#thought it would be beneficial to like... properly introduce him before anything else

[brokebackmonastery]

self insert intro finally WOOHOO!!

did not have any great art of him. oh well. in any case this is luna-myr eisner (transmasc + any pronouns! you'll usually see me using he/they but anything is alright)! and while he is to a degree a self insert he's also very much like. an OC. because i like to write and that's just how i do self shipping i suppose. anyways further details below :3

(proship/comship DNI)

self insert but also what you would call a bylethsona i suppose. definitely not exactly like canon byleth as you will see. comes paired with custom route i have deemed seafoam star

was sort of half-conscious growing up until sothis awoke. capable of feeling emotion, but cannot truly express them and experiences everything through somewhat of a haze

only people he really had growing up were jeralt (who is his dad ofc) and whatever animals hung out wherever they were staying. was generally not around people his age and even when they were nobody wanted to engage with him because of his "odd" behavior. even adults were put off by him

autistic. who would i be if i did not make my SI autistic

quite merciful for a mercenary. capable of being brutal, but it is reserved for the truly deplorable; for example, often lets thieves trying to steal from well-off folk to keep themselves or their loved ones alive go in secret. does not see these acts of survival as worthy of punishment. wishes he could help them more. however, people are generally not aware of this and are more likely to have heard about the aforementioned brutality.

though they didn't have much choice in taking the monastery job, he was generally okay with it, if not confused. It was their first time in a setting surrounded by so many people his age consistently. understood why seteth did not trust him.

time powers work more in-depth than with canon byleth. can of course use divine pulse, but this also comes with an unusually acute perception of time and the occasional ability to have visions of the past and possible futures. since his body is still technically mortal, these visions often make him feel faint if not entirely pass out. These visions can be shared via touch.

genuinely does not understand what the hell is going on, particularly early game. people seem to think he does or that he's hiding something — he is not. they are just learning to express the confusion they feel.

drawn to claude right away. erm...?

more visibly nabatean than canon byleth after fusing with sothis. pointed ears and reptilian pupils come alongside the green hair. possibly has a few scales here and there on his body as well. claws (and i'm talking CLAWS not just long nails) and fangs. dragon form that he is entirely unaware of until much later. the sort of "transformation" into being more visibly nabatean was like. Painful and lasted roughly a week

teaches all three classes and has a significant connection with them all, but is the homeroom teacher of/is the closest with the golden deer (think like... the teachers rotate who they teach basically. but each have a homeroom they are tied to/spend more time with)

did not even have a chance to choose a side between edelgard and rhea. would not have killed edelgard at rhea's request regardless and approaches her about it before the imperial attack on the monastery to ask if there is any other way. rhea was upset by the idea that he did not side with her unconditionally. they did not want to kill either of them

loves rhea, but does not trust her. Very confused by her actions and only wants the truth from her. Sees her as somewhat of a motherly figure, ironically.

likes drawing, creating jewelry (usually out of bone), sewing, and carving (usually sets of dice). like sitri, loves flowers and will be delighted to see unusual ones. his favorites are any kind of lily. has an affinity for stuffed animals as well

big fan of moths especially luna moths if that was not apparent. goes to see them out in the wild yearly in the short span of time that they are active

also bonus dragon form where he's a weird horsemothlizard as well as a better demonstrarion of the fact that they have straight up Claws. that's all i've got for now. cheers

[emospritelet]

Heatstroke - chapter 12

Last time, Gold got teased by Swanfire, Lacey got teased by Ruby, and both of them were convinced that the other hates them.

[AO3]

x

Gold rummaged in the cupboard for a plastic tub, fishing one out and setting it on the kitchen counter. He could hear Emma and Neal in the lounge, changing Henry’s diaper and getting him ready for the trip home. They had spent a pleasant Sunday at the park, picnicking on a blanket in the warm sunshine, but it was time for his family to head back to Boston. Gold opened his cake tins, cutting a thick wedge of the date and walnut cake he had made and putting it in the plastic tub. He added half a dozen stem ginger cookies and put on the lid, carrying it through to the lounge.

“Here,” he said, offering it to Emma. “Something for the road.”

“Thanks.” She opened up the tub and took a deep inhale before putting the lid back on. “Smells delicious. You’re too good to us.”

“Well, I have no one else to spoil,” said Gold, with a grin. “Besides, it stops me eating it.”

Neal drained his glass of milk, setting it down on the little table next to Gold’s chair, and Gold took a seat as he watched them both pack away Henry’s changing mat and diapers. Henry pushed to his feet, toddling towards Gold and reaching up with flailing arms. He caught the empty glass, sending it flying to the ground. Emma looked up at the crash of glass, and winced.

“Dammit!” she said, as Henry began to cry. “Sorry.”

“No matter.” Gold scooped Henry up and bounced him on his knee. “No damage done. Well, except to the glass.”

“Yeah, no fixing that,” said Emma, frowning at the broken glass. “Neal, could you get a brush or something?”

“Dustpan’s under the sink,” called Gold, as Neal headed for the kitchen.

“I got it.”

Emma squatted down and began stacking curved pieces of glass on her palm.

“Just leave it for Neal,” said Gold. “You’ll cut yourself.”

“It’s fine, I got - ow!”

There was a tinkling of glass as Emma dropped the shards. She winced, sucking a cut finger, and Gold shook his head.

“I did say.”

“Yeah…” She inspected the cut. “You got a Band-Aid?”

“Kitchen drawer,” said Gold, and Emma nodded, pushing to her feet.

He looked down at Henry, who had stopped crying, but had grasped his tie and was chewing on it. Gold rolled his eyes, pulling it from Henry’s grasp and sighing as he saw the extensive patch of drool.

“I think a teething ring might be more beneficial, what do you say?” he said, bouncing him on his knee again. Henry gurgled happily, and Gold grinned, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Okay, let me get that mess.” Neal entered with a dustpan and brush, squatting down to sweep up the shards and tiny specks of glass. 

“I’ll run the vacuum over it when you’ve gone,” said Gold, still bouncing Henry. “You will give me a call when you get home?”

“Sure.”

“I mean as soon as you get home, not ten o’clock at night when I’ve already convinced myself you’re all dead in a ditch.”

“Dad...”

“Fine.” Gold transferred Henry to his other knee. “It’s been great to see you all. I’ll try to drive down to Boston in the next few weeks, if you like.”

“You’re always welcome, you know that.” Neal finished brushing up the broken glass. “Although sleeping on our couch can’t be good for your leg.”

“Well, I can always get a hotel for the night,” said Gold. “And you’re welcome to come here whenever you want to get out of the city. I don’t exactly have much company otherwise.”

“You sure about that?”

Emma’s voice from the doorway made him look around, and he felt his mouth fall open in horror. She was smirking at him, one hand raised and a very small pair of coral-coloured panties swinging from an outstretched finger.

“Where the hell did you get those?” asked Neal.

“Kitchen drawer,” said Emma, and raised an eyebrow at Gold. “I’m guessing they’re not yours, so how did they end up in your kitchen, hmm?”

Gold could feel his mouth opening and closing, and snapped it shut.

“Small…” Emma turned the panties this way and that. “Coral pink - nice colour by the way - and very, very - lacy.”

She was grinning at him, and he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him.

“I assure you there’s a perfectly innocent explanation,” he said.

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear it,” chuckled Emma. “You gonna try to tell us you keep her underwear in the kitchen drawer because you secretly hate each other?”

“It was the cat,” said Gold lamely.

“Oh, come on…”

“I’m serious!” he insisted.

“That is the worst attempt at a lie I ever heard,” said Neal, grinning.

“It’s true!” Gold regretted not throwing the panties away when he had the chance. “I kept finding them in the lounge. Six pairs! And a bra!”

“And the cat put them there,” said Neal, in a flat voice. “Right...”

“I saw him do it!” insisted Gold.

“I could make the obvious joke about pussy,” said Emma, “but you’re my father-in-law and it’d be weird.”

“And yet you said it anyway.” Neal ran his hands over his face with a groan, and she chuckled.

“Sorry. Look, Pops, if she’s leaving her underwear in your kitchen she definitely likes you.”

“She hates me!” snapped Gold. “She bloody well threw a drink over me when I tried to give them back to her! Called me a pervert!”

“You two…” Emma shook her head. “Worst flirts in the entire world.”

“Calling someone a pervert is not flirting!”

“Would you just admit you like her?”

She tossed the panties to him, and Gold fumbled as he grabbed at them.

“Certainly not,” he said coolly. “And the feeling is extremely mutual.” 

“Fine,” sighed Emma. “Just - why don’t you try talking to her? Nice, normal conversation. Maybe buy her a coffee.”

“It’s not as though we have anything in common,” said Gold. “Thankfully she isn’t a tenant, and I doubt she has an interest in antiques. There’s no reason for our paths to cross.”

x

Lacey had decided that if she were ever to have the poor judgement to agree to another breakfast interview, she certainly wouldn’t conduct it in Granny’s Diner.

Sidney had suggested it, what with Granny’s being the beating heart of Storybrooke, and Zelena West wanting to emphasise her community spirit. Lacey had thought it was definitely worth a try. Who could hold back when faced with hot coffee and fresh muffins, after all?

Unfortunately, the diner was busy during the breakfast service, and while the noise meant that their conversation wouldn’t be difficult to overhear, it also meant that she had an audience of curious townsfolk watching her every move as she greeted her interviewee. Two men on the nearest table didn’t hide their interest; one of them she knew was called Leroy, who had a bristling black beard and a permanent scowl on his face. The other she didn’t know by name, but he was perhaps a little older than Leroy, with sleepy eyes and an easy, relaxed manner. The two always ate breakfast together, and she hadn’t worked out if they were colleagues or boyfriends. They certainly bickered enough that it could have gone either way.

Leroy took a bite of his breakfast muffin, watching as she stood up to greet Zelena West. The little she knew of the woman hadn’t impressed her, and meeting her properly did nothing to change that. Zelena looked her up and down when Lacey introduced herself, lip curling a little before she bared her teeth in a smile. Reddish curls fell around her shoulders beneath a wide-brimmed black hat that Lacey privately thought made her look like a witch.

“Are you Sidney’s office girl, or something?” she asked.

“No, I’m conducting the interview,” said Lacey. “We spoke on the phone, remember?”

“Yes, but I presumed you were - qualified.” Zelena appeared to be checking the length of her skirt. “How old are you, anyway? You look as though you should still be in school.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” said Lacey, trying not to let her smile turn into a grimace. “Mostly from horny scumbags with no brains and no class. I’m sure you’re not like that, right?”

Leroy appeared to choke on his muffin before coughing loudly. Zelena shot her a narrow-eyed look, and Lacey’s smile widened. 

“Why don’t you take a seat?” she suggested. “Coffee? How about a little something sweet? The banana-pecan muffins are great.”

“I never eat carbs in the morning,” said Zelena. “Just coffee will be fine. Black.”

Lacey nodded, and raised a hand to attract Ruby’s attention. She could already tell that this was going to be one of her more irritating interviewees.

Once they had their coffee, Lacey started with the questions. She made notes as Zelena talked about her difficult early life, her experience of the foster system and how that had made her determined to make life better for others. A few of the facts she dropped made Lacey’s nose twitch in interest, the sense of a story untold, a story that it would take more investigation to unearth. A topic for another day, perhaps.

“So what made you move to Storybrooke?” she asked. “Seems a weird choice. I mean as far as charity goes, I’m guessing the resources here are way more limited than they are in New York.”

“Perhaps,” said Zelena. “But there again the competition for the funds raised is far fiercer. At least in a small town, those that give so generously can see the benefits almost immediately.”

“I guess,” said Lacey, scribbling hard. “Pretty weird what happened with the nuns, though, huh? I heard there was some mix-up at Miners’ Day. Some inaccuracy in the total raised?”

“Oh, the nun put in charge of their stall was completely hopeless,” said Zelena, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “She was mistaken in her accounting, that’s all. I heard it’s not the first time.”

“Oh, so was that the same with the auction held this spring?” asked Lacey. “I spoke to a couple of people involved with that, and it’s weird. None of them seem to agree on the amount that went to the children’s ward.”

Zelena’s nostrils flared.

“I thought this interview was supposed to be about the dance I’ve organised, not past events,” she snapped. “The entire town is looking forward to it! I want this article to encourage as many people to attend as possible! Do charitable works count for nothing with you?”

“See, that’s the thing,” said Lacey, tapping her pencil against her notebook. “I heard you’ve done a number of fundraisers over the years since you got here. Bake sales, auctions, even some thing where you offered to go to dinner with the highest bidder, although it turned out you didn’t raise the sum you were hoping—”

“That was a misunderstanding,” said Zelena stiffly.

“—and out of all those events, there seems to be a common theme,” went on Lacey, “which is that the good causes you were raising money for don’t seem too clear on what share they were supposed to get of the proceeds. So what happened there?”

“Are you accusing me of something?”

“No,” said Lacey, twirling the pencil between her fingers. “Just asking questions. It’s what I do.”

“Well, stick to the questions I agreed with your editor,” snapped Zelena.

Lacey gave her a sweet smile, twirling the pencil between her fingers.

“I’m afraid Sidney didn’t tell me what those were,” she said. “So I’m having to wing it. Sorry about that.”

Over Zelena’s shoulder, she saw the diner door open and Mr Gold stepped through, taking a moment to remove the sunglasses he wore. He caught Lacey’s eye for a brief moment, and she felt her heart thump a little before looking away.

“I’m not about to sit here and listen to baseless accusations!” Zelena was glaring at her, pale blue eyes flashing. “Consider this interview over!”

She pushed to her feet, stepping back, and almost collided with Gold. He took a hasty step back from her, and Zelena’s face brightened as she showed white teeth in a wide, predatory grin. 

“Oh, Mr Gold,” she said, in honeyed tones. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Miss West,” he said neutrally. “Miss French. Please excuse me.”

He stepped to the side to go around her, and Zelena stepped with him, cutting off his path. Gold appeared to restrain himself from rolling his eyes with great difficulty.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” she went on, in that sickly-sweet voice.

“My business hours are eight-thirty til six,” he said. “Please come to the shop if you need to make any representations regarding your rent.”

She gave a tinkling little laugh that made Lacey grimace.

“Oh, you’re so funny!” she said. “I always pay my debts.”

“I’m delighted to hear it.”

He bowed his head a little, a clear indication that, in his opinion, the conversation was over. He took a step to the left, and Zelena again moved with him. This time his eyes definitely rolled, his chin lifting a little and exposing his throat. Lacey found her eyes following the line of it, and hurriedly looked at the knot of his tie instead.

