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theladyismyshepard · 8 months

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It Ain't Easy Being Green

(How you respond to jealousy)

Shadowheart –

Something awful and uncomfortable gnawed at your gut as you stared up into the endless sea of stars hanging above. Your brow was so creased that you could nearly see your own browline from your peripheral. Your teeth were clenched as you scowled at nothing but your own thoughts. You were being childish, you knew this, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to correct your mood– not when shared laughter out of your line of sight soured your tongue and churned your stomach. You would not think to ruin the merriment by turning into a fuming jackass or becoming physically ill at how close Shadowheart and Karlach were becoming – and fast.

It was hard to believe that your little group of oddities had only been traveling together for not even a full week. Sharing a common trauma bonded people quicker than usual circumstances, and emotions were rawer, prompting people to either shut off completely or open up. Shadowheart was a closed book, one that came with a lock and key, and while the tadpole in your head had been at the forefront of your mind, you also managed to find enough headspace to reserve entirely for the cleric and what might bring a smile to her face. And if you’ve taken to walking a little closer to Shadowheart during your travels? Well, you try to convince yourself that that was no one’s business but your own, but the arch of Shadowheart’s brow and shrug still had you blushing.

Back at the grove, there had been a gaggle of refugee children swarmed just past the merchant, Arron. They had been equipped with wooden swords and placed before training dummies and told to learn how to fight for their lives. It was a heart-wrenching sight, seeing their trembling frowns and unsure footing, and knowing that there was little chance of their survival out on the road to Baldur’s Gate. You were proving fruitless with Kahga, still needing to follow up on a lead, but you would make damn sure to not leave the tieflings with nothing.

You told Shadowheart, Gale, and Lae’zel to disperse for the time being before turning back to the group of kids and even young adults, clapping your hands once to get their attention. For the next few hours, you showed them common techniques and basic footwork, taking the time to charge a dummy with a cleaving attack and demanding the group mirror it, correcting here and there. By the time the sun was beginning to dip to the treelines, your muscles were achy and sweat had dampened your brow. The tieflings were beaming up at you, weapons raised high above their heads as they screamed their accomplishment to the Heavens. They encircled you and were jumping up and down, they were urging you to follow along, and after a moment of consideration, you shrugged and started whooping and jumping in place, smiling at their resulting laughter and excitement.

Your eye just so happened to catch the eye of Shadowheart and you immediately froze. She was wearing an amused smile and her eyes were bright as you regained your composure enough to give a departing word of encouragement before wandering over to her.

“No need to stop on my account, by all means, do continue,” said Shadowheart, her voice thick with amusement and her eyes shining.

“Relishing too long in a victory can be dangerous, you know,”

“Whatever would you be in danger of, pray tell,”

“Of making an ass of yourself,” You muttered, still fighting back the heat scorching your face, and her laughter did nothing to help, nor the glittering of her eyes.

“I found it… rather cute,” hummed Shadowheart, her eyes looking you up and down before she shrugged and turned on her heel, leaving you a floundering mess.

Then you found Karlach. You were the first one to step between Wyll’s blade and Karlach (even though there was no need to, the poor, misguided man immediately acknowledged he was wrong), knowing that the group needed Karlach just as much as she needed the group. She had a sunny personality, spoke her mind, and had a body that even had your eyes subconsciously glancing up and down. She was funny, every word spoke with humor that pulled a laugh out of even Lae’zel, and best of all, she appreciated wine as much as the next weary traveler.

Which was where you found yourself now, sulking on your bedroll alone in your space by your tent. You had pulled your roll out just enough to see the stars. There was wild giggling and cackling laughter as Shadowheart and Karlach shared their spoils of pillaging the blighted town. The two agreed to split whatever wine they had managed to find, and you could hear them standing by their word. Shadowheart had refused to share with the rest of the party, and it made your skin crawl that the only one she allowed in was Karlach.

It wasn’t that you hated Karlach, far from it… It just gave you a headache that it wasn’t your shoulders that Shadowheart wanted to be thrown over. You had never heard Shadowheart speak so highly of you as she had about Karlach. You could barely get more than a couple sentences at a time from Shadowheart, and here Karlach was, pulling laugh after laugh from the woman you were crushing on. And there you were, pouting like a child… Such a contrast from this “hero” role that you keep insisting on filling. What was wrong wi-

“Hey soldier,” boomed a voice that startled you from your reverie, and you found Karlach’s wide smile obscuring your view of the stars, “I knew you weren’t asleep yet! Shadowheart was so worried that you were, but I said to myself, I said, “Karlach, Tav looks too tense to be asleep,” and here you are, wide awake! I knew it.”

“Er…” You trailed off as Shadowheart approached your bedroll just as Karlach did, and she was holding something behind her back.

“Tav…” Shadowheart cleared her throat, her cheeks pink and you were convinced it was from the wine she was consuming. “I was wondering-”

“Welp!” announced Karlach, her arms stretching above her head, her spine arching, and her eyes were closed as she relished in the stretch so she missed the mild glare from Shadowheart. “I’m gonna head to bed now,”

Your eyes were darting back and forth from Shadowheart to Karlach, unsure of what was going on, and the earlier bitterness on the back of your tongue had now vanished, leaving a blazing hope that you weren’t as cast aside as you initially feared. Shadowheart sighed, staring off at nothing while shaking her head before her eyes cut back to meet yours. She offered you a smile before she brought her arms out from behind her back and your attention cut to the wine bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other.

“You’ve been working so hard to help people… to keep hope alive even when the rest of us couldn’t be bothered with it… I think you deserve a drink more than anyone else.”

Your heart fluttered so violently that you were afraid it would either combust or break free from the hold of your rib cage. The toe of her shoe was nervously shuffling the dirt at her feet, a foot from your head, and she looked so beautiful cast in shadows. Her mysterious edge drew you in from the get-go and her obvious reluctance to reveal anything about herself did little to deter you. There was still much to be learned about Shadowheart, her desires, her goals, there were still looks that would flicker across her eyes that you had to familiarize, but in that moment, underneath the stars that reflected off the glasses in her hand, you were more than happy to take it one step at a time.

Lae'zel –

Resignation tasted of ash in your mouth as the final battle with the Netherbrain came to a resonating end as the thrall of its influence silenced once and for all. You felt the initial rush of victory, your emotion too much to contain within your body and without thinking, you pulled Lae’zel into a bruising kiss to seal your success. One hand was still clutching her silver sword, refusing to let it fall to the ground, but the other reached up to tangle her fingers in your hair, keeping you close.

You wanted to live in that moment forever, to capture the contentment and relief you felt and never let it go because you knew deep down that life would continue and it would bring with it new trials that would scar. It wasn’t long before the moment passed and you were spiraling in your own head, filled with thoughts of a future you were almost uncertain you would get to have and whether or not Lae’zel planned on fitting herself into it.

From the moment you met the githyanki, her goals were straightforward: she would do anything and everything she could to purify herself of the parasite and get back to her people to fight another battle across the stars. You’ll always remember the feel of her sharp blade pointed threateningly against the column of your throat when she spotted you first upon the nautiloid, and even more so the flicker of her life across your mind once you two learned of the connection that came with the tadpole. She was born a fighter and your stomach churned when thinking of the tribulations that not only she, but her people had to grow up through.

Lae’zel wore her childhood with pride, and would scold you anytime she felt your sorrow or concern for it. If she was given the chance to do it all again she would, so your pity wasn’t wanted. No matter how many times you tried to convince her it wasn’t pity, it was compassion, she wouldn’t hear of it. Lae’zel was as stubborn as she was strong, and the more you traveled with her, you found that rather than animosity growing between the two of you, you grew comfortable with her presence by your side. You were assured victory of any battle commenced because you knew you had Lae’zel in your party.

What surprised you was the sudden pit in your stomach when the secrecy and distrust shrouding Kith’rak Voss was unraveled and Lae’zel was soon hanging onto his every word in planning to free Orpheus, the Prince of the Comet who would help free their people from Vlaakith’s rule. There were stars in her eyes upon so many promises made, and you practically saw the rift forming between you two rather than just felt it. There was a permanent lump in your throat that you refused to let show as you fought your way down the bloody path that led to Orpheus’ freedom.

Lae’zel earned the ultimate victory and the greatest satisfaction, and her people deserved to have the veil lifted from their eyes. You two were from different worlds, you could not fully comprehend the struggles of her life just as she could not fully comprehend the disturbances of yours… but that mattered not you. Not when there were so many similarities to counter that argument with, like the glaring observation that she was a living being with hopes and dreams just as you were. And you couldn’t fault her hopes and dreams leading her across the universe and back to her own life.

That didn’t stop your frown from scrunching your face when Lae’zel broke the celebratory kiss to turn back to Orpheus with a look of complete adoration that you yourself would’ve reserved just for her. Childish, you’re acting like a fucking baby! No amount of pep talks would fight the jealousy back and your fisted knuckles couldn’t strain any whiter even if the bone were to rip out itself. Your chest was burning because you knew that in the end, Lae’zel would always choose the githyanki over you, and you could never bring yourself to ask her to reconsider. Especially since she had fought with all her might to save your world with you… Why couldn’t you do the same for her?

“My people are leaving… And I must go with them,” said Orpheus, his neck craned up towards the sky as he watched swarm after swarm of red dragons soar across the sky, casting shadows beneath, before screeching forth purple portals that they traversed and disappeared through, “Come, Lae’zel. We will free the githyanki and dismantle the empire. Let them be imprisoned no longer!”

“Your duty is to your people, Lae’zel. Go with Orpheus, and lead them to freedom,” You could hear it was your own voice, but your tongue felt numb and lackluster in your mouth, and she was suddenly looking at you with a new fire in her eye.

“It will be done. I will never be free while my people are still bound by Vlaakith’s chains.”

You couldn’t help the rush of offense you felt at being easily cast aside when she turned back to Orpheus and watched on in fascination as his two dragons, Quulos and Quuthos, responded to his call. Orpheus didn’t hesitate to mount Quulos, his hands grabbing the reins before watching Lae’zel expectantly. She approached Quuthos and hesitated as she turned back to look at you, and you knew instantly that that moment had the potential to be the very last if you were foolish enough to let it.

“You called me Mla’ghir…” You called, taking a few steps forward to ensure she could hear you and wouldn’t leave you behind. “Your people aren’t liberated yet… Allow me to follow and continue aiding you… please,”

Orpheus proved impressed by your bold request, but you were more interested with Lae’zel’s reaction. She wasn’t able to conceal her gasp at your words, and she made no move to hide the tears swelling in her eyes. Her mouth was trying in vain to find something to say, but she was always more of a woman of action, and what better way of expressing herself than by grabbing ahold of the front plating of your armor, and bringing you back into a searing kiss that refused to end, even when Orpheus gave a polite cough.

“Let us ride… together into eternity,”

Minthara –

Your teeth clenched tightly as you battled against your agitation. Your eye twitched as you felt your rationality slipping. You repeatedly told yourself that your anger was justified and that you were in no way envious of the brazen display on the other side of camp.

Wyll, whose tent was adjacent to Mizora’s, had a dumbfounded look on his face as your eyes met before he pointed questioningly at himself. You rolled your eyes and shook your head no, in fact, you were staring at his left where Minthara was seated comfortably next to Mizora. There were nothing but devious looks shared between the two as they whispered amongst themselves. The sly smirks did nothing to ease your mood, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say they were leaning closer together now than when Minthara had first ventured over to the devil’s tent.

The part that made you sick to your stomach was that you could understand just how the two could get closer than the rest of the party. Minthara possessed a thirst for power; Not just over the world, but over you as well. Her wicked laughter never failed to echo behind the misery of the unfortunate souls who had crossed your path, and after a while, you stopped chastising her for it. You wouldn’t admit to her or yourself that it was because her evil chuckle started sending shivers down your spine.

Minthara originally wasn’t too keen on joining your party after you stormed the inner walls of the Goblin Camp, slaughtering Priestess Gut and Dror Ragzlin. You could still feel the cold steel of her blade piercing through your armor before tearing through the flesh of your shoulder even as you gazed upon her now. Minthara proved to be a powerful adversary against your already battle-worn frame, but you could still remember the way she stumbled before her body crashed to the ground. Her chest continued to rise and fall as her lungs forced the air in and out, and you could end it right there… You should…

But you saw something more than desperation shining in her eyes. You saw the fresh tears of fright as she knew deep down that she failed. Deep down she was afraid that if it weren’t to be your blade that cut her down, it would be the one ruling the entire show. Her bottom lip trembled even as she barked orders and cleaved her weapon through the air. Minthara was lashing out like a caged animal, her imposing composure long slipped away, and once Karlach had given the final concussive blow to her head with a warhammer, her wide, frantic eyes finally rolled back.

Even Gale had his magic crackling at his fingertips, ready to give the killing blow if need be, but you placated the party. As you spared her one last look, you couldn’t help but to ponder that she looked a lot smaller and frailer than before. You cursed your heart for constricting at the sight, and ignored the nagging feeling eating away at you with every step you took. She was surrounded by dead comrades, and Astarion looted her weapons and anything of use… Minthara had nothing left and you suspected she had more to fear than just you.

You always felt a rush when you were proven right, and you certainly felt a rush of something when you passed through the Absolute’s Door of Moonrise Towers and stumbled upon the scene of Minthara conscious and swallowed up in oversized clothing that you knew (with a twinge to your heart) she had to scavenge around for. Your eyes cut to Astarion’s body, which was draped in her former armor and you weren’t entirely sure if their relationship would be immediately soured, or soundly built on a foundation of mutual respect. She also wore a look of pure humiliation even as she fought to defend herself, and then Ketheric’s mouth pulled back into a smile so deformed that it could have doubled as a snarl as he gave Z’rell the order to be creative with the Nightwarden’s death.

You knew she had someone higher to answer to… What you weren’t aware of was that it was Ketheric Thorm, in all his cruelness. You felt the varying looks of your party as you made your presence known to the Chosen. You felt the need to speak of her absolute loyalty and how she never swayed, just as you felt the need to descend the stairs to the dungeons below and fight the guards for her freedom. There was a deep appreciation she held for you once the artefact connected her mind with yours and the rest of the party’s, and you felt it just as if it were your own warmth spreading through your chest.

You even found yourself grinning when Minthara then moved to tangle her fingers into the base of Astarion’s ivory locks before tugging his head until his face was mere inches from her own. She had demanded her armor back and the trek back to camp was an interesting one consisting of an also newly-recruited Halsin’s confused glances at Astarion, who was striding confidently in all his half-nudeness. You were soon noticing that when you saved someone’s life, they felt the urge to join your party, and you weren’t complaining when your company looked as great as they did, and even proved useful.

Just because you saved her life didn’t mean her snarky attitude was suddenly displaced and her enjoyment of malicious proclivities was tamed, and for some reason unknown to even you, you found that you wouldn’t have it any other way. She disapproved of your helpful habit of sticking your nose into others’ business and solving their problems for them, but she wouldn’t have you any other way… or so you liked to think.

As your eyes continued to burn holes into Mizora, you didn’t even have enough time to glance away and play cool before Minthara’s eyes cut over to you, her brow arching and her smirk slow-building. You flushed and stared down at your feet, your self-criticism roaring displeasure into your brain. You could practically taste your own bitterness and it wasn’t good at all. You heard of the… nefarious offerings that Mizora had to offer those she deemed worthy of her sexual prowess, and who else would be worthy than the Nightwarden?

“Something the matter, darling?” said Minthara, suddenly standing before you, her smirk very audible, and it only widened into a grin when your neck snapped at attention. “You’ve been watching me for some time now,”

“I was looking at Mizora,” You insisted before grimacing, and her resulting chuckle warmed your face yet again. “I mean-”

“Ah, ah, I’ve caught you, little bird… You were jealous,” Minthara drawled, almost predatorily, and she was soon backing you into your tent, each step slow and methodical. “You looked about ready to claim me.”

“I-”

“Take me then,” commanded Minthara, and when your brain short-circuited, she grabbed your arms and wound them around her shoulders, “If you are bold enough to make me yours, you better be ready for when I make you mine,”

She punctuated the suggestive remark with a nip to the flesh where your neck and shoulder meet, and before your eyes fluttered shut, you caught sight of Mizora grinning wickedly as she watched on.

Gale –

You would never forget the moment Gale opened your mind to the weave and helped you embrace the charged magical aura. It was after saving the Druid camp, and you couldn’t ignore the gleam of approval clear in his eye. The entire camp along with the grove celebrated their victory that night when you approached Gale. Many attempted to stop and talk to you, but at the moment, you only had eyes for the wizard and the way he was smiling softly.

Before that night, you never even thought yourself capable of wielding magic, but he was a great teacher. Gale knew exactly how to set a mood, and you imagined yourself leaning into him and savoring the moment, enjoying the tension of just almost grazing lips before he gently pushed forward and pressed your lips together in a sweet kiss. He pulled back, almost startled himself, and became quite bashful the rest of the evening.

As your affection grew for him, your concern and worry for his condition deepened. You scoured the lands, looting where you could, and accepted all rewards for your assistance in hopes of finding more magical artefacts to help ease the chronic agony that threatened to nearly tear him apart from the inside. With time, it wasn’t enough to satiate the deeply rooted hunger, and Gale realized he wasn’t responding to the magical essence as he once was.

Your sweet Gale, he forced a smile all throughout the pain, even when it tightened the skin around his eyes and mouth with the strain. He had previously shared his fearful insecurity that he was a burden weighed heavily upon you and the group when it came to his addiction to magical artefacts. Even though you tried your best to soothe Gale and reassure him that you seek out the artefacts because you want to help him, that you refused to let him succumb to his chronic pain alone, you could see that he couldn’t bring himself to fully believe in your words. Even the glazed look of satisfaction in his eye after your night of lovemaking wasn’t enough to conceal the insecurity.

Everything came to a halt when the old man Elminster appeared before Gale with a message from Mystra, practically demanding he detonate the malevolent magical orb in his chest in a suicidal act against the Absolute. The goddess suggested it was a means of atonement for what he had done. You argued vehemently on his behalf, and you couldn’t help but to notice that he wasn’t fighting at all. He accepted her word immediately and you couldn’t help but to falter. He wouldn’t look you in the eye at first, but you knew he was processing all of the options before him.

Elminster came with his threatening message, but he also came with a merciful gift. He produced an enchantment on Gale to help ease the task– one that stabilized the orb within his chest, negating the need to consume more magical items. Gale’s shoulders had never looked so light as when he felt the incessant hunger pulling at him finally curbed. He could have dropped to his knees in relief, and you briefly wondered which god he would thank if he did. Would it be Mystra?

The petulant thought burst forth before you could really register it, and you felt selfish for thinking of yourself in a moment that Gale was waiting so long for. For so long, the wizard braced himself with a forced smile for your sake, and now, it was you who was grinning and bearing it for the sake of Gale’s health. You supported him through his mission of searching for The Annals of Karus and all the secrets it contained, and you stood by his side when Elminster appeared yet again with another message from Mystra.

