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tennessoui · 3 years

Note

OOOOOOOOOH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

For the prompts - childhood best friend au bc i’m a sucker for them

- tealbluemagic

ah yikes i had thought and scripted like....two more scenes of them actually growing up (16/20 and 22/26) in my head dialogue and all but suddenly this was 2.3k because once again i was worldbuilding my cares away RIP!! palpatine was supposed to be the evil adviser it was gonna be great sad days.

2. Childhood best friends AU (medieval, fantasy, royalty AU--whichever term conveys the absolute zero amount of fact-checking that I have done)

They meet when Anakin is seven and Obi-Wan eleven.

Anakin’s tutor wants him to write lines. Again. According to the man, his letters do not look kingly enough.

Thank the gods that he set him to work and then left to flirt with the chambermaid. Otherwise, he probably would have had something very mean to say about the lack of kingliness that is required to climb out the window and down the ivy creeping up the castle.

Anakin lands on his feet and looks up in time to see his tutor’s red face in the window. “Prince Anakin!” The man yells, but no one is around to grab at him and he’s a very fast runner, even at the age of seven. He takes off to the gardens, laughing in joy at the freedom of it all.

Through the gardens and at the edge of the grounds are the stables. He’s not allowed to go there yet, because he is so small and the horses so big. It’ll be the last place they’ll check for him.

Anakin bursts through the doors and runs headlong into another boy, knocking him clean off his feet and into a pile of straw.

“Hey!” The boy shouts, shoving Anakin harshly off of him, face turning almost as red as his hair. Anakin blinks stupidly up at him as he rises and puts his hands on hips. “Who do you think you are?”

“I come seeking shelter and refuge as the prince of the kingdom of Tatooine,” Anakin blurts out the phrase he’s been taught to say should he ever find himself in danger in a new land.

Both of the boy’s eyebrows go up, and he looks scared for a second, which Anakin doesn’t understand. He’s much bigger than Anakin is and he’s still standing all angry over him. If anything, Anakin should be the one scared.

“Uh. Okay. Yeah, you can stay,” the boy says, backing away and crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “Just please don’t tell anyone I shoved you, your um highness. I need this job.”

Anakin lifts his hand so the boy can help him up, but the other boy doesn’t do anything but stare at it with a furrowed brow. “You may help me stand,” Anakin prompts him.

“Shouldn’t be touching no prince,” the boy mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “People can get killed for less.”

“Well, I want you to help me,” Anakin says, glaring at the boy who’s being very stubborn and silly right now. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

The boy looks skeptical, but takes his hand in his.

“What’s your name?” He asks him as he brushes off his fine clothes.

Now the boy just looks reluctant, but he must know better than to disobey a command from his sovereign, even when the sovereign in question is a child, because he crosses his arms over his chest and mumbles out, “Obi-Wan, milord.”

“I’m Anakin,” Anakin says, even though the boy probably knows this. It’s still only polite and his mother has always told him that being polite is one of the best things a prince can be.

“Yeah,” the boy says. Maybe his mother had never given him the same lesson. “I have to get back to work now, milord,” he turns before Anakin dismisses him, which is quite unheard of. Maybe Obi-Wan’s never been to court. Judging by the state of his clothes and the dirt on his face and beneath his nails, Anakin decides that’s probably true.

“What are you doing?” Anakin asks curiously, following behind the boy. It’s just he doesn’t meet a lot of boys his age and sure, this boy seems a bit mean and certainly at least a little uncivilized, but he still let Anakin stay.

“Shoveling horse shit,” Obi-Wan says. “Would you like to help?”

Anakin wrinkles his nose. “What’s up there?” he asks, pointing to a ladder as they pass it.

“That’s where we keep the hay. And it’s where I sleep.”

“You sleep here?”

Obi-Wan doesn’t respond, but his cheeks grow a dull sort of red.

Tactfully, Anakin changes the subject. “What else do you do?”

“Feed the horses, brush them, put them out to pasture, call them in, brush them again,” Obi-Wan lists. “When a nobleman wants to ride, I tack up their steed for them.”

A horse blows out a breath, right near Anakin’s face and he flinches, clinging onto the back of Obi-Wan’s shirt automatically. “And they let you?” he asks, trying to sound like he isn’t frightened.

“They don’t have much choice,” Obi-Wan says, smiling a bit as if something is funny. “Bit of a luxury around here, choice is.”

“What happens if they don’t?” Anakin asks, deciding to not let go of Obi-Wan’s shirt. Any proper gentleman or lady would have offered to let him hold their hand by now, but Obi-Wan is rough around the edges. Anakin finds that he doesn’t mind much.

Obi-Wan casts a look at him from the corner of his eye that Anakin doesn’t know how to interpret. “They get whipped.”

Anakin gasps in shock. “That’s so barbaric!”

The other boy snorts and shakes his head, as if Anakin is just too dumb to understand. “What are you doing here, little Prince?” Obi-Wan asks as he finishes dumping a pail of water into a horse’s bucket. “Why're you running?”

“My tutor was being absolutely awful,” Anakin replies with a pout. Obi-Wan hums, grabbing a shovel from where it’s leaned against a wooden door and carrying it to an empty stall. He follows him, wanting a proper response from the other boy. All that writing had been hurting his hand! The tutor is so unfair and mean and evil, and Anakin deserved to be treated with dignity and respect!

He tells all of this to Obi-Wan as he paces in the tight space of the stall, the other boy occasionally making noises to show he’s listening as he goes about his work.

“I don’t know what sort of problem he has with my letters! I know all of them now! Isn’t that enough?” Anakin asks angrily, crossing his arms. He’s tired and wants to sit down, but it smells poorly here. Maybe he can convince Obi-Wan to go to the ponds with him?

But Obi-Wan pauses, leaning against the handle of his shovel to look at Anakin. “You shouldn’t be complainin’ about getting to learn to read and write,” Obi-Wan says and then hastily tacks on, “milord.”

“But I don’t like it, and I shouldn’t have to do things I don’t like,” Anakin protests.

Obi-Wan smiles in a funny way. “You think I like shoveling shit, do you? But someone has to do it.”

“Are you saying that someone has to read and w--”

Obi-Wan interrupts him loudly. No one’s ever really done that before.

“I’m sayin’ that reading and writing is a...a privilege, milord.” He says the word privilege like he hasn’t ever said it before, like someone had said it around him and he’d memorized the sound and played it back in his head every night.

Anakin pouts, and Obi-Wan must see the look on his face because he softens his voice when he speaks again. “There’re...people who would kill for a teacher and they got none. If I was you, I wouldn’t ever leave my lessons early.”

Anakin crosses his arms. “But you’re not me. And I get to do whatever I want.”

It’s like a wall comes up between them. “That’s a luxury too, milord,” Obi-Wan says, turning away. “Excuse me. I need to work.”

The way he says this makes it clear that he doesn’t want Anakin around him anymore. “Fine!” Anakin snaps, face pulled up into a scowl. He pushes past Obi-Wan as hard as he can, hoping he can make the boy fall again, and leaves the way he’s come.

How dare the little stable boy try to correct Anakin’s behavior, when he’s the one with dirt all over his face!

He storms back to the castle and is in a horrifically terrible mood the entire rest of the night, right up until he goes to bed. Obi-Wan doesn’t know anything about anything, Anakin tries to reassure himself. He should have never met him.

He flips onto his side in bed, scowling even harder when his eyes alight onto the practice papers his tutor had left for him.

In his mind, Obi-Wan’s words repeat even louder. If I was you, I wouldn’t ever leave my lessons early.

Anakin rolls away until he can stare up at the ceiling.

He’d wanted a friend, but Obi-Wan clearly hadn’t wanted Anakin there at all. He wouldn’t have made a good friend at all. Anakin should just forget him.

But he can’t. He wants Obi-Wan to like him, although he can’t understand why or how to proceed.

He flips back to face the room again, too restless for sleep.

Inspiration strikes quite suddenly, making him sit up in his bed.

There’s one thing he could do that would make Obi-Wan like him. But there’s no time to waste.

He hastily dresses in his discarded clothes from yesterday and grabs two of the books on his desk. There’s a leather satchel hanging from his wardrobe that he’s never used before, but it’s the perfect size now. He slings it over his little shoulders and leaves as quietly as he can.

It’s a dangerous but relatively short journey back to the stables. The gardens look much scarier at night, but Anakin is being so brave about it. He’s on a quest. He clutches his satchel to his chest at every jumping shadow, but he makes it to the stable door and then through it.

The ladder he had pointed out earlier is a few steps into the barn, past two stalls. The horses look much scarier now that he’s here alone; their eyes seem to glow in the dark. He scuttles past them and grabs at the first wooden beam. Obi-Wan. He’s doing this for Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan, who is asleep among the hay, just at the top of the ladder. He’s curled up beneath a couple of blankets. He looks angry even in his sleep.

Anakin crawls forward and shakes him awake.

“Wha--” Obi-Wan jerks up.

Anakin clutches his package to his chest and sits cross-legged in front of him. “It’s me!”

“What?” The other boy asks, rubbing at his eyes. Anakin pouts. Has Obi-Wan really forgotten him in such a short period of time? That’s hardly fair, considering the fact that Anakin has not stopped thinking of him at all.

“It’s Anakin,” he says. “I came back.”

“Why?” Obi-Wan asks, squinting at him in the light of the moon that filters through the single window.

Anakin pouts harder. “I brought my stuff,” he says. It had seemed like such a brilliant idea, not even an hour ago, but in the face of Obi-Wan’s incredulity, Anakin only feels stupid. He pulls out the books anyway. “I thought. Well. That maybe I could teach you.”

Obi-Wan sits up all the way at this and bends forward to study the covers, although Anakin is sure he doesn’t understand the letters written on them. .

“Teach me?” Obi-Wan asks.

Anakin huffs. This is going to become quite a tedious conversation if all Obi-Wan does is repeat fragments of what Anakin says. “To read and to write.”

“Why?” he asks, but different than he had asked before.

He doesn’t think because I want you to like me would satisfy Obi-Wan now, and even Anakin knows it’s a rather weak explanation.

“Because...you want to know,” Anakin settles on saying, “and my mother always says that a king should do what he can to satisfy the desires of the kingdom.”

“Oh well,” Obi-Wan scoffs. “If the Queen says so.”

Anakin withdraws, stung at the other boy’s standoffish attitude. “Never mind,” he mumbles, reaching for the satchel to put away the books. “It was stupid.”

Obi-Wan’s hand flashes out to stop him. “No,” he says. “No, I’m sorry. I. Thank you, milord for this. You don’t know what you’re offering.”

“I’m offering you some lessons,” Anakin responds slowly. Maybe Obi-Wan had missed that part?

In the moonlight, Obi-Wan’s smile breaks across his face like a sunrise. “Of course, milord.”

“Call me Anakin,” Anakin demands. He wants a friend, not someone who will bow to his title or shy away from his crown. He wants an equal, a familiar. He wants Obi-Wan to treat him as if they carried the same amount of dirt and grime on their skin.

“Of course, Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispers, like he’s breaking a rule and afraid he’ll get caught. “But….”

“But what?” Anakin asks, scooting closer now that he knows he probably won’t be kicked off the loft to be fed to the horses in the morning.

“Did you bring a light to read by?” Obi-Wan asks, looking around his bare accommodations.

Anakin bites his lip and looks too, but the search is fruitless. “Well,” he says. “No.” The truth is that in the castle there’s always light when he needs light. There are always servants, ready to bustle in and solve his slightest inconvenience. He had never thought of light as a--what had Obi-Wan said earlier? A luxury.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan whispers, tracing the cover of the book with something like longing.

“I’ll come back tomorrow,” Anakin finds himself promising. “I’ll bring a candle or something. I will. Tomorrow night.”

“Really?” The other boy’s voice seems to get caught in his throat because it comes out sounding much weaker and higher than it ever has.

Anakin nods. He would. He’d come back every night for the rest of his life if it meant Obi-Wan would like him, if it meant they could be friends. “I promise,” he says, reaching out with his smallest finger.

Obi-Wan looks at it for a second before linking their fingers together. “Okay, milord,” he says. “I believe you.”

#the next scene would be anakin at 16 and obi-wan at 20 and anakin would be like hmmm i wanna kiss a pretty lady #and obi-wan is like now now the most important thing is whether or not she wants to kiss YOU #and anakins like?? what do you mean #and obi-wan is like think of it like: what if i wanted to kiss you but you didnt want to kiss me? if i kissed you anyway #you wouldnt like it at all #and anakin is like oh huh yeah um i have never thought about kissing you #but now all i can think about is kissing you #and they're together by the time he turns eighteen #and then when he's twenty-two he tells the evil adviser palpatine that he wont marry the pretty princess from palpatines home country #because his heart belongs to another #and obi-wan is like why the HECk would you do that i told you #from the VERY beginning #that people like me should never touch princes #let alone love them #and obi-wan thinks palpatine will have him killed to further his political power #so he runs away in the dead of night #and anakin is left wondering if obi-wan ever loved him at all actually???#but then obi-wan later catches wind of an assassination attempt scheduled from anakins coronation day #and he rides in to save his prince #idk i had an entire 5 and a half hour work shift to think about this #and then i realized this was supposed to be a drabble #so rip me #asks #tealbluemagic #my fics #obikin #prompt fill

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house-of-1000-corpses · 3 years

