#when will he warm up to me or the other wardens he meets why is he always so tense

[sqlmn]

OC RNG stuff.

-Lucinda is engaged to the oldest prince in a family of nine where there are 8 brothers and then the youngest is the only girl. She adores her future husband. -Ink Blot is a really dumb mage who acts as a street performer using fake magic despite being an actual mage. He just wants to be the center of attention. -Ruby and Luce are from the same plot (thank you RNG I love the dream wardens). They're part of different pairs and basically just patrol to keep dreams in check. Ruby and Luce also don't really meet each other in canon. Their routes don't overlap but they both interact with the main duo which is Colette and Marcus. (Ruby wants to beat Marcus up while Luce wants to kiss Marcus for what it matters.)

[sribbles-drabbles]

🍎Too Uptight!!🍎

Vil Schoenheit x Hippie! GN! Reader

Tw: None!!

Idk if I nailed the hippie aspect but I went for more of a "love of the earth and environment, foraging, self-sustaining, kinda spiritual" hippie ig??? I feel like it reads more spiritual cottage-core but eh?? I'm happy with it.

When one gazed upon the beautiful visage of Vil Schoenheit many words came to mind. For many it was the classic “beautiful”, “elegant”, “stunning”, or “Poise”…..maybe even “fairest of them all” a title that he always stove for during every hour of everyday. As he currently walks through the courtyard you can’t help but think that the whole thing seems exhausting. But you admired his commitment all the same and the way there was such nobility to his aura.

Though at the same time you wished Vil took better care or himself and took time to simply let go and be at peace with the world.

“Perfect, I found another Tremella Fuciformis.” Jade calls, scooping the mushroom off a dying branch on the forest floor and placing it in his foraging satchel.

“Ah, really?! That’s like, clump number 8, right? And you can just call them a snow-ear Jade…” you shake yourself free from your previous thoughts about Pomfiore warden, a blush deepening on your cheeks.

While many saw you as “lazy” or “way out of it” you preferred to call yourself what you are, a hippie. While the others were in class studying away you kidnapped Grim and ran into Jade on the way and asked for help with foraging. Foraging for what? Snow-ear, a fungus from your world that somehow carried over to the twisted wonderland. Though the only difference? Back home they grow in tropical climates like Brazil, but here they actually grow in the snow. Thus, why you’re currently up mountains, in one of Jade’s best foraging spots.

“Say, Perfect, why do you need snow ears anyways?” Jade asks suddenly, catching you off guard and making you blush before hiding it behind your scarf.

“Uhm….I just was going to use it in a soup-”

“Soup?! Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!! I thought you wanted to make some fancy lotion for Vil!!” Grim blabs loudly, making you jump and then sigh.

“Ah, a gift for Schoenheit? Well you made a good choice using Snow-ear.” Jade chuckles.

“Listen, if anyone deserves a breather it’s Vil. He always seems to tightly wound, and…he needs to just…let go…” you mumble.

Later that day you took your haul into your room and with the guidance of Epel who was well aware of and on board with your plan to woo Vil, the two of you start to brew a nice natural face scrub, as Vil had claimed that the one he had been using before had stopped being made.

——————————The next day——————————

“PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME!!” You call, clothes flowing in the wind. Your self altered uniform that you’re so proud of making you nervous as it’s so different than the man across from you.

You had given Vil your gift with a note asking him to meet you in the courtyard of Pomfiore at sunset. You stood by a large cotton wood in the back left corner of the property. The warm spring air making the puffs of white pollen look like snow as they fall to Earth.

Vil remains silent, and it rings loudly as the wind whistling and the ruffling leaves make an almost intolerable cacophony that it only drowned our by your thoughts.

He’s going to say no. He thinks you’re too different to him. He’s a try-hard prince who’s perfect and you’re the magicless ramshackle prefect who dances in the rain, forages for food, and loves the Earth more than words can describe.

How could this work? It can’t-

“Heh, took you long enough.” Vil muses pulling you back to reality.

“Wha-” you start looking up at Vil.

His dorm robes flutter in the wind much like your own clothes, and a red blush dusts his ivory cheeks as he smiles, tucking a loose hair behind his ear as he nears you, and leans down with a smile.

“May I…?” He asks, ever the gentleman.

You’re almost too stunned to speak, only muttering out a brief: “Y-Yeah…”

Crimson lips meet yours as the Pomfiore perfect gives you a brief smooch before standing with a confident smirk plastered on his face.

“My, flustered are we? I know I’m beautiful but you must learn to control this if we’re to make this work darling…though it is charming how surprised you seemed to be. Honestly have you picked up on none of my hints from the past month?” He questions.

You then blush harder. Though you thank the world and spirits around that this man was given to you. And you step forward and lay your head against his chest, earning a chuckle from him.

——————————7 months later—————————

You lay with your head in what you believe to be the most comfortable lap in the world. But even prettier is the view. Vil takes another bite of popcorn you made earlier and looks at the romance movie playing.

Vil sighs deeply, letting his shoulders slouch, he places some of the junk food in your mouth. He wipes his now free hand free of butter and then moves it to massage your scalp, his nails scratching in the most satisfying way.

Vil sits on his side one hand propping himself up as your head lays in his lap and his free hand plays with your hair, he looks down at you with a loving look mixed no doubt with the serotonin from the sickeningly sweet romance movie. He’s dressed in one of your sleep shirts and a pair of sweatpants and had left his own clothes in your living room, as he claimed:

“I wouldn’t want all of my belongings to smell like all this junk, lord knows what would happen if Rook were to figure out I join you to eat junk and watch movies on Friday nights...” He would trail off and grumble but never turn down an invitation.

It was euphoric in a way, to see Vil come to you at 7:00pm on the dot each Friday. Rook and Epel knew full well you were dating their house-warden and kept it a secret for your sake but what they didn’t know was how much your hippie lifestyle had started to creep into Vil’s routine.

He’d come to you after one of his photo shoots, and look as if he wanted to tear his hair out from stress. He’d walk in and grab you by the collar and kiss you before changing into a comfy outfit you bought for him, much more your style than his. with a flowing skirt, a nice blouse with embroidered flowers, handmaid jewelry, and a colorful bandana to tuck most of his hair back. You'd then drag him out the woods behind Ramshackle and have him help you forage for dinner. He was a natural at botany and poisons after all.

Before, things would be more formal, more of just small talk, asking about each other’s day with tension heavy in the air. not knowing how to connect to each other even though you had been friends for months before and shared a common interest in botany and films. it was so easy as friends but harder as a new couple.

You hated it. He hated it too.

But one day after talking about what you both desired out of this relationship, you both realized you wanted someone to simply relax with. Though your ideas of relaxation varied a-lot. Mostly because Vil didn’t seem to know how to truly relax without doing some sort of physical activity. Lazying around seemed repulsive to him. So you compromised.

You were both interested in botany and naturally grown foods and products, thus why not teach Vil more about the Earth and how to harness it in a healthy, sufficient way? It was still something active in Vil’s mind, thus it’s always how things started until you both made your way back inside and to the kitchen to cook your findings. while you played music from your world on your somehow still functional phone. I couldn't make calls to your family, but somehow still had your playlist intact. Vil thought the music choices were odd but grew to like it and respect it for its message and freeness in expression over time.

Afterward was always different, however. Sometimes a movie, and sometimes just talking or enjoying each other’s presence and cuddling.

“I’m glad, you know…” Vil drawls out with a yawn. you look at the clock, around 11 pm this is late for him, as Vil is usually early to bed and early to rise,

“What for?” You ask with a hum.

“I’m glad I’m here with you…you make me feel so soft and warm." he groans in frustration and rubs the corner of his eye with his index finger, spreading some of his makeup before continuing "No…that doesn’t make any sense…I suppose I mean you make me content and happy.” He hums and smiles warmly, causing you to reciprocate.

“You make me happy too love…” You smile up at him, leaning up to meet him as he leans down and you two share a chaste, emotional, kiss.

“What a wonderful life this is…” you think to yourself.

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

Tags: @demon-lover-669

[kyra-writes-too-much]

Boiling Rage - Part 2

GUESS WHO FINALLY POSTED PT 2??? Call it a Valentine’s Day gift lol

(i know i’m so late i’m SORRY. school and softball and theater are killing me 😅 we’re supposed to have a play next month but we’re so behind pls forgive me)

ok so part 1 stuck mostly to the canon storyline but this part does not. umm… enjoy

tw: descriptions of injuries (nothing major tho)

— — —

Sokka frowns. “He’s kind of in a cooler right now?”

“He’s where?” 

“The coolers are a sort of… container that firebenders are put in. They’re insulated, and kept too cold to use bending. The warden came after him for some reason, but I don’t know why!”

Your eyes are wide as Sokka explains, and at the end, something clicks. Mai. 

“That little… okay. Okay, let’s get Zuko, we can figure out the escape plan together.”

Sokka shakes his head. “We can’t. He’s under guard. But I did find someone else that you might like to see…”

“Who?” You’re upset, but can’t go bursting into the cooler by yourself. 

“Suki. She was arrested, but she’s here!”

“Suki’s here?! Really?”

Suki was the leader of the Kyoshi warriors, and your best friend. You haven’t seen her since Axula attacked you all in the forest, when you had been the only one to escape. 

“Yeah! Zuko and I saw her in the yard, right before he was taken away. I went to visit her, and we were trying to come up with an escape plan.”

“Okay, that’s actually good news. But I want to go find Zuko, before…”

“Before what?” Sokka prompts. 

“Before Mai does. If I know her at all, she’ll be here soon… and she’ll be mad. At me, mostly, but also at Zuko.” 

“We have to get rid of the guards first… if you can cause a distraction, I can get him out.”

You grin. “That won’t be a problem.”

— — —

You and Sokka are quiet as you approach the four guards, trying not to attract too much attention. Neither of you have a weapon, but the guards appear unarmed as well. You’ll just have to be wary of fire. 

“Excuse me! The warden sent us. It’s your turn to have dinner,” Sokka lies. 

One of the guards looks both of you up and down. “We were ordered to keep at least four guards on this post at a time. Two of us will remain here with you.”

You had expected a problem like this. “Of course, sir.” Sokka gives you a dubious look, but you have a plan. As soon as two of the guards saunter off, you give the other two guards a smile, then realize that they can’t see it through the helmet. 

“Hi! I don’t think I’ve seen either of you around before,” you say brightly. 

“Oh. I’m usually in the prison yard,” one of them, a younger-sounding guy, says. 

“And I’m new here,” says the other, a middle aged woman.

“Well, it’s good to meet you guys,” Sokka says, going along with what you’re doing. 

“Yeah! Hey, even though you���re new, you’ve tried the fruit tarts in the food court right?” you ask, addressing the woman. 

“Fruit tarts? No… why?”

“They’re incredible! You have to go grab one before they’re gone,” Sokka replies enthusiastically. 

“Fruit tarts? I didn’t know there were fruit tarts here,” the other guard says longingly.

“Really? How? You guys should get them now, they usually run out fast,” you tell them. 

“Yeah, we can watch the cooler for a while,” Sokka assures. 

“You know what? That sounds amazing. We owe you,” the guy says to you and Sokka. He and the woman walk away down the corridor, debating on the best type of fruit tart.

“Enjoy!” you call after them. 

“That was genius,” Sokka tells you when they’re out of sight. 

“I know, right? Ok, how do you open this thing?”

Sokka spins a key ring around his finger. “You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve.”

You grin at the Water Tribe boy as he twists the key in the lock and slides the cooler door open. 

“Zuko!” you greet your boyfriend. “Oh, what happened to you?!”

Zuko is huddled on the ground, trying to keep warm. A dark violet bruise has formed around his right eye, and dried blood splatter is visible on his clothes. 

“I got punched in the face. I’m f-fine, Y/N,” he says, but not very convincingly. 

“Okay, I hate to break up the reunion, but we need to get you out of here,” Sokka interrupts. 

Zuko grimaces. “I don’t know if you can,” he sighs, shifting to reveal one of his ankles shackled to the floor. 

“Sokka, give me the keys,” you order. He complies, and you try to open the lock with each of the keys. When none of them work, you panic slightly, going through all of them again. “Why aren’t they working?”

“The warden probably has the key,” Sokka realizes. 

“You know what? You’re right. Both of you stay here. I’ll be as quick as I can,” you tell them. 

“Y/N, are you c-crazy? Don’t risk going after the warden for me. I’ll b-be okay,” Zuko insists. He looks absolutely exhausted, and is shivering. 

“Yeah, sure. Don’t lie to me, Zu. I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“…okay. I’ll see you soon.”

Sokka nods at you. “Good luck. Be careful.”

“Am I not always?” you call over your shoulder. 

“No!” both of them reply as you leave. 

— — — 

You (kind of) know where you’re going, so you make it to the warden’s office without getting too lost. 

Hearing footsteps from around a corner, you take a breath and try to act natural. The warden steps into your line of vision. 

You can see the keys in his pocket, barely sticking out. Your fingers reach out, and you barely catch the key ring with your pinkie. Closing your fingers around the keys, you smile under your helmet, and start your way back. 

— — —

Part three will be the final part!!!

[friendly-books]

Dresden files White Night live blog

Content warning: Transphobia

“That’s big or you, Mini Mouse” pg. 16 Ha

Interesting bit about Wiccan and the Bible

Cool that Murphy was able to tackle Molly while she was invisible 

Molly, why are you here? This is a crime scene and you’re a civilian 

“(In case it slipped by, Molly has authority issues)” pg. 31 Ha

So the victims were all women practitioners 

I’m guessing by the way the women died our killer is a White Court Vampire or it could be more than one killer 

“Finding things. Following things. Blowing things up, mostly” pg. 47 So Harry’s good at thaumaturgy and fighting magic. At least that’s what he likes he’s good at

Interesting to see the difference in training between Molly and Harry with calling up their wills. 

“Despite all of that, the same folks I’d tried to help were afraid of me.

Even Mac” pg. 72 Aw poor Harry :( 

“Then a couple of Red Court ghouls showed up and killed two kids.” pg. 79 Ah so that’s why Harry hates Ghouls so much understandable 

“Kill them all” pg. 79 Psych much Murphy how’d you know Harry’s going to kill all the Red court?  

Helen Beckitt is back?!? 

“I mutter off-color limericks in my sleep” pg. 84 Ha 

“You don’t always think clearly where women are concerned” pg. 84 Ha

Who wears a turtleneck if it’s warm out? Sus Could be a vampire and hiding her bite mark?

Is Helen Beckitt a minor practitioner? 

Not liking how one of the possible suspects could be Thomas 

Obviously it’s not Thomas

 Harry maybe calm down, you're getting really angry Lasciel influence?

Oh no Murphy’s car

I love that Mister always slams into Harry’s shins 

Wonderful acting Harry truly a great performance 

“I was going to kill my brother later” pg. 127 Can’t wait for that confrontation 

“An NBA-sized gay burger who works with a dog” pg. Ha

“I’d get plenty of sleep when I’m dead” pg. 134 You’d be surprised how little you get 

“Okay Lash” It’s starting! 

“Do I merit an affectionate nickname now?” pg. 135 Yes 

“Could evil, true capital-E Evil, do such a thing? Help create something whole and lovely and precious” pg. 140 Interesting I wonder if even this soon after Naming Lash she began to change. I don’t she would have helped Harry with the music pre Naming 

 Elaine! I didn’t know you would be in this book

“He’s got a phychosis about charging to the rescue. I always thought it gave him a certain hapless charm” pg. 159 Yep and I agree that Harry has charm

Now people aren’t telling Harry information because he’s a Warden

Oh Elaine got into the PI business cool

The buildings on fire and Harry didn’t cause it shocking 

“Okay, here’s the plan. We follow all the other flammable people out of the building before we burn to death” pg. 171 Ha

“Harry you jackass this is how getting yourself  into trouble” pg. 177 Ha and at least you admit it 

I hope it’s a warden so Harry can fight them 

I’m glad Harry is being smart about chasing a bad guy

Mouse lore!