Gale was a storm-wracked boat that was crashing against the rocky face of turmoil upon his former goddess’ request to meet her at her shrine. You were thoughtful enough to assume his inner struggle didn’t consist entirely of previous feelings and devotions to Mystra– His very soul was always a step away from being in question, and his life was a very complex puzzle that you kept at, even when it puzzled you, and you couldn’t act as though you could fully relate.

However, as Gale’s lover, you couldn’t help the small part of you that was fearful that he would slip back into his old mindset. You were afraid that he would happily kill himself just because Mystra asked it of him, leaving you behind to mourn his loss as his soul rested easily with her. With each time he looked to you, your smile grew more and more strained as you bit your tongue. Every time her name left his lips, your smile would twitch into a near-grimace before smoothing away entirely. Everything you did was slowly shifting in the direction of his sake… Everything he did seemed to be in the name of Mystra these days, and it weighed heavily on your chest.

Everything seemed one step away from breaking once the Netherbrain was weakened to the point of desperate bargaining. It spoke of even the most unspeakable of power it could grant using the Crown of Karus, and you could feel the call reaching home in the wizard beside you. Gale’s face was always expressive and you soon caught on to what he was thinking or feeling by a certain look that so much as flickered across his features. He turned to you imploringly, already seeking an answer before the question even formed in his mouth.

“This is our chance… Mystra-”

“Forget Mystra!” Even you were surprised by your outburst, but you’d be damned if you didn’t take the opportunity for what it was, “You don’t need to appease her, not anymore, my love,”

“I’m not-”

“I feel like I’m slowly losing you to her, like you’re wanting to go back to what you used to have once you give her the crown.” You admitted, and Gale instantly took you into his arms, holding you tight enough to leave no room for doubt between the two of you.

“Don’t worry about it, soldier, we got it from here, yeah?” called Karlach, waving her arm above her head dramatically even though she knew neither of your attention was on her.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” He choked, his shame bleeding through your connection one last time. “I would never trade your love for what once was… She cursed me to die a horrific death and to bring with those around me. She hated me with a passion, and after what felt like an eternity of isolation, I felt as though I could slip away and let go at any moment… But in my time of basking in your love and adoration, I’ve come to realize it feels purer than even Mystra’s.”

You opened your mouth to cut in, to say something, but Gale was quick to beat you to the punch, silencing everything but a gasp with a promising kiss. It was one of apology, to make up for the insecurity he had put you through, but it was also a kiss that banished any doubt from your mind, and with one last quiver through your connection before the Netherbrain fell, you felt a sense of mutual peace and trust between the two of you.

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seetangus · 4 months

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Survivor - Azula x reader

[masterlist]

Azula x gn reader, no warnings

2.113 words

The story is by @darkprince1110 who has the original version published on their account :)

Enjoy!

The fire nation is no place for weaklings. Either you are strong enough to care for yourself, or you aren't. And if you aren’t, nobody will help you.

You had learnt this lesson very early in your life as your parents, who were too poor to feed you, had abandoned you. So in your case, ‘caring for yourself’ meant stealing what you needed to eat for the day.

You ran quickly through the narrow streets. You knew every turn by heart; you had used these streets many times before to evade your pursuers, just like today. The merchant you had relieved from some of his stock was fast though. Faster than the others. You could hear his screaming come closer: “MY CABBAGES!” echoed through the streets louder with each time.

Stressed, you took another turn. Your only chance of getting away was to lose him in the hustle of the main street. As the narrow side streets you had run through were rarely illuminated and not much sunlight reached the bottom of them, you were blinded for a moment when you stepped into the radiant sunlight of the main street. But, much to your misfortune, you kept running. Right into a coach that slowly made its way through the masses of people on the street.

You fell to the ground, dropping the cabbages you had carried. You noticed the coach was bearing the sign of the royal palace. And you heard the cabbage salesman coming closer. This was it, you were done for; nobles did not usually look forgivingly upon thieves like you.

The curtain that seperated the nobles in the coach from the commoners on the street was drawn back. Two elderly women looked down on you. They were twins. They quickly understood the situation when the cabbage merchant, still screaming, came into their sight and started gathering the cabbages you had stolen, while constantly talking about you being a thief.

You did not dare to look up at the women and were silent because you feared begging for forgiveness would only worsen your punishment. Much to your surprise though, you heard the sound of coins being handed over and then the merchant’s complaints went silent. You were puzzled - did the noblewomen just pay him??

You were quickly pulled away from your thoughts as the women began talking to you, saying sentences alternately like they shared the same brain:

What is your name?

“Y/N, your highness.”

Do you not have a last name?

Or a family?

“No.”

Oh that is tragic.

Come with us.

We are Lo.

And Lee.

And we will make sure you do not have to steal again.

The last sentence, that somehow seemed like both a threat and an offer, they said in perfect unity, making you shudder. However it was clear that you had to come with them, and a little part of you was very curious about them and what they had planned.

You felt weird when entering their coach. You had never been surrounded by such wealth. Hell, you had never even been in a coach! The noblewomen sat on the opposite side and smiled at you the whole ride. The many wrinkles on their faces made them look like they had been smiling their entire lives. They began asking you questions like what food you liked, what were your favourite colours and clothing types. Most of the questions you could not answer because you had never had the opportunity to eat anything but what you could gather on the streets and wear anything but what you found there.

If you do not know what you like

We will have to try everything.

You didn’t know if you were supposed to laugh because while trying ‘everything’ was entirely impossible, Lo and Lee did not look like they were joking.

Arriving in what seemed to be their home you were completely overwhelmed. Golden ornaments covered every wall and every ceiling and the floor was covered in expensive carpets who bore masterfully crafted embroidery that depicted old legends of the fire nation.

Servants greeted Lo and Lee when they entered the house and Lo and Lee quickly gave them orders to prepare a room for you.

A little bit later you were guided into that room. It was a bedroom with a giant bed and on it laid what was probably the most expensive pajamas you could ever have dreamt of.

It is late now.

And tomorrow is going to be an exhausting day.

You need to sleep.

If you are hungry or need anything else

Just ring that bell.

Only now you noticed the bell that laid on the small bedside table. You thanked Lo and Lee and when they left you put on the pajamas.

You didn’t think that you could sleep that night out of excitement but when you laid down in that big, fluffy bed, it was almost impossible not to fall asleep immediately.

< • ◇ • >

When you woke up, Lo and Lee sat beside your bed.

Good morning

We hope you slept well

Now choose one of these robes

You have to be dressed appropriately for breakfast

You could not believe your eyes. In your room, there were countless robes that looked like the ones fire nation nobility wears. Lo and Lee really had not been joking when they said you had to try everything; it seemed like they had brought the whole stock of the fire lord’s tailor to your room.

You really could not decide, but as you did not want to wait, you quickly chose the robe with relatively little gold as it seemed to be the most fitting for you, regarding where you came from.

So humble

So modest

And yet such good taste

You will make a good appearance

You were handed fitting underwear and, once you had put that on, servants helped you enter the robe.

Then you were guided to the dining room. You were amazed by the many kinds of food displayed on the table and couldn’t take your eyes off them. And all of it tasted heavenly!

< • ◇ • >

This really felt like a dream. In the following weeks your whole life changed drastically; you were taught proper etiquette and Lo and Lee showed you around the upper class of the fire nation; all your wishes were fulfilled in the blink of an eye and after some time Lo and Lee even told you they wanted to adopt you. You were perplexed but at the same time filled with joy. Words couldn’t describe how happy you were that day.

When you ate dinner that evening you still were so excited you paid less attention to your surroundings than usual. And that had consequences. With one thoughtless movement, you knocked over a candle in a way that it fell on your hand and the hot wax spilled on your skin. Lo and Lee were shocked, and you expected to feel pain, but there was none.

Silence occurred as everyone tried to figure out what was going on. With a subconscious movement of your hand, you had redirected all the flame and heat from the candle to another candle standing next to it, almost burning it entirely. All the wax that covered your hand was completely cold.

You had been too focused on the candle to notice what you had just done, but Lo and Lee immediately knew what had happened.

How interesting

How useful

Excellent

Y/N, you are a firebender.

< • ◇ • >

This discovery brought even more change to your life. Lo and Lee spared no expense to get the best firebending teachers of the entire Fire Nation to teach you.

Contrary to Lo and Lee, who were sure you were talented, you were very unsure whether this firebending stuff was truly something you were good at. You were very motivated and trained hard but if you were honest, you did not think you could properly learn it.

Sadly you were correct. Teacher after teacher tried to get you to understand the movements, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t do it. Lo and Lee, knowing much about Firebending themselves, also tried to teach you, but not even they succeeded in teaching you anything more than the basic movements.

Starting at your age is hard

But you can still learn to firebend

A strong flame burns inside you

We need to find someone who can teach you to gain control of that flame.

. . .

There might be someone.

She has never teached anyone

But she is the best firebender you will ever have an opportunity to work with

Lo and Lee led you to their carriage and ordered the coachman to drive you to the inner buildings of the royal palace. You arrived at the building in which the Firelord himself lived - you were overwhelmed by awe only looking at the outside of the building, and the inside did not impress you any less. Everything was covered in gold and expensive red fabrics. Whom would Lo and Lee take you to? Did the royal family have any firebending trainers they wanted you to be teached by too?

You made your way to the training grounds of the palace. You could hear that someone was intensly firebending there. When you arrived, your gaze was immediately drawn to the person training: it was princess Azula.

Your eyes followed all her movements - it was a fascinating sight - and a beautiful one. When she jumped through the parcour, she swirled through the air as if she possessed wings and when she shot at targets she casted the brightest blue flames seemingly effortlessly. You could have watched her all day. When Lo and Lee drew Azula's attention to you, she came towards you with just a few jumps and landed in front of you, looking you directly in your eyes. She looked even better this close - you almost fainted.

Also, she showed no sign of exhaustion at all. It was as if she had just gotten up from a good rest and not from her parcour. You were very stressed; you knew you should bow, but she stood so close that you would collide if you did. So you simply tried greeting her.

You opened your mouth and your voice wouldn’t come. You cleared your throat and tried a second time: “Princess Azula, I am honored to meet you.” You were avoiding to look into her eyes and your face became red.

Azula smirked. “You should be. Not everyone gets the chance to witness me firebend.” Her voice hit you like a rock. It was beautiful! You heard your heart beat faster and you could have sworn Azula heard it too, given how loud it was. You dared looking up at her eyes and you would have gotten lost looking in them if Lo and Lee hadn’t interrupted you.

We are honored to meet you again too, Azula

May we introduce y/n to you?

“Ah, y/n.” Azula looked at you again, you desperately tried not to look back too intensely. “Now, y/n, what brings you - or rather why do Lo and Lee bring you here?”

Lo and Lee answered in your place:

It is your firebending we want to talk about, Azula

You have learnt and perfected all there is to learn

By that you have earnt the right to teach someone yourself

We think that y/n will be a good first apprentice for you

And a challenging one.

Something in Azula’s eyes lit up. “Challenging, you say?”

Many other teachers have tried to teach y/n

But all of their efforts did not bear fruit

If you can bring y/n to firebend, you will certainly have proven you are not only a perfect bender but also the best teacher of this nation

That was all Azula needed to hear. Of course she was the best firebending master, and now she would prove it.

“I accept you as my disciple, y/n. Training starts tomorrow when the sun rises. I will make you firebend, no matter what it takes - and I expect to see quick progress from you. As long as you are trained by me, failure is not an option and perfection is the only way. Understood?”

You nodded: “Yes, Princess Azula.”

Azula intimidated and fascinated you at the same time, and you knew it was the chance of your life if you ever were to learn firebending.

You and Azula looked at eachother, and it was clear that you would not disappoint her, no matter how hard the training was.

You are a survivor.

#azula x reader #atla #atla x reader #azula #azula x y/n #atla azula #azula avatar #azula x gn reader #x reader #avatar the last airbender #avatar imagine

64 notes · View notes

smuttyaf · 11 months

Text

SouthSide Serpent

Word Count: 4.8k

Rating: R

features; childhood friends to lovers, loverboy ashton, literally ashton has been pining for y/n, & sum good old smut :)

a/n: idek what to say but hi! i’ve been in retirement for like 4 years and rediscovered this account. i got nostalgic & decided… shit why not write again?

please cut me sum slack tho! i wrote this on my notes app & it’s been years since i’ve written so i would love to hear feedback!

& yes i am hella descriptive and like to build suspense! i can’t help it >.<

also! y/n is heavily based on serena from mtv downtown ( i love her ) & this picture of ashton ( xx )

The crisp October breeze blew through your hair as the dull taste of your cigarette burns on your tongue; your forefinger and middle finger clenching the nicotine filled paper and pressing it against your lips, drawing in the vapour.

Your head nods along to the music playing before you just two doors down on the opposite side of your street. There was Ashton and his band, either playing covers of their current favourite songs, oldies, or new ones that they’ve all come together and created.

The usual guitar flow and drum beat of Maps by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs blasted through the speakers in the garage as the sound of Luke’s voice sang along on top of the tune.

You hum along to the lyrics as you glared in the direction, your lips peeling away from the filter and letting the smoke settle in your lungs before releasing it. The four boys were all dressed in their usual attire: white shirt, black trousers, beat up old chunky Doc Martins, and their signature SouthSide Serpents leather jackets.

As the wind picks up again you let your free hand tear away from your windowsill and tug the flying strays of your hair in front of your face behind your ear, the chipped black polish on your almond nails coming into view as you remind yourself you needed to get them done.

The bridge of the song is now blaring down the street, causing you to raise your cigarette back to your lips and think to yourself, what a coincidence this song is playing; the lyrics, the time frame, and the memories that all come flowing back as you hear the familiar melody.

It was 2009 and Ashton had invited you over during Christmas break to play Garage Band since Santa gifted it to him because that was the only thing he asked for on his wish list. You were both 8, banging on the drums and singing songs that you both were too young to know or remember from when your parents would play them on the drive home from school. But, for some reason this is the song that stuck with you both the most. Maybe it was the easy lyrics or the amazing beat but from then on it had you hooked to this alternative sound.

Now fast forward to a year ago, your now ex boyfriend Xavier was laying on your bed, finger pads heavy weight on your skin as he drew sloppy hearts on your hip. The wire of the headphones tangled between your shoulder and his wrist as you both listened to his playlist. The familiar intro notes to the song beginning to ring throughout the buds and the tug of your maroon lined lips turn into a smile.

“Already like the song?” He asked, brown eyes rested on top of dark circles scattered with freckles as he smirked down at you.

“I love it.” You sheepishly said.

The wind knocks you back into reality as it pushes through your window again, only making you remember how much you loved October; the weather changing, leaves blooming, smell of the rain just before it hit the concrete, the sound of the leaves dragging along the pavement, and the endless horror movie marathons that would run on AMC.

The orange, brown, and green leaves spin in the breeze and rustle along the branches as the sun stood brightly among the houses along the horizon. From your view on the windowsill you can see houses upon houses before you see the local water tower and old plazas that scream they need new merchant signs and fresh cement.

Your eyes flick to the lonesome string popping out of your black long sleeve before the sound of your phone’s text tone goes off, your eyes darting to the message running across the screen.

Stop watching me

Ashton’s text read, making you roll your eyes before placing them on the dark hair boy who had a goofy grin on his face from your view, his drum sticks were stuffed in one had and the other held his lit up phone.

With a smile on yours, you let the hand that rested in the crook of your neck tear away from the warm flesh and your middle finger stand in the air as a response.

Clothes were thrown in every direction of your room as you let your eyes drag along your frame in the mirror, your loose knitted black sweater hung off one of your shoulders as low waisted charcoal jogging pants rested on your hips. Your hair was in its loose waves as your curtain bangs swept against your temples, your fingers curling into themselves in frustration as you tried to not stress over how you look.

You didn’t want to over enhance your appearance to see Xavier since he wanted to meet up to get “closure” -even though he was the one who called it off despite your many pleas- but you wanted to make him feel bad for even deciding to drop you.

A frustrated sigh left your wine stained lips before turning around and sticking your feet into your ruined Converse. The low muffled sound of Xavier’s Prelude is heard out your window and you feel your heart drop.

You never understood why you always felt this way about him and why you couldn’t just get over this stupid boy who likes to break up with you every other month, a new reason every single time. The constant tears, text threads, and blocking to unblocking seemed to never get exhausting to you because you were always back in the same place, wondering if you overdressed to see your ex for closure.

The chime of Xavier’s specific text tone rings through your room and you already know what it says, so without checking you twisted your foot into your shoe to fit perfectly before you reach over and grasp your phone in your hand and tug your way to the window sill. Fingers pressing the frame up and letting the fall air sweep into your room before crouching down and fitting yourself through the frame and safely scale down the roof, onto the sturdy vine wall filled with dead clematis that prickled on your palms the way down before your feet landed on the short cut grass.

As you turned away from the wall and begin tugging your feet towards the black coupe, your eyes catch on the tall frame standing on their front step as an amber light glows slightly illuminating his face. You already know this is Ashton, so with a slight smile you let your index finger rest against your coated lips, a gesture to him to be quiet.

The only response he gives is his head nodding off to the side with smoke trailing out of his mouth.

The smile quickly falls as your fingers clench the car door handle and tug it open, the smell of him crashing down on you as you sit in the familiar leather, the hum of the engine vibrating under you as the car peels off.

The tinge of tequila burned on your buds as you felt the room spinning, the sound of chatter and shouts are heard from below you as the bass of Destroy Lonely’s song can be heard in the room you barged into when you gave up on waiting for Tabitha; who said she wouldn’t be long with the curly haired new kid in her history class.

Red solo cup was loosely clenched in your right hand as left was lazily running through your hair at random moments as you laid against the cottage floral bed sheets.

Here you were, back in the same spot you always found yourself in: drunk, heartbroken, and thinking about a boy who doesn’t even care about you. The constant routine of wanting him, then wanting to be far away but craving him every other second burned into your heart. The comfort and familiarity of him that you missed always overlooked every excuse he gave you whenever he broke things off.

Last month he said he needed time to himself, this month he told you that he was confused and didn’t know what he wanted; frankly he lost feelings for you, at least that was what he says now. Those words kept on replaying in your mind as if that was your favourite song. The way he sounded emotionless yet unsure that, that was what he really wanted.

And just with those thoughts, tears were flowing down your temples. Eyes blurring as the voice replayed in your head, the memory of him sitting beside you and saying that, to then recollect memories of how sweet and endearing the boy you loved in the beginning grew cold to your touch and looked into your hopeful eyes with detached ones.

The popcorn ceiling was fuzzy in your sight as the tears spill over your waterline and beads down the sides of your face. You already knew your cheeks were heated up, the liner and eyeshadow that was occupying your bottom lashes was smudged and probably slipping away with the liquid as a sniffle wrinkled through your nose.

God you hated this; the empty feeling of missing someone who you know you shouldn’t want but yet crave so badly. Why him? Why you?

As you were deep in thought you hear the rustle of the door knob before it turns and the music that pours from outside reaches into the empty depths of the room, the sound of footsteps halting and a sharp intake of breath being heard, but you don’t dare look away at the ceiling. Frankly, you could care less about who sees you crying your eyes out on this outdated duvet with ruined make up.

