isn’t even going to be up here. Give it a few weeks, Lotor’ll be through with her.”

“A few weeks, huh? That’s generous. I was betting only one. Oh!” Exor patted Melody’s arm. “Sorry, sweetheart. I just know how this goes.”

Melody met her bubbly expression coolly, amending her initial target.

“Four days,” Acxa supplied, not even looking up from her console.

Exor turned expectantly toward the last general. “Narti?”

Narti didn’t falter in her work in the slightest, didn’t react to Exor’s request at all. But the cat on her shoulder raised its head and hissed in their direction.

“Ouch, that’s so harsh,” Exor mock-lamented. She put a hand over her mouth like she was whispering a secret to Melody, but her voice carried. “She says you’ll be disposed of by tomorrow.”

Never mind, Melody thought as Exor led her away to another part of the ship. You’re all next.

Starting with the prince.

Melody did not like the room Exor locked her in.

It was clearly Lotor’s quarters. No one else besides royalty would have quarters this lavish on a military vessel, though it still wasn’t overly garish, just elegant. It was also neat, everything in its proper place, seeming barely lived in if not for the personal touches here and there. Melody didn’t take the time to study every corner, to appreciate every beautiful thing. She didn’t even sit down.

She wasn’t dumb or naïve. She knew exactly why she’d been brought here. It’s you. Knew exactly why those guards had laughed. You’re going to need it. Knew exactly what Exor had meant. Looks like he found another one.

There was a dresser in Lotor’s chambers. The only thing significant about it for Melody was its sharp edges. She rammed her restraints against it, every clang of metal against metal helping organize her thoughts. Clang! Traitors in the Blade of Marmora. Clang! Get off the ship. Clang! Report everything back to Voltron. At last, they broke, her hands springing free. She whirled, hunting for a weapon.

But Lotor clearly kept his weapons elsewhere, for there were none to be found and nothing to get creative with. Frustrated, she turned to the wall panel by the door, remembering the hacks she knew and the ones Pidge had taught her. If she couldn’t run now, perhaps an opportunity would present itself later. It would help to know what she was working with.

Before she got there, the world tilted beneath her feet. Melody stretched out an arm and caught herself from falling just in time. Leaning against the wall, she breathed deep, her heart pounding loud and fast in her ears.

Uncommonly fast.

At first she thought the ship had shifted, but the spinning sensation grew worse and worse. Her breath quickened to match her racing heart, and closing her eyes for balance didn’t help a wit. She slid down the wall, resting her head on her knees, the train of her dress bunched up behind her. Every sensation, every sound and touch, felt more intense and vivid, but at the same time was detached from her. She opened her eyes to find the edges of her vision darkening. What was happening to her?

She lost consciousness before she found the answer.

A warm, slow caress upon her inner thigh. A teasing brush of velvet against her neck. A foam-like softness beneath her. Melody came to with a feeble groan and tilted her head back, welcoming whatever was making her feel so magnificent. It was much better than the spinning, which seemed to have stopped, and there was so much warmth.

A deep laugh against her neck brought her crashing back to reality, her eyes flying wide open.

Lotor held himself above her, wearing an appraising expression that was tinged with self-satisfaction. “Enjoy your little nap, my pet?”

“Your what?”

Melody tried to push him off, but the struggle did not last long once Lotor pinned her to the bed.

His bed.

“What did you bastards do to me?” she snarled. She fought to rise and felt the gold strands in her hair pulling from where they were trapped beneath her shoulders and back—but she barely moved an inch. For all the slimness of his form, Lotor was deceptively strong.

“Quintessence,” Lotor replied smoothly, his long, white hair cascading down his shoulders and brushing against her. “A double-edged sword at the best of times. It’s always had a jarring effect on you.”

That was a way of putting it, especially since Melody felt pretty damn jarred waking up in the enemy’s bed, being straddled by said enemy. Not to mention that voice… A good thing her guard was always up; she imagined Lotor could wreak all kinds of havoc with a few well-placed, silkily-delivered words alone. “Impressive reasoning skills,” she said, “particularly since I’ve never imbibed quintessence before. Well done.”

Lotor smiled lazily. “I finally understand the purpose behind the muzzle now.”

Muzzle? What muzzle? Ah, wonderful. If Zarkon had been homicidal, Lotor was crazy. Must run in the family.

But his eyes never once wavered from hers, honing on them with singular intent. His wasn’t the gaze of a madman but one that was calm and methodical. Cunning and assured in victory. Doubt crept up her spine. Melody hoped it didn’t show on her face.

Lotor continued, his voice low. “It satisfies me to know that the rest of your features live up to the beauty of those eyes of yours. I’ve wondered for so long.”

“The prince of the empire has spent his time wondering about a rebel supply runner?” Melody asked, part-incredulous, part-mocking. Again, that unwarranted, disturbing familiarity. How could he claim to know her when she’d never seen a trace of him before now? Better keep him talking. That way he wouldn’t have time for…other things.

“Is that what you’ve been up to lately?” A slight smirk caused his face to sharpen. “Such a disappointing turn from your glory days.”

“What glory days are those?”

Now his smile was bordering on vicious. “You really don’t remember?”