I hope Ancient Mai meets Mouse 

“I wondered if I could find someone to make Mouse a Kevlar vest” pg. 192 Ha and I think that would be adorable 

Little Chicago is so cool that Harry can use it listen into a conversation 

“I doubt that. It would take a subtle worker of the Art to manage that. He isn’t one”

“He’s a thug,” the passenger said. “Plain and simple. His talents makes him good at destruction and little else. He’s a beast to be prodded and directed” pg. 199 Well the passenger clearly underestimates Harry 

Cowl? It’s a bad guy convention 

How did Cowl see Harry? It’s very cool but very bad for Harry

“Bring it, Darth Bathroom” pg. 212 Ha

I ask again how does Harry not have more brain damage or at least a concussion. He really shouldn’t poke your physic around things unprotected 

“It would be more convincing if she weren’t holding the book upside down” pg. 219 Ha

“she didn’t score quite high enough to be considered for Council membership” pg. 229 Interesting so the Council has a test to decide who gets to get in. What constitutes high enough? Why does there need to be a test? Do the Wardens administer it? How does the test work? Did Harry take the test? 

“Unless we keep losing people to the vamps, in which case I guess we lower our standards”  pg. 229 What do you mean lower our standards? With a war going you should be happy with anyone joining. They don’t have to be powerful to be helpful. There are other areas that aren’t front line fighting that they could help with. This comment also shows how Carlos is the White Council’s golden boy prodigy compared to Harry’s black sheep. 

So Elaine is under performing on the test. 

“DuMorne was a warlock himself. Black wizard as bad as they come. He planned on training us up to be personal enforcers. Trained, strong wizards, under mental compulsion to be loyal to him. He nailed Elaine with it. I killed him” pg. 234 Interesting If we take what Harry said as true then why would Justin want or need enforcers? Was Justin trying to overthrow the White Council? Or was he planning on making an army? If he was then who or what was he planning on fighting? He clearly kept it a secret from the rest of the White Council as they don’t know about Elaine. Justin kept secrets from the White Council like Bob and Elaine I wonder what other secrets he had. 

“the Wardens are a fine bunch of assholes. Presents company excluded” pg. 235 Ha and I agree 

“I carefully did not lose my temper and barbecue her stupid face right then and there” pg. 245 Whoa there Harry let’s calm down 

“She met my eyes for a moment, and though her lips didn’t move, I heard her voice quite distinctly”

“The communication spell between us was an old one” pg. 246 Oh fascinating so telepathy exists maybe. That brings into more questions. Do other wizards know telepathy? Is this gray magic? Now that Harry remembers it will he use it? Or is it a subtle magic that Harry isn’t good at?

“It was my brother” pg. 247 Oh no

“The Wardens would freak out if you went to them now, anyway” I said, “and reveled  that you’d been hiding your talents from them” pg.252  Why do the Wardens care? Is it so they can draft her? 

Why don’t you like boats Harry?

“In fact I haven’t had a good time this close to the lake in general” pg. 260 Harry I like you but I need to know those are fighting words What did Lake Michigan do to you? Lake Michigan is clearly the best lake out of the five. 

“I’m not sure I could have made a focus for something like that. It took real skill” pg. 260 Yes Harry has skills 

“Water Beetle” pg. 262 Ha is that a homage to the blue beetle? 

“There’s no way the real Dresden would have come here with a woman like that instead of his dog” pg. 267 Ha

“Thunderstorm. Or I just plug it into any wall socket” pg. 268 Interesting I thought electricity and magic don’t go together. But if this works then magitek could be a thing in the Dresden files which would be so cool

“He’s not a thing” I snarled “His name is Thomas” pg. 269 Couldn’t agree more Elaine that was rude to call Thomas a thing

“Fucking boats” pg. 273 Ha

“In the space of a heartbeat the water between where I stood and the next dock froze over, a sudden sheet of hard white ice” pg. 285 So cool that Harry used a fire spell to freeze part of Lake Michigan

Oh no Madrial has a assault rifle 

“Slim, dark-haired, pale, and handsome” pg. 289 Bi Harry 27

“Is there anything I could do to make you not trust me then?” I asked “Cause I don’t want to wear the cloak. No offense” pg. 297 Ha

Oh cool Lash can translate languages 

Harry, how are you going to explain that you know these ancient languages when you’re bad at Latin?

“She was naked from the waist down” pg. 316 Why is naked from the waist? Never mind, I don't want to know. Bad implications 

Well I agree that the ghouls need to die this definitely has some Lasciel influence with how brutal Harry is being cause this is just torture at this point

“I called up Hellfire again, and with a snarl cast out the simple spell I use to light candles.” pg. 318 Scary how Harry uses a not necessary harmless spell as it is a fire spell but a spell we’ve seen him use to light candles and fireplaces used in such a destructive way 

“Sixteen, Carlos,” I said “Sixteen” pg. 319 Too young 

“Never again” pg. 324 And Harry means it

“Oh sorry about that” I said, with all the sincerity of a three-year-old claiming he didn’t steal that cookie all over his face” pg. 336 Ha

“I love to see a good testosterone-laden alpha-male struggle as much as the next woman” pg. 336 Ha and it’s fun to see other people’s reactions to Harry and Thomas who aren’t in the know

Oh no three killers 

I wish Harry and Thomas could talk to each other

Oh no Anna :(

Nope Mouse is alive just gotta keep telling myself that 

What did Mouse do at the vet? Glad Harry could pay for the damages

Harry goes to Kim’s grave :(

“DuMorne’s methods of  teaching us to discipline our emotions had not been gentle, but they worked” pg. 349 The more I learn about Justin DuMorne training the more convinced I am that it’s just child abuse

“She doesn’t have a lot of talent that way” pg. 356 Oh she does have some talent 

“The Velvet Room? I thought I burned that plac- uh, that is, I thought some as-yet-unidentified perpetrator burned that place to the ground” pg. 365 Ha

Yes we’re getting Marcone!

“Marcone doesn’t like me,” I said “And it’s mutual” 

“Marcone doesn’t like anybody,” Murphy replied. “But he respects you” pg. 366 Marcone likes Hendricks. Yes Marcone does respect Harry. He might like him a little bit considering he saved Harry’s life and offered him a job twice. Now the shipper in me is gleefully saying that Marcone likes Harry a lot.  

“Murphy rapped her knuckles gently against mine” pg. 367 Yay fist bump 

“Stallings and I found an autographed picture of Julie Newmar on eBay.” pg. 368 That’s a good gift 

Harry’s a platinum member?

“Don’t ask me” I told her “I’m gay now” pg. 373 Ha

It’s nice that Marcone takes care of his employees 

Hendricks!

Harry really notices what Marcone is wearing. 

Also while I know it’s for the readers sake that Jim reminds us what characters look like so we don’t forget I find it amusing that Harry constantly describes people and their looks when he should know what they look like “his eyes were the color of worn dollar bills” pg. 379 yes Harry I remember what Marcone’s eye color is. You’ve described it in every book Marcone’s been in. 

“I am under no illusion about your fondness for myself and my business. I regard it as a preventive measure. In my judgment, my buildings are considerably less likely to burn to the ground during one of your visits if you are disoriented from being treated like a sultan. I do, after all, recall the fate of the last Velvet Room”

“Murphy snorted without taking her wary eyes from Marcone “He’s got a point, Dresden.” 

“That was one time” pg. 381 Ha and what Marcone is doing is working. Harry hasn’t set anything on fire yet. Also Harry you set fire to Marcone’s building that’s kind of hard to forget and I doubt he’d want it to happen again. Think of his insurance 

“Marcone’s voice cracked like a whip. “Stop everyone” 

We all did” pg. 381 Cool

“Marcone blinked once” pg. 382 Oh Marcone blinked that seems to be his tell I guess or at least he’s not as in control at this moment. It’s always interesting and I like that Harry notices it mostly because he causes them

“I don’t believe it’s polite to gloat” Helen murmured to him. 

“If you knew this man, you would realize what a rare moment this is” he replied “I’m savoring  it” pg. 384 Ha and I didn’t realize that Helen was now working for Marcone interesting 

“He wasn’t wearing a business suit. He had on jeans and a black leather jacket. His hair was longish, a little mussed and he also sported a stubble of a beard that gave him a rakish look that would attract attention from the girls who fantasized about indulging with a bad boy” pg. 393 Bi Harry 28 I think. Just the girls Harry hm 

“His eyes were still green-but they were the green of summer hunter’s blind, bright and intelligent and predatory, but touched with more…something. Humor, maybe. More life” pg. 393 Oh interesting I wonder if this event with Persephone is what caused his eyes to change or if age and world warily changed them

It’s fascinating that both Demeter and Marcone this is a defining moment. For Demeter it’s her daughter who she thinks died. For Marcone he watched an innocent girl “die” from a bullet that was meant for him. And that caused him to climb the ranks and clean up the streets. 

“Owie” pg. 395 Sobbing 

Wait if Pricscalla is Skavis and we’ve established that Skavis is a man…I swear if this book pulls a creepy cross dresser a la Psycho, Dressed to kill, and Silence of the lamb I’m going to lose it

Molly what are you doing here? It’s dangerous 

“I. Am. Not. Yoda” pg. 401 Scary 

The mini sun was scary it was definitely Lash influenced 

“Sure, we’d  face somethings as children that a lot kids don’t. Justin had qualified for his Junior de Sage Badge in his teaching methods for dealing with pain” pg. 416 Not sure what Junior de Sage Badge means but if Justin’s involved then it probably isn’t good

“Rather effeminate-looking man” pg. 424 COME ON! >:( this is so stupid and a bit transphobic Jim you didn’t have to have this villain nor this plot point. I hate the whole creepy cross dresser trope as I feel that it’s transphobic. I don’t have the right words to describe or articulate the many reasons why this is bad so I’m going to stick to this sucks

“Once you start thinking, Gee maybe that isn’t me  thinking about suicide, it kind of falls apart” pg. 427 Interesting 

“The sigil of angelic script, the only unburned flesh on my left hand, itched madly” pg. 440 Interesting 

“I interpreted him purely because I knew how much it would annoy him” pg. 442 Ha

“Look, we both know you’re going to do it, and I’m too tired to dance” pg. 442 Ha

“There was a moment of silence that might have been vaguely irritated. Being adolescent at someone like Marcone is good for my morale” pg. 442 Ha 

“We both know you need me, Dresden, and I’m too tired to dance.” I could practically see the shark smile on his face.” Ha 

“Say please.” I stowed for a sullen minute before I realized that doing so was probably building Marcone’s morale, and I couldn’t have that. “Fine,” I said. “Please.” 

“Pretty please,” Marcone prompted me.

Some pyromaniacal madman’s thoughts flooded my forebrain, but I took a deep breath, Tasered my pride, and said, “Pretty please.” 

“With a cherry on top.” 

“Fuck you,” I said, and hung up on him. I kicked the base of the vending machine and muttered a curse. Marcone was probably laughing his quiet mirthless little laugh. Jerk” pg. 443 Ha I love their banter and the way Harry brings Marcone down to his level of humor and it makes Marcone seem younger. Cause who else teases Marcone no one but Harry as far as I can see. Harry’s the only one stupid enough or brazen enough to do it. I love to see it. Can’t wait for more. 

“Lasciel manifested her image to me again. The fallen angel’s manner was subdued, and her voice had something in it I had rarely heard there-uncertainty.” pg. 447 Interesting  

“She was wearing the usual white tunic, though her hair seemed a little untidy” pg. 448 More interesting things she’s changing 

“My head,” I told her “My rules. We aren’t finished” pg. 451 Ha and Harry’s not wrong 

“Because you’re so noble” she purred” pg. 452 Purred?!? 

“You. Cannot. Change. Me.”

“Lady, you ain't Lasciel” pg. 453 But he can and will 

“How many shadows like you have ever stayed in a host like me longer than a few weeks, huh? Longer than three years?”

“Never” pg. 457 So cool

“Pretty much,” I said. “From a grumpy old Scot on a farm in the Ozarks” pg. 475 Ha and I would love to see Harry’s apprenticeship with Ebenezer 

“A virgin” pg. 489 I was right about Carlos. Why would you come to the succubus vampire den and be a virgin? That doesn’t sound safe 

“Fairies, tiny pixies, each surrounded by its own sphere of light, trapped and miserable, crouched in the cages” pg. 496 Oh no why would you do that to the Little Folk? What’d they ever do to you? 

Justine!

“Groovy, I thought. Thanks, Lash

A started second passed. Then she replied, You are welcome” pg. 504 When was the last time Lashciel got thanked? Lash certainty seems shocked by it. When was the last time she was treated as a person?

“Damn, there aren’t nothing like a good entrance” pg. 509 Ha 

“You can barely speak Latin, but you speak ghoul?” pg. 524 How are you going to explain this?

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen,” I hollered, “to Bowling for Vampires” pg. 536 Ha

Marcone to the rescue!

“His cold green eyes wrinkled at the corners” pg. 556 I think Marcone is amused by Harry’s antics 

“No. Threats won’t deter you. We both know that. I can’t force you to do anything, and we both know that too.” I jerked my head at the cavern. “People are dying, John. Help me save them. God, please help me” 

Marcone’s head rocked back as if I’d slapped him. After a second he asked “Who do you think I am, wizard?” 

“Someone who can help them,” I said “Maybe the only one” 

He stared at me with empty, opaque eyes.

Then he said, very quietly, “Yes.” 

I felt a fierce smile stretch my mouth” pg. 559 bsbshjsvshjshejskanaj Ahh! I love this so much. Ok I need to stop giggling and kicking my legs like I’m 12 again. Ok I’m good now. My shipper heart loves this. Interesting how similar Marcone and Harry are with how threats and being forced to do things won’t work. I like that Harry calls Marcone by his first name. I like how before Harry said please begrudgingly with Marcone doing to annoy Harry but here with people’s lives on the line Harry does it easily and without hesitation. I love Marcone’s reaction he’s clearly shocked and didn’t expect it and he’s reeling. Then he asks Harry who considers him a bad person why he would choose Marcone to be good and Harry’s he thinks Marcone can help. When was the last time Marcone saved innocent lives without repayment or selflessness. Probably before he was part of the mob if ever. I love the description of opaque eyes as Marcone is letting Harry see his emotion and Marcone is clearly thinking about what to do. Harry believes and trusts Marcone to do the right thing or else he wouldn't have askedI. Harry’s banking on that little kernel of good that he saw in Marcone’s soul. I love that Marcone agreed to help but I doubt anyone heard him say yes except for Harry. I love that Harry’s response to that is to smile. I love that Harry can get such big reactions out of Marcone like back in Death Mask with with shroud and now with Harry asking Marcone for help. 

You mentioned that when you write already in love Marcone you like White Night. I assume you were talking about this scene. 

“Murph” I complained, “can’t you pick on someone your own size” pg. 560 Ha

“Hell’s Bells, I’m good” pg. 577 Ha 

“Nice shot” Marcone noted” pg. 579 Oh Marcone complimented Harry

“Bloody Hell” he gasped “Harry. There’s a knife in my leg. When did that happen?”

“In the dual,” I told him. “Don’t you remember?” 

“I thought you stepped on me and sprained my ankle,” Ramirez replied. Then he blinked again. “Bloody hell. There’s a knife in my guts.” He peered at them. “And they match” pg. 584 Ha

“Can you walk?”

“Yes. I can walk” I snapped 

“I could get someone to carry you” Marcone said, his tone was solicitous and sincere.

“Bite me” pg. 585 Ha and that fact that Marcone was concerned and sincere in his response. I kinda want to know what would happen if Harry said yes. He’s so tall I feel it would a little silly

“No one likes a wiseass Harry” pg. 586 Ha and come on Murphy being a wiseass is Harry’s personality 

“If you recall,” he said, “I agreed to extract you  alive. I’m not leaving until I have done so” pg. 587 Marcone does keep his word

“My God” Marcone said, his voice hushed “It is the most beautiful nightmare I’ve ever seen” pg. 589 Ha glad to see even Marcone is affected by Lara and Thomas

I wonder what Marcone’s thinking about with Vittorio attack? Probably something to do with Amanda 

Lash accelerating Harry’s brain is cool

“Why do you continue to be so stubborn about this my host?” pg. 593 Lash you’ve been in Harry’s head for three years. You should know how stubborn he is 

“An Outsider,” Lasciel said. “I have felt such a presence before. This attack is drawn directly from the mind of an Outsider” pg. 597 Interesting  

“If frying my brain got Murphy, Ramirez, Thomas, and Justine out of the mess I’d gotten them into, it would be worth it.” pg. 595 Harry just loves his friends so much 

“She…doesn’t deserve you” pg. 595 If the shadow of a fallen angel thinks you’re too good for the real one that means something 

“Kiss me. I know it seems weir-” pg. 608 Lara didn’t even let Harry finish his sentence 

“There’s an outside chance that I have abandonment issues” pg. 615 Ha

“Still…a man like you and it’s been four years…” She shook her head. “I have enormous personal respect for you, wizard. But that’s just sad” pg. 615 Ha

“Lara looked back at me for a moment and then she…turned pink” pg. 615 Is Lara embarrassed? 

