#i’m so obsessed and enchanted by him your honor | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fericita-s · 5 years

Text

Mating Season (Chapter 1)

This is a Kristoff/Anna story that takes place in an AU where Anna grew up Northuldra in the Enchanted Forest with her family. Kristoff is from a nearby tribe and comes to the forest for a reindeer exchange. It’s the same universe as All is Found, which @the-spastic-fantastic and I wrote together, and a big thanks to her for helping me develop this and for beta-ing. This is part one of three; I’ll post the next tomorrow and the next Wednesday.

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

***

It was no surprise to Elsa that Anna saw Kristoff and immediately claimed him. Wanting an epic love story was something Anna was always dreaming about and talking about and sighing about. Elsa suspected it was more for entertainment than an actual need for love, because Anna quickly tired of the men she spotted and cooed over. Sometimes before ever even talking to them.

She had ruled out every man in their Northuldra tribe. “Yuck! They’re all like brothers or uncles or cousins or feel that way even if they’re not. It’s alright for you; it was very romantic that you surprised everyone including Honeymaren by liking girls. Maybe I’m like Papa. I’ll have to go somewhere else to find it.”

But on their trip to Arendelle when Anna was sixteen, she dismissed the entire kingdom by saying “I do like how tall most of them are, but wow are they obsessed with saunas. It would never work.”

Elsa had laughed to hear that the one trait that made Anna, a daughter of Northuldra, incompatible with Arendellian men was sauna usage and not, say, living entirely indoors or leaving the magical enchantments of their forest behind.

Once a young man with red hair had stumbled into their lands, asking for help and claiming to be escaping the ire of his brothers. Yelana had turned him out immediately, though Anna had said he seemed handsome enough to warrant a hearing before the elders.

Yelana had refused. “There’s something wrong with him. I can just tell.”

At first, Anna’s parents had worried about this obsession she seemed to have with love, but when it didn’t manifest into her doing anything crazy, they relaxed about it. Her mother even intimated that she should be more patient with the men who were clearly interested in her. Anna had wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

“No! I want a story like you and Papa. It’s so romantic. You almost died for each other! I’d get too bored loving a man from here.”

Iduna had stroked Anna’s hair, pulling her close before she spoke. “How could love between two people ever be boring? The person you most admire admires you the most. That's a miracle.” Iduna stroked her hair again, grateful that even at twenty, Anna still enjoyed cuddling with her. “Like boska keeping sickness away or reindeer all calving within ten days of each other. It’s common, but that doesn't make it less beautiful. It’s a daily sacrifice, sometimes of small things and sometimes big.”

So when Anna had seen Kristoff shake Yelana’s hand and told Elsa that he was hers, Elsa had laughed and rolled her eyes. Walking back towards the village, she and Honeymaren had talked about how long it would be until Anna found him “too something” as well.

***

Gathered around the fire, the people of the Black Mountain huddled in small groups. Anna noticed they seemed tense, the lines of their mouth not turning into smiles even when Bruni showed off by lighting torches that had been set in a pattern honoring the tribe’s antler symbol. The ones holding walking staffs gripped them tightly and their eyes were alert and sharp as they watched the festivities. They stayed at the edge of everything, rather than joining in with the singing.

“They probably don’t know the songs. Not everyone knows Northuldra chants,” Elsa said when Anna pointed this out. “Besides, don’t pretend you’re watching more than just their leader. Kristoff. He’s more dour than them all. Some of the others are having fun.”

She pointed at one young boy who Ryder lifted onto a reindeer, showing him how this particular one liked to be scratched behind his left ear. “See? He’s having a good time.”

Anna looked at Kristoff. She had been doing so most of the evening and had stopped bothering trying to hide her glances. He wasn’t paying attention. He was glowering into the fire, eyebrows knit together, arms crossed. “He’s sad, not dour. And I’m going to find out why.”

Elsa linked her arm through Anna’s. “He’s not a wounded ptarmigan or lame fox you can nurse back to health. He’s a grown man. He seems to be doing just fine leading his people. He might just have a different way of doing it than we do here.”

“So that’s a ‘no’ from you on extracting ice memories from him?”

“They’ll be here for several months. I’m sure you can get him to talk to you at some point. Taking his memories seems a bit rushed. And unethical. And possibly crazy.”

Anna pulled her arm away from Elsa’s. She crossed her arms over her chest and stuck her tongue out at her sister. “I’m not crazy. I’m curious. Aren’t you?”

Elsa looked to where Honeymaren was showing a group of children how she could toss a crowberry in the air and catch it in her mouth. Anna followed her gaze.

“Oh fine. Go join her and leave me to my skulking.”

Elsa laughed. “Good luck.”

As Anna watched Elsa sidle up to Honeymaren and hold her hand, her mind wandered to her earlier attempts to talk to Kristoff. He had given two word answers to all of her questions about the Black Mountain (“It’s beautiful.”) and their reindeer (“They’re strong.”) and their strangely shaped saws (“Harvesting ice.”). Even telling him about her sister’s ability to make ice from nothingness just elicited a raised eyebrow in reply, no marveling wonder or eagerness to see it happen. And when she had offered him some dried elk, he had refused, saying that his people had brought their own supplies and wouldn’t start their time together by taking from the food stores of the Northuldra.

Perhaps that was why he was sitting alone now. The Northuldra had been preparing food and drink for the welcome celebration for weeks, but Kristoff was not partaking at all. He sat on a log by the fire. He had his pack resting next to him and there was a reindeer nearby with its head tucked into its side, looking sleepy. There, Anna thought. If a reindeer thought he was kind, he must be. Reindeer were very good judges of character. Anna cleared her throat and walked over to him.

“Would you like to lead the next round of singing? I’ve noticed Black Mountain voices haven’t been joining in with ours. But if you started a song your people knew…we could join in.” Anna smiled at him and he looked up. The reindeer did too and nudged something out of Kristoff’s pack, pushing it forward. Anna saw what it was, clasped her hands together and sat down next to him, thinking that his reindeer seemed friendlier than he did.

“A lute! Do you play? Oh you should play for us! That will be just the thing to make this party seem even more like a party.”

Kristoff picked up the lute and shoved it back into his pack, giving the reindeer a reproachful look. “No , I don’t think I’ll play tonight.” He scratched his reindeer under its muzzle and Anna thought it seemed like an apology for his earlier glare. What a strange man, to be so polite to reindeer and so rude to humans.

“He seems like a special reindeer. Does he always sit next to you during celebrations?”

Kristoff didn’t answer, but she continued talking, looking at the reindeer and extending her hand for him to sniff. “My parents used to let me sleep with the baby reindeer, especially the calves who needed extra care after a birthing where the mother was lost. They would joke about the smell, but I always liked it. Kind of a homey smell, like smoke and sun and dirt and cold. But they never let us keep any as a pet, really. Too hard when we use them for meat and furs. I was six when I realized that herding reindeer meant occasionally slaughtering reindeer and I cried so hard about it that my mother took me on a gathering trip to let me cry without bothering everyone else. Just the two of us. She showed me where she and my father had their first house, or cave, really, and where the best cloudberries are, and how we depend on plants and animals to make us strong, and that we should be grateful for the gift they give us of their strength. It was thrilling to be with only her and not share her with my sister. Sleeping out in the open under the stars with someone you love – I don’t think there’s anything better.” She fell silent, beginning to stroke Sven’s velvety ears, and remembering those baby reindeer she had cuddled through spring nights that had a sharp edge of cold to them despite the hint of summer in the daytime.

“Sven is more of a friend than a pet.”

Anna almost continued talking without realizing he had spoken. She had started to feel like she was telling a fussy toddler a bedtime story, not trying to have a conversation. She tilted her head and looked at Kristoff. “Sven?”

“Sven. Yes. My reindeer. This reindeer.”

Anna put her hands on Sven’s ears, stroking the soft skin. “Sven. I’m very pleased to meet you. Thank you for coming all this way, and I hope you enjoy your time here with the Northuldra.”

Sven grunted and tucked his head back into his side, once more looking like he was ready to sleep.

“Thank you.” Kristoff was looking at her and she was so surprised by his words she couldn’t think of anything to say in return. He didn’t seem to know what to do with the silence either and reached a hand to scratch at his beard, repeating himself. “Thank you.”

Anna thought about asking what he was thanking her for – talking to his reindeer? Not thinking it weird that he named his reindeer and called it his friend? The celebration? The welcome into the Forest? Not minding that he’d refused all hospitality and wouldn’t sing? For sitting next to him? But she stilled those questions, saving them to consider with Elsa later.

Instead, she smiled and said “You’re welcome,” rose, and left him at the fire, still wondering why he was so alone even surrounded by his people and why he was so sad even surrounded by a celebration.

***

“So, Anna. Is she…” Kristoff scratched the back of his neck as he crouched down next to Ryder, both of them feeling the lichen to see if it was wet enough for the reindeer to graze there later.

Anna talking to him over the past few days always happened suddenly, went in a direction that surprised him, and left him feeling slightly out of breath and confused when it was over. Sometimes that was because of the fantastical things she told him, like her sister being able to make ice and the very mountains moving at their request. Sometimes it was because of the way she looked at him, with a curiosity and compassion that was as disorienting as the Northuldra Wind Spirit. He lost his bearings whenever he looked at her.

Also, she was beautiful. Her hair and eyes were bright. Her animated demeanour seemed to make her whole body vibrate, all the time. She was captivating. His eyes hurt from making himself stare at the fire instead of at her during those first few days.

“Is she always so…”

“Friendly? Funny? Good with reindeer and telling stories? Yeah. She’s the best.” Ryder stood and wiped his hands on his sleeves. “Let’s go get the herd.”

***

Yelana had noticed Anna’s interest in the leader of the Black Mountain, and had given her a word of warning about it. “Most men are too emotional and he certainly seems to be ruled by his, sour as he comes across. There is enough to keep us busy these next few months as we mix the herds; I need you tending to the reindeer and not the men.”

Anna gave a dismissive wave, continuing with her work with the mortar and pestle. “Oh I’m not interested in him anymore. He’s too irritable.”

***

The next few weeks were a flurry of movement. Teams of Northuldra and Black Mountain took the reindeer to different lichen meadows and streams every day.

Preparing meals for so many, while not a strain on their resources, did create more work than normal. When her work with her mother was done, Anna was often sent to gather or harvest or catch something to add to the night’s meal.

Ryder and Honeymaren stayed with the reindeer. Elsa circled the herd on Nokk, able to quickly spot and rescue those that were losing in the mating dances and clashes. As the new animals were introduced to each other, there were some injuries that needed tending – both on people and on the reindeer.

Anna helped her mother as she prepared salves and wrapped bandages and directed others in gathering the boska necessary to supplement the diet of reindeer who were expending lots of extra energy during this season.

“Should helping reindeer find mates be this – difficult? And bloody? A lot of them seem to be getting injured.”

Iduna laughed. “Ask your father about that. I think he would tell you that finding a mate is sometimes very dangerous.”

Anna smiled as she smoothed balm on a cut near a tired looking reindeer’s antler. Most of the reindeer were too skittish to be touched by anyone right now, but they had always loved Anna. Her father had said it was because the reindeer could tell Anna loved them.

Anna hummed and sang as she worked, making up silly stories about reindeer who flew all over the world, looking for carrots. At the end of one such tale, she wiped her hands on her work apron and saw Kristoff nearby.

“Nice story. Did you make it up?”

“Not really. Parts of it are from a poem our father read to us as children.” She gave the reindeer a final pat and stood up. She was surprised that he had come to talk to her, but tried to keep her amazement out of her voice. It seemed so out of character for him. He had never initiated a conversation before.

“Ryder told me you were the one to ask. Sven has been acting strange and I can’t figure it out. Could you come?”

Anna looked to her mother who nodded her assent. “We’re fine here for now. No new injuries other than the one you just tended.” They hugged and Anna reached for her bag, checking to be sure it had some of the medical supplies she was likely to need.

As they drew close to the Black Mountain encampment, Anna could hear distressed grunting noises.

“Is that Sven?”

“It is. He hasn’t stopped making that sound. It’s like he’s scared of something, but I can’t figure out what. I tied him up over here so he wouldn’t run off. He’s not as hardy as the other reindeer, he depends on me to help him out.”

Anna reached for the length of rope and began to unwind it from the tree. “Let’s get him to show us what’s bothering him.”

Kristoff reached for the rope, but she moved it out of his grasp. He frowned at her, speaking in low tones that wouldn’t startle Sven. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

She had already unwrapped the rope and as soon as he was no longer tied to the tree, Sven bolted. Kristoff and Anna looked at each other and then ran after him.

“I told you not to do that! He’ll hurt himself for sure now!”

She shouted as they sprinted through the undergrowth. “Well good thing you have me then, I’ll know how to fix him up!” Kristoff stayed silent as they ran. Thankfully, Sven’s path of broken branches and trampled leaves were easy to follow.

They both spotted Sven at the same time. He was at the edge of a stream, looking towards a curve in its path. Sven grunted, stretched his neck towards the unseen spot, and then shuddered.

Kristoff reached him first and put his arms around the reindeer’s middle, murmuring calming words into his ear. Anna walked past them both, ignoring Kristoff’s glare which was sharper than any of his ice saws, to reach the bend in the stream. As she looked toward the place that seemed to be equally terrifying and intriguing to Sven, Kristoff watched as she visibly relaxed, leaned back with a breathy laugh and said “Oh! It’s just you!”

Walking out from the hidden spot, a very round, very white, and very alive snowman came into view. Sven was now shuddering and grunting even louder and Kristoff’s first instinct was to kick at the snowman, which he did, right in the head. The head flew into the water, and Anna ran for it, scooping it up and walking back towards Olaf.

“Oh no! Olaf! Are you alright?” Anna gently put the head back on the snowman’s body and adjusted his carrot nose, giving it a light tap.

Kristoff recoiled and, in doing so, lost his grip on Sven, who ran off in a new direction.

Kristoff drew back again and then began to run after Sven as the snowman said “I’m fine! But goodness. It sure is hard to make new friends. I’ve been following that one for a while and he just won’t say hello to me to matter what I do.”

Anna looked to where Kristoff was disappearing into the woods after Sven and gave Olaf a quick kiss on the head. She turned and ran, and shouted over her shoulder. “I’m so sorry Olaf, but I better go help. Let my parents know, please?”

Olaf adjusted his head as he watched Anna run into the trees, the leaves and and branches parting to show her the way.

***

Anna found Kristoff easily enough, but not Sven.

From the welcome Kristoff gave her, it seemed he would have preferred it if she hadn’t come after them.

“Just leave. I don’t need your help. Your help is what created this problem to begin with.” He was looking at the ground, crouching low and searching for footprints and other signs of Sven.

She rolled her eyes and crouched down next to him. “I know these woods better than you. You’ll probably throw a grappling hook into an Earth Giant’s eye or insult Bruni with your flint so your fire never lights. You need me.”

He rocked back on his heels and looked at her, mystified. “I have no idea what any of that means.”

“Exactly. And I bet you don’t know that the Wind Spirit helped me find you just now, opening up paths that I wouldn’t have noticed except for her guidance.”

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about.” He stood and kept searching for any sign of Sven’s path, turning over leaves and looking at trees for scratch marks.

Anna cupped her hands around her mouth and sang a series of notes. “Wind Spirit? Can you show us?”

Kristoff felt a gust of wind ruffle his hair and he looked up to see a new path open in the forest. A bit of Sven’s harness lay on the ground. Kristoff ran to it and picked it up. “It’s his!”

“I know. So trust me that I know these woods and if you want to find Sven, you need me.”

Kristoff looked at her, sighed, and nodded. They began walking on the path that the Wind Spirit cleared for them. Anna watched as his hands clenched the harness.

***

It was dark and they still hadn’t found Sven. Anna spoke to Bruni and got a fire going. At Kristoff’s questioning look, she explained that the light might attract Sven.

“I’m sure he’s fine. I’ve asked Bruni and the Wind Spirit to look out for him and they’ll let the Earth Giants and Nokk know as well. We’ll find him. But for now, rest. It’s too far and too dark to go home tonight.”

Kristoff had been leaning on a tree, tired from the chase through the woods and worried about his friend. He walked closer to the fire and sat down with a sigh, rubbing his hands over his eyes.

“Olaf can sometimes be over eager to make new friends.” She looked at Kristoff and felt a heat rise in her face. “Olaf and I can both be over eager to make friends. I’m sorry that Sven was frightened. And that he ran when I untied him. And I’m sorry that you’re stuck with me when you clearly don’t want to be.“

Kristoff looked at her as she opened her bag and searched through its contents. “I’m not sorry.”

Anna looked up from her bag and gave a small laugh. “I know. You seem very happy to be rude and angry. Not that I don’t understand your worry or anger, but try to remember that I am helping you.”

Kristoff rubbed his hands over his eyes again and shook his head. “No, no, I mean I’m not sorry you’re here, helping me. I’d be lost in these woods without you. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” He opened the small bag that had been strapped to his back and pulled out some pieces of thinbread, offering her some. Anna reached for it, staying quiet. After her continuous monologues during their search and his silence, he finally seemed willing to talk.

“So much of this year has been like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

He paused, and Anna hazarded a small “Oh?” hoping he would say more. After a bite of the thinbread and a wipe of his mouth on his sleeve, he continued.

“I wanted to expand our trading routes. We get great ice near the Back Mountain and I had the idea that we could bring it further south to towns and villages we've never traded with. We're so far north - we've traded reindeer with Northuldra before and some with the tribe that used to be near the North Mountain, but never Arendelle. Never on the coast.” He reached into his bag again and pulled out a skin of water, offering it to her. She took a sip and then handed it back.

“I’ve been there, it was such a bustling port with so much to see. It was my father’s home once. Did you like it?”

He shook his head, and took another bite, chewing a bit before he continued. “Well no, not exactly. Too many people. But I did show my father that ice was as big of a business as reindeer. Reindeer herding has good years and bad, but the ice is more dependable. We sold what we had and brought back a lot in trade.”

Anna stayed silent, hoping he would say more to fill the empty space around the fire, the absence of Sven and both of their tribes making the forest seem larger and quieter than she was used to. She also wondered at his reference to his father – the father that would be the leader of the Black Mountain if he was still alive. Her heart thudded as she realized what that meant.

“We brought back a lot, including a sickness we'd never seen before. Our healer died while treating people. Almost every family lost someone. My parents both died and suddenly I was the leader. The leader who had caused the problem in the first place. And now we’re at the mercy of others. And asking for help all the time, and…” He trailed off, and shook his head again.

Anna covered his hand with hers and squeezed. “Kristoff, a sickness like that, it's unpredictable. Maybe you would have spared your people from it that year without trading. But coming to trade with us could have been as big of a risk. Someone could have brought it to the Black Mountain without you ever leaving. It's devastating, but that doesn't make it your fault.” He looked at their joined hands, but not at her. She could see the steady rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed, but she couldn’t see his eyes.

“And asking for help isn’t a weakness. It’s a strength. My father says that all the time.” He still wouldn’t look up at her, but the silence felt comfortable. The sounds of the fire crackled and Anna thought about how so many people, like her Uncle Lemek, seemed angry when really they were just sad. And Kristoff had a lot to be sad about. She wished there was a way she could comfort him and distract him from his worries before she realized she had just the thing. She rummaged through her bag again and pulled out a book.

Kristoff looked up to the sound of pages being turned. “A book? You rushed after me and Sven, but took the time to pack a book?” He sounded amused, and Anna was glad her distraction was already working.

“I always have a book. This is the one I keep in my medical bag in case I get bored during a long vigil. My father usually has several on him at all times. It’s like always having a friend nearby.”

“A book.” He laughed a little, surprising her with the sound. “Well, I supposed a book is no stranger than a reindeer for a friend.”

Anna smiled, accepting this kindness. “Yes! And don’t you like stories? Here I’ll read one, let me know if you like it.”

She began the story, using all of her best voices and right as she got to the ending, they heard the low grunting of Sven.

If reindeer could look abashed, this one did, bending his antlers low and pawing at the ground.

Kristoff ran to him and hugged him around the middle. The sight of it made Anna smile. She walked slowly towards Sven, not wanting him to startle again, and checked his hooves and fur for signs of injury. Aside from a few scratches that she rubbed ointment on, she declared him to be in perfect health.

“Thank you!” Kristoff sounded happier than she had ever heard him, the pinch of worry between his eyebrows was gone and she smiled in response to his happy grin. He grabbed her hand in both of his and she felt a rush of pride and a thrill at the touch of his hands, so broad and warm as they held hers. She looked into his eyes, then down at his hands, and pulled away abruptly.

“Your knuckles! They’re bleeding!”

Kristoff opened and closed his hands, suddenly empty. “Oh. I didn’t notice. It’s not bad, probably just from the scrub and underbrush.”

“Still, anything that breaks the skin can draw in poison if you don’t treat it soon enough. That’s why I checked Sven, you don’t want a small cut to become a big problem later.”

Anna pulled out the same jar of ointment and used a cloth to scoop out a small amount. She picked up one of his hands and began to smooth the salve over the bleeding knuckles, and then switched to the other.

“Isn’t that...for reindeer?” She couldn’t tell if he was really worried, or just complaining about the fuss, so she smiled reassurance in case he needed it.

“It’s for anything that bleeds.” She finished her ministrations and lightly rubbed her thumb along his palm, and he gripped her hand once again.

“Thank you.”

She laughed, turning away from him. “You know you seem very ungrateful most of the time, but you’ve said ‘thank you’ four times since we’ve met. I might need to start reconsidering my opinion of you.” She found herself surprisingly short of breath when she walked back to her pack, putting the jar and cloth away. The rapid beat of her heart didn’t still even as she sat down by the fire; if anything it was getting faster.

Now, looking at him from this vantage point, she could see that he was smiling, the slight curve of his lips higher on the right than the left. “Oh? What else do you think about me?” He and Sven came closer to the fire and settled down, Kristoff leaning onto one side of Sven, and Anna the other. She could hear Kristoff but not see him as he spoke. Not seeing him, she felt bolder.