“Remember what?” Melody was getting pissed with how he kept answering her questions with more questions. It wasn’t a charming trait, yet she welcomed the anger, how it caused her heart to pump with strength; it sheltered her from the fear that awoke alongside it.

“You poor thing.” His face inched lower to hers. “What have the druids done to you?”

“Nothing compared to what I’m going to do to you!” Melody cracked her forehead against his nose in a sharp head butt, sending him reeling back. In a flash, Melody had pushed him off and was on her feet. The rebel snatched a spherical object from Lotor’s dresser—cool to the touch but most importantly heavy—and hurled it at his center. Lotor dodged to the side with some quick footwork, and the thing shattered on the wall behind him, more brittle than a Christmas ornament, dissolving like sand.

Melody moved into his space before he could center himself, fist raised. But he blocked her punch with ease and stepped back from her attempt to sweep his legs out from under him. Melody feinted with a left swing only to bring up her right leg to stab the heel of her shoe into his thigh.

Lotor blocked that, too, and his hand on her leg sent an electrified jolt down her spine. The world spun, and suddenly Melody’s back slammed into the wall, the breath knocked out of her.

“I know your ways well, darling girl,” Lotor purred, boasting no injuries despite her efforts, “and that was uninspired, at best.” He hooked her leg over his hip and pressed tight against her, the hem of her dress hiked up between them. Melody’s face flushed. The heat radiating from him was overwhelming, and she felt every hard inch. He trailed his gloved hand down her leg and hooked a finger in one of the shoe straps on her calf, testing its hold and teasing the bare skin underneath. “These, on the other hand, I find truly inspiring. You wear the color well.”

She knew he meant the gold far more than the white. “Let me go,” she demanded. He had her wrists trapped above her head in one of his hands, but once again the thing that unsettled her the most was how his eyes never left hers.

He watched her closely, so closely. “Giving up already? That’s unbecoming of the Galra Killer.”

Melody was silent, her mouth dry.

She had been right. Wreaking havoc with just a few words. Galra Killer.

“All these pitiful test subjects, running around with gaps in their memories," the prince went on, the politeness of his tone its own brand of mockery. “How much time are you missing, I wonder?” His head dipped, and she felt lips brush her ear. “Or should I ask, who are you missing?”

Lotor’s words triggered memories that she spent a lot of time not thinking about. The departure from Earth she didn’t remember making. The family of aliens who’d nursed her back to health, suffering from injuries she couldn’t explain. She’d been such a savage to them, before finding her humanity again. Two years of her life gone, by her calculation. Maybe her father, too, though she couldn’t be sure. Had he been taken from her, like Pidge’s, or had they gotten separated, maybe on some planet she didn’t know? Was he alive or dead? So many questions she didn’t have answers for, much less any leads. The only things of her father she had was a photograph, some old clothes, and some home movies on her phone, each respectively stored in Allura’s castle and computer.

The only things she had, and this Galran prince’s shot in the dark was more effective as a taunt than he probably realized.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Melody said in the most even, stern tone she had.

But it didn’t matter. Those emotions of loss, panic, fear had to go somewhere, and she couldn’t hide how her body shook with them. Lotor felt every tremor. She watched, horrified, as he wound a gold-free strand of her hair around his finger and fixed her with a look of disarming understanding.

“It must be so hard,” said Lotor, “being one of the few of your species this far from home, bereft of family and loved ones.” The tip of his fine, aristocratic nose brushed hers. “You must be so lonely.”

“You know nothing about it,” she whispered, incensed. “Now get. Off. Me.”

“Do you not understand what I’m offering you?” He pulled back only far enough for her to see him plainly. “All it would take is one word from me, and your loved one could be returned to you. All you have to do is please me.”

And there it was. The reason she’d been brought here, all made up like a doll. Let’s be real honest with ourselves here. A sex slave. That’s what she was.

Except one thing didn’t add up. Why the bargain?

So he doesn’t have to work as hard to make me compliant. But that inner reasoning fell short of the mark, too, because Melody could tell that Lotor had little shortcomings in the realm of sexual fulfillment. It was in the way he moved, how he could read people, all sinuous grace and cunning mind. He was a dream to gaze upon, a dark, wicked one, and ever since he’d started touching her—no, ever since she’d heard his laugh in the throne room—she’d had trouble thinking through her next steps. Reminding herself that he was the enemy helped—until he spoke again. Even now, she wasn’t convinced that the velvety deepness of his voice wasn’t a druid spell in action.

If he was anyone else, Melody would want to fuck him, eagerly. What she couldn’t understand is why he wasn’t already doing it, especially since he held all the power to do so. Why offer her a mutually beneficial deal?

“I can tell you don’t believe me,” Lotor said, reaching into his uniform, “so take this. A gesture of good faith.”

Between his fingers was a small, circular disc, barely larger than an American half-dollar coin. Pressing a seamless button in the center, Lotor settled the disc flat on his palm, and Melody watched, mesmerized, as a small hologram came to life.

And there, in monochrome colors of magenta, was— “Dad!” she breathed, the word flying from her as if it’d been sucker punched out of her. She could almost swear it had been. Despite everything, Lotor had managed to blindside her using the one thing she didn’t believe he could possibly know. Why did he why did he how did he?