“I looked slowly around the ruined room. There was a hole in house, almost perfectly round, right through the floors above us and the roof four stories. Bits and pieces were still falling” pg. 618 Ha 

“Some Listerine,” I said “I’ve got a funny taste in my mouth” pg. 619 Ha

“We use the money. We expand the Ordo, build a network of contacts. A hotline for midddle-class practitioners. We contact groups like the Ordo in cities all around the country. We put the word out that if people are in some kind of supernatural fix, they can get word of it onto the network. Maybe if something like this starts happening again, we can hear about it early and stomp on the fire before it grows. We teach self-defense classes. We help people coordinate, cooperate, support one another. We act” pg. 635 Yes! I love this idea. This is what the White Council should be doing. I hope it grows and helps people. 

“The Black Council,” I said.

“Oooh,” Ramirez muttered. “Yours is better” pg. 639 Ha

“You don’t leave an injured friend all alone.” pg. 640 Aw :)

“Tonight you will be visited by three spirits,” I announced “The ghosts of past, present, and future. They will teach you the true meaning of ‘you are still a scumbag criminal’” pg. 640 Ha 

“Marcone was there, sitting behind the desk was Helen Beckitt, or maybe Helen Demeter, I supposed. She wore her professionally suggestive business suit and was sitting across Marcone’s lap. Her hair and suit looked  slightly mussed. Marcone had his third shirt button undone.” pg. 641 jfhfjfyrhfjkgjfhdhd I shouldn’t have drank something before this ow my lungs pain. I hope Jim is happy with himself because my lungs hurt thanks to him. I knew that Marcone and Helen were sleeping together but I didn’t realize this is how we learn about it. Wait, Harry seems less shocked than I thought he’d be. Wait did Harry figure it out back in chapter 29? Before me even though I had prior knowledge what? Did I miss something? All Helen did was put her hand on Marcone’s shoulder. This does have more interesting implications.

“I cursed my timing. If I’d come ten minutes later, I’d had opened the door in media res. It would have been infinitely more awkward” pg. 641 Awkward for who Harry cause Marcone and Helen don’t seem like the type to get embarrassed. Also why would you want to walk in on them? 

“You should see how much my insurance premiums go up after your visits, Dresden” pg. 641 Ha

“Maybe Helen deserved to know about her daughter. Hell she probably did. But whatever else Marcone was, he was no fool. If he thought the news of her daughter’s fate might shatter Helen, he was probably right. Sure, she should know. But did I have a right to make that decision” pg. 646 Interesting I’ve never wanted more than to crawl into Marcone’s head than I do now. What are you thinking Marcone?

“I looked at the third line.

Then I signed it, and left without another word. pg. 648 Oh interesting that Harry was Marcone’s third signing. Harry really did help Marcone with becoming the first freeloading accord member as I doubt Marcone could have gotten Lara’s if Marcone hadn’t come to the rescue 

“Free will is horrible, Harry, believe me. I’m glad I don’t have it.” pg. 651 Are you sure you don’t have a little free will Bob? Cause back in Death Mask you didn’t do what Cowl wanted and instead helped Harry. That could be because Harry Named Bob

“Hey, Harry are you crying” pg. 652 Sobbing 

“I started playing 

Beautifully” pg. 652 More sobbing I knew this was coming but I’m still sad. 

Thomas is a hair stylist yay! 

Final thoughts 

General thoughts about the book

I thought the fights were good and I found the book funny. We’re up to Bi Harry 28 moments. I’m counting Harry’s description of young Marcone and nobody can stop me. I always enjoy Marcone and Harry banter. I love that part where Marcone offers to get someone to carry Harry. Marcone was in the book so that’s always a good thing. I’m sad for Harry that people are scared of him now. That’s going to continue to happen now that he’s the Winter Knight. The ghouls got what they deserved. I loved the Mouse lore we got. If my math is right it’s been four years since Death Mask so Maggie is roughly three at this point. I can’t wait to see what Harry and Elaine do with this organization. Will the Alphas be a part of it? As always I have thoughts about this book. 

White Council 

Now about this test. What I’ve gotten from the world building is that there are small, mid, and high practitioners of the Art. The White Council only lets the high/mid practitioners in if they pass a test. I have so many questions about the lore. Elaine seems to know how to show talent but not enough to meet the membership requirements. Now onto Justin he just keeps getting more secrets. Why would Harry think that Justin was training Harry and Elaine if there’s not at least a little truth. Maybe that’s another reason the White Council doesn’t like Harry is that they’re afraid of him. It could explain why the wardens would be upset about Elaine. If so it seems really stupid on the White Council’s part as if they keep alienating Harry he’s not going to want to be a part of the Council. While the Council kicks Harry out instead of Harry leaving it will probably have the same effect as now Harry has no ties  nor allegiance with them and I doubt he will be all that nice to them in the future. If the White Council keeps treating Harry as a black sheep or a monster, that's the fastest way Harry will become one. Self fulfilling prophecy and all that. 

Priscilla reveal 

I didn’t like it. I feel like the same plot point could have happened if Priscilla was a cis woman. I hope it was unintentional but what I got from this whole chapter is the creepy crossdresser serial killer like the villain in all the movies I mentioned. Which isn’t great for transgender men. As these tropes and media could lead the general public to think that transgender men are violent and dangerous. As statistically transgender men have been the victim of violence rather than the perpetrators. It perpetuates this myth that transgender men should be feared. 

Lash 

I knew she was going to die but her death still got to me. Redemption and self actualization are beautiful things. I wish we got to see more Lasciel and Lash moments in the books. To see what she was before and then to see what she could become. It would have been interesting to see how their dynamic would develop and how her character would evolve. As I feel like Lash became a separate entity entirely when she redeemed herself. As she was a shadow of a fallen angel with free will and choice that has got to do something. Her and Harry could have been a foil to the denarians in that Harry and Lash have an equal partnership. I love that she left him their music and I know this moment is when Bonnie is conceived. As I mentioned before, when was the last time anyone thanked Lash or now when was the last time anybody grieved for her? Surely after her fall God grieved for her and the choices she made. I doubt the denarians will. Harry must be so lonely now. He’s had Lash in his head for three years now. While they weren’t friends and they didn’t talk to each other much in three years is a long time. His head must be so quiet and lonely. He’s presumably the only one who will grieve for Lash. Well now I’ve made myself cry.

Marcone and Helen 

Hooboy do I have questions. So Helen now works for Marcone. Presumably after she got out of prison. She probably wants to get close to Marcone so she can kill him. Surely Helen was the one who asked for a job and the one who brought up sleeping with Marcone. Why would Marcone agree to this? He doesn’t seem like the type to sleep with an employee. Why would he sleep with the mother of the child that’s currently in a coma that she blames Marcone for? This puts Helen in a unique position as I assume Marcone put two and two together about the Three Eye drug, Tommy Tomm, and Victor Sells. And he must know that Helen had a part to play in Tommy’s  death. And Marcone hasn’t done anything to her. Given the fact that Marcone’s usual response to his men dying is fatal retribution it’s interesting that he hasn’t done anything to Helen. As for telling Helen that her child is alive. Yes, someone should tell her. That’s her daughter. Marcone doesn't know what Helen will do if she finds out. She deserves to know. And Marcone shouldn’t have kept Amanda a secret from Helen. That was not Marcone’s choice. Maybe it’ll stop her from trying to kill Marcone. Hopefully Harry will tell Helen now that Harry’s got Maggie and is a parent.

Onto the next book!

[amessageonthewind]

Winter's Blessings

Synopsis: A particularly bitter winter puts the safety of the Pearl Clan at risk, and it's up to the Galaxy Team and the Diamond Clan to help them survive the harsh blizzard, uncovering an ancient tradition whose origins were lost to time.

Pairing: Adaman/Rachel during Legends: Arceus (spoiler alert for really far along in the timeline)

Author's note: Clue is an OC that belongs to my buddy @kammyclues.

Rachel’s first winter in Hisui had come bitter, the sharp wind biting and nipping at her soft skin as she stepped outside her warm lodge kept heated on the lit hearth inside. Though it started to grow colder and the ground beneath her feet lacked the spongey soft give it had in the autumn, she was still surprised by just how cold it felt when she stepped out. There was even frost on the rooftops of Jubilife Village despite the sun being just shy of its highest peak, small piles of snow collected in the shadows.

She shuddered, holding her arms. “Brrr! This is kinda chilly even for me…” The woman remarked, her loyal dark-furred Zorua on her shoulder pressing himself underneath her chin in an attempt to keep her sensitive and exposed neck warm. Laughing a little bit, she reached to give him a friendly scratch and nuzzled into his fur. “Heh…thanks, buddy.”

“Chilly, yeah?” A voice called out as he approached, her other fellow Survey Corp member greeting her warmly as he approached, his Pikachu following alongside him. “Winter doesn’t usually come this early, but I guess it couldn’t wait, could it?”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Rachel agreed, already making a mental note to dress a bit warmer if she was going to go out and do survey work. Especially if she was going to work in the highlands or the icelands, though it might be a better idea to skip them with this weather.

Though, she couldn’t help but worry about the Pearl Clan and Irida. If it was already this cold here, it was probably a hundred times worse in the coldest part of the region. “Oh, yeah! Almost forgot. Commander Kamado wants to see you.”

Nodding, Rachel began to make her way to the Galaxy Hall to see him. She never really liked meeting with him much, always acutely aware of how much of an outsider she was. Mostly because he took every opportunity to remind her of it whenever he could, as though she didn’t already know it and as though she hadn’t already gained the trust and companionship of the leaders of both clans.

Oh well, it couldn’t be helped. If Kamado wanted to be a shrewd and suspicious old man, then let him. It wasn’t Rachel’s problem and she had proven to be capable enough of looking after herself if he couldn’t do what needed to be done.

Making her way up the stairs up to his office, giving a friendly wave to Professor Laventon as she passed by, she spotted a familiar cerulean silhouette in the doorframe, eyes widening. Clan business. Of course. But to her surprise, Irida was not there. In her place was Calaba, Ursaluna’s aged warden of the Pearl Clan. It was odd, but perhaps this was an issue that didn’t need Irida’s oversight, which meant that maybe Rachel’s job would be easy today.

And maybe it meant that the relationship between the clans was improving. “Where’s Irida?” Rachel asked anyway, wanting to at least ask about the Pearl Clan leader (and her friend) and show her concern in both clan leaders. Speaking of which… “Why aren’t you more bundled up? You can’t stand the cold even at the best of times and it’s really crept up on us.”

Chuckling at her open concern, Adaman reached up to tug at the scarf she had given him last they ventured into the icelands together, smiling warmly at her as he tucked his chin into it more. “Winter did creep up on us in the mirelands, but we only really have to prepare for the dry season and then the wet season. But your scarf is surprisingly doing a good job of keeping me warm.”

Bashfully, a small grin creased her cheeks at the thought that he kept it so fervently. Kamado seemed to hum in vague interest at the prospect. “Yes, I had wondered why he was in possession of one of our scarves from our Survey Corp uniforms.”

Sensing a bit of judgement from her superior, Rachel shrugged, feeling a very minimal need to justify herself to him. “He was cold, so I gave him my scarf. Is that a problem?”

The weathered man shook his head, but it took him a moment before he responded at all as though he needed to actually think on that. “No, I suppose not. But that’s not why I called you here, Rachel.”

“Though the matter of Irida’s absence is relevant.” Calaba responded, the stout old woman turning to face Rachel. Stubborn and prideful, but when the chips were down, she was often the first to suggest working together for the sake of the common good regardless of clan relationships. The incident with Arezu had taught them all a lot in that regard, it seemed, and Rachel was always glad for Calaba’s council. “Normally, regular correspondence is expected. However, for a few days, now, things have been…silent from the Pearl Clan.”

“Like they haven’t been getting back to you?” Rachel asked, worry worming its way underneath her veins and creeping into her chest.

“Yeah, and it’s not just the Pearl Clan, either.” Adaman interjected, crossing her arms with eyebrows furrowed. His eyes were downcast, as though he were finding it difficult to stay in the present moment with the concerns currently at hand. “We haven’t heard from Sabi, either. And she’s normally pretty frequent with staying in touch with us while she’s at the Snowpoint Temple. To not hear from her is…strange. To put it plainly, it’s not like her.”

Now, Rachel was beginning to understand the potential severity of the situation. “So, you’re both worried that something may have cut them off in the icelands?”

Calaba nodded gravely, head hung. “That is what we’re saying, young one.” She replied, shaking her head with a low groan. “I’ve even confirmed with the other wardens to make sure there hasn’t been some mistake. Irida hasn’t been heard from the others.”

“And the other wardens haven’t heard from Sabi, either.” Adaman added.

This certainly sounded worrying and Rachel didn’t like the thought that something had happened to Irida, especially with the biting winter that was quickly looming over them all. Of course, those in the Pearl Settlement were naturally acclimated to the cold in the polar north of Hisui, Irida especially easily overheating in contrast to how easily Adaman caught the chills. But even for someone like her, in bad enough conditions, could even be too cold for her.

Rachel then turned to Kamado, dark-eyed gaze stern as she regarded her superior officer. “And you haven’t heard from her, either?”

Kamado shook his head. “The Pearl Clan leader hasn’t responded to my messages, either. And I admit, it is a cause for concern.”

So the situation was potentially grave. “So, then what do we do?”

“That depends on the severity of the situation…” Kamado replied, reaching up to worry at his dark beard. “The Alabaster Icelands are prone to blizzards quite frequently, but if the winter is particularly harsh, it may be too much for even us to handle venturing into.”

Narrowing her eyes at him, she shook her head. “You can’t seriously be suggesting we do nothing, knowing that this could potentially be a crisis.”

“I’m not saying that.” Kamado insisted sternly, squaring his shoulders at her. “But if the winter proves to be harsh in the icelands, then they could prove to be harsh here. We need as much of our resources as possible in that instance in case it grows harsher. We need to be mindful of how much of our help we need to offer without risking the welfare of our own people. Not to mention the risk that would be posed to our own if we were to send an expedition out there.”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem, Commander!” A bright and commanding voice announced, heavy footsteps that could only belong to one person drawing nearer to his office as the fiery woman greeted the group. “I’ve just gotten a message from one of my own men just outside of the Alabaster Icelands. The blizzards are really bad, bad enough that not even a single Flying Pokémon is in the sky. It’s too dangerous for even them to fly, a lot of the local Pokémon hiding away from the storm.”

Widening her eyes at Zisu, Rachel crossed her arms, brows furrowed. “So if the local Pokémon are forced into hiding by the storm, then there’s a good chance that the Pearl Settlement might be cut off, too.”

“And the dangerous flying conditions would explain the lack of correspondence as well…” Calaba muttered, worrying at her chin.

Shaking his head at the Security Corp captain, Kamado continued to insist, staying rooted in his positon. “All the more reason to be conscious of our supplies and what we can offer.”

“Commander, with all due respect, we have plenty of supplies we can offer the Pearl Clan. We have food farmed from the finest crops in Hisui by the finest workers to till it. We’ve got lots of winter clothes and blankets we can offer, and plenty of firestarting materials to help them stay warm until the storm blows over.” The muscular crimson-haired woman in carmine uniform then turned to look at Rachel directly. “And, my Security Corp troops would be led by the best the Survey Corp has to offer.”

Blushing a little bit at the praise, Rachel chuckled a bit bashfully. She never knew what to do with praise. But Kamado still didn’t seem convinced. “Even if we have the materials, transporting them would still be incredibly dangerous and it’s not guaranteed that you won’t be attacked and lose the supplies to a wild Pokémon.”

“I’ve seen how tough Rachel’s Pokémon are, and mine aren’t anything to sneeze at either.” Zisu insisted, throwing an arm around Rachel and patting her shoulder a bit roughly, though the much smaller woman appreciated the gesture. “Besides, do you really have such little faith in your own Security Corp that you don’t think we can handle a blizzard?”

“I would never suggest that.” Kamado replied, sighing. His will was wavering, but his sense of caution still seemed to overrule the support for such a decision. “But there’s no guarantee.”