“You obviously care a lot about your people, but you don’t seem to enjoy them at all. You’re too serious, too irritable, too sad. You should have fun sometimes. When you can celebrate and laugh and smile again, that’s when the hard year you’ve had will start to recede. When everyone will start to be joyful again. You might have to fake it for a bit first, but then you really will feel it. And your people will too.”

She could hear Kristoff breathing. It sounded steady, like he was considering her words instead of being angered by them. She began to pet Sven on the ears as she waited for his reply, enjoying the soft feel. Sven seemed to like it too, and gave a soft grunt of appreciation.

“So I should plan a celebration and then everyone will forget about the people we lost?”

She shook her head even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “No, of course not. But give them something joyful so they have new memories too.”

It was quiet again, and Anna was getting used to these pauses he took during conversation. The quiet he needed to hear before he could fill it with words.

“We didn’t do the ice games this year.”

“Ice games?”

“Competitions to carve and cut as quickly as possible. Sometimes there’s even ice racing.” She could hear him adjust his position and Sven lifted his head and huffed a bit before settling back down.

“That sounds great! We should do that!” She sat up, looking over Sven at Kristoff, who now had his hat over his eyes, one hand on the hat, and one hand on his stomach. She was glad to see the ointment still shiny on his knuckles; he hadn’t wiped it off.

He spoke, eyes still covered and sounding slower and sleepier as he did, even though this idea was making Anna feel wide awake. “How? You don’t have a lake here. Definitely not a frozen one.”

“That’s true. But we do have my sister.”

“I-” he yawned. “I don’t know what that means.”

Anna watched as his breathing steadied and he slept. And though she thought about ice games, and what she would need Elsa to do, and what she would need Kristoff to agree to, her last thought before falling asleep was how it had felt when Kristoff had held her hand.

***

“Elsa, please, just drink something.” Honeymaren was extending a guksi, brimming with water, but Elsa waved it away.

“I’m fine. I’m almost done. Just a few more layers.” Elsa pushed both of her hands down and away from her body as the ice she was standing on slowly rose.

Ryder cheered. “Why did we never think to do this? A whole field covered in ice - this is great!” He was sliding around on the top layer, hitting his boot against a pinecone towards Anna who was also trying to skate in her regular boots. She kicked it back towards him and did a clumsy spin.

Honeymaren sighed and shook her head. “We never do this because it’s completely impractical and it freezes up good grazing ground that the reindeer would otherwise use. And even if she’s telling me she’s fine, this woman needs to drink more water. For the Spirits’ sake, Elsa, you can’t shoot that much ice out of you and not need to drink something!”

Elsa, satisfied with her work, walked over to Honeymaren and took the guksi, looking at her with eyebrows raised as she drank. Honeymaren sighed again. “Thank you.”

“Oh Elsa!” Anna clapped her hands together. “It looks perfect! I think this is exactly what he was talking about; just wait until the Black Mountain folks see it!”

***

Anna had been right. Anna had been right, and Kristoff told her so, which made her feel proud and satisfied in a way that surprised her.

The People of the Black Mountain unpacked their saws and picks and sang chanteys and cut for speed and sculpted for beauty and challenged the Northuldra to races along the length of the field, which often ended in piles of collapsed runners with no clear winner, all laughing and scrambling to try again.

Anna stayed on the outskirts of the ice, ready to tend to any injury. She scanned the ice field, but often stopped to watch Kristoff, who was lifting massive blocks of ice with tongs and then throwing them into perfect piles several feet away. He grunted as he worked, and she could see the lines of sweat running down his face, the pleased nods and smiles he gave as others complimented his harvesting.

After doing most of the harvesting in leathers and boots and furs, he stripped to the waist for the last round. Anna watched as the cords of muscle in his back tensed and constricted as he lifted ice out of the field and into the sled for storage. She swallowed, feeling tense as well, like her muscles were also pulled tight.

As the day grew dark, Elsa magicked the ice away except for the winning ice sculptures and a few perfectly formed cubes that were taken to a storehouse for preserving food. The two tribes continued to laugh and talk and occasionally sing around the bonfire, now roaring and blazing into a dark sky.

“Thank you for that. Thank you for making that happen.” Kristoff walked up to Anna, pulling his loose shirt back over his head. She reached for his hands.

“Just making sure you didn’t reopen old wounds.” She smoothed her fingers over his knuckles as he startled at her touch. “And you’re welcome. That’s two more ‘thank yous’ from you. I believe I’ve lost count now.” She smiled and dropped his hand, and for a second she thought he might reach for her hand to hold it, just hold it and look at the fire together. She wondered if she wanted that.

“We, uh, we leave in a few days’ time. And I thought….”

He stopped talking, and Anna watched as he took a breath and tried again. “We lost our best calver. Ryder said you’re good at it – small hands, patient heart. Would you consider coming with us? Back to the Black Mountain? Through the end of the birthing season?”

She should have thought about it more, perhaps. She could have talked to Yelana or her parents or Elsa. She could have asked more questions. Instead, she looked at him, smiled and answered the way she wanted to in that moment, with the fire pulling out sparks of yellow in his eyes and his breath still heavy from his earlier exertions. The dampened hair on his head and the way his shirt opened at the throat to show his chest and the way her hands still mourned the loss of his touch. She had to admit that was part of why she answered the way she did.

“I’d love to.”

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

#kristanna #mating season #frozen #frozen fan fic #kristoff #anna #elsa #honeymaren #ryder #enchanted forest #Anna as Northuldra

98 notes · View notes

gilbirda · 4 years

Link

When Marianne finds Roland in the arms of another woman on the wedding day she flies away from her castle, trying to ease the pain in her chest. A miscalculation that took her off course made her land on the Dark Forest for the second time that day, and right into an horde of goblins… and their King.

…Or the Canon-Divergence we deserved.

First Chapter || <<Prev Chapter || Next Chapter >>

Chapter 22

Dagda was way calmer now, after a lengthy explanation about how Bog and Marianne kept in touch after the Ball, just an informal thing, and once she was notified about the elf she recognized the description and flew to the Goblin Castle and the three of them formed a plan to bust Roland once for all.

He knew they were lying somewhere, of course. Marianne did that thing with her thumbs when she was lying and he noticed her trying to hide it as she explained her part of the story. By her side, Bog stood with a really tense pose, staff in his hands. He had been stoic for the most part of their interview with the fairy, but Dagda noticed his head tilting softly into his daughter’s direction.

The King closed his eyes and sighed, not really wanting to fight over this. Marianne had always been different from her peers, and so much like her mother, Violet. She saw him among a crowd. She could have married any wealthy man that brought honor to her dinasty; but she married a commoner nobody.

The only difference is that my little princess had to look in the wrong place! He thought. His daughter… how could she be interested in a goblin? He wanted to be upset with the idea, he really really wanted.

But he was tired. This situation had dragged for so long… Roland, her rebellious phase, her obsession with the peace between kingdoms… It was always a fight with her about what she wanted. Marianne would always fight for what she believed in even if it was against everyone else’s comfort.

And guess what, she was usually right.

He had told her a mere hour ago that he was done trying to force her to do what he would do and now he wasn’t going to do that again to her -

“So… any questions?” Marianne’s voice brought him back to the moment. Dagda shuffled in his seat and sighed, looking at the two people in front of his desk willing to lie to a King (and a father) to hide their love.

“Yeah, only one. How long have you been together?”

Marianne felt like the air was punched out of her chest.

“What?”

“I mean, it’s pretty obvious. How long has this,” he made a gesture with his hand, pointing at his daughter and then at the other king, “been going on? Since we went to the Dark Forest? Since the Spring Ball?” He rested both hands on top of the desk, secretly enjoying their scared expressions when they looked at each other.

“Dad, please -”

“I’m not going to do anything, Marianne,” he stopped her before she started to fight. “I said that I’m done forcing you to make my decisions, and I’m willing to do that no matter how much it pains me to do so,” he made a face and looked at Bog, who was gripping the staff so hard that Dagda thought he would break it. “I must admit, it never crossed my mind that you would be interested in someone like him. But again you never did anything like everybody else.”

“Dad, if that’s and insult I swear -”

“I guess this is why you never liked any boy I presented to you,” the King continued rambling like his daughter wasn’t angrily fisting her hands. “You may have never been destined to be with a fairy. So I guess I should be thankful that you pushed so hard for this treaty.”

“Actually…” Bog spoke for the first time. “We meet before any of that.”

“Oh, really?” Dagda smiled. Finally! Someone was telling the truth.

“Yeah. We… We met on the wedding day. She kind of fell into my kingdom, crying and hurt. More than physically.” He whispered the last part.

“Bog!”

So that’s why she recovered so fast…

“I see,” the fairy nodded and stood up, walking slowly to the mismatched pair that, somehow, made a lot of sense now that he knew the truth. “Then I’m grateful that you found her and treated her,” in his words he implied that he meant more than the body. He then took one of Bog’s big and scary hands and put it between his. “I’m very grateful.”

***

“That went well.”

Marianne snorted at his comment.

“I thought I was going to die.”

“I didn’t expect to have this conversation today either,” he offered her a taste of what he was drinking. It was some kind of sweet beverage made from a flower only found in the Forest.

“Thanks,” she took a sip and tried to determine if she liked it or not. She decided that she did, but she couldn’t drink this for too long as it was too sweet for her tastes. “At least he seemed happy with this?”

“I’m sure that this isn’t over. It can’t be that easy.”

“Well, at least we agree on that.” Marianne gave him back the container with the drink and looked at the enchanting scenery of the dawn from the top of the goblin Castle. They went back after their conversation with her dad once punishment for Roland was decided (she must admit that being forced to do community labor was fitting for that selfish prick), as Marianne was too awake to even think of sleeping now.

It was weird being there knowing that her dad knew she was there. And at this time of the night, when she was supposed to be in her room dreaming about next day’s adventures. But it was a feeling she was willing to get used to.

Marianne looked at Bog and took his hand on hers, watching him take a sip from the container. She was going to comment on how beautiful was the Forest at night and that they should do a tour around it, when a drop of the drink slipped from his lips and fell down his chin.

It was something mundane, she swears, the movement she did to clean it for him. She just wanted to help. But without realising it she got really close to his face and it was too late to lean back when he put the container down besides him without breaking eye contact.

The mood between them did a one-eighty, suddenly becoming something they hadn’t felt before. Their eyes, their lips, they had never been so tantalising.

“Can I…?” he whispered, not wanting to break the moment.

Instead of an answer, Marianne leaned in the space that was left between their lips and kissed him for the first time since they formalized what they were. It was a simple, chaste kiss, but it was exactly what she didn’t knew she desired.

Marianne felt his big hands find their place on her narrow shoulders, almost laughing at the way they managed to make her feel totally covered under them. Yet he was gentle and careful of his claws, something that melted her heart more than it was already at the feeling of his rough lips on hers.

It was loving. It was overwhelming. It was, without doubt, something she could get used to. And, what the heck, she was going to get used to kissing this dork even if her life depended on it!

She was softly caressing his cheeks when she pulled back to breathe a little, opening the eyes she didn’t remember closing, a tiny smile on her lips.

“Marianne, I -”

“I know.”

“But I haven’t finished saying anything!” the fairy laughed.

“But I can read your mind.”

“Oh, yeah?” he smirked back at her, really, really enjoying the feeling on her nimble fingers on his exoskeleton, successfully caging his face to only look at her. Not that he was going to do anything else tonight. “Then what am I thinking right now?”

“Hmmmm,” she faked thinking the answer. “You want… another kiss?”

He chuckled. “Maybe.”

This time he leaned in and kissed her a little bit harder than the last kiss. She wasn’t complaining, though, and she let herself enjoy his enthusiasm.

She felt him everywhere, his hands con her cool skin, his warm lips on her own. This could last forever and she wouldn't complain.

Suddenly, she felt his tongue softly grace her lower lip in a movement she was familiar with. Her heart did a flop and her stomach started to be filled with butterflies as she thought that oh my god. But she wasn't nervous, of that she was positive.

She was afraid of wanting too much, of being too much.

“Tough girl,” he whispered when they parted a bit to breath, and that did the trick. Something inside of her unraveled and all of her subdued passion, which once upon a time was tainted by bad memories, make an stellar appearance.

It was her who this time attacked the other with maybe too much enthusiasm, pushing the goblin to the floor in what she wanted to be a swift movement but turned out a bit awkward. Marianne blushed, opening her eyes and trying to see if he was hurt.

“Sorry -” she started to say, but was interrupted.

“Don't be,” Bog grumbled from under her in an even deeper voice, his bright eyes shining with love, passion and adoration. She shivered, but not because she was cold.

She jumped to his awaiting lips, fully prepared to what was coming next. She wanted it, she wanted him. She wanted to replace bad memories with new ones, including learning to kiss again.

She pushed her tongue inside his mouth, not like he put much resistance, for a moment forgetting about the beverage he was drinking before. He tasted sweet and a little bit citric, but she liked it. She liked kissing him.

“I love you,” she said between breaths.

“I love you,” Bog responded in a husky voice, sending even more shivers down her spine.

Yep, she could get used to this.

#strange magic #strange magic fanfiction #princess marianne #bog king #butterfly bog #lofe #writeblr #gil writes #fanfic #fanfiction

2 notes · View notes

zutaradreams · 5 years

Text

Day 6: Power Couple

AO3

@zutaramonth

Banished from the Fire Nation, Prince Zuko finds refuge in the free cities of the Earth Kingdom. His supporters are ready to install him as the new Fire Lord, and they’re ready for him to find a wife.

His face is hot. He’s trying not to think about the sweat collecting on his palms, but obsessing over it is just making it worse. In his five years of banishment, waiting here for the right time, begging kings for their support, this has to be his most humiliating experience yet.

“Prince Zuko, may I introduce Lady Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, the Avatar’s waterbending master?”

“An honor, Master Katara.”

“Likewise, Prince Zuko.”

“Well, I’ll leave you two to mingle.” Inwardly, Zuko groans. His uncle has been embarrassing him all night, reveling in bouncing Zuko from girl to girl, reminding him how important this decision is.

The girl in front of him has skin darker than anyone else in the room, and her lovely dark hair is pinned back, adorned with blue pearls. They match her eyes. He’s never seen more enchanting eyes. “You’re the only girl from the Southern Water Tribe.”

“I noticed.”

“Did you travel all this way for dinner?”

“I was in the area, actually. The Avatar has been mastering his earthbending.”

Of course. He’s heard they all travel together, a band of teenagers out to save the world. But the world loves them. The world loves him, which is even more surprising.

“Yes, I met his earthbending teacher already. Lady Bei Fong.”

“Oh, is she one of your candidates?”

“No, just a dinner guest.”

She smiles at him. “You and I both know there’s more to this than dinner. Should we talk about that, or did you expect me to flirt with you like all the other girls?”

“I don’t expect anything, to be honest. I’ve never exactly been given one night to find a wife. I never even gave it thought until my advisors insisted.”

Apparently a wife strengthens his claim, as it symbolizes stability and puts him one step closer to an heir than his sister. His supporters plan to install him as the next Fire Lord once Sozin’s comet comes, a hauntingly close date, so he must be married as soon as possible.

“I don’t envy you. All the small talk, all that pressure, and you have no way of knowing who’s lying to you and who isn’t.”

“It’s all very stressful.”

“Can I make it easier?” she says. “Pick me.”

Her boldness catches him off guard. “You’re the first one to speak so plainly.”

She smiles. “You’ll learn I’m very outspoken.”

“An outspoken waterbending master. What else? Why should I pick you?”

“My father isn’t rich,” she admits. “He won’t be able to fund the colonial mercenaries the Earth Kings are so keen on, but he will send every Southern Water Tribe warrior to your cause. I also don’t know your customs, and I’m not trained to be a proper lady. I have a temper, and if you ask my brother, I’m bossy.”

He’s amused, but he’s lying if he says she doesn’t intrigue him. “You’re making quite a case for yourself,” he remarks.

“But I’ll learn,” Katara swears to him confidently, with a determination in her eyes he’s only ever seen in his own before. “I will learn your country inside and out. I will learn your people and let them teach me what it is they need in a ruler, and I will be that for them. I have the opportunity to change the world as your wife. When Aang defeats your father and you take your throne back, I want to be there with you.”

“Why is it so important to you?”

Her hand fiddles with the pendant at her throat, a carved blue stone. He remembers then everything the Fire Nation has taken from the Southern Water Tribe. She is the last surviving bender of her homeland. “I want this war to end, and I want to work everyday to make sure it never happens again.”

He nods in sympathy. “It’s gone on too long, hasn’t it?”

”For 100 years. A whole century of war.”

“We’ll end it.”

Her eyes widen. He doesn’t mean it as a definitive proposal, though it may sound like one to her; he isn’t quite sure how women’s minds work yet. Still, he’s proud of himself for not awkwardly fumbling through a clarification. He’s already made a fool of himself in front of some of these other ladies tonight.

He catches his uncle approaching out of the corner of his good eye. His time with her is almost up. “So outspoken, master bender, temper, passionate, self-sacrificing, beautiful...anything else I should know?”

He smiles to himself as the faintest blush dusts her cheeks. “If you think I’m beautiful now, wait until you see me in red.”

His mouth goes dry, and before he knows it, he’s whisked away after offering nothing more than a respectful bow. As he meets the next girl, the daughter of an Earth Kingdom nobleman, the exact kind of girl the Earth Kings want the future Fire Lord to marry, he wishes he had kissed her hand instead.

“So have you made a decision?” his uncle goads. “Or were there too many fine ladies to narrow down to one?”

“No, I chose.”

“Well, who is it, Prince Zuko? Who will be the one you return to your throne with?”

The Earth Kings won’t be happy. His uncle might even advise him to choose a girl from a more affluent background, someone who’s family can lend them resources in abundance, but his mind is made up. When he imagines returning home and reclaiming his throne, she’s the one he sees beside him.

“Katara of the Southern Water Tribe.”

#zutara fic #zutaradreams #zutaramonth #day6

75 notes · View notes

vesperlionheart · 5 years

Note

Sirens of the Sea, 12, and gaasaku for a friend. If you do it thank you so much

The Spirit of the Oasis - GaaSaku (5.5K)

There are stories of miracles that are whispered in shadows, behind hands, and over night time campfires because they need to be, and not because they are true or worth believing. Least of these stories are the ones of the oases that bloom for the pure of heart who are most in need of them. Magic carpets, cities of brass, and enchanted flutes were all a poor man’s fantasy and Gaara was no longer a poor man, so there was no use in believing in such stories.

“You think you’re too good for old Baba’s stories?” Chiyo teased Gaara.”My grandson thought that way too.”

“I’m not going to end up like your grandson,” Gaara grumbled, hating how he had to show his elder such respect when all she did was tease him.

“That’s what he said too, when I told him about my lover who said the same damn thing,” Chiyo laughed, slapping her knee while her brother fed another log to the fire from beside her, silent as ever.

Gaara winced, unable to clear his mind of the mental image of old bad Chiyo having someone she could call a lover. It was such a dirty sounding word when she said it.

“That’s...understandable I suppose,” Gaara forced to grit out.

“You ain’t gonna ask me what my lover did or what happened to ‘em?” Chiyo whined playfully.

Gaara really didn’t want to ask.

“What happened, elder?”

But he was a good kid.

Chiyo’s beady black eyes sparkles from underneath the sagging of her skin, heavy with bushy gray brows. “Hey commissioned a friend to map the desert for the brass rider and got that far before the way was no longer for them.”

“What does that mean, baba?” Temari asked.

Behind Gaara his brother and sister sat on their own mats, drinking from the elder’s stash of wine and gorging themselves on her food. Gaara took only enough to be polite but did not consume. He was the head of his tribe now, he couldn’t afford to piss off an elder.

“He had received the words of his elder, to travel across the desert, to seek the aid of the brass rider, and follow where it would lead. But with no faith, he relied on his friend the cartographer to map his steps. Without faith he was a lost one, as was my daughter, as was her husband, as was their child, my grandson.”

Baba Chiyo reached into her sack cloth dress and pulled out the blue powder before throwing it onto the fire, changing the color of the flames and making their burning smell sweeter. Kankuro leaned forward in his seat, excited by the change blue powder produced. It was a simple traveler’s trick, nothing but small science, but to a people without education, Gaara understood how it could seem like magic.

“It is a sin to seek without faith.”

“It is foolish indeed,” Temari agreed, always the faithful daughter. When the mystics had said the murderer of their mother and not she who was first born would lead their tribe she had bent her head in thanks for the prophecy and never questioned it. She should have hated him but her faith saved him from that life of neglect, so as much as Gaara wanted to sneer and think himself wiser than the superstitious sand witch, he would honor her words and listen.

“Are we called to seek, wise woman?” Kankuro asked.

Chiyo cackled and rocked back in her seat while her brother poked at the fire. “Are you destined for greatness, or does the bird long to fly? Which is easier to answer, I ask you?”

“It is a great honor to be so star blessed,” Temari whispered, watching Kankuro with soft eyes and softer thoughts. When she looked to Gaara her softness didn’t lessen and he felt all the safer for it. In the absence of their mother, Temari had been his maternal comfort for all those years. He would not deny her this.

“Speak of our fate, elder,” Gaara said as he lowered his face to the sand and the ground. He touched it to his fingers and closed his eyes. “I beseech you, speak it.”

Between them the blue fire crackled and the desert night spun on. Eventually, Chiyo breaks the silence and Gaara knows he is allowed to lift his face to her once more.

“I will say this then, you own a great and vast land, and on that land you have built up your father’s estate so that is the envy of others, but it yet lacks three things. The first is this, a talking bird who speaks only wisdom, second is the tree that sings prophecies, and third is the golden water from the fountain without end. Come into possession of these three things and you will be made far greater than any that came before you in the tribe of the Wind.”