Even though she felt him watching her instead of the hologram, she took in the sight as if it were the last thing she’d ever see. Her father, in threadbare, shapeless clothes, a restraining collar around his neck. He toiled away at some menial task before a Galran soldier appeared, shoving him on. He’s alive, she thought, relieved but also terrified. And he’s definitely not on Earth. Melody’s chest physically hurt as she watched. Her dad had never been an overly large man, but now… He’s gotten so thin. So alarmingly thin.

“Where did you get this?” Melody couldn’t tear her eyes away, and suddenly that single question beckoned more and more. She started to struggle against his hold on her again, trying to get to that disc. “Where is he? Is he alright? How did you—”

Lotor crushed the disc in his hand, the hologram fading away in a jerking burst of static. The pieces fell to the floor one by one, and Melody was stunned as Lotor dusted his hand off on his jacket. “All that and more will be answered.” He trapped her chin between his fingers, his body leaning hard against hers. “But first you’ll have to agree to our bargain.”

How could she agree to this? But how could she not? Lotor already knew her answer. The way his lips curled up at the corners said so.

“Smile while you can.” Her eyes burned with fury and unshed tears. “I’m going to get him back, and Voltron’s going to tear this whole empire of yours apart.”

“Ah, yes, the paladins. We do need to discuss that as well, you and I.” Lotor skimmed his lips slowly up her neck, then along her jawline. Melody sucked in a sharp breath, horrified that she couldn’t stop him. Horrified with how her defenses crumbled and her body ignited with heat. That one little motion felt so good. He felt so good. “But I tire of talking business. Do you agree or don’t you?”

Galra Killer. She tried to hold on to that tidbit of information he’d given her, finding unexpected strength in it, but Lotor’s mouth was doing sinful things to her neck that made it impossible to think, much else plan a way out of this. His teeth grazed a spot under her jaw that made her back arch while his hand moved to fit inside the curve of her waist.

“Y-yes.” She hated how her breath caught on the word. Hated that she said it, even for someone else’s sake. “I agree.”

She felt him smile against her neck. “I knew you would.” He sighed, hot breath fanning across the hollow of her throat. “At last.”

Melody screwed her eyes shut. She wouldn’t beg, wouldn’t ask him to stop. All she had to do was forget where she was, who he was, and go by sensation alone. It wasn’t at all unpleasant. That was the sickening part. It doesn’t have to be real for me, she reminded herself. Just real for him. Lower his guard. Get what I need. Escape.

Lotor suddenly jerked her chin forward and said, “I know what you’re doing. Look at me, slave. I want to see those pretty eyes.”

She would not. She could forget who he was if she kept her eyes closed. Could hate him easier by imagining the worst.

“Reneging on our bargain already?”

Her eyes opened at the threat in his voice. “No.” Then she tried something else. “I’m just…not sure what to do.”

“Really?” Lotor arched a brow at her, but when she didn’t break, the disbelief and hardness in his features vanished. “Then I’ll show you.”

He drew her into a kiss, no chaste, little thing, but something deep and languid. The taste of Lotor in her mouth was overwhelming, all sensuality and spice. Every stroke of his tongue against hers caused her head to swim. Dimly, she realized she was being lifted, both of her legs now wrapped around his waist, and carried back to the bed.

His fangs scraped and tugged her bottom lip as he lowered her down, and she gasped as electricity shot down her spine, lifting the hair on her arms and making something low in her stomach jump.

"So that's how those eyes look, darkened with pleasure. How I’ve imagined it, and yet…” A feather-light caress grazed her cheek. “You're exquisite."

“Why so obsessed about my eyes, prince?” She wasn’t sure why she asked. She didn’t care. She was going to escape. But right now, while everything was going so far out of her control, she clung to something halfway normal, in this case her dry insight. “Yours are blue, too.”

Lotor only smiled as if she’d amused him and started divesting her of her clothes. The shoulder guard went first, tossed across the room, then the belt, and finally the dress. Heart pounding, Melody was completely bare before him, save for her shoes, the jewelry in her hair, and the paint on her arms. Face flaming red, she reached down to unstrap the heels, but Lotor stopped her.

“No.” His gaze raked over her slowly, from head to toe, taking in every curve, every imperfection. Lingering on the bit of loveliness the gold accents brought to her pale skin, how the heels laced up to her knees lent a glamorous wantonness to her otherwise stripped form. With stark hunger in his eyes, he began taking off his gloves, one finger at a time. “Leave them on.”

And suddenly, the reality of what was happening, what they were about to do, crashed into her with the force of a tidal wave.

What the hell was she doing?

I can’t do this I can’t do this—

Panic threatened to overwhelm her and oddly brought acute lucidity along with it. She thought herself insane. Insane to agree to this, insane that she’d allowed him to touch her, to kiss her, to strip her without even fighting back—

His warm, bare hand upon the curve of her hipbone silenced all discordant thought. Even humoring suspicions that druid magic lurked in his hands evaporated as he skimmed his palm upward, the skin he touched coming alive in ways the rest of her could only brace for in anticipation.

Melody shivered as Lotor traced circles on her stomach before gliding up. She grasped the sateen sheets as he kneaded her breasts. It was either that or strike him, but she rationalized the sense in refraining. She feared any attempt she made would be foiled along with her reasons for…indulging in this. Her thoughts scattered as every graze of his thumbs against her nipples sent aftershocks coursing through her. Lotor lowered his head, and she groaned while he tended to them with his mouth, teeth scraping the swell of flesh, mouth sucking and biting one pert nipple then the other.