“It’s about the charity dance,” said Zelena. “It’s for a very good cause, the whole town is planning to be there, and yet I don’t seem to have had your response to my invitation.”

“Well, you just mentioned the words ‘dance’ and ‘the whole town’,” he said levelly. “Neither fills me with any great level of enthusiasm, I have to say. Excuse me.”

“But if you just let me explain—”

“Would you let the man get his coffee?” said Lacey impatiently. “We’re still wrapping up this interview, remember?”

Gold took the opportunity to slip past and head for the diner counter as Zelena rounded on her with a look of fury.

“You think I’m going to sit here and be accused of impropriety by a - a glorified intern?” she snapped. “I’ll be calling the paper today and insisting you be sacked!”

“Knock yourself out,” said Lacey, unconcerned. “I’ll just write up what I’ve got. This was going to be your opportunity to call bullshit on all the rumours that were flying around, but sure, I guess you could just read the piece when it’s out and let people make up their own minds.”

Zelena made a face like she was chewing a wasp. Out of the corner of her eye, Lacey noticed Gold glance over his shoulder with a tiny smirk on his face. Zelena bared her teeth.

“Five minutes,” she hissed. “And I’m still calling your editor.”

“Cool, whatever.” Lacey sat back down and gestured to the seat across from her. “So. Back to the dinner auction. Talk me through what happened.”

Zelena seemed to be struggling with something, but slowly lowered herself into the chair opposite, and Lacey gave her a wide smile. Perhaps she’d get to write something interesting after all.

[secret-engima]

So we’ve got Regina’s group, but what about Mors’? Who is his Advisor/Hand (Weskham)? His Sword (Cor)? (Hadrian is his Shield (Clarus) and Vita his Consort/Heart (Titus)) I don’t think Ardyn, Sylva, and Cid would have counterparts, given that they aren’t really Regina’s subordinates/retainers? But you COULD come up with counterparts I suppose - the Elder/Scholar, the Ally, the Inventor/Creator. And what are the Flame types of Mors and Co (I hc Hadrian and the Amicitia’s are generally Storms)?

*deep breath*

darn it a-world-in-grey you made me create a REALLY INTERESTING OC FOR THIS. BECAUSE I HADN’T THOUGHT ABOUT WHO HIS HAND AND SWORD WERE BEFORE NOW BUT NOW I HAVE AND NHGFDFGHGFD-

ALRIGHT BUCKLE UP IMMA RAMBLE.

You’re right, Mors never had an Ardyn, Sylva, or Cid counterpart, though he was on fairly good terms with the Oracle of his time. So, starting with the easy ones/Flame types-

Mors - Sky. Not ... not a very nice Sky mind you, but I HC that he WAS a Sky, a dedicated and clever Sky that inspired loyalty despite his “necessary cruelties”. Sorta like Nono and Luce in KHR, but like- more competent and scary. Still not a good person, and nowhere near as powerful as Regina magic-wise, but a Sky nonetheless.

Hadrian Amicitia - Storm. Inverted, probably, and you’re right I think most Amicitias are generally Storms or a Storm-mix. Hadrian is only a year older than Mors so they grew up together, and of all of them Hadrian is arguably the most instinctively loyal, has been basking in Mors magic the longest.

Vita - Rain. Very gentle Classic Rain and not to sound like a stereotypical sap but this woman was like- 80% of Mors kindness and moral restraint from the day they met to the day she died. If Vita had been around when Cor “Murder Child” Leonis got himself recruited into the Crownsguard, she would have convinced Mors to either kick him right back out or put the boy on the Reserve forces until he was of proper age, prodigy or no prodigy (or possibly, as a last resort if Mors was being stubborn, claimed Cor as a bodyguard herself, because she usually doesn’t leave the Citadel and would have had the chance to Properly Mother This Boy under the guise of taking care of her fearless bodyguard). They were an arranged marriage and knew that fact since they Mors was 18 and Vita was 12, but came to love each other anyway as they grew up and then later were married. Basically Mors only real soft spot was perfectly Vita shaped and after she was gone everyone suffered.

Ventus Scientia - Not Ignis’s grandad but rather his granduncle. Very, very much a Mist. Was born the same year Mors was so he was also raised alongside Mors from a young age. All the Scientia genius honed into a very logical, pragmatic edge without anywhere near the mothering and natural kindness Ignis shows. Should have been the one to call Mors on his more outrageous behavior, but instead just guided Mors into being sneaky about it behaviors instead (”A King serves the greater good of his kingdom” is not a phrase Mors came up with, that was from Ventus, trying to channel Mors more manipulative tendencies into something productive and beneficial).

And now my official new favorite of this impromptu cast-

Bellica Argentum - Inverted Lightning like WHOO. Plus a very, very interesting backstory. Like- Officially, Bellica was hired as Mors secretary after the last one turned out to be an assassin from Niflheim. Officially, she was just an ordinary, pretty Lucian citizen who worked her way through college and landed a lucky break by getting an interview to be Mors new secretary. Was generally regarded by outside viewers as Mors personal mistress/toy for when he was on the road and away from his wife Vita, since she was occasionally seen leaving Mors rooms at various late hours of the night.

Everything official is a LIE. Mors never had a Sword like Cor, Mors had a silver dagger and he won her in one of the craziest ways imaginable. Lemme tell you what UNOFFICIALLY happened:

-Unofficially, Bellica Argentum was originally neither Bellica, nor Argentum, but rather Imperial Agent 516 of Besithia stock. Unofficially when she was young and pretty and an up and coming agent, they gave her a disguise and a new, non-Argentum codename and sent her off to try to assassinate Crown Prince Mors, which she decided to accomplish by becoming his secretary first. Unofficially she served under him for just under a year before he finally started to treat her like something other than mobile, paper-signing furniture and instead began to watch her with half-lidded, curious, greedy eyes. Unofficially, she took that chance and rolled with it, letting herself be seduced by Prince Mors, lured into his bedchamber, and then trying to stab him.

-This didn’t work. Because he had known for months that she was actually a Nif agent and had gotten tired of waiting for her to try something, so instead he had BAITED her into trying something.

-If it hadn’t been for Hadrian hiding in the walk-in closet and Ventus running in with a hi-elixir, she would have succeeded anyway.

-Pinned in place by a furious Hadrian, she fully expects to be brutally killed. Or interrogated and then brutally killed. She is an assassin after the Crown Prince after all, and she has failed.

-Instead, Mors sits up, shifts clear of the pool of (his) blood, crouches down in front of her with glittering silver eyes that were just as fascinated and greedy as they’d been when he’d been “seducing her”, and SMILES.

-“You’re amazing,” he tells her, “truly amazing. I knew exactly what you were and were going to try and you still almost killed me.” Hadrian growls angrily at the reminder and Mors waves his protest away. The woman who will someday be known as Bellica Argentum feels ... something coil around her soul. Poking and prodding and CALLING in a way that makes her shudder (the trainers had never trained her for this. They’d never said LC magic could weave through her very being like this).

-Mors tilts his head, suddenly very, very inhuman, his silver eyes gleaming, his torso still covered in drying blood from where she’d stabbed him about five times, “What would it take,” he murmurs, deep and dark and coaxing, “for you to be mine for real?” He leans in, magic curling more tightly around her heart and soul and throat as he purrs, “What could I give you, to make you loyal to me and me alone. Not to Niflheim, not to Lucis, but to me?”

-It’s not a question she should answer. It’s not one that’s supposed to have an answer at all. She’s supposed to be LOYAL to Niflheim, she’s been raised to be an agent since almost before she could remember. But- but she does remember. And there is something she WANTS more than anything else. Something that Mors magic teases out of her soul and past her clenched teeth, something she spits in his face because she is sure he will mock her for it before he kills her.

-“Family,” she spits, “Children of my own, to raise as civilians. Children who will never have to know my scars, who will grow up happy and free rather than stolen away to be tools in a never-ending war. A husband who will care for them and not ask questions of me, an old age I can spend as a grandmother, doting on the little ones that come after.”

-And Mors smiles, sharp and satisfied, “I can do that,” he purrs, runs his knuckles down the side of her cheek and tucks some of her tousled hair behind one ear, “I can give you that. I will give you a husband who will ask no questions, I will bury your past so that it cannot touch your children, I will let you retire to be a grandmother who dotes on her little ones until you are ancient and white-haired and death takes you in your sleep. I will give you a future,” he whispers, deep and silky, magic tugging and curling around her possessively as his fingers drift down to brush the hollow of her throat, “and I will ensure that no man or woman, Lucian or Niflheim, ever thinks for a moment that your children are anything more than wealthy, upstanding citizens of Insomnia, born of a wealthy and upstanding Insomnian couple.”

-“All you have to do, little dagger. Is be mine. My assassin, my liar, my silver knife in the shadows until the age of your retirement comes and I let you go to your reward. How old are you- twenty, right? Give me your complete loyalty, and the next fifteen years of your life, and I will give you everything you desire.”

-It’s a daemon’s deal. But she WANTS and she knows the alternative is a brutal death. She says yes, feels something inside her JERK into place, feels heavy magic curl and settle next to her heart like a claim and a warning all in one. Mors laughs and Ventus and Hadrian both sigh.

-Mors names her Bellica Argentum, and she spends the next fifteen years of her life as his secretary and his best, most prized, and unendingly loyal assassin. The next fifteen years of her life are stained in blood at Mors’ command, with Mors’ magic a second heartbeat and promise and warning all at once in her chest that drives her on-on-on. Twelve years in and Mors introduces her to a wealthy, non-noble citizen of Insomnia, a kind, ordinary man with some business ties to the Citadel (a tailor perhaps, or the merchant who supplies the tailors with their silks). An ordinary, gentle man that Bellica has no trouble convincing to marry her.

-Thirty-five years old, fifteen years after that night to the day, and Mors stops asking her to take on assassination missions, treats her only as the favored secretary her cover story says she is, pays her as richly as ever and congratulates her on her first pregnancy with genuine warmth in his silver-edged eyes. Her children grow up civilian and successful, happy and free and oblivious to their mother’s past, or the fate that would have awaited them in Niflheim (shuffled off into one military position or another for the Glory of the Empire, trained as weapons and sacrificed as broken tools).

-She is old and silvering when her eldest son and his wife come to her and shyly introduce their child, an adopted little one they carefully do not say was given to them by one Cor Leonis because their family are trusted as the descendants of Mors favored secretary (she already knows, she may be retired but she still has contacts, and they tell her everything). She is old, but her sight is still keen, and she sees the blond hair and pale blue eyes, the little freckles as he grows and his unnaturally keen hand-eye coordination, his obsessive attention to detail that manifests in his love of photography.

-Besithia stock, she knows. She was just like that herself at his age.

-She supports and loves him until the day she passes on in her sleep, regrets only that her eldest son and his wife are so busy all the time that Prompto will surely be lonely without her there and with her other children living in Lestallum and Accordo, fulfilling their dreams but distanced from their eldest sibling who was content to take over his father’s business. But ... that will be alright. She has seen the way Prompto is exercising and driving himself to get fit now, heard him shyly ask her what the royal family was like, and how to befriend a Prince.

-He is Besithia stock. But he is also Argentum. And like her, the first Argentum, he will find his Lucis Caelum prince, and he will give everything to that prince in return for his heart’s greatest desire.

-Not a bad way for the story to end, in the mind of an assassin who wanted only to be a mother and grandmother. 

[daily-dose-of-imagines]

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Matchup ♥

Heyo!! Hope you are all doing well! and I HOPE YOURE TAKING GOOD CARE OF YOURSELVES ♡︎ 

Heyooo! I would like to request matchups for Inuyasha, Fairytail, and Fire Force, please!♡´･ᴗ･`♡

I am a heterosexual female!

I’m a Leo, and a combination of ENFP/ENTP (if that helps with characterization), but I’m becoming more ambivert as the days go by. But I still act like a crackhead (making up new words, making random sound effects out of boredom and roasting people playfully, having airhead moments, for examples) and a lot of people irl do get put off at how “obnoxious” I can get, but I do know when to “flip the switch” and become serious/quiet.

I have really low standards for humor idk I laugh at my own jokes it’s honestly astounding, but cursed memes/images are somethin else💀 Dark jokes are always open in my ally👀

Ironically, I canNOT stand horror, I will legit be so paranoid or freaked out and start overthinking and just cry and DIE—

I’m very open, almost TOO open, but ask me literally anything and I’ll usually tell everyone my honest opinions/thoughts, but I know how to deliver words tactfully and articulately. Debating, (public) speaking, writing, and understanding concepts are my strong suits; likewise I suck ass at math (I have no idea how tf I passed my Calc ap exams, I just— 😭)

Speaking of writing, I write poems whenever I feel like it, I have a whole collection HAH. My love of expressing comes from my tendency to play the devil’s advocate in interpreting and arguing for almost all perspectives in topics. So you can probably guess how I don’t get offended really easily and welcome both playful and serious banter (despite the crackhead persona, I’m very observant of people and their values expressed and how they tick, so I know when to back off especially when they get uncomfortable with my aggressive debating/personality). Need advice? I can use what I’ve gathered from different people and help anyone in their particular situations.

I know I can be overwhelming to alot of people at first impressions and I CAN get very passionate when talking about many things that might scare the hell out of people, but if they tell me to tone it down, I’ll gladly do so; again, I’ll honestly notice if they’re not comfy with it/are overwhelmed based on body language and even from the way they text…. super intuition or something?

And speaking of expression, I love fashion and makeup! I love being able to express myself through use of presentation and have fun while doing it! hehe (k-fashion, asian beauty 👀) HELL YEAH I’M DOWN FOR SHOPPING—

I like to dance yeehaw, and I was on a competitive dance team (well that was before when the corona hit the milly rock a little TOO hard and put all the dancers out of commission😔🤝😭) I’ve also been in my own highschool’s dance club for 4 years!!

I’m a console gamer :0 Big fan of winding down with video games, but books are the best if games aren’t an option.

Music is a huge part of my life; I played the flute and the viola for years before and been surrounded by music through dancing as well; while I’ve been in a choir before, my vocals aren’t stellar oof, but at least I’m not tone-deaf.

Can’t cook to save a life ooooof, that’s where my airheadness REALLY kicks in. I literally burn myself making instant :>

I’m not phased by sexual innuendos/conversations/kinks because I see them objectively as unique characteristics of every person, but I’ll crack up at a sex joke or a cringe flirt line with friends. And like I’ve said, I’ll share them myself without objection if ANYONE asks. But the moment someone actually TRIES to make a move on me (like what!!¡¿), I’ll first play it casual but then bolt for the door because it’s hard for me to actually imagine that ANY guy would see me in a romantic light LOL but i’d get used to the advances quick and if it’s someone i liked back, i’d tease them the same or raise up the antics ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

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Hello and thank you for submitting with us! I hope that you are also taking good care of yourself as well, and I also sincerely hope that you like who I match you up with!