“Oh elder, these are grade items indeed, but how would we begin to find them?” Temari asked, already sounding in love with the idea. Gaara stayed quiet, content to honor his sister with whatever she wanted within reason.

Chiyo waved to the fire and the draft that followed her hand made the flames flicker. “You should travel for three days in the direction of the sun’s birthing, and then you will find a fallen king who has traded his riches for humility. Treat him kindly and he will tell you where to find your three treasures.”

Gaara glanced sideways at his brother, grimacing at the star struck look in Kankuro’s eyes. Sometimes he was no better than their sister when it came to matters of fate.

The night grew long and Gaara bid Chiyo and her brother farewell, departing with his siblings back to their tribe and back to their manor. They slept soundly through the night, but the morning had nothing but turmoil for them.

As luck would have it, Kankuro became obsessed with the idea and in short order packed up and headed out on his adventure to seek his fortune, both for himself and for the family. And for all of Temari’s faith she did not want to risk the life of her brother. She begged Kankuro to reconsider, but the middle child was unswayable.

“Take your hawk with you,” Gaara instructed. “If he should return to us for any reason we will know you have perished and mourn you properly.”

The suggestion only made Temari more upset but Kankuro gathered up the leathers and hood for his hunting hawk and promised the both of them he would return with enough riches to make them sultans.

Yet seven days later his hawk returned itself to their garden and the whole house mourned for the loss of the firstborn son.

“This is the price of faith,” Gaara said to his sister in his anger, only to regret his words hours later once his spirit had cooled.

He tried to apologize but Temari had locked the doors to her chambers and forbid the servants entry. She kept her doors shut no matter the hour of the day. Gaara ordered her favorite dishes be made, her favorite coffee be brewed, and even burned her favorite spices to coax her out, but his sister was unreachable for days.

Four days later Gaara had reached the end of his patience and ordered her doors be broken down. He refused to let his sister starve herself and leave him too. She was all he had left and the thought of life without her-

“She’s not here, my lord!”

Gaara’s thoughts unraveled. “What do you mean?”

The servant produced a note and bowed low. “She has fled and taken her hunting hawk with her. Mercy, my lord, we did not know.”

Kankuro’s headstone had not been planted yet and already he was to commission a second? The thought turned his blood to ice.

“Make ready my horse.”

Gaara rode for a day to the edge of his territory before he saw his sister’s hawk, flying to greet him along the way. In the wild desert he cried aloud, summoning it down so that he could weep over it’s feathers and scream for the audience of his animals. No one could hear him in the desert so he let his heart show. Nowhere else would he be so honest.

“You have forsaken me, you have gone where I can not!” he cried into the sands for nearly the rest of the day.

When night fell Gaara noticed his horse had run off and the hawk had disappeared with it, leaving him truly alone. He took shelter under the shade of a rock outpost and rested there.

The morning came, and with it, thirst. All his food and water had been tied up under his saddle bags, leaving him with nothing more than his shoes and clothes. He had a small bag of money, but in the middle of the desert it was more worthless than dirt.

“I have wasted too many tears on my family, soon I will join them. If only there would be someone left to miss me.”

Gaara stood and trekked in the direction of his home, not realizing his sense of direction was off. At the end of the second day he was weak and too tired to rouse himself further, so he took shelter under some more rocks and cried without tears.

He was the youngest, what were they thinking making him their chief! He had been the only one with enough good sense to resist Chiyo’s silly superstitions and look where that got him; his faithful sister lost, his older brother dead.

His head swam with exhaustion and dehydration, so when he looked up and saw an oasis growing out of the dead earth he did not believe the sight of it. How silly for his brain to play such a mean trick on him. An oasis would bloom for the faithful in their time of need, the old stories said.

Out of all his siblings he had the least faith. What had faith done for Kankuro or Temari?

But his body felt like something he no longer controlled as he roused himself and staggered towards the mirage, smelling wildflowers and water in the air. His feet touched the stone and then the earth, soaked and wet before he fell onto his knees and plunged his hands into the water, sinking them up to his elbows in the cool pool. He cried aloud, bringing some to his mouth to drink. He turned greedy for the taste of it and gorged himself until he felt like an ocean rested in his belly.

“Satisfied?” a voice teased from somewhere behind him.

Gaara turned, stumbling to see, perched atop one of the rocks, a woman with pale hair, paler skin, and eyes as vibrant as emeralds. Her smile cut her lips into something spellbinding, as Gaara found himself transfixed at the sight of her.

She laughed at his expression and rolled off the rocks, drifting more than falling. Behind her the long train of her dress trailed, curling with the breeze until she stood in front of him. Gaara felt his throat grow tight as he tried to swallow and keep his eyes off the way a slit in the fabrics cut all the way up to her thigh, showing off leagues of soft flesh.

“You look even cuter when you’re startled, I think,” she laughed, kneeling down so she was closer to his level.

Gaara’s eyes kept wavering, too amazed by the curve of her uncovered shoulders and bare arms. He could see so much of her, more than he was used to seeing in a desert landscape where sundeath was as common as thirst.

She wasn’t human.

“Temptress,” he choked out. “I’ve been seduced into your lair and now you’re going to-to kill me here.”

She blinked in surprise and then burst out laughing, standing suddenly to better grab at her stomach as the mirth of his words shook her shoulders. “Temptress?” she gasped. “I’m not even an angel this time? You must be a heretic of some sort.”

“I know no spring or oasis would open itself for one with my miniscule faith. I am not delusional,” Gaara struggled to answer.

“I’m not going to eat you, silly heathen.”

“Then you mean to deflower me!” he accused, backing away, face red and warm from the admission.

“A tempting offer, but no. I’m not in the habit of seducing half dead heartbroken boys so you may rest easy, Gaara of the wind tribe, I’m not here to do you any ill.” She swept the train of her dress behind her and dipped low into an old fashioned bow from before bows became reserved for men exclusively. “I am Sakura, and I simply wished to save your life.”

“Wh-what benefit is there for you to do so?”

“Are you not wealthy?” she teased.

Gaara reached for the pouch of coins and tossed the bag at her feet. It opened and spilled, scattering glittering coins of silver, bronze, and gold. He eyed her warily to see what she would do next.

Sakura sighed and rolled her eyes, tilting her head back to better see the stars. Behind her the short cut of her sunset pink hair shifted, nearly ethereal in how it moved without touching her shoulders.

“I have no use for your silver, boy, take these back,” she said, motioning with her bare toes to the spilled coins. “I risk so much for far greater rewards, such you could never pay.”

“What do you want from me then?” Gaara asked, making no move to gather his money pouch.

“Sit with me among the flowers and talk awhile. In the morning I will send you off with food and water. I swear upon the stars no ill will come to you from me here in this oasis.”

Gaara hesitated. The creature before him was not human, she was a being of magic and starlight, one who could bloom waters in the desert and command the plants to flower with fruit. Beautiful as she was, Gaara didn’t want to make the mistake of thinking her mediocre. If she was truly a creature from Chiyo’s tales, he needed to show her reverence.

Gaara shifted, folding his legs under him until they were bent. He touched his face to the ground and bowed low. “Great spirit, I thank you for your mercy. I shall do as you bid me.”

“Sakura,” she breathed, chuckling. “Please just call me Sakura. Now stand and join me by the flowers. You must tell me of your quest.”

Gaara climbed to his feet and saw her hand offered where he could reach and grab it. He hesitated before accepting, and Sakura led him to a natural stone table with benches on either side. A pair of goblets had already been set out with sweet wine and plates overflowing with ripe fruits waited for him.

He sat and told her the story of his sister and brother, about how he wanted to at the very least, find their bodies and bring them back. He told her of Chiyo’s stories, of the talking bird and other treasures. He told her of the Wind Tribe, of his people who were strong and vast. He told her of the prophecies around his birth. He told her of the elders who raised him. He told her of his favorite steed, and hunting bird. He told her of where he ran the fastest and where he meditated.

Before he could help it, he was spilling all his secrets to her, eager to appease her and win a small smile. She was a creature of magic, maybe even one of the star children. It made sense to appease her like how he appeased Chiyo and the sultan.

But he never wanted Chiyo to smile at him that much.

He never wished the sultan to laugh at his stories or ask him more.

Soon the dawn’s pale light cut open the sky and filled it with color. Sakura stood from their table and he watched her move, marveling at the way she seemed more like water than flesh.

“Where are you going?” he asked, standing to follow her. She stopped at the edge of her oasis and pointed.

“I will show you where to go. Three days hard ride from here there will be a humbled king who speak to you. Be kind and listen, for he will tell you what you need to know,” Sakura said.

“What about you?” Gaara asked.

Sakura smiled coyly and cupped two hands around her lips. She cried out, loud and clear a whistle that cut the desert air in half. A moment later Gaara heard the whinny of his favorite mare.

“Look, she approaches,” Sakura said of his horse. “And with her she brings Temari’s hunting hawk. Take them both with you.”

“Sakura.” When she didn’t respond Gaara touched her hand, drawing her attention once more. “What will happen to you now?”

“I will go to where I always go. Should you be in need of me again, call out at nightfall and I may just appear.”

“Promise?”

“Never,” Sakura laughed before she melted under his hand into water foam along with the rest of her oasis.

Gaara reached for her desperately, trying to gather her up, but the foam dissolved on his fingers and even the scent of her was a memory.

“Sakura?” he tried calling. Only the wind tickled his face, teasing him as his mare whinnied for his attention.

After calling and searching, Gaara realized Sakura really was gone and that he had best do as she instructed, so he mounted his mare and turned the horse in the direction of the humbled king. Fed and watered his horse carried him over vast distances until dusk fell and he turned in for the night, taking shelter under the stars.

He made a fire to fight off the desert cold and ate and drank of his goods. Before the stars could come out he dared one more call to Sakura.

At first there was nothing. He watched and waited but no oasis bloomed. There were no flowers there was no water and no Sakura.

“Was it a silly dream?” he wondered aloud.

“Dreams rarely feed us, Gaara,” Sakura teased, sitting down beside him.

He nearly jumped when her arm brushed his. “Sakura? Wh-what are you doing here? You didn’t come when I called.”

“I am not your servant, young lord,” she teased, batting at his face when he came too close. “I shall come and go as I please. You are lonely, you need company, don’t you?”

“I am quite lonely out here. Who else would listen to my voice but the wind.”

“Oh the wind makes horrible conversation, all it talks about is the same dull things.”

Gaara smiled and settled back into place beside the fire. “Will you tell me things tonight?”

“Hmm?” Sakura arched a single brow in question.

“I’m sure I bored you plenty with all my useless chatter. Tell me about yourself this time,” he said.

Sakura’s smile was coy and teasing. “Oh, you wish to know my secrets, do you?”

“I wish to know more about my friend.”

Sakura froze, utterly still as her eyes stayed wide, fixed on him. Then her lips moved but there was no sound, no voice to match their shape. Gaara knew what she meant to say.

“Yes, my friend, if you’ll allow it. I could also worship you, but i’m not sure how appropriate that might be if you think me a heathen. But, I think we could be friends if you will allow it.”

After another moment Sakura stiffly nodded, seeming more human in her hesitance. “A friend… I don’t think I’ve had one of those in a long while,” Sakura breathed. “I’ll allow it.”

Now it was Gaara’s turn to smile and Sakura’s turn to be thrown by the sight of it. “Now, will you tell me more about yourself? Do you have brothers or sisters?”

“I have neither, or if I did, I do not remember them.” Sakura glanced towards the fire before waving her hand before it. The flames rand higher and thicker, casting long shadows. “It’s been a long time since I could remember my human days.”

“You were human?”

“Once.”

Sakura waved her hand again and Gaara saw images in the fire begin the manifest. A small girl chased after a golden ball that fell into a hole. She cried and promised anything if only she could have her ball back, as young ones are bound to do.

The flames shifted until a serpent came along, asking for a favor in return for the retrieval of her golden ball. ‘Anything, anything,’ the child promised. The serpent returned with her ball and promised her it would return for his favor when she came of age.

The girl returned to her grandmother and learned the arts of her lineage until it was time for her to wed. That is when the serpent returned with his son, a prince who she would wed.

The story was pretty enough to be a fairytale children listened to before bed, but the serpent prince was not the hero he dressed himself to be. Instead of taking the girl as his wife, he took her to his city in the desert and dressed her in jewels before enchanting her along with the rest of the city.

Before the enchantment could freeze her in place she begged her husband for the reason behind his crimes. He revealed himself to be a wicked creature, a demon long since freed from his ancient seal. The city was his trap, stocked with gold and treasures of the earth and flesh for whoever could find it.

Many men tried, but the city was made by demon hands and trapped with trickery and evil. No one made it very far into the city before their sins consumed them. Men went mad on the walls, listening to the songs of siren voices. Adventures went insane at the sight of such treasures. The few who made it to the girl’s final resting place saw her on a throne and dripping with jewels. Those who reached for her with lust in their heart were struck dead by her bronz servants.

And all the blood that ever flowed only fed the demon underneath the city further.

“Then how are you here?” Gaara asked, looking away from the fire.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Sakura joked, her shoulders sloped down and heavy. “If you mean the girl in the City of Bronze, well, I can’t speak on that. We’ve all been enchanted not to. See, what happened was-”

Her voice was cut off, stolen away from her as she gasped aloud and shook her head, side to side. She waved to the fire and it turned blue with magic and then a new picture arose. Gaara saw the city of bronze collapse, crumble into the desert and be no more.

Sakura breathed heavy and turned her face away. “There are too many sad stories, and I can tell you none of them. Only know that I am here now as real as I can be because of so much blood.”

Her voice was tired and sad, making Gaara itch to pull her close and comfort her somehow. Whenever his sister was upset he would send her a plate of her favorite candies, or her favorite coffee. She was weak to good food. When his brother was upset he would send him something fine, a new javelin, a trusty steed, a fancy saddle. Kankuro was always cheered up by gifts.

How could he lift Sakura’s spirits?

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he pleaded.

“Tell me a funny story,” Sakura said, glancing towards the fire as the blue flames bled red again, her magic sapped.

“Have you heard the story of the old woman and the devil?”

“Is this a funny story?”

“The devil doesn’t win,” he answered.

“Then tell it to me,” Sakura laughed.

So he did.

The next day Gaara raced across the desert and at night he summoned Sakura again, and the dined on desert flower win and told more stories.

The third night Gaara called for her again and Sakura was there, highlighted by the star’s light.

“Is that the reason you can only come to me at night?” he asked.

Sakura nodded along. “I borrow the star’s magic to leave and manifest this form. I haven’t been human since oh, since too many years ago, but even before then I knew the secret histories and their languages. I knew how to steal and to siphon and how to borrow the magic left in this world.”

Something in her words made Gaara pause. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s so little magic left in the world. It’s getting harder and harder to appear each decade. The stars are never changing in their nature, but what of it if there are no hearts to behold their beauty and marvel at their wonder.”

“How does magic work?”

“How does science work?” Sakura countered instead.

Gaara bristled. “Science makes sense. There is a reason for every reaction. There are formulas and reason.”

“Of course there are. Why is magic any different? I can reach out and touch the very atoms of a creature or object and direct them to the desired change with language. You may use oxygen and fuel and heat to create combustion, but I just excite the log into burning.”

“If magic is so easy, why is not more prevalent among the people?”

“Did I say it was easy? How many centuries did I have to perfect these wretched words, tell me my friend!” Sakura laughed, clapping. Her hands rang out a sound that echoed in the sky above her, turning the clouds over into thunderheads in the desert. “Oh, but I’d trade it all to be a girl again.”

“Why can’t you?” Gaara asked.

“I don’t know the words for such a thing, but maybe one day I will discover them,” she said. “Breaking free from another creature’s enchantment requires knowing the nature of their spell or their true name. Once you know that, you can undo all their magic even if they’re dead or gone from this world.”

“I’ll free you.”

Sakura went still. Gaara moved closer and touched her arm, startling her. “No,” she breathed. “There is nothing left to free. That city is nothing but rubble. The bodies all gone. Please, don’t. Be content with this.”

“Do you know how many friends I have in this world?” Gaara argued. “I have you and I have my family. I have traveled and nearly died for my sister and brother. You think I wouldn’t do as much for you?”

Sakura’s face fall with a soft sadness that made her look so old even if her face was as smooth and youthful as her first day at eighteen. “Sweet friend, please forget me and sleep instead.”

“Sakura I-”

But he was already falling, sliding sideways off the log. Up overhead the stars spun in circles before winking out, one by one by one…..

When he awoke in the morning Gaara roused his mare and led her the rest of the way, discovering the humble king resting under a palm tree. He was kind to the old man and listened to the story of a young boy and then his sister who came through seeking the same thing.

“You must travel there, to the base of that black mountain. There you will hear a great many voices that taunt and cajole you to turn around but you must not, for once your head is turned you will be just another black stone at the foot of the mountain.”

“Even with inhuman willpower I still might turn around if I’m startled,” Gaara said. “I should probably just stuff my ears full of cotton or pig fat to keep from hearing anything-whoa, man!”

“What brilliance!” the old king exclaimed. “How ingenious-never have I heard such a plan in all my days. You may yet be the one who saves the talking bird for his own. A man of science for the ages, woe to the mystics.”

There was the ghost of a memory in his brain about a conversation he had with...someone about magic and science...but that memory was from so long ago, it wasn’t worth remembering.

Gaara grimaced at the old man’s volume but didn’t say anything else. Instead he bowed in thanks and did just that. He approached the mountain and heard the first voices, though there were no bodies and, like the king said, the voices could do nothing to him. He stuffed his ears full of cotton until he could hear nothing and then began his trek.

At the top of the mountain there was a golden cage. He grasped it firmly and pulled until it was free. The bird inside the cage roused from sleep and spoke with the voice of a human, clear and polished.

“You have pulled me from the mountain. In thanks I will tell you where you may find the golden water and where you will find the singing tree.”

“That’s all well and good, but I just want to find my sister and brother. Where are their bodies?”

“They have been turned to stone and one stone is as any other, I can not tell. But, I will tell you how to revive them. The water under my cage, take it and sprinkle it on the black stones before you. It was free them from their curse.”

“Like a chemical reaction,” Gaara murmured.

He moved to do as the bird bid him and the first few stones were transformed back to their human bodies, breathing and alive. They thanked Gaara and praised him even as he ignored them in favor of finding his sister and brother.

The sun moved across the sky and in time he came to the last two stones who were his dear sister and brother, alive and breathing! He gathered them up in his arms and cried again, too happy to have his dead siblings back from the grave to care about treasures or riches.

That day the three of them left with the talking bird, the branch of the singing tree, golden water from the fountain, and a small army loyal to the one who freed them.

In short time Gaara’s fame at the head of the Wind tribe grew. The conquests of his private army turned on tribe into two, and two into four, and four into fifteen, until an entire country looked to him for leadership and wisdom.

The talking bird was a creature of legend, star crafted from the days of old and knowledgeable of a great many things. With his council Gaara guided his people and grew his tribe into a successful country that eventually swallowed even the sultan’s lands.

And yet the more of his days he spent, the lonlier he became.

What was he missing?

What couldn’t he remember?

There was something… something he needed to remember. What was it?

“Bird, tell me the thing I seek.”

“You seek a memory, my sultan,” the enchanted bird sang, flying about in his cage.

“What is the memory I seek?”

“One that is forgotten!”

The way the bird laughed provoked Gaara to anger, so he shook the cage to rattle its contents. “Speak, creature, as you are compelled to do, and release me from this pain in my chest.”

“I am compelled to speak only truth and to answer my master, but the memory will only bring you more grief. Do you wish it, still?”

The pain in Gaara’s heard was fierce and the only thing he could think of from one day to the next. His sister and brother ruled more than he did by this point, and the only thing his advisors needed him for was an heir. But the thought of marriage made him…

“I need this memory, speak it, bird!” he all but growled.

“Very well then. Her name is Sakura. I shall tell you how to find her.”

#Sakura #Gaara #GaaSaku #fairy tale aesthetic #this was supposed to be short #it wasn't #prompt #writing #this one almost turned into another novel #There may be a part 2 one day #about him rescuing her from Sasuke-butt #I wanna write it #I liked this one a lot

110 notes · View notes

bloodyshadow1 · 5 years

Text

so since the vestiges were mentioned in the fireside chat I dug up an old meta essay I wrote months ago on what vestiges should go with the nein

The Mighty Nein and who I think should get what Vestige. Please note this is entirely for fun, and there are Vestiges that haven’t been discovered by Vox Machina, I’m using the whole list found on the critical role wiki.

Also be aware, there are certain Vestiges that are just good in general that everyone could use that has an open attunement slot, Cabal’s Ruin, and Kiss of the Changebringer since they aren’t weapon or armor, just item so they could work with anyone despite not being specialized so I’m leaving them out for the most part. The Titanstone Knuckles and Deathwalker’s Ward are kind of like this in their exalted form, but the other benefits are more focused on certain classes so they aren’t as universal. Also note I’m using all the Vestiges in their Exalted states which are obviously at their best. Also I tried to limit the number of Vestiges to 2-3, I think Yasha got 5 because as a Barbarian she could use a lot of weapons that others can’t, but that’s it.

Caleb- Spire of Conflux, Whisper

This is kind of a no brainer, I mean he’s a wizard, he can’t use most weapons, any armor, or shields so it limits a lot he can use on the list. Not to mention that the Spire was kind of made for him with his use/obsession with fire magic. Not to mention it would be kind of cute for Liam to use the Spire, Keyleth’s Vestige, with his new character

The only problem is that the Spire can only be used by a spellcaster, so it can be used by a lot of the party, while Caleb would be good with it he already has a lot of spells that can do the things the Spire can already and another of the parties Casters might be a better fit in the name of spreading power around.

Whisper is kind of strange, because it’s a weapon and Caleb doesn’t have the best dex for it, not to mention it was one of Liam’s Vestiges last game. But wizards can use daggers and while it wouldn’t be the best method for Caleb to attack, it would be helpful for him to get away from people by bamfing out without needing to risk attacks of opportunity. Also Whisper is was used in dark rituals, kind of like Caleb was being forged into a weapon by Trent, it would be nice for them both to kind of find redemption together.