“Fuck my bad!… Wait Y/N?” The recognizable voice of your childhood friend is heard before the door is closing shut.

The weight of him sinks next to you on the bed as you let your eyes close and the final stream of tears leave your eyes.

“I look desperate don’t I.” You state, voice raspy from the strain in your throat as the usual feeling of a ball is formed.

“I think you look sad,” He points out, making you snort as the hand that was lazily playing in your hair tears away and feels the sheet below you.

“No shit,” You mumble before letting your eyes peel open.

“You and Xavier broke up again?” Ashton questions, the sound of his zippers clashing from his jacket as he shuffles around.

You only hum in response before you let both of your arms sit you up on the bed, your back standing straight as your hands cradle the solo cup. Your eyes stare down at your ruined pantyhose beneath your mini lace black skirt before they flicker to look at the hazel boy.

Eyes connecting with yours, you hear his breath hitch as he draws in your appearance. Cheeks with a glow of cherry red sweeping the bones under your eyes that are damp with black eyeshadow, your eyes were still puffy and red rimmed as they batted slowly up at him.

“He doesn’t know what he wants,” You let out, your eyes rolling before letting your plum coloured lips take a sip of the warm mixture of Pepsi and tequila.

“Oh?” He says in confusion, bushy eyebrows coming together trying to figure out how that could be since he saw you two together three nights ago.

“I’m so sick of being with these screwed up guys all the time,” You state, hand tearing away from the cup to dig your nails into the rips of your stockings.

“Really?”

“I have such crummy luck or taste? What is it with girls like me? All a guy has to say is, he can’t express his feelings or he listens to Deftones and it’s like my head tips right over and my brain start to slip out of my ear.”

Ashton lets out laugh, the beer bottle he’s holding by the neck resting on his knee as he stares down at you. “So which one is Xavier?”

“Both,” You scoff while sticking out your tongue in disgust.

“You know… if you wanted to, I’m sure you could have a different great guy to go out with every night,” Ashton assures, a smirk tugging on your lips as you decide to ignore the glint of promise in his eyes.

“No way, I’ve always been a mess. Remember Cleo?” Your second boyfriend that seemed to be stuck on your hip but ironically found someway to cheat on you every weekend yet you still dumbly went back to him every. single. time.

The feeling of your sheer button up rubs against your arm as you let your hand fall against your hip and feel your black crop top tight to your skin.

“Maybe you just need to talk to someone who isn’t your usual type,” Ashton points out. Your head nods a few beats as your thick wedged heeled boots run over the wooden flooring.

“Maybe I’ll be luckier if I tried dating someone nice for a change,” Voice hopeful as your eyes dart away from the bubbly dark liquid into Ashton’s brown hues.

“Nice guys,” Ashton says with a smile, both of his hands tearing away from his knees as if to gesture to himself in this equation.

A laugh escapes your lips before your eyes run over Ashton’s frame from head to toe.

“What are you getting at Irwin?” You say with a pointed brow, playing stupid to the implication.

“Oh nothing..” He sings while tearing his eyes from yours, toothy smile still spread on his lips before he takes a swing of his beer.

You shake your head with annoyance before your hazy eyes look down at your lap, your hands resting on the cup and drumming a random tune.

“Honestly Y/N… I think you’re a really great girl and…. I just think maybe…” His words a scrambled mess and trailing off. You smile to yourself before turning to look back at him.

“Mm?” You question, the fifteen percent liquor coursing through your bloodstream and giving you confidence as you lean into this chest, eyes never tearing away from his. Because if Ashton was going to give you hopeful eyes and stuttering speeches you might as well put the ‘nice guy’ to the test and see if he was really about what he said.

That only made his lips break into a smirk, his tongue sneakily gladding along his bottom lip to wet it before looking into you daringly.

That only made you squish your plucked eyebrows together in question. How did the stuttering boy from just a view seconds ago all of a sudden turn cocky and confident? How many drinks did he have? Or was it the weed that clung to his jacket that gave him the boost.

“I think you should give me a chance,” He nips back, and before you can even respond to him, you watch his neck crane down and press his lips against yours.

The crisp taste of his beer stung your lips as they opened and immediately danced along with his tongue. White liquor and brown meeting together to taste each other and leave an acquired flavour in your mouths.

You hummed along to the feeling of his tongue circling against yours before peeling away and molding your lips to sink against each other. Your heart was beating through your chest, nails now digging into your plastic cup and head ducked back as you continue to press your mouth against his.

The feeling of his cold hand pressing against your neck caused you to shudder and tear away from his lips for a second, your eyes peeling open as they look in front of you. Black hair loosely falling on his forehead, the smell of his husky cologne clogging your senses, and the feeling of his fingers now dancing along the back of your neck.

“What are we doing Ash?” You breathe against his lips.

“Something that I’ve always wanted to do,” He says, making your heart launch. You bite down on your bruised lip and tear your eyes away from his, your stomach twist as you try and gain some self control as you almost fling yourself on top of him.

Something that he always wanted to do? You never really found yourself desirable to the point we’re men would see you in that type of light? But maybe what Ash said was just a simple lie, just so he can get what he wants and frankly you don’t even care. You’ve heard lies your whole entire life when it came to boys and this wasn’t any different, maybe you should just let your mind shut off from your stupid ex and just be in the moment for once.

So with that final thought, not having a care in the world, you drop the red cup in your hand and let your lips launch back onto his. Ashton follows your movements and the sound of the nearly empty beer bottle drops onto the hard wood, his right hand now resting along your neck as you both kiss each other.

Warm breaths, beating hearts and the sound of music is the only thing heard in the room as you lick into each others mouths. Soon you feel the weight of Ashton nudging you to lay back on the bed as he lies on top, you feel the cold zippers from his jacket press against your skin and all you can do is moan.

The feeling of his left hand tears away from the hairs on the nape of your neck and dance down your collar bone before letting it cup your breast in his hand, kneading the soft tissue which only makes another moan slip through you.

He pulls away from your lips and begins to suck and press kisses along your pulse, your hands that lie by your side now running up the sleeves of his jacket and into his hair.

A whimper spills out as you feel his hand tug your tank down and free your naked breast, he engulfs it in his cold palm making you let a shaky breath escape before you’re curling your fingers in his hair, the feeling of him twisting your nipple makes you bite down on your bottom lip. The pleasurable pain you feel running up your spine making your shoulders slightly buck off the bed.

“Hmm…” Ashton hums in your neck before tearing away, his eyes once such a light brown and green hue, now a chestnut and forest green colour filled with lust.

Your fingers tug away from his hair as he now descends down your body, his warm lips pressing kisses to your exposed skin as you let your hands tear your blouse and tank off. Your eyes never leaving his as he watches you undress. His lips now press against your pieced belly button as his fingers tear away from your chest and roughly takes your skirt by the band and peels it down your hips, your stockings following soon after.

Not wasting a moment he lets his mouth press against you covered core, lips pressing small kisses against your heat making you quietly moan. You wanted so desperately to tug Ashton into you and make him start devouring you right there but instead you let your hands trail back into his hair and play around with his locks.

Small kisses soon turn into open mouth licks, his wet muscle running up and down your clothed slit that it had your head digging back into the sheets, your legs spreading wider and whimpers endlessly trailing out.

“Ash.. please..” The words slip out so quiet that you assume he didn’t hear from the pulsing music below you, but instead your met with the feeling of his finger pulling your panties to the side and his tongue finally meeting you were you desired.

It circles around your clit gently before you feel his lips suck it into his mouth, a moan drawls from your throat due to the sensation. Soon enough, he’s letting his mouth discover the way you taste which only elects a moan from him. His tongue now dipping in between your two lips and curling around your insides.

“Oh my,” You moan as your fingers dig into his hair, eyes closing shut as you begin to slowly move your hips to the movement of his tongue.

The feeling of his right hand breaks away from your thigh and flows to your hips, his nails leaving small indents as you feel his other hand move away from your panty and rub against your clit.

The feeling of him humming against you sends a vibrating pleasure down your back as he continues to lick you, this only made your toes curl and your hands to fall out of his hair and onto his leather shoulders.

“Fuck,” You moan, your hands tugging him gently away from you as you feel your climax about to overcome your nerves.

And just as you feel it on the tip of your toes, the mouth between your legs pulls away beginning to press wet kisses up your thigh, his hand that once laid against your heat now meeting with the other at your hips.

A groan leaves you as your eyes tear open and look down at him. He mischievously looks up at you, his kisses now run up your stomach once again to lead to your neck.

“Upset?” He teases, only making you shudder at the rasp in his voice.

“I want you Ash,” You say breathlessly, turning your head to knock his out the way and look him in the eyes. “Please,” You utter, fingers now leaving his shoulders and brushing against his rip cage covered by his white tee.

Without any hesitation, Ashton is pulling away from your embrace and leaning back. He shrugs off his jacket, tugs his shirt over his head, his fingers going to the back of his baggy jeans to pull out his wallet to dig through before you see a gold package flash. If your cheeks could burn any brighter they differently would.

The mixture of his clothes and yours are strung through out the room, both of your shoes kicked to the bottom of the bed as he now shuffles his way back up to his original position.

Without question your hand meets the band of his boxers as you begin to inch them down his waist, wanting to return the favour.

“I think that can wait love, I rather be in you right now,” He breathes against your neck, only making your heart stutter. A sheepish smile tugs at your lips as you feel him twist around and lay on his side, his hands laying on your hips, turning you into the same position.

Your head rested on his arm as your back laid against his chest, hips aligned with each other as the feeling of his smell overcomes you. His knees prop up your legs as you hear the tearing of the condom package.

Deciding to distract yourself you let your eyes fall looking at Ashton. His black hair a tossed mess from your fingers, hazel eyes drawn to wear you both meet as he begins to run his member against your heat.

A whimper leaves your lips as you close your eyes when you feel him push inside, his hand now propping up your thigh as he eases into you.

He nudges your head forward and begins sucking kisses down the expanse of your neck, the feeling of his heart beating against your back and the smell of his sweat mixed with his cologne was filling your nose.

“Feels so good,” He mumbles against your skin, his arm that rested under your head turning slightly as he runs his hand against your wrist and takes your fingers into his, lacing them together as you continue to feel him stretch you out.

You never expected Ashton to have a thick piece but you also didn’t expect to be in this exact position right now, literally. Your childhood friend having his way with you while you were both drunk off each other and the alcohol in your systems.

His hips meet your backside before drawing back and pushing back in, your walls expanding with each thrust as you feel him begin a good pace. Moans begin to fall from your mouth, your eyes fluttering open every few seconds as your skin burns from the bruises soon to appear on your pulse from the black haired man beside you, skin still stuck to his lips.

“You’re moans are so pretty,” He breathes against you, his hand that was holding up your thigh runs up your hips to your chest, letting your leg fall as he takes one of your breasts and squeezes it gently.

All you can do is hum at his words because you’re too overstimulated to speak. The feeling of his thickness drawing in and out of you so heavily has you nodding off at the sensation, his fingers intertwined with yours beings to squeeze them together as the hand that was on your breast meets with his head at your neck.

“You like me fucking you,” He says into your ear as his hand squeezes your throat gently.

You nod your head as you feel your eyes slip close, and you were completely wrecked. He was so dirty yet gentle with you, peppering you with kisses yet digging into you so devilishly that it had your mind distraught.

“You like the way I feel inside you,” He continues, his hand growing more tight around your throat.

“Ash…” You say breathlessly, as your hand that rested against the bed sheets rises up and places it against the one making you breathless but encouraging your climax.

“Mm I like the way you feel around me,” He eggs on, and that makes you cry out, your back pushing pack and meeting his hips.

The feeling of your stomach twitching and legs quivering to close makes your head tip back even more against Ashton as you feel your orgasm on the brink.

That has him taking his hand away from your throat and slips it to lift your thigh back up as he continues to thrust into you, his lips press more kisses against your neck.

Your toes curl as the knot in your stomach expands and releases, the satisfying sensation washing over you as you let a deep breath break through your lips with a moan.

“Fuck,” Ashton hisses as he feels you twitch around him, the contractions from your high throwing him into his; his hips stutter before rocking back into you slowly, teeth gently digging into your skin, his breath being blown over the expanse of it.

The thickness of him slips out which causes your eyes to open, his hand dropping your thigh to wrap around your hips as his head buries into your neck.

The room is quiet for a moment as the only thing that can be heard is your hearts calming down and the chatter from down below.

“I would give you more kisses but I’ve made a mess on your neck,” His voice vibrates against you, that only makes you let out a broken laugh.

“I don’t even wanna know what it looks like,” You reply, your hand that rested on the duvet linking with his that rest along your stomach.

This felt nice, the amazing sex and cuddling session after. The room just being quiet and the only thing that can be heard is your breaths and beating hearts. This was so spontaneous that you still can’t even wrap your mind around what happened.

“How would you feel about doing this more often?” Ashton says after a few minutes, his chest moving as he pulls his head away from your neck to lie back against the pillows.

Having casual sex with him? You ponder on the idea. It was definitely one of the best you have ever had, he felt amazing and checked off every box when it came to how to please you. You couldn’t even lie and say that you didn’t find Ash attractive, you are also now officially single, free to due what we you wanted, so fuck it.

“Like… Friends with benefits?” You say, your thumb running against his hand still linked with yours by your head.

“Yeah, friends with benefits,” He confirms.

You let your head swish from side to side as you feel the burning sensation of his love bites strain against your neck as you let out a sarcastic hum to yourself as if you’re thinking it over.

“I wouldn’t mind that.”

72 notes · View notes

hulhudhonado · 2 years

Text

The Moment They Fell For You (2)

Note: I actually planned on writing all the Sumeru characters in one post but I thought it was getting a bit long. So I decided to split them instead. Also I think people do not write enough fanfic for the female characters. I did not proof read this at all. Sorry if it's not up to standard. Enjoy.

CW: None

HC: Reader is gender neutral and does not have a vision.

Characters: Cyno, Nilou

Cyno

You had known the General Mahamatra ever since you both studied in the Akademiya together. You watched him surpass you and your colleagues, rising to the ranks to where he is now. You watched in awe and also ashamed of yourself for not being able to keep up to his level. However times had passed and now you too were a scholar teaching amongst the rest in Akademiya.

While most tended to to go down the path of finding new information or discoveries for the next hit paper, you kept to yourself keeping logs of all the current surplus of information scattered through the Akademiya walls and passing those knowledge to the budding scholars of the future.

You and Cyno were not close friends however you both friendly enough for a wave or a quick hello back to each other since you were one of the few scholars that didn't seem to fear his gaze. Otherwise you barely saw him, knowing that he was someone who tended to do his job hidden or by himself. Due to the difference in your jobs you didn't expect to cross one another anytime soon, but when news came that one of your students may have been working to acquire illegal knowledge capsules you and him somehow ended up together in the mission to catch them in the act.

"I can't believe this is happening." You groaned to yourself, face in your hands while you crouched against the wall. This was the worst thing to ever happen in your entire history as a teacher. You couldn't believe that one of your students were going this far just to pass the exam. Were you too strict? Did you fail to teach them properly? It was too late either way. You looked up from your hands to stare at Cyno who stared down at your crouched form. His face emotional less and his glare sharp.

If it were anyone else they would be whimpering under his gaze, but you could tell he didn't seem to harbor any negative feelings. Well at least not to you. "If the rumors are true they will be held accountable. You don't need to worry about that. " You shook your head, standing up and facing him head on.

"It's not that." Cyno arched an eyebrow. "It's an issue with me. If I did my job as a teacher properly they wouldn't have needed to take such drastic measures. If this is true I at least want to hear their side. I want to make sure this never happens again." You answered, trying to keep a brave front. Cyno stared at you blankly before turning away to walk out from the building. "Do whatever you want. It depends on what we find anyway."

You watched him walk out of the door. All you could do was sigh, following after him. How embarrassing was it that this was the first time you both had talked to each other properly. "If this is how fast you plan on going the entire mission we aren't going to finish anytime soon." You jumped in shock, realizing that he had not left you to catch up but was waiting for you outside the door. "My apologies." You mumbled, even more embarrassed than before. This was not going to be a fun.

---

The plan was simple . Since you kept a low profile compared to most scholars, it would be easy for you to infiltrate the merchant camp with the rest of the knowledge capsule hunters. After sneaking in, using the codes that were given to you by an unknown source, Cyno mentioned he had his ways but he did not look pleased about it, you would try to find your student amongst the crowd. After they had been spotted all you needed to do was take a picture using the kamera.

After the evidence had been acquired, all you needed to do was send the signal to Cyno and rush out of the place as fast as you can so that Cyno could shut the whole place down for good. You could feel yourself getting nervous the closer you stepped near the camp. You still had hope that maybe your student was just being framed or it had been someone else.

However seeing the familiar face amongst the rest of the buyers only filled you with dread. You reached your hand to grab the kamera, slowly inching close to be able to take a clear picture of them in the act. Just as you were about to pick the kamera out for a quick picture, you halted hearing the distress in your student's voice.

"We can't be here father. There are already rumors about me. My grades are not even that bad, I can pass the bar exam without the knowledge capsule." You heard them say only to be hushed harshly. You could feel your eyebrow twitch in rage. You watched as your student looked around worriedly, trying to drag their father away from the rest of the crowd.

You felt the tension in your body release, your student wasn't the one who wanted to get access to the knowledge capsules. Their father just was a cunt. You wanted to go there and drag them away from him, telling them that it will all be ok. You looked down at the kamera and then to the signal in your hand.

Without a second thought, you clicked to the button to release the signal. You winced hearing the loud sound it made, Cyno was not lying when he said he would hear it from miles away. The merchants and buyers looked around dazed by the sudden sound. You immediately began to make a run for it but instead of the door you ran straight towards your student.

Pushing their father to a side after he had loosened his grip, you grabbed your student by the wrist and began to make a run for it. You could hear your student shout your name in shock but you continued to make a run for it, hearing the now panicked and distressed calls of the people back in the illegal trade "THE GENERAL MAHATRAMA! HE'S HERE!". You could feel a smile form on your lips, Cyno was definitely having a field day.

---

You could feel Cyno's irritation when he realised what you had actually done. However you were lucky enough that he was willing to hear you and your student out. You were glad they rumors were not actually true and it wasn't them who wanted to acquire illegal knowledge and you were happy to know Cyno was willing to actually believe you.

"Thank you." You said, you could feel your face heat up and at this point you couldn't tell whether it was from the joy of helping your student or whether you were just feeling shy. You could see Cyno's eye twitch a bit however his face remained stoic. "I was just doing my job. The trade was successfully shut down because of this anyway. We shouldn't be hearing about any illegal knowledge capsules anytime soon." You shook your head.

"I meant for letting my student go." You smiled at him and he huffed. You wondered if you were imagining it but you could feel him seem shyer than before. " That was barely anything."

"Still let me pay you back in a way." Cyno raised an eyebrow at you. "What do you suggest?"

"Maybe dinner? Or perhaps a game? I heard you loved playing a certain card game." You teasingly mention, pulling out a new pack of cards that you had made sure to bring with you just for this. You could see a glint of light form in his eyes.