Audio

241 songs bangers for any occasion

1.MASTODON - Blood and Thunder 03:48 2.RED FANG - Wires 05:43 3.DYING FETUS - Second Skin 04:42 4.OBITUARY - Sentence Day 02:49 5.DEATH - Pull The Plug 04:26 6.AMORPHIS - Black Winter Day 03:50 7.MYRKUR - Leaves of Yggdrasil 04:00 8.NOTHING - Say Less 04:15 9.TORCHE - Admission 04:00 10.BARONESS - March to the Sea 03:11 11.THE DILLINGER ESCAPE PLAN - 43% Burnt 04:31 12.PIG DESTROYER - Trojan Whore 01:34 13.NASUM - Scoop 02:21 14.NILE - Cast Down The Heretic 05:45 15.SUFFOCATION - Catatonia 03:55 16.INCANTATION - Entrails of the Hag Queen 04:33 17.NEUROSIS - Through Silver In Blood 12:11 18.HIGH ON FIRE - Blessed Black Wings 07:43 19.YOB - Ablaze 10:13 20.WINDHAND - Diablerie 05:20 21.MONOLORD - THE LAST LEAF 05:14 22.BONGZILLA - Amerijuanican 06:46 23.GATECREEPER - From The Ashes 03:59 24.EXHUMED - Ravenous Cadavers 01:49 25.FULL OF HELL - Burning Myrrh 02:12 26.INTEGRITY - Hymn, For The Children of the Black Flame 02:16 27.GISM - Endless Blockades For The Pussyfooter 03:46 28.CONTROL DENIED - Expect The Unexpected 07:16 29.NECROPHAGIST - Only Ash Remains 04:11 30.OBSCURA - The Anticosmic Overload 04:16 31.REVOCATION - The Grip Tightens 04:10 32.GRUESOME - A Waste of Life 06:00 33.ZOMBI - Breakthrough & Conquer 03:46 34.GENGHIS TRON - Board Up The House 05:54 35.SURVIVE - A.H.B. 04:25 36.THE ALBUM LEAF - Ambo 04:53 37.CEREMONY - Turn Away The Bad Thing 04:02 38.BORIS WITH MERZBOW - Away From You 07:35 39.ROYAL THUNDER - Parsonz Curse 06:57 40.KING WOMAN - Hierophant 07:59 41.CLOAKROOM - Seedless Star 07:37 42.AUTHOR & PUNISHER - The Speaker Is Systematically Broken 04:14 43.DISFEAR - Deadweight 02:52 44.IRON REAGAN - A Dying World 02:24 45.TOXIC HOLOCAUST - Nuke The Cross 02:47 46.CANDY - Super-Stare 04:01 47.RINGWORM - Death Becomes My Voice 05:19 48.INTER ARMA - Citadel 06:40 49.PRIMITIVE MAN - Menacing 08:00 50.UNEARTHLY TRANCE - Famine 06:14 51.LYCUS - Solar Chamber 10:41 52.DEVOURMENT - Cognitive Sedation Butchery 04:53 53.SKINLESS - The Optimist 05:42 54.DEVIL MASTER - Black Flame Candle 02:46 55.OUTER HEAVEN - Bloodspire 04:15 56.GENOCIDE PACT - Conquered and Disposed 04:37 57.COFFINS - Hour of Execution 04:55 58.MAMMOTH GRINDER - Superior Firepower 02:38 59.LIVING GATE - Heaven Ablaze 03:35 60.REPULSION - Maggots In Your Coffin 01:45 61.AGORAPHOBIC NOSEBLEED - Agorapocalypse Now 02:25 62.MISERY INDEX - Fed To The Wolves 03:47 63.MORTICIAN - Rabid 02:01 64.BRUTAL TRUTH - Sugardaddy 02:36 65.HUMAN REMAINS - Rote 03:31 66.-(16)- - Me and the Dog Die Together 03:05 67.ALABAMA THUNDERPUSSY - Motor-Ready 04:21 68.ASG - Avalanche 04:17 69.CEPHALIC CARNAGE - Endless Cycle Of Violence 04:14 70.CHERUBS - Sooey Pig 04:44 71.COUGH - Haunter of the Dark 07:50 72.CRIPPLE BASTARDS - Non Coinvolto 02:04 73.DISEMBOWELMENT - Your Prophetic Throne Of Ivory 07:40 74.EX EYE - Opposition/Perihelion; The Coil 12:29 75.GADGET - Pillars Of Filth 01:20 76.GRAVES AT SEA - The Curse That Is 11:14 77.HAEMORRHAGE - WE ARE THE GORE 02:15 78.HORSEBACK - Mithras 05:04 79.ILSA - SHIBBOLETH 02:39 80.INDIAN - The Impetus Bleeds 06:40 81.INVERLOCH - Distance Collapsed (In Rubble) 08:39 82.IRON MONKEY - Crown of Electrodes 04:21 83.JOHN FRUM - Presage of Emptiness 04:47 84.LOCRIAN - Arc of Extinction 07:16 85.MARUTA - Hope Smasher 02:19 86.MIRACLE - Light Mind 04:49 87.THE OBSESSED - Sodden Jackal 04:23 88.PINKISH BLACK - Concept Unification 05:13 89.PUBLICIST UK - Slow Dancing To This Bitter Earth 03:36 90.RWAKE - Leviticus 07:17 91.SUMERLANDS - The Seventh Seal 03:46 92.TERMINAL BLISS - Clean Bill of Wealth 00:51 93.TRAPPIST - Victims Of A Bomber Raid 01:38 94.TRUE WIDOW - Four Teeth 06:16 95.WEEKEND NACHOS - Jock Powerviolence 01:23 96.WRONG - Culminate 02:33 97.USNEA - Lathe of Heaven 09:44 98.VICTIMS - The Horse And Sparrow Theory 03:41 99.ZEKE - Two Lane Blacktop 01:37 100.ZONAL - System Error -ft. Moor Mother 04:06 101.ARCADEA - Infinite End 03:28 102.BLACK SALVATION - In A Casket's Ride 07:03 103.BRAIN TENTACLES - Fruitcake 02:35 104.ABSCESS - Naked Freak Show 01:15 105.ABYSMAL DAWN - Inanimate 04:15 106.AGENDA OF SWINE - Gethsemane 01:08 107.ANAL CUNT - Radio Hit 01:11 108.ANATOMY OF HABIT - Radiate and Recede 20:11 109.ANTIGAMA - Pursuit 01:16 110.ATRIARCH - Entropy 05:53 111.BEDEMON - Child Of Darkness 04:12 112.BENUMB - Once And Never Again 01:00 113.BIRDS OF PREY - Hustling the Coroner To Overlook the Strychnine 03:27 114.BLACK ANVIL - May Her Wrath Be Just 04:25 115.BLACK TUSK - Bring Me Darkness 03:05 116.BLOOD DUSTER - Porn Store Stiffi 01:33 117.BLOODIEST - BROKEN TEETH 07:31 118.BRIAN POSEHN - Cuddling 03:55 119.BROUGHTON'S RULES - Reversers 03:50 120.BURIED INSIDE - IV 06:07 121.BURNT BY THE SUN - Soundtrack To The Worst Movie Ever 02:32 122.BURST - Where The Wave Broke 03:36 123.BUZZOVEN - Mainline 05:30 124.CALL OF THE VOID - Bottom Feeder 01:42 125.CAR BOMB - Gum Under The Table 03:27 126.CHRIS CONNELLY - Wait For Amateur 02:05 127.CIRCLE OF ANIMALS - No Faith 04:21 128.CHRISTIAN MISTRESS - Over & Over 02:41 129.COALESCE - Have Patience 03:11 130.COLDWORKER - The Interloper 02:38 131.COLISEUM - Defeater 02:01 132.COLUMNS - Mudfucker 01:18 133.CRETIN - Ghost of Teeth and Hair 03:54 134.CRYPTIC SLAUGHTER - Lowlife 02:32 135.CULTED - BROODING HEX 19:13 136.DAVIE ALLAN - Buzz Saw Effect 02:36 137.DAYLIGHT DIES - Four Corners 08:11 138.DEAD WORLD - The Machine 08:06 139.DEATH BREATH - Death Breath 02:55 140.DEKAPITATOR - The Storm Before the Calm 06:39 141.DISRUPT - Domestic Prison 02:00 142.DON CABALLERO - Railroad Cancellation 05:16 143.DUKATALON - ZX 06:23 144.DYSRHYTHMIA - Appeared at First 03:06 145.EAST WEST BLAST TEST - Magnetic Field 00:51 146.ECSTATIC VISION - Don't Kill The Vibe 05:00 147.EMBALMER - There Was Blood Everywhere 01:51 148.ENEMY SOIL - Sentencing 01:39 149.EXIT-13 - When I Get Low, I Get High 02:36 150.EXPULSION - Altar of Slaughter 01:43 151.FACEDOWNINSHIT - NPON 04:19 152.FATHER BEFOULED - Sacrilegious Defilement of Deranged Salvation 03:20 153.FLESH PARADE - Backstabber 01:14 154.FUCK THE FACTS - The Wrecking 04:39 155.GENERAL SURGERY - Slithering Maceration Of Ulcerous Facial Tissue 01:11 156.GENOCIDE SUPERSTARS - Hatestomp 03:08 157.GOD MACABRE - Lost 04:01 158.GOBLIN REBIRTH - Requiem for X 04:16 159.GRAVES OF VALOR - Suffocation of the Last King 03:45 160.HAIL! HORNET - Beast Of Bourbon 03:11 161.HARVEY MILK - The Anvil Will Fall 07:34 162.HALO - Buried In Light 04:37 163.HEMDALE - Delicious Gory Fun 01:11 164.HERO DESTROYED - That's An Axe 03:27 165.HOODED MENACE - Elysium Of Dripping Death 11:33 166.HOPE DRONE - Riverbeds Hewn in Marrow 10:39 167.HOWL - Horns Of Steel 03:26 168.HUMAN REMAINS - Weeding Out The Thorns 02:37 169.INEVITABLE END - The Severed Inception 04:04 170.JOEL GRIND - The Invisible Landscape 02:12 171.JUCIFER - Blackpowder 02:16 172.KARABOUDJAN - Den Svarta Ön 07:32 173.KILL THE CLIENT - Vicious Slaughter 01:06 174.KINGDOM OF SORROW - Enlightened To Extinction 03:47 175.KRIEG - CIRCLE OF GUILT 05:20 176.LENG TCH'E - The Fist of the Leng Tch'e 01:50 177.LIBERTEER - Build No System 01:34 178.LOOKING FOR AN ANSWER - Tapias De Cementerio 02:07 179.LORD DYING - POISONED ALTARS 03:47 180.LULL - Moment 1 01:08 181.MAGRUDERGRIND - Sacrificial Hire 01:32 182.MAN MUST DIE - Kill It Skin It Wear It 04:18 183.MANTAS - Evil Dead (Death By Metal Demo) 03:22 184.MERZBOW - Woodpecker No. 1 06:43 185.MINDROT - Anguish 07:11 186.MINSK - Within And Without 07:57 187.MORGION - The Serpentine Scrolls 10:33 188.MORTA SKULD - Sacrificial Rite 03:26 189.MOSE GIGANTICUS - The Left Path 04:13 190.MUMAKIL - Brothers in Slavery 01:20 191.MURDER CONSTRUCT - Compelled by Mediocrity 02:44 192.N2K2 - Mourning 03:54 193.NOISEAR - Inevitable Extinction 01:00 194.NUM SKULL - Ritually Abused 04:27 195.NUX VOMICA - Sanity Is For The Passive 12:40 196.OBLITERATION - Goat Skull Crown 04:40 197.OPPROBRIUM - Voices From The Grave 03:23 198.ORIGIN - Finite 03:08 199.PAN.THY.MONIUM - The Battle Of Geeheeb 11:55 200.PENTAGRAM - Forever My Queen 02:25 201.PHOBIA - Rehashed 01:05 202.POISON BLOOD - The Scourge and the Gestalt 03:40 203.PRIMATE - Draw Back A Stump 01:26 204.PUTRID PILE - The Satisfying Dead 02:50 205.PYRRHON - Balkanized 04:46 206.RABBITS - A Tale Of Tales 04:44 207.RAZOR - Hypertension 03:19 208.REGURGITATE - Putrid Serenity 01:44 209.ROTTEN SOUND - Superior 01:28 210.RUMPELSTILTSKIN GRINDER - Grab a Shovel (We've Got Bodies to Bury) 04:51 211.SATAN'S SATYRS - Succubus 03:40 212.SAYYADINA - Their Control 01:04 213.SCOTT HULL - Il funerale di Bonnie 03:47 214.SACRILEGE - Shadow From Mordor 04:50 215.SERPENTINE PATH - Essence Of Heresy 03:47 216.SOILENT GREEN - It Was Just An Accident 04:12 217.SPAWN OF POSSESSION - Apparition 08:24 218.STEVE MOORE - It's Complicated 02:41 219.SUBARACHNOID SPACE - A 09:16 220.TERMINAL SOUND SYSTEM - Silt 06:43 221.THE COUNTY MEDICAL EXAMINERS - Morgagnic Anatomics 04:14 222.THE END - Throwing Stones 03:29 223.THE GREAT TYRANT - Closing In 07:42 224.THE HIGH CONFESSIONS - Chlorine And Crystal 09:35 225.TITAN - Wooded Altar Beyond The Wander 08:00 226.TOMBS - Merrimack 03:56 227.TRIAL OF THE BOW - Father of the Flower 04:07 228.TRIBES OF NEUROT - Primordial Uncarved Block 06:24 229.ULCERATE - ABROGATION 05:50 230.ULTRAMANTIS BLACK - Prescription Culture 01:04 231.UNKIND - Vihan Lapset 02:45 232.UPHILL BATTLE - Ripped Off Face 03:29 233.VVEREVVOLF GREHV - Audio Processor 04:45 234.VIDNA OBMANA - The Insane Brightness 05:33 235.VIRAL LOAD - Methlab Machete Massacre 03:07 236.VOIVOD - God Phones 05:07 237.WEAPON - Vanguard Of The Morning Star 04:19 238.WOLVSERPENT - Within the Light of Fire 16:24 239.BASTARD NOISE, SICKNESS - Death's Door 16:09 240.PSYWARFARE - Au Regal Des Voraces 20:02 241.THE SOUL REBELLION ORCHESTRA - DOLEMITE 03:01

#mastodon #red fang #obituary #dying fetus #death #pig destroyer #nile #suffocation #baroness #full of hell #gatecreeper #exhumed #revocation #gruesome #toxic holocaust #abysmal dawn #some favs

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sylvanfreckles · 3 years

Text

Goodbye (FebuWhump 24)

Fandom: The Witcher (Netflix series) Summary: In his anger, Geralt lashes out at the one person who's always been by his side. This time, however, Jaskier isn't taking it.

(alternate scene from s01e01: Rare Species. You know the one.)

* * *

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!”

The hurtful words out of his mouth, Geralt spun away. Yennefer's rejection tore at him, like the piece of his soul that was bound to hers was a deep, bleeding gash. He wanted—needed—to be alone with his thoughts.

“No.”

Geralt whirled back, ready to let fly again, but found himself pinned in place by the unsettling coldness in the bard's eyes. “Jaskier,” he warned.

“You can shut up and listen for once,” Jaskier replied. He stormed into Geralt's space and jabbed a finger into his chest to emphasize his point.

It was unexpected...like being savaged by a rabbit.

“I have done nothing but sing your praises, quiet literally, for the last ten years. I've let you bully and berate me because that was your way, but I'm done.

“All I ever wanted from you was your friendship. I never asked for a share of your coin or a scrap of food from your plate. I asked for your protection in Cintra, yes, but never again after that and do you know why?

“Because you left me there. You stormed out once you realized Pavetta was pregnant and left me behind. And between your departure and your dimwitted attempt at witticism a few of the queen's supporters decided it had been my fault.”

Geralt found himself taking a step back as Jaskier pressed his point. He held his hands up, palms outward. “I didn't know,” he tried to explain.

“No, you didn't,” Jaskier spat bitterly. “You didn't question why it took weeks to catch up with you, or why I didn't take any of the invitations to play at court for months. You didn't so much as wonder why I stopped pestering you to come to Oxenfurt with me, or to go to a festival I'd been invited to play at. For god's sake, Geralt, I stopped asking you to stay at the tavern to hear me play! And do you know why?”

Jaskier's finger jabbed into Geralt's sternum, nearly hard enough to bruise. “Because of you. Because you've blundered into every situation and made things worse for yourself and then taken it out on those around you, which usually meant me. You made that wish on the Djinn, not me. Hell's teeth, your first wish nearly killed me and I never blamed you! Or did you think I wished myself mute, hmm?

“You asked for the Law of Surprise. Calanthe had the wealth of her kingdom at hand and you decided to be sardonic, knowing full well the risks of what you were asking. So if I'm the one holding the shovel, my friend, it is only because you're the one with the bucket!”

The bard whirled away, arms folded tightly across his chest, every line of his body quivering with emotion. “Since you want me off your hands so badly, I'll leave. Goodbye, Geralt.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt took a step forward but faltered. He wanted to deny his friend's words, but couldn't quite get the words to line up in his mind. Was it all true? “Wait.”

Jaskier looked back over his shoulder, and just for a moment Geralt thought he saw something in the bard's eyes soften before that bright blue gaze was cold as steel again. “I'll see you around.”

* * *

(I hate writing emotional conflict, so if you don’t think this is whumpy enough please consider the toll it took on me! I just need everyone to be friends!)

#febuwhump #febuwhumpalt06 #don't try to pin this on me #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #emotional hurt #angst #episode s01e06 Rare Species #jaskier stands up for himself

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rwmhunt · 3 years

Text

Leviticus, Chapter 25

1. It is fair to say that a poet Doesn't know their audience, When after 3000 years, a poet Doesn't know their audience. And here we've struck against the base Of our own Biblical Mount Sinai, where God, inside of the mountain, Could be locked therein for ever, yet, From an ocean of unconsciousness, hath he Up and telt this 'bunch of stuff' unto Moses-

2. Promises, promises, lo, My sabbaths; remember them? To summarize- whence Heading out of Exodus, Toward the underground city of Fuckinghell, God continues to remind the Israelites, How it were he who has them here, At assay in an escape of Egypt, As they go totalitaring across a plain, The which of is hardly considered In their headlong rush to go slow.

3. Six years sowing of land That you havn't got yet; So god gets Moses to Shovel it into the frontal lobe, Repeating things unto his pals, So sets off an imflammatory cascade, The old Israelites; a retinue, A ruptcy, @chemical riot, And that bunch of other stuff, You know this, but I'm reminding.

4. A seventh is a sabbath year- A sour, sownless, Pruneless kind of a year, You see it here, for Books are about power And bitter in at least two obvious ways- They first reflect the writer’s yearn For the acquisition of it, And then the mimic, With his fangled state therein, Of playing it.