I’m sorry this is so late!

>Admin 𝕋

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𝐼 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽…

I ship you with the sweet Arthur! I feel as though with your energetic personality and his somewhat energetic yet dimwitted personality could really mesh well! If your humor is everywhere and lowbrow, then you should see Arthur’s! Your and his sense of humor are quite alike, and you both can definitely laugh at the weirdest things, but it’s cute! He will think you are cute because of it! And Arthur, he is open minded too, he is a very accepting person, and he would be very accepting of you and your quirks! And he will also be impressed that you can be so articulate, unlike him lolol. 

He will think it is so cool that you write poetry for fun, and how you love expressing yourself through the arts. He may not fully understand the extent of your content, but he will understand that they are very important to you, and will cherish them too! Arthur will love the fact that you are so intuitive and observant of people, because well, he isn’t. That’s why he think you are so cool, because he wouldn’t be able to pick up on those types of cues! He will also be so impressed with your fashion and how you express yourself through clothes! Arthur will definitely like if you wear medieval inspired clothing! A queen for his king!

He will think being in a dance group would be so cool! He himself can’t dance to save his life, but he would love for you to teach him, so that he can get good enough for you to dance with him! Arthur will also love the fact that you love games! He loves playing them, and would like to play with you! He would show off his favorite video games to you! 

You’d tell him that music is important to you, and how you play the flute, and he’d definitely relate it to the medieval times in some way, and would want to hear you play something from that time. And when you do, he would find it amazing, impressed with how well you play!

All in all, with his own airheadedness and bravery, Arthur would be such a good fit for you! He is kind, and warm, and someone that you can rely on when you need someone to lean on! He will be impressed with everything you can do that he can’t! Arthur will treasure you as his Queen!

I choose manly and chivalrous Koga as your Inuyasha boyfriend! I know this might seem like a good pair, but when I was reading through your description the first person that came to mind was Koga. He is someone that can be super serious in one second and super lighthearted in the next! He will see your airheadedness as something that is cute and charming, but he will also appreciate the fact that you are super observant and have great intuition! He would love for someone like that to be his wolf tribe leader wife! He would love to use your power to help the tribe communicate better! He will see it as a very beneficial characteristic and will be quite impressed!

Koga wouldn’t understand the notion of poetry, or reading, or writing, but when you explain to him, he will then think that it is pretty cool. Something that he wouldn’t actively pursue, but he will see that it is something that you very much enjoy and will do anything in his power to make sure that you have the tools you need so that you can properly be artistic! He will also see that your artistic expression also goes to your clothes and makeup and would be very impressed with the fact that you work it so well! He would comment saying that he could never look that good in makeup, saying you are the most beautiful he has ever seen in it, you just do it so well!

I believe that once Koga founds out that you dance and play flute, he will get super happy. Seeing as he the leader of a big demon tribe, he will have the need for entertainment in his down time, and guess what! You’re the entertainment, but in a good way! He will want to listen to you play the flute, and see what kind of melodies you play! Later on, he will have someone else who can play, so he can dance and teach you traditional demon wolf tribe dances!

All in all, Koga is more serious and calm, but with your loud energy and kind-hearted soul, he will just be sucked in by it. You will be the one to show him how to really have a good time, and you will be able to show him that sometimes you just need to take a breather and forget about the difficulties in life, especially when you are a demon leader!

I chose the loud and energetic Natsu of Fairy Tail to be your boyfriend! Seeing as you are super energetic and he is super energetic and loud, you guys would be the perfect pair! Natsu will see that you are so boisterous and can’t stay in the same place for a long time, because he is the same. So he will feel a sense of bonding! When it comes to you being serious and quiet, and knowing when to be, he will think it is really cool of you, only because he doesn’t have a filter, and doesn’t know when to shut up, so maybe you can teach him a few tricks! 

When he sees how open you are, he will feel happy about that! He has been in dark times, and so have many of his friends, so when he knows that you are accepting of any type of person, he will love that, and would feel comfortable introducing you to his friends! Natsu will also be surprised yet impressed with the fact that you are so observant. He is only really observant when it comes to battle, and not really when it comes to people in everyday settings, so when you show him what you can do, he will have a shocked expression the entire time! He will also love the fact that on the other end of the spectrum you can be very loud and passionate!

When he sees you are very artistic with poetry, writing, and reading, and even with your makeup and fashion, it would show him that you aren’t afraid to express yourself and be yourself, and he would absolutely love that! He will want to see the things you write, and the things you read, and the things that make you you, so he can get a better understanding of you! And when it comes to the dancing and the music, and the fact that you can play the flute, he would be impressed and hella jealous that you can do such amazing things! He would definitely ask you teach him in the future!

All in all, I think that he would be a very loving and very accepting boyfriend for you! He will take you on all of his adventures and tell you all of his secrets, and treat you like treasure, like you deserve to be treated!

[aescapisms]

serendipity [2]

pairing: bucky barnes x reader word count: 4.1k warning: few curse words a/n: please read dalliance before reading this

dalliance ← serendipity→ saudade 

serendipity (n.) the chance occurrence of events in a beneficial way

Bucky didn’t want to be late.

He woke up at 6 ate, showered and finally dressed up. His first day in this new university and he’s excited. He just moved into town and is now living in an apartment far from the university but at least its accessible for commuting. So, he hopped on a bus to the subway and hoped for nothing but a good day ahead.

It didn’t happen though. The train was crowded and as soon as he got out he tripped and fell. Luckily someone was able to catch him. “Are you okay? Fuck. That was close.” Bucky looked at the girl standing infront of him holding him up by his waist. The first thing he noticed were your hands holding his metal arm. He noticed the way that you didn’t even react to it, not once. The next thing were your eyes, you had such beautiful eyes that the stars in the night sky doesn’t even compare to the twinkle in your eyes. Once he was able to stand up properly he heard you mutter ‘Oh no’ as she looked down on her shirt. Coffee stains. Bucky felt guilty. “Shit, I can buy you a new shirt. I’m so sorry. Here’s a handkerchief.”

“Don’t worry about it. Uhh, do you by any chance, have a spare shirt on your bag? All the shops around here are closed and I can’t walk around looking like this.” Bucky nodded and grabbed the shirt that he brought with him. He was supposed to go out with Steve later to celebrate their first days so he brought a change of clothes but someone else needed it. “Here. I’m really sorry about that.”

“It’s okay no worries.” You assured him as you grabbed the shirt in his hands. “I have to go now though. I’m going to be late.” Bucky was busy taking his wallet to pay you for compensation but when he looked up you were gone. He wanted to chase after you but he was short on time and he didn’t know how to. So he just went on his way but the thought of you never left his mind.

He went to greet Steve who was waiting for him in front of the gates of the university. “What took you so long? Thought you’d be here earlier?” Bucky told him about what happened as they walked into the faculty center and Steve just laughed “Maybe that’s a sign that your day will be shit.”

“God I hope not.” Bucky muttered as he closed the door to his office. He was working fulltime so he was given an office. He grabbed his schedule for the day and went to his classes. He had one in the morning and two in the afternoon. It was a shitty schedule but at least he has some free time.

At lunch Steve dropped by and brought some food with him. “Some of my students tried asking me for my number. They even volunteered to be my assistant for the sake of getting my number. So I had to get a guy for the job.”

Bucky stared at him “Do…Do we need to get a class representative?” Steve nodded and explained that it would be such a hassle to talk to everyone in class so it’s better to just assign someone that you can have a direct contact to and have them deliver the news and reports to the rest of the class.

He hadn’t thought of that. But it was a good plan. “Wasn’t able to do that for my previous class but will definitely do it for my next ones.” He muttered and thanked Steve for the idea.

“Man, I really can’t believe that we’re professors now. I didn’t even like school when I was a teenager.” Steve muttered as he cleaned up the table.

“Well, you’ve always wanted to be an artist why did you even pursue teaching?” Bucky asked as he threw his trash onto the garbage bin. Steve didn’t say anything because he didn’t have to. Bucky knows exactly why Steve pursued teaching. He wanted to change the world and teaching was the best way to do it. But just because it’s the best way doesn’t mean that he likes it.

“Alright. I’m going to go to my class. Catch you later.” Grabbing his stuff he went outside and made his way to the building he’s supposed to teach in. While he was busy staring at his schedule he bumped into someone running and heard the person say “I’m so sorry. Forgive me.” She didn’t even spare a look in his direction and continued running. His breath hitched as he watched her run off into the field. The sound of her voice and the color of her shirt sounding and looking all too familiar.

He walked into the class with such poise and dignity that the students stopped what they were all doing and quickly sat down. He always looked intimidating, but he figured that he was much scarier and intimidating now that he had his long sleeves folded up his elbows showing everyone his metal arm.

“Good afternoon.” He said and grabbed the teacher’s table to the middle and sat on the edge. “No need to write anything down for today. It’s just the orientation and I know how much you guys hate lectures on the first day of class.” Everyone’s tensed shoulders dropped down and a few ‘Fuck yes’ was heard in the room.  “Alright, so as you al know I’ll be your professor on Social Psychology. I’m Bucky Barnes. Please address me formally. Professor, Sir or Mr. Barnes. And No, I will not answer to Bucky. Or Barnes.” Half of the class laughed but the other half was still trying to gauge what kind of professor he is. “Alright, the floor is now open for any questions whatsoever. Ask away.”

He scanned the room of about 60 people and called on people who raised their hands to ask questions. He was interrupted when the backdoor opened and someone crouch-walked trying to find an empty seat without being disrespectful to the person in front of them. He recognized you immediately. Of course he did, you were wearing his favorite shirt. How can he not recognize you?

“I’m a pretty chill teacher. It’s not hard to pass this course. You’ll only have 2 major exams for this class. Midterms and your finals. Class participation is very important I give points for recitations, but don’t worry it’s voluntary I don’t like calling on people.”

The guy in front raised his hand, “Uhh, I was wondering if it’s oaky to ask about your arm.”

Bucky smiled, “Yes of course. Well uh, I was involved in a nasty accident 2 years ago. Fortunately my friend knows King T’Challa and well his sister is a genius and made me this arm. No I don’t feel anything in this arm. So there you go. What else?”

Bucky was hoping that you would ask a question but you didn’t. Maybe that was for the best, because your voice does something to his heart and that is not good especially considering where the both of you are at the moment.

“Are you single, Sir?” Bucky nodded and looked back at you wondering if you were as curious as the rest of the class. “I am single but, I don’t date men.” Everyone laughed especially when he asked How about students sir?

He looked at you and his heart skipped a beat when he found out that you were looking at him too, he gave you a quick smile that made you blush and stare back at your notes. “No, I can’t. It’s against the rules.” Bucky gave out a small laugh when he found you still looking down at your desk with your hands covering your face, clearly trying to hide the embarrassment you had from him smiling at you.

“Alright, before you guys go, I want you to sign an attendance sheet. Put your name and email alright?” He announced to the class. He walked up to the person in the front row and gave out the form. “Here pass it around.  Everyone stay on your seat.”

Once the paper was passed around, the last person had to give it back to him. And that person happened to be you. Bucky didn’t want to admit that it was all planned, but it was. The only hitch in the plan that he didn’t see coming was a girl coming up to her and volunteering to give the paper to him.

In retrospect, maybe that was the universe telling him to stop it before it’s too late.

Later that day, Steve and Bucky went to the Roadhouse to get some food and celebrate their first day. “Was it all that bad as I hoped it would be for your first day?” Steve asked.

Remembering the fact that you were his student made him sigh, “Yes, you dickwad.”

It was going to be alright though, with your university schedule of only 4 days of academic classes and another one for extra curricular he’ll only see you twice a week not even in succeeding days your schedule with him was Tuesday and Thursday. For an hour and a half. And he can handle that right?

Wrong. He was wrong on both accounts.

Because you were also on his Wednesday class. Oh this is going to be torture.

Bucky introduced himself again and answered the questions, basically the same routine that he had from his class the previous day. At the end of the class he noticed that you walked right up to him. “Hello Sir.” You spoke as you got closer to him. “You might not remember me, but I’m actually in your class yesterday. I was wondering if I could volunteer myself as the class representative.” Bucky was surprised by your sudden proposal. “I mean, I’m in both of your classes so I think it would be much easier for you and for me as well.”

He raised his eyebrow and asked, “What do you mean easier for you?”

You lowered your notebook on the desk and told him, “Well, I’m an irregular student. This is actually my last subject as I’m finishing my thesis as well.”

“Wouldn’t that actually be a hindrance for you?” Bucky asked as he fixed some of the papers on his desk and watched as you shook your head. “No, Sir. Well, both these sections are actually block sections. I’m the only irregular student and I really don’t trust these little kids to do a good job of giving out the necessary information to the whole class.”  Bucky smiled at your snarky comment “You are one of those kids you know.”

“No. I’m two years ahead of them.” You said as you finished explaining everything “So, will that be alright sir?”

He should say no. Because if he said yes, it would mean that he would have to be in constant communication with you. If he said yes, he would spend more time with you than he needs to. If he said yes he would find ways to actually spend time with you. If he said yes you will shake up his heart in ways he never thought it could be shaken.

“Of course.” He said as he smiled at you. He watched as your lips curled up and your face lit up when he agreed. His heart swelled a thousand times over. “ Please give me your contact details so I can send you the syllabus. Drop by my office later so I can give you the list of the students from both sections.”

Damn it. How can he be so weak?

A few weeks later the two of you have fell into a rhythm of constant communication.

You would ask him insights about your thesis which you will be defending and he would ask you advice regarding his teaching style. You were a student was more in touch with the class and he wanted to teach as well as he could.

“Hello Sir.” You said as you opened the door to Bucky’s office. Bucky looked at you as he tried to fix the papers in front of him. “Oh hi, Y/N. You came just in time—”

“Need a hand, Sir?” You asked and Bucky stared at you. It took you a while and when what you said finally clicked, “Oh no. Fuck. I’m so sorry sir. I didn’t—” Bucky was now howling with laugher.

“Yes, Y/N” He said between the laughs “I do need a hand. An arm actually.” And continued laughing.

You looked down and covered your now red face from embarrassment. Bucky found it adorable though. He found you adorable. The past few weeks you and Bucky have spent time working on your thesis. He had offered to be your backstage adviser and you graciously accepted. The two of you would often meet in his office to work on your paper. He would also give you advice in regards to the defense proper. In that time he noticed your little quirks. The way you would spin your pen between your fingers when you’re in deep thought. Or, the way that your eyes would widen every time you read something interesting that could help your paper. Even the way that you would drink your coffee and regret it instantly because it was scalding hot. He learned these things about you and he just fell deeper in love.