“Hey, hang on a second! Why are we all acting like I’m not planning to help?” Adaman quickly interjected, stepping forward to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Rachel, facing Kamado. “I’m worried about Sabi, naturally. She’s one of our own and she’s…just a kid. A very capable warden, don’t get me wrong. But she’s still a kid, regardless. But I’m just as worried about the Pearl Clan and about Irida.” His dark gaze then settled in Calaba, intent behind them as he regarded the old woman. “We may not always see eye to eye and our differing beliefs may put us at odds, but I don’t like thinking about a world where the Pearl Clan suffers and I didn’t do anything to help as leader of the Diamond Clan. We may be at odds, but we all share this ancient and sacred land of Hisui. We all have a right to live here, and it wouldn’t be right for me not to help. I have to do something and I know we can contribute our own supplies, too.”

Nodding, Calaba gave the young leader an amused smile, the age creasing pleasantly as she regarded the man. “Wise words, Adaman. You’ve grown quite a bit since Arezu’s little mess.”

Though Rachel was touched that Adaman wanted to help Irida as much as she did, she didn’t want to put the Diamond Clan at risk, either. “But what about your clan?”

“Mai’s in charge until I get back.” He replied, smiling affectionately at Rachel with a small smirk. “Besides, since I’m assuming you’ll be taking Wyrdeer with you, her duties will be better fulfilled back at the settlement in the mirelands. If there’s anyone I trust to run things while I’m gone, it’s her.”

“You know me so well.” Rachel replied just as warmly, a soft dusting of rose on her cheeks as she then turned to address Calaba. “And if you’ll allow me, I’d also like to take Ursaluna with us as well. If there’s a chance anyone from the Pearl Clan is missing, finding them as quickly as possible is a top priority.”

“Of course, I understand. You have my blessings, young one.” The old woman replied, turning to Kamado. “Well? It seems that we’ve reached an accord. Do you find this acceptable, Commander?”

Glancing between everyone, it was clear that Kamado was outnumbered and reluctantly, he sighed in defeat. “If the Diamond Clan is going to contribute as well and Captain Zisu is confident in the viability of this plan, then I suppose we are in accord.” He finally agreed, shaking his head. He then turned to address the Diamond Clan leader himself, his expression stern. “And in a way, Adaman is right. We all share this land. In a way, we do have to work together to preserve our ways of life. And if there is no Pearl Clan, there is no preserving their way of life.”

Nodding, the group turned to leave. “I’ll go round up the best of the Security Corp and get our supplies together.” Zisu said, patting Rachel on the back as she grinned. “Can’t wait to actually work with you and see you in action in the wild, Rachel! See you there!”

“I’ll go inform the other Pearl Clan wardens and let them know a decision has been made and help is on the way.” Calaba added, taking Rachel’s hand and patting it. “You’re a stubborn one. You’ll need that resolve.”

Smiling at her as she walked away down the stairs, Adaman was the last person in the room, gently putting an arm around Rachel and leaning against her. “I’ll go get everything ready.” He said to the woman, leaning in to murmur into her ear. “Meet you there?”

Looking up at him, Rachel gave him an affectionate smile. “Definitely. And you’d better bundle up properly, this time.”

Laughing a little, he walked past her down the stairs to go on his way to do just that, a joint effort now being achieved and the task before her feeling daunting. “Just a moment, Rachel.” Kamado’s voice said behind her. Pausing, she steeled herself, already mentally preparing for a talk about how as an outsider, she needed to prioritize keeping their trust above all else and how they were likely going to be quick to distrust her if something happened on her account. Nothing she wasn’t already used to. “Be careful…please.” He said quietly in a tone of voice that was rather…uncharacteristic of him, making Rachel turn to face the weathered commander. He was as visibly stoic as ever, but his slacked shoulder betrayed his concern. “The icelands will be more dangerous than any of your other expeditions. Please keep this in mind and do your best to help them without putting the relationship between the clans in jeopardy.”

Nodding, Rachel sighed through her nose. “I will, Commander.”

“And remember, if you fail…they will blame you first as an outsider.” He added sternly. “Keep that in mind.”

Ah, there it is. “I will. Thanks.” Walking out of the commander’s office, Rachel hung her head back. Of course he couldn’t help but remind her of her place as he always did. It was kind of redundant and useless at this point, considering how close she was with both the Diamond and Pearl Clan at this point. “You’d think he’d get tired of saying the same thing over and over again, wouldn’t you?” She said to Cedric, loyally seated on her shoulder.

He shrugged. “Eh, sometimes I think he just likes to hear himself talk and sound more intimidating than he actually is.”

Rachel couldn’t help but laugh a little as they talked in low tones to each other to not draw attention to themselves. “Yeah, he wasn’t even brave enough to spar with Stormfast when I offered the chance for him to. Yet, I can do it no problem and not be afraid.”

“She can be scary.” Cedric pointed out before he nudged his trainer affectionately. “But you’ve gotten pretty good with swords, now, thanks to her. Not to mention fighting an enemy that’s bigger and stronger than you. You finally managed to beat her, yesterday.”

“Yeah! That was huge!” Rachel exclaimed, quietly flexing her arms to feel the muscles in her biceps harden and bulk under her Security Corp uniform. “I feel like I’ve gotten so much stronger since we wound up here. Wait until everyone at home sees it.”

“You might even be able to pick up Clue without breaking a sweat.” Cedric teased, grinning at her with a toothy maw.

Rachel chuckled at her dearest companion. “We’ll see.” Someday.

As she walked out the door of the Galaxy Hall, a familiar face greeted her, blond hair covering half his face and tucked underneath his Ginkgo Guild hat, hefty backpack slung on his shoulders as always. “Good morning, Rachel.”

Smiling warmly, Rachel approached him. “Good to see you, Volo.” He had become such an inexplicably comforting presence since her arrival in Hisui, his eerie familiarity eventually explained by his resemblance to her sister, Cynthia. Which meant that he was likely an ancestor of theirs. That he was family. Not to mention that he also shared their passion for history and ruins made Rachel feel even more of a kinship. That she now knew where who she and her sister were came from. “The cold making your work any harder?”

“Oh, not at all! Though it’s kind of you to be concerned.” He replied, grinning at her before he put a hand on his hip. “What’s this I hear about a dangerous expedition into the Alabaster Icelands?”

Naturally, Volo would be curious. There was a fair bit of hubbub now, especially with Zisu running around and rounding up Security Corp members and starting to gather supplies in packed crates. “The winter’s hit the Alabaster Icelands pretty hard and we’re concerned that the Pearl Clan could be in a lot of danger due to the storm. The Diamond Clan is pitching in supplies and aid as well.”

“Is that so?” Volo replied curiously, bringing a hand up to his chin to ponder. “Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you. Though, if you’re interested, I may have heard something of a myth that may catch your fancy.”

Rachel raised an eyebrow at him. “A myth, you say. Do tell.”

“I may have to refresh my memory on the subject myself, but if I recall correctly, there is a quartet of legendary nature spirits that migrate to Hisui in seasonal rotation.” Volo continued to explain, eyes closed as he reminisced on the tale. “One heralds the spring, one heralds the summer, another the autumn, and another the winter. Each one brings something to Hisui, whether it be storms or blessings.”

Nature spirits. How intriguing. “And you think they may have something to do with the severity of the snowstorm?”

“It’s possible.” Volo replied vaguely, resting his hands at his sides as he regarded the smaller woman. “If I remember correctly, I believe the winter spirit is known as Tornadus.” Cedric’s ears immediately pricked at the name. It was…familiar to him. He had heard it somewhere before! “It’s incredibly powerful, but I have confidence in your abilities. If it is indeed causing the storm, then perhaps defeating it will abate it.”

Nodding appreciatively, Rachel gave him a smile. “Thanks for the heads up, Volo. I’ll keep that in mind while I’m out there in the blizzard.”

“Of course! Can’t have my favourite customer getting lost in a snowstorm, now can I.” Volo replied brightly, pointing as he spoke to her. “Be safe, Rachel.”

“Thanks. You take care, now, Volo.” She wished, walking away from Volo towards her lodge to get ready for the oncoming journey and quest. It sounded like it was going to be tough, so she needed to be properly prepared.

As she walked away, Cedric suddenly whispered into her ear. “I’ve heard that name, before.” He said to his trainer. “Tornadus. It’s a Unovan myth, I think.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, Rachel tilted her head. “Really?”

“Yeah. And Volo said that they migrate in seasonal rotations, right?” Cedric pointed out. “They might be migrating from Unova.”

“You really think?” Rachel asked, intrigued at the thought that their myths might have some overlap.

Cedric nodded, though his head was bent down in thought. “But…I only remember three nature spirits. Not four…so I’m not really sure what that’s about.”

Reaching up to pet him, scratching him behind the ears and ruffling the large tuft of fur on his head, Rachel nuzzled against his cheek. “Well, maybe we’ll figure that out on our own time.” She assured him as they stopped in front of the door to their lodge, hands on her hips as she took in a deep breath. “But for now, let’s get ready for a long trip in the freezing cold.”

It was just before sundown by the time everyone met up in the Alabaster Icelands - the golden hour. Though, one wouldn’t be able to tell with how thickly the sun was blotted out by dark clouds and how violent the snowstorm was. They could only see a few feet in front of them collectively, but Rachel had traveled through these icelands enough to know its hazards intimately. Feeling the biting winds whipping against her face, it became clear exactly why communications were cut off – these weren’t safe conditions for any bird Pokémon to fly in to deliver any.

She was confident she could guide them, the Security Corp led by Captain Zisu behind her with all the supplies gathered and pulled along on sled-like boards that helped them move easily over the ice and snow. But they would need to be careful.

Wyrdeer and Ursaluna were both dutifully by her side, waiting for the woman to give the sacred Pokémon her commands. They may not be hers, but for now, they followed her since she was in charge. “So, what’s the plan, Survey Corp girl?”

“There’s a chasm just ahead of us that blocks our way across.” Rachel pointed out, gesturing in front of them just where the blizzard cut off their visibility. “It’s not too deep, so if anyone falls in, they should be fine. But it’ll still be a pain to get across, especially with the supplies we need to ferry across. Making sure they get across without getting damaged is paramount.”

Zisu nodded in agreement. “Right you are.” She agreed, hefting her backpack onto the ground and pulling out a series of supplies, including pegs, ropes, and planks all tied together. “Lucky for you, I had a feeling we’d run into trouble like this. You’re pretty good on that Wyrdeer, right?”

Shivering beside her, Adaman nodded through chittering teeth. He was wearing one more layer than usual, which annoyed Rachel a bit. “O-oh yeah. Sh-she’s p-p-pretty good. B-better than s-some of our m-m-most exp-perienced.”

Shaking her head at him, she sighed. It wasn’t like she could blame him too much for this. It wasn’t like he was used to the cold and this was a lot worse than anyone could’ve anticipated. Luckily for her, she was prepared for this, too. Nodding at Cedric, he quickly grabbed something out of her own bag and handed it to her, Rachel walking over to Adaman and draping it over his shoulders, pulling the hood over his head. “Put this on.” She ordered, giving him a stern look to make sure he knew that it wasn’t a request.

Unable to argue with her, the Diamond Clan leader quickly slipped his arms into the long sleeves and tied the cloak together in front of him, nuzzling his face into the scarf and hood and breathing out a sigh of relief. Though, the soft pale grey cloak was…familiar, in an odd way. He recognized the texture and scent when he took a moment to examine it. “Is this…Wyrdeer wool?”

“Yeah, I groomed Wyrdeer a while ago while he was blowing out his summer coat to prepare for the winter, and I felt like all that undercoat would’ve gone to waste. So, I had an idea and went to Anthe and she taught me how to spin wool myself and she helped me make this cloak out of it.” Looking up at Adaman, Rachel continued to adjust his cloak to make sure it sat snugly on him, appreciating how it looked on him. “How’s that feel?”

Looking down at her, he couldn’t help but smile. This was one of the things he appreciated most about her. When she saw a use for something or a way she could accomplish something, she did it. She put in the effort to learn how, if she didn’t know how, and put her everything into learning a new skill for the sake of it. He’d seen plenty of her wooden carvings to see that for himself, and he’d heard the improvements to her flute playing as another example.

Anything made by her hands was made with care and effort, and he appreciated that very much about her. “Much better. Thank you.”

“Good.” Rachel replied, trying to smirk at him before she met his gaze and grew bashful, her cheeks growing warm at the way he looked at her so warmly and affectionately. “I…made it especially for you. To help you not be so cold all the time.”

Another thing that he liked very much about Rachel. That she did not hesitate to do a kind thing for others simply because she could. She noticed a lot of little things about others and remembered them fondly. It showed in the gifts she made for others and the ways she complimented people.

It was what made every little gift from her so important. Every single gift and compliment was genuine. Her kindness was pure and it made Adaman appreciate the world just a little bit more just because she was in his. “What would I do without you?” He asked in a playfully sarcastic way.

Matching his energy, Rachel scoffed at him. “Freeze to death, probably.”

Feeling a strong hand slap against her backside, Rachel jumped a bit, Adaman startled a bit too despite having the visibility to expect it. “Not to break up the tender moment, but the sooner we get these crates across that ravine, the better.”

Nodding, Rachel had to agree. “Right. Priorities.” Turning to Zisu, she bowed her head, giving the Security Corp captain her full attention. “What’s your plan, if you have one?”

“You jump across that chasm on Wyrdeer’s back with these pegs, ropes, and planks holding one end, and I’ll hang onto the other from the other side and then we’ll set them up on both sides and carefully ferry across the supplies.” Zisu explained, using her hands to further illustrate her point to the pair. “Then, once all of the supplies are on the other side, then we navigate towards the Pearl Settlement and make sure they get there.”

It seemed like a sound enough plan, if a bit precarious. But she couldn’t help but worry even still, looking up at Zisu with furrowed brows. “And you’re sure the ropes will hold the weight of the crates?”

“Positive.” The fiery woman replied, broad shoulders squared. “And then, the rest is all up to you.”

“No pressure.” Rachel replied sarcastically, though she wasn’t actually bothered. After all, she agreed to lead this effort and she was nothing if not committed to her duty and to her plans. Feeling Wyrdeer and Ursaluna nudge her from behind, the shorter woman reached to give them both an affectionate and friendly scratch. “Come on, Wyrdeer. I’ll need you for this.”

The large white deer Pokémon bowed his head respectfully towards her. “At your service, traveler.”

Taking end of the makeshift bridge from Zisu, Rachel got onto Wyrdeer’s back, gripping onto the saddle handles tightly to stay on, feeling Adaman climb on after her, his chest pressed against her backside. Though she didn’t feel nervous at the moment, she appreciated the Diamond Clan leader’s presence too much to refuse it. After all, an extra pair of hands would help her focus with the limited visibility.

With the man holding onto the end, Zisu followed Rachel as she carefully led Wyrdeer forward until she found the edge of the ravine, working on muscle memory at this point. She had jumped this chasm a number of times and the icelands were no longer alien and unfamiliar to her. She knew every landmark by heart, even in this blinding blizzard.

Soon enough, the lip of the ravine came into view, Rachel leaning forward to confirm it before she turned back to the Security Corp captain and giving her a thumbs up before leading the captain right before the edge of it. Once Zisu was in position, Rachel led Wyrdeer back enough to keep the ravine just barely in line of sight and far enough back to have a good running start to get across the chasm.

Despite how easily this came to her, there was still a great deal of trepidation as she stood before the precipice. She was confident she had the distance right and would clear it. She had the proof by the sheer number of times she had done it, so much so that it had become second nature, at this point.

And yet, that fear was still there. She needed to push it down for the sake of the mission. The Pearl Clan depended on it, and being here in this relentless maelstrom only confirmed that.

Just as she expected, she easily cleared the chasm, stopping on the other side and getting off of Wyrdeer, waving at Zisu from the other side as they both walked backwards and pulled the ropes taught. Zisu secured her pegs on one side while Rachel did the same on hers, the pair testing the strength of it by both stepping on the bridge. It was a bit shaky for humans, but the crates should be able to get across with ease.

Carefully, each member of the Security Corp precariously pushed each crate across the plank bridge to the other side, the progress slow and steady. Though time was of the essence, the Pearl Clan couldn’t afford any of these crates being damaged or lost, so they had to take their time pushing each one across. Adaman and Rachel were quick to pull each crate onto the other side, the humans along with them. One-by-one, each member of the Security Corp was ferried across with a crate of supplies for the Pearl Clan until everyone was on the other side.

As they prepared to clear Whiteout Valley, Rachel watching Ursaluna carefully climb across the icy wall on one side of the chasm until he made it across to join the others. Rachel brought out Emberheart and Vendetta to flank the group, Emberheart as a Fire-type could help protect the party from hostile Ice-types and keep the group warm if they got lost, and Vendetta knew the territory as a native to this polar icescape.