Cadeuces- Deathwalker’s Ward, Spire of Conflux,

Cad was harder than Caleb, he’s a grave cleric so he can only use simple weapons which most of the Vestiges aren’t and medium armor and shields which aren’t that restricting, but he’d probably be really good with the Plate of the Dawnmartyr or something that could keep him up. Most choices for him I picked for thematic roleplay reasons rather than pure functionality. I think Deathwalker’s Ward is just good in general with its ability to give resistance to one of pretty much all magical damages you choose at the start of each day. The wings in the exalted state don’t do much for him but in the air he’s away from melee attacks by most things and I think Cad would just enjoy flying. However, it kind of fits him being a grave cleric, I know he doesn’t worship the Raven Queen, but they are associated with each other and it would be cool to have two goddesses associated with death and the grave in his corner.

The Spire is obvious, as I said in Caleb’s part, is just good in a caster’s hand, it’s free powerful spells that Cadeuces can’t normally cast to boost his utility. But the real draw is that the Spire is Melora’s Vestige born from her very breathe and Cad is a worshiper of Melora, the biggest one we’ve seen in either campaign, it would be nice to see one of her worshipers wield her gift. I think Caleb would be a better fit but Cad fits it pretty well

Jester- Honor’s Last Stand, Deathwalker’s Ward

Honor’s Last Stand is one that Vox Machina never found, which they didn’t really need since none of them used shields, other than maybe Pike, at least they never brought it up if anyone had a shield. Jester though does reference her shield a lot, with Laura and Matt attributing near hits to Jester being deflected because of her shield. The bonus to AC is generally good but Jester is normally in the back with the other Casters so the exalted form that lets her boost her squishier friends. Plus I think it would be funny for Jester to use the Vestige of the Platinum Dragon whose shrine she defaced.

I’ll admit that Deathwalker’s Ward is more for Laura then for Jester. Overall Deathwalker’s is just a good item, but Laura loves being able to fly, it’s why she stole the broom and got jealous/annoyed that she gave Vax the Ward last game since he could fly. It is also the one of Vax’s Vestiges, you know her brother last game, even if Jester doesn’t know the significance it’s nice to know that Laura’s character is being protected by Vax’s Vestige. Also, like Cad, I think Jester would just really like the idea of flying.

The Spire is of course as I’ve said an option because Jester’s a caster, but Jester doesn’t have Caleb’s fire theme going on or Cad’s goddess connection, so… it would be good, just not emotionally satisfying.

Fjord- Armor of the Valiant Soul, Honor’s Last Stand

Fjord’s really annoying to figure out since as a Hexblade warlock he can use martial weapons, but he’s also kind of stuck with his Falchion I think since it’s his pact weapon. You can change your pact weapon, but since Fjord’s a warlock for more than just mechanic reasons and it’s a story thing. I’m not even sure he can attune something like a Vestige since his patron is a demigod not a full god and I’m unsure if he could absorb a Vestige made by a true god. However, as a Hexblade he can use medium armor and shields.

There’s Honor’s Last Stand like with Jester is a shield that is really good, you can’t be knocked prone and on misses you can shove enemies away. Not to mention that due to being a Hexblade, pact of the blade warlock, with high con, Fjord tends to mix it up more than most regular casters, so the shield can help him but also front line fighters if he’s close to them like Beau and Yasha who are strong but don’t have a lot of AC or hp. While I’m not sure if I believe Travis when he says Fjord is Lawful Good, I also don’t think that Fjord is evil, I think he could attune to this Vestige.

Armor of the Valiant Soul is another Vestige that Vox Machina didn’t recover, not sure why, maybe it was just a time thing and they didn’t need it. Regardless it’s a good set of armor, I think Scale is medium, so Fjord can wear it, he’s like the only one who can use it to its full potential. A free use of the spell Command is useful for anyone, even if it doesn’t recharge off a short rest like the rest of Fjord’s spells. Fjord with his low number of spells slots would likely be grateful for any free spells he could get. Command isn’t a great spell (have since changed my mind), but it’s free and Fjord seems to like enchantment spells or at least he did so it would fit that theme. The rest of the bonuses of the Armor of the Valiant Soul are good, but in a general sense because it is a Vestige.

The Spire is of course as I’ve said an option because Fjords a caster, but Fjord doesn’t have Caleb’s fire theme going on or Cad’s goddess connection, so… it would be good, just not emotionally satisfying. And as I said weapons are kind of a grey area for Fjord, especially special weapons like the Vestiges. I’m sure they would be tasty for him though.

Yasha- Titanstone Knuckles, Agony/Pyremaul, Cabal’s Ruin, Deathwalker’s Ward

I mean I know it’s Grog’s Vestige from the last campaign, and I don’t want to say that only Barbarian’s can use the Titanstone Knuckles, but they do kind of benefit most from its abilities. The pure boost to strength is amazng for barbarians no matter what state it’s in, I mean it breaks the 20 ability score limit and enlarged is just a great spells for a barbarian. But what really makes the Titanstone Knuckles op a Barbarian’s hands is that a raging barbarian with the exalted Knuckles will be resistant to almost anything since the range makes you resistant to all physical damage and the Knuckles make you resistant to Fire, Cold and Lightning damage, which leaves Necrotic, Radiant, Acid, Poison, psychic, thunder, and Force, as an aasimar she’s naturally resistant to necrotic and radiant which leaves only 5 types of damage that can do normal damage against her, and thunder, force, and psychic are the rarest kinds in most campaigns. Plus, Ashley rolled a barbarian because of how awesome Grog was and Pike and Grog’s relationship was just the cutest thing. It would be nice for Ashley’s new character to show off how big of a monster she could be with her old best friend’s Vestige. The Knuckles also see to have something to do with Kord, Yasha’s god, since beating Groon was what got them exalted, but I’m not sure if it’s a confirmed thing or it just happened because it was badass.

Agony is a Vestige that Vox Machina go, and it’s a creepy one, Pyremaul was also not found, but not as creepy. Both of these are fine weapons, though not swords that Yasha seems to favor, they’re both really good at damaging people, the Pyremaul dealing fire while Agony deals piercing. I’d choose the Pyremaul for her over Agony seeing as it’s a twohanded weapon that Yasha seems to favor, the elemental damage increases it’s utility and it can knock people prone. That said Agony can let you keep attacking if you kill something which Barbarians are good at and frightens enemies on criticals so it’s a bit of a tossup.

Cabal’s Ruin is one of those Vestiges that since it’s not a weapon or armor it’s just good for everyone and its abilities are fantastic for anyone in any class. That being said for Yasha, she’s a barbarian, people are going to target her will spells, the Ruin’s ability to swallow spells and give her resistance against the type of damage is fantastic for her. The charges that let her deal an extra certain number of d6’s in lightning damage is also great and fits her zealot of the Stormlord thing she has going on.

Deathwalker’s Ward is of course a great all around Vestige, since it’s light armor Yasha could wear it and if she wore an Exalted Deathwalker’s Ward right now she’d have an AC of 17, which is what Grog had at the end of the campaign. Look, I love Yasha, but she has piss poor ability scores for a barbarian, she wears medium armor I believe because her con and dex aren’t high enough to have the barbarian’s unarmored defense be higher than what she’s getting with medium armor (she should try to get a breastplate though instead of what she has now which is likely hide, but that’s not for this post is about). With Deathwalker’s, which is light armor, Yasha could keep growing her dex if she wants to increase her AC because unlike medium armor light just adds your whole dex modifier. it doesn’t cap at +2. Of course there’s also the fact that as a barbarian, any extra elemental resistance is good, and you can prepare which one you’ll need. It might not give you as many passive resistances as the Titanstone Knuckles, but it gives more options of resistance.

The big bonus the Deathwalker’s Ward would give Yasha is of course the wings, wings that allow her to fly for an hour and move 60 feet. If you watched Campaign 1 (which I hope you did because if not you must be confused at this point) you know that Grog, Vox Machina’s killing machine, was unstoppable…, except that midway through the campaign they kept fighting things that could fly and get away from him leaving him useless for a good portion of the fights until they could ground their enemy. It’s kind of a weakness with frontline battler classes since you have to get up close to your enemy and your enemies can just move away from you to where you can’t get them. If Yasha had wings that allowed her to fly then it wouldn’t be a problem and she could keep destroying her enemies, not to mention that with her sentinel feat she could keep even flying dragons on her rather than any of the squishy members of the party.

Also... , I’m not going to lie, I think it would be cute from an rp stance for Yasha to get herself armor that allowed her to fly. We know that her own wings don’t let her fly and she’s tried in the past, so if she got something that actually let her fly it would be really nice.

Beau- Wraps of Dyamak, Whisper

Beau is a bit weird, seeing as shes a monk and doesn’t use a lot of weapons other than her staff, or armor, but she’s also not a caster. To be honest, I think she’d love the Titanstone Knuckles just because she loves being big Beau and the resistances it gives are great for any character, but seeing as she doesn’t use her strength score at all, it would be pretty much a waste having her wield them as a good item as opposed to someone like Yasha who would be an unstoppable monster. She could use her str in place of her dex, but it would get her +3 more to her attack and damage rolls which while good doesn’t matter if she has the wraps which in their exalted form will match with other bonuses made for monks

Obviously, being a monk, the Wraps of Dyamak would be perfect for Beau like they’d be perfect for any monk since only a monk can attune to them. Going by their Exalted State, the Wraps, +3 to attack and damage rolls for your unarmed strikes would be amazing for her like they’d be amazing for any monk, her attack bonus to her unarmed right now for her punches would be +10 to hit at level 7 which is crazy and her damage would be a 1d6 +7 for damage. As a monk, Beau can get 3 unarmed strikes with her basic round, and 4 if she wants to do fury of blows/Beaus, all of those with a +10 to hit, and +7 damage. Of course all Vestiges give a +3 in their Exalted form so that isn’t much to gawk at, but seeing as Beau is a monk and doesn’t really get fancy weapon effects it’s extra to her attack and damage rolls would really help her out compared to the others who have abilities to compensate. I mean truthfully, Beau can use weapons, not a lot and they’ll eventually get outpaced by her unarmed strikes and she seems to enjoy just using her staff as a weapon when she isn’t punching people, but she can, which is why Whisper is on her list.

In the Awakened state the Wraps of Dyamak give her the ability to cast Misty Step as a bonus action that recharges on rests or when she hits with a critical with her unarmed strikes. Beau has the most criticals out of the Nein because she attacks so much so while it shouldn’t be counted on, it isn’t insane for her to get critical hits after Misty Stepping to an enemy. Not to mention that she can Misty Step to an enemy in the air, wail on them and then Sentinel if they try to get away, which even if they did, as a monk she has slow fall which would let her negate the 3d6 of the fall damage as her reaction, which as a Cobalt Soul monk she can burn a ki point to get another reaction meaning she could still get Sentinel as an attack of opportunity. And of course in the Exalted state the Wraps give monks the ability to use Ravenous Strike once per rest, long or short. On a hit it allows monks to do an additional 6d6 of necrotic damage and then gain hit points equal to the necrotic damage. Monks while they can hit hard and a lot of times, have notoriously low hp, having a d8 as their hit die, the lowest of a frontline battler character, which is why they can move so quickly and can take Patient Defense. We see this when Beau tends to have low health if not be knocked out somewhere during the fight. Ravenous Strike would keep her up and at decent levels of health in the middle of the fight so that Jester and Cad wouldn’t have to constantly use their spells to keep her up and since it recharges during short rests like her ki points she can always get at least 6 hit points back (as long as they’re not resistant to necrotic) going into a fight that they rest before hand, though hopefully more.

Whisper is a weird thing that I didn’t think of until I looked at all the Vestiges and class lists and saw that Monks are proficient with daggers. Beau and other monks are so punchy that I forget that they can use weapons at all, even though Beau uses her staff quite a bit. Whisper is surprisingly good for her seeing as she’s a dex battler and daggers are dex and while it won’t do a lot of base damage with it’s extra d8 of psychic damage +the 3 it gets for being an Exalted Vestige +her dex mod it will do more than enough to compensate for having a d4 as it’s damage die. The frighten condition is decent, not great, but could always make it harder for your enemy to hit either Beau or her friends if she’s close to it. And of course the most important part is the fact that Whisper can bamf her to an enemy or away from an enemy if she needs to get out of a scrap. Monks have high mobility but doesn’t mean that they can always get to their opponents, normally they have to burn a ki point to do Step of the Wind like Beau did in the second Lorenzo fight. She used her second to last Ki point to get to him because she was prone and her last to stun him so they could wail on him to kill him. It turned out okay, but because they were lucky Lorenzo failed his con save, if he didn’t then Beau would be out of Ki. If she had Whisper she could have moved her speed thrown her blade, shadow bamf over to Lorenzo, hit him with her fist to try and stun and if that didn’t work hit him with her bonus to try and stun him again. This is one example but there are others where monks are just short the distance barely or the enemy is in the air and you can’t get to them. Like Misty Step with the Wraps you can get to your enemy, though Whisper is an attack action rather than a bonus but close enough. Also, rp wise, with other Vestige swaps on the list, Marisha is Keyleth’s player who was in love with Vax, it would be nice for her new character to use his favorite weapon in a symbolic gesture.

Nott Circlet of Barbed Vision, Spire of Conflux, Deathwalker’s Ward

Nott’s a bit weird since a lot of the Vestiges that would be good for her aren’t because of different reasons. Like Condemner would be perfect for her since it’s an assassin’s weapon…, but it’s a heavy crossbow which she doesn’t have proficiency in. I mean she could find ways to get proficiency for a heavy Crossbow, but this is just how the Nein are now, not if they wanted to focus their character in a way to being able to use a Vestige. Whisper is good for a rogue, extra damage and can bamf you around to whatever your throw it at someone or something. However Nott isn’t a dagger person like Vax, she’s a mostly range person daggering to teleport to someone isn’t in her best interest.

I think I see the Circlet of Barbed Vision, another one of Vestiges that Vox Machina didn’t get, would work well for Nott. The hit to Charisma isn’t exactly going to hurt Nott unless they do charisma damage to get her ability score to 0 but I can’t see that happening. The bonus to attack is good for her because bonus to attack is good for everyone, but especially good for sneak attacking rogues. Poison resistance/immunity is good for everyone but the fact that she can see invisible objects and people would be good for her, as a ranged damage dealer she could snip someone who turns invisible and runs away and Nott is good at investigation checks so finding invisible items or traps would be great for her. I’m gonna level with you though I picked this one because it was one that doesn’t really fit the others and when I started this I was trying to figure out how to separate the Vestiges so everyone could get one without overlapping. I think this is a fine item, but kind of weak compared to other Vestiges.

I could also see the Spire of Conflux being a surprisingly good fit for Nott, I think as an Arcane Trickster she counts as a spellcaster even if her default class isn’t so she should be able to use it. While not the best fit I could see the benefits to Nott having the Spire. I mean she’s sneaky so she can get around to enemies good points and strike when they least suspect it or summon an elemental in their midst and hide so she doesn’t have to break concentration. Plus it has the Spire spells have are spells that she isn’t going to get for free so it’s not a bad choice. Also I could imagine all the casters fighting over the Spire, and Nott being like ‘until my children can get along I’m making sure no one can use this but me’ sort of thing.

And of course Deathwalker’s Ward which again is an amazing Vestige for anyone, light armor, can choose a resistance at the start of the day, and the flying would be great for Nott. Maybe she wouldn't be able to hide as well in the sky but she’s also not likely to get attacked by melee and she can focus on whoever is engaged with one of her friends to sneak attack each round. At first I didn’t think Deathwalker’s would be good for Nott, because I thought it was medium armor which means it’s not for Rogues, I though Vax could wear it without issue because of his levels in paladin, but because it’s light armor it works fine for Nott.

Mollymauk- Kiss of the Changebringer, Mythcarver

Yes, I included Molly in this because he’s still a member of the Mighty Nein damn it. He’s also pretty hard to pick out a Vestige for since I don’t know much about Bloodhunters. Thinking of Molly as a person not just a class though I think Kiss of the Changebringer or surprisingly Mythcarver would work for him.

This Kiss of the Changebringer is a great all round Vestige since it isn’t a weapon or armor and the bonuses are great, +3 to all saves in its exalted form, can’t be restrained, paralyzed, grappled, and a free luck point. I think that despite being a worshipper of the Moonweaver Molly seemed to believe an awful lot in luck, even if it cost him in the end.

As for Mythcarver, I know that Molly not being a bard loses the big advantages of inspiration giving advantage and cutting words giving disadvantage to your enemy, but it is still a really good sword and Molly uses swords. Not to mention an extra d6 of force damage is great for Molly who could add his own cold or radiant damage with his rites. The exalted form is crazy for someone who already adds an extra d6 like Molly could do some crazy amount of attacks. Molly already gets 3 attacks, (2 for his action and 1 for his off hand) with an exalted Mythcarver he could do 4 attacks with his action and an additional with his bonus for 5 attacks, 4 of those with his rite damage and an extra d6 of force, would be incredible.

That’s why I want Molly to have Mythcarver mechanically, but to be honest, I just think the sword and him would fit together perfectly. Molly might not have the charisma and class of a bard, but he has the heart and soul of a showman and a storyteller. Mechanically, Molly wasn’t a good bloodhunter, stat wise, he was unbalanced, he didn’t have the right ability scores in the right area to sustain himself, and two weapon fighting is crazy for someone who literally drains their health to use most of their abilities and is a front line fighter. That’s why I think a sword that he can’t use all the benefits of would be perfect and so in character for Molly, because Molly didn’t care about what was best or smart, he cared about being happy and being an odd piece that still fit with other odd pieces.

So this is it, just so you know I make no claims to be an expert, just doing this for fun and when I can see on the wiki’s. I hope you enjoyed reading this, do you agree, disagree, I’d be glad to hear any feedback.

#critical role #the mighty nein #vestiges of divergence #vox machina #critical role meta #critical role spoilers

74 notes · View notes

maybe-limerence · 1 year

Text

Royal Enchantment Academy

Iris (He/They)

wisdom, hope, trust, and valor

Iris, the first flower folk to greet you.

Top of their class, kind and loved by everyone. Always giving encouragement and guidance for those behind him.

He had many people who loved him, both platonically and romantically.

They paid no mind, but when they laid eyes on you? His world stopped. Quickly regaining composure, they went over to give you a tour (the headmaster asked him to do so).

He walked over to you, tapping your shoulder. You made the cutest yelp he ever heard.

“I’m sorry for startling you—“ he gave a bright, kind smile “—I’m your guide,”

You let out a sigh of relief.

In the sweetest voice they have ever heard you said “Thank you, I appreciate it,”. You returned their kind smile.

I need them.

Type of Yandere: Dependable

Lily (She/Her)

purity, innocence, rebirth, femininity and fertility

If you thought Iris had a lot of admirers, you haven’t seen Lily.

She was like the queen of the school, beautiful and sweet. She never got angry, her temper and tolerance for others being rude to her was admirable.

When she saw you, she felt something… new.

She felt her heart flutter, her stomach had butterflies, and her cheeks felt hot. The newness was how her pussy felt. It felt good? What was that feeling? She never felt it before.

Then she saw you laughing with Iris. Right, you two were close.

She felt a pang in her heart. She knew that one. Sadness.

Then, as if a little voice whispered, a thought crossed her mind.

“Let them corrupt you”

Now, with a new fire in her soul, she had a mission.

You.

Type of Yandere: Lewd

Peony (They/Them)

love, honor, happiness wealth, romance, and beauty

Peony. The lover of love. The hopeless romantic. They wanted to love and be loved.

The thing is… their parents are rich. They were taught to be skeptical of people’s true intentions.

They never found love because of their parents teachings.

That was until they met you.

They remember the day they met you. They dropped their wallet and without looking you gave it back to them.

You smiled and said “You dropped this,” then walked away.

They didn’t know what to do. All they knew was they had to be yours. And you had to be theirs (they may or may not have made wedding plans right away).

Type of Yandere: Obsessive

Hibiscus (genderfluid)

positivity, joy, and cheer

Hibiscus is, in the nicest way possible, a thembo. He knew he wasn’t smart, he knew he was gifted at sports though!

When he was called down to the office for a tutor, they could’ve sworn she’d seen an angel.

While the headmaster droned on and on, they found it hard to concentrate.

He felt drunk on your features. Your beautiful face, perfect body, she could even smell your shampoo/perfume/cologne.

And that’s when she got hooked.

She was happy you were in their tutor group, but he didn’t like it was Iris who was teaching you two, especially considering you two were friends.

He had thought he never had before.

Dark thoughts.

Ones about kidnapping you, ones about killing anyone who talked to you, ones about you loving him because you had no other choice.

There were sexual thoughts too.

Oh what he would would give to see you under them.

But that’s a story for a different day though.

Type of Yandere: Stalker (you’ll see)

Poppy (He/Him)

sleep and peace

Poppy fell for you when you walked into your dorm to find him sleeping in your roomies bed.

He was shivering and you put a blanket over him.

He had been half asleep the entire time, he came from a bad home that forced him to be alert.

When he felt the warmth and gentleness of your touch it was like everything melted away.

He had been ‘dating’ your roommate (it was more about the sex than anything else). You didn’t know this.

When you were dead asleep (gods, how do your snores even sound cute), and his ‘girlfriend’ tried to have sex with him, he pushed her away. She pouted, which annoyed him to no end, and he got up and walked away.

She chased after him, and when she was about to yell at him, he grabbed her by the throat and hissed “You scream and it’ll be the last thing you do,”

She whimpered, something that would’ve turned him on if he hadn’t met you.

He put her down, letting her catch her breath and walked out of your dorm.

The next morning, he made sure she didn’t tell.