"I can't turn down a challenge." He answered. Cyno didn't know what to make of you when he first met you, all he remembered was how you would gingerly wave at him whenever he would catch you staring while he instinctively waved back. He watched you grow fond of your students and show your interests to teach. You might not think he cared too much about you but he was always paying attention.

You guys were not close but you were always in the back of his mind. Maybe that was why he decided to hear you out when you decided to pull something risky like that during the mission. Either way, Cyno always had a form of affection for you and it seems your invitation to play Genius Invokation TCG has finally confirmed that maybe it might be just more than acquaintances. Cyno just hoped his stoic nature would keep it under wraps, at least for now.

Nilou

"Do you know how to dance?"

It was the first thing that Nilou had said to you when she saw you trying to dance on the outskirts of Sumera city. You decided to stroll into the Grand Bazaar one day. You just went inside to peak. The Akademiyan scribes would have been completely against you from entering but you were so curious. They always had something bad to say about the place and you just had to find out why hated the place so much.

You stumbled inside during an event that day. The lights illuminated the stage and the star of the show swayed to the rhythm of the music. You stared in awe when you saw how delicately she danced. She looked as if she was floating. All eyes were on her, including yours. She didn't even stumble at any moment and you couldn't even see a bead of sweat dripping down her face. 'Must be an angel' You thought.

You didn't expect to stay for the whole event but you lost track of time. Watching show after show, the theatre had so much to offer! Why would the Akademiya be so against it? The shows were exciting and full of life, most of them even showed a valuable lessons which were easy to understand by the general public.

Either way you got hooked on going to see what they had in store, especially the dances. The moves felt so calculated and precise. You could feel your Akademiya brain trying to figure out how they did it, which was what lead you to your first encounter with Nilou.

You were trying to copy what you had written down during one of the events. You wrote down her exact foot placements, the way her hips swayed to the beat and even the different speeds changes during all movements. However nothing was going right! You kept stumbling over you feet and you could not meet the beats.

You were surprised on how scarred you got during the process, who knew you would stumble so much just to learn how to dance? You huffed, wiping the dirt and grime off your outfit and pulling out the notebook from your pocket. You could not figure out what you were doing wrong? You repeated the steps in your head, jotting down what you had possibly missed causing your failed attempt. You sighed frustratedly, putting the notebook back into your pocket.

You made your way towards the river and began to pose. Nilou started her routine dance in a specific way and you wanted to find a way to replicate it. You looked at your reflection, you were too stiff and it looked awkward. You kept trying find a good angle and that was when Nilou had popped out, asking you the question.

You yelped, almost falling into the river, however you were saved as gentle arms grabbed you by the waist. You looked at her as she steadied you before letting you go. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scar you!" She said, arms up and face apologetic. You could feel your face warm up.

"How long have you been watching?" Nilou chucked a bit. "A while now. " You could feel your face become warmer. Nilou looked at you worriedly. "Oh! I wasn't watching you on purpose or anything! I was actually collecting some wood for the theatre props! I'm so sorry for invading your privacy!" She said, pointing towards the bundle of wood collected near by some trees.

You shook your head, trying to calm yourself down. The angel in your favorite new pastime had saw you dancing like a mess, however you still had some Akademiya scholar pride, you couldn't show her that this situation bothered you. You coughed into your hand, trying to hide the rest of the blush which was slowly going away. "It's alright. It's not like this is a private area anyway. I'll be on my way."

You turn to go pick up your stuff only for your arm to be captured by Nilou's firm grasp. "Oh please wait! I saw you dancing and you seemed you needed some guidance. I could help you practice if you like!" You turned to look at her as she smiled at you. Her eyes were such a gentle blue and full of life. You couldn't say no to that.

"That would be quite helpful actually." You mumbled quietly, still trying to keep whatever pride you had left in you. You wanted to know how to dance, you wanted to feel like you were floating as well. Nilou let out a laugh, it was sweet and you could feel yourself get butterflies in your stomach just from hearing it. "Let's get started then shall we?"

That was the start of your dance practice journey with Nilou. If Nilou wasn't in the theatre she was near the outskirts of Sumeru City with you. She taught you from the very beginning. It started from stretching. You were stiff as a board, which was how Nilou described you when you couldn't even bend to touch your toes. You tried to tough it out and you were surprised to see how fast results showed.

You looked at Nilou excitedly after you were successfully able to do her entire exercise routine without asking for a break. She giggled at your joy, she never had such a student who wanted to learn this much.

Then she showed you how to match the rhythm. It was simple, she held your hand and guided you.

First Step, Second Step, First Step, Second Step.

You held onto her hands tightly, watching both of your feet's intensely. You were worried that you would step on her toes at any moment. However during this moment all Nilou could do was stare at your face, eyebrows furrowed making sure not to miss a step. She couldn't but think how cute you looked so serious for something so simple.

Finally after learning the basics, she showed you how to do a simple routine, all the dance steps separately. You showed her your notebook full of all the records you kept of her shows. She looked at it enthusiastically. "You wrote this all down?" You gave her a nod, proud of your academic ability to be able to take notes down so well.

She stared at the notes which were accompanied by the drawings. You had written down almost her entire show routine. She could feel a blush creep up her face. You had looked at her so intensely, making sure to not even miss a single hand movement or foot placement. She could feel your eyes burn in the back of her head now and she wondered if she could continue doing the shows like she always did if it meant you looked at her in such a way.

"You didn't need to write all this you know?" "Why not? The way you move is so beautiful, I couldn't help myself. " The words flew out of your mouth so smoothly you didn't even realise how shy Nilou had gotten. Her face was entirely red at this point and she could feel her legs almost giving out. She huffed, placing the book to the side.

"Well you won't need that book when I am training you directly." She grasped your face, making you look at her directly in the eyes. " All you need to do is look at me." This time you could feel your face heat up.

---

The training took months. It became a daily occurrence of you sneaking out from the Akademiya to go to the Grand Baazar. Almost everyone knew your name and after Nilou was done with work you both would leave to go dance alongside both of your new secret dancing spot.

Nilou sat down on a rock, patiently waiting for you to began dancing. You were no longer the scholar covered in dirt and grime due to stumbling over your own feet nor did you look stiff when you tried to match the rhythm. You were confident and you wanted to show Nilou the progress that you both had achieved.

When you started to dance Nilou could feel her chest ache. You were so enchanting. She wondered if this was how you felt the first time you sneaked inside to watch her dance. She couldn't take her eyes away from you. 'Ah, an angel.' She thought as you smiled at her during your routine.

She didn't know how to express the emotions she felt inside her but she knew was she wanted to keep dancing with you in secret. Your dancing was for her and her viewing only.

#genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x reader #nilou x reader #cyno x reader #genshin fluff

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ausetkmt · 1 year

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Video shows migrants waiting before ill-fated migrant boat voyage

03:41 - Source: CNN

CNN —

The hull of the fishing trawler lifted out of the water as it sank, catapulting people from the top deck into the black sea below. In the darkness, they grabbed onto whatever they could to stay afloat, pushing each other underwater in a frantic fight for survival. Some were screaming, many began to recite their final prayers.

“I can still hear the voice of a woman calling out for help,” one survivor of the migrant boat disaster off the coast of Greece told CNN. “You’d swim and move floating bodies out of your way.”

With hundreds of people still missing after the overloaded vessel capsized in the Mediterranean on June 14, the testimonies of those who were onboard paint a picture of chaos and desperation. They also call into question the Greek coast guard’s version of events, suggesting more lives could have been saved, and may even point to fault on the part of Greek authorities.

Rights groups allege the tragedy is both further evidence and a result of a new pattern in illegal pushbacks of migrant boats to other nations’ waters, with deadly consequences.

This boat was carrying up to 750 Pakistani, Syrian, Egyptian and Palestinian refugees and migrants. Only 104 people have been rescued alive.

CNN has interviewed multiple survivors of the shipwreck and their relatives, all of whom have wished to remain anonymous for security reasons and the fear of retribution from authorities in both Greece and at home.

One survivor from Syria, whom CNN is identifying as Rami, described how a Greek coast guard vessel approached the trawler multiple times to try to attach a rope to tow the ship, with disastrous results.

“The third time they towed us, the boat swayed to the right and everyone was screaming, people began falling into the sea, and the boat capsized and no one saw anyone anymore,” he said. “Brothers were separated, cousins were separated.”

Another Syrian man, identified as Mostafa, also believes it was the maneuver by the coast guard that caused the disaster. “The Greek captain pulled us too fast, it was extremely fast, this caused our boat to sink,” he said.

The Hellenic Coast Guard has repeatedly denied attempting to tow the vessel. An official investigation into the cause of the tragedy is still ongoing.

Coast guard spokesman Nikos Alexiou told CNN over the phone last week: “When the boat capsized, we were not even next to (the) boat. How could we be towing it?” Instead, he insisted they had only been “observing at a close distance” and that “a shift in weight probably caused by panic” had caused the boat to tip.

The Hellenic Coast Guard has declined to answer CNN’s specific requests for response to the survivor testimonies.

Direct accounts from those who survived the wreck have been limited, due to their concerns about speaking out and the media having little access to the survivors. CNN interviewed Rami and Mostafa outside the Malakasa migrant camp near Athens, where journalists are not permitted entry.

The Syrian men said the conditions on board the migrant boat deteriorated fast in the more than five days after it set off from Tobruk, Libya, in route to Italy. They had run out of water and had resorted to drinking from storage bottles that people had urinated in.

“People were dying. People were fainting. We used a rope to dip clothes into the sea and use that to squeeze water on people who had lost consciousness,” Rami said.

CNN’s analysis of marine traffic data, combined with information from NGOs, merchant vessels and the European Union border patrol agency, Frontex, suggests that Greek authorities were aware of the distressed vessel for at least 13 hours before it eventually sank early on June 14.

The Greek coast guard has maintained that people onboard the trawler had refused rescue and insisted they wanted to continue their journey to Italy. But survivors, relatives and activists say they had asked for help multiple times.

Earlier in the day, other ships tried to help the trawler. Directed by the Greek coast guard, two merchant vessels – Lucky Sailor and Faithful Warrior – approached the boat between 6 and 9 p.m. on June 13 to offer supplies, according to marine traffic data and the logs of those ships. But according to survivors this only caused more havoc onboard.

“Fights broke out over food and water, people were screaming and shouting,” Mostafa said. “If it wasn’t for people trying to calm the situation down, the boat was on the verge of sinking several times.”

By early evening, six people had already died onboard, according to an audio recording reviewed by CNN from Italian activist Nawal Soufi, who took a distress call from the migrant boat at around 7 p.m. Soufi’s communication with the vessel also corroborated Mostafa’s account that people moved from one side of the boat to the other after water bottles were passed from the cargo ships, causing it to sway dangerously.

The haunting final words sent from the migrant boat came just minutes before it capsized. According to a timeline published by NGO Alarm Phone they received a call, at around 1:45 a.m., with the words “Hello my friend… The ship you send is…” Then the call cuts out.

The coast guard says the vessel began to sink at around 2 a.m.

The next known activity in the area, according to marine traffic data, was the arrival of a cluster of vessels starting around 3 a.m. The Mayan Queen superyacht was the first on the scene for what soon became a mass rescue operation.

Human rights groups say the authorities had a duty to act to save lives, regardless of what people on board were saying to the coast guard before the migrant boat capsized.

“The boat was overcrowded, was unseaworthy and should have been rescued and people taken to safety, that’s quite clear,” UNHCR Special Envoy for the Central Mediterranean Vincent Cochetel told CNN in an interview. “There was a responsibility for the Greek authorities to coordinate a rescue to bring those people safely to land.”

Cochetel also pointed to a growing trend by countries, including Greece, to assist migrant boats in leaving their waters. “That’s a practice we’ve seen in recent months. Some coastal states provide food, provide water, sometimes life jackets, sometimes even fuel to allow such boats to continue to only one destination: Italy. And that’s not fair, Italy cannot cope with that responsibility alone.”

Survivors who say the coast guard tried to tow their boat say they don’t know what the aim was.

There have been multiple documented examples in recent years of Greek patrol boats engaging in so-called “pushbacks” of migrant vessels from Greek waters in recent years, including in a CNN investigation in 2020.

“It looks like what the Greeks have been doing since March 2020 as a matter of policy, which is pushbacks and trying to tow a boat to another country’s water in order to avoid the legal responsibility to rescue,” Omer Shatz, legal director of NGO Front-LEX, told CNN. “Because rescue means disembarkation and disembarkation means processing of asylum requests.”

Pushbacks are state measures aimed at forcing refugees and migrants out of their territory, while impeding access to legal and procedural frameworks, according to the Berlin-based European Center for Constitutional and Human Rights (ECCHR). They are a violation of international law, as well as European regulations.

And such measures do not appear to have deterred human traffickers whose businesses prey on vulnerable and desperate migrants.

In an interview with CNN last month, then Greek Prime Minister Kyriakos Mitsotakis denied that his country engaged in intentional pushbacks and described them as a “completely unacceptable practice.” Mitsotakis is widely expected to win a second term in office in Sunday’s election, after failing to get an outright majority in a vote last month.

A series of Greek governments have been criticized for their handling of migration policy, including conditions in migrant camps, particularly following the 2015-16 refugee crisis, when more than 1 million people entered Europe through the country.

For those who lived through last week’s sinking, the harrowing experience will never be forgotten.

Mostafa and Rami both say they wish they had never made the journey, despite the fact they are now in Europe and are able to claim asylum.

Most of all, Mostafa says, he wishes the Greek coast guard had never approached their boat: “If they had left us be, we wouldn’t have drowned.”

#‘If they had left us be #we wouldn’t have drowned:’ CNN investigation raises questions about Greek coast guard’s account of shipwreck tragedy #greek coast guard #greece #brown skin #white privilege #racism in immigration #africans #european racism

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mk-writes-stuff · 5 months

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OC Questionnaire

Rules: answer the questions as your OCs, then come up with new questions for the next people

Thanks @elsie-writes and @illarian-rambling for the tags! I’m going to do these ones for my main three but I’m still thinking about doing some side characters if I ever get a chance

How do you pay for things? Cash, cheque, card, something else?

Belladonna: “My phone has an automatic link to my bank account, I just pay through there. What else would I use?”

Cassie: “My phone account if it’s something legit. For under-the-table stuff, there’s chip transfer merchants you can go to in the lower station that’ll load a balance onto an untraceable card for a fee.”

Nellie: “I actually haven’t bought anything of my own yet, but Cassie showed me how to use the payment system, so we’re going shopping when my paycheque comes in!”

What is something small you couldn’t live without?

Belladonna: “Probably my glasses. I could get my eyes fixed, but I like my glasses. Eye surgery scares me.”

Cassie: “My eye patch. No, literally, I’d be dead without it. They would’ve caught me like a year ago.”

Nellie: “My sunglasses. Same reason.”

Do you (or did you) ever wish you had a different name? What was it?

Belladonna: “I wanted to be called Bella for a bit when I was little because Belladonna was hard to spell. My parents refused. I like my name now, though.”

Cassie: “Honestly, kind of. The only reason my name’s Cassie is someone asked and I started saying ‘Cassiopeia’ before I realized that would get me killed and cut myself off. But I have no fucking clue what id change it to, I’m kind of attached to it now.”

Nellie: “I wanted to name myself Nellie! And I got to!”

What is (or would be) your favourite subject in school?

Belladonna: “I always liked etiquette classes, honestly.”

Cassie: “Uh, I don’t know. I’d love to learn mechanics. Other than that, I’ve heard they have a sports course, that would be fun.”

Nellie: “I’m learning how to read! It’s hard, but I love it.”

Have you ever played a prank on someone?

Belladonna: “I used to hide things as a kid a lot. My parents put a stop to that real fast.”

Cassie: “Yeah, me and my overnight watch buddies down on the lower station used to try to pretend we were mugging each other all the time. It was great.”

Nellie: “No! I would’ve died.”

If you could swap bodies with anyone you know for a day, who would it be?

Belladonna: “Cassiopeia. I want to look like her. She’s so beautiful.”

Cassie: “Fuck that! I’m not giving anyone else my body!”

Nellie: “I’m not sure. It would be interesting to be in Belladonna’s shoes for a day.”

These were great, thank you!

@kaylinalexanderbooks @touloserlautrec @spitefulbull want to give this one a go? Your questions are:

What is your favourite animal?

Do you have any obscure skills? What are they?

If you could change one thing about the world you live in, what would it be?

#writeblr #tag game #seven station chronicles

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dailyadventureprompts · 2 years

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Tavern: The Long Walk off the Short Pier

“ ‘onestly tried a bunch of names ‘afore this one stuck, The Pelican, Drowned Admiral, but the Long Walk was great for two reasons. First is makes directions simple, Every sailor, roustabout, merchant and doxie knows where the Short Pier is, right next to the Long Pier. Second is clientele, when we started out I didn’t want anyone in my establishment who can’t take an insult when asking where they should eat, first on account of my face, and second because of my cooking.

Which reminds me, what’ll yall be havin?”

Situated in the heart of a thriving trade port, The Long Walk is exactly the sort of tavern that becomes a mainstay of adventurers: Rough enough that they don’t mind cursing, brawling, or an errant cantrip going off, but not so rough that the party needs to check their beds for lice or worry about getting knifed when they visit the privy. This precarious balance of chaos is the lifelong achievement of one Berner Bask, who operates the tavern in memory of his departed mother, herself a tavernkeep, who was left destitute after her establishment burned down.

Adventure Hooks:

Berner is the person to know if you need to find work, as after the fire he grew up hauling cargo and rubbing elbows with the high and low of the harbour's trader and labour classes. If a merchant’s hiring on guards for her wagons, Berner can make introductions. If there’s strange happenings up the coast, Berner knows about it and has an opinion. If there’s a shipment late that needs checking on, Berner knows who’ll pay to find out why. Having lost nearly everything early on, Bask knows how a steady job can change a life, and how coin in hand translates to drink in the other and food in the belly.

By the grace of gods of land and tide, the Long Walk finally has a good cook, sparing regulars and newcomers alike from the travesties that Bask routinely creates in the kitchen. A timid halfelven woman by the name of Prim, the party are likely to enjoy quite a few of her delicious meals before she disappears, leaving them and the other patrons of the tavern with many questions and greyish mush on their plate. As it turns out, Prim was working under an alias, having fled her previous job as a lord’s personal chef when that lord dropped dead from poison. Wanted by the authorities, Prim had fled to the port hoping to hide among the hustle and bustle and hop a ship if she was ever discovered. Depending on how fast the party solve the mystery, the party can either give up Prim to the authorities (she did totally slip that guy poison, she was paid poorly and rival nobles pay well), help her cover her trail and return to her life, or lose her completely and end up running into her in some other port in their far later adventures.