5. Like most of us who are in this, Moses don’t have alot of power And less need to publish the fact- But speaketh of his learned scree- 'You write wrongly glib and varicose; aye, Where such be the matters I chose; As predisposed to distraction bade" He tries, talking withdrawl, In matters of affect- 'Your sentinels have rafted georgic, Whilest the staid remainder are discovered as wizened, and Departing from the liturgy, though heretical, You largely eschew the regular criticisms leveed agin the book.' But no, I didn't understand where this is coming from; to iterate, sometimes It's only a miracle that a meaning shouldst fall out of anything we find to say at all. Then, no gather; give solemn leave for the land Whence voice-bearers dwelt in rest, Yet as you read this, You are entering the prism of My power fantasy, And as I told you, you know this; So the dogmae live loudly in you. Woof.'

6. Connecting all these sentences, It becomes difficult- for thee, As we carry on recounting, As for thy servant, thence, for thy maid, For thy hired hand and for the settler Who, by thy side, sojourns amongst y'all; Where unto, to place the implied “because”? For lo, Power is versatile like that, And says things that send a spider sense a-creeping- So the sabbath of the land shall fall from thy alms as thy alimony, let Words be tools for regulating bodies, And say things that send a spider sense a-creeping-

7. Twill be a meat-based year For living on thy laurels with- A trope within a spectrum of abusive behaviours Alleged against the rhyzome Are scrutinising the system, where The fad prov'd trite, so I bade glib, Lo! Then terse, or droll, the dearth, I, gauche, give, both brash and stout, That it be I that is trite as it was glib For, wersh, I am not done with it- The rhyzome.

8. Muster seven sabbaths unto thee, Seven sevens be four and nine, see? From here to here, horizontally, The complete ribosomal pattern hath Codage for associative amino permutations, As universally preserved in the life taxa of all Babel, where the such displaces a lot of linear ideas, and, Lo fate, hallowed, Where hallowed is to be, For I warned thee; Go then, living as the rhyzome.

9. And make proclamation with the blast of the horn, For tis the day that it was once, hence, they Differ only in terms of the number of variables present, The coding of existing relations between the variables, And with regard to the presence or absence of an 'eigendynamic', Thus, can therefore be distinguished thither, As according to complexity, Based on these individual characteristics- As was once so it is differently, lo- Tis Yplangenday, and living is the rhyzome.

10. Round the ordinal up to L and proclaim liberty The bell, so thither, you have time's jubilee, Then let there be untethered utter manumission And flights of immigrant fantasy To whence-so-ever they think to have come. And breathless, Leviticus hath inferred That he was working unto A duel purpose- Firstly, his own double, As for control- To take the world and limit it, Or, extend it, unto his own end; And the other is to commune With the old world, the denied world, The general world; and to influence it, After his own.

11. So, la-la, be jubilee, As wild, As heady as happy can once a life, Or twice with once a memory of the other- And the pneuma of animula blows among the manna A numina, where the lord is the longest polymer chain.

12. So it is; then, Go eat the increase out of the field. But here are we levered; For it might be seen that there is a division second That can be put as of two spheres of imagination- Where firstly, there is that which is unbeknownst unto the beholder, and then also that which is consciously constructed, And yet, there is also the kingdom that lieth between, Which is a land of disconcerting paranoia and deviance, And where we must not lay with pneuma, nor numina As among the manna in the morning.

13. Yet lo, There's no point talking about it Unless you can talk about it; unless- Unless you can create enough updraft anyway; Lo! Then talk about it if you can't And I shall listen for what isn't there And look elsewhere for kennings after, And build about your unsaid vestige A most pious desire to expression; That which might uphold my feeling; No, there's no point talking about it Unless you can talk about it.

14. Barter or borrow and, For one damned year, just Don't get deceitful or try to get one over. Blindsided by the partisan nature of corporate consensus That I saw distort through the Furore Mirrors; There are many hands here, unto mine eyes, But, I don't trust the self who works emotional metaphor, So I won't continue to what I'm talking about.

15. Carry on trading way beyond, It's the local TA. Thus resides in per kilowatt hour, But what are we burning? Outside- I think it's a diesel generator; I hear it rumbling through my days Kept in the playground The fumes form long polymers, Amid the upper atmosphere, Clade with agricultural chemicals, They make headway Amidst our every organ; So be our dearest sacrifice.

16. And the market shall rise and fall With the arbitrary number of years, And whence far enough away, Return to your sarcky disposition- So what are we burning? In the tent, There's a wood burner, but, Really, detritus; Mose never minded, So any old when we run short, Mostly plastic bags; Leviticus has a fit When the smoke's building up, Talks about thousands of parts Per million.

17. To be fair, be fair, be fearful, Still me, remember? There was a grate, clarted up, That took of an outflow as from the tent, Of whatever swarf got sluiced, Unto wherever it went; the rest Were ushered up and borne out- So Terpsichore, laden with ashes, Went abroad one day, far enough That the gall and dust would not Be thought as being that of the tabernacle, Whence, dispensed, ashes and Hunks made boon to the earth's Mutable constant.

18. But the bible's broke and lost with the river That flow in serial and, as sevred, the chronicalers gone. Its belief's a decree you shall not leave me among, Nor make its fuzzy undercurent wash, Wherefore, the doing of statutes, The keeping of ordinances as them too; Though I concider, I cannot.

19. Land's a woman that yields So eat and dwell secluded therein. Love is not a symptom of time, Power is- time takes power, takes time. And you implicitly know this, so Don't think about it. Good girl Jade, who be it, That dwell in the land As declare of it a safe space?

20. And if you should be so bold as to wonder What to eat the year there's nothing, Know, that I'm not in a good mood today, Well yeah, you can say that again, so I said I'm not in a good mood today; As in; best not to press me on it, and Yeah, I heard you the first time.

21. Then sat in our suffering, Stuck in this wilderness, Black is the offering; No good for nothing, this, Left with our echo as Cut from our people. Lo, but, I'll give you a bumper crop From the previous year, and Lo! You're massive, gamesmaster. Ok, so, no worries, bonanza time; Brother, I never steer you wrong.

22. And damn it, Keep at the old store, Through the eighth, All the way into the ninth, Til your ship comes in; O Stop collapsing; Well done, men. It is not wise, it is quite unmeasured, to bait divinity With common hands, to scale Sinai, wild at heart, While sporting ultimatums of, Forgive me lord, Or I shall sin and the like- I said bring me the head of Martin Elginbrod.

23. And the land shall not be sold in perpetuity; For the land is Mine; as ye be strangers and settlers unto Me. So his own words, official words and the words of his advocates Hath set off an imflamatory cascade across hours of solid crowds. But not feeling seriously affected by the articles braught against it, He here found some unexpected allies among the Aaronide, Who, on hearing what he was proposing, Got on the blower to Moses too, and the results May be found between the leaves- as With the vertiginous chicanery they built A plutocratic sanctum of the unthinking overvue And with the allowance of themselves there to continue, Undeposed.

24. And lo, the land of our possession, Shall grant a redemption for the land itself, - So then, young people, said Tokata Iron Eyes, - I feel like we have eachother's future back; This is such a third fire that might save of us all. It won't ofcourse, but it's good to try; ...Shall granteth of us our memories; Let it be said that I so arose...

25. O forgotten brother, How came ye come so waxen poor As to prowleth these leaves, Having pawneth'd off of your possession, With I, as thy kinsman, that is next here unto thee, and Who hath come to redeem thee thy birthright Which ye hath verily, venally squandered? - Lo, for it is that I've been inside, for that I started fires; As I don't know what was wrong with me; I won’t be buccaneering with people’s lives any more, for I've come to agree 'That man should solve every problem that it hath the wit to so recognise.' And Mose rose while yet he held a look as in his eye.

26. For if a man hath no one to so redeem it, and he be waxen rich And findeth of sufficient wit to himself of it redeem; but 'You're talking into a vacuum about an unknown, So it's unlikely to feel definite.' Would you be the vacuum? 'Yes; for that I would, And yet, I am not what I meant- I mean the bit of your mind that doesn't know.'

27. Let him count the years, And restore the overplus, And get him out of hock, By the strange effect of the interaction That ends with the death of an animal; The flicker of even a spider drain, if There was an action to attain the weird, Folding-in unto an unknown metaphysical, As to return to in the everyday, and then, After a while, a bestial satiation, then, Ritual slaughter be your go-to profession- So make thyself mint.

28. And if it don't work out, well Jubilee, and all shall be returned, For that's the thing- if Fate needst me to, It could put me places No questions asked. And the thing with him, And the thing about such an interpretation As for him, is that it shouldst be of one's own- That it wasn’t wrong of Words but rather, that to Interpret was of a fault, And the problem is with your audacity in feeling uncomfortable, But, alas, tis Jubilee, so all of this is as a bridge under the water.

29 . Vicarious is my favourite word, said Leviticus, - The closest living thing to magic; Words themselves are a kind of vicariousness; And he drifted into another republic. So to the ease or otherwise of obtaining wall, if Erotion could walk by herself; it was difficult. Redeem your house for a year In a city, at zero percent and no questions- Always fair and square, aren't they? The begetting of a room advise Gleaned from passing strangers, Jade, why'd you hide your head?

30. And walled cities are a surety in Jubilee, and their tide go not out in perpetuity. There was a guy who used to draw his dreams, Because he believed them to be previsions For a future. He'd go with his opus to the local bank To have it date stamped in a photograph He'd get taken there, beneath the calendar clock. They were, at best, inconclusive, while he wouldst have Lived thither, as among his creations; - I don't know if there's a structural system in the universe; If i am a fractal of greater or lessers in a relative manner.

31. But should I find a rock Who believed a lampost to be a god, Then, verily should I be impressed with that rock; And daresay wouldst I subscribe Unto a new-found regard For the lampost to boot; so aye, All things can be called relative, By which, if you havn't a wall, You're reckoned with the field, And bailiff time be Jubilee; Now, take this learned decree hence, And be away from my townhouse.

32. I keep telling you- I don't have a favourite, And I don't think you believe me, So I keep telling you that I don't have a favourite, But if I did, it would be you, Though I treat you like shit. Oh, but you, here you can appropriate thus- Make manifest destiny through city or plain, And do not swerve for the biome in the rhyzome; That you havn't a head for mandelbrot sets.

33. It's getting technical, and tainted; Lo, forthwith, the rhyzome acknowledges That these claims about the claimants Be unclaimed, And we retract and withdraw the clause And undertake not to make repeat of them, And that means being open, Transparent and respecting The decisions made in this tent, By strangers in secret.

34. So in our submission, when one looks At our learned judge’s direviction, Freedom is an interface, A phantasmic discrepancy- You are doing as you're impelled to do, And you shalln't believe it so, And don't go selling off land.

35. Let anima be the trick That creates the illusion of life, And also that by which To behold it. And if thy brother be waxen without, And his means fall in with thee; Then thou shalt uphold him: As a stranger and a settler, So shall he live among thee. See? All's equal. And by this drystane dyke he Mopeth that fate shouldst be A fickle star, And got on, Uninterested in the plain.

36. Take thou No interest of him either, Ask not - 'Why your god?' Answer not - 'Because it's yours,' Nor - 'And how do you feel The palace of swords wouldst heareth you speak Your truth today?'. Yet there be, still, Within the arc- A falling.

37. Give him no cash Nor victuals against profit; Let him tarry and know Your god is yours alone; Is interstical and Is cut off from all other gods.

38. Else, in thy virtue, how much virtue, Meaneth you your virtue to signal? Me? I saved you, got you this place You havn't got yet; likewise, see? Manifest Destiny fell among the rationale Which led us out of Egypt in the promises, We can but carry it upon our bondsfolk.

39. And here doth he speake Of his mind As alike a torture chamber that hath Gone about something so insane As to totally overwhelm background processors; Thence, pressed into abandon, and A resultant neglect unto the congregation. Each layer, a further latent lexical signifier, And a broader drain on bios, all Ultimately, of it's own derivation, so, You might as well just assume, Where the real answer Is very close To the wrong answer.

40. The book, behoven As logistical playground, Finally spoke its silence, So I take this cardboard box for Some kind of underwater spaceform, As early evidence of animal oblation At the end of the copper age, As serve ye so until Jubilee. Don't be angry with me.

41.Lo, could I do it again And bury the text A full five times deeper yet, Then go out, to my own, And unto, such paternal possession Rest with him and ‘Hmm,' He’d say. - I’ll learn Hebrew, why not?’ and then, -'But I only know of the letters yet.'

42. My servants, as I so rescued ye, So shall ye not be drawn back to slavery Through the study of the methods of history (Historiography) Or the study of historical persons (Historicity) Where, the first few characters are my laws (Halakha) For how to make of a sacrifice, (Qorban) That a standard historical practice, (Ordinal propriety) Differentiating between what happened And what was hearsay is evinced essential, Lo, for as to a poetical artist, the difference is Negligible stroke incommodious, (Unwelcome) and, as Anytime was closer to history than this one, What do you know?

43. Let not some pious forgery Rule o'er your own with a rigor, But fear such a god who, unreasoned, Would teach the people How to eat right and be clean- Denying the biome is within the rhyzome, For, tis naught but an intolerable Bit of shuffling and roguery In the Jerusalem game of the ‘curios. Whence, various colonial archaeologists Would espouse of an erasure That it goes without saying And is thus worth pointing out- Where the particles of rust Were once elementally a part Of the thing which you are oiling, The particles of rust Were once elementally a part Of the thing which you are oiling.

44. Thus, reality, patterned, Might be applied unto, Whereon the actual engaged Behaviour hath gone and is lost; So take the over-arcing Frame, and know, Thither, it is a recreation, And, probably wrong. Then hold for thy merrye bondsmen and bonnymaidswomen, As of whom thou mayest have gained a fancy hereunto; From the nations that are round about thee, Them, shall ye buy of, that they be thy merrye bondmen and maids.

45. Lo, where each of the laws are windows Into the day of their inception, tis Hard to avoid seeing ancient archetypes at work, for- Who shouldst create a law Where there is no need for a law? Moreover, of the children of the strangers That do sojourn amongst you, Go get 'em cheap; tis my land, so your land, Tis usufruct thither, with they as thy possession.

46. And ye may make these folks into hand-me-downs: For them may ye forever take up as your bondsmen and merrymaids; But ever over your brethren, the children of Morningside, Shall ye not rule, as one over another, as with rigor. I'm not seeing the symmetry of central planning here; But lo, for in the game of one-upmanship Thus bade between the Morlocks and Moses; I'd give it to the Olmecs, Then return it to the virus. For the rest, Leviticus decryeth more fraff On how to pink the codes of holiness with examples, So, still I'm rerecounting-

47. In Exodus, God telt Mose how to build the tabernacle As a tent of meaning, Then it was that Leviticus got involved with God's teaching, As Mose blustered about over the lot and set forth his sacrifice From the land over which he cared not a jot, But to extend the part that is virgin and thus, Easily burned, as where, Maybe you left thinking Such be an example of how to priestlilly keep of your offerings, But we're still here, Positing queries to the tabernacle, Of the ways to behave in an uprightly if convoluted manner; And what am I going to do with this story Of a fellow who did all these wonderful things, Sweet hermit, who was a lion,

48. So let it be said, that Moses sacrifices Aaron to God: Leviticus doesn't remember it like that, But this's what is written, thus, will it be brought to happen. And should a strange settler do as you'd do, But to an offshoot of the rhyzome, then Redeem him damn it, you be a branch and brethren; I'm not spilling of what that means. But, Note well what he tells that isn't of story, For, as being without the narrative, So becometh it boring; Except where it's left, Both latent and loaded, With anecdote of sin or else, Suggestion of a fearful violation, As so be set to go off, though not Suchwise, as if left only unto itself- For there be the dispersal of power.

49. And lo, you can ever redeem of yourself with a flip, For poetry is forced, Forced as a rhubarb That I'd rather have, But, de gustibus, no, You shall not take My heart out To dine.

50. And that I shouldn't choose to be The appropriating, racially charged, Misanthrope that I am; which, By dint of a social education, I know, By the pointing out, I'm ok to carry it on, So giveth unto myself the blank slate- As I'm nearly finished anyway.

51. Some reckoning of years tallied by the sevens, As if it, you know; So as not to give him the pleasure... And if that doesn't work, Mathematically, put a fix in. As levity is a sacrifice That relegates the ur-text, So you will understand me; I pretend not To be the inventor Of anything;

But laughter is not so bad.

52. Lo. the corollary- - If I didn't write all this, Then somebody else would, I read, as I read back across it, And my eyes closed, And my head rolled. I've got to stop it.