Frequently, Rachel referenced her Arc Phone just to be sure that they knew where they were going. The two things they needed to be the most aware of were the icebergs that jutted out from underneath the ice to the surface and then the holes that led to the underground ice cave network beneath Avalugg’s Legacy. Which meant that they couldn’t just blaze through the blizzard to get to the Pearl Settlement and needed to take their time, much to Adaman’s anxiety. Though, she would be lying if she said she didn’t share his sentiment. Every moment that passed was a moment that the Pearl Clan could be without aid longer and longer, and the last thing she wanted was to get there too late to help them.

Eventually, with careful navigation around the unforgiving landscape, the bridge that led to the Pearl Settlement became visible, and the group began to ferry the supplies across it as Rachel made her way on Wyrdeer’s back towards the entrance.

Hopefully it wasn’t too late…she’d be glad to see Irida and the appearance of the Pearl Clan leader alone would be enough to abate most of her anxieties.

But when they arrived at the Pearl Settlement, Irida was not the one to greet them. In-fact, not a one of the typical residents of the settlement were outside (naturally), and the people who met them were none other than Gaeric, Lord Avalugg’s warden, and Sabi, Braviary’s warden. Rachel could feel the tension in Adaman’s body behind her melt when he saw that his clan’s warden was alright.

Like usual, the young forest green-haired child seemed completely unfazed by the current circumstance. “My clairvoyance told me that we would meet you here.” She greeted them as they approached. “It also showed me that you would come to help us. Will that come to pass?”

“It will, Sabi.” Naturally Adaman was the first to respond, dismounting from Wyrdeer and quickly approaching the young girl to scoop her up and hug her. Normally, he would be a bit more formal when addressing a warden of his clan in front of others, but he was just so relieved to find her safe and taken care of. “Where’s Braviary?”

“Taking roost besides the hot spring.” The young girl replied, eyes sparkling at Rachel. “You were able to surmise that the Pearl Clan was in danger, yet they weren’t able to call for help. Am I clairvoyant? Or are you?”

“It is impressive that you were able to figure out that we needed help.” Gaeric pointed out, arms crossed as, for once, the cyan-haired man wore a jacket instead of walking around shirtless. For a man who prided himself on how resilient and unbreakable he was to do such a thing spoke to the true severity of the situation. “How did you figure that out?”

“The absence of communication wasn’t a good sign, and the frigidness that crept up on us certainly didn’t help.” Rachel remarked as Zisu approached with her Security Corp, pulling supplies along into the settlement. Regarding Gaeric with utmost respect, the Survey Corp member nodded at him. “I’m beginning to realize that simple inevitability is my call to action.”

“Well, I’m glad to see that your fighting spirit and burning determination hasn’t been snuffed by the storm!” Gaeric replied with a proud mirthful chortle. “We could certainly use quite a bit of it.”

Quickly, Rachel realized that Irida had not yet made an appearance and a note of dread began to hum in the back of her mind when she exchanged a worried glance with Adaman while Security Corp personnel filed past them, waiting for Zisu’s or Rachel’s orders before proceeding. “Where’s Irida?” Adaman asked.

Her worries about the grave circumstances breaking down Gaeric were only further confirmed, the man’s confident and brazen demeanour reduced to an unsure and listless visage that almost felt alien to witness from the warden. “She…hasn’t come back.”

Worry began to bubble into a quiet panic, Rachel’s fears beginning to make themselves impossible to ignore in the back of her head. “What do you mean she hasn’t come back…?”

“Earlier today, she realized that if something wasn’t done…the storm could lead to us losing some of our own.” The Pearl Clan warden admitted, tone distant as though he himself were lost without Irida. And given the circumstances, Rachel could completely understand why. Even though he was the mentor to the Pearl Clan’s leader, this whole situation was completely unprecedented, outside of the expected and thus completely uncharted territory. And, naturally, he was worried. “So, she took it upon herself to try and find help…and she hasn’t returned, yet.”

“Are you serious?!” This was bad. Very bad. The Pearl Clan was desperate and in need of help and now they were without a leader. “And she went alone?!”

“She left me in charge.” Gaeric replied, squaring his shoulders in an attempt to appear in control and in charge, but the fact that Rachel couldn’t be convinced only further unnerved her and made her even more anxious. “She didn’t want to put anyone else at risk. Normally, I wouldn’t worry. After all, she learned from the very best and mightiest that the Pearl Clan has to offer! But…this is unusual, and I have not heard the tones of her Celestica Flute playing for hours, now. It leaves me feeling…well, not optimal.”

Growling under her breath, Rachel couldn’t contain her exasperation and her worries. “Argh…even when she’s trying to ask for help, she still thinks she has to do it alone without anyone else’s help…” Of all the lessons that she desperately wished that both clans would learn, putting their pride aside was one of them. After all, pride doesn’t keep food on the table and won’t keep you warm. Feeling Ursaluna worriedly nudge her shoulder, she knew what she had to do. “I’m going to go out to find her. Nobody else come with me, I’ll take Ursaluna to track her and Wyrdeer to get her back home safely.”

“Great, I’m coming with you!” Adaman proclaimed, already making to follow her.

Stopping him with a hand against his chest, forcing him back. “No. You stay here.” She ordered, her voice stern and firm as she stood her ground. As much as she wanted to have him by her side, the last thing she wanted to risk was Adaman being lost, too. “You’re needed here and I can’t risk losing you, too.”

The worry that flashed before his dark eyes was palpable, and it nearly made Rachel flinch when she met his gaze. “But…you can’t go out in this blizzard alone, you could get lost, too!”

“I have the Arc Phone, it tells me where I am and where I’m going at all times.” Rachel reminded him, feeling somewhat fortunate, for once, that she had the assistance of Almighty Sinnoh on her side. “And besides, I’m more used to being in the wilds on my own than you are. I’ll be with my Pokémon, and Wyrdeer and Ursaluna will be with me, too. I’ll be fine.”

“But – what do you expect me to do? Sit here and wait for you to get back?” Adaman retorted, worried aggravation evident in his raised tone of voice. “You know me well enough to know I can’t do that.”

She nodded in understanding. She did know him well enough. “I know…and I’m not asking you to.” Turning to Zisu, Rachel gave the Security Corp captain her command. “Start distributing supplies. Ration the food and make sure everyone gets warmer clothes and blankets and that there’s enough firestarting material to last until morning in each tent. Ensure they know that Gaeric’s met with us and that there’s a search in place for Irida.” Waiting for the Security Corp to be busy, Rachel leaned close to Adaman, reaching up to pull him in and hold him tightly. The Diamond Clan leader didn’t hesitate to bend down to wrap his arms around her, pressing her tightly to his body for comfort. “These people need you. Gaeric is a very capable man and he was Irida’s mentor, but he’s not their leader. You are a leader. He’ll need your help to figure out what to do and to keep everyone calm and level-headed. Your job is to make sure that the Pearl Clan knows that the Diamond Clan won’t abandon them and to keep the peace and prevent mass panic and hysteria. Think you can do that for me…?”

Sighing, Adaman nodded, but his grip on the small woman tightened, the man pressing his face into the side of her head. He was almost afraid to let her go out of fear of losing her in the blizzard, too. “But what about you…?”

Silent for a moment, Rachel held him tighter, too. “If something happens to me…the Galaxy Team loses a member of the Survey Corp.” She pointed out, pulling back to look Adaman in the face, heart aching when she saw just how worried he was when he gazed down at her. “But if something happens to you…the Diamond Clan will lose its leader. I can’t risk that.”

Eyebrows furrowing, Adaman grabbed onto Rachel’s shoulders, the strength of his grip telling her that she should listen to him intently. “If something happens to you…” He paused, the thought caught in his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, trying to force what he wanted to say out in the open. “…I’ll lose a dear friend. It’s bad enough that Irida’s missing…but I can’t bear the thought of the both of you getting lost.”

Softening, Rachel sighed through her nose and rested her hands over top of his, giving them a squeeze as she offered him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry.” She murmured softly to him. “Come doom or high water, I’ll make sure Irida comes home. I will bring her home. You have my word.”

“You’d better.” Adaman responded hardly, squeezing her shoulders before letting go of her, stepping back to let her go reluctantly. “I’m holding you to that.”

She was warmed that she had grown to mean that much to him, but right now, the task at hand was to find Irida and bring her home. She didn’t have to worry about the Pearl Settlement for now – it was in good hands. As she pulled Wyrdeer close, rallying Ursaluna, Emberheart, and Vendetta alongside her, Sabi giggled brightly at the woman as she turned to face the blistering blizzard once more. “Don’t worry, Rachel. I saw you stumbling across the bridge with Irida on your arm. Do you think it’ll come to pass?”

Regarding Sabi for a moment, Rachel knew her well enough to know a challenge when she heard one. It wasn’t about whether Sabi was right, it was never about that – it was about whether Rachel had the resolve to make her own way, whether Sabi foresaw it or not. Though she valued Sabi’s clairvoyance, she knew it was only a suggestion of the future rather than a prediction. “It’s not about what I think.” She said resolutely, gazing down at the young Diamond Clan warden with determination glinting in her dark eyes. “It must be done, so it will be. Simple as.”

Tilting her head, Sabi smiled at Rachel. “The real question is: will you succeed because I’ve seen it? Or in spite of it?”

That certainly was the real question, but now wasn’t the time for philosophical musings. Now was the time for action.

Tugging on Wyrdeer’s reins, the group was off, taking off into the snowstorm before it could get any worse. The sooner they located Irida, the sooner they could bring her back. Walking alongside Ursaluna, she put a hand on his backside, speaking gently to the large bear Pokémon. “Find the Pearl Clan’s leader, Ursaluna. You’re our only hope.”

As the Pokémon put his snout to the icy ground, Cedric leaned in to whisper directly into Rachel’s ear, feeling the worry rolling off of her like mist despite her best attempts to give the appearance of being in control of the situation. “Do you really think this is a good idea?”

“No.” Rachel replied immediately, patiently waiting for Ursaluna to catch a scent to try and find the lost Pearl Clan leader. Sometimes it could take a while for her to find a scent and they needed to be mindful of their surroundings, especially with consideration to the limited and lack of visibility. “But what choice do we have?”

Carefully, they navigated their way around the Alabaster Icelands, staying near Avalugg’s Legacy while they searched for any sign, any scent of Irida. It was difficult to do in this storm with how severe it was, but they needed to stay focused. They had a mission to accomplish and they would not rest until Irida was found and brought back home to her people.

She was likely looking for help, so they needed to try and find where Irida would have gone to look. But they also needed to be mindful of where she could’ve gotten lost and would have taken shelter. So far, Ursaluna wasn’t finding any sign of her around Avalugg’s Legacy in the centre of the icelands. That had to mean that Irida hadn’t taken shelter in the underground cave system, which meant they had to expand their search further.

But where to start? Where would she have gone to look for help? Where could she have taken shelter? Her only solace as to not getting lost was her Arc Phone, keeping her informed of her location at all times. Thanks for not completely forsaking me, almighty Sinnoh. Looking to Ursaluna, who was still moving slowly in an attempt to pay attention to any stray scent of Irida they could find, Rachel put a hand on the bear’s shoulder. “Any sign of her…”

Grievously, the Pearl Clan’s sacred Pokémon shook his head, nuzzling it into her hand. “I’m afraid not…the storm is wiping away every scent as soon as I catch it…” He moaned mournfully. He had ferried the Pearl Clan leader so many times that her scent was firmly committed to his memory, and yet when she was lost, he could not find her. “I’m sorry, traveler…”

The hopelessness in the Pokémon’s gruff voice gave Rachel pause, dread sinking into her gut that she forced down out of determined spite. “We can’t give up! She’s been gone for a day! We can still find her!” She said, nudging both Ursaluna and Wyrdeer. “Keep looking. We have to find her!”

As Rachel continued to press onward, Emberheart and Vendetta exchanged a look between them. They were naturally concerned for their wielder, but neither of them knew who should take the initiative. Normally, the Arcanine would, but since Vendetta was more familiar with this territory than she was having grown up and lived here, she felt that the Zoroark should. And since Vendetta felt that since Emberheart had known Rachel for longer than Vendetta had, the Arcanine should step up. But the inaction eventually led to inevitability, and Vendetta decided to make the decision to try and talk some sense into her.

Besides, this endeavour was partially driven by spite, which continued to intrigue the Zoroark. Spite to succeed and prove everyone wrong who was worried she would be lost in the storm, too. These continued demonstrations of spite, anger, rage, and hatred performed in the name of good – of kindness – slowly became less and less alien to Vendetta. What she had once seen as opposites in direct juxtaposition to each other she was beginning to realize was a catalyst for the other.

Spite was a spectrum, and humans had those in myriads. “Your conviction is strong…I’ll give you that.” Vendetta said to the human, flanking her dutifully alongside Emberheart, the Arcanine scanning their surroundings for any Pokémon that would dare try and interfere with their mission. “But you should consider what to do if you fail…or if time is not on your side. You must survive.”

Rachel grit her teeth, her jaw clenched as she glared at the white beast whose billowing rage whipped in the biting and cruel wind on sanguine tendrils from her brilliant and imposing mane. “None of that matters until we find Irida, and I won’t stop until she’s found.”

“But if you don’t make your own survival a priority, you will fail.” Vendetta pointed out, reaching out to grasp at her wielder’s shoulder, crimson claws digging into the thick fabrics that kept her body warm despite the frigid icescape around them. Though Rachel wanted to argue with her, she knew that Vendetta was right. If she didn’t protect herself, then Irida would be lost for good. “You can’t help anyone if you can’t help yourself.”

Relenting, Rachel let out a frustrated sigh. “If it comes to that…we’ll find shelter and try to wait out the storm.”

Nodding, Vendetta encouraged her to continue, the group following Ursaluna’s fruitful attempts to catch Irida’s scent. It felt bitterly hopeless, but Rachel wasn’t someone who obeyed odds. She was someone who succeeded in spite of them, so naturally, Vendetta stood firm by her. “If you hear her voice, be warned – it may be a trick.”

Scoffing, Rachel rolled her eyes. She remembered that all too well, when she once thought that Zinnia had followed her into Hisui and was lost in the Alabaster Icelands in the caves below, only to find that she had been tricked.

It was how she came to find Vendetta in the first place.

Suddenly, the Zoroark stilled, standing rigid and tall as her ears swivelled and twisted, as though she had caught a sound on the wind. Waiting intensely, Rachel’s eyes were glued to the white creature as she tried to discern what she was hearing. Finally, she spoke. “Her memories…! I can sense them!”

Eyes widening, Rachel gasped, reaching to take her Zoroark by the paws. “Where?! Where is she?!”

Regretfully, the Normal-Ghost-type shook her head, yellow eyes squinted against the snow that pelted her in the face. Despite having grown up in this bitter environment, it could still overwhelm even a creature like her. “I can’t sense where she is…only that she’s nearby.”

“But she’s close! That means we might be able to track her scent as long as we stay in the area where you can sense her memories!” Rachel cried, jubilation echoing across the frigid icescape before disappearing in the violent biting winds. Finally, real hope bloomed in her chest. If Vendetta could sense her memories, then that meant that Irida was alive! They would be able to find her and bring her home! Turning to Ursaluna, Rachel quickly climbed atop, gesturing out into the icy white that swirled around them. “Find her! She can’t be far!”

With renewed vigor, the Ground-Normal-type bear pressed his snout to the sharply cold ice beneath him, determined to find his clan’s leader. Now that they knew for certain she was close by and that she was alive, they couldn’t fail. They couldn’t give up, now that it was possible. Not when they were so close! Carefully navigating the blizzard, staying within the area where Vendetta could sense Irida’s memories, they found themselves patrolling and investigating Arena’s Approach. Perhaps in her desperation, the Pearl Clan leader was on her way to beseech the help of Lord Avalugg to save them.

Finally, Ursaluna caught the scent of his dear leader, moving at a much faster pace, running and galloping with even greater speed so much so that Wyrdeer struggled to keep up. Emberheart and Vendetta were on the Diamond and Pearl Clans’ Pokémon’s heels, running ahead to where Ursaluna was leading them. But strangely, when Rachel checked her Arc Phone, she saw that they were not going to the Icepeak Arena, but towards Icebound Falls tucked away in the south.

Once they approached, she immediately realized why. There was a tunnel that led from the greater expanse of the icelands towards the icefalls. So she took shelter…good.