#seaside #ally #mystery #sailing #ocean #Press Start #tavern #low level #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #5e

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acceptccnow · 10 months

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Future-Proof Payment Solutions: A Guide to Merchant Account Innovations

Article by Jonathan Bomser | CEO | Accept-Credit-Cards-Now.com

In the fast-paced world of online commerce, payment solutions have evolved into the linchpin for the success of businesses spanning diverse industries. Whether steering an e-commerce venture, specializing in credit repair, or navigating the CBD retail landscape, procuring an apt merchant account and avant-garde payment processing system is paramount. This guide delves into the domain of payment innovation, spotlighting future-proof solutions crafted to meet the exigencies of contemporary high-risk businesses.

DOWNLOAD THE FUTURE-PROOF PAYMENT SOLUTIONS INFOGRAPHIC HERE

The Core of Merchant Accounts

Merchant accounts, serving as the bedrock of secure payment processing, play an instrumental role in facilitating various transactions, including credit and debit card payments. The significance of reliable and efficient merchant processing services cannot be overstated. Whether operating in the high-risk echelons or mainstream e-commerce, securing the right merchant account is a prerequisite for ensuring the fluidity of transactions.

Navigating the Landscape of High-Risk Payment Processing

Industries perched in the high-risk echelons, such as credit repair and CBD, grapple with distinctive challenges in the realm of payment processing. Traditional payment processors often shy away from these ventures due to perceived risks. However, this guide unravels the nuances of high-risk payment processing, spotlighting innovations designed to fortify and safeguard businesses operating in these precarious niches.

E-Commerce Payment Prowess

In this digital epoch, the ascent of e-commerce is meteoric. To flourish in this fiercely competitive landscape, online enterprises must proffer payment options that seamlessly meld convenience with security. This section delves into e-commerce payment processing solutions, underscoring the perks of embracing a dedicated e-commerce merchant account. Whether dealing in products or services, the payment gateway emerges as the conduit to triumph.

Bespoke Services for Credit Repair

Credit repair entities assume a pivotal role in aiding individuals to reconstruct their financial landscapes. Yet, the distinctive nature of this terrain necessitates specialized merchant processing services. This guide unravels the intricacies of payment processing and payment gateways uniquely tailored for credit repair merchants, ensuring compliance with industry regulations.

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Mastery of Payment Processing in the CBD Realm

While the CBD industry witnesses unprecedented growth, it concurrently stands as one of the most high-risk sectors for payment processing. Securing a dependable CBD merchant account and payment gateway is imperative for enterprises navigating this domain. This section dissects the challenges confronting CBD retailers and unveils innovative solutions engineered to usher in secure and efficient credit card processing for CBD products.

In the ever-evolving realm of payment processing, proactive adaptation is the linchpin for businesses of every stature and kind. From high-risk payment processing to e-commerce sagas and specialized solutions for credit repair and CBD landscapes, the payment tableau is undergoing a metamorphosis. Armed with the right merchant account and payment gateway, businesses can fortify their standing in the digital arena, future-proofing their enterprise while presenting customers with a payment experience that seamlessly amalgamates security and convenience.

#high risk merchant account #credit card processing #payment processing #high risk payment gateway #high risk payment processing #accept credit cards #credit card payment #merchant processing #payment #youtube #Youtube

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gracehosborn · 6 months

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Find The Word Tag

Thank you to @athenswrites for the tag! Even if its a month or so late!

Rules: find excerpts from your work(s)-in-progress with the given words, then tag some friends to play along.

My words: Seed, Glass, Contain(er), and Hands. Your words: Run(ing), blood, clear, and realization.

Softly tagging, with no pressure: @kaylinalexanderbooks @meerawrites @queerfox-tales @thestarsfightagainstusmyfriend @sunset-a-story

Excerpts are under the cut! They feature:

Hamilton being angsty over some seeds in TAI.

Two excerpts from IOD! Alex gets her hair cut with a sword, and punches a guy in the nose.

From TAI, Hamilton receiving some exciting news during a morning drill with his militia.

Seed

From The American Icarus: Volume I:

I chuckled and shrugged my shoulders, “Uncle, I am no gardener.” “A little dirt will not hurt you.” Taking hold of my hand, my uncle pulled me to sit next to him, pressing with his other hand a single seed into my free one. For being a merchant, he does know how to garden well. Looking down at the lone seed then in my hand, I noted its small size; how it was destined to by those most logical rules of nature grow into a large, towering, and beautiful tree. Yet if only planted into the dirt before me, upon that island. There would be nowhere else for the little seed to grow and find its place—that island was its place, and that such fact would be known in my implanting it into the dirt just below it. You are only confused because you have more than one path unlike this seed. Why are you analogizing a seed? Just… figure something out—but what? Why? What purpose would my choices have? Legacy, what does that really matter? Mama is… dead… nothing is to change that—but trying would at least—ugh! I let the seed fall at a speed possibly too fast into the dirt as a murmur escaped me, “I hate being indecisive.” Not hearing my murmur, but seeing my treatment of his seed, my uncle turned towards me, attending me with a expression of surprise. “What did the poor seedling do to you, dear child?” Reopen doors which I have not an idea of what to do with and of which cause me great confusion simply due to my being in a position which gives little opportunity to walk through them. “Nothing… sorry.” “’Tis alright, she’s just a seed—a beautiful tree will come no matter how hard you threw it into its dirt.” “Indeed, but it had to be this dirt?” Without much thought, I gestured towards the said dirt with the hand which had released the seed; it then unseen underneath the brown specks. Uncle James’ blue eyes shewed much confusion, “What is the matter with the dirt? You just said to me you’re no gardener, yet why is it you’re complaining about dirt? You get your hands dirty working for Mr. Cruger, do you not?” Glancing away from my uncle, I sighed, the entertainment of those most interesting of passerby not as such in that moment. I was grateful for my job, and the life thereat I had lived, but particulars of the whole left me in a state of boundless confusion. My mother had only come to that island on account of my father’s business then as a sailor whom had in reasons I alongside many are still left to speculate, this having left my mother to raise her two children alone with aid of her family at which point she had died, leaving those said children otherwise orphaned and a family history tainted in scandal, fear and cover from the law, and known to all—even those whose knowledge of it was a national curse. All these particulars considered on the whole left me to question my very reasonings to having thought of them. I was at a fork in the road—continue to trek onward and stay where I was in security albeit really very little, or be one Orpheus and turn; changing everything with a most simple action in theory.

Glass

From Ink of Destruction:

Then my composure shattered like falling glass. My bones flared with anger as my eyes grew dark, becoming ablaze with wrath that seemed to burst out like a clown jumping out of a sewer. I could feel my feet guiding my body forward and my arm moving back as though it were a slingshot. Without a word, I punched Aiden Edwards square in the nose. Hearing a loud crack as I pulled away, I couldn’t help but feel the smallest bit of pride in my anger. Backing away with a cry of agony, Aiden reached for his nose, clutching his face in his hands as he felt for the blood that was now trickling down his cheeks. “What the hell was that for? You fucking broke my nose!?” he cried as he attempted to tend to the injury. "Oh, you should know what it was for, Aiden,” I said, feeling the sternness in my voice return. Before he could respond, I turned towards Jess, who immediately took a step back, feeling the full force of the wrath in my gaze. A part of my mind felt as though the action were justified, for Jess had betrayed me, or rather, she had been against me this whole time. A spy.

Contain

From The American Icarus: Volume I:

“You may all be relieved of your duties for today,” began he. “Good work today—thank you for not causing a racket. Pick up your target boards—bring them to Lieutenant Jay here.” As many a “Yes, sir!” filled the air, I returned to my right, walking towards the wooden board I had been left to use moments before. At last closing the distance of some yards, my hand wrapped around the top of the thick oak, it pressing firmly against my skin. Able to clearly see the damage done upon it by me, I noted the large clean-cut gashes, placed fairly close together, the three each having carved a hole. Upon the grass behind, in shadow of the secondary wooden piece propping the main board up, wood shavings covered the space; the balls of lead somewhere in the grass far beyond. Keeping the board steady within my grasp, as to not harm myself by way of the loose pieces, I turned in the direction of the chapel. A soreness began to rise upon my upper back as the board and my musket knocked on occasion my sides in my hurried walking, pushing me to grunt in frustration. If not for the barrel of the musket still hot and in need of cleaning, I would have slung her upon my back in quickening my pace. The wood of her barrel grazed my shoulder with the brush of a close fire, intense such that as I at last met Lieutenant Jay’s gaze I flinched. “Careful—here, I’ll take it.” Before I could register the action, Fredrick took hold of my board, pulling it out of my grasp. With a clatter, he dropped it into the growing pile just to his left near the chapel wall before turning back towards me. “Thank you—“ “Impressive work there, with that demonstration. Sorry they needed it, but you have proven yourself very equipped. That reminds me….” Turning his attention to the pocket of his coat, Fredrick retrieved with a swift movement the envelope I had seen in his care some time prior. “This arrived by Colonel McDougall from my brother whilst you were with your group. I know not what the pages inside contain.” He replied to my—well of course he would have considering that is what I wanted to make him do. I actually managed to get an intended reply…. Taking the envelope outstretched towards me, my fingers gripped the folded parchment with firmness, driven not to tear the wax seal only by the publicity of the circumstances surrounding me. My chest rose with a slowness as in gathering myself I took a long breath. Carefully, I slipped the envelope into the left pocket of my coat, glancing up at my superior officer once more at the quiet thud of the parchment against the wool fabric. “Thank you, sir.” Giving a smile polite, I began to take my leave, but not before Fredrick attempted to grab my shoulder. A short gasp escaping me, I turned my head so as to face him once more. “Sir?” “You did not hear this from me,” he began, his voice lowering close to a whisper, “but I did hear that McDougall and Jay have been talking of you—there has been rumor spreading that the Provincial Congress might raise a new company to be led by an appointment.” Shock gripped to my expression and countenance, pushing my eyes to widen and mouth to open slightly. “Are you suggesting—“ “Yes.” “What?” In keeping pace with Fredrick’s quiet, my voice was pushed out forcibly, unable to be withheld by the shock consuming me. A smirk took up my friend’s expression as he lifted a finger to his lips in silent request. Releasing his hand from my shoulder, he gave a quick nod before turning towards the man newly arrived with another of the wooden boards used during the drill. Sensing another man suddenly behind myself, I stepped to my far left and away from Lieutenant Jay in an attempt to be out of the way as my heart began to race.

Hands

From Ink of Destruction:

“Now that the rope is cut, you should be able to get your hands out quite easily. But yes, I will make that attempt.” At his words, the loosened pressure around my wrists became more noticable. Lifting my fingers inward, I managed to find a hole in the center of the knot. Inhaling, I pulled my right hand away and up, carefully squeezing my fingers between the ropes and the cement pole. A sigh of relief escaped me as my free hand tugged at the rope, and the sound of the knot meeting the wooden floor filled my ears. Lowering my hands to my sides, I gently rubbed my wrists against the inner lining of my jacket’s sleeves, feelling a soreness race down my arms. Blinking, I stared towards Mr. Waiter, feeling words come out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Are you certain that you haven’t done any formal historical research? Or did you lie to me? It’s clear you are not an amateur with that sword.” My voice held an even tone, for I was more curious than angry. A look of realization filled Mr. Waiter’s face, and I could see sprinkles of what appeared to be mischeif in his eyes. “You would know if I were lying to you. I am notoriously a bad lair. And if I were to mess with you, that would be even more obvious. As historians, or those who claim themselves historians, could tell you. I am not a historian myself. Rather, a subject of interest for many in the profession.” Shock and disbelief filled my veins as I took in his words. If historians had written about him, then surely I should have recognized him. His omission of what had caused him to drop out of college must have been something that would have drawn too much attention to him for him to have wanted to mention it inside the resturant. Further, the fact that he had not said his name indicated to me that I may not believe him. As I opened my mouth, the man rose his hand up to stop me. “Turn around so that I might try to fix your hair. Then you can continue.” Nodding, I turned to face the white pole as questions swirled with a fury in my mind. Coming to stand behind me, Mr Waiter gently grabbed towards the center of my hair, slowly lifting the now-uneven strands above my head. Gravity forced the last few inches of the longer portions to fall in front of my eyes, and I was certain against Mr. Waiter’s fist. Hearing the clang of the sword against the wood, I took a deep breath, steadying my posture. “This may be shorter than you wish,” Mr. Waiter said, “but if I held it otherwise, there would be a greater risk of ripping your roots out. And I am sure you don’t want to wear a wig.” Without another word, the man raised his hand, and the sharp swoosh of his blade filled the room. Clumps of hair flew to the floor with soft taps as the metal was struck for a second, and third time. The sounds brought me back to my freshman world history class, where we had watched a number of films exploring different cultures. As a treat towards the end of the unit, Disney’s Mulan had been shown. It was clear to me now how the strengths of animation had made the character’s famed haircut with her own sword seem so easy. Lenna would have surely reasoned that Mulan simply had thin hair, with the benefit of straight strands. At the thought, worry caught in my throat at how much time had passed. She had most likely gotten a cab, I told myself, but knowing Lenna, she would not have strayed far. “There.” With a sigh of relief, Mr. Waiter at last lowered the centuries’ old weapon after a final swing, stepping back towards his former post. As my hair fell back down, I could hear him mutter under his breath: “I never imagined I would use my training in such a manner.”

#find the word #my wips #the american icarus #TAI #ink of destruction #IOD #amrev #ya fantasy #historical fiction #alexander hamilton #writers on tumblr #amwriting #writing community #writer things #writeblr #alternate history #alternative history #writing excerpts #writing snippets

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endlessnightlock · 2 years

Note

"it's so dark i can't see you, here--hold my arm."

Thank you 💚💚💚

Here's a follow-up to a bed-sharing prompt I filled. <3

“What’s the difference between snuggling and hugging? A lot.”

I wake, disoriented and unsure of my surroundings; I’m in an unfamiliar room. It’s dark in here, and someone is holding me close with strong arms.

Peeta. My memories of last night come together, explaining to me why I’m here. Dropping off an order for the Undersee’s as a favor to Madge, finding Peeta on the bakery kitchen floor, weak and dizzy, staying to help him. The blizzard snowing me in at the bakery. That’s why I’m at his house—all reasonably explained. None of them account for why I’m snuggled up in bed with Peeta.

Longing tinged with nostalgia rolls through me when a soft exhale from his mouth ruffles my hair. Realizing I don’t have to face him yet this morning—

or whatever time of day it is. Outside it’s black as pitch. The wind picks up again, howling through the hollow where the town sits in the shadow of the mountains—

I close my eyes and let the tension go for now. Later is just fine for worrying.

I hardly know Peeta, could have counted on one hand the number of times we spoke before last night, but I’m comfortable with his arms wrapped around me, him breathing shallowly in a way that tells me he’s still asleep.

It’s like I’m a small girl, asleep on our sofa, head on my father’s chest after a chilly day in the woods---small and protected, warm and comfortable, with my head tucked under his chin. Peeta and I have to be lying much too close for a pair that barely know each other. But his bed is small, and narrow.

My chest swells with a sweet ache, catching me from falling asleep again. Leaving me to ponder my thoughts.

I can’t wrap my head around why I feel this way. Of course I’m not afraid of Peeta, he saved my life once. I know he’s kind, but that doesn’t account for my quiet happiness.

He’s sleeping so soundly I couldn’t extricate myself from his arms if I wanted. I’m not sure I could try without waking him so I stay in place. After his high fever last night, he needs his rest.

The district must've lost power completely. None of the lights in the merchant quarter are lit. Under the blanket we’re sharing I’m warm but the air in his bedroom is cold.

I turn my head a bit to keep my neck from getting stiff, and I catch a whiff of clean skin, cotton, washing powder. Boy. Something about the combination stirs my stomach pleasantly.

“Katniss,” Peeta murmurs as he wakes up. I hold my breath when he pulls me closer for a half-second, tightening his arms in a hug before releasing me. I can breathe again when he scoots back, trying to make some room between us on his bed. “This is a nice way to wake up,” he says sleepily.

I duck my head and laugh, unaccountably embarrassed and unsure what to say in response.

“I hope I didn’t hog the bed,” he says lightly, propping his head up in the crook of his arm. He doesn’t seem uncomfortable with the closeness either.

“I share with Prim at home,” I tell him. “I’m used to it.”

“My brothers and I probably would have killed each other if we had to share a bed,” he says, sitting up and swinging his legs off the side of the mattress. He stands up, faltering a little.

Quickly I sit up and reach a hand out, grabbing his arm. “Are you alright?” I ask, standing up.

Peeta removes his hand from in front of his eyes. “Stood up too fast,” he admits sheepishly. He seems embarrassed. At least I’m not the only one.

I huff, squirreling my arm through the crook of his.

“I should be able to find my way,” he tells me. I catch the smile in his voice.

“Well, it’s so dark I can hardly see you—here, hold my arm.”

#endlessnightlock writes #everlark fanfiction #everlark #everlark drabble #katniss everdeen/peeta mellark #in panem a/u

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the-trinket-witch · 2 years

Text

A TWSTed Christmas Carol

(I don't know whether to put this as an entry to @bunnwich's Holiday Fan Event , only cause it's generally Holiday themed, not specifically Green One themed U_U CAN ALSO BE READ ON AO3 )

Azul Ashengrotto has always been a hard working mer. But will his drive for success cause him to lose his holiday spirit? Potentially more?

The Holidays were fast approaching, and such times sounded like easy money to be had at Azul's Monstro Lounge. Octavinelle typically hosted New Years, as most dorm denizens had to stay on campus over break due to 'inclement weather'. Of course for Nightraven College's Merchant of the Deep, any chance afforded to rake in more business was always welcome. Fliers had been plastered across campus of the Lounge's special holiday hours, which in itself drummed up a bit more business than usual.

One such day, the final day before break officially let loose for Yule, found him holed up once again in his office. The piano that had been enchanted to play continued its tunes as backdrop noise for his accounting. A familiar voice rang out over the trill of the music; one of Azul's partners had momentarily pulled his focus from the pages.

It's in the singing of a street corner choir

It's going home and getting warm by the fire

It's true, wherever you find love

It feels like Yuletide

A cup of kindness that we share with another

A sweet reunion with a friend or a brother

In all the places you find love

It feels like Yuletide

It was nice to have someone more actively musical in his life than he was currently; it left more room on his shoulders for things to advance him financially. Said responsibilities didn't leave room, though, for him to seemingly enjoy the season as the rest of those poor unfortunate souls. He hadn't noticed the song having ended until the rap of knuckles on his door alerted him of company.

It is the season of the heart

A special time of caring

The ways of love made clear

It is the season of the spirit

The message, if we hear it

Is make it last all year

"Azul? Do you have a moment?" Albert asked. Always polite, he waited for confirmation before entering. "Still have your nose to the grindstone, Love?"

"Indeed. Last year was a resounding success in pulling in business over the holidays. This year's looking similar. Tomorrow's going to be our busiest day next to New Years, and I don't plan on letting a single mark slip by."

He passed a few sheets over: projections, estimates and the hours needed to make it happen. Albert sat silent as he perused, but as his brow knit the further he read, the more nervous the Octopus became.

"Dear, I may have missed it but there's no days off from now through New Years. Is that right?"

"It is-but remember, again: it's a busy part of the year. There's no time to have downtime."