You were his student.

It was wrong.

But the way that you laughed at his jokes and looked at him with such adoration made everything that he felt with you so…right.

Bucky finally had the courage to ask you about the shirt.

“Huh? What shirt?” you asked not looking up from what you were reading. Figures, you didn’t remember. “The shirt I lent you when I ruined yours on the first day of school.” That got your attention. With wide eyes you stared at Bucky. “That was you?”

“Yes. I was wondering when you’d like to give my shirt back. I mean it’s fine with me if you want to keep it—” Bucky mentally cursed himself. That was downright flirting. Damn it. He wanted to slap himself for being so weak around you. “I mean, it’s really okay.”

“I’m going to give it back I promise. I’m sorry, I just…. I have a really bad eyesight. And I wasn’t wearing my glasses that day, so I really didn’t know that it was you. I’m sorry.” You muttered as you fiddled with the pages of the book that you were holding.  “Uh, sir. Sorry, I keep on forgetting.”

Bucky coughed, which broke the tension that was brewing in the room. “No worries, Ms. Y/L/N. Anyways, it’s getting late. I should probably walk you back to the station before it gets dark out here. And besides, ” Bucky looked out of the window “I think it’s going to rain.”  

You stood up and grabbed your bag “No need…sir.” She said sir as if it was very unusual for her to call Bucky that. “I can get by on my own.”

“Please, I insist.”

And Bucky did just that. He carried your laptop bag and walked you to the station. “Thank you, but you really didn’t have to.”

“Of course I had to.” Bucky replied, “I’m responsible for what happens to my student.”

Something in your demeanor changed, you looked…sad. But you quickly regained composure and smiled at Bucky. “Of course, Professor.”  Bucky stopped in his tracks, that was the first time that you had called him professor. You were never that formal with him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. You shook your head, and took out your umbrella and gave it to him. “It’s going to start raining soon.” You entire demeanor with him changed. You were suddenly so cold, and closed off.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” He asked as he grabbed your hand. You just smiled at him and pried his hand off. “Professor. My bus is here, thank you for your input in my thesis. I have to go. Have a safe trip.”

And then you left.

And it started raining hard.

As if you leaving him like that wasn’t bad enough.

Bucky did not see you alone for the next few days.

You showed up in his classes but you never once took the chance to actually talk to him. Bucky knew that you were purposely avoiding him, he just didn’t know why.

The two of you were scheduled to meet during lunch to work on your thesis but you didn’t show up so he had to eat with Steve.

And on his third bite, he suddenly felt dizzy and collapse on the sofa.

Avoiding your Professor was hard.

But hiding the fact that you were in love with him was harder.

You volunteered to be the class representative in order to be closer to him, and you got what you wanted. There were times that you pretended that he wasn’t your professor and you weren’t his student. But boy did that backfire.

Because all it did was give you hope and hope, is a drug that’s hard to get away from. Everytime the two of you accidentally touch you felt electricity coursing through your veins and in straight to your heart. You were falling, and you were falling fast.

And it was easy, it was so easy falling in love with Bucky.

But there was still that huge barrier, you were his student. And that time in the station reminded you of that. Even though you know what he said was true, you were still hurt. It was different, when you actually heard it from his own lips.

So when you finally set your mind straight you decided to pay him a visit. You had the shirt that he gave you in your back pack and you wanted to give it to him. But you arrived to an empty office.

So you decided to wait outside and send him a text.

“Professor? I’m here outside your office with some of the papers from yesterday and your shirt.”

But he didn’t reply. Which was weird, because he always replied instantly.

“Y/N? Why are you here?” Steve Rogers asked you. You know him, Bucky talked about him often and he would visit the two of you and give you insights about the things you have to do to impress the panel in your thesis defense. “I’m waiting for Professor Barnes, Sir.”

“He’s not here. He collapsed yesterday and I advised him to take a day off. Do you have some important papers that you need to give him?”

You nodded, he collapsed? “Which hospital is he staying at?”

“He doesn’t like hospitals. He’s at his apartment. I’d offer to bring the papers to him but I have to leave later.”

“Oh it’s okay Sir. I can probably give it to him.” Steve looked at you and nodded “I can give you his address, I also need you to bring something to him.”

It was soup. Steve Rogers wanted to give his best friend some soup in hopes that it would cheer his spirits up. You smiled, because it was nice seeing a friendship like that between people.

You quickly went to the classroom and wrote the announcement of free-cut on the board and went on your way to Bucky’s house.

You didn’t knock.

The door was slightly opened so you pushed it slowly and you saw Bucky sleeping on the couch some instant noodles on the table infront of him.

You sighed and closed the door behind you. His apartment was small, but livable. It didn’t seem like the apartment of a university teacher though, it was all too…simple. The only furniture that he had was the couch and the table. No television. No radio. Nothing.

You went straight to the kitchen to unpack the things that Steve asked you to bring, transferring it to a bowl you took it to the living room and woke Bucky.

“Sir? Wake up.” Nothing. “Sir, it’s me. Y/N.”

His eyes fluttered and his head snapped at you. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“I heard you were sick… and Steve, I mean Professor Rogers asked me to give you some soup. Come on, sit up. I’m going to feed you some.” He groaned as you puled him up to sit properly on the couch. “Here.”

“You shouldn’t be here. I can take care of myself.”

“Professor.” You said as you grabbed the soup in the table “With all due respect, you can barely sit up on your own. So eat the damn soup so you can get better.”

It was an unusual sight, you walking around Bucky’s apartment but he felt happy.

He felt much better than he did yesterday. Apparently, he had caught a cold and well, collapsed.

You cleaned up the mess that he made and started cooking some dinner. “I’m sorry for acting the way I did the past few days, sir.” You said while you were in the kitchen washing the dishes.

Bucky stared at you and pulled the blanket around him. “It’s okay.” He replied “It seems like I’ve been putting so many things on your plate.”

“No sir, It wasn’t that. It was a personal problem that I brought with me in an academic setting. I’m sorry.” You confessed, and now Bucky was confused.

“Are you okay now? Maybe I can help? I am four years older than you so I can probably help.” That made you smile. Bucky’s heart started racing. God damn, the effect that you had on him. You’ve only known each other for 2 and a half months and yet, you had this much of an effect on him.

“Well, it’s uhh..” you glanced at Bucky before continuing “I kinda fell for someone I’m not supposed to fall for.”

Bucky’s heart sped up faster than it ever did before. He thought he would collapse again. By any chance, did you fall for him as well? Was his feeling s not one sided?

“What do you mean, you’re not supposed to fall for?” Bucky asked slowly, of course he won’t ask it out right if you were actually talking about him. Because that would be a huge problem if you weren’t talking about him.

“Like, it’s wrong. I mean, I can’t be with him.” You muttered as you dried continued washing the dishes. Bucky stood up and walked towards the kitchen counter.

You jumped when he asked “Why can’t you be with him?”

“Shit I didn’t know that you were there.” Bucky just smiled at you, “Well, we can’t be together because we just really can’t. And besides, I don’t even know if he likes me back or what not.”

“Have you tried asking?”

You scoffed and turned to look at him. “Yeah sure. I’ll ask him once you ask the person you like if they like you back. Sir, it’s not that easy. Alright?”

“Do you want me to ask the person I like if they like me back? So you can ask the person you like?” Bucky asked and took a step closer to you. He noticed the way your breath hitched everytime he took a step. The two of you are now staring into each other’s eyes. He was close enough to hear your breath, he saw the way your hands gripped the kitchen countertop. Trying to hold it back from doing something you might regret. “…Y/N.”

That was it. You placed your hand around his neck and pressed your lips together, it didn’t last long. You pulled away and quickly apologized. “I’m so sorry, sir. I really am. Fuck…I’m really sor—”  

You would’ve continued your rambling but Bucky said “I’m not. I’m not sorry. I’ve liked you the moment I set my eyes on you on the subway. Look, Y/N. I thought you were beautiful the moment I laid my eyes on you but after getting to know you I realized that you were more than just a beautiful face. You have a wonderful heart and you just amaze me every single time that I’m with you. And as time passed by I didn’t notice that I was already in love wit—”

You didn’t let him finish what he was saying and threw your arm around his neck and kissed him once more. This time Bucky pulled you closer, you’ll deal with the consequences later. But right now, there’s only the two of you. 

dalliance ← serendipity→ saudade

→ pick your poison

[mccartneysguitar]

fake love

pairings: paul mccartney x reader

word count: 1.8k

request: speaking of a fake dating fic, do you think you could do a paul x reader where he has to date her to “improve his image” or something and then all the other boys start to notice that he actually really likes her

sorry for ghosting on all of you, I was on spring break but I am back now ✌🏽

You were unsure when your publicist told you the scheme he had concocted with Brian Epstein, the manager for The Beatles. Brian, for the most part, allowed the boys run free, not hovering over them like a nanny.  This time though the recent scandal was reaching new heights and was worried over the perception of the boys, he had to come up with a plan that would keep their image intact.

The Beatles were a phenomenon over in Britain but it had yet to reach the same height in the US which is where your star status would help them. You had just started your career in Hollywood and while you were well known in the US, there was not much recognition overseas. It was a beneficial transaction and nothing more than that, as long as you kept all feelings out of it you would be fine.

That was how you found yourself in London, it was your first time there and you couldn’t help but stare out the window in awe. The ride to their studio did not take as long as you would have expected, their traffic did not compare to what you usually faced.

Once you arrived at their studio you were a bit underwhelmed. It was nothing like the flashy Hollywood studios. Following your publicist inside you noticed their album covers lined the hallway alongside photographs of them. You had to admit they were a handsome group and there could be worse people to be ‘dating’. A part of you was nervous, not knowing much about them other than their good looks and a couple of their songs.

In the recording room, Paul was sitting next to John focused intently on the papers in front of him. George and Ringo were off on the other side of the room, playing with what you believe were marbles? In those few moments of observations, you were able to see a lot of their personality shine through, the workaholics and the relaxed ones.

Brian made his way over, shaking your hand, “I’m so glad you were able to make it. I hope you found your flight enjoyable?”

You nodded, “Yes, I was able to catch up on my sleep and read up a bit. This is my first time in London and I have to say it is not quite what I expected. Thank you for having us.”

“That’s great to hear, hopefully, once you have time to explore it will meet all your expectations. Boys, please do pay attention. This is YN, remember the talk we had. Best behavior please.” He called over through the speaker. Three pair of heads snapped to attention, with one of them seemingly glaring at you. You entered the room to properly introduce yourself, smiling shyly at them.

“Oh don’t worry about John. He doesn’t have his glasses that’s why he’s staring at you like a mad man. I’m George and this is Ringo.” He remarked with a grin. You, of course, knew who they were and nodded.

“That one over there lost in his world is your prince charming, Paul.” Ringo chimed in. You grimaced at his statement unable to control your reaction. They caught on to your reaction and let out a roar of laughter, catching the attention of Paul. He was, after all, a well-known player and you did not want to be a name in his back book, you were here for your job and nothing else.

You managed a small smile and introduced yourself to Paul. Just as you were going to ask him a question Brian and your publicist came into the room, ready to mediate the oncoming conversation. They all knew of the situation and how the press had a field day with his escapades. YN was being brought in to change that, Hollywood’s sweetheart, would surely not be dating a philanderer.

“Now YN has a premiere coming up. If YN were to take Paul as her date that would bring a lot of attention to the couple.”

“Yes, and as for Paul’s commitments having YN appear at the concerts and be seen around with him in London would be more than enough.”

“What about me and Ringo? “

Brian just sighed already tired of their antics, “What about you and Ringo?”

“Does YN have any model friends she can introduce us to? I don’t think its fair Paul gets to have all the fun.” George whined. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“You know with a face like yours I don’t think my friends will mind at all.” You said with a wink.

Paul cleared his throat and said, “We start our tour in the coming week, I reckon you should visit me on a couple of stops? This is also your first time in London, I hear. Do you want a tour?”

You turned to your publicist as if asking for approval and nodded. “Great,” he said as he grabbed his coat. You could hear the teasing the boys were giving Paul, as he scoffed and threw them a look.

Knowing that there would be onlookers and possible photographers in the city you entwined your hand with his and excitingly pulled him along to see the streets of London. While you did appreciate having someone who knew the area with you, you always preferred to get lost in the city.

While at first, it was a bit awkward you realized he was naturally a flirt and really easy to get a long with. You realized that fake dating him wasn’t going to be hard as you thought it was, he was someone you could actually be friends with.

***

When Paul arrived at your door nearly an hour early before you were set to leave you were a bit surprised.

“I brought these for you,” he said as he handed you a bouquet of flowers.

You couldn’t help but smile as you took it from him, “These are my favorite, how did you know?”

He stuffed his hands in his pocket looking abashed he responded, “You mentioned it a while back.”

“Thank you, they are very lovely. You can come to my room, I am almost done getting ready. How are you finding California so far?” You questioned as you made your way back to your room. He followed after and took in the room, messing around with the trinkets and clothing you had lying around.

Wearing a barrage of your random accessories he sauntered over to you, “It is hotter than the last time I was here. I’m going to return permanently red at this pace. What do you say, YN? Am I ready for the red carpet?”

Stifling a laugh you responded seriously, “I think you look absolutely stunning,”

***

You knew there was going to be a lot of press at the premiere of your latest film but this was on another level. Their attention all turned to you and Paul the moment you stepped on the carpet. Their yells to pose for them or give them a smile was a roar to you.

Paul could sense your uneasiness and squeezed your hand giving you a small comforting smile. It was an instinct that you leaned forward and kissed his cheek. The look of shock and his slight blush did not escape either you or the camera.

Over the next couple of months, the press was all over your relationship, how you had tamed his ways and your favorite how you had him wrapped around your finger; which unfortunately was all a ruse. A part of you wished your relationship was real but you knew he preferred to be with his groupies and slew of random women and so you stifled your feelings and continued to play the part of his fake girlfriend.

Paul for his part had stopped with the groupies and the random flings. It wasn’t an intentional thing, no he just didn’t feel the same excitement he used to get. He was slowly falling for YN without knowing.

Paul during the last couple of shows had somehow always managed to bring up YN in conversation. They would be out exploring when Paul would happen across a candy store and mutter out, “Those are YN’s favorite candies, I should get some for her.”

“You sure you aren’t really dating her Paul?” Ringo questioned.

“No, you know this is all part of the scheme.”

“AlL pArT oF tHe ScHeMe. Sure. You talk more about her than any of your real ex-girlfriends. YN this, YN that. You’re making me jealous.” John fired out.