As they approached, her hopes were confirmed when she spotted two familiar Pokémon emerge from within. It was Irida’s Glaceon and Espeon! “They’ve found us!” The Ice Pokémon cried, rushing up to Rachel to greet her warmly, reaching the woman and nuzzling her gloved hand gratefully.

“Just as I knew she would.” Espeon added, pressing himself against Rachel affectionately.

Gently petting them both, she was relieved that they were alright. “Where’s Irida?”

“She’s inside.” Glaceon informed Rachel, grabbing her by the hand gently in her jaws and tugging her along at a frantic pace.

Pressing along the woman’s side to push her onwards, Espeon mewed anxiously. “Flareon’s just inside, trying to keep her warm…but she hasn’t woken up for a little while.”

Then hopefully, they weren’t too late.

Entering the tunnel, Rachel recognized it in an instant, the strange hieroglyphics on the wall as perplexing as ever as she dismounted from Ursaluna and approached. She could recognize some of the shapes as the nobles, but some were unfamiliar to her. Huddled beneath the perplexing puzzle was the Pearl Clan leader herself, her Flareon desperately pressing his body against her paler than normal skin, her lips and fingertips turned blue. She was motionless, and seeing her pale still body, Rachel began to panic, even with Flareon’s efforts to try and keep her warm.

She was alive! She had to be!

Collapsing on her knees, she pressed her ear to the Pearl Clan leader’s chest, nuzzling past Flareon’s head to hear a faint heartbeat within the frigid skin pulled taught against her bones. Good…she was still alive. That at least was a relief, but she didn’t want to even think about what would’ve happened had she not been accompanied by Flareon and her other Pokémon. “Irida…?” Rachel said quietly, holding the blonde woman’s face in her hands. She felt as cold as ice as she shook her to try and rouse her. “Irida, come on! Wake up!”

Weakly, the Pearl Clan leader’s eyes creaked open, a small smile creasing her cracked sickly looking lips. There was no light in her pale blue eyes, only a fading flicker of life still within. “M…moth…er…?”

Shit, this was worse than she thought. Any longer in this cold and Irida would surely freeze to death, even with Flareon’s help. She was already delirious. “No…no, it’s me, Rachel.” She insisted. When Irida couldn’t maintain consciousness any longer, the Survey Corp member didn’t hesitate to beckon her Arcanine into the tunnel. “Emberheart, get her warm! She’ll freeze to death!”

Moving aside to make room for the large doggish creature, Rachel could feel the idle heat coming off of her fur. It wasn’t hot, but it would be enough to warm Irida and keep her out of the danger zone. Cedric didn’t hesitate to pull the thick blanket out of her backpack, handing it to Rachel and dashing over to Irida to check her heartbeat. It was weak…but there. For how much longer?

Not very if they didn’t act soon.

Gesturing to Ursaluna and Wyrdeer to stay put for now, Rachel then nodded to her Zoroark. “Vendetta, stand guard. Let me know if the storm gets worse.”

“As you command.” The white beast replied, dipping her head before standing vigilant at the exposed entrance, her massive mane blocking much of the way.

Which was good, since it would block the frigid blizzard air from getting into the cave and making Irida colder than she already was. Rachel wouldn’t be surprised if she was already suffering from hypothermia despite Flareon’s best efforts. Cedric had the blanket in his mouth and nodded at Rachel, Irida’s loyal Fire-type Pokémon at his human’s side ready to help.

Cradling the Pearl Clan leader gently, Rachel lifted Irida’s body from the ground, Cedric and Flareon then tugging the blanket underneath where she was before the Survey Corp member then laid her back down, again. Odd…didn’t Irida weigh more? Or did Rachel get stronger? She had been training a lot since she’d started sparring with her Pokémon in a regular basis.

But no matter. They had important matters at hand.

Wrapping the blanket around Irida and tucking the ends of it into each other to make sure she was tightly bundled, Rachel then pushed Irida into Emberheart’s side, hoping that she could make the most of the idle heat that the Arcanine was throwing off. Just a calm gentle warmth. Flareon then climbed up and sat on her, hoping to warm her up with his body heat, too. The gentle heat from both Pokémon would keep Irida alive and, if they took a moment to let her acclimate, they would be able to make the trip back to the Pearl Settlement in no time.

Looking up at Wyrdeer, Rachel reached up to him. “Do you think we can carry her?”

“Of course.” The pale grey deer replied confidently, gently nuzzling Rachel as he rested his forehead against her. “She has you to thank for saving her life and I’m grateful that the Pearl Clan will not lose another leader. I will lay down my life to be able to ensure she’s safely returned home.”

Smiling, Rachel pressed her forehead against his. The first of the sacred Pokémon that she had met, and in some ways, the closest to her. There was nowhere she could think of going without calling upon him to carry her. It was like they were one and the same. Did either clan realize how much each other’s sacred Pokémon valued and respected one another regardless of allegiance?

She hoped they would, someday. “You and me both…”

Grunting worriedly, Vendetta turned to address her wielder, trepidation creasing her brows as she approached Rachel. “The storm looks like it’s worsening…perhaps we should take shelter here for the night.”

Shaking her head insistently, Rachel refused. “No. We found her. We can take a moment so that she won’t die on the way back, but now that we found her, we can just take her home!” Despite her conviction, the Zoroark didn’t seem convinced.

Ursaluna seemed to agree. “If the storm worsens, I may not be able to navigate us back through scent. We may risk getting lost ourselves.”

“Trust me, finding Irida was the hardest part.” Rachel insisted, pulling out her Arc Phone to show the creature. “This device tells me our exact location at all times. As long as I have this, we’ll never be lost. We just have to make it across Avalugg’s Legacy to get back to the settlement, and everything will be okay.” Hearing Irida moan pitifully in her hypothermic slumber, Rachel wilted. At least she seemed to be recovering strength…slowly. “Just…let’s wait for her to be strong enough to hold on…then we’ll go.”

Taking advantage of the shelter that was now provided, the party waited until Irida was at least fit enough to travel. Outside, the blizzard continued its relentless assault on the Alabaster Icelands, and from the skies, the patron of winds watched closely. He had witnessed and brought every winter season for generations, and he had watched the Pearl Clan survive every one.

However, his disappointment when they lost many of their numbers to war was immeasurable. Only by communing with his fellow nature spirits did he learn of the feuds between the Pearl Clan and the Diamond Clan. The bringer of spring had told him of the similar dwindling in numbers of the Diamond Clan in the Crimson Mirelands, and it saddened her just as much to witness. After all, she was the patron of new beginnings, new life. It was natural for her to be saddened by the loss of life within the Diamond Clan.

But his own position as the patron of winter was not one of cruelty. He did not wish for creatures to perish nor did he purposefully wish so. He was the patron of survival of the fittest, those that could survive and make it through his harsh winters would survive through many seasons. Winter was about hardship and perseverance.

A will to survive. A will to live.

The Pearl Clan was squandering their chances for the survival of their future generations and was risking the death of their whole clan and culture through their feuds with the Diamond Clan and by refusing to beseech help. He knew they were quite prideful in that way, and it disappointed him. Humans were social creatures that depended on one another. That much he knew about them. To not ask for help to ensure their own survival was to go against their nature, to go against what made humans so strong. Their sense of community was one he admired.

And the last thing he wanted was to see a clan that had survived many of his harsh winters die out because they had forgotten what they were. His grief would be inconsolable.

So, he devised a trial. A trial that would test the mettle of the Pearl Clan’s will to survive and to see if it was too late for them to recover. By sending them a storm so severe that they had never faced, before, the grave circumstances would force them to realize how vulnerable they were and surely they would have no choice but to beseech the help of others – perhaps the Diamond Clan.

And then, surely they would realize that they were stronger together than they were divided and at ends with one another. It would be a step towards ending the legacy of senseless death between the clans and towards building a future where they ensured the other’s survival at the worst of times.

They would remember their humanity and come together to endure the greatest hardship he had ever sent their way. They had to, in order to survive. And if they had the will to, they would. He was certain of it.

The Galaxy Team was something different entirely. They were comparatively new to the land of Hisui compared to the clans, and yet they had by far the largest settlement both in size and in population. They had come from a land from far away and, from what he and his fellow nature patrons could glean from sequential observation, they studied the land of Hisui to learn from it and had a neutral relationship with both clans.

And, curiously, none of the Galaxy Team could speak with Pokémon like the clans did. None except, strangely enough, for this one. He did not recognize her and the Pokémon in the area spoke of her reverently, particularly its lord. She was a traveler from beyond the rift, having fallen into Hisui some time ago, and not only did she understand Pokémon, but she was making strides in bridging the gap that existed between the Diamond and Pearl Clans.

She even had the bravery to stop an enraged charging Piloswine in its tracks just to save the lives of the leaders of both clans. This was someone who not only had a will to live herself, but had a will to live threefold, enough to protect others and ensure their lives would endure as well.

Perhaps she was just what he needed to prove that the Pearl Clan was not yet lost. So, it was time to test her mettle as well.

Marching through the blistering white world in front of them, barely able to see their hands in front of them, the group had to proceed with extreme prejudice to the potential environmental hazards. Glaceon was taking the point position in front of Ursaluna who was trying to track their path backwards, Wyrdeer then walking slowly behind him with Rachel on his back with Irida in her arms still bundled in the blanket. Cedric was nestled against her, pressing his fur against her face in an attempt to protect her from the wind without suffocating her.

Vendetta and Emberheart flanked the Diamond Clan’s sacred ride Pokémon, Flareon and Espeon guarding the rear as they traveled. Rachel glanced at her Arc Phone to ensure that they were heading the right way, but occasionally on their way, they would get confused and have to turn around to try and navigate towards the Pearl Settlement. It couldn’t be that far…it couldn’t be that difficult.

But the only problem was that the Arc Phone didn’t tell her what direction she was facing – only where she was. It was getting colder, the wind getting more violent, and eventually, the wind would become impassable if they stayed out here for too long. The group huddled close together, yet every time Rachel checked the Arc Phone, it seemed like she was going in circles around Avalugg’s Legacy.

They couldn’t get lost…not now. Not when they were so close. They’d found Irida…she couldn’t give up now. “I don’t think…we can go further…” Ursaluna bemoaned miserably, shaking his head. “I can’t smell anything, anymore…we have no hope of being able to follow our trail back to the east…”

“He’s right…” Glaceon said, shaking her head from the front as she turned her head to address the group, the tassels on her head whipping violently in the white blizzard. Were it daylight, they might have gone blind. “Maybe we should take shelter until morning…!”

“No!” Rachel cried, shaking her head as she held Irida’s body closer to her own, refusing to let her go as though the moment she did, the Pearl Clan leader and her friend would disappear forever. “We’re not giving up! Not when we’re this close! We can make it!” They just had to keep going. They just had to… “So long…as I’m still standing…so long as I still draw breath…I will bring Irida home.”

So, onward they pushed despite the hopelessness that threatened to close in on them and freeze them in place. They moved slower and slower, snow sticking sharply to their skin and fur collectively. Rachel’s throat began to crack and grow dry with how heavily she was breathing. The chilly air was starting to suck the moisture out of her mouth and it was starting to grow painful.

She couldn’t fail. She wouldn’t let the Pearl Clan lose another leader. She wouldn’t.

Stopping, Vendetta perked up, the white Zoroark standing rigid as she began to growl. Her fur billowed threateningly, scarlet sinews of mirthful rage and lashing hatred glowed angrily like tongues of red hot fire from the deep earth within. She almost appeared to be twice her size as she snarled a warning to the group, backing up to be pressed against Wyrdeer. “Hold formation.” She ordered them, the white beast baring her fangs at the cyclones that surrounded and threatened to sweep them away in the violent and impassable storm. “The Winterbringer is here, and he bites with no mercy.”

At that warning, Wyrdeer and his passengers were boxed in the centre, their guardians forming a protective circle around them to face the dangers that laid out in the storm. For a moment, everything seemed to stand still despite the wind that continued its assault. As they all looked out into the whiteness, waiting in anticipation for what would come next, completely unsure of what to expect, it seemed like the world itself was drawing in a long breath.

Before it exhaled into a world of whirlwinds and cyclones that circled them relentlessly, completely preventing them from passing and pushing them in every which way. The sheer force of these biting powerful winds that swiftly pushed past and around them was enough to likely sweep them away, never to be seen again if they took one step out into the invisible world they were trapped in.

It pelted them, forcing them to hunker down as all of them began to attack at the impenetrable cyclones. The light from Emberheart and Flareon’s fire attacks was quickly swept away, the only source of light in this white realm they were forced to endure.

But in the brief flashes of light, Rachel spotted a shape whipping by. A shape that flew so fast that she could barely parse it as a shape, hardly even a silhouette. Yet, it was there. It was there clearly.

This Winterbringer was not actually trying to attack them. So what was it trying to do? What was the purpose of this? This storm? This attack?

There was only one way to get that answer. And if they could stop it in its tracks, perhaps they would. “Emberheart, Stone Edge! Agile Style!”

Obeying the orders of her wielder, rearing up with a mighty roar, the large Fire-Pokémon brought her paws down heavy onto the ice, the tremors echoing beneath their feet before sharp stone spires suddenly jutted out from the ice below with a shattered crackle, in the way of the figure zipping about and whipping the storm up worse.

Just as she predicted, the figure that was doing this smacked into the stone spires that had erupted from the ground at full speed, being suddenly thrown back by the impact, creating a temporary halt to the severity of the storm. They still couldn’t see the sky, but at least they could now move.

Without hesitation, Vendetta pounced on the now prone Pokémon, pinning it to the ground and snarling, holding its arms behind its back and sinking her teeth into its neck, rolling it over so that it faced Rachel.

Looking down at it from the back of Wyrdeer, the woman glowered at it. This Pokemon appeared to take the form of a humanoid, with green skin splotched with lilac, though its lower body was rendered invisible by the clouds that cloaked it. A long graceful violet tail with yellow spiraled ridges along it that resembled stylistic renditions of gales and winds.

Two horns jutted out of its forehead, a curled white quaff of hair on its head just behind them. It sported a jagged mustache of the same colour. Strangely enough, its hair also seemed to resemble the clouds that concealed half of its verdant body.

Cedric’s pale blue eyes met this Pokémon’s searching yellow gaze. He definitely recognized this Pokémon from home. This was indeed the Pokémon that Volo had warned them about, and Rachel was sure of that, too. “I gather you must be Tornadus.”

Chuckling amusedly, the Pokémon grinned at her. “Ah, I see that my reputation precedes me.” He commented, Tornadus seeming completely unconcerned with the situation he was currently in. Though, Rachel should’ve expected as much from a being such as him. “A pleasure it is to meet you in the flesh, Rachel. I’ve heard whispers on the wind about you.”

Narrowing her eyes, she had no patience for this thin veneer of small talk. Not when the situation was dire and he seemed to be the cause. “Did you cause this storm?”

Her will didn’t waver, even in his presence. That was good to see. “I bring the winter winds with me to Hisui. It’s what I am.”

Setting her jaw, the woman’s fingers dug deeper into the blanket that swaddled Irida snugly. “Abate it. Now.”

“I will. In due time.” Tornadus attempted to assure her, staring intently at her as he didn’t even attempt to struggle in Vendetta’s ruthless grip. “But first…the survival of the Pearl Clan must be assured. Only then will the storm abate.”

“If you would abate the storm, I would be able to do so.” Rachel retorted sharply, sneering at the green-skinned Pokémon of gales. Tornadus didn’t seem to understand the severity of the situation he caused. Or, he had purposefully caused it for some reason and was fine with the consequences of it. The grave consequences.

Shaking his head, Tornadus refused even still. “You misunderstand.” He insisted, meeting the woman’s gaze with a calm stillness that made her shudder as she sat there and listened to him. “I am not cruel. I simply bring hardships to determine who are strong enough to survive for seasons. After all, nature is chaotic and untameable. Only the strongest can truly survive.”

Growling, Rachel spat at him. “So, you’re fine with just weeding out the weak? Bringing death just to enforce an idea of strength at the cost of innocents?”

“Innocent and guilty matter not to me, but once again, you misunderstand.” Tornadus continued to speak calmly, regarding the human with respect despite the circumstances he was currently in. “Do you know what makes humans strong? What allows them to survive some of the most punishing of hardships?” Curling her nose at him, Rachel waited for him to explain. No matter what she answered with, he would tell her what he thought anyways. “…their sense of community.” That…wasn’t an answer she was expecting. “Humans are strongest when they band together. It’s how they have survived and conquered for centuries. Their strength lies in community, and the Pearl Clan over the generations has forgotten this. If they are to survive, they must not only remember their own humanity…but the humanity in their perceived enemies as well.”