Hearing that dropped Al's expression from confusion to frustration. "You should at least have a day off. Most businesses are closed tomorrow for Yule, anyway. You won't be out much at all if you had even just a day to relax."

"Are you saying my business is non-essential?" A twitch of a smirk crossed Azul's lips, trying to steer the subject away.

"You know that's not what I mean," Al replied, a bit more indignant than Azul would have liked. "I'm saying you are more essential than all the madol in the world. You look utterly exhausted. I had wanted to have you three over for dinner tomorrow but if you're not taking it off, then neither can I." He offered back the stack of sheets, now heavier with disappointment.

"Well that's not fair." He was pouting now, another tactic with his partner to try getting his way. "I'll be just fine; and once I'm done with my shift tomorrow, the Twins and I can stop by-"

Albert drew in a breath, trying to reel in his shaking from a scarcely-seen anger. Azul never liked being the source of his human's frustration, and like any other time, it made him feel about as minute as krill. Worse yet was he could pinpoint exactly what he'd said that put him in hot water, once it had passed his lips. If Albert's unique magic hadn't been time manipulation, it might have been being able to sniff out a lie. 'I'll be just fine' was one such lie that he'd grown keen on sussing out. It didn't take the bags under his eyes nor the smell of coffee replacing tea in his cup to see that.

"No; if I'm coming in tomorrow with you, there won't be time even with an extra hour from me to make dinner. I have to go, though. I need to see what I can make for Yuu and Grim tonight so it's ready by tomorrow."

He disappeared in a blink before resuming time around himself to close the door behind him. Azul deflated back into his chair, his final tasks seeming more daunting without his previous gusto at his sails.

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

Kitchen prepped, drinkware polished, decor placed; the Monstro Lounge was ready to go for Yule. Somehow it felt…hollow as Azul turned in for the night. He periodically checked his phone, but why? Was he expecting Albert to text him? Debating on whether he should send a text? What would he even say? Why was he even worrying about this? It’s not like this dinner plan had to be tomorrow. But then…something roiled in his gut; he hoped it was just the coffee giving him indigestion and not something like guilt. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day, so he found it best to curl into bed to at least try sleeping. The sound of waves far above were a familiar, comforting sound, soon carrying him off to sleep.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Part of him hoped that whoever had the gall to demand his attention this late at night had heard his groans. He stumbled towards the door, grumbling a, “Just a moment,” as they knocked again. A thinly veiled look of contempt flashed on Azul’s face before one of confusion took over; Yuu leant into the doorframe, arms crossed and a sharp frown being the only visible part of their face not hidden by ringlets.

“Ah, Yuu. What can I possibly do for you this very late evening?” He didn’t really care why, but it was always best to at least pretend cordiality to prospective clients.

“I think you know why I’m here.”

“Might it be a contract for your little Grim to at least pass with a C this semester?” At this point, being coy was more of a way to kick back against being awoken.

“If a contract’ll get you to close shop tomorrow so you three can come over, then I guess-”

“Not possible. As much as I’d like to debate what you even might have as comparable collateral, Tomorrow is too big of an opportunity to miss out on. I know he’s concerned about me, and I’m sure Jade and Floyd’s added nagging is because of him, but he’ll see once everything’s been counted out that the added profits will let us do more extravagant things later. I just need him to be patient.”

“You do know he likes smaller kinda affairs, right? Like, his birthday, remember?”

While yes, he did remember, he also had wanted to keep in mind the preferences of the Twins, who leaned more towards larger types of parties. Yuu shook their head, tossing back their bangs waiting for an answer. They cocked a now visible eyebrow when an answer wouldn’t come, as well as let out a resigned huff.

“Whatever, Scrooge. Not my relationship, not my dinner plans; just means Grim gets maybe another half a day of leftovers. Don’t be surprised if some Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present or Future show up or something. ‘Night.”

Yuu didn’t give Azul much time to further protest, or ask what a Scrooge or Christmas was before they disappeared into the dark Octavinelle halls. Well, at least they weren’t bugging him anymore and he could go back to bed. The clock ticked, tocked, ticked as his eyelids lost the fight to keep open, finally bringing him to sleep.

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

Azul had always been a light sleeper, so it only took a faint giggle in his room to jostle him back awake. Accompanying this giggle had been light flaps and squeaks of something airborne and battish.

“Who’s-!”

He instinctively clamped his sheets to his chin at the sight of a familiar 3rd year floating at the foot of his bed: Lilia. Not in his typical Diasomniac wear, instead, the bat fae donned a similarly colored black and green Feileadh Mor, draping like wings over a festive red leine tunic.

“Ah, good. Lil Ashengrotto’s up~ Get any good sleep yet? Ya look a bit worn out.”

“Mr. Vanrouge, what’re you doing in my room?!”

“Hmm? Nah, I’m the Ghost of Yuletide Past. A little birdie told me you’re in need of a little bit of perspective~ Got a lil time to go on a fieldtrip? ‘Course ya do. C’mon.”

The spirit that only looked like Lilia floated a bit closer, a hand outstretched in invitation.

“I have to be dreaming. No one’s ever snuck up on me before. This has to be a dream; there’s no other explanation.” His pale blue eyes darted back and forth from the fae’s, erm, spirit’s hand to his face. “I think I’m going to go back to sleep, thank you very much. And I’d appreciate if you locked the door behind you when you go.”

“Well, before you do, since ‘this is a dream’, You wouldn’t have trouble going along with this-?” The Spirit purred, before snatching the Octopus’ wrist, lurching him from his cotton sanctuary. In an instant the entirety of Azul’s room melted away to reveal the dark trenches of the Coral Sea. Not just that, but his human form had reverted to his more cephalopodic one. Oh to not have himself exposed to his upperclassman in such a way. This was turning into an outright nightmare. Seeing his tentacles again drew out a howl of fright, seemingly to the Spirit’s enjoyment.

“Oh calm down, my fishy lil friend. C’mon, I got something-well someone-to show you~”

Like a marlin, the Lilia-shaped Spirit shot, still clamped to the cecaelia’s arm. Through the sea they swam, darting over cities and shanties alike under the sea. A familiar set of city lights eventually broke through the dark, ones that indicated he was coming home. And home was where they stopped.

"Wh-what're we doing here? HOW DO YOU KNOW WHERE I LIVE?" He demanded.

The Spirit answered with a nudge through the door to a cozy mer home. No decorations had been laid out; most mer either didn’t celebrate Yule, or made not as much an extravagant display as their neighbors on land. Each room sat quiet, of course being the middle of the night, save for one small room, his room. The two floated up towards where soft, almost inaudible sniffling. They poked through the small doorway, finding it equally dark. Along the ceiling hung shells littered with scratches and scrawls, all hanging off of loose strands of net like some conspiracy mobile. Below the shells, curled in a little black ball of weeping was a much younger Azul. It was a common memory for him, to lay in bed letting out his frustration in tears of ink. Ink that also laid out spells scrawled on the shells above him; testaments to his dedication to becoming better.

"I don't know why you're showing me this. I know what my past was like, I see these moments everytime I got to sleep."

"Well, I'm not so much showing you just this, but to show what you'd been missing all around you."

The fae-spirit floated back down to where a larger, mauve cecaelia sat at a table, staring down in thought with a much more refined, troubled look.

"I wish I knew how to help him. Cooking just seems to push him away, now. I can't just demand those children stop. Asking him to ignore them just seems to make them try even harder…."

She held her head, now even heavier with worry. It made Azul's hearts contort into knots. He wasn't surprised his mother wanted to help, but he'd been better for being allowed to figure his problems out on his own.

"This…doesn't surprise me. If we're done I'd like to 'go back' so I can finally sleep."

"Fufu, if you insist~"

The spirit once again took Azul by the hand to float back to the surface. His gaze turned back one last time, to see two long figures-eels-staring into his window. For a brief moment, he wondered if the look they seemed to wear was also concern, pity, or something else. They’d been watching him? Why? By the time he tore his gaze back, they had been fast approaching his room. His skin prickled at their speed; fast, way too fast, he shut his eyes waiting for impact with the floor, only to bounce back onto his bed.

Dark, quiet, Azul was once again back in his room-albeit with much more disheveled sheets and a singular heart beating at a hundred miles an hour. Breathe. He just had to breathe to settle down, give himself a second to collect his thoughts. This had to have just been a dream, or some fae magic he wasn't privy to, yet. The thought that his coffee may have been laced with…whatever Jade had brought back on his last hiking trip, while still concerning seemed a placating possibility. He just had to sleep off the supposed mushrooms and mentally note to have Floyd make the first pot tomorrow, instead. Once his heart rate was back to a more manageable level, did he try attempting to sleep once more. The sooner he could sleep, the sooner he didn’t have to think about the salty moisture dripping from his hair to the pillow, or the notion that his visit was more than a dream.

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

The mer tossed and turned; his bed was becoming way too uncomfortable to lay in. His gaze bore into the ceiling, now awake and irritated. First the bed lost its comfort, and now some growing chatter, clanging and ringing ebbed in from behind his door. Whatever forces were out to deprive him of even a wink of rest, he hoped they’d give up if he somehow could hide under his sheets. It was darker and cozier, anyway.

"Azul, what're you still doing here?! Come on! We got places to be, new horizons to pursue!"

The shout made the mass under the sheets flail and kick and holler until it finally revealed the other housewarden, once again huffing for air. A quick smooth over his hair and retrieval of his glasses did little to polish up his image, or bury the floundering he’d done just moments ago.

"Kalim," Azul took a sharp, 'calming' breath. "What are you doing here? It's the middle of the night, can this wait til morning?"

Standing as open and jovial as ever, was the Prince of The Scalding Sands: Kalim al-Asim. Or, at least, someone that looked like him. Whomever it was, had been dressed in a warm-looking red kafka and band of holly where a turban otherwise would have been.

“Can’t wait-all we got’s the present! More like ‘Ghost of Yuletide Present’, am I right? C’mon! There’s so many cool things going on, still; gotta catch it before it’s gone!”

This particular ‘dream’ was already beginning to grate on the cecaelia’s nerves. He let loose that sharp breath of his, and defiantly tucked himself back under his sheets. If this was a dream, he’d just wake up from it in a moment and-

“Hey now, you’re gonna miss out on all the food-right guys?” Kalim asked.

Cheers rang out around him, and the waft of exotic spices and cooked meat flooded in with him under his covering. Azul’s gut betrayed any attempt he might have had at protest; it all smelled too good. He flipped off the sheet to be immediately accosted by a harsh breeze. Once his eyes adjusted to the gust he could finally catch sight of the enormous spread laid out along a tablecloth, resting on…the magic carpet? But as his eyes trailed further and further back, and the longer he saw the ornate rug stretch behind them with what seemed like all of Scarabia seated, the closer he came to realize just how high they were up in the air. A chill not caused by the wind ran down his back at the sight. On complete instinct he tangled his lankiness around the young prince for some kind of stability.

“Get me down, get me down, GETMEDOWN!”

His panicking only seemed to incite another hearty laugh out of the Kalim-shaped apparition. “Hang on, then! Have a bite while we land?”

This Spectre of Yuletide Present kept his jovial smile on as he rolled an apple down his arm in offering. While Azul did catch it, it was only a moment before resuming his clamp on the spirit for purchase. With a steady anchor, he caught glimpses of the world passing by below him. Any observers below could have seen the persian rug procession and mistaken it for a festive dragon floating through the Yuletide sky. But per request, their magic carpet ride had begun to descend. It wove through headstones and trees, gliding to a hovering halt at the front door of the no-longer Ramshackle Dorm. Oh how he wished it wasn’t here. He hadn’t prepared anything to say, to rebuttal, to offer in apology…

“Awe, that’s kinda disappointing. I thought he’d have done some more decorating. Wonder if he’s done anything inside…”

The Spirit mindlessly took a hold of Azul’s sleeve, leading through the door as if it hadn’t been there, or rather, as if they weren't even there. Inside immediately silenced the laughter and merry-making from the caravan of spectral partiers, but not for replacement with its own festive sounds.

For a place still rather holey, the fire raging in the main den did a wonderful job in keeping the cold at bay. Its warm light danced across the furniture and garlands of festive colors. Something had clattered away in another room, the kitchen. Whatever was being made smelled wonderful, and again his gut protested being teased with only the scent. He had to know what was being concocted. Azul instead took the lead towards the source of the smell and noise, giving the door a nudge open.

Inside, Albert had finished washing up before laying protection over a dressed turkey and resting it somehow in the fridge. The smell, though, had been attributed to a tray of cooling ramekins of creme brulee.

"There. At least it's done and ready to bake. I better put instructions out for Yuu. Maybe they'll invite Malleus' crew over instead of them going out. Are they even here? -sigh- If anything, once it's done tomorrow I can bring some prepped plates over after,” he murmured to no one, as he covered the ramekins and laid them also to rest over the turkey.

Albert sat, finally done prepping, to begin scribbling down instructions to cook. His brow scrunched once in a while as he thought about something, and as Azul approached, he saw the detail of his instructions. Even Grim had a possibility of being able to follow them. He didn't care at this point whether his partner could see him or not, he just desperately wanted to tell him sorry. He rested a hand to his human's shoulder, but something seemed to come over Al in that instant. The human under him blinked, and immediately fell asleep, but only for a moment before jerking back awake. Azul had seen it happen before: micro-sleep. It meant that this wasn't the first night he'd spent sleeplessly.

Al just rattled, frustrated again and rubbing at already red, raw eyes before thrusting out of the chair to find something-anything-to wake himself up. Squats, stretching his crackling back, checking his phone, he settled eventually to pace across the lounge. Azul merely followed with the Spirit behind, now, watching him make lap after lap. Certain spots were not tread on, which made Azul assume they must have been creaky boards. Eventually even that wore out its effect on his wakefulness, landing him on the sofa. From there his attempts to keep himself awake began to falter. A weak rub against his legs, running hands through his hair; eventually he just seemed too tired to even do that. He gave one last glance back to the doorway, the one Azul and the Yuletide Ghost took up, and for a moment the mer wondered if he had actually been seen. And with it, Albert eventually succumbed to slumber.

Azul curled his arms into himself, knowing that peaceful look on his partner’s face was only temporary.

“Take me back.” Azul demanded. He wasn’t going to just sit there and let this dream make him watch his partner wrestle awake from his own nightmare, especially if there was nothing he could do about it.

“Yeah, I gotcha,” The spirit said, but sounded much older, more mature, than the one Kalim he knew.

Azul turned to see why, only to find a much older, wizened Kalim curled in on himself with age. It gave him a start, but reminded himself it was all just a dream. The old spirit led back out to the carpet and banquet. Upon coming back to view, the patrons, food and merriment all but dissolved into sand, only to blow away with the winter wind. He didn’t know why he looked back to the now even older Kalim for some explanation, but his query must have been easy to read on his face.

“Sorry to cut things so short, but that’s the present for ya. Sooner or later the future just becomes ‘now’, and then even that’s gone. Ya might wanna hurry back if you don’t wanna catch your-” The spirit’s words faded away as his form did, too, disappearing into blowing sand.

Now alone, there was no option in this supposed dream other than to get back to Octavinelle and hope he’d wake up this time. It seemed as if the wind had it out for him, what with it blowing directly against him. He could hardly see anything, let alone the open grave so haphazardly laid just off the path. One moment his foot hit solid snowy ground, the next: open air.

Down, down, down he fell; roots flew by too fast to grab, and nothing else offered itself as some form of ledge. His eyes closed, he didn't want to see the bottom come up to greet him, or how long it would take for it to do so. This seemed to be the end, if not to this dream, then more regrettably, his whole life.

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But a worn sofa ended up being his landing pad, not frozen grave dirt. Azul painfully bounced on the cushions before finally coming to rest. He clamped onto the seat to give his heart a chance to come down out of his throat. Once he finally had a chance to process the danger having passed, could he get stock of his new environment. Not a grave, but a living room, equipped with Ignihyde-blue accenting from the TV, coffee table, and sofa itself.

"Greetings, Foolish Mortal, hehe" a voice hissed behind him.

Azul whipped around to find a pale face behind a simple dark hood, famed by shoulders trembling with giggles. He seemed more 'Dungeon Master' than 'Spectre of the dreaded future'.

"I-Idia?" Great, the dream wasn't over yet, it seemed.

The hooded figure eeped, "N-no! -ahem- I'm:

'死の恐怖: ユールタイドの未来の亡霊~!'"

A blue blush flooded the hooded spirit's face; he seemed to have practiced rather hard on the execution of both the pronunciation and pose he flexed stiffly into. All of it in vain against a very unamused octopus' scrutiny.

"-sigh- Th-The Ghost of Yuletide Future," he clarified. "OK ok, look: let's just get this over with. Here ya go," the spirit moaned with a lazy plop of a controller into Azul's hands. "Also, in case ya get any ideas~"

Azul let out a groan of protest, making the controller groan in turn with his octopod grip. The Idia-shaped ghost flipped the television on before the octomer got any ideas about up and leaving. On the screen flashed an ornate purple script, 'Azul: The Game'. Underneath were the only options to check the control scheme and Continue. With no other choice, he pressed to continue. A quick chime and he was off.

The graphics were very well rendered, it was almost eerie. His first-person perspective let him maneuver through a house he didn't recognize. He thought the decor was quite tasteful, something he could imagine a future home of his own being decorated like. A photo on the nightstand of himself between Albert and Jade caught his eye-they all looked still rather young. A series of frames lined a wall with his now-larger collection of coins; Jade let his terrariums fill space on shelves all over. His perusing led him down the hall, finding it also modestly decked with distinctly individual tastes that somehow came together nicely. The den had, of course, a piano he'd recognized as Albert’s family's own. A small dining table took up the space across from the den, on which neatly piled papers were beginning to skew and a starched, rendered Jade. The model had been filling out papers when the option to allow Azul to interact appeared.

"What a time to go, Dear. Hardly a wonder Albert disdains this part of the year. It's getting late; he's probably off shift by now."

Jade wrenched himself from his seat, leaving the unreadable paper alongside a newspaper clipping. Hovering over it allowed him to interact with that, too. The script of the image flashing on the screen only offered a picture and the beginning of an obituary.

"Azul Ashengrotto

Azul Ashengrotto, 30, of Altus, Shaftlands, died suddenly December 18th due to heart complications. The young restaurateur had established……"

"What?! No, that's not fair! I'm right here!" Azul about chucked the controller in defiance of what the screen had read. "So then, am I controlling my ghost? Someone else?"

"That's the neat thing about this game: it doesn't tell you," the spirit of Yuletide Future smirked. "What do you think you're seeing right now? Good ending? Bad ending? True ending? Only the devs know."

>Stay Here

This was such an 'Idia' answer. Azul went back to steering the camera towards the door, to follow Jade. The options when touching the door only offered:

>Follow Jade

So much for options. Taking the only logical path, he was greeted with a momentary loading screen. Out of the dark screen came a serene, but no less chilling sight. A cemetery blanketed in white, noiseless in its crystalline batting. Headstones stood straight and proud, cockeyed and crumbling, or simply hid much like the bodies they marked below them. Simulated snow crunched under his perspective’s non-existent feet as he trekked along the path. Where was Jade, though? Tire tracks weren’t of much help, plenty of vehicles seemed to have come by recently. A hushed voice could be heard, but it was difficult to follow.