By the time he was done, Melody was shaking, keeping herself from making any sounds that betrayed how incredible Lotor was making her feel, even as that spot between her legs ached deliciously.

"There's just something about you Earthlings,” Lotor taunted between kissing a trail up to her collarbone. “So sensitive to pain, to ecstasy, and yet so very resilient.” His hand tangled in her hair, guiding her head up to meet his complacent smirk and half-lidded eyes. A gold strand fell loose to dance against her shoulder. Lotor tugged it free before guiding its long, cool length against her skin. “You're a worthy people to conquer."

“Then what are you waiting for? Do it!” She’d expected him to take her hard and fast and then discard her; all this teasing wasn’t something she’d been prepared for or could stand against. “Lotor, please.”

His mouth whispered against hers, commanding. “Say it again.”

“Lotor, please. Enough with the teasing, please.”

“Careful with how sweetly you beg, slave,” he murmured, “or I’ll grow addicted to the sound.” He drew her into a devouring kiss, and she held onto him, one hand fisted in his coat, the other in his silky hair. Lotor broke the kiss with a laugh. “What a sight you make. Breathless, flushed, and so eager. The savage Galra Killer, tamed and at my mercy at last.”

Am I?

Melody fashioned an inviting smile upon her lips and raised herself up. “I suppose I am eager—to fulfill my end of the bargain.”

Something in Lotor’s eyes shifted, but he tossed the gold aside, sat back on his haunches, and watched her slide his coat off his shoulders. Removing the shirt was trickier, but Lotor helped her along, smug beyond belief as she threw herself into her role, worshipping the planes of his chest with her mouth, her nails scratching along his abdominal and back muscles. Melody was proven right again. Sex with Lotor was easy, undeniably pleasurable, a large part because he was so intoxicating.

She didn’t know just how much until his pants and shoes were gone, and he’d sheathed himself inside her with one long, slow stroke.

Her back arched completely off the bed, a throaty moan breaking free at last. Lotor’s hips rolled, a smooth movement of predatory grace, and the rhythm he set was hard but slow, as if he didn’t want to miss any of the pleasurable sensations he was drawing from her body. It drove her wild with need, and she fought him now, not to stop, but to go harder, faster.

“Very good, little rebel. Moan for me.” He held himself up by holding her down with a hand around her throat. He could see as much of her as she could of him, every flex of muscle, ripple of flesh, and drop of sweat. “Moan for your future Emperor.”

From that moment on, she did anything he demanded of her, was willing to do anything if it meant she could be sated. But while Lotor had been the one to set her on fire, he did not seem overly in a hurry to put that fire out. Every time she felt her release hurtling towards her, he would sense it, denying her what she wanted with a cruel laugh. Hoping to please him and be returned in kind, she even allowed herself to be forced to her knees to take him in her mouth—but even after that, he denied her. Murder shone in her eyes more clearly than when they’d fought, and though he just as plainly sensed the danger, the only emotion he betrayed was feral delight.

At one point, he rolled onto his back to let her ride on top, and she thought finally—finally—she could take control and end her torment. But Lotor watched her lazily, smiling, his hair fanned out behind him in disheveled waves that was entirely her doing. His purple skin wasn’t the least bit flushed even while beads of sweat trailed down his neck and chest. Utterly unbothered while she was completely out of control, out of her mind. He gripped her by the waist, slowing down her thrusts, and met her with his own, the sole master of both of their pleasure once again.

Melody almost expected him to be able to do this for days, wondering with dread if this was typical for Galrans or Altaens, when he drew her back against his chest, holding her up with an arm banded around her. Her legs spread wide as he entered her from behind, his pace now hard and fast, and her head fell back against his shoulder, cursing him and murmuring nonsense as the pressure built up again.

“How beautifully you’ve performed.” Only a little strain marred the smoothness of his voice. Lotor wasn’t even out of breath, goddamn him. “I think you’ve earned a reward by now, haven’t you? Hmm, and what have we here?” He swiped a thumb experimentally over her clit, and an embarrassing sound escaped her, her body quivering before she could stop it. Lotor’s lips split into a wild grin. “Oh, I see.” He made her come at last with a few well-timed massages of her clit, and he laughed, delighted, as she fell apart against him, never once breaking his rhythm. He came soon after with a guttural groan and nipped her ear as he pulled out of her.

“Oh, Melody, my perfect pet, my exquisite little slave. You know I can’t let you go now, don’t you?” His arms around her tightened, holding her back against his chest.

“Say it again,” she commanded breathlessly, wanting to hear her name on his tongue. Not realizing he’d known it.

He jerked her back by the hair, purring, “Remember who your master is, pet.”

“What about our deal?”

The hand in her hair squeezed. “Impatient thing. I’ll let you know when it’s fulfilled.”

Not anytime soon, I bet. Fine, then. If he wanted to hedge, there were other ways to get the information she wanted. That disc had only been a copy, she was sure of it. Lotor wouldn’t so casually destroy something that he could use to his advantage later, and though she didn’t entirely know why, he craved advantage over her. Which meant it was somewhere inside the ship’s computer, and she would find it before she left.