53. Here watch the usurpation of another, Distastefully, and to yourself. - Sir, you keep your contempt On a high simmer Throughout your every engagement, And turn it up further Wherever you feel opportunity to do so, Whether it should be used thus or else let pass- And done so as to besmirch the other, all because You've the competitive streak that must Be made manifest among such others equally; First to sate, then, take beyond.

54. Otherwise, Jubilee, Else it is up with me on all sides. So it was with Leviticus, Who never said he were a poet, Only that his dreams Meant more to him Than they realistically Should have, and Though he drempt in such a way That he never thought he knew As to where he was, Thus it was always insubstantial, Yet such needst be enough; And that, atleast, he thought he knew.

55. Then find a man Who speaketh of people By their purpose, Himself as his own singer; Whose openness to wisdom Left him always Half an idiot, Where QED is our bible, Where holy might only Fall down to one's discretion, And use its fatal nature To activate the future, as I told you this already. Tis done.

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archangelgabriellives · 4 years

Note

Gabe x reader: Reader complains that her life is boring, so Gabe decides to take her on a trip. To the Jurassic aera. Bonus points if they ride on a triceratops. Or to the medieval, in the middle of a battle, in full armor. Gabe would protect her of course.

Look, I know this and a few other of your prompts have been sitting in my inbox, but I finally finished this one. I like the fun tone I got here. Hope you like it!

“Oh my god, Gabriel. I’m so booored!”

Your voice was muffled, face pressed deep into the cushions of the ratty couch in Dean’s man cave. To say it’s been slow in the monster hunting business would be an understatement. It feels like forever since you’ve left the bunker for anything other than a food run.

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” Gabriel questioned lightly, ripping a page from the TV guide to throw it at you from the armchair across the room. You felt the paper ball land on your back, jostling the pile of paper balls that had landed there before and sending a few others tumbling to the floor.

“Aren’t you an archangel?” You turned your head, batting away another paper ball he tossed at you. “Can’t you, like, snap up anything you want? Take me on a trip or something.”

Gabriel laughed at your pouty face. “Demanding little minx, aren’t you?”

“You know you love it,” you snarked back.

Through his full laughter was a snap of his fingers, and suddenly the couch underneath you vanished. Long grass softened the blow of your landing, and the warm sun on your back kept your annoyance for your archangel at bay. You stretched out comically, rolling over to your back and crossing your arms behind your head.

“Yes,” you grinned lazily, “this is what I’m talkin’ about.”

“Don’t get too comfy, sugar,” Gabriel smiled as his shadow fell over you. “Plenty more to do today then get ants down your back.”

Gabriel outstretched his hand to you and you took it so he could haul you off the ground. With a gentle push to his shoulder to turn him around, you leaped onto Gabriel’s back, legs and arms wrapping around the archangel.

“Onward, steed!” you crowed, landing a quick kiss to Gabriel’s cheek.

“Your wish is my command.”

After a short walk over a few picturesque foot hills, the pointed tops of fabric tents came into view. The sound of flags blowing in the summer breeze filled the air, and as Gabriel cleared the last hill, the small tent camp was fully revealed. The valley was spotted with deep reds and mossy greens of the canvas tents, and people wandered everywhere. You marveled at the scene as Gabriel walked you closer.

“Moondoor?” you read as you passed under the banner that welcomed you into the main circle. “Oh! Did we go back in time!!” The medieval dress of the villagers sent your excitement into high gear, and you could only clutch at Gabriel’s shoulders with elation.

“Hardly,” came a voice on the right, a redheaded woman striding over, a sword at her side and the moon insignia displayed brightly on her leather vest. “We only time travel every other weekend here.”

“Charlie!” Gabriel called as he felt you sink dejectedly on his back. He playfully slapped your thigh, letting you know he was going to let you down. With a deeply disappointed groan you slipped off Gabriel’s back, obviously sulking as you stood next to your archangel. “Still keeping your underlings in check, I see.”

“Hey, I look good in a crown,” Charlie declared with a smile.

Gabriel pulled her into a hug, “Good to see you again, Charles.” He was rewarded with a slap to the back of the head for his troubles. You raised an eyebrow at that, this girl had some balls to slap a freakin’ archangel like that. “This is Y/N,” Gabriel said as he threw an arm across your shoulders, tugging you closer and kissing your temple. Maybe he could feel the jealousy rolling off you and wanted to nip that in the bud. “Love of my life, right here.”

“Geez, get a room, you two,” Charlie laughed as she held out her hand to you. “Charlie Bradbury. Queen of Moondoor and all around geek. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Y/N,” you said as you shook Charlie’s hand. You got the feeling that this woman was good, that she was a friend, and with Gabriel shoveling affection towards you, any resentment you felt melted with Charlie’s smile beaming at you.

The three of you walked for a bit, Charlie showing off Moondoor. You could tell she was so proud of her ‘kingdom’, and even though Gabriel had only taken you to Michigan and not the distant past, this was still an amazing trip.

You had been in mock battles, eaten delicious food made over a fire, had an impromptu make out session hidden in the trees with Gabriel. All in all it was turning out to be a pretty perfect day.

But there is always some asshole that has to ruin it for you.

Standing together in a clearing, you, Gabriel and Charlie were talking about nothing. A group dressed in plain tunics and trousers were walking by. None of you were really paying attention to them when-

SLAP!!

Gabriel jumped, the whack to his ass throwing him for a bit of a loop.

“Joshua!” Charlie snarled at the man that had walked by. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Joshua smirked as he turned back to the three of you, but before he could speak, you stepped up in front of Gabriel, a look of fury burning in your eyes.

“Do you know who you just touched? That’s my boyfriend!”

Gabriel smirked behind you, a snap of his fingers and your simple period outfit became a full battle regalia, a shield hanging on your arm and a very real looking sword in the other. “You get ‘em, baby,” the archangel cackled, massaging your shoulders as he locked his own fierce gaze on Joshua, who was now understandably shaking in his leather boots.

Joshua looked to Charlie, hoping for some support, but he wouldn’t find it in his queen.

“You deserve this, Josh,” Charlie mused. “And when Y/N is finished with you, I never wanna see you here again. You earned yourself a lifetime ban from Moondoor,” she added, then looked back to you. “He’s all yours.”

You raised your sword, advancing on your prey. “I’ll teach you to touch anyone in that way.” The tip of your blade rested under Joshua’s chin, and he swallowed fearfully.

“N-No,” he whimpered, “I- I get it. I won’t.”

“You better. ‘Cause I have ways of seeing things, and I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

Joshua’s gaze jumped to Gabriel, and the archangel pointed two fingers at his eyes and then at Joshua in the international symbol for I’m watching you. He jolted on the spot, and the fear in his eyes grew as he looked back to you.

“Now get the hell out of here before I split you down the middle and leave you for the coyotes.”

Joshua turned on his heels immediately, running off and never looking back.

“My hero,” Gabriel swooned dramatically as he draped himself on your back, hugging you and kissing your cheek.

“Mmm” you hummed, the adrenaline cooling off in your veins, “I’ll always defend your honor, sugar lips.”

Gabriel laughed, reaching around to twist you in his grip, pulling you close and kissing you passionately.

Next to you, you heard Charlie groan. “Just get a room already.”

Gabriel x Reader tags

@nobodys-baby-now @booknerd1324 @tvshowobsessedhuman @thewhiterabbit42 @hankypranky @feelmyroarrrr @loch-ness-moron

Everything tags

@doctor-zyre @ourloveisforthelovely @authoressskr @superwhoavengelocketc-blog @mscrazycatbitch @emmii4 @redberrysweets @space-time-paradox @tgpanther @anxietywontmakethewordsgo @I4life @l4life @acarpouschimerical @warlockwriter @geekymagicalpotato @mir567 @azlinh @justa-crayon @turkeycleverness @shaylybaby2032

#gabriel x reader #no gender reader #fluff #defending gabriels honor

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crowsent · 4 years

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👶,⭐,💘, and💻. Love you!!

thank you for ask anon! writer ask game is here if yall wanna send in something. still taking asks for these btw

👶- advice for new writers =

yall this is hella fucking generic but PRACTISE. theres a reason almost literally every writer on tumblr gives the advise of “practise practise practise” and that reason is it works. practise doesnt mean ‘oh just write bc youll automatically get better over time’ it means ‘write bc if you dont, you wont figure out what you need to improve.’ did yall know that i literally had no sentence variation in the past? i started every sentence with [character name] or [character pronoun] and i didnt realise until i was 15/16 and i only realised bc i started writing a lot.

i think there’s a fear of failure with new writers. there’s this lingering doubt of “what if its not good?” and boy howdy i will answer that question right fucking now. it wont be good. when i compare my current work to my earlier work, my earlier work sucked fucking shit. i spelled soldier with a fucking ‘j’ and i had no idea what the hell a point of view was. and thats okay. whoever tells you that youre going to perfect writing is a fucking liar. there is no perfecting writing. 20 years from now, imma look at the writing from today and im gonna think it sucks shit. writing is a process. its a craft. you get better and better over time and the way you get better is by experimenting w different styles, different genres, different ways of writing.

and the only way you can experiment and improve is through practise. in video games, especially rpgs (which are my favourite kind of video games), you struggle in the early game. youre at a low level, you dont have good equipment, you have a hard time moving to the next area. but the only way you progress is by grinding, gaining levels, and getting stronger. same w writing. if youre a level 1 writer, just starting out, no idea what to do, just experiment. fuck around a bit. write crackships, write rarepairs, write niche self-indulgent reader/character fics. at the end of the day, you should write for yourself. its good and cool if other people like your stuff and validate all your hard work, but at the end of the day, the one who should enjoy your writing the most is yourself.

you WILL mess up and you WILL struggle, but thats the only way you can improve. i struggle with pacing the most. still do. but others might have pacing down pat and struggle instead with word choice or pov or something else. cant figure out where you need to improve if you dont write, so just practise and worry about all the fine print later

⭐️- how do you get your inspiration? =

this is definitely not universal, but i just sit on my bed, close my eyes, and meditate. cycle through all my emotions and thoughts and filter them out. then i just toss everything out the damn window. like. id just meditate for a while, focus on breathing, on experiencing the present, picture a field and a tree and myself and breathe. thoughts fly by and i let them happen but dont focus on it.

meditating gives me some semblance of emotional control bc i normally have none, and it gives me kind of this space. this safe space that only exists for me and me alone. so i use that space to let the world drift away. just me and my thoughts and sometimes, those thoughts end up being good writing ideas. but i usually meditate for a set amount of time. like 15 minutes or 30 minutes so i dont write until i finish meditating.

then when i get out of my headspace, i open up my laptop and see what i remember. thinking too hard about something causes it to muddy up. same with art. in digital art, artists flip the canvas to refresh their eyes, see if there’s anything weird or wonky about the illustration that they normally dont see bc theyve gotten used to it. flipping the canvas is like giving our eyes a jumpstart and lets us see what we could do better. in traditional art, its turning the canvas this way and that or repositioning yourself. meditating is like that. a break. a cleanse. a kind of pause where you dont think about anything and just try to process what you already have. you relax and kind of let yourself float down a river of thoughts and sometimes, a fish would jump out of that river and youd go “hey, thats a good idea. i should try that” so when you get out of the river, youre refreshed and ready to go.

same principle with showers. more ideas come to you in the shower when you dont have anything to write with bc youre not thinking about it. youre not focusing on finding inspiration or motivation so ideas naturally flow through you. you know that feeling when you want to do x then someone comes along and says “hey you should do x” and suddenly all motivation to do x leaves? same w your brain. focus too much on “i should be writing” or “i want inspiration” and its never gonna come. just let things happen. at least, thats how i do it. some people might get inspiration by reading or watching tv. everyones different so if thats not what works out for you, dont feel pressured to try my method

💘- what’s your favorite AU? Least favorite? =

magic au. specifically fantasy au set in like a pre-modern era. shows like avatar where theres all this magic and fantastical beasts and so on and so forth. semi-modern like six of crows and nevernight are great too. i want that magic to be woven into people’s lives. harry potter is okay but there’s like this separation between magic and muggle. there’s this feeling of “magic” but like as a tool. like a spoon or a gun or a shovel. i want magic au’s that are INTEGRATED with the world its set in.

like in atla, earth kingdom people have trains they move with bending while fire nation people have machines powered by heat and steam. both correspond to their bending and makes sense for the world they live in. but if your plot is like harry potter and its less worldbuilding and more action, then there’s this book series called seasons rising (read it. so good) where there’s a bunch of spells but the spells have character. the people using the spells GIVE it character and it feels much more intimate. pokemon does the whole fantasy mixed w reality better. give two trainers the exact same pokemon and by the time that pokemon reaches lvl 50, its gonna have a different moveset, different fight style, etc bc it was shaped by the world and people around it. i like harry potter but tbh it could have been so much better

for the least favourite au, it’s A/B/O i dont like the whole “omegas are only good for breeding hurr durr” and “alphas are violent and aggressive and cant control themselves around omegas” thing and it squicks me out. major squick. i read the original harry potter squick (THAT one. yeah. you know the one) and i still hate a/b/o more. i get why people like it, and there are one or two fics set in a/b/o au that i enjoy reading, but as a whole, i severely dislike a/b/o fics.

the themes are squick, the character dynamics get so messed up, and shipping dynamics (bc a/b/o fics usually have shipping) just get so blown out of proportion. there are so many a/b/o fics that turn ooc or the character interpretations radically change or something else. no hate against a/b/o fans bc yall are amazing for writing/drawing yalls au. there are things that you can only do in this setting and exploring those things can be incredibly fun for people, but for me personally, its not an au i like to visit.

💻- three works of yours that are must reads =

i. dont know what fandom youre in anon or your genre preferences. so ill just rec you one fic for a different fandom each with kind of different genres. ts masterlist is on my side @hufflepuff-deceit and regular fanfic masterlist is on my writing blog @crownonymous

(BNHA) Viper. its my first serious attempt at fanfic in YEARS and its my baby. currently has 7 chapters, i havent updated it in a while bc im hyperfocused on ts rn, but i love it to bits. its just all of my fav bnha fics crammed into one fic. quirkless kind of villain izuku with stain as a mentor as they work together to bring light to the injustices of hero society and where bakugos bullying has visible and long-lasting repercussions? sign me the fuck up. you can read it on ao3 HERE bc its not on tumblr. kind of fast-paced, has a lot more action scenes than anything else ive written. heavy plot-wise but has a lot of humour and comedy to break things up

(Kimetsu no Yaiba) I Pray To God He Hears You. not related to my other kny fic oleander which is a multichap retelling au. iptghhy is a standalone one-shot and kind of a character study on one giyuu tomioka. i love him so much. giyuu is my baby and i adore him. so of course i wrote a sad fic focusing on him. well technically, the fic focuses on giyuu AND his relationships. SPOILERS for chapters 130 and 131 of the manga. focuses mostly on giyuu and sabito, but there’s a fair bit of giyuu and tanjiro and urokodaki. you can read it HERE bc this is also not on tumblr. also deals with heavy things but more emotion-wise since it doesnt have that much of a plot. loss. grief. moving on. survivors guilt. that kind of stuff. very sad. hurt but with comfort, especially at the end.

(Sanders Sides) Logan’s Birthday Fic: Logicality. just what the title says. i wrote 5 different fics and published them all on logans bday but the logicality one received the most feedback and honestly? the cutest of the bunch. its gonna be crossposted onto ao3 but for now, you can read it HERE on my ts sideblog. theres no plot since its literally just domestic and relationship fluff. and puns. patton is in the fic, theres gonna be puns. nothing but good things and warm feelings bc logan deserves it.

thank you so much for such interesting asks anon! i enjoyed answering these. have a lovely day!