“Sorry, I know you would have wanted to have the Lounge open today, but…I just can’t. It all just makes me think of you. I keep thinking I hear you, and I know it’s not. I should have led a better example-maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”

Once again, he could hear Albert’s voice. Closer and closer he came, the white ground making way for kicked up dirt and packed snow. Azul had finally come face to face with it: a plot of freshly dug dirt now packed back into place, and a modest headstone with room for two more names. Albert had been kneeling next to it talking to, assumedly, the contents of the grave. His face had been flushed red, raw with grief and the biting cold. This was only a game, but by the Seven, he just wanted to reach out and hold him, tell him he was right there. All Azul could do was position the camera down, to try prompting an interaction. Pressing the button to react, sent things into a cutscene. His hands reached out to hold his partner’s face, who seemed to react to his voice.

"Albert, I'm here. Please-I'm here, I'm not going anywhere."

It only made him withdraw further in to try containing more sobs. A car squeaked to a halt on the path further off, revealing Jade. The rendered figure strode over to rest his own arms around their simulated human. Game or not, he didn't want any of this to happen; he didn't want to die so young, he didn't want to be cried over…His frustration made the controller creak with the pressure he'd put on it. He felt so helpless as his character just sat there as the credits began to roll and his partners began to walk away.

"That's. NOT. Fair!" His fists beat on the coffee table, punctuating his words. "I did everything right! There has to be something…" He began pacing, wracking a quickly frazzling mind for some solution.

"You ought to slow down, you'll work yourself to death. Heh, 'work yourself to death', PFFF," the spirit mumbled, seeming to be enjoying Azul's squirming.

"What?! I'll show you!"

Azul whipped back at the ghost with a fist reeled back. But as he turned to sock him, what greeted him wasn't some Ghost of Future Yuletide. A skull, jagged in tooth and wreathed in blue flame, stared back. It made no indication of pain as the momentum carried Azul's fist into its jaw. The sight of it sent a frigid chill down his back. It began to advance closer, a hand now stretching out to grab him. Each step the blue-clad pile of bones made, Azul would take one back. It came a hair away from touching his cheek, if it weren't for the coffee table knocking into his legs and tripping him backwards into it.

His teetering sent him slamming onto the table, breaking it open, and once again sending him back down down down into darkness. His descent had been much quicker; cold hard wood bashed up against his back before more planks began to surround his front. Trapped. Dark, cold and alone, this would have been a comforting place similar to his octopot, if it weren't for the coffin shape surrounding him along with the smell of 6 feet of dirt on top. All that came out were screams, pleas and knocks from within the box. He beat against his confines for however long, his tears all but dried up. Before his exhaustion won out, he weakly pressed his face against the lid, some kind of last plea for release. But the lid hadn't felt like the rotted wood he'd been pummeling, but cool white tile.

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

Cool white tile that only Octavinelle's dorms had. Azul’s eyes fluttered open once more to find himself facing the floor. His back arched uncomfortably, legs hung over the side of the bed, and every sheet had been utterly rumpled. While it was uncomfortable, he didn't consider moving until his eyes had fully registered where he was, on some off chance shifting might send him back to where he was. But, when all seemed calm, did he finally chance to peel himself off the floor.

Stretch, lean, shake off the nightmarish remnants of sleep. He flopped back onto the bed, he wanted to re-register the sensation of his sheets, the tile, his nightwear. As he recognized each texture, and giving his heart a chance to slow, a knock came at the door. The knock was only a courtesy as, quickly after, the door burst open with Floyd dashing in. The eel must have been quick about waking and entering, what with his disheveled hair and pj's.

"What's up? Where're they? Who needs a squeeze? Eh? Azul, you okay?" Floyd demanded.

"We heard quite the commotion coming from your room and wanted to see what all the fuss-omph!"

Before Jade could finish, their boss hand wrangled the both of them into a tight hug.

"That must have been quite the nightmare," Jade finished with a quiet hum of amusement. He smoothed over his partner's hair, relishing his affection being leaned into.

"Yes-yes it was. What time is it?" He soon withdrew to better compose himself.

"It's like…a lil after 6.00, why? What're ya missing?" Floyd asked. His face drooped a little as his partner retreated.

"Then he might not be here yet. I still have time. We need to hurry and get to Pentergeist, quick. There's a few things I still need to bring, I need dressed…"

His scattered organizing was interrupted by Floyd’s sigh, "On top of opening the Lounge? Ehhhhh~ isn't he comin' over anyways?"

"Exactly why we have to hurry. We have to catch him before he gets over. Well? Go on, get ready."

Floyd groaned, reluctantly turning back to go change. But, his face immediately began to light up at the note Azul wagged in the air as he plodded towards the Lounge.

Anyone attempting to enter the Monstro Lounge would, instead of being greeted by eels, be greeted with a notice in a handwritten notice tacked to the door:

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"The Monstro Lounge will be closed on Yuletide, due to unforeseen circumstances. Business will resume regular hours 12/26. We apologize for the inconvenience.

-A. Ashengrotto"

Albert had a rather long night, prepping what was supposed to be a Yuletide meal for his partners and more to send off with Yuu as salvage for whatever they were met with when attending Malleus and company’s dinner invitation. The same nightmare that had plagued him for close to two years now had made its presence once again. But instead of being startled back awake from its familiar events, a knock jostled him from sleep. He almost forgot about his journey to the couch, now a bit thankful that he was closer to the door. But he wasn't expecting company. More over, looking at the clock showed he needed to hurry so he could make it to help opening the restaurant.

"Just a moment!" He called.

Al creaked for the door, both from the floorboards as well as his own chilled joints. Whoever was at the door, he hoped it was quick so he could-

"Happy Yule, Dear," Azul declared. His presence only received a confused look in response.

"Oh, sorry. I must have overslept, if you're coming to get me. Give me a moment, I'll-"

Albert wasn't able to finish, immediately being swept into another of Floyd's squeezes. Both twins erupted into peals of laughter, most in part from their human's even more confused expression.

"You're not goin' anywhere, Kajiki~"

"And neither am I," Azul added.

"I-I don't understand. Don't we have the Lounge to open?" Al asked.

"It seems Azul has had a change of heart since last night. I'm a bit curious as well what's come over him. Not to say I'm complaining," Jade noted.

Once Floyd came to release his human, Azul took to swooping in, grasping at him desperately close as if he'd disappear. Nothing mattered in that moment but the real, waking tangibleness in his arms. With just the twins to watch, he felt no shame holding Albert to take in everything from the bristle of his hair, to the faint wood smoke smell on him, to the subtle beat of his heart in time with his own. Al was more than happy to reciprocate, just content to bask in the moment.

"So then…?"

"Yes. We're having today off. I'm so sorry for just dismissing you like that. I've…come to realize how much you just want to look out for my health. Just know I plan on doing the same for you. All of you," Azul sighed.

"Eh? Is Azul gettin' all sappy now?" Floyd teased, poking at his cheek.

"No! I'm just stating my new year's resolutions early!"

"In any case," Jade interrupted, "while we are cold-blooded, it is dreadfully chill out. Won't our Gracious Host offer us inside?"

"Of course," Al smiled.

Everyone gathered in the modest little kitchen to begin their dinner prep. Drinks were passed, snacks chewed through like the logs on the fire, and a very specific set of cooking instructions Azul would ignore, having seen them once before. He had to feign surprise at the small custard desserts, but found himself anticipating them all the same. Everything slowly came together in the freshly renovated dining hall, when a knock rang out.

"Happy Yule~ Little Yuu here invited Malleus over. They also seemed to extend the offer to the rest of us; might we come in? If I'd have known sooner, I could have made a better cake, but I think this'll work in a pinch," Lilia announced. Yuu took up the rear of the procession of human and fae. A quick glance towards Azul, they gave both a surprised but welcoming smirk.

Before long, the table had finally been set, drinks passed and everyone sat down. Good thing, it seemed, as Grim had been getting antsy and taking chances to sneak a bite before the rest. Yuu took Grim into their lap as everyone else but Azul seated.

"I'd like to thank everyone for being here today. I understand it's a busy part of the year for everyone, but we come together like this…to give ourselves a chance to slow down." It was a bit difficult for Azul to keep himself composed. "While yes we have to work the rest of the year, time is a more precious commodity than anything. So we have to spend and invest it wisely. Thank you."

To that, everyone raised their glass in agreement.

"A Merry Yuletide, everybody!" Grim hollered.

#bunnwich winter event 2022 #twst writing #twst fanfic #oc x azul #azul ashengrotto x oc #octavinelle #octavinelle x oc #yuu x malleus #albert eastwind #eugenio hernandez #floyd leech #jade leech #malleus draconia #idia shroud #lilia vanrouge #kalim al asim

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pagerunner-j · 10 months

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All right, all right. This is a bad idea! I've been trying not to cross these streams for a long time! But: fuck it. Who fics ahead!

Long story short: I used to write under another pen name. I stopped using it and deleted my old journal after some personal crap, which still makes me feel sad and stupid, and I'd wanted at the time to scrub the slate clean. Some of what's still kicking around under my old username, though, includes stories at whofic.com, which predates AO3 and still exists, doing its Whovian thing.

So after recent fandom flashbacks, I've been rereading my old stuff. Which has been...interesting!

Obligatory disclaimer: oh, god, do I want to edit everything. These date back as far as 2005, and so certain old habits linger, like the fact that I hadn't yet gotten over my torrid love affairs with the semicolon and the ellipsis. I want to fix the occasional dips into overwrought nonsense. I'm also looking at some of the more adult content and thinking, "Okay, that went from 0-60 a wee bit fast. Calm the hell down, self."

BUT: there's also stuff here I like! And about which I'm thinking "crap, I used to be good at this," because I can never leave myself alone!

Anyway, here's a few stories from the "this does not shame me" pile, plus notes:

Gen

Translations (Ten/Rose) Original description: There are some things the TARDIS doesn't translate, and some secrets of the Doctor's left unexplained. Rose is setting out to find out why.

Probably the best thing of mine on this archive, and one of the most developed narratives. The sneaky, sneaky merchant, whose storyline never quite gets resolved (on purpose), was one of my better ideas. The other was Rose interpreting the TARDIS console's layout as looking like a Gallifreyan word. And, for that matter, Rose's name looking like an actual flower. Thank you, DW designers, for a completely impractical but extremely cool-looking written language. Also, the fact that the marketplace has thirteen floors, and they were on the tenth? Yeah, yeah, that was on the nose. I note that since then, the showrunners have thrown the Doctor's thirteen-regenerations limit out the window, for perfectly understandable reasons, but it was still kicking around at the time.

Roundabout (Nine/Rose) Original description: Time and possibilities keep turning. an exploration of the Doctor and Rose's relationship throughout the series. Spoilers for all [first season] episodes.

The other one that I'd file under "hey, you wrote a story! And it's not bad! Good job, self!" file. I really loved Nine and Rose, and I went to town with it here. I also got completely self-indulgent in a few places. As one does. The scene at the club is my favorite on that account. This quip of Jack's to the Doctor was, among other things, a sidelong nod to a few of my feelings about American polarization, and believe me, It's worse now: "It's Saturday night. We're in one of the last great cities of post-Dissolution America. And the most handsome man in the club has just bought you an Electric Comet. Do yourself a favor. Get drunk." Also, the reason Rose thinks she knows the music that's playing is that it's 110% a quote from a Billie Piper song. I don't think anybody ever noticed, but it's there.

Outgeniused (or: How to Get Fired From the Apple Store in Three Easy Steps) (Ten, OC) Original description: Kate Stowe's seen a lot of strange problems come up at the Genius Bar, but this one qualifies as the strangest she's seen yet. Presenting a bit of shameless insanity, featuring the Doctor, a race of aliens with quite inconvenient taste, and several unorthodox ways to break your iPod's warranty. (In other words: crackfic ahead!)

I really wasn't kidding about that last line. This one is unabashed ridiculousness, inspired by your author doing a seasonal stint in Apple retail that left a goddamn mark. Sadly, the Doctor never swung by my store. A lot of real-life tidbits did make their way into this story, though. And despite all odds, it's got a plot! Fun facts (for nerds): the product line was accurate as of the time I wrote this. The iPod shuffle disclaimer I was talking about? That was absolutely a thing. And my favorite line is still the Doctor apologizing for not getting AppleCare, because I had to pitch that to so many people. I have never once bought it for myself. No regrets. Don't tell Tim. Also, apparently the UK really has gone all-in on Black Friday since I wrote this. I have to ask: why? Why must you import the worst of our capitalistic excesses? You really didn't have to! Le sigh.

The Naughty Bits

A Matter of Timing (Ten/Rose) Original description: In matters of love, sex and the technicalities thereof, somebody better be thinking ahead. Rose/Ten, post-Journey's End.

Short, sweet, and silly. This one's about Rose and the clone of Ten off in their parallel universe, and exists for the sake of the conversation they're having, which is in part about the mechanics of that whole cloning thing. Although it's mostly about the sex. Which they are absolutely and enthusiastically having the whole damn time. ("Haven't ever seen that on a clock" is still my favorite line.)

Slightly Psychic Confessions (Nine/Rose/Jack) Original description: Getting caught with slightly psychic paper in one's hands can be a dangerous thing indeed.

Like it says on the tin. 90% of the reason this was written was so I could play with the props, and the dialogue (both spoken and psychically transcribed) is the part I most enjoy, although I've been told the rest of it's pretty okay too. ...yes, the rest of it is a threesome. Stop looking at me like that.

Selfish Dreams (Ten/Rose) Original description: Wherein solutions to lingering nightmares lead to a different sort of sleeplessness. Slightly spoilery through "The Satan Pit."

Sometimes I get creepy, even with characters I love and will ship forever. This one was mostly me thinking through some of the...potentially fraught...implications of Ten's psychic abilities, and is one of my "I guess I'm preoccupied with nightmares and dreams, because I'm gonna come back to that in a few different ways" stories in this archive. Anyway, none of what they're up to here is what I'd consider a good idea. At least Rose enjoyed herself, though.

Forgetting the Nightmare (Nine/Jack) Original description: In which neither the Doctor nor Jack can get any sleep, but for very different reasons.

As I was saying. This is about a plot point from the show I'd forgotten about since writing this: Jack's two years of missing memory. (So, yes, apparently mine's missing too. It's been A LONG TIME, okay?) He's having some issues coming to terms with that. So how do I decide to have them address it? Boinking on the TARDIS floor, apparently. ...ahem. Anyway, as is the case with a lot of the shit I wrote, it's a little emotionally messy. It also hints at a few things that are still very much up for interpretation. Less in need of puzzling out is that yes, the two lost years are represented by the two burned-out lights on the console they're trying to fix, because I am occasionally as subtle as a brick.

Beyond Locked Doors (Ten/Reinette) Original description: A glimpse into Reinette's memories and dreams throughout the events of "The Girl in the Fireplace."

Yeah, this is one of those that dips into being overwrought, and yes, my inner editor is bitching at me about sacrificing clarity in the process. But writing from Reinette's POV was a fun exercise. It's a very different flavor from everything else here. Also, just to get this stated, you still can't tell me that the "dance with me" line in the show and those two disappearing off screen together wasn't also Moffat being subtle as a brick with his metaphors, so I still feel justified in writing this one. The (implied) sex was canon and I will die on that hill.

So Brief, In Bloom (Ten/Reinette) Original description: Wherein the Doctor thinks of other ways this could have gone.

And now...things go south. I'm pretty sure I'm the only weirdo who cared about this story. It is, let's be fair, also weird. This is about Ten being haunted by the idea of what might have happened if he did get Reinette to come along with him, and what the ramifications of that change might be. Not overtly stated, but it's there, is that in this alternate timeline, Rose didn't take well to this idea, and eventually left. The result is some Seriously Conflicted Feelings. And some ill-advised attempts at banishing them. I once got a comment on my old journal from somebody who didn't understand the last line. it's oblique on purpose, and you're invited to imagine your own version, but what was going on in my head was that back in the actual timeline, Ten absolutely had his way with Rose against that very same wall to try to scrub the idea of the other timeline out of his head. Considering that the wayward strand of hair he found could have belonged to either her or Reinette, though? It...didn't exactly help.

A Laugh Like Thunder (The Master/Lucy) Original description: The Master and Lucy on the eve of destruction, thinking of what's to come. (Spoilers through "The Sound of Drums.")

I'm including this here solely because I'd forgotten about it until I trawled back through my archive, and was thus smacked upside the head with the facts that A: it existed at all, B: this thing went places, and C: I started it off with, "On the eve of destruction, the Prime Minister tied his wife to the bedposts and began to think of another man." Go off, self.

#doctor who #fics

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omninoz-technologies · 5 months

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The Next Big Thing: Exploring the World of Cash App Clone

In today's fast-paced world, managing finances has become more convenient than ever before, thanks to the emergence of innovative mobile applications. Among these, the Cash App has garnered significant attention for its user-friendly interface and seamless money transfer capabilities. But what if you could replicate its success with your own custom solution? Enter the Cash App Clone – a revolutionary concept that is reshaping the financial landscape.

Understanding the Cash App Phenomenon

Cash App, developed by Square Inc., has become synonymous with peer-to-peer payments, allowing users to send and receive money effortlessly. With its straightforward design and intuitive features, it has amassed millions of users worldwide, transforming the way people handle their finances.

The Birth of Cash App Clone

Inspired by the success of the Cash App, developers and entrepreneurs have sought to create their own versions of this popular platform. These clones aim to replicate the core functionalities of the Cash App while offering additional features tailored to specific user needs.

How Does a Cash App Clone Work?

A Cash App Clone operates on a similar principle to its predecessor – facilitating secure transactions between users. Users can link their bank accounts or debit cards to the app, enabling them to send money to friends, family, or merchants with just a few taps on their smartphone.

Features That Make a Cash App Clone Stand Out

While the basic premise remains consistent across Cash App Clone, developers often integrate unique features to differentiate their product. These may include:

In-app chat functionality for seamless communication.

Integration with popular payment gateways for added convenience.

Personalized reward programs to incentivize usage.

Budgeting tools and financial insights to help users manage their money effectively.

Benefits of Using a Cash App Clone

The adoption of a Cash App Clone offers numerous benefits to both individuals and businesses alike:

Convenience: Instantly send or receive money anytime, anywhere.

Accessibility: Reach a broader audience with cross-platform compatibility.

Cost-effectiveness: Avoid the hefty transaction fees associated with traditional banking methods.

Security: Benefit from robust encryption protocols to safeguard sensitive information.

Flexibility: Customize the app to suit your specific requirements, whether it's for personal use or business transactions.

Security Measures to Safeguard Your Transactions

With the proliferation of digital payment solutions, security concerns have understandably become a top priority for users. Cash App Clone addresses these concerns by implementing stringent security measures, such as:

Two-factor authentication (2FA) is used to prevent unauthorized access.

End-to-end encryption to protect sensitive data during transmission.