Melody’s heart raced as she felt him growing hard against her again. Despite the gauntlet he’d already put her through, she found she wasn’t yet fatigued at all herself.

And she knew what she needed to do.

“Then let me try again, my prince.”

She raised herself on her knees and turned toward him, crushing her mouth and body to his, one hand cupping his face while the other tangled in his hair. Lotor met her passion with his own, exploring her body with languid determination, as if he had nothing but time to do so.

That passion turned hot and frantic after she stroked a finger along one of his pointed ears teasingly. With a growl and a sudden protraction of claws—ah, there’s the Galra—Lotor roughly pinned her down face-first, and she knew he wasn’t going to take it slow this time.

Throughout the night, Melody felt a world of gratefulness for that earlier quintessence. After their fifth round, it was the only thing keeping her in the game.

Narti lost her bet. Two days passed before Melody saw any other part of the ship again, Lotor seeing few reasons to leave his bed much less his rooms. Axca and Ezor lost as well, to the former’s perturbed silence and the latter’s vocal disappointment. Only Zethrid with her gamble of “a few weeks” could be considered the victor, but only by a technicality.

For Melody did not leave Lotor’s side because he threw her away like garbage. She left because she found the information she needed about her father, saw an opening to steal a fighter during mid-combat, and took it in the chaos (some of which was internal and entirely her doing).

It worked only because Lotor had left her alone in his quarters while he assumed command on the bridge. It worked because he believed the ecstasy he gave her every moment he could had made her mindless, but, while debilitating, Melody still held her mind firmly to her purpose. Traitors in the Blade of Marmora. Get off the ship. Report everything back to Voltron. It worked because he didn’t know she knew how to reprogram drones and work around Galran ship’s security servers, even though his were slightly different and harder to crack. It worked because she’d given him her body and made enough of a show of it that he believed he’d won her loyalty and blind obedience, too.

That trick wouldn’t work a second time, which was why she was going to make it a point to never see him again. Not just because he would see through it, but because…

She’d given him her body. Sometimes the heart foolishly went with it.

But not this time.

Not even Voltron had that. It belonged to Earth, to her family and her people.

But would it always? Sometimes she was strong, unbreakable. But sometimes she hit her lowest point, and if anyone could find it and exploit it…

Melody shook her head, saying to her latest drone, “Bit, has the castle received our transmission?”

“Yes,” the drone chirped, morphing as it responded.

“Then it won’t be long now.”

“Yes.”

Melody slumped back in the pilot’s chair, tugging at the ill-fitting Galran uniform she’d stolen. No, it wouldn’t be long before she found Team Voltron again—or more accurately, before they found her. Then she could tell them everything she’d learned, about the Blades, Lotor’s leadership style, his combat proficiency. And we’ll leave his proficiency at that. It pissed her off that she could still blush in embarrassment, after everything that she had done with him, what they had both done.

I was coerced. I was out of my mind.

But had she really been?

She looked at the disc between her fingers again, a copy of information stolen from Lotor’s ship. She’d give it to Pidge, and they could begin looking for their fathers together, with a clear direction this time. Securing the disc in her uniform pocket, Melody snuggled down in her chair and closed her eyes.

First she was going the fuck to sleep. Total, uninterrupted sleep. And she was going to forget about the past two weeks and the royal fucking she’d received from that fucking smug bastard of a Galran royal.

Galra Killer.

Her brows furrowed, and she tossed in frustration.

Like it or not, it was time for her to stop avoiding the past and to start asking the right questions. Fortunately, she didn’t need Lotor any longer for that.

She needed Shiro.

#THERE IT'S DONE IT'S POSTED LEAVE ME ALONE I NEVER WANT TO SEE IT AGAIN #(unless i receive endless praise for this garbage otherwise okay i'll revisit)#otp: it's you #alternatively it's #otp: if i'm holding the knife and you're holding the knife... (then who's flying the ship)#invictus

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aspiringauthorblog-blog · 7 years

Text

Immortality Keys Except

Hey! Here’s an except from the first book.

Chapter Two “Commander Afokmi, I’m pretty sure you’ve exhausted every preset on the bot. Maybe you should take a rest?” I pushed myself to stand and walked away from the felled robot.

“I have a mission coming up soon. I will not make the same mistake as my brother, and be unprepared for a conflict,” I replied. “Could you find me some retired presets before I come in again tomorrow?” The door slid open, and I walked out of the training room.

“Of course, Commander,” the operator replied as I walked past. As I entered the locker room though, I heard them mutter. “At least the General hadn’t been a bitch…”

“Isn’t, Operator,” I corrected. “He’s still alive, you know.” I surpressed a smile at the sudden horror that filled the operator. It would do them good to hold their tongue.

I pulled open my locker and removed my holobracelet. It pulsed green with notifications, so I opened them.

“Commander Afokmi, your brother has woken up. Could you or Sergeant Pheone come to escort him to his quarters?” Doctor Morris’s message read. Damn, it had been sent just after I went into training. I threw on my change of clothes and hurried out towards the medical ward as I scrolled through the few other messages.

“Commander Afokmi, your mission briefing has been rescheduled to happen in two days. Please come to the Research Ward after Training.” Ugh, I hate changes to my schedule.

I hurried into the medical ward, only to run into the one person I did not need to see. Rhaenga.