#crowsas answers #kny #bnha #sanders sides

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dailyaudiobible · 4 years

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05/10/2020 DAB Transcript

1 Samuel 8:1-9:27, John 6:22-42, Psalms 106:32-48, Proverbs 14:34-35

Today is the 10th day of May welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I am Brian it is wonderful to be here with you today as we approach and move into a shiny, sparkly new week that is out in front of us, just waiting for us to live into and tell our story with. This gift of life that is before us is…is the gift from God and we get to make of it through our choices, through our thoughts, words and deeds whatever we like of it. And we can choose to honor God in it, which is what we're choosing to do, in part, by meeting here around the Global Campfire every day and just allowing this space to exist, this safe, warm place that we have to let God's word wash into our lives. So, let's do that. We are getting to know Samuel. And, so, we’ve kind of learned his origin story, this…the story before he was even born and his mom…his mother Hanna and her prayer to God and for Samuel being raised up in Shiloh at the tabernacle and then we’ve gone through the loss of the Ark and Samuel's emergence as the final judge of Israel. And, so, we will…we will continue that story. We’re reading from the New International Version this week. First Samuel chapters 8 and 9 today.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word. And even as we begin a new week so often the things that we think about are the things that we need to do and the things we need to accomplish in the span ahead. And then, often when we think of our relationship with You, we’re wondering similar things, “what am I supposed to do to make God happy? Like, what is God requiring of me?” And thankfully, as we begin this new week that question was answered in the Gospel of John from Your own lips, Jesus. And, so we’re thankful for that. You were asked that question, “what must we do to do the work God requires?” And so often we are internally asking that, “how do we find ourselves in Your will and in Your good graces?” You answered the question, “the work of God is this: to believe in the One He has sent.” And, so, as we begin this new week, we do indeed declare that. We believe in the one God has sent. We believe that to be You, Lord Jesus. So, as we move into this week, we pray that we would become more and more like You, Christ like, Your hands and feet in this world. And we pray that Your Holy Spirit would guide and lead us into all truth. Come Holy Spirit, lead us into all truth as we open ourselves to the truth. We pray this in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website, its home base, its where you find out what’s going on around here.

So…well…here in the United States today is Mother's Day. So, I don't want to let that pass by. Happy Mother's Day mother's! It's pretty safe to say that none of us would be here without you. And, so… yeah…might be…I…I mean…a day for celebrating mothers, I don't always mention these kinds of holidays because they are commemorated at different times of the year in different countries around the world. So…but…I was thinking about my own mom today. So, yeah, lost her a couple years ago. And, so, was thinking about her, was thinking about my wife, I was thinking about all you mothers. Happy Mother's Day. It is an honor to be your sons and daughters. Thank you for bringing us into the world. Happy Mother's Day.

And then, let's see, dailyaudiobible.com is the website, and that is how you stay connected. Like, that's the portal of entry, that's…what…where you get connected. And there is a Community section there that will give you social media links and access to the Prayer Wall. And this kind of how you step in and make points of connection. So, check that out.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com. There’s a link on the homepage. Within the app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address, if you prefer the mail, is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement you can hit the Hotline button in the app, which is the little red button at the top, or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that is it for today. I'm Brian it is great to be here with you for a brand-new week I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hi DAB family this is Abba’s Joy I am just calling. I just want to say thank you to Brian and I want to lift up his family right now during this time because it’s hard, it’s challenging, and the DAB community and Brian’s readings is what’s keeping me moving forward. And I just want to say thank you to Brian and to everyone who is part of this Campfire. And I just want to shout out to Blind Tony. I haven’t heard him in a while and I just pray all is well. And Tony the truck driver, I always love hearing from him, and I believe it’s been a minute and I just pray everything is going well with you. And I’d like to just pray or share a verse for those teachers, especially this is teacher’s appreciation week and also now parents who have now become homeschool teachers, educators. It’s been challenging as a teacher myself to juggle work and family and children and sometimes we lose sight. And, so, here’s a reminder. Galatians 6:9 says, “and let us not grow weary while doing good for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart.” So, I encourage everyone to stay in the Word, walk by faith because God’s blessings and strength will be provided to us as His children. I thank you guys so very much. I love you. God bless.

Lord I just want to say thank You. Lord I just want to say thank You. Lord I just want to say thank You for everything that You’re doing in people’s lives, for everything that You’re going to do. Lord just touch everyone in the sound of my voice. Lord continue take our mind, body and soul. And Lord just do…have Your way. Lord if it is Your will Lord it shall be done. Lord continue to keep us, continue to love us, continue to do us and be us in our lives. Lord I want to say thank You for everything that You’re doing and that You have done Lord. Lord because You don’t do anything else Lord You’ve done enough. Lord and I just want to say thank You for everything that we have Jesus. Lord just touch those hospitals, touch the police, touch the nurses, touch the president, Lord just going touch everybody. And Lord this too shall come to pass Jesus. Lord You can do any and all things. And Lord I just want to say thank You and in Jesus’ name. Amen. Make sure y’all give. I love You guys.

For God so loved Elijah that He gave His one and only son Jesus, that if Elijah would believe in Jesus Elijah would not die forever but Elijah would live forever with Jesus in heaven. Hey, my little buddy Elijah, this is Kingdom Seeker Daniel from Chicago. Hey buddy. I love you man, but you know what? God loves you so much more and He is fighting for you. He is going to protect your mind, your heart, and your whole household. But don’t you worry one second, the devil will not win. You know why Elijah? Because the Bible says, greater is Jesus that lives inside of Elijah than the devil that hangs out in the world. So, you already win. You have the victory Elijah and I want you to know God is so proud of you buddy. We’re praying for you we love you and God’s got your back. You hang in there, man. God bless you buddy.

Hey everybody this is Pelham calling from Arab, actually right now I’m in Albertville Alabama, Addicted to Christ calling. I want to…it’s Cinco de Mayo and I just wanted to…I tried calling earlier and it dropped the call and apparently I wasn’t supposed to call at that time but now I’m standing in the back office in the cutting department and he said go ahead try again. So, I’m trying again. And this is still making me laugh but, Cinco de Mayo, and guess what people are going out and buying Corona’s to drink right now. So, hopefully that you know…don’t drink the Corona, don’t drink it, come on. Prodigal, I heard your call today on the show. By the way, I’m sorry to everybody because I have been very focused on myself, and I am now being told by the Holy Spirit, “hey Pelham, one of your things is to care about others. In fact, that’s your main reason why you still breathe.” So, He brings me the people I’m supposed to focus on. The girl who has the daughter who was on the streets, I think your name was Sonny. I’m…really was man attention when I was driving, and the Lord was speaking to me and I am a doofus. So, I might have your name wrong but let me talk with Prodigal. Prodigal that Glock, He wants you to see actually the Word of God. Your Glock is your sword and you are a trained assassin sent forth by the Lord to rebuke the enemy and break the chains that he’s put on his people…on the Lord’s people. There’s a time right now for us to fight to, to realize that we are sharing in His suffering only so that we can handle the glory that’s coming because the glory is coming. I don’t know if you all see it yet but if you’re suffering, guess what that means? You’re still alive, He loves you and He’s preparing you for something. Prodigal, man your call, it helped me. That shovel help me dude. I love you people…

Hi DAB family this is Rebecca Joy from Illinois calling in for the second time. It is May 5th today and I wanted to kind of touch on that something Brian said after all the verses today because he was talking about the difference the Spirit and then your thoughts and your emotions. And, my gosh, if I did not live by my thoughts and my emotions even a few years ago or even last year I…oh…geez, it’s so…so tiring. It’s so tiring. And I’m sure that people who are like me who have really bad anxiety and sometimes even falling into depression, man, it is just, it’s one of the worst things that you can feel and life because you just, it’s…it’s like you’re on a treadmill that keeps going faster and faster and you overthink things and I…I know for me I was trying to…I was trying to do better and much like Brian said, I was trying to find God in what I could feel and what I could think but every single time I didn’t think the right thing or I didn’t feel the right thing I would just…I would feel worse and worse and I would attribute that to me being a bad person and I didn’t understand what was wrong with me because if…if I was a Christian wasn’t I supposed to be getting better at this? But my middle name is Joy and I’ve learned more about what that means in the past few years. It’s taken a while for me to understand fully, but my…my gosh…if I only knew…if I only knew how much joy and love and just God in general does not count on your feelings or your thoughts about yourself. Whatever those things are, whatever you’re feeling negatively that’s not God, that’s fear, and I hope you remember that. Be blessed.

Hi Daily Audio Bible this is Mira Martha from Georgia it’s actually my second time calling in. Tonight, I wanted to call in because Cindy the flute player’s message just really pricked my heart. Lord we all are struggling right now with this COVID and the struggles that are caused by all of this and I just…Cindy I…I want to pray for You and… Lord, thank You for all You are and Your guidance. And Lord I come to You tonight just asking that You be with Cindy and comfort her and give her wisdom and give her guidance what Your plan is. It’s so hard for us to see Your plan in the midst of turmoil or __. I pray that You’ll help her find the job that that is going to help her prosper and help her spread Your Word Lord. And I also ask that You pray for that You help her find a place to live or send the right people her way to help her stay where she is, whatever Your will is Lord. But I pray that You just be there for her and comfort her and give her the guidance that only comes from…form You Lord. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.

Good morning I’ve never done this before my name it is Vincent. Hello. And I heard Cindy the flute player. The sadness in your voice reminds me of the sadness I sometimes feel in my heart. I don’t know much but what I do know is that the Lord will never leave you nor forsake you. So, I pray in agreement with you that you find your job, your home, and your way and that you keep your faith as I need to keep mine. I ask in return that this Campfire group pray that I find love in my life. And as Brian says, I love you. You people are amazing.

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spacecadetcity · 5 years

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fictober four + five.

fictober four: “i know you didn’t ask for this.” original storyline. words: 441.

vesper kept a steady pace, the sound of his pawsteps painfully loud in the quiet midnight air. every now and then she glanced back, to where a little prince shuffled after him, and her own son brought up the back. they had been travelling for several hours now, and the usually whiny prince hadn’t even complained once, and the caretaker was starting to feel that even though they were nowhere near as far away as he’d like, that they should stop and rest anyway.

“i’m tired, can we take a break?”

vesper flicked an ear at his sons voice, and when he met eels’ eyes, his son gave a subtle look towards the little prince. vesper nodded, and the party of three veered off the path, taking up space in a shallow scrape under a bush. eel and vesper both began gathering ferns and leaves to soften the ground, eel covering the pile with a blanket he pulled from his carry-bag.

“i could have helped,” the little prince mumbled as he settled in between vesper and eel. eel just lay his head down in response, but vesper nodded.

“next time, little prince. i’ll keep watch over us, please get some rest.” the little prince hesitated, but lay his head down as well, closing his eyes. the time passed swiftly, and when the prince awoke next, the moon had been swallowed by trees and the dark sky was beginning to lighten.

“i know you didn’t ask for this. to have to run around and hide me. i’m sorry,” the prince mumbled to vespers’ surprise. she hadn’t noticed the prince awaken. “if it wasn’t for me, you and eel could still be back at the kingdom-”

“little prince, there is no kingdom anymore. the guardians have fallen, and we are just as on the run as you are,” vesper replied gently, leaning her weight onto the prince. he leaned back, laying his head down on his paws once more.

“if there is no kingdom, am i still a prince?”

“would you like to be?”

“i think…” the little prince started and paused, “i think i’ve always just been the prince. i’d like a name- a little name. i don’t want to forget though,” the prince sighed, and vesper nodded. “can i take part of my old title? kespie?”

vesper laughed quietly, “that sounds awful familiar. do you like it?”

“not really,” the prince admitted, “but i’m bad with names.”

“why not take the start of both titles? a k and a p? kp, the lost little kestrel prince,” vesper suggested, and the prince looked up, wide eyed.

“that sounds perfect! i love it!”

fictober five: “i might just kiss you.” vesper + pearl. words: 670.

vesper made his way down the boardwalk, shopping bags in one hand and a paper list in the other, only half paying attention to his surroundings. enough to not walk into anyone, but not really enough to listen out for anything. she scooted around a person to avoid walking into them, but startled to a stop when they grabbed his sleeve.

“vespeeeer, i’ve been trying to get your attention!” steven said, tugging at vespers sleeve, “what are you so focused on anyway? this is like that time when you were watching us practice with pearl and-”

“hey, steven! oh, just checking my list to make sure i got everything for tonight, nothing big!” vesper cut off the boy before he could go any further, “some normal groceries and then some snacks for tonight.”

“tonight? what are you doing tonight that you need snacks for?” steven asked curiously, and vesper pointed up at the setting sky. “star-gazing. i kicked ronaldo out from the lighthouse telescope that your dad bought, and i was going to hang out there. i don’t work tomorrow, so i figured i’d just pull an allnighter.”

“oh oh! can i come? pretty please?” steven begged, and vesper laughed. she messed up his hair and shook his head no.

“sorry dude, the gems would kill me if i let you stay up all night. i gotta go finish getting ready little dude, but i’ll tell you all about it tomorrow, okay?” vesper waved goodbye to steven and started back down the boardwalk towards the buses, reading over the list again.

“god damn. fuck stairs, anyone ever heard of a fucking elevator before?” vesper complained to himself as he made it up the last few steps and out the lighthouse lantern room. dropping his bag by the telescope, she sat on the floor and stared up at the sky. luckily, beach city didn’t have very much light pollutuon, and the sky was clear enough that the night sky shone brightly. vesper sat for several minutes, just gazing upwards.

“it fucking sucks that i don’t know a single constellation or anything.” vesper said aloud after a few moments, “i probably should have brought a book or something. star-gazing for dummies.” vesper dug around in his bag, unzipping a bag of sour gummy worms and shovelling a few into her mouth and continued to star up at the stars he knew nothing about.

“some forethought probably wouldn’t have killed you,” vesper startled, nearly choking on a gummy worm before turning to see pearl stepping up the last few stairs and sitting next to him. “steven told me that you said he couldn’t stay up all night with you, and i told him you were right. growing humans need their sleep.” pearl said, gem glowing. she pulled out a folded blanket and offered to to vesper, who accepted and tucked it around himself.

“i bet you know a bunch, pearl. you should point them out to me,” vesper said, giving the gem a side grin that implied this had been his intent all along. she rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, but vesper wasn’t fooled. when it came to space, pearl was never far behind, and vesper got comfortable as she started to point out the constellations.

“....and that makes up the caligo constellation. the mythos behind that one was sadly lost when yellow diamond’s kindergartens destroyed the planet it came from.” pearl finished. as the gem had described many of the constellations she knew, the pair had slowly shifted closer, and now vesper rested his head on her and her arm was around his shoulder.

“what do you think?”

“...i think i miss kiss you..” vesper replied, sounding very sleepy, though he immediately sat up when he realized he had said that aloud. for a few moments, neither of them moved, and pearl realized she still had her arm around the humans’ shoulder. she pulled him closer, and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“maybe when you’re a little more awake.”

#taylor made this #fictober #an original story and a self-indulgent fic. perfection.

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citysicker-blog1 · 5 years

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never come back . never .

ABSTRACT PROMPTS. // accepting !

my mother’s mouth fills me / like the grave, worm-mouth, dripping flesh-mouth. here is the truth of it : all children eat of their mothers and for some, they never want to stop. flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood. her blood, given for you. her body pulled apart for you, two girls exhumed from the tree. or this : some twins consume their sisters in the womb, and if i’d been given time, i would have mine. maybe i was born with the flesh of your spine in my mouth, trying to choke you out of a life you did not deserve. eighteen years and the blood of you still pools at the bottom of my throat, drips into my lungs. eighteen years is too long to be so hungry.

this is the story you don’t want to hear : how a man and a woman came into a town that wasn’t their own because they wanted something that would be. how they took it and left, a child in a bundle of fine cotton, their hands dripping soil back to the grave-mouth, the long rotted umbilical cord. how they dunked the child in the bathwater to clean it off her until her mouth stopped bubbling; how she laughed, water-thick, when they held her up to the air.

no one told me this, but it doesn’t matter. i know more than enough.

AND MY SISTER, her body folded around the draping skin of her familiar, her feet planted, her eyes dark enough, even from this distance, to raze the earth. she speaks, her voice a metallic, unflinching thing, as though she draws her strength up from the center of the earth.

I’M SORRY, kammi.

hundreds of miles from here lies a city with a skyline like teeth, by which i mean i am the tongue that devours. hundreds of miles away and i am a woman with a matchstick smile, gasoline smile that could light up all of oil-slick new york, standing on a terrace and saying, it’s all mine, isn’t it ?