He sat next to her, cuddling up real close and whispered “Say anything and I’ll kill you,”, flashed you a smile (which you returned) and walked away.

Type of Yandere: Aggressive

#yandere #flower folk #darling #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #am i horny?#for flowers??#oc stuff #maybe limerence #yandere x y/n #yandere oc #yandere original character

31 notes · View notes

ajw720 · 5 years

Note

At the end of the day, they were out with a crew of enablers. Not shocking to get some couple content, but let's review what else we saw: D dressed up as Charming, D in the group shot not touching her. D in the couple shot with just her with his hands behind his back (again not touching her), D in multiple videos with her nowhere to be found, and D in a photo from a ride not sitting next to her. #Couplegoals.

I agree, the stunt frankly is boring and tired and been done before. Add it is obviously a paid ad and promo.

I think D acted marvelously considering the circumstances, there was not one moment of couple’s goals in my opinion. Avoiding touching you alleged wife by holding your knee up uncomfortably is a challenge, even for someone that is a gym addict. And the only real smiles i saw were on the ride she was not on with him and with Chewbacca, and let’s face it, he is Chewbacca, and C has even worn the Chewie backpack in D’s honor which can be found here (x) on JJ Jr.

And m is once again showing her true colors, that she is utterly obsessed with us and mocking us and CC. And by doing so, she is only proving that CC and our fandom is something she fears. She just reminded us that D is in fact F/roggy and that someone loves him enough to be inspired to write one of his fav characters based on D. And never forget, F/roggy and R/ed do have a happy ending, they destroy M/orina in the end, using her magic mirror, and I have no doubt, that D and C will destroy M in the end (x). One of my fav quotes:

“And what truth is that?” the witch asked.

“How sensationally jealous you are of me!” Red declared. You heard me!” Red said. “I have flawless skin, beautiful eyes, fantastic hair, a naturally high metabolism- but I am also kind, considerate, giving, and a good friend. I’m am just as gorgeous on the inside as I am on the outside. And no matter how many potions you drink, no matter how many enchantments you make, there will always be a selfish, greedy, hateful, and ugly goat inside of you.”

32 notes · View notes

spooner-the-trinity · 4 years

Text

How Infinity Train pulled from Infinity War’s Playbook for Doctor Who’s final curtain

Funding for Shaffrilas is provided by: Skillshare, the sponsor of today’s video. Stay tuned for a train ride to discountkosh at the end of the video.

O hai, Tetsuya Nomura. That’s a nice hole you’re digging with your Kingdom Hearts, what do you wanna do with it? Keep digging? Why thou? O for a production company? That’s great, whacha gonna do with it? Name and develop the town the Toy Story flicks take place in? Yeah, alright. Add the goofy jock from Glee as a best friend for Andy that the Triceratops assumes is just a Dinosaur Toy down the street? What a funny joke idea! Nix the final playtime they’ve hoped to cap off the film with and save it for a later project? A tad disappointing, but alright. Make Sora a vessel for Xehanort? Whoa, that sounds hella har- A sexy Genie of the Rose who grants a wish for every petal on that collar-mounted rose of hers? Unique concept, but I smell some Hans Christian Anderson shi- The genie’s life force is bound to the Rose so she croaks when the last petal falls ala Beauty and the Beast? And there it is, Color me unsurpri- The Genie finds Andy and drags him into a sex scene to the tune of Aladdin’s Friend Like Me? I don’t think the parents would be okay with their kids watchi- Toonami’s airing this show? Wait, isn’t it on a competing networ- Lewis from Meet the Robinsons is Deleted by DOR-15 Ala the Nanobots from Jimmy Neutron? Mister Enter would be insulted on how you did his favorite Disney flick dirty like thi- Andy is shot into a wormhole and is mutated into a photosensitive Beast? Guys, It’s starting to look like a bad ide- The Genie is an aged-up Bonnie and she’s pregnant with Shantae!? Get me off this crazy tr-

Infinity Train Productions is one of the boldest associates Disney has in its corner right now, from wrestling away ownership of three Gainax originals to collaborating with competing animation company Dreamworks, the IT guys are pretty renowned for their kooky crossovers and kookier cinematic universe. And they’ve made sure to make their acquired goods count towards that universe instead of burn it to the ground LUCASFILM. Starting off by stating this is a universe where Second Impact prevented the assassination of JFK by means of tanging up 13% of the world’s population and weaved a few stitches of train tracks across the globe, naturally the space race escalates exponentially and they begin to develop new technologies and elect Walt Disney himself to be the President of the United States with Nixon as his running mate. That alone resulted in a Sequel Show to Brigadoon where a 24-year-old Marin Asagi boards the Challenger and ends up cast into the future with Melan, a retelling of the first arc of Gurren Lagann that featured Yui Ikari as a supporting character that saves Kamina from death, a twenty-six episode miniseries featuring Andy from the Toy Story gaining a magical genie bound to an enchanted rose, and that’s just the first half of its initial decade. I could go on about its repertoire of shows both original and acquired: Twelve Forever, Evangelion, both Arcadia trilogies with the elder of the two being started by the aformentioned show with that genie of the rose titled, erm… Genie of the Rose, but the one I’m aiming my sights on is the latest acquisition, one that they made in secret. Doctor Who and how they pulled from the playbook of Infinity War to bring the story to its last stop.

Now, quick recap on how Infinity War makes a powerfully heartfelt mass market appeal joyride out of a thoroughly depressing story about failure. Where most Marvel Villains are merely obstacles for the characters to overcome, Thanos acts and reacts as a real person. Where most conflict have certain factors that tip the scales in the favor of who’s tipping them, the conflict is one where either side could come out victorious, where the Comedy of the Last Farcebender ended with the good guys laughing off their failure, Infinity War ended with a content smile from Thanos and our heroes dead silent save for a minor peep of: “Oh, god.” Where the bad decisions in Farcebender are made from genuine stupidity, Infinity War’s stem from worrying whether or not certain sacrifices are worth it. With that crash course out of the way, let’s dig in.

First thing’s first, is the villain a compelling character? Well, although Sacha Dhawan has the same unhinged energy expected out of any incarnation of longtime enemy, the Master, complete with moments of geniuine affection to his former best beff, he’s ultimately not the main baddie of this piece, that honor goes to Alrick. Believed to be dead after a dirtbike accident, it turns out that he had been picked up by the train and has spent a good three decades or so fucking with the systems to construct an empire starting with the crazy world of Elmore all the way to the Lanes Between and yes, he has shown himself to be a caring father figure to Grace and Simon throughout the second half of Cracked Reflections which leads into the episode, he’s concerned for his future as he’s clearly not as lively as he was when he first climbed aboard and even expresses hope for Jesse returning to the train after taking the exit and getting seperated from MT. And oh, look! He returns after the big moment, that’s nice.

So yeah, compelling villain, that’s one tick. Is there equal opportunity for either side to win? Well, MT and early on Jesse before his aformentioned exit have the additional assistance of the Watterson family, Banana Joe, and seemingly Penny for a scene only to reveal her in a new shell complete with mind-control and reflective surface to sick the Po-Po on MT. But despite being the protagonist of his show of origin, she’s not the opposing side to Alrick this time around, it’s the wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey biatch herself and man, does it set up a curious comparison. Alrick is focusing his will into projecting his consciousness into the Doctor’s heart, an alien with countless eons worth of memories under her belt compared to Alrick’s measly sixtysomeodd laps around the sun. Not only that, but the Doctor is able to expel regeneration energy to fry the shit out of him if he feels the need to get a little messy. But with her locked up in the Time Lord Matrix which the Master has already skimmed through, there’s nowhere for the Doctor to run or even hide from Alrick. Throw in the Master’s ability to have his mind occupy two hearts at the same time whilst he’s chatting it up with the Lone Cyberman and the Doctor’s pretty pinned but still has a chance to outfox Alrick at the end of it all.

Bad decisions, the Doctor doesn’t trade lives so she keeps asking about the Timeless Child, what it’s supposed to be and why it drove the Master into absolutely butchering Galifrey after all the hard work each incarnation of the Doctor had. It turns out that this Timeless Child was a Pheonix Denizen created by Alrick to create a perfect world but One-One cast it out in hard-light beam form, striking Takeru and Ryou from This Ugly Yet Beautiful World from 2018. From the clipped wings came Hikari and Akari respectively whilst the main body crashed out of a wormhole into the sights of Tecteun who adopted the kid in time for a spaceship of highly-evolved snake people to crash land due to Kate and Leopold rules of time travel causing their machinery to get mucked up by Time Police in an episode of Rick and Morty of all shows, causing the child to fall to its doom and promptly regenerate, making her the first to do so in Galifreyan history. One of the survivors offers the gift of Time Travel in exchange for the power of Regeneration and Tecteun, scientist and explorer, jumps at the chance by means of tearing out the child’s soul for every three days that elapse. Obviously, she’s a fucking monster and she eventually does crack the code and test it on herself and the results allow the gift of time travel to bestowed upon the newly minted Timelords by Omega. Wow, all of this from a formally great show, (Doofenshmertz: what are the odds.) The Doctor is obviously unsurprised that Omega dangled the keys to time travel over the heads of the Shobagan race, but what horrifies her is that the very thing she and every other Time Lord we’ve seen had taken for granted was pilfered from a denizen that she learns after the life of abuse was created by some dude who hijacked some Train Car manufacturing equipment to build a perfect world. And it’s here where we see the main lynchpin of Alrick’s character: Perfection.

Those of you who’ve seen the whole series of Cracked Reflections will know that Alrick is an obsessive perfectionist first and foremost hence the plan to transform every Denizen of Elmore into full-blooded humans with leftover energy from this same Timeless Child. But not many of us recognize that this is only part of Alrick’s shtick. A simple man with complicated motives, a futurist in the trade of nostalgia, a conservative obsessed with progress, a gentle mentor with an impatient temper. These are just a handful of the ways to describe Walt Disney that were used by Ben Bouqulet, Mic Graves, and Owen Dennis to depict Alrick over the course of the last two seasons of Gumball leading into Cracked Reflections and Garrick Hagon truly gives his all portraying all the various shades of this man especially here when he is sharing his story of how he created a literal god only for One-One to cast it aside upon regaining control of the train from the very woman he spent the past 33 years building a perfect world for, a woman he cherishes like his older sister cherished his girlhood friend, a woman that even now still believes him to be ‘One-One: Gone forever?’ That is some next level tragic shit right there.

Of course, the Doctor is still concerned for this child and it’s here where a familiar face crashes the party to let the cat out of the bag, Morbius from the Fourth Doctor Adventure Brain of Morbius outing himself as the infamous Timeless Child as well as harboring his disembodied heart in the Doctor after his ill-fated Mindbending Battle. This swerve may have served to provide added tension towards his motives, is he really wanting to go back to his home and views traveling with the Doctor as his only way there, or is he biding his time, waiting for his chance to overwhelm the Doctor when she’s not looking. As we see more of Morby’s checkered past in excruciating detail, slavery to the Division with everything down to his personality programmed and dictated into a mind-melded Morby by an enigmatic cult dubbed ‘The Master Writers’ An organization build solely and specifically for Infinity Train Productions to use in their portfolio of works. And when they were done with their enslaved progenetor, the Division in which they served lined him up for an execution from the Fugitive Doctor, during the 2nd Doctor’s orientation. Then they promptly merc poor Ruthie to regenerate her into the 3rd Doctor, closing the gap between Troughton and Pertwee. So yeah, The Division, they’re run by total assholes and Numero Dos only agrees to work there if his first assistant is longtime companion Jamie McCrimmon. But look at his face, does this look like the face of concent and tolerance to you? ‘Joe (Help, I’m a Fish!): Of course not!’ Props to Sam the Man with a Plan Troughton for filling his father’s shoes in this emotionally tense scene. And this ain’t the chilling twist that shocked the fandom.

Alrick: “Whoever harbors the heart of the child is the child in of itself.“

Doctor: “Wot?”

Alrick: “It means that I will have my prize whether you like it or not!” (Punches through the Doctor’s Chest, crushes the Smash Ball within, causing the Doctor to turn into a pheonix before dissipating into Alrick’s body with the Smash Ball. Alrick’s Number skyrockets as his body regresses to his prime, the man laughing maniacally as the Timeless Child’s ultimate power rushes into him)

So yeah, Morby’s been reconstituting his powers over the centuries the Doctor had lived hence the golden energy during the later regenerations. How we find this out is by the titular character of the BBC’s last remaining reason towards that sweet TV Licence Money getting outright merced by Alrick in front of a guy that deep down still admires his childhood friend. This closes out An Untimely Caviat, the final episode in Doctor Who’s revived series, and leads us right into the finale of Cracked Reflection where he goes full on Disney Villain. Mercing the Master to make him a conduit to gijinkafy the entirety of Elmore, Co-Opting his Cybermaster drones as a mechanical army, ludiccrous speed incubating a pocket-dimension frog to house the Train Cars his empire had conquered via that same energy he channeled through the aformentioned Master, yeah, this does not sound like the man Amelia planned to marry if not had already married outright. Well, that’s the point. He’s drunk with power, it’s more likely that this is his ambition talking. No doubt he’s relishing in his own arrogance much to Marnie’s horror. Oh, yeah, Old Marnie’s doing her astral projection thing to react to her younger brother’s madness and watches on as MT gets roughed up by Super Alrick in front of an audience of his adopted children.

Of course, MT does find some santuary in the Number Car and re-unites with Jesse, resulting in the now sempailess Agent Sieve phasing through the glass screen whilst the train is figuring out how to solve Jesse’s seemingly unsolvable problem of getting a denizen off the train. But that just gives the Fleck some time to witness the madness of this rumored Apex fella as he ankleholds MT and gijinkafies Gumball and Darwin to demonstrate his final offer, her response is to break out a Denizen Ex Machina by prompting Alan Dracula to slice the monkeyfigher in half, causing him to regenerate into a pair of innocent, mindless little babies that will never bother anyone ever again… The Crown grieve for their master, Sieve calls off the manhunt for the rouge slither, the companions go their seperate ways with Graham staying on Earth to deliver the bad news the two youngest raising the two babies up to the Doctor’s standard… or at least one of them due to Yaz getting arrested by a Judoon Platoon before she could legally adopt Zarc. The expression of the companions are grim, and rightfully so, the one guy-or-gal that has kept the 21st century from falling into tyranny is no longer around to do the job they enjoyed doing whenever there was a sitch to see through. But after the wide shot of Yaz getting locked up in Shada we cut to MT, off the train and safe with Jesse in Arizona. Jesse’s brother Nate comes up to find his older brother with the very Chrome Girl he met on a magical train, Nate asks for the girl’s name and her answer?

Jesse: Dracula 2?

MT: (looks to the Lake, concerned that the Flecks would come after her but eases up when its clear that there are no Flecks coming.) I’m Lake.

We get a nice little callback to close out the series as the song Kibō plays in the credits, indicating that Hope is still out there in the cosmos, Doctor or No Doctor. And that is a powerful message to send to the audience and I have a pretty good feeling that whether or not the Doctor ends up getting revived in Kingdom Hearts III alongside all the absent heroes that Infinity Train productions had raked in over the years doesn’t quite matter, the studio does not need Doctor Who and its universe does not need the Doctor. And I have a pretty good feeling that the Doc may end up giving up their ticket back into the land of the living, leaving the universe to all the other champions of the cosmos that Toonami has flaunted over the decades. The Doctor has overcome many frightening, haunting, tyrannical, violent and downright Orwellian things in life and man, oh, man have we got a whole plate of them to overcome even now. Would I go back to this expansive world for further analysis, sure, if the views get gud. But the impact of the Doctor’s Death is a pretty big deal that actually caught a bunch of us by surprise despite the minor hints scattered throughout. (One-One: All aboard for emotional maturation on the finest freighter in all of Trenzalore) The Destiny of the Doctor News heard around the world, and the outpour of memories and grief rivalling even Mr. Peanut but unlike the legendary legume, our favorite timelord will probably be gone for a lot longer than just a couple of weeks and the time it takes will show how deep the rabbit hole goes. It will also show who’s willing to step up and find ways to make a difference in the lives of others, and they’re going to need to learn a thing or two to do so. (Cletus from the Simpsons Movie with the Skillshare Logo slapped onto his face in post: My time to shine.)

#schaffrillas productions #Doctor Who #Infinity Train #The Amazing World of Gumball #Timeless Child #Alrick #submission

2 notes · View notes

jenovahh · 5 years

Text

-Something is amiss.

Zenos is only a few yalms from his home when he senses a presence, a powerful one inside his home. He cannot tell who or what it is, but he does know that he had left you home with your daughter, cursing to himself for leaving you alone for any given moment of time.

His feet carry him swiftly and quietly to the front door, allowing him extra time to see if he can get a better feel on what is going on inside his home. He can’t get a read on anything and decides to slowly move in, blue eyes scanning over everything as he lurks inside. He passes by your bedroom, heart stopping as he sees you unconcious on your bed. He nearly falls to your side, reaching to check your pulse before a voice stops him.

“Now, now, don’t be hasty. A new mother needs her rest.”

That...voice.

Disbelief is the only thing that stills his blade as he follows the voice to a room nearby.

“She looked absolutely exhausted. And well...I felt inclined to give her some much needed rest.”

Reaching the doorway of your daughter’s room, his eyes narrow. A man stands with wine colored hair, a lavish, imperial overcoat donning his form. The man turns, showing a single lock of white hair, and your daughter gently nestled in his arms. He doesn’t outwardly show his wariness, a distant part of him berating him for being so weak to be concerned for anyone that was not himself.

To which he promptly reminded himself, there was power in cutting down those beneath you, to keep what was yours.

“Has your father caught wind of this? Why, I’m surprised he hasn’t descended upon Eorzea himself to snatch himself an impressionable heir...” His honored grandfather smirks at him, golden eyes twinkling. “Oh the chaos that would ensue...your rage alone might be enough to bring about another calamity.”

It is easy to see through to his baiting; after all his own father was capable of the same. It is only for his daughter’s sake, and your own that he keeps a cool head. “Still on about the rejoining are you? For someone blessed with immortality, you obsess over such asinine things.”

Emet-Selch lets loose a hearty chuckle at that, his shoulders shaking slightly. “Let’s hope your daughter does not carry that sharp wit of yours boy.” He grins, sharp teeth gleaming in the sunlight.

“Why are you here?” He finally asks, patience wearing thin.

Emet-Selch meets his eyes for a moment, as if thinking over his answer. “I wanted to see her.” He vanishes, sending Zenos into a state of alarm, but he hears the sound of a portal opening and closing in your bedroom.

“In days of eld would she dream of the day she would one day hang up her Convocation robes and start her own family...” he drifted off, nestling his babe in his arms. It gives Zenos pause as he notes a certain gentleness in his grandsire’s eyes, a specific care in the way he cradles his child. When his eyes drift to you there is a fondness there that surprises even he.

“While the circumstances of my supposed death shall remain secret...” Emet-Selch murmurs, turning to face him once again, “I had come, ready to exact my wrath upon this shell of a woman.” His face twists in anger, his scowl would send anyone that was not he running for the hills. “How could I let this puny, fragmented soul overcome the hopes and dreams of my fallen brethren? Why was I defeated by this shade of her once immaculate power?” He whispers harshly, to which your daughter stirs lightly in hold, releasing a small cry.

Immediately Emet-Selch coos to the child, rocking the babe gently in his arms. The motions are completely natural; practiced. Your daughter slowly quiets, lulled back into a restful sleep.

“I had sought her out, fully intending to exact my revenge, to rid the world of the Warrior of Light once and for all...” He sneers at disgust at the bundle in his arms. “Until this whelp cried upon my entrance.” He pinches a chubby cheek between two fingers. “And oh, how she wailed. Cried and cried without cease. Imagine my surprise to appear in the Warrior’s home to find she had birthed a child in the time I was away. You did not waste time. You would have served the royal line well.” He laughs bitterly.

“Your Warrior had come rushing from her bedroom to quickly quiet the child, rocking the babe as best she could, but she would not end her tears. I was preparing to leave, until I could see the helplessness in the Warrior’s face.” His face is sorrowful now, brushing a stray hair to the side. “It was then I realized that the babe was reacting to my presence. It knew I was hiding myself, and was trying to warn it’s mother to the best of it’s ability. Once I saw the Warrior was halfway into tears herself...” he sighs, brushing past Zenos to sit at the foot of the bed. “I had cast a spell on her, to grant her rest, and brought her to this room. I took the babe from her arms, and rocked her to sleep.”

Emet-Selch meets his eyes now, molten pools swirling with lifetimes of regret. “As miserable as she looked from being unable to calm her child, I could see the care and love she had so desired, even in the several lifetimes before this one.” He whispers, eyes downcast. “In the end, she did achieve her hopes, her dreams.” He vanishes again, Zenos following to see Emet-Selch gently lay your daughter in her bassinet, conjuring a blanket to cover her with. It shimmers unnaturally; as if enchanted. Turning to look at him, Zenos meets his grandfather’s gaze. “I thought perhaps, at least one of us should be happy.”

Unsure what to say, Zenos merely frowns. “My apologies for ruining what must’ve been a good mood prior to my arrival! I suppose I shall take my leave then.” With a dramatic wave, Emet-Selch grins deviously. “Ta-ta for now.” In a flash of dark magic, his grandsire vanishes.

Sighing, Zenos walks to the bassinet, inspecting the glimmering blanket. The material itself is not silken, but catches the light in the most interesting way. It hums lightly with power; and given his grandfather’s change of heart, it is most likely enchanted with some sort of protection. He’ll have to ask you about it, but only when you wake.

For now, he mulls over his grandsire’s words, letting loose a laugh as he gazes out the window. Yet another had fallen to your kindness and charm...

And you weren’t even awake to know it.

#zenos #emet-selch #kykt #super rough but an idea i had #enjoy #drabble

47 notes · View notes

niki-frost · 5 years

Note

Say in a few years they decided to remake OUAT and chose you as the lead writer/director, what would you keep from the old show and what would you change (y'know, besides the obvious) and what would you add?