“Envera! What a surprise, I—” Rhaenga began. I brushed past him, and walked up to my brother’s empty bed. “Pheone came to get him. I guess you were busy?”

“Sergeant Pheone to you, Medic,” I hissed. “If that’s the case, I’ll take my leave.” I turned to see he’d barred the door.

“Envera, please. Can’t we just talk?” His yellow eyes gleamed sadly. There had been a time where I would’ve listened to anything he said. Not anymore though.

“I need to see my brother. Now, move,” I ordered. He folded his scaled arms over his chest and frowned.

“You’re being unreasonable,” he began.

“Unreasonable? You left me for dead,” I replied. I didn’t yell, scream, or shriek this. He wasn’t worth it. “I trusted you with my life, and you left me for dead the second we came under fire. I brought myself back to this station, barely conscious. And when I returned, you didn’t even look at me. When Jenderous came after you, you told him it was either me or you. We were mates, Rhaenga. Mates. If that had meant anything to you, you would’ve stayed beside me. Instead, you left me, and I want nothing to do with you. Now, I’ll say this one more time: move!” He flinched as I spoke, and did actually move. Unfortunately, he followed me.

“If you wanted nothing to do with me, why did you set Jenderous on me?”

“I didn’t do anything. You’re the one who tripped his sister in order to escape rebels. Jenderous went after you himself,” I replied. Hopefully, once Rhaenga realized I was heading towards Jenderous, he’d leave me alone.

“Then why does he continue to harass me? He belittled me in front of Doctor Xyil the second he woke up!” I couldn’t help it. I let out a laugh. “I could get a disciplinary report!”

“You deserve no pity from me,” I replied. “Now, Medic. I have no need of an escort to see my brother. I also believe you have a job to do.” I walked away, leaving him behind. Honestly, if only Jenderous had agreed to being assigned a new station. But no, he couldn’t.

“Envera, we have our orders from His Excellency. Besides, this is where our people had served. Don’t you think we need to carry that on as long as we can?” He’d said when I had asked him to request a reassignment during my stay in the Med Ward. “However, I can promise you that I will make Rhaenga regret what he did, and make him want a transfer.”

As I passed the mess hall, I saw Pheone walking toward me.

“Commander Afokmi, how are you?” She turned as I passed her to walk beside me. “I just brought your brother food.”

“You’re too kind,” I replied. Pheone had never been a friend to me. She was indeed kind, and I did enjoy talking to her, but I never felt the ability to confide myself in her. I could never admit to any worries or doubts. I couldn’t even tell her that there was no chance Jenderous would return her feelings for him, especially after he’d seen Rhaenga’s disregard for me. “Is he well?”

“As far as I can tell, yes. Although, he seems to go into his own head quite easily,” she replied. “I’ll bring his dinner to him, if that’s alright?” Poor girl. I nodded.

“If you’d like, the three of us could have dinner together. I’m sure he’d like that.” That made her smile.

“Too bad we can’t do what we normally do,” she replied.

“I’m sure he’ll cook again soon enough. He loves it.” I watched as the band on her wrist lit up. She tapped on a button and the holoscreen showed a message.

“Agh, my Commander wants to see me about the mission. I’ll see you later,” Pheone sighed before hurrying off in the other direction. I then ran down the hall to my brother’s room.

I walked in after punching in my brother’s password. The room seemed empty.

“Jenderous?” I called as the door shut behind me. I heard movement from the bathroom.

“I’ll be out in a second!” Followed by a crash. “Maybe two seconds!” I ran over and found my brother sitting on the bathroom floor, a shirt over his head.

“Are you hurt?” I asked as I took the shirt hem and tugged it down. His hair was wet and hung down, over his eyes. He shook his head, splashing me with water droplets.

“Does the injury to my pride count?” He asked as he adjusted the medallion around his neck. I watched as his eyes went blank for a second, then he focused back on me. “Envera, how are you?”

“I’m fine. Do you need help getting up?”

“Nah,” Jenderous replied. He pushed against the ground and flew up, still in a sitting position. “Flying around makes my head hurt a little less,” he explained.

“You need to drink, you’ve been unconscious for a while,” I said. I walked into the kitchen as he flew over to the couch. After filling up two glasses, I joined him,

“I have been out for a while,” he snorted. I watched him drain the glass in one go. “Now, tell me about this new mission?” I shook my head. How could he possibly think about me right now?

“Jenderous, you just woke up from a coma,” I replied. “We can focus on you right now.” I watched him push his hair back, out of his eyes. Space black with streaks of purple where the light hit it, and a new silver streak that appeared when he was brought back from the mission. He kept his left eye on me from an angle. “Missing your eyepatch?” He nodded. “Let me find one for you.”

“Last I remembered, I keep the spare in the top drawer next to my bed,” he said. I got up and walked over. Opening the drawer, I found the ordinate eyepatch with our family crest, and a silver gemstone carved into a crescent.

“This is the nice one. Are you sure you want it?” I looked back to see him nod. Gently, I lifted it up and walked back before placing it in his hand. After he secured it over his scarred eye, I sat down and he faced me fully. I could still see the edge of the scar just below where the eyepatch ended, but it bothered me less. “What happened?”