I’M SORRY i had the life you wanted. i’m sorry for banishing you the way i did.

a girl is a grave. a girl is the shovel filling the grave, the hand that holds the shovel. a girl is the hand around her own throat in the dead of night, the way the word mamma sounds above the new york roar. a girl is everything she wanted to be nailed up tight until she’s left tearing open her ribcage just to find a way to breathe.

what is a girl but the grave-soil ? what but crawling her way through dirt that no one has thought to consecrate, toward a light no one has ever told her she would want to take burning between her palms and blow out ? what but the place her county fills with every hated sin ?

and now : another girl sun-touched, soil-brushed, a family that is not her family behind her, casting no shadows. perhaps, only, because she doesn’t look down. my sister.

SORRY i couldn’t be the sister you wanted.

SORRY i let you down. but most of all, I’M SORRY ——————

my sister : thunder dripping from her shoulders, dry ice, wildfire smoke. my sister singing a song i half-recall. my sister, who backed from the tree with horror in the curves of her lips / my sister, letting the witch in.

a girl is not the knife but the gut that splits before it. how many ways can we say it : a girl is a grave, a girl is a god, a girl is / a girl. a girl is.

on her belly in the dirt, ugly spilling out, hot, onto the wet earth.

THAT YOU’VE FORCED ME TO DO WHAT’S COMING NEXT.

and she asks you back in.

she opens the doors of a meeting-house that is all yours, that has never been touched by a family that didn’t want you. and there is no world to seize, no kingdom to hold, nothing in your hand but dust, but water / water / water. she sits across the table, one finger tracing the fork prongs, the door behind you deadbolted. she has set the table with blood and you watch it pool on the earthenware. outside something is shaking, but not here. here the blood-water stretches between you. half an inch of it covers the tile, your feet sloshing in it, the water of her womb. or yours, nothing you’ve ever created brought to fruition. or the woman who held you just long enough to shape your face, to draw out the eyes and straighten the teeth. TO MAKE YOU / IN HER IMAGE.

to make your sister.

so who was the bloody-mouthed, black-haired woman in your dreams ? a mother ? or a sister with fading hair, with straight teeth and a straighter spine ? i’m sorry / i’m sorry she whispers into your flesh, into the dripping tendrils of your organs. lies, you would whisper back; lies / i don’t believe you / and i never will.

her breath warm in the crevasse she opened in the middle of you, as you cease to be anything at all. your dead eyes on hers, your fingers relaxed in the bloody earth. i am keeping this all for you, but soon she will keep it instead. i am keeping this while your breath leaves, while your soul rests in the warm space between your gut and her mouth. someone has to hold this; someone has to guide you, you poor lost girl.

#vvhitch #cannibalism /#ic tbt #long post /#ask to tag

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terraisnotonfire-blog · 5 years

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Knell Chapter 1

Knell took a moment to stretch as she got out of bed, her green skin and bulging muscles taut as she lifted her arms over her head and released a mighty yawn, bearing her short tusks. She rubbed the sleep from her bright red eyes before running a hand over her bald head. It was starting to get stubbly, she ould need to shave soon, when she got the chance. She looked over to the other bed to see it empty and her companions possessions gone. He was probably already enjoying breakfast. She took a few minutes to throw on her traveling clothes, a light brown jerkin that went down to her knees, and a pair of heavy leather boots with fur lining. She tightened the laces on her jerkin before throwing a traveling pack over her shoulder and grabbing the giant two handed maul leaning against the wall beside the door.

She arrived in the dining area to find her companion sitting at a table alone, enjoying a bowl of some kind of soup. He was a large man, some would say a behemoth. Towering several feet over the average man, he was a solid mass of nothing but muscle, draped in furs and hides. The exposed skin and its network of criss crossing scars told the story of many battles. Perhaps most note worthy was the long jagged one on his face, running down the left side, disrupting his tribal tattoos and intersecting with his eye, upon which he wore a tattered old eyepatch. His brown hair,which was pulled back in to a short ponytail, was graying, as was his braided beard. His sullen blue eyes stared at Knell as she walked in as he gestured to a full bowl of soup on the opposite side of the table he was sitting at. Knell walked over throwing off her pack and setting it and the maul against the table before sitting down.

"You, uh, you were out awfully late last night. Anything interesting?" Volfram peered up from his food long enough to raise an eyebrow before continuing to shovel food in to his maw.

Knell blushed as she rubbed her bald head. "Oh heh heh. No nothing like that. There were a couple of traveling performers here last night. They were really cool guys so I decided to hang out with one of them last night."

"I see" Volfram mused between bites.

"No, I swear. We just talked awhile. Swapped stories. Shot the shit. Ya know just--" Before she could finish her thought a pair of men burst in to the common room of the inn where they were dining. One of them looked to be ill or in pain and was being supported by the other. Knell locked her eyes on them right as they came in, after a moment of recognition, her eyes grew wide and she immediately turned her head down towards her food as the threw up the hood on her cloak. Volfram took notice of this and looked up to see what had caused her reaction. His eyes followed the pair as they exited the room,walking right past Knell as they headed out the door.

"These performers from las tnight. They by any chance a Sardonian looking man and another guy who looks like the night sky stuffed in a gaudy red and gold robe?

". . .yes." Knell didn't look up from her bowl.

"Wow Knell, I knew you could be exhausting to listen to, but I had no idea you could do that to a man just by talking."

Her head shot up, whipping her hood back in the process and revealing the deep forest green her cheeks had become. "He wasn't like that when I left, I swear. Gods,how many time do I have to tell you I'm not in to guys."

"Then why is it that I never see you with any girls.

"Girls are uh. . .hard to talk to."

Volfram froze, the spoon already halfway to his mouth. He squinted at her as he pursed his lips,reading her. After a few moments he shrugged and popped the spoonfull of breakfast soup in his mouth. "Whatever, no skin off my back." Despite the constant noise of an inn at this time of morning, a deafening silence reigned over the table for the next several minutes as they each ate their meals without looking at the other. Finally Knell broke the silence.

"So know that I'm ready to be an adventurer, what do we do first?"

"Well, I already submitted the necessary paperwork on your behalf already so need to worry about all that, you are already an official adventurer under the Angry Squid Adventuring Hall. So I figured first thing would be to head over to the hall and see if we can fill out our numbers some more. Look and see if there are any interesting jobs while we're at it."

"Anything you had in mind?

"No no. This is your show. It's your first day as a real adventurer. Which means it's gonna be up to you to pick our first quest."

"What if the new recruits don't like the job I pick?"

"We get different recruits. Don't worry it will be--" Suddenly one of the men from before,the one in red and gold robes, burst through the door again, he rushed to the back hallways where the sound of a door being thrown upon could be heard, followed a few minutes later by the sound of it slamming shut and the man charging back through the inn, this time clutching two daggers. "I feel like there is probably a story there."

Knell stared at the door that the man had just slammed behind him, lost in thought. "I hope Deimos is alright." She turned back to see Volfram staring at her once again, bemused grin on his face. "God you are such an ass. I'm outta here, see you at the Angry Squid later." Her spoon clattered as she dropped it in to her bowl. She stood up, grabbed her pack and her walking stick leaning against the table, and walked out the door, flashing her middle finger at Volfram as she left.

*****

Volfram arrived at the Angry Squid to find Knell staring intently at the quest board. He spent a few minutes at the bar, exchanging pleasantries and catching up with the gnomish barkeep Sawyer, before ordering a pint of mead and walking back over to Knell. "You find anything interesting."

"No. Its all turnip thieves and deliveries. Not a single village in peril or vip in need of protection."

Volfram took a long noisy sip from his mead. "Well that's unfortunate. Any one of note on the party board?" He strode over to the board on the opposite side of the wall, staring at it intently.

"No. They all read like someone trying to apply to work at a bank."

He scanned the board for a few moments, taking another sip. "I see what you mean. Well, its to be expected. Its only natural that the most interesting quests and people get grabbed quick. If we want a shot at grabbing either,our best bet would just be to sit around her, wait for something interesting to--"

For the third time in less than an hour, there conversation was interrupted by the strange man in the red robes bursting through the door. Both Volfram and Knell watched as he approached the bar and began frantically conversing with Sawyer, the sound of their conversation lost in the early morning din of the adventure hall. After a minute the gnome looked over to Volfram and called "Hey wolf boy, this guy says he's looking for you."

Volfram looked over to his partner,cocking an eyebrow. "Well, looks like things just got interesting."

*****

"So let's start at the beginning. How do you know my friend?" Knell steepled her arms as she propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her interlaced fingers.

Saros looked over at the large man in the corner as he twiddled his thumbs under the table nervously. "Why can't I just talk directly to him?"

Volfram looked up from the axe he was polishing. "She's my protege. Its her first day on the job so I'm letting her lead things. You don't like it, there's the door. Now, I suggest you answer my friend. Why is my name on your lips?"

Saros turned to face the orc woman in front of him, but his attention remained focused on the man in the corner of his eye. "A while back my father and I were traveling North out of the kingdom of Alfard. We stopped in a little village to perform and maybe grab a bite to eat, I think it was called Mangold." Saros watched as the muscles in Volfram's neck tensed as the grip on his axe tightened. "There was a girl there,named Erin. I helped her out with something. She said I owed her a favor and if we were ever in Innastorm and we needed help to go to the Angry Squid and ask for Volfram."

"Oh yeah, Mangold, I--" Knell was cut off by Volfram clearing his voice loudly, she looked over to see him glaring angrily. "Right. How do we know you actually met this Erin and you didn't just pull her name off of one of the plaques in here." Saros looked around the room at all the various plaques and trophies that lined the walls. There was one that read Jess the Mighty, another partially defaced one read Loramir the Wise. Another particularly large one read Volfram Dragonsbane. He turned back to the orc woman, his vision once again transfixed on Volfram.

"S-she said if I ever wanted to ruffle Volfram's feathers I could c-call him F-faolan." Saros dropped to the floor beneath the table as a hand axe went sailing through the space his shoulder had been a second ago., hitting the wall with a loud THUNK.

A voice cried out from the next room. "VOLFRAM!! RULE NUMBER ONE!"

Volfram got up from his seat and yanked the hand axe from the wall as he yelled back, "Aw stuff it you lecherous old hobbit."

"I'm a gnome, not a hobbit." The voice cried back as Volfram returned to his seat and began polishing the blade of the axe he just threw.

Knell peered under the table to find Saros still curled up in the fetal position. "Nice instincts."

"Yeah. She also told me I should duck afterwards." Saros climbed back up on to the chair and looked over to see Volfram grinning slightly. He wasn't sure whether to be more or less nervous now. Knell looked over to him as well and Volfram gave her a nod.

"The big man buys your story. So, what's this favor?"

"My father, Deimos he was attacked last night."

"Is he okay?" Knell's voice suddenly shifted from mild interest to genuine concern as her posture straightened out.

"No. He, uh. He turned to stone."

"Fuck, that's horrible. I hear its really painful. But there's really not a lot we can do to help with that. Temple of Cinna should be able to heal him. If you need help transporting him there, we can offer that, but that's not really our thing."

""He's there now. Or, the statue of him is. We got him there before he finished turning, but there was nothing they could do to stop it. They said it was both a venom and a curse and they couldn't reverse one without reversing the other."

"I'm sorry but that kind of thing is completely out of our depth as well, not really the curse removal types either."

"That's not what I want your assistance with. You see, before my father turned to stone, he asked me to retrieve his favorite knife."

"Ah I see. And where was this knife last seen.

"Impaled through the hand of the man who attacked my father." Volfram let out a bemused chuckle. "Please, this was the one thing my father asked of me before he turned to stone. But I do not know this city, I do not even know where to begin to look. Erin made it sound like you have sources of information."

Volfram got up from the large throne in the corner of the room as he sighed "Yeah, I know a guy. Let's go."

It was a busy day in Kwix's shop. Customers milled about the store examining the numerous items on display. Occasionally one would approach the counter he sat at and ask to examine one of the more impressive items he had on display behind the counter. He'd pull it down from the wall, which was often easier said than done for such a small Goblin, and tell them about all the special powers or defenses it imbued its wielder. They'd ask how much, he'd give them a price at which point they'd always hand it back acting as if it wasn't quite what they were looking for, but it was obvious that whatever they were looking for was well outside their price range. Magic items aren't something fresh off the boat adventurers can afford. And yet they always asked.

He couldn't complain too much though. Business was great. He still had plenty of mundane items to sell to the average consumer. He also did very well selling more exotics tuff, like dragon scales and chimera blood, to the wizards and artisans from the noble quarter. 10 years ago he'd been holed up in a little shack in the slums until a mysterious woman had changed his fate by selling him her magical items for a pittance. He'd turned that around and within a few shorts months he actually owned a business in the Trade District. And these days, he was one of the most preeminent place to shop in all of Innastorm. Yeah things were good. But something was missing and he wasn't quite sure what it was.

He needed something else to keep him occupied today. He called Pinkie, one of his employees over to the counter, and then headed in to the back office, closing the large wooden door behind him. He grabbed a book off of one of the shelves on the wall and tossed it up on to his desk before climbing his stepstool up into his chair where he plopped down, his head the only thing visible from the other side of the desk. He grumbled as he gave the lever on it a few pumps, someone had been sitting in his chair again. It was probably Pinkie, she was always using it without permission. Once his chair was back at the correct height, he picked up his small pair of reading glasses and with a long, slender, clawed finger, he slid them up his long hooked nose, resting the arms on his large batlike ears.

There wasn't really much higher he could climb here. He had employees handling most of his work now, hell he could hand the Keys over to Pinkie and things would still keep running.. He'd already expanded his current location as much as he could, even adding on a second story, but he had gotten to the point where his supply was outpacing demand, there just wasn't enough business to be had in this town. Thoughts of what to do now plagued his mind,distracting him from much more beneficial work he could be doing instead. He tried to focus on the ledgers. It was one of the few jobs he still handled himself. Not that he didn't trust his employees to do it. He just liked it. Something about the numbers dancing together and combining, growing ever larger in their fanciful display. He liked numbers. He understood numbers. He wished he understood magic. He looked up from the book over to the large compendium on his desk. It was open to an entry about a magic box that contained a horrifying cat mummy that did its master's bidding. He had seen one once. Carried by a Muridian no less, no doubt for the irony. He looked at it and sighed, lost in thought, he idly twiddled the blue and silver amulet that hung around his neck with his thumb and forefinger

Suddenly the sound of very heavy footsteps heading to his office returned his focus, and he stuffed the necklace beneath his shirt as he turned back to his ledgers,attempting to look busy as any good businessman should. And without a knock, the door flew open, the doorway filled with a man almost as big as the door he had just kicked open. This was intentional, it was a hard earned lesson. Kwix sighed as he made a dramatic show of setting down his fountain pen and closing his books before taking off his glasses and rubbing his temples, "Can you watch it with the doors? I'd hate to have to bill you if you got splinters in my suit,I'll have you know this suit cost me--"

"7800 gold pieces, I know."

Kwix exhaled a small sigh of frustration. "How can I help you Volfram?"

"Need info."

"Of course. What is it this time? Monsters, ancient tombs, misdeeds of nobles, ancient--"

"Daggers and poison."

"Poison huh? That's a new one. What are you needing to now?"

Volfram grunted "Just come with me."

Kwix sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes, "Ugh fine." He smiled a little once Volfram turned around. He'd been dying for an excuse to get out of this stuffy office.

Four figures gathered around the statue of Deimos. The clerics had moved him to a small prayer garden with a promise to Saros that they would look after him. It was a simple gesture truly appreciated, it was one less thing to worry about with the threat of hooligans defacing or damaging his father in some way removed from his mind.

"So uh, why didn't they just chop his arm off?" Kwix inspected the stone as he mused.

"I-I do not know. I think maybe he thought I could reverse it some how. I think he puts too much faith in my abilities. His dying wish was for me to reclaim his dagger, which was last seen in the hands of the man who attacked him. I think he believed if I found him I would also find the cure. My father, he had a very peculiar way of expressing himself. He could never just come out and say what he really wanted. But I have no idea why he was attacked much less by who. I do not know how he expects me to find this man or find the cure for this horrible thing."

Knell pushed off against the marble pillar she had been leaning against, the loud sound of stone grinding against stone pierced the air as the column slide a few inches in response, causing Knell to wince briefly. She rested a reassuring hand on Saros's shoulder. "Deimos is a good man and a wise man and he was right to put his faith in you. I see why he trusts you so much. This will get fixed. And I'll do everything in my power to help make that happen. " The air grew quiet from the tension that the sudden serious turn in the conversation had caused. A few awkward moments passed before Knell clapped her hands and chuckled awkwardly. "So uh yeah, I figured if we found out anything more about the poison it might lead us to the attacker or the maker of the poison and we could find the knife that way." Saros turned to look at Knell as she spoke, this got her attention and she found herself suddenly looking away and at the ground for some reason as she kicked at a few weeds.