Fantastic and thoughtful question! Thank you!

(Showrunner would be the term used here, as a roomful of writers have to write according to the showrunner, directors have to direct based on the script they’re given, and there’s usually a different director for every episode. Showrunners often like to direct the first and last episode of every season, also.)

I think I would try to stay true to the first season as much as possible and then take things in a different direction from there. Season 1 was so very special and I want to honor that, to bring the show back to its roots in a rustic Storybrooke and a minimalistic Enchanted Forest, in a storyline that focused on character development and their relationships with each other in both the past and the present. As much as I adore Disney stories, there are a lot of crossovers from the rest of the show that I would cut out. Too many characters made the ensemble too wide, and we lost so many crucial moments for characters to grow and evolve and interact with each other, all for a few cheesy Frozen cameos and too many AU versions of the same character. When shows gain popularity and bigger budgets, it’s so easy to forget what’s important in favor of using more special effects and CGI and big fancy sets, and I think that’s where OUAT started going downhill. They got popular, received more funding, and started focusing on trying to please every single outspoken fan screaming for certain characters or ships or cameos... and they lost sight of their own story. Fans are vital to a show, yes, but most of them don’t know how to craft good stories for television. They aren’t professional storytellers for a reason, and they all want different things. Trying to implement everything they want in your story is a recipe for complete disaster.

I would try to keep a lot of the main cast, but there would for sure be some recasts to remove actors who have made homophobic jokes or have encouraged toxic behavior in their fans, as my version of a remake would definitely be SwanQueen endgame. That being said, I think I would keep a lot of the H00d/H00k stuff as important plot points, highlighting the unhealthy nature of their relationships so that in the end, Emma and Regina would come full circle and realize they’re perfect for each other. I don’t think I would have needed to change much about H00k’s progression, except this time around, Emma would actually be aware of his toxic behaviors, call him out on it, and eventually cut him out of her life because she realizes he’s bad for her. H00d would likewise be treated similarly, except Regina would kick him out of town the moment he tried to sleep with her while his wife was in a coma in the next room. (Marian wouldn’t be Zelena in disguise. There’s too much rapey context there for what was supposed to be a Disney show. Marian would awaken and have Roland again and she’d take over the Merry Men. I would have made Zelena her own standalone villain, sweeping into town in perhaps season 2 or 3 on a cyclone, having finally figured out how to escape Oz and get to Storybrooke to get her revenge on Regina, only to later be defeated and put through rehabilitation. The Regina/Zelena sisterly bond is too important and I think their progression from enemies to sisters should have been more thoroughly explored.)

Split Queen, as entertaining as it was, would not have made it into my version. It felt like forcing more drama into a character that had already gone through so much personal growth, and her suddenly being “afraid” of her own darker instincts and wanting to be physically separated from it seemed like absolute bull to me. Regina’s a smart woman, and that had been the dumbest decision she’d ever made. Dark Swan would have stayed in Storybrooke (bye bye, Camelot, you useless loaf of greenscreen) and would have brought out the worst in Emma regarding all her inner struggles with being abandoned and sacrificed by her parents for the “greater good.” There should have been so much more Emma/Snow/David angst that they completely missed out on, especially between Emma and Snow. The Emma/Regina relationship would have been in that I-hate-you-because-I-secretly-love-you phase around this time, H00k would turn on her and, in his obsessive hatred of any Dark One, would try to kill Emma, citing is as a “mercy” because he loves her and would rather her die than to be evil. Striking a mortal blow to Emma, he’s about to finish the job when Regina blasts him away. Emma’s fading, about to die from whatever Dark-One-killing-weapon H00k had stabbed her with, and Regina would save her with a True Love’s Kiss.

We’re all gluttons for punishment, so of course Emma will be in denial and Regina will be bitter about it. I feel like this would be an excellent chance to make H00k the villain he was always supposed to be, escaping his prison cell and fleeing Storybrooke, only to return with friends to get revenge on Emma for daring to reject him even after she was cured of being the Dark One. This would be a fun point to bring in a cameo or two of villains to join H00k and terrorize the town with a new curse. As our heroes deal with this new headache, Emma and Regina are forced to work together. Henry would encourage them to talk, and with his optimism, they slowly find their way back to their friendship and more.

I don’t know that Hyperion Heights would have happened in my version. It was an entertaining reboot in a fresh location and I loved adult Henry, Ivy, Jacinda and Sabine. But again, the convoluted storyline and cheating and rape and weird pervy moments kind of sour the whole season for me. I would have gotten rid of a LOT of the realm jumping throughout the seasons, focused on a lot of character backstory and relationships in Storybrooke, and then perhaps have made a single curse (much like the first curse) that simply dropped all our beloved characters in a new world somewhat like Hyperion Heights, except without the confusing time jumps and new/AU characters. It would have been the last big hurdle for the heroes to solve before returning home, now with the ability to portal-jump to the Enchanted Forest to visit their medieval friends. And of course, Emma and Regina would be the power couple overseeing it all, making sure to keep their worlds safe and protected for many decades to come.

I’m rambling at this point, but yeah, as a gay woman of color who already works in the TV and film industry, that’s my pipe dream of how I would remake OUAT. Hope that answers your question. :)

61 notes · View notes

bittykimmy13 · 5 years

Text

The Longest Night

Midwinter is here. For years, Bristel has been smitten with Yarrow, a fairy from a viciously rival village. Nothing can prepare him for the moment that Yarrow requests his company at the Midwinter festival. And certainly nothing can prepare him for the consequences.

~~~

SAY HELLO to my fixation from the past 2 months!! Bristel and Yarrow will appear in a future Shot in the Dark novella!

Characters belong to me and the lovely @marydublin5 <3

(( More Shot in the Dark. ))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You don’t seem excited. What happened? You’re always buzzing before solstice festivals.” Rhona’s eyes darted higher in her vanity mirror to look at Bristel across the room. “You get to see your lordling. What, has he become less dreamy recently?” Bristel was sprawled on Rhona’s bed, so lost in thought that it took him a moment to catch up with what she said. He sat up, pointedly ignoring the dreamy comment. “It would be more exciting if he actually spoke to me.” “What do you mean? You’ve vanished half the night the past few festivals. You don’t have to lie to me if you’ve been sneaking off with him.” Her gaze sparkled with intrigue, desperate for gossip. “I won’t tell a soul.” “Well, when all your friends are soulless, that shouldn’t be hard.” He walked up behind her and checked the mirror to make sure his lavender hair wasn’t too tousled from laying down. “But for your information, I do not sneak off with him. Solstices have become so boring, I can barely remember them. Forgive me for not flying laps around the room.” “Hm. Maybe take it easy on the wine tonight, then.”

Bristel flicked his hand at the mirror, frosting it over with ice. Rhona whirled around, pouting.

“No need to get testy,” she said. “I was just so sure I saw him leading you off into the shadows during Midsummer.”

“What are you talking about, he barely looks at me!” He began pacing—luckily Rhona’s room offered ample space for Bristel’s wings to flicker with agitation. “I thought he was making some sort of cute game of it, but it’s gone on too long. He doesn’t have any interest in me. And, well… it’s for the best, isn’t it? It’s not as if anything worthwhile could actually happen between us.” Giving up on her reflection in the frosted mirror, Rhona strode into Bristel’s path. Her peach hair was pinned loosely, allowing most of it to fall in elegant waves. Her gown glittered like starlight, befitting a young woman of her status. “Don’t be a spoilsport,” she chided. “There are plenty of fairies around here who make eyes at the ravine villagers during solstice—and they do more than that, but you didn’t hear it from me. It’s harmless fun, it doesn’t have to mean anything.” She egged him on with a scandalous grin. “And don’t lie to me. I know you haven’t given up hope completely.” He crossed his arms. “What makes you say that?” “I see you fussing over your hair.” She reached out and tapped the side of his face with her fingertips. “And I know you only came in here so I can glamour some pretty festival glyphs around your eyes.” Bristel shrugged innocently. “Or maybe I like spending time with you when your posse isn’t around?” “Sure, Bris.” She steered him to the vanity. “Sit down and take that stupid ice off the mirror if you want me to make you presentable for your lordling.”