“He’s right ya know.”

“Shut it the lot of you.”

For the rest of the day, Paul kept thinking about what Ringo and John said. Sure he did spend a lot of with you but it was to help his image and not to mention you never failed to brighten his day. Whether it was taking a walk or just hanging out at his apartment listening to music it was never a boring time. The near-daily phone calls when he was away on tour, it had become more than the plan.

The realization of how he felt finally hit him, he loved you. Emboldened by his realization he called you from his hotel room. It rang two times before you eagerly answered, already knowing who it was.

“YN, I have to get something off my chest. I know this was all a plot but somehow along the way, I fell for you. Just your smile makes me feel things I have never felt before. When I’m away from you every little thing I see makes me think of you. I would deal with Hollywood and the California sun just to be with you every day. I think I love you, YN.” Paul blurted out not wasting any time with pleasantries.

You paused for a second taking his words. You opened your mouth to respond but it was as if you had forgotten how to speak.

“I uh- can I call you back?” You managed to mutter out before hanging up. You were overwhelmed, it felt like you were dreaming. You had to pinch yourself several times before realizing it wasn’t a dream.

***

Paul was moping in the room, playing random tunes on the piano. The day had passed by without YN calling back, he felt like an idiot ruining what he had with them by confessing. His brooding was interrupted by a series of hurried knocks.

“Leave me alone John,” he yelled out. The knocking continued.

He dragged himself from the piano to send John away but was met with YN at the door.

Before he was able to say anything YN immediately pulled him into a kiss and muttered out, “I think I love you too.”

[atopearth]

Hakuoki: Kyoto Winds Part 9 - Souma Kazue Route

Really happy to get to see how Souma joins the Shinsengumi since he didn’t have the best welcoming from them in the beginning and he hasn’t heard anything good about them in Edo either, so this will be interesting! He always seemed so dedicated and faithful to the Shinsengumi after he joined so I’m wondering what made him change his mind. I guess patrolling with Harada and seeing how the Shinsengumi really is should be enough to change his mind haha! I mean, from how Kondo handles himself by being a leader that can admit his wrongs even to others supposedly “lower” than him, and seeing how organised the Shinsengumi are and how dedicated they are to protecting the peace in Kyoto with his own eyes, it’s hard to doubt their sincerity towards protecting Kyoto. Even if their methods may seem rough on the outside, they are doing what the police should do, which is stopping these ronin from bullying the townspeople, and regardless of how badly it looks on the outside, they are doing what they think is right and what they believe to be the most beneficial to the people of Kyoto.

HAHAHA, when Souma passionately declares to Chizuru that they should work hard as underlings together and become honest and upright people just like Harada and the rest, and then when he squeezes her muscles to check whether swordsmanship really isn’t her thing🤣 Sorry to disappoint you Souma but this one is a weakling lolol. Ooh so Kondou invited Souma to join the Shinsengumi because Souma left his domain since they didn’t want to fight for the shogunate. Too bad he doesn’t join yet~ I guess similarly to Iba, Souma was disappointed in his peers in the shogunate army who were happy to be reserves and be stationed on standby and not need to fight at all. I guess for someone who is passionate about fighting for his beliefs, it is pretty disappointing to be together with these people… After all that, I’m not surprised that he’d come to the Shinsengumi, since they accept people of all kinds as long as they have the heart and strength to fight for their beliefs.

I was always never really sure what Souma’s role was in the other routes, so I’m glad to finally know that he’s actually Kondou’s page (in training) haha! And loll Kondou wants Chizuru to teach Souma stuff she’s learnt as Hijikata’s page??? Has Chizuru even learnt anything?? Has she done anything? Loll. So cute how Souma is so passionate to learn from Chizuru and even calls her senpai! Damn, Okita is the one training Souma and Nomura huh? It’s true that they need to toughen up though, so I guess the ruthless Okita that has high expectations for sword skills is a good choice haha, especially since they’re pages, so they’ll be one of the closest people to Kondou, so they have to be reliable! I find it kinda funny that they don’t care about how Chizuru isn’t training with them, especially since she’s obviously weak but is also a page lol. Wow, I know Saburo (Itou’s brother, was it?) is suspicious of Chizuru’s identity since she popped out of nowhere and no one knows much about her but the captains watch over her, but stilll, pulling her kimono to check if she really is a man is very rude regardless of what sex she is! Hehe, I liked how Souma came to her rescue and even won in a verbal fight since personal conflicts aren’t allowed in the Shinsengumi, so if someone like him whose a captain did something like that, he’d definitely get a worse punishment than Souma and Nomura! You go, Souma! Also really glad that the guys have accepted Nomura and Souma to an extent and have revealed to them that Chizuru is actually a girl lol. Lmao when they kept indirectly insulting her by saying that it’s rude to think that she could possibly be a girl😂😂

Seeing Saito and Heisuke leave is always saddening, but to see through Souma how difficult of a decision it is to leave everything you know, everything you’re familiar with, your comrades and everything you once believed in to pursue something unknown but possibly more akin to your beliefs is definitely a very hard but brave decision. Souma had to leave his domain, his life, his hometown to pursue what he believed to be the spirit of a warrior and that’s why he appreciates that he’s finally found that in the Shinsengumi after he felt so lost and dejected from losing his home and yet unable to find this spirit. It’s always so reassuring to see Souma go and protect Chizuru even though he’s probably not that strong. It’s gonna get increasingly more difficult for me to like Kazama at this rate lol, especially when he relentlessly slashed Souma and mocked him for protecting Chizuru because of some stupid pride, I was so angry and so worried and hurt for Souma, I was so scared that he’d really die right there😭 I was really touched when he stood back up and told Kazama that he’s protecting Chizuru with his life because he made a promise between men (with the Shinsengumi) that he would protect Chizuru no matter what😢😢 So glad Sanan came in time…

Now that I think about it, I’ve never chosen the option where Chizuru assists with Itou’s assassination, which I must admit is in such bad taste to witness, especially considering that although I do not like Itou’s personality or the way he acts, I do think that he is very knowledgeable and knows what he’s talking about when it comes to the advancement of Japan. It’s kinda saddening that they killed him in such a distasteful way by getting him drunk as if they were friends seeking his knowledge and then killing him afterwards. Tbh, seeing Miki (Itou’s brother) come to the Shinsengumi for revenge with his wounds but still bearing an extreme hatred to all of the Shinsengumi for doing such a thing really made me feel so uncomfortable. Regardless of the reasons for needing to kill Itou, there’s no doubt that it was done in a dirty and disgusting way and the thought of it haunts me. Miki’s hatred is justified, his disgust, his pursuit and everything, it’s just so hard to watch. Sure, they were planning on assassinating Kondou as well and probably if Hijikata didn’t do this, Kondou might have been killed, but that doesn’t mean the whole act was “acceptable”, instead, it just shows that this was an era where if you wanted your beliefs and convictions to prevail in the end, you couldn’t be too picky about the methods used. Since Souma wasn’t able to deal with him alone before Miki ran off, it seems inevitable that Miki will be back.

It was really sweet of Souma and Chizuru to offer to make Heisuke dango and buy him sake every day when he lamented that now that he’s a Fury, he won’t be able to go to tea houses or anywhere as he used to since he’s considered dead to the world. It’s not surprising that no one would want to talk about the Roshigumi (former Shinsengumi name), Serizawa (former head captain that was the boss of everyone) and Ibuki (Serizawa’s page) considering everything that transpired. Although Kondou and them ended up killing Serizawa because his methods and everything (extortion, violence towards Ibuki etc) became impossible to ignore, he was the one that used the dirty methods to keep them and their group alive at that time. And I see, Ibuki probably never left despite the abuse by Serizawa because he felt indebted to him since he was the one that picked him off the road when he had nothing else. Serizawa was also the one who introduced the Water of Life into the group and probably one of the first Furies they had to kill… It’s such a dark past… It really must be fate that Ibuki was the one who gave Souma that wood block in the beginning featuring Serizawa in his Fury form intending for Souma to sell it for money since Souma had none, and it was because of that that he ended up meeting the Shinsengumi themselves and ended up here now being one of them.

Hearing Okita’s story of the past was really heartwarming when Souma sincerely believed that Kondou truly is a warrior in spirit considering how he and the others follow their beliefs and protect everyone they can. Honestly, hearing Okita say thank you was just so..sweet? It felt like he really appreciated that Souma felt that way and that their way of living was recognised. I can also understand better why Okita and others may not have looked at Souma fondly since he abandoned his “warrior” status to become “nothing” like them when they’re working so hard to become a “warrior”. But really, Okita entrusting Kondou’s safety to Souma is already reflective enough of how much he has come to acknowledge Souma, as Chizuru said, Kondou’s so important to Okita, so him approving of Souma guarding Kondou is a big thing! Hearing Kondou talking about how compromising your values is scarier than death, and how as long as he can live the life of a warrior and die honorably like that, he’s fine with a death like that…it breaks my heart to think about how his death really ended up being like😭😭 I honestly completely forgot about Kondou’s shoulder injury that ended up changing him, so when he suddenly got shot, I was so surprised, especially since you never really see it in the other routes.

Souma must have felt so terrible when he told Okita about Kondou, Okita entrusted him with his protection and this happens… I honestly didn’t expect to cry when seeing the flashback of Souma telling Okita… When Okita said he had no right to blame Souma when here he was sick in bed not able to be beside Kondou when he needed him, it was so hurtful...but the worst was when Souma told Okita to punch him for not being able to protect Kondou properly and he did, but he was so weak from the tuberculosis that there was no strength behind his punches.. Just imagining how painful it must be for someone as strong as Okita to lose the strength to protect the people most important to him and slowly die must be killing him on the inside so much, how aggravating and painful must it be for him to watch on the sidelines doing nothing but stay in bed? Just thinking about all that just makes my tears keep flowing😭😭😭 I’m glad Chizuru was there to comfort Souma, with his guilt of not being able to protect Kondou and then seeing Okita like that must be so difficult for him. The pinky promise that he’ll stand by her until the end was so cute though, I’m glad he’s also acknowledged her feelings of wanting to stay and fight beside everyone.

The moment Souma escaped with Chizuru and then bumped into Miki and his men, I knew he’d have to become a Fury. I guess it was expected since Souma’s swordsmanship was apparently lacking according to the others, so it was inevitable, but yeah, it’s always saddening to see the guys succumb to this pain. I’m not surprised that Souma let Miki escape, I’ve always found it difficult to face Miki’s hatred for the Shinsengumi, mainly because it’s so…justified? If I were Miki, I’d vow to get revenge too, not only was Itou his brother, someone he respected, his leader, but he was also killed in such a abhorrent way that thinking about it pains me so. Souma’s sentiments that he probably would have felt the same in Miki’s shoes if Kondou, Hijikata or Chizuru died in that way just resonated further the idea that we can talk about all these ideals, all these hopes for the future that require sacrifices and fighting, but in the end, regardless of the reasons, the fact that they killed someone’s family is something undeniable. Maybe it would be seen as naivety on Souma’s part considering that every time they go to war, the moment they kill anyone, they are killing someone’s family, but I think seeing it so first hand with someone he knew is just so much more confrontational and shocking. I thought that’d be the end of it but nope, Kazama has to appear every time to torture our favourite boys, like please!! They’re just making it harder for me to do his route in the future!! Anyway, even though Inoue and Yamazaki were already on the verge of death from their wounds, so you wouldn’t call it completely a sacrifice for them to fight Kazama to allow Souma and Chizuru to escape, but nevertheless, they could have died much more peacefully, so yep, still hate Kazama! Yamazaki is too precious to me, I can’t stand that he must die in this way :( The helplessness of Souma and his anger for being powerless against Kazama is always something frustrating to see for all the guys😢 And I agree with Souma, the future in Edo may turn out bleak but it’s important to never give up in their hearts because when you do, that’s when you’ve really been defeated. The cutest thing was Souma saying he’d protect Chizuru forever in his sleep, it’s always so adorable how he calls her senpai.

Overall, I quite enjoyed Souma’s perspective, I think his story really reflects understanding the spirit of the Shinsengumi and living it. He started off as a person who detested them, to respecting them and fighting alongside them, and I think that progression and transition was done nicely in the sense that alongside him, I could feel the strong emotions and thoughts that the Shinsengumi were very respectable people that followed their beliefs regardless of whether the odds were in their favour or not, they were warriors who fought to the death for what they believed to be right and for the best and I think seeing Souma recognise it through his eyes made the story engaging as a viewer since it felt like we learnt everything about the Shinsengumi alongside him and it made his emotions very relatable. In terms of the romance, there isn’t much yet, but I do find it very adorable how much Souma respects Chizuru as his senpai and how adamant he is towards protecting her since it was a duty delegated to him and because he regards her as his important senpai I guess hahaha. I think Souma’s earnestness in his route really warmed my heart in his route.

[tk-duveraun]

Sunight 2/6

Setting: SWTOR Rating: T Genre: Adventure & Romance Pairing: Amos/Cassandra Sa’alle Notes: Mentions of fantasy slavery.

Read it on AO3

Lord Sa’alle the Younger’s Fury class ship was near-silent in flight. Every metal inch was engineered to Imperial perfection. There wasn’t a stain or speck of dirt to be seen as her captain led Amos away from the bridge. With how she’d made Amos sleep on the couch in her suite on Olkin II, it was the furthest he’d been from her side since they met. Hostage or not, he felt a pull toward her. She was a sun, far more ready to burn him to ashes than warm his Life Force, but he needed her. Only years of lessons in blood kept Amos from bumping into the captain’s back when he stopped. He opened a door and gestured Amos inside a cramped, but well-kept office.

The walls were lined with holopaintings and shelves of datacrons. The desk itself was faux wood with a glass top and a neat pile of datapads. It reminded Amos of Morathis and made his stomach hurt. Was this what it felt like to be homesick? He stood until given leave to sit. The chair fit him, which was a positive, but it had been designed to be deliberately uncomfortable. Every chair in the Merula estate, save for the throne-like monstrosity Ezra sat in, was like that. He did not fidget.

The captain took his seat behind the desk, but given how much he needed to adjust the chair down, it was most likely Sa’alle’s. He folded his hands on the glass top. “We’ve not been properly introduced, Amos. I am Captain Lachlan Falk, in service to Her Lordship. Now, you will tell me why it is you believed her to be acting on behalf of Lord Merula.”

Captain Falk had not been in the room when Amos told that to Sa’alle, but the question didn’t surprise him. Undoubtedly, the captain had eyes and ears everywhere she went, though it made Amos worry what else he had learned about Olkin II. Falk’s expression was locked in neutrality as stiff as his pressed uniform. His tone hadn’t been hard because it didn’t need to be. Amos was a former slave and now a prisoner, even if Sa’alle could see who he truly was.