"Well deduced. Well I can tell you this much, the stone appears to be a special type of blue granite which lucky for us is rare and only comes from Alfard and Cortierra,so that narrows it down a bit. You said he was able to grab a piece of cloth, yes?" He held an outstretched hand towards Saros who deposited a piece of black material in to it. Kwix ran it through his fingers a few times, before holding it up to the light and turning it over a few times. He gave it a few sniffs, before holding it up his ear and rubbing it a few times.

"It's a very thick fabric, meant for colder temperatures. It's black obviously, but its so incredibly black its almost impossible to discern any details about it. I picked up a faint whiff of pine sap. The material is very well made,designed to be nearly silent. My guess is this wasn't some random attack, this was an assassin, and he was sent from Alfard, and that is likely where he has returned to, at the very least that is where you will find whoever hired them. The fact that your father was able to retaliate at all and wasn't long dead by the time you arrived means either your father was very good, or this is a very bad assassin who somehow got their hands on some gear that is very very good. I can't tell you much more than that, but it likely means whoever paid for this assassin paid quite a bit. I don't know who in Alfard could afford to hire him, and which one of them would have motive. My knowledge in that regard is lacking, my info on the doings of nobles only extends as far as the city walls of Innastorm. But my guess is that you will find your answer in Alfard's capital city of Carth. That's where all the money lives."

Volfram uncrossed his arms and placed a hand on Saros's shoulder, and broke his silence of the last 30 minutes. "Well kid, there you go. Your assassin is in Alfard. Knock 'em dead."

Knell suddenly pivoted towards Volfram. "You can't be serious, you're not gonna bail already."

Volfram, whom had already began walking away, stopped and turned back around. "What, Kwix usually charges a ton for this kind of info analysis. That's a pretty big fucking favor."

"He still needs our help."

Volfram grunted. "Assassins with unknown motives from other lands means political intrique. Political intrigue mean lots of talking and not a lot of smashing. I'm no good when there is nothing to smash."

"You said I got to pick the first job. And this is the job I picked."

Volfram crossed his arms defensively. "Well we still need new recruits. Splitting night watch two ways is a real son of a bitch, trust me, I know."

A star-like mote of light suddenly appeared inches from Volfram's face nearly blinding him, he attempted to swat it away to no avail. Saros cleared his throat and spoke up. "I would go with you of course. I know some magic."

"Still, that's only three. A proper party needs at least four members, ideally five."

"I might have a solution for that." The sound of Kwix's voice startled the trio who had already forgotten about the presence of the small green figure. "Let's head back to my shop.

Kwix's legs and feet flailed uselessly as he struggled to reach for the contents at the bottom of the ches the was hanging over. Eventually he decided his dignity was already gone, so he just climbed the rest of the way in and began rooting around. He found a backpack which he tossed up towards Volfram who snagged it out of the air deftly

"Hey new guy, did you know I can do magic too?" Volfram held the bag open with one hand, and stuck his other hand in, pushing it deeper and deeper, past the wrist, the forearm, the elbow. Finally he got it all the way up to his shoulder, his arm seemingly vanishing within the small bag.

"I am not a simpleton, I know what a pocket dimension is. And the name is Saros. Saros Aerglo."

Volfram chuckled, "Yeah, I have no idea what you just said, we need to do something about that accent. What is that Sardonian?"

If any pigment could be seen on Saros's skin, you would have seen him blush. His lilting tone of voice and the ways words rolled along his tongue had felt natural to him, but as his father's travels had taken them farther and farther from their homeland, he had noticed his speech feel more and more out of place. It made him uncomfortable and he hated the reminder of just how alien he was.

Saros was smacked in the face by a second bag that he fumbled to grab as it fell to the floor. Once he had it in hand, he took a moment to inspect it. The front of the Bag was emblazoned with the words Kwix Kit. It was light, as if it was empty, but shaking it produced a rattling sound as it it was full of various items.

"That's one of Kwix's failed business ventures. Turns out anyone who needs a bag full of basic adventuring supplies can't afford a Pocket Dimension, and any one who can afford a Pocket Dimension already has all the adventuring supplies they need." Volfram pulled a few misc items from his bag to demonstrate, a shovel, a lantern, 50 foot of rope, a waterskin. Saros reached in and pulled out a ten foot long pole.

The Kwix emerged from the chest a moment later with a third bag. He walked to another chest, and retrieved a couple smaller bags, these ones were different, clearly visibily full of contents and made the unmistakable jingling sound of gold pieces. He led them back in to the main room where he grabbed a few large items and then slid open the large glass display case beneath the front desk and grabbed a few more items before holding the bag up towards Volfram. "Switch me." Volfram grabbed the bag from Kwix and handed him the empty one. Kwix locked eyes with Volfram as he did so, clutching one of Volframs massive fingers with his long claws. "Guard it with your life."

"Are you gonna tell us what your solution is yet." Volfram grumbled in response.

"Isn't it obvious, I'm going withy ou."

"Alright!" Knell pumped a fist in excitement

Volfram snorted in dismay "Do what now?"

"I'm sorry what point did you not understand."

"You're a shop keep."

"Yes, but a very well equipped one." He waved a wand at Volfram for emphasis before stuffing it in to the bag. "I've been thinking about expanding my business for a while. Setting up a new location in Carth sounds like the ticket. I'm sure you can see how this is a mutually beneficia larrangement. You'll need someone to gather information when you get there, I know you and Knell ain't the ones for the job, I don't know the first thing about you star man, but I definitely know I can hack it, and you know it too. Plus that means more info resources in thefuture, and wider catalogue of items. In addition, I would outfit this group. After all, your survivability improves my survivability. This only works out well for you, yes?"

"Yeah, okay fine, but you better pull your weight and I get dibs on all your stuff if you die."

"That sounds fair," Kwix held up a hand, and Volfram held out a large meaty finger. Kwix grabbed it and pumped it a few times eagerly. "So after that's all done, where to next boss?"

The voice of Knell's voice caused his head to turn to face her, "Well, uh, I figure our best bet is to use some sort of tracking or detection magic to see if we can track this cloth back to its owner. Does anyone have any suggestions on how we could do that? Saros, do you have any spells like that?" "Unfortunately no, I specialize in the summoning of extraplanar energies."

"How about you Kwix, you got anything in this store we could use."

"Well I just sold my only scrying orb about three weeks ago, so that's a no from me as well."

"And you Volfram, any suggestions."

Volfram sighed as he crossed his arms disapprovingly. "Yeah, I know someone. But you're not gonna like it.

*****

Journal Day 1 Well it's been an interesting 24 hours. Last night Volfram finally told me I was ready to be be an adventurer, we would just need to flesh out our party and then we'd be ready to undertake a quest. Fucking finally, I've been dying for this for months. I know I've been ready for a while, he's just not seen it. So last night I went out to celebrate, and there were these two wicked street performers. It was a father and son duo, it was the fucking greatest thing. The dad did all this cool acrobatic and juggling shit, and the son did all these really cool illusions, made things disappear and reappear, move things without touching em, it was wild. All without using a spellbook or rod or wand or anything. He didn't even have to chant, it was crazy. And it just so happened they were staying at the same inn. Man I wanted to hang out with Saros so bad. I fed them a line about needing a room for the night. The dad bought it but then Saros took off so it was all for naught. I talked with him for a bit. He's a good man, he loves his son. He told me stories of their travel, I tried to tell him stories about my training but I got nervous so I bolted. I wish I hadn't, I would have liked to talk to him some more. I would only see him one more time, briefly, before he turned in to stone. I got my chance to hang out with Saros but its at the expense of him losing his father. I know its not my fault, but I can't help but feel guilty for being thankful for this opportunity. I'm a shitty person. Fuck.

So as it turns out an old friend of Volfram's owed Saros a favor and he's cashing it in with us, and know we're hunting this guy down all the way in Carth. Volfram's old friend Kwix, I don't know if friend is the right word, business associate? I get the feeling they owe each other so many favors at this point no one's really sure who's more in debt at the moment. So he talked himself in to joining us on our journey, so know we've got four. We spent the rest of the day outfitting ourselves as well as filling out all the paperwork to ensure the quest and all party members were approved by the Adventure Hall. Tomorrow we head southeast to find another old friend of Volfram's in hopes we can get their assistance. Volfram doesn't seem too pleased by the prospect. Guess we will see why tomorrow.

#fantasy #fiction #lgbt #terraxia

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pocketseizure · 6 years

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The Legend of the Princess, Chapter 22

A Swiftly Encroaching Darkness

In which Zelda almost gets what she wants as her kingdom falls apart. NSFW

(Chapter 22 on AO3) (Story Tag on Tumblr) (Cover Illustration)

* * * * *

It’s amazing, really, how rapidly order can descend into chaos. One moment everything is fine, but the next moment nothing is. In retrospect we desperately wish we could have foreseen the catalyst that triggered the calamity, but at the time our eyes were turned elsewhere.

----------

“But I saw everything,” Zelda objected. “That monster, whatever it was, destroyed Hyrule. There was a city, and it burned. The entire land burned.”

“That ‘monster’ was a god, and it didn’t destroy Hyrule,” Ganondorf replied in voice that was so devoid of emotion that it disturbed Zelda more than his earlier anger. “Hylia did that.”

“But why would she – ”

“To keep it out of the hands of her enemies.”

Zelda opened her mouth, thought better of what she was about to say, and closed it. This was something to think about. She was still overwhelmed by what she had just witnessed, but a stray thought tugged at a corner of her mind.

“When the monster, or god, or whatever is was… When it cursed that girl, it didn’t curse her specifically, did it? It cursed her descendants. That’s what it said, right?”

Ganondorf narrowed his eyes. “What of it?”

“So listen, maybe all we have to do to break the curse is not have children.”

Zelda watched as the light of understanding filled Ganondorf’s eyes.

“That’s… That’s why I came here,” he said.

“That’s why you… What?”

“That’s why I came to Hyrule, to avoid having children.”

Zelda was struck by an icy stab of jealousy. Who would Ganondorf have children with? Now that she thought about it, it would make sense for him to be engaged already. Or, at the very least, being surrounded by women as he was…

“I thought you came to attend my coronation,” she said, unable to excise the bitterness from her voice.

“I had to fight Nabooru to get her to allow me to attend in her place.”

Something about this didn’t sit right with Zelda. “But aren’t you the king of the Gerudo?” she asked. “Why wouldn’t it be you who attended?”

“I’m the only highborn male in a city full of women. I have one job as king, and it’s not to rule the country.”

Zelda suddenly understood what he meant, and Ganondorf laughed as her eyes widened.

“I made it clear that I had no interest in that sort of thing, but Nabooru managed to convince the council of state that I might find inspiration if I spent time in Hyrule.”

“And did you?” Zelda asked. She smiled before she kissed him.

----------

There are many things about the current state of affairs in Hyrule that Zelda suspects but does not know. How could she?

How could she know why all the Darknuts have left the castle? How could she know why Barghest has remained? Zelda is attentive to detail, but she is bothered by these questions no more than a baker is bothered by the comings and goings of the assistants to the miller who grinds his flour. In an earlier era, perhaps a monarch would have been able to track the movements of every member of her staff, but Hyrule has thrived and flourished in the two hundred years since the last war, and the size of the bureaucracy that occupies the castle has grown along with the population, as has the number of people needed to keep the machine of state running efficiently. Zelda’s domain is the abstract realm of numbers and letters, not the care and feeding of the horses in the royal stables.

How could she know, then, that rebellion has fermented among the Darknuts, and that Barghest’s motives for remaining in the service of the Hylian king have little to do with loyalty?

Link knows, and he might even have told her if she’d thought to ask him, but she didn’t. Why would she? Zelda has always been aware that he hides things from her, but it’s only recently occurred to her that what he hasn’t said is far more important than what he has. As she sat on the floor of her father’s study surrounded by her late mother’s letters, Zelda considered finding Link to confront him, but it took her no longer than the space of a sigh to decide that their conversation could wait. After all, she has other fires to attend to at the moment.

----------

“This doesn’t have to be so complicated,” Zelda murmured into Ganondorf’s ear. “We can be civilized and have this conversation like civilized people.”

“Civilization didn’t make your ancestors any less evil,” he responded, turning his head to kiss her.

“‘Evil’ is a strong word,” she said, twisting her face away from him.

“So is ‘monster.’” He put a hand on the back of her neck and pulled her to him. She allowed his tongue to find hers. He took his time.

She eventually pushed him away, her hands on his chest. “I should go,” she said, intending to do no such thing.

He placed his hands over hers. “Don’t go,” he said, kissing the corner of her mouth. “We haven’t finished talking yet.”

“Can you convince me to stay?” she countered, allowing the upturn of her question to linger on the fullness of his bottom lip.

“Just try to get away,” he said. She felt every movement of his teeth on her skin.

“Is that a challenge?” She smiled and turned to leave. He caught her by the arms and reeled her in so that her back was pinned against the front of his body. He had her trapped, at least in play.

“Would you like to be challenged?” he asked, trailing the fingers of his hand down her throat and sliding his thumb under the strap of her gown.

----------

In less than two days Zelda will become a queen. This has real political significance concerning the balance of power in the kingdom, but the ceremonies themselves symbolize the stability of continuity and reflect the contentment of a people who have never been attacked, who have never readied themselves for war, who have never known true hardship for hundreds of years. Peace has resulted in wealth, and wealth demands comfort. Trade has flourished, as has culture. Hyrule is a prosperous kingdom, and its people have much to celebrate.

As dignitaries from across the land congregate, festivities continue within the great hall of the castle. Likewise, raucous merrymaking enlivens the city, until suddenly it doesn’t.

All it takes is a single spark to light a fire, but that spark will not catch if it doesn’t find kindling to burn.

The centuries since the last war have been good to the victors, but the prejudice against those who opposed the monarchy has been slow to fade. The Zora have enjoyed the favor of Hyrule, as have the Rito and the Gorons. The Darknuts, once proud knights who served both the Hylians and the Gerudo, have not been so lucky – the Sheikah saw to that. Entire generations were lost on both sides the last time Hyrule Castle came under siege, and neither the monarchy’s allies nor those who fought alongside the vanquished Gerudo were forgiven. Cubs were lifted from the cold hands of their parents and placed into the homes of Hylians, who took their language and names and shaped them into model subjects of the queen who had denied the same opportunity to their families. Children grew as decades passed, and perhaps injustices would have eventually been forgotten had not memory persisted in the shadowed hills and forests of Ordon, where the light of the divine queens could not reach.

The Darknuts had once despised the Moblins. They thought, as did most of Hyrule, that they were no more than savage beasts, barely capable of language and only good for the most menial of tasks. The Darknuts were strong, but they were architects while the Moblins hauled stone. The Darknuts were fierce, but they were strategists while the Moblins fell on the front lines. The Darknuts had a way with animals, but they bred prize horses while the Moblins shoveled shit. When the Gerudo turned their backs on Hyrule and the Darknuts had nowhere else to go, however, the Moblins gave them shelter in the ruins hidden in the forgotten corners of Hyrule. The Moblins defended their territory with the ferocity of a people who know what it means to be hunted, but the Darknuts quickly learned that they were by no means uncivilized.

The Gerudo keep a close watch over these ruins, and they maintain good relations with the communities that live there. Water springs from deep within the bedrock upon which crumbling towers and dusty underground palaces have been built, presenting opportunities for Gerudo engineers and Darknut masons alike. Trade flourishes, with the fruits of the sandy soil exchanged for cool water, and in recent years strange relics have begun to surface and circulate. Old grudges fade slowly, however, and the Gerudo know better than to interrupt the slumber of the ancient deities that may still dwell within the sites once sacred to the Hylians. Neither the Gerudo nor the Darknuts venture farther than their Moblin guides will lead them.

This balance was maintained until, almost two hundred years after the Darknuts were driven from Hyrule, a Gerudo prince once again ascended to the throne. The prince asked questions, and he demanded answers. Unlike those who came before him, he was not afraid of the power of the ancients, and he devoured the messages of the glyphs carved into the timeless walls with a ferocious hunger that could not be sated.