Regular security audits and updates to mitigate potential vulnerabilities.

Future Prospects of Cash App Clones

As society continues to embrace digitalization, the demand for innovative financial solutions is expected to soar. Cash App Clone is well-positioned to capitalize on this

trend, offering a convenient and secure alternative to traditional banking methods. With ongoing advancements in technology, the possibilities for future iterations of Cash App Clone are virtually limitless.

In conclusion, the rise of Cash App Clone represent a paradigm shift in how we interact with money. By harnessing the power of mobile technology, these clones empower users to take control of their finances with ease and confidence. Whether you're a tech-savvy individual or a forward-thinking entrepreneur, embracing this revolution could be the key to unlocking financial freedom in the digital age.

Ready to explore the future of financial technology? Dive into the world of Cash App clone and discover the next big thing in digital transactions. Join us at Omninoz to stay ahead of the curve and revolutionize the way you handle your finances. Let's embark on this exciting journey together!

#Omninoz #Cash App Clone #App clone

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orthodoxydaily · 9 months

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Saints &reading: Sunday, December 17, 2023

december 4_december 17

THE HOLY GREATMARTYR BARBARA (306)

The Holy Great-martyr Barbara lived and suffered during the reign of Emperor Maximian (305-311). Her father, a pagan named Dioscoros, was an eminent, wealthy man who lived in the town of Heliopolis in Phoenicia. Widowed early in life, he focused all of his devotion upon his only daughter. Seeing Barbara’s extraordinary beauty, Dioscoros decided to raise her out of the sight of others. To this end, he erected a tower in which only Barbara and her pagan teachers dwelt. Below the tower was spread out the length and breadth of God’s world. During the day, one could view the wooded hills, the fast-flowing rivers, and the plains, carpeted with flowers. At night, a great sea of lights presented sights of inexpressible beauty. Soon the maiden began to ask herself about the Creator and the reason behind such a harmonious and marvelous world. Gradually, she came to the firm conclusion that the lifeless idols which her father and her teachers worshipped were works of human hands, incapable of having so wisely and marvelously ordered the world around her. The desire to know the Truth of God so gripped Barbara’s soul that she decided to devote her life to it, and to spend her life in virginity.

Her beauty gained renown throughout the city, and many sought her hand. However, despite her father’s loving entreaties, she refused to marry. Barbara warned her father that his insistence might result in tragedy, separating them forever. Dioscoros decided that life in isolation had affected his daughter’s character. He allowed her to leave the tower, and allowed her total freedom in choosing her friends and acquaintances. In the city, the maiden met young confessors of the Christian Faith who taught her about the Divine Logos, Creator of the world. Some time later, by God’s Providence, a priest disguised as a merchant came to Heliopolis. He performed the rite of Holy Baptism over Barbara.

At that time, Dioscoros was having a large bathhouse built at his home. He left instructions that two windows be installed on the South side. However, in her father’s absence, Barbara arranged to have the workers install a third window, to create an image of the Triune Light. Over the entrance to the bathhouse, where Barbara described the outline of a Cross, the image became firmly impressed on the stone. A spring burst forth from the place where her footprints had landed on the steps of the bathhouse. Later it manifested great healing powers.

In his account of the holy martyr’s sufferings, Symeon Metaphrastes compared the spring to the life-giving power of the Jordan and the pool of Siloam. When Dioscoros returned and expressed dissatisfaction with the alterations made to the plan of construction, his daughter related to him her coming to know the Triune God, the salvific power of the Son of God, and the futility of idol worship. Dioscoros became angry, and unsheathed his sword to strike her. The maiden ran from her father, and he followed in pursuit. A fissure in a mountain along the way opened to hide the saint. At its other end, an opening led upward. St. Barbara managed to hide in a cave on the other side of the mountain. After a long and fruitless search for his daughter, Dioscoros saw two shepherds on the mountainside. One of them showed him the cave in which the saint had hidden herself. Dioscoros cruelly beat his daughter, locked her up under guard, and for a long time tortured her with hunger. Finally, he handed her over to Markianos, governor of the city. St. Barbara was cruelly tortured. They flogged her with rawhide whips, and abraded her wounds with a coarse hair cloth. At night, the Lord Himself visited the fervently praying saint in prison, and tended to her wounds. Later, the saint was subjected to new, even more cruel trials.

Juliana, a resident of Heliopolis and a Christian, was standing in the crowd near the place of the saint’s torture. Witnessing the beautiful and renowned maiden’s voluntary martyrdom, her heart overflowed with compassion. Wanting to suffer for Christ as well, she began to loudly denounce the torturers. She was taken. The holy martyrs were subjected to lengthy trials: Their flesh was ripped with iron hooks, their breasts were severed, and they were led naked throughout the city, to be subjected to ridicule and beatings. Heeding St. Barbara’s prayers, the Lord sent an angel, who covered the naked saints with glistening garments. Resolute confessors of the Christian Faith, Sts. Barbara and Juliana were beheaded. Dioscoros himself put Barbara to death. God’s retribution fell quickly upon Markianos and Dioscoros; both were consumed by lightning.

In the 6th Century, the relics of the Saint were translated to Constantinople. In the 12th Century, Princess Barbara, daughter of the Byzantine Emperor Alexis Comnenos (1081-1118) married the Russian Prince Michael Izyaslavitch, and brought the relics with her to Kiev. They rest in the Cathedral of St. Vladimir to this day.

Source: Russion Orthodox Cathedral of St John the baptist

St JOHN DAMASCENE (760)

Saint John of Damascus was born about the year 680 at Damascus, Syria into a Christian family. His father, Sergius Mansur, was a treasurer at the court of the Caliph. John had also a foster brother, the orphaned child Cosmas (October 14), whom Sergius had taken into his own home. When the children were growing up, Sergius saw that they received a good education. At the Damascus slave market he ransomed the learned monk Cosmas of Calabria from captivity and entrusted to him the teaching of his children. The boys displayed uncommon ability and readily mastered their courses of the secular and spiritual sciences. After the death of his father, John occupied ministerial posts at court and became the city prefect.

In Constantinople at that time, the heresy of Iconoclasm had arisen and quickly spread, supported by the emperor Leo III the Isaurian (717-741). Rising up in defense of the Orthodox veneration of icons [Iconodoulia], Saint John wrote three treatises entitled, “Against Those who Revile the Holy Icons.” The wise and God-inspired writings of Saint John enraged the emperor. But since the author was not a Byzantine subject, the emperor was unable to lock him up in prison, or to execute him. The emperor then resorted to slander. A forged letter to the emperor was produced, supposedly from John, in which the Damascus official was supposed to have offered his help to Leo in conquering the Syrian capital.

This letter and another hypocritically flattering note were sent to the Saracen Caliph by Leo the Isaurian. The Caliph immediately ordered that Saint John be removed from his post, that his right hand be cut off, and that he be led through the city in chains.

That same evening, they returned the severed hand to Saint John. The saint pressed it to his wrist and prayed to the Most Holy Theotokos to heal him so that he could defend the Orthodox Faith and write once again in praise of the Most Pure Virgin and Her Son. After a time, he fell asleep before the icon of the Mother of God. He heard Her voice telling him that he had been healed, and commanding him to toil unceasingly with his restored hand. Upon awakening, he found that his hand had been attached to his arm once more. Only a small red mark around his wrist remained as a sign of the miracle.

Later, in thanksgiving for being healed, Saint John had a silver model of his hand attached to the icon, which became known as “Of the Three Hands.” Some unlearned painters have given the Mother of God three hands instead of depicting the silver model of Saint John’s hand. The Icon “Of the Three Hands” is commemorated on June 28 and July 12.

When he learned of the miracle, which demonstrated John’s innocence, the Caliph asked his forgiveness and wanted to restore him to his former office, but the saint refused. He gave away his riches to the poor, and went to Jerusalem with his stepbrother and fellow-student, Cosmas. There he entered the monastery of Saint Savva the Sanctified as a simple novice.

It was not easy for him to find a spiritual guide, because all the monks were daunted by his great learning and by his former rank. Only one very experienced Elder, who had the skill to foster the spirit of obedience and humility in a student, would consent to do this. The Elder forbade John to do anything at all according to his own will. He also instructed him to offer to God all his labors and supplications as a perfect sacrifice, and to shed tears which would wash away the sins of his former life.

Once, he sent the novice to Damascus to sell baskets made at the monastery, and commanded him to sell them at a certain inflated price, far above their actual value. He undertook the long journey under the searing sun, dressed in rags. No one in the city recognized the former official of Damascus, for his appearance had been changed by prolonged fasting and ascetic labors. However, Saint John was recognized by his former house steward, who bought all the baskets at the asking price, showing compassion on him for his apparent poverty.

One of the monks happened to die, and his brother begged Saint John to compose something consoling for the burial service. Saint John refused for a long time, but out of pity he yielded to the petition of the grief-stricken monk, and wrote his renowned funeral troparia (“What earthly delight,” “All human vanity,” and others). For this disobedience the Elder banished him from his cell. John fell at his feet and asked to be forgiven, but the Elder remained unyielding. All the monks began to plead for him to allow John to return, but he refused. Then one of the monks asked the Elder to impose a penance on John, and to forgive him if he fulfilled it. The Elder said, “If John wishes to be forgiven, let him wash out all the chamber pots in the lavra, and clean the monastery latrines with his bare hands.”

John rejoiced and eagerly ran to accomplish his shameful task. After a certain while, the Elder was commanded in a vision by the All-Pure and Most Holy Theotokos to allow Saint John to write again. When the Patriarch of Jerusalem heard of Saint John, he ordained him priest and made him a preacher at his cathedral. But Saint John soon returned to the Lavra of Saint Savva, where he spent the rest of his life writing spiritual books and church hymns. He left the monastery only to denounce the iconoclasts at the Constantinople Council of 754. They subjected him to imprisonment and torture, but he endured everything, and through the mercy of God he remained alive. He died in about the year 780, more than 100 years old.

Saint John of Damascus was a theologian and a zealous defender of Orthodoxy. His most important book is the Fount of Knowledge. The third section of this work, “On the Orthodox Faith,” is a summary of Orthodox doctrine and a refutation of heresy. Since he was known as a hymnographer, we pray to Saint John for help in the study of church singing.

Source: Orthodox Church in America_OCA

LUKE 24:36-53

36 Now as they said these things, Jesus Himself stood in the midst of them, and said to them, "Peace to you." 37 But they were terrified and frightened, and supposed they had seen a spirit. 38 And He said to them, "Why are you troubled? And why do doubts arise in your hearts? 39 Behold My hands and My feet, that it is I Myself. Handle Me and see, for a spirit does not have flesh and bones as you see I have. 40 When He had said this, He showed them His hands and His feet. 41 But while they still did not believe for joy, and marveled, He said to them, "Have you any food here?" 42 So they gave Him a piece of a broiled fish and some honeycomb. 43 And He took it and ate in their presence. 44 Then He said to them, "These are the words which I spoke to you while I was still with you, that all things must be fulfilled which were written in the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms concerning Me." 45 And He opened their understanding, that they might comprehend the Scriptures. 46 Then He said to them, "Thus it is written, and thus it was necessary for the Christ to suffer and to rise from the dead the third day, 47 and that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in His name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. 48 And you are witnesses of these things. 49 Behold, I send the Promise of My Father upon you; but tarry in the city of Jerusalem until you are endued with power from on high. 50 And He led them out as far as Bethany, and He lifted up His hands and blessed them. 51 Now it came to pass, while He blessed them, that He was parted from them and carried up into heaven. 52 And they worshiped Him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy, 53 and were continually in the temple praising and blessing God. Amen.

LUKE 24:36-53

#orthodoxy #orthodoxchristianity #easternorthodoxchurch #originofchristianity #spirituality #holyscriptures #bible #gospel #wisdom #saints

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mariacallous · 9 months

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When the Houthis attacked the Israeli-linked merchant vessel Galaxy Leader on Nov. 19, it was clear that shipping had entered a new and dangerous phase. Not only did the militia, which rules parts of Yemen, successfully take over a large tanker sailing in the Red Sea: It also filmed the undertaking, which garnered massive global attention. Since then, the attacks have accelerated at such an extraordinary rate that the world’s largest shipping companies will no longer sail through the Red Sea.

That means reduced traffic through the Suez Canal and the Red Sea—and harm to Egypt’s economy. The collision between Middle Eastern acrimony and global shipping means that you’ll have to wait longer for some of your favorite consumer goods.

One must grant the Houthis this: The video they released after seizing the Galaxy Leader and taking its crew hostage was slick. That, of course, was the point. The Houthis were eager to tell the world that they could target any ship they liked. Indeed, the Iran-linked force declared that any Israeli ship might encounter the same fate as the Galaxy Leader. That was no consolation for ships not owned by Israeli firms: The Houthis would define what constituted an Israeli-linked ship.

And since then, the attacks have accelerated fast. All manner of ships traversing the Red Sea have been targeted with missiles, drones, or attempted seizures. On Dec. 12, for example, Houthi fighters fired a missile on the Norwegian-owned tanker Strinda, claiming that it was headed for Israel when it was in fact en route to Italy. Two days later, a tanker owned by Danish shipping line A.P. Moller Maersk was targeted in the Bab el-Mandeb Strait, which connects the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden, and the day after that, a Hapag-Lloyd-owned container ship was hit. On Dec. 18, another three ships were hit in the Red Sea, including the Cayman Islands-flagged chemical tanker Swan Atlantic.

Western naval vessels are trying to help their merchant-navy colleagues. On Dec. 16, the U.K. Royal Navy’s HMS Diamond shot down a Houthi missile fired against a tanker. The French Navy’s FS Languedoc has downed a drone. Within one morning, USS Carney downed 14 drones heading toward merchant vessels.

But even such help hasn’t calmed the rapidly growing alarm among global shipping lines. On Dec. 15, Maersk and Hapag-Lloyd announced that they were diverting their ships away from the Red Sea. Two days later, CMA CGM of France, the Swiss giant MSC, and China’s Yang Ming joined the exodus from the storied strip of water that connects the Suez Canal (and thus the Mediterranean) with the Bab el-Mandeb Strait (and thus the Indian Ocean). Maersk, MSC, and Hapag-Lloyd represent around 40 percent of ocean shipping.

Their departure is likely to cause a dramatic plunge in traffic through the Suez Canal, which accounts for 12 percent of global trade and an astonishing 30 percent of container shipping. On an average day, 50 ships travel through the canal, transporting $3 billion to $9 billion worth of cargo. The Red Sea, which has nearly the same amount of traffic (and which also serves many local ports, including Jeddah, Djibouti, the Port of Sudan, Egypt’s Safaga, and Aden), stands to lose in equal measure. Western navies are trying their best, but it’s no surprise that the shipping lines are diverting their ships.

“The change in dynamic here is that it isn’t shipping caught up in the crossfire of conflict, such as the war in Ukraine, but shipping being directly targeted,” said Simon Lockwood, an executive in charge of shipping at the global insurance broker Willis Towers Watson. War insurance premiums for vessels traversing the Red Sea have already risen to headline rates of at least 0.7 percent of the value of a ship’s cargo. Only Russia’s and Ukraine’s ports have significantly higher war risk headline rates, of around 1 percent.

At a 0.7 percent rate, a ship carrying $1 million worth of cargo through the Red Sea pays $70,000 in war risk insurance alone. And the ship’s owners will pass that cost on. “The first thing that happens when the risks to ships increase is that the premiums rise; that’s how war insurance works,” said Svein Ringbakken, the managing director of the Oslo-based maritime war risk underwriter Den Norske Krigsforsikring for Skib. “And long-established mechanisms help shipping companies pass on these costs to their customers,” he added.

The Houthis’ campaign is, in fact, already wreaking havoc on global shipping. “The East-West container trade relies on the Red Sea and the Suez Canal,” Lockwood noted. “With the major lines diverting to other routes, there will be significant delays and increased cost. And there will be knock-on effects on international trade.”

Ringbakken added: “Now large shipping companies are including in their contracts the option of going around the Cape of Good Hope. That means an additional 10-12 days, or longer in case of tankers that don’t travel very fast. That means that transportation costs will also rise significantly.” The suddenly much longer routes also mean logistical disruption in global supply chains. “We’re entering the same territory as during COVID and after Ever Given,” Ringbakken said. “It’s not good news for the globalized economy. People will have to wait longer for their goods.”

On Dec. 17, the chairman of the Suez Canal Authority (SCA), Osama Rabea, said that since the attack on the Galaxy Leader, 55 vessels had opted to instead travel via the Cape of Good Hope. That’s a small number compared to the 2,128 ships that traversed the canal during that period, but with the major shipping lines just having announced their diversions from the Red Sea, it’s likely to rise sharply.

Even Operation Prosperity Guardian, the aptly named mission to protect Red Sea shipping announced by the U.S. Defense Department, won’t be able to fully restore calm to the choppy waters. The operation’s participating naval vessels will have to act with restraint lest they accidentally trigger a conflict with the Houthis and, by extension, Iran. And if they do use force against the Houthis, for example by firing retaliatory missiles, it still leaves merchant vessels exposed to whatever violence the Houthis decide to visit on them.

Indeed, shipping has become the new front line of geopolitics. As I have documented in Foreign Policy and elsewhere, Iran and Israel have for years been engaged in a proxy war involving shipping, and more recently, China has stepped up its harassment of Philippine vessels to frighten the global shipping industry—and as a result, manufacturers—away from the Philippines.

There is, of course, very little that shipping lines can do to deter such determined attackers, and no navy is large enough to provide escort to all the merchant vessels that might need it.

Even 10 years ago, the necessary technology was so expensive and inaccessible that not even the most ambitious Houthi commander could have pulled off a drone attack on a merchant vessel. But it’s not just that military-style technology has become affordable: The Houthis have identified a gap in global shipping, which can mostly protect itself against piracy and has contingency plans for war.

Until late November, though, shipping lines hadn’t reckoned with sophisticated attacks by statelike militias. The Houthis’ successful campaign in the Red Sea is, in fact, likely to inspire other proxy forces to seek fame and power through attacks on merchant vessels.

In addition to the shipping lines and their customers, there’s one clear loser from the unfolding tanker war: Egypt. The SCA provides one of the country’s most significant and most stable incomes. Between June 2022 and June this year, the SCA saw its revenues reach a record high of $9.4 billion. During that time, 25,887 ships passed through the canal, up from 23,800 during the previous fiscal year. It’s hardly surprising that Rabea, the SCA chairman, has been at pains to reassure shipowners that the risks facing ships in the Suez Canal are manageable.

The question, though, is how Cairo will respond to the predicament posed by the tanker conflict and the harm that it’s causing Egypt. Could it decide to try to punish Iran and the Houthis? That, of course, brings the risk of the tanker war exploding into a more wide-ranging and deadlier one.

Forces keen on disruption have decided that shipping is an extremely attractive target, and it’s even more attractive because some of the world’s most convenient shipping lanes are in geopolitically choppy Middle Eastern waters. Get ready for delayed goods and more expensive consumer products. I hope you bought your Christmas presents long ago. Happy Holidays!

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