“Ezra is her betrothed. I was present for some of the negotiations.”

Falk didn’t wait for him to finish speaking before flicking on a datapad and quickly entering information. Amos watched his hands and was struck so fiercely by a thought that his mind reeled. The typing motion, the way his fingers moved up and down, always landing on the same plane, he’d seen Sa’alle do it all through the day, but hadn’t been able to place the motion. Typing. But why? It was such a visible tell, he couldn’t fathom why she might do it. To take mental notes to an illogical extreme?

The office didn’t hold the answer, but Amos could see that between the datacrons were strings of crystals and delicate silver hairpins that glittered with jewels. He had no trouble imagining Sa’alle in elegant, Imperial finery, but his thoughts stumbled over her lightsabers and droid. Surely she’d never be without them, but nor was she the type to wear something so garishly out of place.

“It seems there was a misunderstanding,” Falk said.

Amos doubted that, but said nothing. Ezra had spoken in Basic - he couldn’t speak Sith - and Lord Sa’alle the Elder had the same marks on her face as Sa’alle. He frowned. The two were so painfully, viscerally, different in his mind that it irked him that they shared the name.

“It is a different Lord Sa’alle the Younger that is to wed Lord Merula.” Falk lowered the datapad to study Amos.

“Who?”

“Lord Sa’alle the Younger. They are both only ‘Lord Sa’alle the Younger.’” Falk broke eye contact for a moment. His hands twitched and made aborted motions, as if he were trying to straighten the already organized desk. “Lord Sybil Sa’alle, their mother, plans for only one to live. There are… far more than the two of them. They were not given individual names.”

A vague fear churned in Amos’ gut. He might have been horrified that Sa’alle’s mother planned to slaughter all of her sisters - that any of the others might survive was impossible - but his own parents had sold him to slavers for below market value, a fact he’d been whipped with for years. This Sa’alle, his Sa’alle, with her droid and her two lightsabers, would live, but not easily.

He swallowed and asked, “What do you call her, then?”

“Her Lordship?” It was a question and answer both. He shook his head and sighed. “The men call her Lord Silence. I advise you not to speak of the others to Her Lordship. There are many fates worse than death.”

“She hates them?” Amos asked, but even as he said the words, he knew he was wrong. No, his sun did not hate them. If inquiries resulted in worse than death, she loved them. Loved them and didn’t want the reminder that they would all have to die so she could live. His heart clenched in his chest. Amos wasn’t stupid. Uneducated, certainly, but he wasn’t stupid. He shouldn’t have such empathetic conviction about a stranger - much less a Sith that had taken him prisoner.

“Her Lordship’s feelings are never so simple. Should you change your mind about this suicide mission you’ve assigned yourself to, best you keep that in mind.” Falk stood. “Come then. I’ll show you your accommodations. It will be interesting to see if Lord Aucht takes any steps to retrieve you.”

“She’s a loyalist,” Amos said. He followed Falk into the shining, metal hallway and through the ship. “Why target Aucht? His colony is peaceful and sends the Empire a fortune in taxes every term.”

Falk did not reply until he had ushered Amos into his… cell? It was little more than a cupboard with a bunk bed built into the wall and storage on the other side. A soldier’s bunk, not a prisoner’s cell. Amos chose not to question it, still waiting on an answer to his previous question, if one was coming. They didn’t treat him much like a prisoner and the information was, perhaps, not too sensitive to share.

“I would not claim to know Her Lordship’s mind,” Falk said. He glanced down at his hands and the edges of his mouth pulled down before he got control of himself.

He argued against it, is what he means.

“But we will return to more immediately beneficial endeavours in the interim. The droid will be in with further instructions.” Beneficial for whom went unsaid. The captain nodded once before shutting Amos in the room.

The conversation had left him with far more questions than answers. Others, like Morathis, considered Sa’alle a loyalist, but did she see herself that way? If so, why target Aucht? Did she have reason to believe he was a traitor? Were people whispering the truth about Olkin II? If they were, did Captain Falk not know, or not consider them credible, or was he not a loyalist? Amos couldn’t imagine her tolerating a left hand that wouldn’t support her ideology, so why were they in disagreement?

They burned more fiercely in Amos’ mind because he knew she was right. By Imperial Law, Lord Aucht was a traitor, harboring a thousand or more Force users. It would be worse than death for him and execution for everyone on-world, complicit or not. If she had proof, would Sa’alle turn fifty-thousand people over to the slaughter? Yes. Or not. Or would she?

Amos closed his eyes to banish the thoughts and then set his focus on the room. He would have to fold himself nearly in half to fit on the bed. It was low enough to the ground he might be able to pull the mattress off of the top bunk and arrange it next to the bottom one. Amos hadn’t owned anything more than a few changes of clothes on Olkin II and he wasn’t sad to see them left behind. Lord Aucht he knew nothing about, but he trusted Morathis would do whatever he could to retrieve him… If it wouldn’t bring undue attention back to Olkin II, which was unlikely.

But Cate was safe.

She was safe and he would be able to bask in the sun until he died.

---

Lord Silence’s ship made no sound as it flew. He knew that her name came from the fact that she never spoke, but it suited the muffled engines and disciplined men. Narrow carpets ran through the halls and rooms had either thick standing mats or spotless, circular rugs. At least, all of the areas Amos had explored. When the droid had brought him his first meal and instructions, it hadn’t said anything about remaining in his bunk. Amos would never consider himself curious, he had no interest in eavesdropping or sneaking, but he had such a drive to learn that he ventured out of his bunk on the second day.

One of her soldiers saw him, and there was no mistaking Amos for anyone else with his height and his lack of Imperial uniform, but had simply nodded a brisk acknowledgement before continuing on their way. As much as Amos had wanted to inspect the shelves in Lord Silence’s office and examine the hair pins and datacrons, he wasn’t surprised to find the door locked. He couldn’t find any personal touches or adornments. No pictures to break up the walls, no decorations that weren’t Imperial Military Standard. They would have been a weakness, showing her true heart so openly, but he still wanted to know. The inexorable pull he felt to her was unnatural, but why fight it when he had so little time left? She stirred the life in him; it didn’t matter if it was fabricated.

His steps slowed and his breath shuddered in his chest as he looked out of a window. He’d found a lounge, his last hope for glimpse of some personal effects, but hadn’t expected great, big window staring out into the vast emptiness of space. His throat felt tight and even though the sight unnerved him, Amos couldn’t look away. Some dark compulsion made him walk closer. The only thing that stopped him from touching the glass was the railing holding him too far back. It was foolish, the emptiness couldn’t swallow him up, couldn’t steal his thoughts, but he felt them pulled away regardless.

Amos.

He felt the name in his soul, his Life Force, more than he heard it. Amos barely managed to hold in his gasp as he turned away from the window. Sa’alle was standing next to him, her hair tied back in a severe ponytail and every line of her uniform perfect. Special Operations, the droid had said when he asked, the coats and regalia were Spec Ops, not some fanciful division created by Sith to give themselves a fancy title. It couldn’t, or wasn’t authorized, to tell him her background, but identifying the coat had been something.

She didn’t look at him, her eyes trained on the nothingness that had held him captive. If it bothered her, it didn’t show on her face. “You do not like it.”

It wasn’t even a question, but still it ripped honesty from his bones. “I feel like I’m insignificant, next to it.”

Sa’alle said nothing, though her fingers moved, tapping against a datapad that wasn’t there. She tilted her head slightly towards him; she understood, but did not agree. Whatever ths sight gave her, it wasn’t insignificance. She raised a hand as if to touch the glass herself, but didn’t stretch her arm to try, only enough to make the desire clear. The want didn’t crease her face, but it didn’t need to. Amos could see it.

Words churned in his head and fought to escape his mouth and Amos didn’t want to speak them, they could lead only to disaster, but he needed. What he didn’t know, but only Sa’alle could give it to him. “Lord Aucht won’t give you anything for me.”

“He will not.” Sa’alle turned to him then. For an instant he saw only the half of her face without the Sith marks. She looked delicate and precariously balanced, like a vase on an uneven stool. Then she faced him directly and her hand may as well have been wrapped around his heart.

“Then what?” His question was a plea. He wasn’t sure what he wanted. To live was only an afterthought. He knew she could give him things he didn’t know existed. Amos reached out and she neither punished him nor moved away from the touch of his hand on her shoulder. Holding her should have reinforced how small she was, how delicate, but instead he just felt her ethereal power crash against his senses again. Everything came into sharp focus and Amos noticed that one of her lightsabers didn’t quite suit her, not really. Too large for her hand and with edges too rounded and soft.

Amos ripped his attention away and back to Sa’alle’s face. He didn’t expect her to give him a vocal answer, but she could speak in other ways. She met his eyes and turned her face away to the side, not down. There was an answer there, something she was already considering, already planning. There were no creases in her forehead, no down turn to her mouth, but Amos knew that she didn’t like it. Didn’t like it, but would follow through regardless. The back of his hand brushed against her hair when he removed it and he ached to spin his hand and feel it properly.

Sa’alle stepped back from the railing and from him. “In the meantime, you will be properly outfitted and trained. I trust you will not disappoint me.”

[rookie-dm-disasters]

Chapter 20 - USB (Ultra Simic Bioengineering)

With the leaf in tow, the party would have liked to go straight to the Simic HQ, but there was an issue with that; they had no clue where it was. On top of that, the longer they were on the zeppelin piloted by Rum and Pumpeck, the more uneasy they grew. To be fair, none of them truly knew how the machine worked, so they didn’t know why they trusted it before. But not knowing how the machine worked in tandem with it being piloted by two people who only first encountered it earlier today was enough to make anyone uneasy. They managed to get themselves back to the Izzet without much trouble. Fortunately, Rum was a fast learner, and Pumpeck was a great assistant. Upon landing, Jace was waiting for them on the roof. When they all emerged from the zeppelin, Jace took immediate note of the reduced numbers. “Where is Burdru?” Asked Jace. Pumpeck took the lead. “Are you aware of what he did to become one of the Izzet?” Jace shrugged. “As much as I like hanging around here, I’m not technically one of them. I don’t know the circumstances of Burdru’s entry.” Pumpeck continued. “He was the one who brought the leaf to the Izzet for experimentation. He stole it from the world tree in an attempt to impress the Izzet.” Jace nodded. “That would definitely impress them yes.” “Well, the World tree was not pleased with that. Burdru is now one with the tree. He won’t be coming back.” Jace sighed. “I’ll be sure to report that to the Izzet. It’s important they know that their numbers have reduced by one.” Turned his back to them and started walking towards the door. “That is frustrating though. I can’t stand when someone stands in the way of progress and science. And for what? The pride and protection of the leaves they deem sacred? Ridiculous.” Pumpeck followed Jace as the party trailed behind her. “The world tree is connected to the tree that holds the multiverse together. I’d call it important to preserve a power like that.” Jace shook his head as they loaded into the elevator. “Preserved? Sure. But used in a responsible way that can make the world a better place? I call that far more important.” The party remained silent as the elevator took them to the main floor of the tower. The lobby was bustling as usual with people scurrying all over with delicate looking machinery. Some sparks flying here and there. A fire threatened to start at any moment. Jace led them to the door and gave them their direction. “The Simic Combine is easy enough to find.” He handed them a map and pointed out the entrance. “Take the leaf there and let them know that they need to do to it what they did before. They keep records of everything, so they should know exactly what to do. And let them know the payment method will be the same as last time.” “Any advice for this group?” Asked Thorfreyer. “Because the last few little fetch quests you had us go on, we ended up being a little blindsided by culture shock.” Jace scratched his chin. “They may offer to enhance you. Unless you want to be mutated, politely decline.” Thorfreyer blinked. “Anything else?” Jace smirked. “Not really. Mutation is kind of their whole deal.” “Noted.” The party made their way into the streets of Ravnica once more as they made their way to the Simic Combine. Without issue, they arrived at their destination. They saw before them a massive pool of water. A stone bridge led to the middle of the pool that had a small island. It didn’t look much like a lab. It didn’t look like much of anything. There was a small metal dome on the island that looked like it wasn’t much bigger than Thorfreyer. Standing outside of the dome was a guard. From this distance, they couldn’t quite make out what the guard looked like. But as they got closer, it almost looked like an elf with blue and green skin. The more striking part of them were the fins and the jellyfish tentacles he had for hair. As they approached, they guard leaned against his spear and held up a hand. “Can I help you?” Thorfreyer stepped forward. “We are here on a mission from the Izzet league. We have a leaf of the world tree that needs to be made compatible with the Izzet tech.” The guard yawned while Thorfreyer was talking. “I’m sorry. Am I boring you?” Thorfreyer said as he slowly reached for his axe. “Yes, actually” Said the guard. “You’re all actually very boring. How about we get you inside and we can get some modifications done. I’m sure that you could benefit from replacing that fur with shell armor instead, big guy. Maybe a claw? Shark teeth? Venomous spit?” “No, thanks. Just the leaf.” Thorfreyer said. The guard rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Come on in.” He pushed a button on the dome which caused a panel to open. It revealed a large staircase leading down into the island. They weren’t entirely sure what to expect, but they were not expecting an underground lab. The guard ushered them inside. “I’ll take you to  Zorth.” The party descended the stairs to begin their search for the one that could help them get home. The hallways of the lair had a greenish glow to it coming from tubes lining the walls like veins. The guard said to them “This fluid runs throughout the lair to provide us light down here. Really, it’s just water with bioluminescent algae. Very cost efficient.” “Isn’t it a little tricky to see properly if all of the light is green?” asked Pumpeck. “Nah.” The guard shrugged. “It doesn’t take long to adjust. Besides our research shows that seeing the color green can help you keep calm. Very soothing effect. Helps us stay focused without the getting frustrated at failures.” The Simic seemed to enjoy squeezing every utility out of nature. Throughout the hallways, they could see that none of the rooms had doors. Each entry to a new room was a simple open pathway. It seemed like they had little to hide. Or maybe they thought doors were a waste of time. As they passed by rooms, they peeked in on occasion to see what they were working on. More often than not, they saw large, grotesque creatures in a tube. It seemed like this guild specialized in making mutants. In one particular room, they saw a single vat that had been shattered. A plaque above it read “Betelgeuse.” The group knew that this was where the intelligent wurm originally came from, but they had no idea how sterile the environment he grew up in was. While they couldn’t agree with what the wurm wanted to do, they could see where he was coming from. The guard led them into a room where an elderly man with four arms was toiling away over a workbench. He had a crab like shell instead of skin. His arms created a clicking and clacking as they moved furiously to different beakers. Thorfreyer made a move to introduce himself to the man at the bench, who he assumed was Zorth. The guard but a hand on Thorfreyer’s shoulder, and shook his head. He held a finger up to his lips, signaling Thorfreyer to make no interruptions. Thorfreyer was tired. He had been in more confined spaces in the past two days than he ever wanted to be in his entire life and he was reaching his wits end. Without picking up the signal, he said to the guard “What?” They heard the doctor at the bench make a befuddled “Hm?” sound as he looked up. As he turned around to see the group, they saw what he was working on. The corpse of a crocodile laid on the bench. Plugs and circuits running through it as if the wires were replacing blood vessels. As he turned, a tool sparking with electricity touched the crocodile and the limp corpse jolted and began twitching to life. The doctor looked back to the table and saw the crocodile wriggling on the table. He jumped and put his back to the nearest wall. He looked at the group and at the guard. “No interruptions while I’m working!” The guard pulled out a spear and said, “Sorry, I tried to warn the big one.” Thorfreyer snorted, excited at the chance to kill something. The party drew their weapons and prepared to fight the beast. “Careful,” said the doctor, “I infused it with electricity.” Veldora, Thorfreyer, and Pumpeck charged it and struck with their weapons. While each strike dug into the creature’s flesh, they each felt a jolt of electricity surge through them, causing them to recoil in pain. The crocodile bit into Thorfreyer’s calf, and released electricity causing the pain to increase and his body to tense. Niama drew her bow and struck the reptile directly in the eye. It recoiled in pain, letting go of Thorfreyer. Rum summoned a spectral mace and brought it down on its head, crushing its skull. After a few moments of twitching, the crocodile was still once more. “What the hell are you making something like that for?” yelled Thorfreyer. “What do you mean? Infusing living creatures with the power to control electricity would be incredibly beneficial. It can be but the next step in the evolution of our species.” Said Zorth. “Whatever” Thorfreyer just wanted to leave. “Make this leaf compatible with the Izzet machines so we can leave.” He pulled out the leaf and handed it to the doctor. “Ah, yes. I had received word that this would be making its way to us. Please, wait outside while I adjust it.” It didn’t take more than thirty minutes before the doctor had finished. When he brought it out, they could see that the veins of the leaf had been replaced with wires and that the stem of the leaf had been replaced with a plug of some sort. “That’ll do it.” Said the doctor. “Tell them not to waste it this time.” Wanting to leave Thorfreyer grabbed the leaf and started walking for the exit without waiting for the guard to escort them out. “Thorfreyer, what’s the rush?” Pumpeck asked. “Could you not have even said thank you?” “Doesn’t matter. I’m assuming we are either about to die, or never see this place again. I just want to go home. I’m sick of this city.” Thorfreyer kept his eyes in front of him as he spoke. Determined to leave as soon as possible. “That doesn’t mean you have to be rude along the way. We have one more component to get after we drop off the leaf. Can you keep it together until then?” Thorfreyer let out something between a growl and a sigh. “Fine.”