~~~

Bristel entered the Midwinter festival with silver glyphs shining around his eyes. It went perfectly with the icy decorations that swept across the tree trunks and shrubbery that enclosed the festivities. Soft light glowed from the windows carved into the tree trunks. Even the creek that coiled halfway around the grove seemed iridescent tonight. Already, the visitors from the ravine village had arrived. As Bristel and Rhona flew their way through the mingling crowd in the grove, he could sense the typical tension that was present at every solstice festival. They were civil enough tonight, but tomorrow, they would go back to being bitter enemies. The shaky truce was practically held together by Midsummer and Midwinter, when both villages would honor the extremes of the seasons side by side. There were musicians peppered throughout the festival—both from the creek village and the ravine village. The rivals tried to outshine each other. Some solstices, this led to a discordant tune of harps and fiddles and flutes. Tonight, the rivalry seemed to work in harmony. There was no denying the elegance of two rival girls practically dancing around each other in the air while they plucked their strings. Pausing at one of the shrubs, Bristel swiftly reinforced a shimmering pattern of ice that looked like it might be melting. Although it was the dead of winter, the grove was glamoured to stay at a mild temperature. He had performed a great deal of the spellwork that would keep the ice and frost intact through the night. Perhaps that would impress Yarrow. But likely not. Rhona grabbed Bristel’s arm, distracting him from his work. “Your lordling is looking at you,” she whispered. It was horrifically embarrassing how quickly Bristel swiveled his head. He tried to make up for it by allowing his eyes to rove casually, as if he hadn’t spotted Yarrow immediately by one of the decorative shrubs, accompanied by the other royal families from his village. He wore wine red tonight—one of Bristel’s favorite colors, but that was entirely irrelevant—and he was indeed looking back. Bristel tentatively raised his hand in greeting and wrestled away a hopeful smile. In response, Yarrow clenched his jaw and looked away, choosing instead to talk to his sister. Rhona shuddered. “I can’t stand that one,” she said under her breath, nodding at the sister. “High Lady Wren. What a nightmare.” Tearing his eyes away from Yarrow, Bristel frowned. “Why, what’s wrong with her?” “Really? You’re obsessed with her brother, and you don’t even know what she is?” “A high lady?” Bringing her voice even lower, Rhona glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “Her affinity is manipulation magic, from what I’ve heard. I’m surprised the other royal families allowed her to take her father’s place after his death. But now that I think about it, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s using her magic to manipulate the lot of them. Or maybe they’re grooming her into some kind of torturer.” Pursing his lips, Bristel sized up Wren. Although she was older than Yarrow, she was smaller and unassuming. It was hard to believe she housed the kind of glamour that could completely rearrange and unhinge a fairy’s mind. Yarrow looked away from Wren to scowl at Bristel. “I don’t know what you see in him,” Rhona said, tugging his arm to lead him in the other direction. “He’s seems like nothing more than an egotistical hothead.” “He wasn’t always like that,” Bristel argued, allowing himself to be taken to one of the many refreshment spreads at the base of a tree. The familiar scent of vegetable stew and warm berries made him feel marginally better. “He used to smile at me. He used to look like he wanted to talk, but his father refused to let him leave his side.” “Well, his father’s not there anymore, is he?” Rhona grabbed a berry slice, weighing it in her hands. “Face it, your lordling is grown up now and he’s turned into one of them. He realizes you’re not worth getting tangled up with.” He shouldered her. “Hey, thanks a lot.” “Oh, you know that’s not a knock on you. Look at you, you’re positively enchanting. But he’s been taught nothing but contempt for our village.” “Since when have I ever really been considered part of this village?” The words came out hotter than intended. He started to apologize, but Rhona recovered quickly, clearing her throat. “Come on, if you want to fool around with a ravine boy, we could find someone who’s less… important.” When Bristel didn’t answer, she sighed and kneaded her temples. He saw her gaze wander closer to the center of the grove, where a group of her cohorts had their heads bent together as they talked excitedly about something or other. “Go on,” he said, offering a half-hearted smile. “I’ll come find you when I’m done moping.” Part of him wanted her to insist on staying and keeping him company while he moped, but she looked relieved at being let off the hook. She squeezed his shoulder good-naturedly and fluttered off, leaving him to his troubled thoughts. He tried not to feel empty inside when Rhona’s friends greeted her with a chorus of hooting cheers. Just as he was working up the motivation to grab a bowl of stew, someone came up beside him. He didn’t look their way, stepping aside in search of somewhere more isolated to gather himself. But then she spoke. “Hello.” Bristel nearly jumped out of his skin, goosebumps raising along his arms. It was Yarrow’s sister, Wren. A high lady and alleged manipulator. Her long hair was jet-black like Yarrow’s, decorated with little shards of rubies shimmering like wet blood. Her smile was friendly enough, but there was something lurking beneath her eyes that he didn’t want to search for. “A radiant solstice to you,” he uttered in greeting. He’d never spoken to a manipulator before, but he knew the stories. They were capable of terrible and amazing things. She didn’t seem particularly intimidating, and that made her all the more frightening. “You were staring at Yarrow,” Wren said, reaching for a berry slice. “You make it too obvious.” Color rushed to his face. “High lady, I-I wasn’t! I… I’m not even sure who you mean. Is he, er… related to you?” She giggled. “You’re a bad liar too. Are you enjoying the festival?” His mind raced. Why on earth would a high lady from the ravine village care that he, of all people, was enjoying the festival? “It’s fine,” he said, his gaze darting around desperately for Rhona. “It’s a bit boring, isn’t it?” He drew in a steadying breath. Wren must have been used to this type of flustered reaction, because she didn’t seem bothered at all. For all he knew, she was already working her magic on him as punishment for staring at her brother. He wondered if he would even be aware of it. Before he could answer her question, let alone sort out his own questions, someone came up from behind Wren and took her shoulder. “The other lords and ladies want to know where you’ve gone off to.” Yarrow. Wren turned to him and pouted. “I’m sick of talking politics. Can’t you see I’m trying to make friends?” She gestured at Bristel, who felt more like a hostage than a friend. “Isn’t the point of this whole dull festival to make nice with the creek people? I can’t do that with the court breathing down my neck—everyone around here is afraid of them.” Yarrow smirked. “Afraid of you, perhaps. With all your creepy staring and unsolicited conversation.” And unholy magic, Bristel added. “I find that offensive,” Wren said, jabbing Yarrow in the chest. “You have every right to. Now hurry, before they start getting upset.” It was the strangest thing, seeing a high lady shooed off by her younger brother, but they must have had a much more comfortable relationship than it appeared on the surface. Bristel couldn’t help but feel like he had been saved—and by someone he fancied, no less. Relief should have overtaken him, but when Yarrow’s attention turned to him, he found his heart thudding with uncertainty. “Don’t mind her,” Yarrow said. “She’s still getting used to her rank as high lady. Our father would keep us on a short leash during festivals to make sure we stayed out of trouble. I suppose we’re both still unsure what to do with the freedom.” Bristel nodded shakily. “Seems you never left the royals’ side for years.” Amusement flickered at the corner of Yarrow’s lips as the implication hung in the air with all the subtlety of an earthquake. “Not that I’ve been paying close attention!” Bristel stammered. “It’s just—well, the royal families in your village don’t seem very interested in mingling outside their circle. Not that I’ve been keeping track of that, either.” He heaved a sigh and dragged a hand down his face. “I’m not trying to be rude, really, I—” “I don’t think you could be rude even if you tried,” Yarrow cut in. “Though perhaps by accident. Do you remember when we were children? The first time you came to my village for Midsummer, you didn’t look where you were going. You flew right into me.” Bristel would have gladly allowed the earth to swallow him where he stood. “You remember that?” “Of course! My father threw a fit, and you were apologizing so quickly, I couldn’t understand what you were saying. Then you flew off before I could get a word in.” “You did get a word in. Several of them. ‘Why don’t you watch where you’re going?’” Yarrow chuckled. “Did I really say that? I don’t recall. All I know is that I kept an eye out for you every festival after that.” Face growing hotter, Bristel stared at the refreshment table. There were other fairies there now, acting as though they were interested in the food, but he could sense them eavesdropping. “You wanted to make sure I didn’t ram into you again?” Bristel asked. “That, yes. And I always thought you seemed… interesting.” Oh, stars. Someone at the table was bound to have heard that. He’d have to ask Rhona about what sort of gossip started roving around—a ravine royal talking to the creek’s lonely outsider. “Yes, well…” Bristel gestured around vaguely, desperate to pile on how interesting he was. “I did help with some of the ice enchantments myself, you know. I mean, it’s… not as impressive as the decorative flames in your village during Midsummer.” A full-blown smile sprang to Yarrow’s face, startled and endeared and… sad? All three emotions vanished swiftly when he looked down and cleared his throat. Before Bristel could ask what was wrong, Yarrow fixed him with a more serious look that made Bristel’s heart sink. Certainly this was where the two of them would part ways, and Yarrow would tell him to stop staring all the time. “Would you like to accompany me tonight?” Yarrow asked. “Well, we’re… already accompanying each other right now, aren’t we?” Yarrow raised his eyebrows. “I thought it might be polite to ask a little more formally.” “Oh.” Bristel thought his heart might explode. “I’m not usually this stupid, I promise you.” Yarrow offered his hand, apparently oblivious to the stares around them. “Is that a yes?” Bristel wanted nothing more than to take his hand, but he resisted. “What about the royals, and your sister? Won’t they be upset if they see us… accompanying each other?” “You needn’t worry about them. I can make my own decisions.” He closed the distance and took Bristel’s hand. Then he lowered his voice. “But if you’re so worried, fine. Do you know of any places we can go where no one will bother us?” Bristel was reeling from the contact, praying that he wouldn’t let out a burst of ice from sheer excitement. “I know just the place,” he said. Although his wings were folded tightly to his back, Bristel felt like he was floating as he led Yarrow to the edge of the grove, careful to weave around the shrubbery to lose the gazes of whoever was casually watching. Along the way, he spotted Rhona, who looked on with a strange mix of disapproval and pride. She raised her hand and wiggled her fingers at him. Bristel pressed his lips together to hide a smile, hurrying on. “I’ve always liked this place,” Bristel told Yarrow, flitting over the roots of a massive tree. He landed amongst the entanglement and made his way down until the soft earth was beneath him. “It floods when the creek swells, but it’s safe enough right now.” Yarrow picked his way through the roots efficiently. “It’s nice,” he murmured. “And you can still hear the—” “Music,” Yarrow finished. “Of course.” He leaned back, half-sitting on one of the jutting roots near the edge. “So… you’re something of a ward to your village’s council, aren’t you? Does that mean you’ll have a seat on it one day?” Bristel swallowed the urge to lie. The last thing he wanted was to talk about how much less impressive his status was than Yarrow’s. “Not exactly,” Bristel admitted. “I’m more of an attendant, really.” “Oh? How did that come about?” “I wasn’t born in the village. My mother was nomadic. I was a child when she brought me—barely ten or eleven. We stopped in the village, and she… she was killed by an owl when she was out foraging. I was more or less adopted by the council and made to earn my keep. No family was willing to take me in, seeing as I was an outsider. Still am, in their eyes.” Yarrow scoffed, his eyes darkening. “Strange, how your village and mine have different ruling systems. Yet when it comes down to it, it’s all about blood and insiders and outsiders. What a farce.” He softened. “I’m sorry about your mother.” “It’s alright. She wasn’t much of a mother, if that makes it any better.” A funny little smile came to Yarrow’s lips. “No. It’s still pretty depressing.” He casually conjured a ball of purple flame and began tossing it back and forth between his hands. “But believe me, I know how it feels to be disconnected from those around you. The people who are supposed to be your family.” “I’m sorry about your father.” Bristel tried to catch Yarrow’s gaze, but he was too busy playing with the fire. “That was just a couple years ago, wasn’t it? Is it just you and your sister now?” “We have two younger brothers. We aren’t ready yet to keep them under control at festivals, so they stayed back at the village with their governess.” He gave a heavy sigh. “It hasn’t been easy since my father died. Not in the slightest. It feels as though every day Wren and I have to bend over backwards to prove that she is worthy of her title as high lady. And she… she’s changed quite a bit these past months. I barely recognize her.” Quiet hung between them for a few moments, wrapped gently in the music from the festival. “The other royals will have to accept her eventually, won’t they?” Bristel asked softly. “You’re both from a powerful lineage. They have to respect you.” Yarrow extinguished the flame, smoke curling in front of his face. “I’m nothing but a pawn to them. And now, it feels like she sees me the same way. Like I’m someone whose entire worth is based on how useful I am and how well I obey.” His gaze flickered up to meet Bristel’s, vulnerable. “Surely you can understand.” Bristel nodded slowly. “Of course I do. The council expects me to do everything they say, but it’ll never be enough. As long as I’m here. I’ll always be an outsider who should be grateful to live here at all.” Yarrow straightened up and pushed away from the roots. He looked taller with the low earthen ceiling hanging just above his head. He circled around Bristel, looking him up and down thoughtfully. Color rose to Bristel’s face, and he pushed his hair back, trying not to feel like he was being appraised. “I’ve seen you talk to others,” Yarrow said, sounding almost as if he was interrogating. “You’re not a complete outsider.” “Sure, there’s a few who don’t look down their nose at me all the time, but that doesn’t mean I belong.” Although Yarrow passed out of sight, Bristel still felt his eyes. He self-consciously reached up for his hair again, then dragged his fingers down the side of his face. As Yarrow came to stand in front again, his hand flew out and snatched Bristel’s. “Stop doing that,” Yarrow said matter-of-factly, as though he hadn’t just made Bristel’s heart ascend to the stars from the sudden contact. “You’ll ruin your glyphs. I’m sure you don’t want all your friend’s work to go to waste.” Bristel slid his hand free and frowned. “Did… did I tell you that Rhona did the glyphs for me? I don’t remember that.” For the first time that night, it was Yarrow who looked flustered. “Well, I always see you around her at the festivals, and I’ve overheard that she’s the one you creek people go to for solstice glyphs.” Something stirred in Bristel’s chest, knowing how closely Yarrow must have been paying attention to him and those he was around. The notes of the music outside began to stretch into a slower tune—a traditional ballad dedicated to the longest night of the year. Yarrow straightened his shoulders, as though composing himself, and met Bristel’s gaze. “Would you like to dance?” Yarrow asked. Bristel's instinct was to turn him down, certain that he would only make a fool out of himself if he danced with royalty. But instead, a breathless “yes” croaked past his lips. Yarrow didn't hesitate to pull him to the center of the earthen enclosure, and thankfully he didn't expect Bristel to lead. Bristel followed along as best he could, trying to keep his eyes on Yarrow's face instead of down at their feet. Luckily, the steps were similar to the ones Rhona had shown him the past few years. Finally, he was putting that practice to good use. They slowed down, and Yarrow guided Bristel's arms around his neck before slipping his own hands around Bristel's waist. “You’ve been practicing,” Yarrow said softly. “Is it that obvious?” Bristel’s chuckle cut off when Yarrow tugged him into the air, their wings buzzing in harmony. Bristel stared in wonder. “You're a master at this.” Yarrow pulled in closer, practically resting his chin on Bristel’s shoulder. “I have to be,” he whispered. The sound of his voice made pleasant chills creep along Bristel’s skin. Then they began to dance in the air. Bristel focused on not letting their wings collide, but that wasn’t a problem. Yarrow was a natural. He moved as if he knew exactly what to expect, as if the two of them had danced together a million times before. Has he been imagining this moment as much as I have? Bristel wondered. “Do you ever think about leaving?” Yarrow asked suddenly. Bristel stopped at a hover, snatching his hands back in sheer surprise. “Do you?” “All the time.” The light in Yarrow’s eyes was urgent, almost manic. “I just… I never wanted to go alone. I suppose I’ve needed someone to convince me to go through with it.” Unable to believe his ears, Bristel stammered for a second. He had thought about fleeing day in and day out for years. And somehow, the royal he had been swooning over was a kindred spirit. “What about your family?” Bristel asked. “Your rank?” “It doesn’t even feel like family anymore. I can’t take it. One of these days, I’ll end up speaking out. Everything is hanging by a thread, and I feel like I’ll ruin everything for Wren and my brothers if I stay any longer.” Swallowing hard, Bristel took a leap of faith and moved closer. “Then let’s go. Let’s leave this stupid rivalry and politics behind, if that’s what you really want. We could be nomadic.” Something strange came over Yarrow’s face again, rife with sorrow. He looked down, as if he was having second thoughts. “This rivalry… I’m sure you here all about how much your council hates us royals.” Bristel nodded somberly. “All they want is to have one over on your village. Wanting you to get the short end of the stick with trading and territory and all that nonsense. They’ve been especially upset these past few years. You always seem to be one step ahead.” “Is that so?” Yarrow pursed his lips and chuckled humorlessly. “What do you mean about trying to make us get the short end of the stick?” “Well, there’s talk to take more neutral territory for us. Through force, if necessary. They want to be sly about it at the negotiation tomorrow.” Bristel leaned in to catch Yarrow’s gaze, a tentative smile growing. “But that won’t matter anymore, will it? Not for us. That is… if you really mean it about running away.” Yarrow avoided eye contact, pondering. “We should flee while the festival is underway. We’re already at the edge—as long as we don’t draw attention to ourselves, no one will notice. We can stop at my village for supplies before we leave this forest for good.” Bristel could scarcely draw a full breath. He had never felt so simultaneously light and conflicted. No, not conflicted—just sad. He knew what he wanted, there was no conflict there. This place had never really been a home for him, but he would not be able to say goodbye to Rhona. He would simply vanish, though surely she would put two and two together once the news of Yarrow’s disappearance spread. “Let’s go,” Bristel said. He took Yarrow’s hand and guided him out of the roots. The fresh air seemed fresher than ever when they emerged into the night. It wouldn’t be wise to start flying until they were further away. In his hurry, he almost didn’t feel the clamminess of Yarrow’s hand. “Yarrow?” Bristel pulled to a stop and turned around. The music was still playing, and there were conversing voices just beyond a patch of shrubbery. He spoke in a low tone. “Are you sure you want to do this? You’re shaking…” Yarrow let go and took a step back, looking Bristel up and down before settling on his face. Then he grabbed Bristel’s shoulders and leaned in until they were nose to nose. One moment, they were frozen. The next, they both acted: their lips crushed together. Bristel slid his hands up Yarrow’s chest, then around his neck. For a few blissful moments, nothing else mattered. Not until Yarrow broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Bristel’s. “I’m sorry,” Yarrow whispered, his violet eyes wide and evasive. He delivered another kiss—fleeting and frantic. “I really am sorry.” “What?” Bristel cupped his face, trying to catch his stubborn gaze. “What on earth could you be sorry for? We’re leaving! We’ll be together. We’ll—” His whispers choked to a stop when someone came around from the side of the shrub. Wren folded her arms, looking amused. Bristel dropped his hands from Yarrow’s face, but Wren had to have seen everything. He turned to Yarrow, frantically searching for some clue of how to react. “My, my, you’re certainly getting faster at this,” Wren told Yarrow, then waved him off. “Stand aside. I know it wasn’t easy for you to watch last time.” Yarrow clenched his jaw with a longing glance at Bristel. “A few more minutes. Please.” She shook her head. “I told you to be careful, that you were getting too attached. But did you listen?” “What are you talking about?” Bristel demanded, looking between the two of them and shuffling back. Wren sighed and kept her eyes on Yarrow, as if Bristel was beneath her attention. “Tell him, if that’s what you want,” she said. “He didn’t take it well last time. Nearly had a breakdown, the poor dear. What makes you think this time will be any different?” “Yarrow.” Bristel felt like ice was spreading through his chest. “What does she mean last time?” Letting out a slow breath, Yarrow fixed him with a pleading look. He struggled for a moment before getting the words out. “Listen to me, Bristel. This isn’t the first solstice we’ve spent together. It’s the fifth. These past Midsummers and Midwinters, we’ve been sneaking off together, just like tonight.” “No, that’s… that’s not right!” Bristel closed his fists at his sides. “This is the first time we’ve spoken more than a minute, for stars’ sake!” But a shiver ran through him when Yarrow spoke his name—it was the first time he’d said it all night. And Bristel didn’t remember giving it to him. “Yet you’re always ready to jump into his arms,” Wren said, finally addressing Bristel with a sneer. “It’s quite sad, really. Sad enough to make you grow on Yarrow quite a bit. I’m not fond of seeing him upset. Feel free to take comfort in that, but it must be done.” “What is ‘it’?” Bristel asked. Yarrow hesitated and glanced at Wren, who merely crossed her arms, looking more and more annoyed. “It’s… memory alteration,” Yarrow said. “You won’t remember tonight as anything but another uneventful solstice. I’m sorry, Bristel… I just—I’m sorry. We needed to prove our worth to the other royals. Wren is able to keep her position if we offer inside information about trading and upcoming negotiations.” Bristel blinked hard, fighting the threat of tears. “Why? Why me?” “You’re a ward of the council,” Yarrow said helplessly. “And he saw you were smitten with him over the years,” Wren said. “And this is quite enough, Yarrow. There’s no sense in tormenting him any further. Leave, and let me do what I need to do. He won’t feel any pain, you know that. He won’t remember how terrible he feels right now.” Yarrow didn’t budge. He squared his shoulders and glared at her. “No.” “What did you say?” Wren snapped. “I said no. Not this time. Not ever again. I… I can’t do this anymore.” He stepped between Bristel and Wren, his hands trembling at his sides. “I’m done fighting tooth and nail just to be allowed in our own home. We can get far away from here, Wren. Now, while everyone’s distracted with the festival. We can stop at the village, get the boys, and leave all this behind. I refuse to be part of this.” “You’re out of your mind!” Bristel considered flying off as the siblings viciously bickered. There were other fairies just beyond the shrubbery, in the grove. He could call for help… But anger boiled inside of him. Whatever glamour had been performed on him must have been melting away now that he knew the truth. It all came rushing back the more he thought on it, like a blindfold had been ripped from his eyes. The past four festivals had played out the same as tonight, beat by beat. The difference was Yarrow’s improving efficiency. Wren startling him when he was alone. Yarrow coming to shoo her away. Bristel eagerly finding solitude with him. Dancing. Speaking as though they were kindred spirits. The promise to run away together… Betrayal. “It was your idea,” Bristel said softly. The other two turned to him, but he only had eyes for Yarrow. “The first time this happened… You said it was your idea. You laughed. You laughed at how easily I fell for you and your lies.” Yarrow did a good job pretending to be devastated. “Bristel, no. That was two years ago. That was before I… I got to know you. I was just so relieved we had a way to stay in the royals’ good graces—” “But it was your idea, wasn’t it?” Bristel snapped. “Tell me!” The music in the grove faltered at his shout. “Yes,” Yarrow said, his voice breaking as though the word stabbed him in the gut. If that simple word really hurt Yarrow, Bristel wasn’t content to leave it at an emotional wound. His affinity may have been ice, but an inferno of rage burned inside him. He gave a cry of anguish and threw his hands out, aiming them at Yarrow. A gale of ice blasted him squarely in the chest, and he choked out a grunt as he was knocked off his feet. He sprawled on the ground and gasped for air. “How dare you!” Wren shrieked. The sound of buzzing wings approached, voices raising with alarm in search of the commotion. Several other fairies came around the shrubbery—villagers from both the ravine and creek territories. One look at the lordling on the ground was enough to send the ravine villagers into a fury, but they were the least of Bristel’s worries at the moment. Wren was upon him. He could have shoved her off if not for her magic. She dug her fingers into the sides of his head, screaming an incantation he had never heard before. All at once, Bristel lost feeling in his legs. He collapsed while the other fairies looked on. He searched desperately for someone to help him, but no one lifted a finger against Wren. He opened his mouth, but he could not speak. Wren went on with her twisted magic, taking more and more from him. A haze entered the corners of his vision, tunneling into the center. He could see the creek village council and ravine village royals push their way to the front of the forming crowd. Two of the royals ran over to Yarrow, helping him sit up as he clutched his chest and fought to steady his breathing. One of the high lords took the lead, his voice booming over the confused murmurs. “What is the meaning of this?” “High Lord Ivar, this creek parasite attacked Yarrow!” Wren declared. “Unprovoked! I tried to stop him.” Bristel shuddered and tried to speak, but the glamour was too strong. Wren’s fingers were still locked around his head, holding him up. “Treason,” Ivar spat, rounding on the creek council. “Such violence at a solstice festival is punishable by death! And he is your ward, is he not?” Try as he might to fight his haze, Bristel couldn’t make himself react to his own death sentence. He merely sat there as if every bone in his body had been glamoured into lead. His eyes settled on Elise, the head councilwoman of his village—the closest thing to a maternal figure he’d had since his mother’s passing. Elise pursed her lips into a thin line, addressing Ivar. “How do we know your lordling didn’t strike first?” “You’ll find no burns on your ward,” Wren said, then she muttered another spell. “I have a dose of truth glamour on him. Watch for yourself.” She maneuvered herself around Bristel, placing herself right next to him. “Nod or shake your head. Did you attack my brother?” Bristel had no control. He nodded. “Did he raise a spell against you?” Wren asked. He shook his head, wailing on the inside that she had been the one ready to throw his mind into darkness. But his lips would not move. Outraged shouts rang among the crowd from the ravine villagers. Even the villagers of his own home looked on in disgust that he would bring shame upon them during the festival—one they were hosting, no less. Elise looked down at Bristel gravely and heaved a sigh. “There is nothing we can do to protect you, you fool,” she growled. “You know the nonviolence pact as well as anyone. Why you would choose to do this… I don’t even want to know.” She turned to Ivar. “He is at your mercy. Do with him what you must, but understand, he is an outsider. He does not represent us.” “No!” Yarrow staggered to his feet and went in front of Ivar. For a moment, Bristel thought he would tell the truth. Instead, Yarrow threw a glare of contempt his way. “As much as I would love a public execution, I humbly request that we take him prisoner. I want to make him suffer for what he did. I’m owed that much, seeing as I was his target.” Ivar narrowed his eyes, then nodded. “Select a team of guards to take the prisoner. You and High Lady Wren will go ahead to the village with them. The rest of us will stay a moment,” he said, turning his hard gaze to the council. “To discuss this unfortunate incident.” Wren undid the spell enough so that Bristel could not put up a fight, but he would not be dead weight. Guards came to collect him, and he was half-dragged away. He still couldn’t speak—he could barely breathe. As he searched desperately for someone to defend him, he caught sight of Rhona at the edge of the crowd. Her hands were over her mouth, and her eyes were glistening. But she only watched. ~~~ In the hour it took to reach the ravine village, Bristel focused all of his energy toward breaking out of the glamour, but it was no use. He was forcefully escorted down into the rocky chasm where the village was hidden, and everything happened so quickly that the following silence was more frightening than the initial descent. Soon enough, he found himself alone. The glamour didn’t begin to wear off until he had been laying in his cell for what felt like ages. Feeling came back slowly to his body, but exhaustion hit him and he could barely bring himself to move. There was little he could do but lay there and take in his surroundings. He had been taken to Yarrow’s village—a place he visited once a year on Midsummer—but he had never gone underground into the network of rocky tunnels. When they had dragged him in, he tried to keep an eye on where they were taking him, hoping to find his way back outside if he managed to escape. The twists and turns were too confusing to keep track of. They had finally stopped in a dead-end tunnel, and he had been shoved into an alcove. The team of guards performed spell after spell: an earth-affinity fairy had conjured roots to grow straight out of the rock to seal the alcove like bars, and another couple of fairies had glamoured his prison to make magic unusable on the inside. Once Bristel found the will to move, he took a shuddering breath and pushed himself up to his hands and knees. He couldn’t fully stand in the cramped cell. Scraggly vegetation clung to the ceiling of the tunnel, dotted with the dim light of glowing white flowers. There didn’t appear to be anyone outside his cell. He tried to force his arms through the thick roots, but they would not give way. Thorns scraped viciously at his skin. He clawed at the base, where the roots erupted from the ground, but he was no match for the spellwork. It didn’t stop him from trying. He meticulously picked at every root, his hope dwindling with each fruitless second. He stopped when he heard someone coming. Jolting away from the roots, he folded his wings tight and sat with his back against the rocky wall. Perhaps his fate had been decided by the royals. Perhaps he was about to be executed. “This is where he is,” the earth guard’s voice said. “Perfect.” Yarrow turned the corner at the end of the tunnel, coming into the flowers’ light. He faced the guard. “Leave us.” She hesitated, biting her lip. “My lord, I don’t think it would be wise to—” “I want some privacy with my attacker,” Yarrow said coolly. “And unless you doubt the spellwork of your fellow guards and yourself, I should be perfectly safe.” The guard didn’t try to talk him down again. She walked off and turned the corner, leaving Yarrow and Bristel entirely alone. Bristel stayed back against the wall, his breaths becoming quicker. Try as he might to look furious and nothing more, tears pricked at the back of his eyes as he glared through the roots of his cell. He was glad his voice didn’t shake, at least. “Well, it looks like you’re about to lose your smitten victim,” Bristel said, astonished that he could talk about his own death so matter-of-factly. “What will you do when I’m gone, turn your sights on someone else? After that scene I caused, I doubt anyone from the creek will want to go near you.” Yarrow walked right up to the cell and dropped to his knees, gripping the roots. He began murmuring a spell, his eyes never leaving Bristel. Purple flames flickered from his hands and began eating away at the bars. Gasping, Bristel pressed himself back harder. The roots—the only thing separating him and Yarrow—fell away to ashes. Raising his hands, Bristle choked out his own spell, but the anti-magic glamour was still thrumming inside the alcove, even with the physical barrier gone. He peered wildly past Yarrow, wondering if he could rush past quick enough to conjure an ice spell inside the tunnel. But what good would that do? All Yarrow needed was shout for a team of guard to come barreling down the tunnel. Bristel squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the agonizing burn of fire. “Get up,” Yarrow whispered urgently. “I can make a distraction, but you need to be quick.” Bristel’s eyes flew open, releasing tears down both sides of his face. “No. Please. Please stop. I-I don’t want to do this anymore. No more games. Just do what you came to do.” “This is what I came to do.” Yarrow ducked into the alcove, making himself just as vulnerable to the nullifying glamour. He took a seat beside Bristel, who leaned away and looked straight ahead. The tunnel was wide open, but he wasn’t foolish enough to make a run for it. Not yet. “I had to make them think I came to torture you,” Yarrow went on softly. “But I won’t. Of course I won’t. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I wasn’t lying when I said that Wren’s changed. And about how I’m sorry for everything. You need to get away from here. I’m giving you the opportunity. It won’t make up for everything I’ve done to you, but it’s a start.” Bristel stared. For an instant, he allowed hope back into his shattered heart. “How do I know this isn’t a trick?” he asked nonetheless. Desperate as Yarrow looked, his eyes took on a reckless sort of spark. He grabbed Bristel’s arm, then shoved him out of the alcove. Bristel whirled around and to see Yarrow still crouched in the magic-free zone, making himself entirely vulnerable. “There,” Yarrow declared. “If you’d like to have a free shot at me, you’re more than welcome to. You’ve got nothing left to lose, right?” “You… you’re awful,” Bristel croaked. “You’re a liar. You may not have manipulation magic, but you are as much a manipulator as Wren. You could have gotten me killed tonight—and you still might. But… if you really mean it about escape, then get me out of here.” Yarrow crept out of the alcove and stood by him. He reached out to take Bristel’s hand, but that was not allowed. Bristel rigidly stepped away, and he thought he saw hurt flicker in Yarrow’s eyes. Good. Part of Bristel was still unsure about following him at all, but his options were limited. He could stay in the alcove and die, or he could follow Yarrow and probably die. Before he could fully weigh his options, Yarrow pushed past him and beckoned him along. “I’ll take you to a tunnel that will lead you straight to the opening of the ravine,” Yarrow whispered. “All you have to do is keep moving forward. I’ll lead them off your trail. Once you’re out, stick to the shadows. It’s still dark.” “My lord?” another voice said. The guard. She was far closer around the corner of the tunnel than anticipated. She stared at them, eyes wide. Her scowl fixed on Bristel, and the tunnel began to tremble from her earthen magic. “I don’t know what trickery you’ve fooled him with,” she spat at Bristel, “but you can be sure you’ll stay in that cell until you rot!” She threw her hands out and chanted. Roots sprang from the walls, floor, and ceiling. Yarrow blocked Bristel and unleashed his own magic. Purple light filled the tunnel, flames eating away at the enchanted roots. The guard stared in disbelief for a second before she drew in a deep breath and shouted behind her. “The creek boy is escaping! Yarrow has betrayed us!” Yarrow grabbed Bristel’s wrist and wrenched him along the tunnel, throwing a warning flame at the guard, who sprang against the wall to avoid getting singed. She continued screaming betrayal, turning the corner of another tunnel to get help. Bristel couldn’t have kept track of where they were going even if he tried. Yarrow led him down turn after turn. The flowers overhead changed color at each new stretch, until finally they emerged into a wide-open chamber. But it was not freedom. They were still underground, and it was too late. A dozen guards were already darting out of other archways and closing in on them. Before Bristel knew it, someone came from behind, and he was wrenched away from Yarrow, who sent out flame after flame, only to have each one extinguished by the water affinity guards. “Stop!” Yarrow shouted. “Leave him alone!” As they were both subdued, Bristel met Yarrow’s gaze desperately. It took several minutes for the purple flames to give up igniting. There was no way they could take down a team of guards on their own. Bristel knew it was pointless to fight as they were taken into another chamber—a spacious room with a dais at the front. It didn’t take long for the ruling families of the village to gather there, along with commoners looking on from near the walls. Bristel and Yarrow were positioned apart from each other, both of them flanked by guards. Wren was the last one to join the royals on the dais. Judging by the look on her face, she had already been explained what happened. “Yarrow.” Her voice carried over the murmurs around the room, silencing them. The coldness in her tone was undermined by desperation. “Tell me what they’re saying isn’t true. Tell me this… this parasite forced you to free him. Tell me you’re not a traitor.” “I’d tell you to put truth glamour on me, but I’ll save you time,” Yarrow snapped. “He didn’t force me to do a thing.” “He is a traitor,” Ivar said, turning his glare to Wren. “I pray such treachery does not run in your blood.” Wren paled. She struggled for words, looking between the other royals and Yarrow. “I’m not a traitor,” she said finally. “Nor our two younger brothers. I confess this to you to show my loyalty: Yarrow told me himself he had grown a soft spot for the parasite. He has fallen in love.” A buzz ran through the gathered villagers. Bristel could feel their disgusted scowls upon them both. He shivered where he stood and stared at the floor, the word love pounding through his head. Ivar’s voice cut through the murmur. “And what do you say to this, Yarrow?” “I refuse to a pawn any longer is what I say. Bristel had every right to attack me after what Wren and I have been doing to him.” Yarrow’s voice rose furiously. “Let him go, dammit.” But Wren wouldn’t hear it. The other royals were staring at her, waiting for her to make a just decision befitting such treachery. “Denounce him at once,” she begged Yarrow. “Both of you, denounce each other if you want even the slightest chance of making it through the night.” “Of course I don’t love him,” Yarrow said. “He’s just an unfortunate tool I’m sick of using.” The announcement might have hurt if Bristel believed it were true. When all eyes turned to him, he followed suit. “How could I possibly love him?” Bristel said. “He’s tricked me, used me.” “Very well,” Wren said quickly. “They have denounced each other. Take the prisoner back to his cell—have a guard there all hours of night and day while we deliberate on what to do with him. And Yarrow, you will come with me—” “This is insufficient,” Ivar interrupted, and other royals nodded grimly in agreement. “Yarrow was found helping the prisoner escape. He attacked the guards. He is lying.” “A truth enchantment, then?” Wren suggested. “No,” Ivar said coldly. “They are obviously lying to escape execution. Let us see for ourselves how desperate they are to live. A duel to the death. If Yarrow lives, all is forgiven. If the outsider lives, he is free to leave.” Bristel felt as though a knife had been twisted into his gut. There was a ringing in his ears. His guards turned him to face Yarrow, and in a matter of seconds, the two of them were alone in the middle of the room. In another life, they might have been closing the distance to dance together. Yarrow stared at him, his face unreadable. “Kill him, Yarrow!” one of the villagers shouted. All at once, there was a cacophony of voices screaming for Bristel’s blood. Yarrow’s wings twitched, and he began to step forward. Bristel flinched back and raised his hands, ready to retaliate against the fire that Yarrow would have no choice but to conjure. But instead, Yarrow merely reached for Bristel’s hand and placed it against his own chest. “Just make it quick,” Yarrow whispered. He threw a glance toward his sister, as though seeing her for the last time. “I know I deserve to suffer, but please. Just make it quick.” Bristel tried to pull away, choking on his own words. “What are you doing?” The voices began to quiet around the room as the scene unfolded. Yarrow fell to his knees and put Bristel’s hand on his forehead, shutting his eyes. “You can finally get away. From here, from the creek village. You can be free. I’ve brought you nothing but misery. Let me give you something nice for once.” Wrenching his hand back, Bristel could only stare. He barely knew Yarrow, but Yarrow knew him. Even the memories that had been hidden by glamour felt like they belonged to another person. But with each second that Yarrow impatiently awaited his death, Bristel felt like those solstice nights hadn’t been a complete lie. “I can’t do it either,” Bristel said. He turned to the rest of the room, eyes settling on the dais. “We refuse to duel!” “Bristel, no…” Yarrow shook his head. The low mutterings of the crowd settled into utter silence. It wasn’t a normal kind of silence. It was charged, ready to burst. Bristel thought they might start throwing their own deadly spells into the middle of the room at any moment. “Execution!” Ivar shouted. “Both of them!” “No!” Wren cried. Every eye turned to her. She stood in the middle of the dais, chest rising and falling with sobbing breaths. Slowly, she squared her shoulders. A golden aura gathered around her. “Yarrow is of my clan. The final judgement is mine.” She turned her anguished, furious gaze to the middle of the room as Bristel urged Yarrow to stand. “You are exiled. Take your parasite pet if he pleases you so. May you both suffer out there with no community, no family. If either of you are spotted in this territory, you will be killed on sight.” For an awful moment, Bristel thought the other royals might overrule her, but the fairies on the dais wavered for a moment, as if in a daze. They didn’t raise a word against her. As Wren stepped off the dais, she looked winded, as though she had just performed a great deal of magic. She exited the chamber without so much as a final glance at her brother, tears running down her face. The guards grabbed both Bristel and Yarrow, leading them toward an exit tunnel. Villagers hit the two of them with petty spells and insults on their way out of the chamber. Bristel flinched at first, but with every step toward freedom, his fear was replaced with clenched fists and an iron will. Starlight glimmered overhead. They were led out of the ravine. The guards, who might’ve known Yarrow all their lives, barely acknowledged him as they stepped back near the drop-off and watched to make sure that the exiled would not attempt to re-enter. Bristel and Yarrow began walking in silence, until the ravine was far behind them. “She saved us,” Bristel murmured finally. “She… she manipulated the other royals so they wouldn’t disagree with her. Didn’t she?” Yarrow’s stony expression didn’t change. “It was the least she could do.” Another beat of silence. “You shouldn’t have done that,” Bristel said as the shock wore off and the reality of their situation truly hit him. He hurried forward to step in Yarrow’s path, making him stop. “You had a life, rank, e-everything, Yarrow… Why would you do that?” Yarrow offered a crooked smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You know why.” “You… you did it for me?” “For us.” Yarrow stepped around Bristel and took off walking again. Bristel rushed to catch up. Somewhere along the way, Yarrow slipped his hand into Bristel’s. Somewhere farther along the way, Bristel stopped minding it was there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TWO YEARS LATER