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Ganondorf slowly moved his hand until it was directly over the line of fabric dividing Zelda’s skin from her dress. She could feel the weight of his palm on her breast, whose peak stiffened into a hard point from the pleasant friction. Ganondorf must have noticed, for he shifted his palm to cup her breast and circled her sensitive nipple with his thumb. Zelda sighed softly, and he kissed her neck with an equal softness.

“Let me touch you,” he whispered into her ear, and Zelda nodded.

Ganondorf slipped his hand under the fabric, and then the heat of his palm was directly on her skin. He met the curve of her breast with the firmness of his fingers, trapping her nipple as he teased it with his thumb. He did not paw at her as other men had done, but neither was he gentle.

He kissed her at the base of her ear and then moved his arm around her as his hand glided down to the skirt of her gown. He touched her bare leg, murmuring in appreciation as he stroked the smooth skin of her thigh, and then he raised his hand so that the thin fabric of her dress cascaded like a waterfall from the ropy muscle of his forearm. The tips of his fingers burned against her stomach as he caressed her bare skin. Zelda knew exactly what he was doing, and she allowed it to happen. She whispered his name into his mouth and reached down to position his hand between her legs.

He exhaled as his fingers slid over the silk of her panties, and he cupped her sex delicately, as if it were a precious thing. When he began petting her, he did so gently, moving his fingers back and forth slowly across her. The strong pressure of his middle finger created a delicious tension, especially as it lingered at the top of her slit.

Ganondorf shifted his position, and touch of his hardness against her back made her feel as if she were melting. She wanted more, and so she turned to face him, pressing herself against him as she pinned his waist between her legs. His eyes were liquid gold as he gazed at her in wonder, and she kissed him.

She tasted sweetness, nothing but sweetness, a surfeit of the sweetest things – the taste of his lips and the touch of his hands and the fragrance of his hair. When Zelda had dallied with men before, there would always be a moment when her curiosity chilled and curdled into discomfort, but her desire for Ganondorf only grew warmer. There was only his cool breath, the spiciness of his tongue, and the pressure of his fingers on her neck, calloused and unyielding, forcing her to lift her face and open her mouth to his.

As they kissed Zelda remembered how he had led her in a dance through the air above the ruined castle in the Twilight Realm. She felt the same giddy rush of flying, but now she had complete control. She guided Ganondorf's hands where she needed them to be, flush against her skin. He grew even harder at her waist, the thickness of his length hot on the skin of her belly. When she moved to adjust her position he groaned low in his throat, and she rocked against him, taking her pleasure as she teased him. She knew what his hands were capable of, and she wanted to force him to use them. She wanted to force him to lose control.

----------

The Moblins waiting outside the city walls have been watching for a sign, and the smoke rising above the ramparts is as good a sign as any. It’s difficult to say who throws the first stone, who fires the first shot, who bellows the first war cry. Various people will later proudly claim or vehemently deny the charge, but in the end it doesn’t matter. Buildings burn, fighting fills the streets, and Darknuts lead battalions of Moblins as they pour through the city gates to join their brothers and sisters. The soldiers withdraw from the chaos, determined to defend the castle at all costs. Their commanders believe that Hyrule Castle is the primary target of the invaders, whose forces move through the city on their way to the center. This assumption proves to be correct.

Ganondorf was not being entirely honest when he suggested to Zelda that his primary purpose is to breed Gerudo children. He had been raised to be a king, and he occupies a political position equal to that of the council of elders who govern the Gerudo city in the desert. He has never seen himself as a leader, however; his interests are far more specific.

When his mother was poisoned by the Hylian queen he realized that he would not be able to serve his people through statecraft. He knew his martial prowess would never be equal to that of the women who spend their lives training to serve at the palace, so instead he developed his talent in magic. The pursuit of knowledge became its own reward; but, for every question he answered, dozens more sprang up in its place. Eventually he arrived at the mystery that lay at the core of these questions – Where did magic come from? All evidence pointed him in the direction of Hyrule, where, ironically, magic had all but disappeared. Why?

Ganondorf ventured deep into the abandoned temples and sprawling underground mazes where the Darknuts and Moblins made their home. Unlike the other Gerudo, he was eager to learn their language, and with only a minimum of instruction he had taught himself to read the spiraling mosaics that served as their writing. The Moblins had drawn this system from the patterns of glyphs covering the walls of the ruins they occupied, and with their help Ganondorf began to read these walls, lines running along narrow corridors and across vast chambers, which flared to life with magic as he chanted, one wording echoing like a refrain – Triforce. No matter how much he learned, he still kept asking questions. Why? Why? Why?

Ganondorf was courteous and generous to the people who watched his journeys and assisted in his excavations, but he felt no sense of obligation to them. Nevertheless, they were infected by the relentless flame of his curiosity. “Why” is a powerful question, and the answers it dredges up can be dangerous. At first Ganondorf was nothing more than a child, and then he was a strange and sullen teenager, and when he became a king he ceased to visit at all, bound as he was to his people. Nevertheless his legend spread among the Darknuts, who have never forgotten their history, and even the Moblins have started to whisper the name of a fallen god who may one day rise again – Ganon.

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The doors to Ganondorf’s chambers burst open, sending a pile of books flying. The vibrations upset a vase perched on one of the bookshelves set along the wall, and it shattered on the floor, spilling flowers and water in a fan across the tiles.

“Impa!” Zelda exclaimed, digging her nails into Ganondorf’s shoulders as his muscles tensed.

Impa stood in the doorway as a dozen Sheikah filed past her into the room. “Seize this man,” she ordered, fixing Ganondorf in an icy stare.

Zelda rose to her feet and adjusted her dress, blocking Ganondorf with her body. “What is the meaning of this?” she demanded. “I’ve got this situation under control.”

“I have no doubt you do,” Impa responded, “but the orders to arrest him came directly from the king.”

“Then we will talk to the king directly,” Zelda insisted. “The Gerudo ambassador has done nothing to deserve this treatment. And can’t this wait until morning? Surely my father knows better than to send Sheikah barging into the rooms of one of our guests in the middle of the night. I will not allow you to take this man anywhere without my permission.”

“If I may,” Ganondorf spoke up from behind her.

“What?” Zelda muttered, not allowing her eyes to leave Impa’s face.

Ganondorf laid a hand on her waist, and there was a metallic hiss as the Sheikah drew their weapons in unison.

“Stand down.” Zelda raised her voice in the cool assurance of command, and Impa shrugged in acquiescence. The assassins stepped back, but they did not sheath their blades.

Ganondorf gently positioned Zelda to the side as he stood. He stretched his arms and fastened the clasps at his collar. “I’ve been meaning to see the castle dungeon,” he said casually. “I knew this would happen sooner or later, and I’m honored to have been granted such a fine escort. By all means, take me away. I’m sure this will be resolved soon, one way or another.”

Zelda glared at him, but he didn’t meet her eyes. The silence was so thick that Zelda could hear her heart beating in her ears.

Impa weighed his words for a moment before arriving at a decision. “Blindfold him,” she said, snapping her fingers at the woman positioned at her right hand. “And make sure his wrists are bound in the back. Keep a knife at his neck, we don’t want to take any chances with this one.”

As her orders were carried out, she walked to Ganondorf, putting herself between him and Zelda. “I wouldn’t try anything funny if I were you,” she said. “I’m sure you know what will happen if one of those blades so much grazes your skin.”

“I’m familiar with your poisons,” Ganondorf sneered. “Intimately.”

Impa narrowed her eyes. “Gag him too.”

Ganondorf allowed himself to be bound and led out of the room tightly ringed by a phalanx of Sheikah. Impa remained behind with Zelda, who watched the proceedings with a blank stare.

“Well, that was fun,” she said after the doors whispered shut. “Do you want to explain what’s going on?”

Impa took Zelda’s hands before pulling her into a fierce hug. She released her but kept her fingers twined through Zelda’s. “Heart of my heart,” she said, “I understand what you were trying to do, but I can’t even begin to fathom how you could bring yourself to touch that man. I thought it would be better not to tell you, but he’s single-handedly bringing about the downfall of this kingdom. He cursed Jabun and the Deku Tree, which are dying as we speak. If they die, the Zora and the Kokiri will die with them, and he doesn’t care. He provoked the dragon on Death Mountain into attacking Darunia’s son, and the boy is as good as dead. Still he sits in this castle and smiles like a thief. But don’t let him fool you. If only you knew what he’s done…”

“Impa,” Zelda said softly as she squeezed her hand. “I knew.”

----------

Daphnes is a good man, kind and just. He is a good king as well, and he has tirelessly devoted himself to the welfare of his people. He knew about his wife’s affair, and he accepted it. He performed his duty to her as best he could, as he continues to do his duty to her daughter – their daughter. He loved the queen, but it was a distant admiration, and he gives all the affection he could not express to her to Zelda. He adores his daughter, and he has faith that she will become a capable ruler who brings glory to Hyrule, but darkness enfolds his heart like a shroud.

One night the queen, who had never so much as touched his face with her long and graceful fingers, came to him in the moonlight. She begged for a child, weeping all the while. After so many years of following along behind her like a dog he could not do as she asked; there was no spark of intimacy between them, and it was impossible.

And so she drugged him and took what she wanted.

He was unaware of this until her pregnancy was announced. He jumped to the natural conclusion a man might come to in this situation, but when Zelda was born he could not deny that she was his own. He hated his wife, yet he still loved her in his sad and patient way, even then. He grew attached to the child as he had never allowed himself to grow close to anyone else the castle, and so he was the first person to understand that the girl was different, and powerful.

He demanded an explanation, and the queen obliged, finally. If Ganon had returned to the world, she told him, then there must be a Zelda, and she must be a trueborn daughter of the royal line. She told him about the Triforce, and about the terrible enemies that would seek to claim it. Armies could be amassed, but they would all be consumed by flames; the only defense the kingdom had was the princess and her chosen knight. Hyrule had been cursed by a primordial demon, and only Hylia’s heir was its equal. If Zelda couldn’t seal this evil, then no one could.

Daphnes was the second son of a minor aristocrat who governed a small stretch of coastline in Faron province, and he loved nothing more than the sun on his face and the wind in his hair. He knew nothing about gods and demons and curses, but he would do anything to protect his daughter.

“Kill the Gerudo prince,” he told the queen, and instead of objecting she had grown thoughtful. Later she came to him in the night, and for the first time he embraced her as her husband. The next day she left for the desert, and a week later she was dead.

Daphnes was not a vain or a foolish man, but he knew the queen had selected him as her consort because of the cast of his face. He had the outward seeming of a king, and suddenly he was forced to become one. To his surprise, he was good at it, and he allowed the work to consume him and shape his character. If there were gods and monsters in Hyrule, he had no problem with them as long as they paid taxes and settled their disputes in court. Despite the tragedy lingering over the untimely death of the queen, it seemed as if his reign was blessed with peace and prosperity.

When his Sheikah advisors reported to him that the Darknuts had started meeting in secret under the cover of darkness, he thought nothing of it. Better to allow them to dream of rebellion than to imprison anyone without cause. When the urban gentry complained that Moblins had begun to congregate in growing settlements outside the city walls, he permitted it. Castle Town was growing, after all, and the Moblins were hard workers who didn’t demand high wages. In fairy tales it is said that Hylian ears are long so that they can catch the whispers of the gods, but Daphnes had no use for old legends or divine revelations.

All of that changed when Ganondorf came to Hyrule Castle.

Other people may wonder, in retrospect, what moment led to the calamity that resulted in the end of an era, but Daphnes knows, and he hates himself for knowing.

( Link to Chapter 23: A Daring Rescue )

#Princess Zelda #Ganondorf #Zelgan #The Legend of the Princess #Zelda fic #my fic

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freeqthamighty · 6 years

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My First Night in South Africa

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after crossing waters where my kin still stand, unable to find eternal rest on ocean beds, i find myself floating in a sea of Black faces from every current that licks the coast of this continent.

i am lost at see. i am emerging in every face my eyes behold between blinks. i hear myself in every turn of the tongue regardless of the language that confines it.

i have floated so far from for the shores of reality when my suitcase grazes lightly, like a full gazelle, against another woman’s bag.

i return from the paradise my mind has vacationed my sense of space to. i begin to pluck an apology like sweet fruit from beneath my tongue,

when this woman, when this white woman, when this white woman in South Africa

raises her voice at me like I am a child whose careless hands have come too close to spilling the rainbow stew that sits in this nation’s melting pot.

this woman. she says to me, GO AROUND!

entitlement filling the deep valleys disbelief has created on her face. in that moment, i am sure she has packed all of the white mans burdens in her suitcases.

she speaks, and her every word becomes shovel to unearth the ghosts of apartheid, now, we are toe to toe in this haunted hallway

and she continues,

YOU NEED TO GO AROUND! THIS LAND IS OCCUPIED!

she says this, and she traces her finger through the air as if the act of drawing borders is her inheritance.

it is not lost on me i am here for a summit to ‘break down borders’, and this relic, she reminds me how many borders exist beyond the maps they’ve drawn on our lands,

how to them, our very beings are borders, able to be crossed with no consequence.

this woman. she is the prodigal daughter of colonization, returned to her father’s gluttonous feast on our land.

i wonder if her ancestors told her to speak down to me like mine compelled me to stand up to her?

THIS LAND, she says, IS OCCUPIED!

…as if I did not already know this.

as if i too do not come from a land where whites have taken and taken and taken to the point that they and even we believe it is theirs to hold in their hands, their soft hands that have never worked this land, only overseen our bent or broken bodies.

i open my mouth, and decades of displacement fill the hotel lobby. the bellboy’s mouth,

it falls agape at my audacity, my spirit, it shatters at his silence.

this woman. she tells me, THIS LAND IS OCCUPIED, and my brother’s eyes begs me to wear quiet like a coat in this South African winter.

i consider his request…

…in my mind, but my body,

my body remembers and refuses to go back to a silence colonization once forced down my grandmother’s throat, the same silence that sits too comfortably in too many of my cousin’s stomachs.

from the corner of my eye, i see my South African sister shift, i realize her body remembers too, I watch her mouth transform from body part to sword and tell this woman so sharply,

shut up! who are you? let’s go Mwende, this is not worth the time

we disengage from that which only means to take and take.

her body remembers it belongs here, was birthed here, was not beckoned by false burdens and gods whose only path to kingdom is conquer

my sister, she reclaims this ‘occupied’ land, and makes a way for both of us to pass.

later, she whispers to me that maybe sons|daughters should be made to pay the price their fathers put on our heads, that maybe then, they’d understand this land was never theirs to begin with.

i respond with a throat full of thanks, i tell her how in my mind, i took the woman’s bags and threw them across the lobby, how i imagined her clothes becoming a flock of birds taking flight,

as we picture this scene of paradise in our minds, our mouths burst open like ripe coconuts knocked down in the winds of change.

we are a lineage of laughter|survival, the recognition that sometimes they be both and the same,

that sometimes,

our joy is our being and our being is a reminder we are still being here, that still being here is enough of an act of resistance, enough of a reminder, that though the project of colonization is ongoing,

it is an ongoing failure.

let our every breath be reminder.

we are still here,

we have always been here,

we will always be here.

-Mwende “FreeQuency” Katwiwa, May 26th, 2017

youtube

Interview in South Africa for the #BreakingDownBorders African Youth Summit

#poetry #prose #prose poetry #south africa #colonialism #colonization #borders #breaking borders #africa #african youth #freequency #freequencyspeaks #mwende katwiwa #mwende freequency katwiwa

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arplis · 4 years

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Arplis - News: Help a city survive an earthquake in Disaster Report 4

Nintendo Switch has tons of awesome games available right now! Plus, there are dozens more in the pipeline. When the Switch first launched, there were fewer than a dozen titles available for sale. But, as time goes by, and as game makers realize the popularity of Nintendo's hybrid mobile console, more and more titles are being added to the list all of the time. Here are all the games available right now, in digital and game card form, as well as games that are officially coming to Switch sometime in the future. What's new? New games released and announced games coming soon Here's where you'll find everything new that is either now available in the Switch eShop or as a physical game card, as well as games that have recently been announced as coming to the Switch. New physical game cartridges you can buy right now! Disaster Report 4 - April 7 - $60 Physical game cartridges you can pre-order right now! 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