[gloriapace1993]

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[terraclae]

An Introduction to Court Paramo pt. 2

[Part 1]

In which Arodan gets told off by a book and meets some new people.

Lore pings: @cityofinoue @yuushanoah-fr

The door to the library seemed so intimidating now. Arodan shifted, scraping a little ice off the floor with the nails on his feet. Maybe it was the strange environment, maybe sickness, but it felt unlike him to be as nervous as he was. He could sense the day had already drawn to an end and cursed himself for not going earlier.

'Well, damn it all.'

He pushed the door open which halfway started to move on its own. It swung open to reveal a library that was more vast than he could have ever imagined. By the way at least three floors worth of books were arranged in large shelves it seemed as if the room went on for miles and miles. Although a little dusty it  the library wasn't as decrepit as he had thought it to be.

'Hey stranger, you're going to let the cold in.'

He jumped to close the door before even questioning who had spoken. When he did he stood pressed with his back to the door, eyes darting around the room until he saw someone sitting on a railing on the second floor walkway, next to a shelf above someone had hung a banner that said "Books on Magic". 'Uh… Who are you?'

'Depends on who you ask, but looking at your scraggly appearance and dead eyed look I'm...' The presumably female figure held a finger to her lips in thought. '... A witch. Care for a spell to fix you up?'

'I don't look that bad.' Arodan snapped, all the while self consciously running his fingers over his developing beard. From this distance the figure didn't seem like a witch, she seemed too young and too carefree. Maybe he just had an outdated view of what a witch exactly was. 'Get out, I have work to do here and I don't care what or who you are.'

'I wouldn't advice you speaking to my sister in that tone, stranger.'

'There's two of you?!' He whipped around and spotted someone sitting on a pile of pillows that had been dragged into a corner of the room. 'Don't make me get my broom.'

'Judging by his behavior-' The witch spoke, immediately followed by her brother down below. 'He's the new librarian then.' They turned to look at Arodan. 'How interesting.' They said in unison.

'Stop that.' Arodan said, shrinking a little. The witch was the first to fly down on big spotted wings. Now that Arodan could see her closer she must have been an imperial. She was at least half a head taller than him. Instinctively he backed away. 'Your king will hear of this.'

'If he wasn't a habitual troublemaker himself he would probably punish us but no.' The witch's brother joined his sister's side, leaning against her. He was as tall as she was and looked like he could be her twin. 'We don't mean to be of any trouble but you must forgive us for messing with newcomers at least a little.' He bowed his head. 'We most often do with the ones that don't have the courtesy to introduce themselves.' Although he spoke mostly in a monotone there were hints of sourness to his words.

'Ah, don't be like that.' She nudged her brother's side, and extended her hand towards Arodan. 'I'm sure my liege introduced me as just a witch but I'm known as Carmen. I'm the head of magical defenses here, basically.' She gestured to her brother with her free hand. 'This is my brother Epoch. He's an ambassador.' She grinned. 'It's nice to meet you, librarian.'

'My name is Arodan.' He said, grimacing a little. His gaze scanned over Carmen momentarily and fixated on her hand. When he finally reached out to shake it, it might as well been as if he decided to grab onto a red-hot iron. He said nothing, and instead focused on her eyes. There was something strange to them, now that he noticed. While the iris leant more to a deep brown color, with occasional blotches of orange her pupils were alight in a fierce orange. Epoch shared the same quality to his eyes. '... Where are you two from?'

'Ashfall Waste.' Epoch quickly answered, seemingly having caught on to what Arodan was focusing on. 'But raised in Dragonhome, if you were wondering.' His eyes narrowed. 'Nothing weird about that.'

Okay, they were definitely hiding something. 'I've met plenty of dragons raised in other places, 'course it's not weird.' He pulled his hand back and pushed it into his coat pocket to examine later. 'So, what are you doing here because I kinda need you to...' He threw a glance around them. '... Leave.'

'We're just studying, we're not going to be in your way.' Carmen said, shrugging and her wings mimicking the gesture. 'And besides, don't you need a little help?'

'If I am tasked to do a job then I prefer to do it alone.' Arodan said. Not because he feared anyone messing it up, mostly because it was already hard enough to keep himself on track. He had grown too soft. 'So, no, I don't want your help.' He elbowed himself around the two to pace towards a desk on which a few stacks of books had been neatly arranged. He opted to set down a few on another table on a distance so he could leave his own things on the desk. 'Scram. Fly off. Go read elsewhere.'

The pair was momentarily quiet, with only Carmen breaking the silence with a giggle. 'Okay then dork, have fun with the books.' Epoch didn't say anything but Arodan could feel his stare burning into the back of his neck as he set up his things. Soon the two disappeared out of his sight and left the library eerily quiet. Arodan liked places that way and sat down at the desk, flipping his journal open. Out of it fell a detailed job description of what had to happen on a daily basis, written in a scratchy font that belonged to Atlas. Next he surveyed his hand for any burns and found none, pleasantly surprised.

'Why did you send them away?' Popped up in his Journal in gold, this time the entire page turning black. Arodan pulled out a white piece of chalk. He wrote down 'Because I need some peace and quiet.'

'Isolating yourself will not soothe your fear.' Appeared in gold under Arodan's response.

'This is not a discussion.' He crudely wrote under it. He slammed the journal shut and put it aside, the thought occurring that it was strange how it already knew what had happened before he had written it down.

… Must have been his imagination. He scanned over his list, cataloging the books available being at the top of the list. As he got up, he pondered upon whether his letters would even arrive properly. The one meant for his brother should be easier, but he feared for the ones he wrote to the crew of her Humble Majesty in particular, due to their often unpredictable location. And now with the recent attack on the boat he couldn't even be sure if they docked at all. His sulking persisted as he ran his fingers alongside the rows of books in a shelf behind him.

Why would there even be dust in a library if they were underground and it was clearly frequently used?

He was shaken from his thoughts as a familiar burning returned to the back of his neck, not daring to move. It had barely been ten minutes. ‘Which of the two fiends is it?’

‘Ooh, touchy.’ Carmen’s voice rang from the opposite side of the hall. Arodan instinctively shushed her. ‘I forgot something, I won't be long.’

‘Okay, just… Grab it.’ Arodan turned to see her quickly trotting across the library, flying up to the second floor walkway again. ‘Do you guys hang around here often?’

‘Me and Epoch? Twice a week.’ She rushed through something and revealed it to be a hefty looking bag marked by countless stains. ‘King Balam is here every day though. He comes here late at night, you know it's a bad day when he's here during the day though.’

‘Huh, strange.’ That thought struck him a little harder considering Balam had been late to his audience because he supposedly had been here. ‘... Who else frequents the library?’

She narrowed her eyes at Arodan and her lips curled into a big grin. ‘Getting nosy, are we?’

‘Is it a weird question?’ Arodan asked, growing agitated. ‘Just give me an answer, witch.’

‘So, basically-’ She jumped over the railing and flew down, settling down with a little spin in the chair by Arodan's desk. ‘I'm sure Balam told you about this castle having its secrets, and the spirit of the library happens to be one of them.’ She folded her hands together with a strange triangular motion. ‘It is a being that embodies the thoughts and words said in this library as a whole, and it's well, a bit of a messy being sometimes.’

‘Wait, how is that possible?’ Arodan asked, incredulously, only to close his mouth very quickly as soon as he glanced at his journal on the desk. ‘No, wait, I can guess. Magic?’

‘Duh.’ She giggled. ‘It leaving a thin layer of dust on everything just means the library is y'know, healthy, happy as is. Still, I wouldn't advice attempting to talk to any strange figures that'd might roam this place that you don't recall coming in.’

‘What happens if I talk to them?’ Arodan asked, shuffling closer to the desk.

‘Well, they'll lull you into a false sense of security and then proceed to feed off your energy. Before you ask, it probably won't kill you if the spirit of the library perceives you as a beneficial person.’ She threw a slightly cautioned glance into the library. ‘Maybe you'll be fine.’

‘Probably? Maybe?’ Arodan didn't dare ask further, and instead remained where he stood now, next to the desk, maybe a little dumbfounded. ‘I'll-I’ll keep it in mind.’

‘Good.’ She glanced up at him. ‘So, now I've told you a secret, you have to repay me with one of yours.’

‘What, no?’ He shook his head nervously. ‘Is that just a thing you're making up?’

‘Relax Danny. That's just how we do things around here.’ She leant forward, her eyebrows raised in quirky fashion. ‘I’m not gonna hurt you or anything, what are you afraid of?’

‘The fact I'm stuck here, and I have been through a lot. A metric ton of things. Also don't call me Danny.’ He shot her a look that was clear he wasn't willing to tell her a lot about himself. ‘You're clearly hiding something too, so why should I answer?’

‘Because I thought it was fun to get to know you if you're here anyway?’ Carmen tilted her head curiously to the side. ‘So what can I ask you about?’ She rubbed her chin with one hand, while the other drifted to the desk and came to point at Arodan’s journal. ‘What's this?’

‘None of your business.’ Arodan reflexively snapped, flinching at his own remark. ‘I mean… It's a journal. I keep records of my travels in it, I've been a lot of places.’ He held up his hands in a pleading gesture. ‘I'd prefer you'd not touch it.’

‘I'm not going to.’ Carmen pulled her hand away. Now her gaze was fixated on the book. ‘Huh. I thought it was a magic tome of sorts actually, with how much energy clings to this thing.’ Well, she kinda wanted to touch and flip through it. ‘What did you do to it?’

‘I uh… Had a sort of accident.’ He picked up the book so it was away from Carmen’s potential grasp. ‘I met a magic user on a boat I developed a friendship with that went very…’ It was as if his throat seemed to slam shut painfully and he clutched the book a little closer to himself. ‘Sour. Those things happen.’

Carmen scanned Arodan momentarily and as soon as she met his gaze again she gave him a knowing look. ‘You know, my brother and I were actually not raised in Dragonhome because we wanted to be. More or less abducted.’ She shrugged. ‘We were raised under a rigorous regime and little love, learning not fire magic but earth magic. It isn't your situation perhaps, but hey, I can understand a little.’ She hopped up, still optimistic. ‘So, Dan, if you need to talk, let me know.’

‘... Yes.’ He nodded, and he righted himself, having found he had sank into an uncomfortable slouch. ‘I like Dan by the way. You can call me Dan.’

‘Nice.’ She reached out to pat his shoulder. As soon as her hand made contact however she jumped back and retreated her hand, her gaze frantically darting between Arodan and the book in his hands with a look as if she just had gotten struck by lightning. ‘Woah, that's freaky.’

‘W-What?’ He pat his shoulder down as if anything on his person felt weird. ‘What's wrong?’

‘I swore for a moment you just…’ Any other time she might have called the feeling that just surged through her pure unbridled malice. From Arodan who eyed nothing but very tired and distant it was strange, and it wasn't that. ‘... As if my power just got pulled into you.’ Her gaze now settled firmly on the book as the suspect, and finally shook her head. 'Must be my imagination.'

Arodan stared down at the book in his hands but didn't get the chance to ask about this any further. The door was opened with a creak. ‘That doesn’t sound like work is being done in here.’ Balam poked his head into the library. ‘Carmen?’

‘My liege.’ She bowed, smiling at Balam with a strange fondness. ‘I take you need me to leave?’

‘No, Epoch was just growing impatient and fidgety.’ He marched in and pat her shoulder. ‘So, don't make him wait. That's an order.’ His tone was too jovial to be taken seriously.

‘Yes sirree.’ She said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She threw Arodan a mystified look which drifted down to the book in his hands, then promptly left. ‘Bye boys.’

‘... Bye.’ Arodan meekly responded, turning back to his desk. He waited a moment until he felt certain that Carmen had left and then grew hyper aware of Balam’s presence. ‘Can I get to work now?’ After all he had already wasted the day away before he had any courage to enter the library.