Jenderous curled up, hugging his knees to his chest as his tail curled over his feet. “I don’t remember, I can’t remember the past seven lunar cycles at all!” He bit his lip and looked down. “Envera, I’m scared. What happened to me?” I was watching my brother, the king of our people, break down. I moved closer to him and hugged him, patting his back gently.

“You were on a conquest mission in Sector 61. Apparently, when the other soldiers found you, you’d already been unconscious, and you’d been stabbed. When you were brought back, the Med staff had to perform surgery to repair a pierced lung and stitch you up, but you were still unconscious,” I explained. “It’s been practically a lunar cycle since you were brought back.”

“You weren’t worried?” Jenderous looked up at me. He didn’t seem angry, or even upset. He just had the familiar curious gleam in his eye.

“Thayron’s already taken everyone else I love. He knows I would attempt to overthrow him if he took you too,” I said. Jenderous snorted and shook his head.

“To this day, I still can’t understand how you can say such things about your patron. Why would you even pick him if you despise him so much?” I looked away. I loved Jenderous, he was a great brother and leader, but he’d seen a much kinder version of our people as he’d grown up.

“Because he made my existence miserable, so I’m going to return the favor. It’s not the worst reason to pick a patron, I don’t think.” Jenderous nodded thoughtfully, keeping whatever opinion he had to himself. I noticed a keycard on the cushions between us. “What’s that?”

“Oh, here,” he said. He handed me the keycard, and I saw Rhaenga’s information on it. “He wasn’t paying attention when Pheone escorted me out, so I took it.” Jenderous grinned at me, happy with himself.

“You know he needs this to access the medicine room, right?” I asked. Jenderous shrugged and leaned back against the couch, keeping his eye on me.

“Who cares what he needs? Rhaenga deserves a pain in his tail.” Jenderous was frowning now. He’d taken what Rhaenga had done personally when it’d happened half a solar cycle ago.

“You know it wasn’t your fault, right?” I reminded him. Jenderous shrugged again.

“I don’t even remember what happened. I just know I hate him,” he admitted. “Either way, it’s fun to agitate him.” I laughed and turned the keycard over in my hands a few times. There was a little box in my quarters filled with things Jenderous had taken from Rhaenga, including reports he was about to turn in, a few pieces of jewelry, trinkets, and 4 previous key cards.

“You’re not going to give it back, right?” Jenderous was watching me, and it felt weird. Before he got hurt, his posture and actions felt intimidating or authoritative. Now, he just looked at me curiously, and he seemed a bit nervous.

“Why would I? I barely stand being in the same room as him, much less actually communicat--” My holobracelet flashed purple, meaning a general was messaging me.

“Who is it?” Jenderous leaned towards me.

“General Vado Kyl,” I replied. That name sounded familiar. “You know him?”

“He was Pheone’s general, before Vado Mor, up until that raid in Sector 39 five solar cycles ago. I’m pretty sure he’s buried in the station’s cemetery.” I glanced to Jenderous, slightly disturbed. How was a dead general sending me a message? Jenderous must’ve seen my expression, because he continued. “It could be a glitch, or someone using a hack to get your attention.”

“‘Meet me at the forest line, near the jogging path,’” I read. “Think I should go?”

“If it’s a prank, you can teach whoever thought of it a lesson on not messing with Fendoorens. And if it’s a glitch, you don’t want to keep someone waiting forever. They might have something important to tell you about the upcoming mission,” Jenderous replied.

“Is that a yes?” Jenderous nodded. “What about you? Are you sure you can be left alone?”

“I was going to sleep until dinner, actually. Believe it or not, three weeks wasn’t nearly enough time to rest.” Jenderous pushed himself up and walked over to his bed. After removing his eyepatch, he flopped into his bed.

“How dignified of you,” I snorted. He waved his hand at me before curling up on his side. “Sergeant Pheone will be bringing dinner to you, and we’ll all eat together. I’ll see you soon, Brother.” I made my way to the door.

“See you, love you,” Jenderous replied, his voice already slurred with sleep. I blinked. He hadn’t said anything like that in almost a solar cycle.

The outside air had a frigidness to it, and a gentle breeze that stirred up trees branches, leaves, and my hair. As I walked, I tied my hair back to keep the black strands from falling in my face. I saw a few soldiers running on the trails, and a few small groups of friends chatting idly.

“You think we’ll be chosen for the mission?” One soldier asked her friends. “I’ve always wanted to go on a conquest.”

“I don’t know. From preliminary findings, it doesn’t seem like this will be the most diplomatic of missions. A lot of people will probably get hurt or killed,” one of the other soldiers replied.

“Hey look,” I saw one of them point at me. “Isn’t that the Fendooren soldier?” I cringed at his pronunciation.

“It’s pronounced Fen-Door-in, Cayln, not Fen-do-ren. And yes, that’s one of them,” the girl explained. I smiled a bit. Maybe I should talk to her sometime.

“What’s with her tail? Why does it move like that? The dogs on our planet have minimal movement,” the idiot, Cayln, spat. I froze.

“Cayln, you know she can hear you right?” The first friend replied. Part of me wanted to storm over and yell at him. Fendoorens were far from dogs. Had that idiot seen us before the Calamity, he would’ve known that. Instead, I kept walking towards the forest. I heard one of the people stand up, as if they meant to approach me. I snapped my tail, hoping that whoever it was knew enough body language cues to stay away.