So…this was some sort of test? Some sort of sick test? She couldn’t disagree with him, but why this? “If you were trying to teach them that, then why this?” Rachel demanded, tilting Irida so that she was facing away from the wind in her arms. “Why create this deadly storm to teach them that lesson when you could’ve taught it through kindness? Without risking their lives?”

“That is your role as a human, and humans seem to have a tendency to isolate themselves from opposing viewpoints, seeing any opposition to their beliefs as a personal threat.” Tornadus replied casually, as though this were just any regular conversation they could be having. As though they were merely speaking philosophy rather than actively gambling with the lives of innocents. “Nature teaches lessons where human kindness fails. My intervention was inevitable. You could even say that the inevitability itself was an invitation for my intervention.

“But regardless of my place in all of this, I ask you this, distant traveler:” Grinning, Tornadus’s eyes widened, clenching his fists tightly against the ice beneath him, clouds billowing around him. “How strong is your will to survive?”

A sudden twisting gale suddenly slammed into Vendetta, pushing her back into the storm and forcing her to release Tornadus, the gale Pokémon disappearing just as quickly as he reappeared, cackling into the ether as his presence was swept away with the wind, as though he and it were one and the same.

Leaving Rachel and her rescue party alone in the frigid and unforgiving winter gales below.

Completely unaware of the struggle that Rachel was enduring out in the icy wastes in the white blizzard outside of the settlement, Adaman was busy and hard a work helping the Security Corp distribute supplies and personally attend to the people of the Pearl Settlement at Gaeric’s command. The man was quite agreeable, surprisingly enough, and the pair actually worked very well together.

Naturally, the Pearl Clan was suspicious of the Diamond Clan leader helping them, but they accepted his help nonetheless, and speaking with them, he wasn’t met with hostility. “You don’t waste even a second. Do you, lad?” One of them commented as he ladled the woman in Pearl Clan robes a bowl of soup from the lit hearth.

Chuckling quietly, he handed her the warm bowl, his relief at seeing her eat bringing him only a little bit at peace. The truth of the matter was that he was trying to keep himself busy to not drive himself insane with worry. Rachel had been gone for a long time and he was already fearing the worst.

Helping these people was the only thing keeping him holding onto hope. He needed to believe in her. “I can’t just sit by and do nothing. Especially if there’s something I can do to help.” Adaman replied, hoping he wasn’t giving away just how scared he was for both Rachel and Irida. There wasn’t a minute that went by that he wasn’t quietly uttering prayers in his head to almighty Sinnoh to bring the both of them back safely. “I’m sure Irida felt the same way when she realized the danger her people were in. I’m confident it’s the reason she decided to take matters into her own hands.”

Humming worriedly, the woman held her soup in her lap in the tent, shaking her head. “And now she’s lost to us…and we’re at the behest of you and of our outsiders.”

Furrowing his brow, Adaman shook his head. These people needed to believe in her as much as he was trying to. “Rachel will bring your leader back. I promise she will.”

The woman met his gaze, eyebrows furrowed. “What makes you so sure, Adaman?”

He smiled warmly, remembering the way she openly scolded him when he doubted himself for a moment. Without hesitation, all the things she saw in him and admired about him spilled out and he was thoroughly unprepared for it. It was so passionate, so unprompted, and so heated. And yet, he knew it came from a place of genuine care and sincerity. She meant every word she said about him to him, and in a way…it changed him. It pulled him out of the near constant quiet doubt that whispered incessantly in the back of his mind.

He smiled as he regarded the Pearl Clan woman. “Because there’s no one in the world who’s like her. She’s the best of the Survey Corp that anyone’s ever known and when she cares about something, nothing can stop her.” He said, smirking a bit wryly. “Besides, despite my clearly blasphemous ways, I’m not doing too bad a job out here, am I?”

Chuckling at the Diamond Clan leader, the woman couldn’t help but shake her head. “No, I suppose not.” She paused, taking a moment to savour the warm meal, looking out towards the door to the tent that swelled and bent in tandem with the violent winter winds outside that put them in this position to begin with. “As a matter of fact, we’re all actually quite grateful that the Diamond Clan has not forsaken us…it warms the heart to know that we have not be left behind.”

“We may have our differences, but Hisui is both of our homes.” Adaman replied, repeating what he had said earlier in the Galaxy Hall when they were discussing what to do about the Pearl Clan. “Even at odds, I actually have a lot of respect for Irida and the rest of your clan. We value your clan’s safety as much as we value ours and we all have a right to live here. To do nothing would be to go against everything I stand for.”

Nodding, the Pearl Clan woman hummed in contentment. “Well said.”

Glancing at her now empty bowl, Adaman smiled at her. “Is there anything else you’ll need?”

She shook her head. “You’ve done plenty enough. But if we need you, we’ll find you.”

Nodding at her in acknowledgement, Adaman left the tent back into the frigid air outside. He pulled the cloak and scarf given to him by Rachel close to his body as he shivered, breathing in the comforting scent of the wild flowers and grasses and the sea that the woman always carried with her.

Even just her lingering scent on the clothes given to him made him feel safe. It gave him hope…that everything was going to be alright.

Spotting Gaeric looking out at the edge of the Pearl Settlement with Zisu at his side, holding up a lantern, Adaman approached, indents left behind by his footsteps swept away as quickly as he made them. “Any sign of them, yet?” He asked anxiously.

Shaking his head, Gaeric wore a solemn expression on his face. “Not a one, I’m sorry to say.”

Even Zisu’s signature warm optimistic demeanour seemed to flicker for a moment like a weakening candle, her brows furrowed and her eyes clouded with lingering fear. Not for herself, but for Rachel. Though they weren’t close, Zisu had a lot of admiration for the Survey Corp girl and a degree of affection as well. There was a brightness that she brought to the Galaxy Hall and the Training Grounds whenever she appeared and the compassion she had for both humans and Pokémon was something that endeared Zisu to her greatly.

She was a bright shining star in their little galaxy that served as their north star, guiding them towards a bright future by her resolve and her unwavering kindness. To lose that would be to lose one of the brightest lights in their world and Zisu didn’t like the thought of such a brilliant light being snuffed out like this.

Standing beside them, Adaman sighed solemnly. The storm was worse. He couldn’t even see the massive glaciers that towered over Avalugg’s Legacy, not even a distant silhouette. The sky and the very air was blotted out by white snow, leaving little room for hope left.

Adaman hated waiting. Especially when he felt like he should do something and knew that there was nothing he could do. “Things…aren’t looking good…are they?” Gaeric muttered, dropping his persona of impenetrable strength to show the Diamond Clan leader a rare moment of vulnerability. It was natural that the cracks would begin to show. Irida was not only his leader, but his pupil.

Losing her would be like losing his kin, something Adaman could empathize with – he felt the exact same way about his fellow Diamond Clan members and its wardens. For him, it was a bit more literal. He, Mai, Arezu, and Melli all lost their parents and guardians in a previous war with the Pearl Clan when they were children and bonded with one another, becoming more like siblings than anything else.

They were the only family he had. He would do anything to keep them safe.

“It’s hard not to assume the worst…” Zisu admitted, the Security Corp captain reaching up to rub at her neck, holding her lantern up higher to try and get a better view of their surroundings. But the blizzard only caused the light to blot out everything else by its sheer brightness far more than the blizzard itself was. “But – and I really hate to say it – there’s a good chance Rachel might be lost out there.”

Feeling his stomach twist at the thought of Rachel and Irida freezing out in the storm, Adaman tried to pull his hood in closer. The light from Zisu’s lantern was so oppressive in this blizzard that he was starting to feel a headache coming on and was tempted to tell Zisu to put it out. After all, there was no point in keeping it lit.

At least…that’s what he thought until he realized just how bright it was and how sharply it seemed to cut through the snow. The snow even seemed to amplify the light through the crystals.

His dark eyes widened, a glimmer of hope behind them that was beginning to spark into something more. “Captain Zisu, how many of those do we have?”

Glancing at the Diamond Clan leader with a curious look, the woman raise her eyebrow at him. “Enough for every member of the Pearl Clan and every one of us at least twice over. Why?”

Looking about the path towards the Pearl Settlement proper, he walked down towards the bridge, eyeing the trees at the edges. One towered above the rest and a plan was beginning to form in his head. Maybe there was something he could do after all! “I think I’ve got an idea how we can help Rachel and Irida get back home…!”

Huddled on the ground, left alone and weak in the absence of Tornadus, the group resorted to pressing against one another for shelter and warmth. Their will was fading, only a faint ember that was being desperately nursed by every last one of them, human and Pokémon. Rachel tried to will herself to keep going despite the severity of the storm, now knowing it was a test.

But she couldn’t. She could no longer push herself forward and she could only try and convince herself to take another step and fail. But while she had Irida, she would protect her no matter what.

She couldn’t give up…not yet…she needed to try again…they needed to get back home.

Were Glaceon not an Ice-type, she would be huddling close to her human as well. But she was cold enough, and they needed to get Irida back home to the Pearl Settlement before she froze to death. However, when she looked off into the icy distance, the Ice Pokémon spotted a peculiar sight. “What is that…?”

Looking up from cradling Irida against her chest to try and keep her warm, Rachel squinted when she saw what Glaceon was looking at. It look like a series of lights in the distance rising up and then settling in various places. It didn’t look like a random cluster moving erratically. Quite the opposite, the moving lights seemed to move in an organized fashion.

It was utterly bizarre. “How strange…”

Staring at the strange sight, Vendetta growled quietly as she stared into the distance. She didn’t quite trust it just yet, and the last thing she wanted was for her wielder and all the other Pokémon to get lost or misled by a malicious force that laid hidden in the blizzard. “Wait here for a moment.” The Zoroark grunted, getting up and walking on all fours through the snow. “If there’s anyone who knows tricks…it’s me.”

Before Rachel could protest, the Pokémon had already vanished into the storm, her white coat making her blend in seamlessly into the snow and ice. It was no wonder that Zoroarks and Zorua were able to blend in so well in this landscape.

Worried, Rachel huddled closer to Irida and Cedric, Emberheart and Ursaluna huddling closer in Vendetta’s absence. She stared into the blizzard, staring at the moving and then settling lights and anxiously waiting for her Pokémon’s return. The last thing she wanted was to lose Vendetta, too.

They couldn’t afford to lose anyone.

But, soon enough, Vendetta’s shape cut through the blizzard, the large white fox Pokémon yipping and whooping as she returned to the group. “It’s the Pearl Clan!” The Zoroark cried, rushing over to nuzzle into Rachel and nuzzle Irida back to life, the woman confusedly moaning and groaning as she was suddenly roused from her cold-induced slumber. “They’ve lit a beacon to guide us home! We’ve made it!”

Wyrdeer rising to his feet, the group didn’t hesitate to make haste towards the bright lights that beckoned them in the distance. Finally! Their efforts were not in vain! They did it! They had succeeded!

Irida was going to live and the Pearl Clan was going to survive!

“Come on! As many as you can!” Adaman called out to the Security Corp, trying to find another place on the tree to put another lit lantern. Any way to make the tree brighter to guide Rachel and Irida back to where they belonged he was going to take.

Even though the tree was practically bathed in bright oppressive light at this point.

Smiling, Zisu walked up to Adaman and put a firm hand on his shoulder, pulling him back and making him face her. “Hey…I think you’ve put enough lanterns on the tree.”

Even though he knew that that was true, it wasn’t good enough for him. Having to wait again made him fearful again and he didn’t want to rest until Rachel came back home. Only then could he finally rest and feel at peace. “But what if it doesn’t work? What if it’s not bright enough? I have to keep at it!”

“You’re not usually such a worrywart, Adaman.” Sabi teased, giggling at him as she walked up to him, hands behind her back with a cheeky grin on her little face. “Or have you always been and it’s somehow escaped my clairvoyance? Who can say?”

Rolling his eyes at her, Adaman let out a shaky sigh. He did his part, all they had to do was wait and hope. Hope and pray that this plan would work and they would be seen and would be able to guide their lost loved ones back home.

What seemed like an eternity passed, Adaman’s lungs feeling tight from the cold and how much he was holding his breath. All he wanted was to see their shapes emerge from the blizzard coming close to them. All he wanted was to know that they were safe.

All he wanted was to hold Rachel and know that she was real. To know that the nightmare was finally over.

“There they are!” Gaeric announced, pointing to a shape that began to materialize as it emerged closer, slowly gaining speed until they could be recognizable. Adaman would recognize the hulking figure of Ursaluna and the graceful shape of Wyrdeer anywhere. The Pokémon that surrounded them were all becoming more visible. “And she’s found Irida!”

At the sound of the Pearl Clan’s warden of the icelands, the Pearl Clan began to clamour out of their tents to meet the rescue party, cheering and calling out to them as the group finally emerged from the world of white. Rachel was carrying Irida tightly in her arms astride Wyrdeer and Ursaluna lumbered past the Pearl Clan members, exhausted from the harrowing rescue mission and content to simply sleep away the stress by the hot spring.

As Rachel atop Wyrdeer stopped before the tree that was lit with lanterns, Gaeric bellowed in jubilation as he rushed forwards. “I knew you would find her! There’s no one else whose will is as unbreakable as mine!”

Smiling at the man, Rachel gently passed Irida’s bundled body to the warden, letting him tend to her as her Pokémon followed her diligently. Glaceon glanced back at Rachel as she followed Gaeric, giving the woman a grateful nod before following him.

As Irida passed Adaman, she was awake enough to recognize him. The leaders of the clans exchanged a smile between one another. One that said more than words could, but they both understood the sentiment behind it. I’m glad you’re alive…

“See? I knew you could do it!” Zisu cheered, helping Rachel off of Wyrdeer and giving her a hearty slap on the back to welcome her back. “There’s nobody with your tenacity!”

The warm welcome was more than…well, welcome. The harrowing ordeal was all worth it just to see Irida welcomed back as swiftly as she was. But she didn’t expect Adaman to rush over to her and nearly knock her over, throwing his arms around her and squeezing her tightly. “I’m so glad you’re safe…!” He confessed, pressing his head into the crook of her neck, arms rubbing up and down Rachel’s back to press her as close to himself as possible. “You have no idea how worried I was…”

Smiling, Rachel eagerly hugged him back, squeezing him just as tightly. Though this outburst was somewhat unexpected, it wasn’t unwelcome. It was nice to know that Adaman cared so much about her. She felt very much the same way. “I told you I’d bring Irida back home.” She said, nestling her chin into his shoulder. “You know how I feel about making promises…”

Glancing up at the tree that they used as a beacon to bring her back home, Rachel squinted at it. Each lantern was hung on a branch all the way to the top as high as they could go. From down here, she could swear that the lanterns in the tree almost looked like…ornaments.

Wait…she’d heard a story like this, before. There was a story about two warring clans that came together to help the other survive a bitter storm, and every year on the same eve, they would have a truce where they would celebrate the blessings of winter and exchange gifts and uphold the truce until the morning when they would go their separate ways.

Was this…was this where Winter’s Blessings came from?

For the rest of the evening, there was nothing but joy throughout the settlement. Adaman and the Security Corp were exchanging stories and even playing games with one another to pass the time, laughing and brimming with mirthful abandon. Even Irida, once she was warmed up sufficiently and treated by Paselle of the Medical Corp.

Though, it was odd seeing a blanket on her shoulders. Maybe she would be a bit more careful about wearing warmer clothes in colder than average weather from now on.

It was also nice seeing Adaman and Irida getting along. Rachel could safely say that the Diamond and Pearl Clan leaders had become her dearest friends and this one night would go a long way to securing a future of peace and safety between the both of them going forward. It made Rachel happy to see them getting along so well, now.

Despite their animosity towards one another at times over their theological beliefs, they also had a great deal of respect and admiration towards each other. And, in this rare instance, even affection, it seemed.

Which was good. It meant that once Rachel went back to the world she belonged to, there was someone that had a chance of making Adaman happy. As much as she liked him, as much as she sort of knew that it was mutual, it just…couldn’t be. She had a life to get back to and the last thing she wanted was to be a burden on his life. She didn’t want to waste his time with a relationship that wouldn’t last.

But as long as he was happy, she was happy. That was good enough for her. The idea of Adaman finding someone that would make him happy after Rachel was gone brought her a profound sense of comfort.