‘I won't be disturbing you.’ Balam said, suppressing a small laugh. ‘If you consider the tapping of feet on these floors to be a disturbance.’

‘No, not at all.’ Arodan quickly said. He dropped his book back on the desk in favor of grabbing a clipboard and quill to start cataloging. He heard Balam settle on the pile of pillows Epoch had bean sitting on earlier, and put talking out of his mind for now.

‘You do seem rather eager to get to work.’

Arodan said nothing and let the feathery crests by his ears fall in knowing manner. The books before him required a little more focus at the moment. He managed to get one bookshelf worth of books done before he noticed a shifting behind him and looked up to find Balam leaning over him, immediately freezing where he stood. ‘Sir?’

‘I am just looking for something.’ He said, reaching over Arodan. He pulled a book from the highest shelf with ease. ‘Also, do you not have an answer?’

‘I'm not fond of sitting around and doing nothing and I have already wasted most of the day anyway.’ He averted his eyes to the floor and wondered why exactly Balam had to stand right behind him. ‘I could ask why you are here when you are king, don't you have more important duties to fulfill?’

‘Forgive me for wanting to take a little time off in the early hours of the night.’ Balam said, this time a laugh escaping him before he could stifle it. He stepped back and Arodan breathed a sigh of relief. ‘There are too many frightful things out there after all, so I tell my people to do the same. To breathe calmly and devote what free time they have to emotionally enriching oneself.’

‘You speak as if the end of the world is at your doorstep, it can't be that bad.’ Arodan said, moving over to the next bookshelf. He threw a quick glance at Balam and then promptly got stuck staring. What was that strange look he had to his eyes? ‘... Wait, is it that bad?’

‘I'd like to think there's a possibility everything will be alright but… Yes, it is that bad.’ Balam answered, cracking an awkward smile. ‘We’re working on figuring out a plan however, to defeat the enemy headed for us. It's shaping up to be a formidable battle strategy.’

‘So… You allow people to be at peace just in case this city falls?’ Arodan asked. Balam nodded, and walked back to the pile of pillows. He looked like a man lying to himself about what to expect. ‘That sounds a little like you are simply resigning to a cruel fate.’

‘I'll admit the very first plan me and my strategists made was one where we evacuated the city swiftly. Move to another hideout further in the mountains.’ Balam quietly started, flipping open the book before him. It seemed to be a storybook. Arodan returned to his work and listened. ‘That plan still exists. But now we have decided we should attempt to strike back somehow, test our fate. All I am saying is that there is the very real possibility we might not win this battle.’

‘... Fair enough.’ Arodan found it was easy to scan over the shelves and see in one look how many and what books were present once he found his flow. As he neared the end of his current row of shelves a pang of guilt settled in his chest. Once he finished and Balam had remained far too quiet, he turned back to him. ‘Sir?’

‘Yes?’ Balam glanced up from his book with a telltale little smile. ‘Are you going to just stand there asking any questions?’ He pat besides him. ‘Sit.’

Well, he had tomorrow to try again to actually do any cataloging. He hesitantly walked over to Balam and settled down next to him. ‘Forgive me for asking this, I have been here only a day… But is there anything I can do to help?’

‘Well, attempt to not threaten and scare away the good folk around here.’ Balam answered, leafing through his book. ‘Carmen and Epoch are good kids, that I promise you can trust. Atlas is, as is Langdon, even if you haven't met him yet. Caer is distant like you are, but she's dependable.’ He threw a glance around the library and thought, yes, even the library had a good spirit. ‘Kindness is the best quality you can practice within the boundaries of this city. My father often said so.’ His gaze met Arodan’s. ‘They have all been struck down by the world in some sense, which I will not allow to happen a second time.’

‘Then what struck you down?’

Balam quietened at that and pondered upon Arodan’s question, eyes drifting off elsewhere. ‘The idea that I can't protect what I love and this.’ He rolled his shoulder and two grand webbed wings stretched into being. One however was tattered as if someone had attempted to rip it to shreds. ‘Got that when I was still learning to fly. I was a little more brash back then and I wanted to prove myself, so I jumped off a cliff. I misjudged the distance however and although I survived one of my wings got pierced by a rock below.’ He folded his hands and wings. ‘The loss of flight didn't hurt me as much, it was how people looked at me after that.’

‘That… How do you deal with that?’ Arodan asked, incredulously staring at the remains of the wing. ‘Does it hurt?’

‘It was years ago!’ For some reason Balam couldn't help but laugh, loudly, a deep sound that reverberated through the halls. He fell backwards into the pile and near sent Arodan flying in the shift of weight. ‘There are so many more pressing matters at hand and the people who thought less of me for that at the time are gone!’ He turned to Arodan with a big grin. ‘I'm busier with temporarily imprisoning people like you these days.’

‘Gee, thanks.’ Arodan grumbled, getting up from the pile. ‘So… You would have someone like me around?’

‘Of course, you've only just started your job here. You are not malicious it seems, so you can stay for the time being.’ Balam answered, getting up in a similar manner to Arodan to thread after him. ‘Or are you referring to something else?’

‘No, I have not been myself lately, more distant. I'm not asking you to forgive me for my behavior, but I want to try.’ He looked over his desk with a weary glance and didn't desire to meet Balam's eye. Carmen had noticed it earlier, so no doubt he'd have to tell them sometime soon about his sickness. ‘I will try to do my best.’

‘Your best is good enough.’ Balam held up an assuring hand Arodan didn't notice. ‘Just do your job.’ He moved to another shelf, and put back the storybook in favor of one of a similar kind. ‘And keep in mind this place is an open sanctuary.’

‘Yes sir.’ He glanced up, eye first focusing on the door. For a moment he swore it was ajar, a few bright orange petals clinging to the frame. They seemed to flicker like flames and wondered if Epoch or Carmen were eavesdropping. ‘I'll… Get back to work.’

‘I won't bother you then.’ Balam chimed. He returned to the pillow pile in quietness, only stopping to throw a look at the door. It slammed shut immediately and he marched on with a satisfied smile. ‘Carry on Librarian.’ And that seemed the end to their conversation. Not as much to Arodan’s thoughts however, who continued to mull over the advice granted to him until he reached the last shelf.

[add-salt-shed-light]

A Liberal Application of Intolerance

I ended my last article by writing “I intend, in my next few articles to mock and ridicule liberalism and expose its utter stupidity and hypocrisy”. I often times use provocative language to sound controversial, as it tends to capture a larger audience.  It is a shameless marketing ploy, but if it works then you (the readers) should be ashamed of yourselves!  

And by the way, did no one get my last “You may have been raised in a brethren assembly IF” joke?  It didn’t even generate a single thumbs-up, or smiley face on Facebook!  Of course, there is the possibility that it wasn’t funny (but the probability of that is low).  Hasn’t anyone else ever wondered why our assembly potlucks are often called Fellowship Teas when ‘tea’ isn’t central to the event? I can’t remember ever having tea at a Fellowship Tea.  I guess the old adage is true…if you have to explain the joke, then there is no joke.

Bringing the focus back to the topic I started with…

I would like to restate my intention in a more positive way.  The critiques that I will level at the secular liberal worldview are intended to demonstrate that without an unmovable foundation of truth, any system of human thought crumbles into incoherent nonsense when challenged.  My desire to undertake this critique is because I worry that many of our Christian young people are buying into this liberal worldview that promotes as its ideals: tolerance and acceptance.

Tolerance and acceptance are the hallmark buzz words of liberalism.   It sounds appealing, as the words portray a certain kindness and compassion; something that a good person should aspire to.  They are heralded as human virtues.   How often have you heard an individual describing himself/herself as being “a very tolerant and accepting person” ?   I hear it in the workplace, on television, and read it on social media.  I’ve even noticed it in personal ads (which I read solely for research purposes).   Are these indeed virtues that a person can use to describe themselves?   No, they are not.  I cannot use these two words to describe myself.  In fact, no one can.

The words tolerate and accept are transitive verbs and need to be followed by a direct object in order to have any moral quality.  Transitive verbs require something or someone (the direct object) to receive the action of the verb.  That is, when someone claims to be tolerant/accepting, you have to ask ‘of what?’.  It is the ‘of what’ that determines if the tolerance/acceptance is a good thing or a bad thing.  Ask a liberal who claims to be tolerant/accepting a few probing questions:

Are you tolerant/accepting of murderers?

 Are you tolerant/accepting of pedohiles?

Are you tolerant tolerant/accepting of polygamy?

Are you tolerant/accepting of someone who doesn’t agree with the things that you are tolerant/accepting of?  

Are you tolerant/accepting of biblical views on homosexuality and of those people that hold to those beliefs?  Or do you call them homophobes, bigots, or discriminators?

Do you show tolerance/acceptance towards the newly elected US President and his supporters?

If the liberal’s answer is “no” to all of the questions on that very short list, how can they define themselves as tolerant/accepting people?  There are certainly things that they won’t tolerate or accept.  (By the way, where is this list of things that a person must tolerate and accept or be branded a bigot by a secular liberal?  And who wrote this list?  Is it universally binding?  Is it based on subjective or objective truths?  Or is it simply the opinions of secular liberals?)

As demonstrated, tolerance/acceptance can only be defined as good or bad on the basis of the direct object they are applied to.  They are not in themselves virtues.   How then can anyone use these words to define themselves?  A transitive verb cannot be a virtue as it is dependent upon a direct object to have any moral meaning.  I don’t expect a liberal to follow that argument (because they are intolerant of any ideas that counter their own).  However, I went through the trouble of explaining that, so you (my conservative Christian readers), can understand that tolerance and acceptance are simply liberal jargon that hold no moral value in themselves.  They are not virtues.  They are simply the empty mantras of the morally bankrupt religion called secularism.

In contrast, consider the Christian virtues that flow forth as the fruits of the Spirit:

Galatians 5:22-23:  “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,  gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law (NASB).”

It is interesting to note that none of these are transitive verbs that require a direct object in order to have moral value.  These are all good things, in and of themselves.  Regardless of the circumstances, they are virtues that flow from the indwelling of the Holy Spirit.  We can show love to our enemies and show goodness to those that hate us (Matthew 4:44).  We have peace in all things, and can even show joy in our tribulations because we have been justified by faith (Romans 5:1-3).  These are the virtues or moral qualities that should define the life of a Christian.  They are virtues that can be applied in any circumstance, to anyone, or to anything.  Tolerance and acceptance sound great, but they have no value in themselves. The bible-believing Christian stands on a foundation of absolute truth which can be applied consistently to all times, places, and circumstances.

When I began writing this article, my plan was to eventually turn the subject towards the ‘women’s rights’ protests that erupted the moment Trump won the election.  These protests provide plenty of fodder to expose the intolerance, inconsistency, and hypocrisy of the liberal left.  However, my plan has abruptly changed.  I was just struck with a ‘deep’ thought that I need to flesh out before it wanders off into the deep recesses of my aging brain.  Women’s rights will have to wait.  

I have not thought this through, so what comes next may be disjointed and nonsensical.  I give you fair warning.  You are about to experience the inner workings of my twisted brain as I begin to process this ‘deep’ thought.  (I place ‘deep’ in quotes because it may actually turn out to be a shallow thought.   I’m simply allowing for that possibility.)

My Sudden Deep Thought

I do not want to assume that everyone that subscribes to secular liberalism is an agnostic, an atheist, or an unbeliever.  However, secular liberalism does seek to remove religion and God from all aspects of culture, education, and politics.  Therefore, I believe it fair to assume that a majority of those that adhere to a secular liberal worldview would accept evolution as proven science. At the same time, they claim tolerance and acceptance as the virtues of their secular religion.  

It is at this point that my ‘deep’ thought begins to emerge. I will introduce it in the form of a question and then attempt to answer it.

Are the secular liberal ‘virtues’ of tolerance and acceptance compatible with the theory of evolution?

Please allow me some time to wrestle with this question.

If God is replaced by the theory of Darwinian evolution, then the human species was created over billions of years through a series of beneficial random mutations.  More specifically, an evolutionist would attribute the origin of the human species to the mechanism of natural selection, also known as survival of the fittest. What could possibly be more intolerant and unaccepting as the process of natural selection?  It is literally a theory based on discrimination and intolerance. The theory assumes that a developing species gradually improves and progresses over time by the death of the weak and the selection of only the strongest or the fittest for survival.  In the words of Richard Dawkins (an atheist evolutionist), “nature red in tooth and claw' sums up our modern understanding of natural selection admirably (Dawkins, R., The Selfish Gene)”.

Try and imagine an early humanoid population, millions of years back along the evolutionary tree.  A male (let’s name him Throg), is called in front of a council of elders.

“Throg, we’ve called you here today to let you know that your kind is no longer welcome here.  Why you completely missed getting the latest genetic mutation; the opposable thumb.   Not only are we tired of peeling bananas for you but you are a potential contaminate to our gene pool.  You are holding us back and we can tolerate it no longer.  You are banished.”

Perhaps a ridiculous example, but I use it to illustrate that an evolutionary process which is driven by the creative mechanism of natural selection, is decidedly intolerant. How then could we “evolve” through such an intolerant process into a secular society that upholds tolerance and acceptance as human virtues (when, of course, it suits their opinion)?  In fact, how could any such system, without God, be able to formulate any moral code of good and evil?  The answer is it can’t; at least not an objective system.

To conclude my ‘deep’ thought...the liberal ideals of tolerance and acceptance are incompatible with the intolerance inherent within the theory of the origin of the species by way of natural selection.  Whether that is a deep thought or a confused thought, I will leave to my readers to judge - but my brain feels better having now processed it more fully.

The secular liberal, as I will seek to demonstrate over the course of my next few articles, is left with a system of morality that is relative and subjective – and therefore, decidedly inconsistent in its application.  The fact that a secular liberal can even profess to recognize the categories of good or evil, is because they know that there is a God; but it is a God that they deny in their unrighteousness (Romans 1:18-22).  Although their unbelief may confuse their ability to properly classify things between the categories of good and evil, they still have a conscience that is accountable to the God they deny (Romans 2:14-16).

Christian young person, the secular liberal world can only offer you a belief system that leads to inconsistency and foolishness.  As Christians we have a book that provides us with an unchangeable source of truth. Only a worldview founded upon the Word of God can remain consistent.  Stand fast on the bedrock of scripture: “continue in the things you have learned and become convinced of, knowing from whom you have learned them, 15 and that from childhood you have known the sacred writings which are able to give you the wisdom that leads to salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus. 16 All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness; 17 so that the man of God may be adequate, equipped for every good work (2 Timothy 3:14-17, NASB)”.