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been about a week since the last resting ground. According to the directions given by the nomadic fairies, the next resting ground would be coming up soon—not soon enough, in Yarrow’s opinion. He was ready for some actual provisions and hopefully a bed. It was their third winter as nomads, and still Yarrow wasn’t used to throwing together makeshift shelters. “Is that it?” Bristel asked. Yarrow flew a little higher to see past the thick pine branches around them. He followed where Bristel was pointing and spotted some huge human machinery near the wide river. The yard was abandoned and rusty. By the look of it, the forest was taking over the edge of it. Occasionally, a car could be heard passing on the road nearby, but other than that, the place seemed devoid of humans. Just as the other fairies described. “It must be,” Yarrow said, breathing a sigh of relief. He tried not to complain too much. Bristel was quick to tease him about missing the comforts of being a royal. As they flew closer to the abandoned machinery yard, Bristel hesitated. “Did they have to put the resting ground so close to all this human… stuff?” “It has to be safe,” Yarrow said dismissively. “It doesn’t look like humans have touched any of that stuff in years.” They split up briefly to search the trees near the edge of the concrete. Within a few minutes, Bristel called Yarrow over to show him he had found exactly what they were looking for: a series of runes etched onto the bark of a barren oak tree that signaled this place was a haven for nomadic fairies. “Can you sense any glamour around? I can’t.” Bristel turned in a wary circle, running a hand through his lavender hair. “It could be abandoned. You’d think they’d wrap this place up tight with enchantments since it’s so close to the road.” “Are you suggesting we keep flying until the next resting ground?” Yarrow asked. Bristel shivered from the cold, clearly hating the idea. Yarrow smirked and flew closer, chanting an incantation to conjure warmth around them both. “I don’t think you’d do well out there for much longer. For an ice fairy, you’re awfully whiny about the cold.” In an instant, Bristel sent a flurry of snow from the ground at Yarrow. “Hey!” Yarrow intensified the heat wave around him in an attempt to melt the snow before it could hit him. For his troubles, he ended up getting sprayed with melted slush. “You seem to forget that it's a very bad idea to tease me when there’s snow around,” Bristel said, calling forth more snow with a wave of his hand. They both grinned breathlessly as they fired spell after harmless spell, weaving around the winter-bitten vegetation and trees to chase after each other. The sun still shone somewhere behind the gray sky; they had plenty of time before it got dark and they needed to get serious about shelter. However, their game was cut short when the sound of an engine approached. Yarrow whirled around, eyes darting between the trees until he spotted a car pulling right up to where the forest met the machine yard. He and Bristel were out in the open, and though they were a good distance away from the car, he got the sick feeling in his stomach that they could have been spotted. Cursing, Yarrow pulled Bristel up to the nearest branches. They wouldn’t have much cover with the trees in this grove being bare, but it was better than nothing. He made sure they were on the opposite side of the car. His heart seemed to skip a beat when the door opened and then slammed shut. Several minutes passed while Yarrow muttered to Bristel potential plans of how to get away undetected. Although there were no footsteps crunching through the snow, it didn’t sound like the human had left, either. The next sound was not footsteps or the car door opening, but the fluttering of fairy wings. “Hello?” Another fairy appeared around the side of the tree, landing on the adjacent branch. Her dark blue hair was ratty. Her eyes were wide, scared. “Are you hiding, too?” Though startled by her sudden presence, Yarrow nodded. “The human…” “I know. I’ve been here a couple days, and he’s been around quite a few times. I don’t know if he knows this is a fairy ground, but I do know that there’s a safer place for us to lay low.” She paused, then offered a weak smile. “I’m Ariella.” “Yarrow. And this is Bristel.” “A pleasure.” She looked back over her shoulder, then beckoned. “Follow me.” When she took off, Bristel grabbed Yarrow’s shoulder to stop him. “I don’t like this,” Bristel whispered. “Something feels off, don’t you think?” Yarrow felt a tug of guilt. Ever since they had become nomadic, Bristel had been overly tentative around every fairy they met at resting rounds, as though they might be hiding an ulterior motive. Yarrow knew it was his own fault Bristel had lost his ability to put faith in others. “We can’t stay here,” Yarrow muttered back. “She obviously knows this place better than us. Besides, if she was the swindling type, this wouldn’t exactly be the time for it. She doesn’t want to be seen any more than we do. Now come on.” Reluctantly, Bristel took his hand and followed. Ariella took them to a large tree than gestured at the hollow. “It runs deep,” she said, hurrying them in front. “Watch your step—it slopes down pretty quick.” Bristel hesitated again, but Yarrow didn’t have time to argue with him. They were low enough to the ground that the human could easily spot them. Yarrow gave Bristel’s hand an encouraging squeeze and urged him to go in first. Bristel relaxed somewhat and headed through the opening. No sooner than they took two steps inside, Yarrow was shoved sharply in the back. He lost his balance and fell forward against Bristel. The two of them tumbled to the bottom of the hollow and fell in a heap. Metal clanged around them. Yarrow threw himself over Bristel, expecting something to crash down on them, but once the sound finished reverberating in the air, there was silence. The ground beneath them was cold and smooth. Yarrow scrambled off Bristel and charged viciously after Ariella, but he ran into metal bars. He bounced back, gasping out an incantation. He tried to ignite magic, but it was no use. It made him think of the glamour that had been used on Bristel’s cell a lifetime ago. Except it was not magic that was preventing his flames. Iron. “I’m so sorry,” Ariella whimpered. She stood on the other side of the bars, wringing her hands and trembling in the shadows. “He saw you. I had no choice.” “Who saw us?” Yarrow demanded. She looked away and wiped her tears. “I’m sorry.” A steady sound broke the silence outside. “Yarrow,” Bristel whispered, coming up from behind and seizing his arm. “Do you hear that?” He did. Human footsteps were crunching through the snow, heading straight for them.

#mywriting #shot in the dark #the longest night #bristel #yarrow #rhona #ivar #elise #ariella

24 notes · View notes

vivian077 · 5 years

Text

Is There Still Anything Love Can Do?

I am lost in mind, Is there still something love can do?

Marinette's Pov

I can’t take this anymore. I can’t forget what Lila said to me. Tikki said Marinette don’t listen to her. I said it’s even worse that Adrien supports her. Maybe I truly don’t have a soulmate. Tikki said don’t say that Marinette. Of course you have a soulmate. Just be patient. He or she will come sooner or later.

“Flashback At the Gotham Art Museum”

As I was walking around looking for inspiration for new clothing designs. Lila came to me and said, Marinette. Why are even on this trip. You know that this class is against you. Why don’t you just get lost. I said It doesn’t matter what you or this class think. You may put the teacher and this class against me but know this Lila all of your lies will crumble down and I won’t stop until you tell the truth or I expose you. Adrien came to see what is going on with us. He said, Marinette. Why can’t you be nice to Lila. Lila said Oh Adrien don’t worry about me. I wish that you are my soulmate. I bet Marinette doesn’t have a soulmate and is destined to alone for the rest for her life. Adrien said, Now Lila I know you are not my soulmate but I have to agree with you that Marinette doesn’t have a soulmate. I pity her since she used to be the everyday Ladybug but I guess that title goes to you Lila. Lila said, Oh Adrien I am so honored of your words. Come let’s go see the art sculptures. Lila whispers in my ear and said I hope you have a miserable death. Adrien and Lila went off to see the art sculptures. I had tears flowing on my face. What it hurts more is that I may truly believe that I don’t have a soulmate and Adrien supports Lila in bullying to me. I can’t believe that I used to have a crush on him. I ran to the bathroom to freshen up and Tikki comforting me. I came out from the restroom and when I come out my teacher and classmates abandoned me.

“Flashback Ends”

I was born into this world. With nothing with my open arms.

Caught between eternity. I am wallowing around to live.

Only people who give in and people who are smart to move.

When I know they will always win. I can’t find a place to breath.

Why do I even fight back. My only friends are Tikki, Chloe, Max, Alix, Kim, Kagami, and Luka. I can’t deal with this anymore. I’m tired of suffering. If my soulmate exists. I hope to see him or her soon. I wish they are by my side comforting me. I wished to be loved by my soulmate and never leave my side. I keep walking until I went to a park and sat on a bench and started crying again. Tikki was by my side comforting and hugging me.

Even rulers, Even God

Act like they don’t understand. But they must know what’s going on.

But they must know what’s going on. They sure know enough.

Bravery, hope and love. Everything that’s magical.

Damian's Pov

I am walking towards a park since I wanted to get away from my annoying brothers. But I feel that my soulmate is calling out to me. He or she is really depressed and can’t take her situation anymore. My mark on my shoulder is bothering me since it is starting to glow when I’m getting near the park. That mark on my shoulder is a ladybug on top of a apple blossom. I hope that my soulmate is alright. As I continue walking, I notice a girl with black hair that looks like blue when the sun shines at her hair and it is in twin tales . Her clothes are a pale pink jack and underneath her jacket is a pale pink shirt. She is also wearing white jeans and white converse shoes. I noticed that she is crying and something glowing on her shoulder. Can it be that she is my soulmate. Only one way to find out. I approached to her and said, Hey are you alright?.

Not knowing how to use it right. Adults just like to walk away.

But still you stand in who I am. From that day all along. You be in the center here. In the middle of all my rights.

Even when the world betrays. Turns its back against us still. I can still see you here. Facing everything you see. I am lost in mind. Is there something love can do? I am lost in mind. Is there is something I can do?

Marinette’s Pov

As I sat on the bench and crying. I noticed my mark is glowing. My mark is a robin bird but I ignore it and continue crying. Tikki heard someone coming and went inside my purse. Then a shadow appears in front of me and looked up and saw a handsome guy with the most beautiful green eyes I seen. He approached me and said if I was alright. I said to him, I’m alright. I was just crying because my problems. He said can you tell me? I said are you sure? It's a long story but let me introduce myself. My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. He introduced himself as Damian Wayne. I said ok I’m going to start telling you my problems. It all started when the new classmate came. I thought I could be friends with her but she started telling lies about meeting celebrities, saving the president of France. But it gets worse. She was telling lies about me bullying her and yet she is one who bullies me and makes my life miserable. Even worst is that my formal crush and friend Adrien supports her. He would tell me to take the high road and to not expose her and he agrees with her. All my classmates prefer Lila and my teacher doesn’t even help. She always demands me to be a model student. That I shouldn’t cause problems. I am sick and tired of this! As I was starting to cry again suddenly something unexpected happened. Damian hugged me.

You are the one who gave me all this bravery. So you are the only one I want to use it for.

You and me, shared all this love between us now.

You have to be the one it can be no one else.

I am lost in mind. Is there still something love can do. I am lost in mind. Is there something I can do.

Damian’s Pov

She introduced herself as Marinette Dupain-Cheng. In my eyes she is so beautiful. She looks like a angel. As she is telling me about her situation about her teacher, classmates and a bully named Lila. I notice she was close to cry again mostly when she mentioned some idiot named Adrien. I am so glad she doesn’t have a crush on this Adrien. He doesn’t deserves this angel. As she finishes venting, she started crying again. The only way I could comfort her is to hug her. I got closer and put my arms around her and giving her the hug she desperately needed. I notice our marks are in tune harmoniously and I knew from that then she is my soulmate. I said Marinette, I know your being so strong and I admire it. Things will get better. Your class doesn’t deserve the selfless being you are and you deserve better. Adrien doesn’t deserve you as a friend. Your teacher is neglecting you and doesn’t help you. Don’t give up. In case you haven’t noticed our marks are in harmony. I’ll be honored to be by your side as your soulmate.

Why do we get to dream when we don’t have anything to lose anymore.

Why do we get to have little hopes when we know we can’t live forever.

Why are we only giving things that disappear slip right though our fingers…still

Oh do we look hideous to be clinging on what we can not touch or are we beautiful

Oh answer me

Normal Pov

Marinette saw her mark glow and said my mark is glow. I can’t believe that your my soulmate. I thought I would alone. Tears are flowing to her face due to being happy. Marinette hugged Damian. Damian said if it's no problem if I call you Angel. Marinette said as long you don’t call me princess. I don’t like it since a Paris hero named Chat Noir would call me that and he wouldn’t leave me alone. He is obsessed with Ladybug and he would vent to me and I know his real identity. But that’s a story for another day. Damian said are you sure you don’t want to tell me. I could help you since I have resources due to being from a wealthy family. Marinette said wait, don’t tell that you’re THE Damian Wayne. Blood son of Bruce Wayne. Damian said at your service my angel. Then Damian kissed Marinette’s knuckle. Marinette said enchante bon monsieur. Marinette giggled softly. Damian said if it’s no trouble if I can kiss yon in your lips? Marinette said It’s no trouble and I’m honored. Damian's face comes closer and closer until lips met each other. The kiss was gentle yet sweet. For Marinette it was like a dream come true. The kiss lasted 10 seconds until Damian separated himself from Marinette. Both their faces were flustered and yet they enjoyed it. Marinette hoped that they would enjoy more time together. Their makes glow so beautifully. The colors were a mix of dark green and silver. Dancing in harmony as the two lovers embrace. Damian received a call and he answered. Hello

Dick: Where are you?

Damian: I’m at the Gotham Memorial Park with my newly discovered soulmate. Why?

Dick: Bruce is getting worried and he wants to know if you’re alright.

Damian: Yes I’m alright. Just pick me and my soulmate up.

Dick: WHAT! YOU HAVE A SOULMATE! JASON, TIM YOU GOTTA HEAR THIS! DAMIAN HAS A SOULMATE!

Jason: WHAT! DEMON SPAWN HAS A SOULMATE! THE WORLD IS ENDING! DID YOU BLACKMAILED HIM OR HER?!

Damian: SHUT UP! Yes I do have a soulmate and her name is Marinette and if you think you can tease me about it. Well prepare to get yourself killed.

Jason: Alright alright I won’t tease you much. But Bruce is going know more about Marinette from herself or you.

Damian: How about this I’ll invite her for staying at our mansion tomorrow? Let me ask her.

Marinette would you like to stay at my mansion tomorrow night? Marinette said are you sure it's no trouble? I don’t wanna intrude. Damian said it's no trouble. Marinette said it's a honor to stay at your home.

Dick: What did she say?

Damian: She said yes.

Dick: Excellent. I’ll tell Alfred to pick you guys up. He’ll be there in twenty minutes.

Damian: Ok bye

Hangs up

Damian said my butler Alfred is going to pick us up. Where are you staying? Marinette said my class and I are staying at the Wayne Resort. Damian said alright it’s just 20 minutes from where we are. While Alfred is coming. Why don’t you tell me about yourself. Marinette said my likes are fashion design, baking, hamsters, Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale, videogames, listening to music when sketching a new design and stargazing. My dream is to be a fashion designer. What about you Damian? What do you like? Damian said well I love animals and I’m a vegetarian. My likes are Alfred the cat and Alfred, Titius the dog, my family *don’t tell them I said that since they will never hear the end of it* Jon *don’t tell him as well since he will cry* and martial arts. Marinette said wow. That’s is so sweet. Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone. 5 minutes passed and Alfred came and opened the door to Damian and Marinette. He said Master Damian and Miss Marinette I hope you didn’t wait long. Damian said no Alfred, you’re just in time. Please take us to Wayne Resort. Marinette is staying there with her classmates. Alfred said of course sir. I heard from Master Dick that Miss Marinette is going to stay with us tomorrow night. Damian said yes Alfred. She is going to stay with us tomorrow. Alfred said alright sir I’ll prepare the guest room for tomorrow night. We arrive at Wayne Resort. Damian said Marinette. Will 6:45pm will be alright for Alfred and I to pick you up? Marinette said sure. That time is perfect. Marinette leans towards Damian and kisses him on the cheek. I see you tomorrow Damian. Damian was smitten and only gave a nod. Marinette got out of the limo and went straight for the lobby. Damian and Alfred went to their home. Marinette managed to sneak past her classmates mates and went to her room. Luckily she is the only one who has a room all to herself. Tikki came out and said Marinette you are so lucky. You manage to find your soulmate. It’s so romantic. Marinette said I know Tikki. Damian is so handsome. He is such a gentlemen. I thought I would never find my soulmate but now he found me and comfort me. Tikki said see Marinette. I told you that you will find your soulmate. You just needed to be patient. Marinette said you were right Tikki. Well be better get some sleep. Tomorrow is a big day and I want to enjoy it with Damian. Here you go Tikki a treat for supporting me all these years. Tikki said aww thank you Marinette. You’re the best Ladybug I ever have. Tikki went to hug Marinette's cheek. Marinette giggles and said time to get ready to bed. I can’t for tomorrow. Marinette puts her pajamas and went to sleep.

Love has bees sung in songs over and over yet.

Love has been told in films over and over and standing here in wilderness

I was born into this world and you but still I know.

I believe there is still something left that love can do

I believe there is still something left that I can do

Bonus:

Dick: I better tell Cass, Stephanie, And Barbara about Damian having a soulmate. Oh man a lot of teasing for him. I’m going to enjoy this.

Jason: Demon spawn has a soulmate. Well if she is against her will. I’m going to rescue her. I just hope she isn’t like demon spawn.

Tim: The end of the world is here! I better prepare. I hope his soulmate is not like Damian. God I don’t need another one like him.

Bruce: Damian has a soulmate. Huh. Well I better welcome him or her to our home tomorrow.

Alfred: I better prepare for tomorrow. Miss Marinette is so good for Master Damian.

Tikki: Damian is going to be good and gentle to Marinette. He better be or I’ll give him a taste of his own medicine. I wonder if he is the true Chat Noir. Only one way to find out.

Author's Note

Oh man over 2,500 words. I really enjoyed doing this one shot. I may make more in the future. Have a awesome day!

#maribat #maridami #damien x marinette #marinette deserves better

35 notes · View notes