“Who knotted your tail the wrong way?” A deep, laughing voice asked as I got to the supposed meeting place. I folded my arms, looking in annoyance at the man who walked out.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, my Patron?” I asked. Thayron, the Fendooren God of Death stood before me. I’m sure it would’ve been more impressive if he’d decided to remain in his godly form, but he looked like any mortal Fendooren. His pale skin stuck out against the black clothing and the bands that wrapped around his neck, arms, and fingers he wore. Black hair was tied back and hung down his shoulder, which made it easy to see his golden eyes, and the closed eyelid on his forehead.

“Envera, could you walk with me? I wish to discuss a confidential matter with you, and I do not wish to be overheard,” Thayron said, offering me his arm. I walked beside him, but did not touch him.

“Good thing you decided to have this conversation with the one person who has super hearing then,” I replied. “What is the matter you wish to discuss?”

“It’s come to my attention that one of my weapons has been stolen,” Thayron began. “Had I been Solair or Astra, I would write it off as banter that has gotten a bit out of hand. However, I have no rivals, nor do I have anyone who is unsatisfied with me, safe for you, of course. Therefore, my only conclusion is that someone has taken it with the intent to use it.”

“Excellent deduction skills,” I replied, tilting my head side to side. “Obviously if someone takes a weapon, they intend to use it. I presume you want me to find this weapon?” Thayron narrowed his gaze at me, then pressed his hand to the side of his temple.

“Yes, I want you to get it back. If my spear falls into the wrong hands, it will be devastating.”

“Wait, wait, you lost the Spear? Why was that even in a position to be stolen?” How stupid could Thayron be?

“Yes. Now, will you find it? You’re the most reliable of my devoted, and you have access to the places you’ll need to look,” Thayron said. I stopped on the trail and faces him.

“I want something in return. I refuse to undo your mess without some sort of payment,” I demanded. Thayron smirked, crossing his arms and resting his chin against his hand.

“This is why I like you Verr Sya,” he began. “You’re not afraid to tell me anything. Now, what would you like in return?”

“I want to see my mom,” I said.

He blinked and looked aside. “I’ve told you, I don’t have…”

“Did I stutter, Thayron?” I stared at him, frowning slightly. “In return for the Spear, you will let me meet my mom. I won’t agree to anything less.” Thayron sighed and shook his head, probably cursing me in his mind.

“Fine, I will find your mother and let you see her if you find and return my Spear,” Thayron finally breathed. “Is that a worthy trade for your effort?”

I nodded and continued to walk. Thayron fell into step beside me again. “I will require transportation to wherever you believe it is, though. Could you give me more information?”

“How familiar are you with the inhabitants of Zepheral?” Thayron asked. I shook my head, recognizing the name.

“Oh absolutely not! You’re suggesting a Werin stole your Spear? They’re barely capable of fighting themselves, let alone accessing Torii!” The Fendooren brother race of the Werins were deplorable characters. “You can’t possibly think of sending me there, do you have any idea what they do to their women?”

Thayron nodded, his expression somber. “I am well aware, but you are not a Werin girl raised to believe that is her place. You’re the Fendooren princess. I know you wouldn’t let such a fate befall you. Haven’t you considered that if the Werin people saw a person like you, things could begin to change?” I shook my head. From what Jenderous had said, when that conversation had ever arisen, I knew that the Werins were barbaric at best, and mortal hellspawn at worst.

“What those people need is a Cleanse of their own,” I spat. “They are uncivilized, dangerous, violent, demeaning unevolved bastards! Why would I ever aide them?”

“I’m not asking that you aide them, I’m asking you to go there to look for the Spear. Surely you could tolerate with the existence of the Werins in order to meet your mother, right? Besides, it’s not like the Werins are the only ones on Zepheral. If you really want to, you could spend all of your time with the other inhabitants,” Thayron chidded. “Anyway, I will have someone help you reroute your… Uh… What do you call those things?” I tilted my head and raised an eyebrow. “Those things you use to go to other planets.”

“You mean the Astral Travelers?” He nodded. “I need to reroute it?”

“To Zepheral, yeah. I presume they never taught you how to add new coordinates, right?” For as much as he lacked in knowledge of what happened to the Fendoorens after the Calamity, he had that right. For some reason, my brother and I had never been taught how to set our own coordinates. I had figured that it was because neither of us were technicians or researchers.

“No, I haven’t the faintest idea of how to do that,” I replied. “What should I do before that?”

“I would see if you could get any information on Zepheral from your information hubs. Also, maybe seek some advisement from your brother. Don’t tell him about the Spear though. Just ask him about Zepheral, he might remember the politics from before the Calamity,” Thayron advised. I bit my lip, thinking of how I could possibly get anyone in the information hub to give me access to anything. “In two days, head to the hanger of your Astral Traveller, alright?” After I nodded, Thayron snapped his fingers, and disappeared before my eyes.

I made my way back towards the station, and saw the group from earlier. I noticed that the girl was wearing the coat that identified those who worked in the information hub. As I walked past, I saw Calyn kiss the girl, a universal sign of mateship. I smiled slightly as I realized I might’ve just found how to get the information I needed.

#immortality keys #excerpt #excerpt from my book

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