At some point in the night, Rachel had fallen asleep where she had made herself comfortable amongst the revelry, cuddled up to Cedric and Emberheart sleeping alongside her to keep her wielder warm. The woman was so stressed that she fell into a deep sleep despite all the noise.

She didn’t even notice that Irida and Adaman were both standing right above her. “I didn’t even get a chance to properly thank her…” The Pearl Clan leader lamented, sighing as she shook her head.

Smiling, Adaman gently put a hand on his fellow leader’s shoulder. He never thought he would be so happy to see Irida, but after tonight, he knew he would never take her for granted ever again. “Let her sleep. You can thank her tomorrow morning.” He suggested, looking over at Rachel and admiring how peaceful she looked when she was asleep. She was always complaining about poor sleep whenever she was awoken in Jubilife Village from her lodge. The fact that she looked so at peace now said a lot about that that made Adaman a bit sad to think about. “She’s worked really hard to bring you back to your people…she deserves a good rest.”

“I know.” Irida replied, smiling at Adaman. “And she deserves just as much to know what her efforts mean to me. To the Pearl Clan.”

“And to me and the Diamond Clan.” The man added, raising an eyebrow at her. “I know she really stuck her neck out for you tonight, but…that’s just what Rachel does. It’s who she is. Someone who goes the distance to do the right thing, to help someone. And she’s gone out of her way for both of our peoples.”

“She has.” The Pearl Clan leader sighed wistfully, pulling her blanket tighter over herself. She still felt like she was running a bit hot, but after the ordeal in the blizzard, she would have to start to learn not to trust that feeling so much. “And she also deserves to know what she means to me as a friend, too…”

Nodding in agreement, his attention was immediately stolen by a small shiver accompanied by a subconscious chattering of teeth from the exhausted Survey Corp member, Rachel curling in on herself tighter around Cedric, pressing her back against Emberheart’s fur to better maximize on soaking up the heat.

Smiling, Adaman undid the cloak Rachel had so diligently made for her and gently draped it over her, tucking her in and ensuring she was properly covered up so she could sleep comfortably tonight. Once she was warm and enveloped, a small smile spread across her face, a curl of hair falling over her face and tickling her nose a bit.

Gingerly, Adaman reached toward to remove her glasses so she could sleep more comfortably, folding them and setting them aside where she would see them once she woke up, and gently brushing the hair on her head aside so it wouldn’t bother her, anymore.

He would give anything to make sure that Rachel could sleep easy every night. She deserved that much. “Sleep well, Rachel…you’ve earned it.” He whispered before he put a hand on Irida’s shoulder and guided her away. “Come on, let’s wrap things up. I think Zisu’s on her last game with Gaeric.”

Chuckling brightly, it was a relief to see her so full of life after the ordeal she went through. None of her Pokémon had left her side since she had returned to the Pearl Clan and Irida wouldn’t have it any other way. She was looking forward to going to sleep knowing that everyone was safe and looked after and the people she trusted most would be close by.

The night came and went, Rachel barely stirring in the night all bundled up and comfortably cuddling with her Pokémon. When the morning came, she noticed that the cloak she had given Adaman was draped over her like a blanket. She must’ve fallen asleep during the festivities, but she was thankful for it nonetheless.

Rachel had never been happier to see the morning sun, the storm had completely abated. Whatever it was Tornadus was trying to test the clans for, they seemed to have succeeded, thankfully.

The Security Corp and Adaman were all preparing to leave, the Diamond Clan leader staying behind a bit to speak with Irida for a moment. Just as Rachel suspected, the leaders of the two clans suggested the idea of an annual truce on the same night every year to try and maintain and improve the relationships between the two clans and to ensure that neither clan would forget what was done, here.

This was the origin of Winter’s Blessings, and Rachel counted herself fortunate to have witnessed it, perhaps even been a part of it. What a strange thing to think about…she was a part of something that she had celebrated as a child her whole life, and only now could she have known it? Time was a strange thing.

Was her world of the future – her present – shaped by her? She couldn’t know, but if this one part of it was, she was happy with this being her contribution. It was a reminder that she had more power than she thought, and she could use that power to make the world better.

That anyone could. And having the proof of that made it all worth it.

With everyone bidding their goodbyes, Rachel took Adaman astride Wyrdeer once more, dismissing Ursaluna now that the task was done and wishing him a happy hibernation. Zisu led the way, Rachel bringing up the rear. She handed him back his cloak, smiling bashfully at him. “Thank you…” She muttered, leaning against him subconsciously. “I…didn’t realize just how tired I was.”

Smiling, Adaman wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her head as they traveled across the icelands once more to make their way home though he could put on his new cloak, its warmth didn’t compare to Rachel’s and he much preferred it. She had very quickly become someone that made him feel warm inside and out, and he intended to cherish it for as long as she was in his world.

No matter how long or short that time would be. “You’re welcome.”

[randomwriteronline]

"Still snowing?"

"Still snowing."

"Hm."

Ingo watched from where he laid on the floor, cheeks warm from a glass of liquor, as Melli stoked the fire a bit more.

"You know," he said suddenly, "On evenings like this Gaeric goes out and grabs a handful of snow, and puts it in the water."

"Well, I'm not Gaeric." Melli replied bitterly.

"Neither am I," Ingo just responded, missing the animosity completely in his tipsy state: "I haven't got the faintest idea as to why he would do such a thing. Making the water cold when it's already cold outside. I should ask him, but it keeps evading my mind."

"You should go to sleep."

"I'd like to talk to you, though."

"About what?"

"In general. I like talking. I like talking to you. We can talk about Gliscors if you want. I know you think they're nice. Did you know that they rip the fur off of where they're biting with their tongue and spit it out so it doesn't get in their mouth? I saw it on a Swinub. It was a lot of fur."

A hum that was more like a grunt came to his ear.

The younger warden tapped his foot impatiently while looking into the flames. He stood, walking barefoot up to his lover, and laid face down next to him with his mouth buried between his arms.

Ah, the foreigner thought lazily.

He's angry.

He waited in silence, without complaining, because the hut was warm and his mind pleasantly fuzzy, and he could smell the faintest flowery scent come from his beloved's tangled hair. Oh, he must have been seriously angry, if he wasn't even quietly asking to be preened.

Lilac blue eyes refused to meet his gaze and pointedly stared right ahead. Then he huffed, hid his face completely, pulled it back out in the open.

"I don't like this."

"This being?"

"This. You and me and him."

"Ah. The... Arrangement, that we have?"

He nodded.

With a whine, he shoved his eyes back down against his arms: "I can't stand hearing about him," he whimpered. "Even when it's only you and me and he's miles away he still manages to snivel into any conversation we have like a damn Ghastly slipping through the cracks of a wall. It makes me want to scream. I detest him. It feels like even when it's my turn I'm just the lamer option. Second best as usual. I can't get a damn victory for myself even when my opponent agreed on a tie by proxy."

A stout white arm reached beneath his stomach and pulled him as if to invite him a little closer. He didn't resist it, down in the dumps and filled with an uneasy anger as he was feeling; he allowed himself to be pulled onto Ingo's chest and rested his head between his lover's clavicles. Somewhat humid lips pressed gently kiss after kiss on his head, accompanied by a slow hand carefully smoothing the long hair falling all over his back, and allowed a sniffle to escape him.

"I like talking about you two, you know," Ingo murmured. "You're great and I adore you. I have to share that with someone. But the only people I can talk about you two with... It's always just you two again. And it seems like... It's really that neither of you enjoy that."

"So he told you first?"

"Hm, no, no. He's an open book, but he doesn't say those things plainly..."

He combed through a lilac blue knot and felt his darling curl up a little more on him, wrapping slender arms around his shoulders.

"You should meet up more often."

"I'd rather die," Melli immediately hissed.

"That might be a bit drastic."

"I don't want anything to do with him."

A scarred finger curled one of his locks around itself and gently pulled until it all fell off once more: "You're both lovely men," the older warden argued softly, "Lovely men to be around, lovely to get to know. You would see that, if you met more often. You wouldn't even have to talk if you don't want to."

"And what do you think we should do, then? Just stand around each other like laundry poles?"

"Yes!"

"You're drunk."

"Not at all. It's called... I don't know how it's called. Socializing, I think. It's when you - hold on, it's when you take... Two, uh... Hm..."

"Take your time."

"Yes, with time -"

"No, I meant you take your time."

"Ah! No, no, I've got it. It's... Not a Glameow, but close."

"Purugly."

"Not a Purugly either."

"Stunky."

"No, not - Umbreon? I think it might be Umbreons. Are Umbreons canine or feline? Anyways. Socializing. It's when you get, you get two Umbreons, and you teach them to get along. And you put them somewhere together and don't do anything."

"And how would that help?"

"Because they get used to each other. If they try to attack each other you stop them of course, but the trick is to leave them be, so they each go around minding their business around the house, or around wherever it is you put them to be, and that's how they get used to each other and learn to get along."

Melli huffed, thoroughly unconvinced: "He'd start growling at me after five minutes. No way a guy like him could get socialized."

"Yes, I figure you'd know. Your clan didn't do that well with you either."

Ingo allowed himself a couple somewhat raucous laughs when a slender hand hit his cheeks with little force and his darling shoved his angry face deeper into his sternum, obviously wanting to sulk alone in a corner all piqued as he was, yet at the same time unwilling to leave the comfortable warm human mattress in favor of sitting on the cold pavement all by himself.

He interrupted his chuckling to sink his nose into the smooth silky hair, giving a gentle sigh. His arms tightened a little more around the lean body in his hold as he hummed, his tone a mixture of feelings being stirred slowly in a pan.

"I love you so very terribly," he murmured.

"Well, I don't see that," the younger man replied maybe a tad too harsh.

His annoyance melted when a hand cupped his nape with all the fondness in the world, and he regretted lashing out.

The foreigner leaned his jaw against the other's head: "I love you so, so much and I don't want you to be miserable because of me," he continued ever so softly: "You've already done so much - both of you, you've done so much to adapt for me and it still feels bad and it breaks my heart. I was so happy when you said you'd- when you told me you talked and figured it out. It surprised me a lot. I was really, really happy. It means a lot that you did, it really does. But if you aren't happy with this, I can't be happy if you two aren't, I can't... I don't want you to be miserable because of - because I can't choose."

Him not managing to choose was the only reason Melli even got the chance to be like this, warmed up on a cold night held by and holding the man he had fallen for despite his stupid superiority charade, or at least that was how he saw it; so he tightened his embrace a little and thought twice before complaining about that.

For a short while the hut was only filled by the soft crackling of fire and silent kisses on lilac hair.

"I can stop talking about him if you want me to," Ingo spoke up again very softly. "I can catch myself doing that and stop it."

"... You'd do that?"

Maybe it wasn't the right thing to say in such a hopeful tone at that moment.

"Sure," the other still replied earnestly.

Melli deflated with a sigh: "Thank you."

The chest he was laying on reverberated with a low sleepy hum, buzzing against his cheek without a real melody but soothing him all the same.

With his eyes closed he felt his beloved first gently tug at his long locks as he wrapped tham around his fingers, then play the back of his ribs like a drum with gentle pats, evidently unable to keep his hands idle now that conversation topics were languishing.

The younger warden's mind wandered for a short while instead; it rotated the words within his skull with a mixture of guilt and some kind of pouting emotion he didn't manage to put a name to it, something that whined and lamented a lot on several things like a spoiled Eevee. He shoved it away with his foot half-heartedly, only for it to start whimpering louder into his ear and stomping its paws on his face with an insistence that grated his nerves into fine dust in no time at all.

Sinnoh bless him! Was this how it felt to be nagged so much by something so bothersome? It almost convinced him to give up on his haughty mask out of pity for humanity as a whole.

It shrieked and threw another tantrum, and he swatted at it so angrily that it was launched right out the window.

"The other side of the mountain would be closer to him," he finally settled on mumbling, still half hoping he wouldn't be heard out of scornful pride.

"Him who?"

"Him. For meeting."

His human mattress had a jolt, white eyes opening wide in a flash to look at him in utter surprise: "You'd do that?" he asked with a voice that despite the alcohol's dizziness was terribly excited.

"Only to try," Melli replied as fast as he could. "And if nothing changes after three times I'll give up on it completely."

Fine by Ingo, if the way his frowning face lit up was any indication.

His darling managed to reply to his brilliant gaze for a handful of quiet minutes; then, overwhelmed by the blinding enthusiastic joy it was emitting, he pushed slender pale hands over the cheeks and eyes and nose and lips to cover up the entirety of that so loved visage, complaining with a groaning hiss of it being 'too bright!'.

He was squeezed just tightly enough in stouter arms with a guttural, overjoyed laugh.

[unlikelysaintdelele]

I wanna talk about my warden, so I'm gonna do that. Meet Adalia Amell.

Loyal to the Circle and her friends. Finds some piece of mind by following the Chantry, but wouldn't go so far as to call herself an Andrastian. She likes pretty dresses and reading books, from history to fiction. It's her only way to experience the outside world. She's rather studious and crafty, so she excelled in herbalism and poison-making. Her spell focus was in Elements (ice and electricity) and Spirit (death and telekinesis). But she was also restless, so she developed a silver tongue that allowed her to sneak around as she pleased and get her hands on whatever she desperately wanted in the moment. She completely lacks survival skills and has no real skill in fighting, only the theoretical sort. From all those books, of course. And she's kind. She loves doing things for other people. You could say her love language is acts of service.

She finds Cullen's crush on her endearing and likes pretending to be oblivious about it because of how he stutters. Is something wrong? Why are you so flushed, Cullen? Are you feeling sick? Here, let me check. However, she gets easily embarrassed if Jowan pokes fun at her about it. As a true child of the Circle, she never once attempts to pursue anything and simply leaves it as a small fancy. This overall leaves many under the impression that she has no feelings for Cullen and is barely aware of his affections got her. Her devastation to hearing what he said during their reunion, when the Circle was overtaken by demons, ran deep. She never loved him, but she always adored him. He would forever be her first Maybe.

When Jowan approaches her about destroying his Phylactery, she runs straight to the First Enchanter. She wants to help her best friend, but she simply cannot go against everything she knows as right. When she hears whispers of him practicing blood magic, she's naturally in denial. Doesn't believe up until he uses it to escape. When she reunites with him at Redcliffe, it's messy and hurt. He's apologetic but trust has been broken so she leaves him in the cell. After healing Arl Eamon, she has him sent back to the Circle. He is a Circle mage and he will be dealt with as such.

She was awestruck by Duncan pretty much the moment she met him. A Grey Warden! When she was chosen by him, she was excited and nervous but oh so eager to get out of the Circle because she would finally see the outside world. She was also annoyed because Greagoir wasn't listening to anything she or the First Enchanter were saying. She wouldn't dare betray the Circle. So it was either leave and see the world or stay and face unjust punishment. That's not the kindest situation to being pushed out of your own home. He low-key became a bit of a father figure. The First Enchanter was more like a Grandpa.

She's wary of Alistair when they first meet because of his Templar background but quickly warms up to him because of his humor. Jokes are good. She also likes the other recruits, even flirts with one of them, but doesn't bother to get to know anyone in detail because she assumes there will be time for that later... which was false. She definitely felt fear during the joining. Blinding, sickening fear. She did not want to die after barely stepping outside of the Circle. It was her desire to experience the world that overpowered her fear of death. She did not want to die, so she simply refused to accept that as an option. So she drank. And she survived.

She loves Morrigan. She finds her bitchy practicality amusing, and her bizarre childhood sad but also... kinda cool? What do you mean you shapeshifted to swipe a pretty mirror? Can you show me how to do that? She also finds her style fascinating as it's so different from the conservative Circle robes. It's almost definitely a one-sided friendship in the beginning, but the small twinge of sadness when they speak before going after the Archdemon... it's enough for Adalia to never hate her. She would never search for Morrigan after that.

Leliana is a completely different story. It's like she stumbled upon a long lost best friend she never knew she had. They bonded so quickly no one would've known they had just met a week ago. Adalia loved to hear the stories of Leliana's travels, and they would even gossip about Adalia's trysts with...

Alistair! How he wormed his way into her heart. They relied on each other when they were left to fight off the demons in the tower in Ostagar. It only deepened when they became the only Grey Wardens left in Ferelden, the only ones left who could understand what the other was going through. The nightmares. The being hunted down. Loghain's betrayal that resulted in Duncan's death. They found comfort in each other. Comfort that became clumsy flirting (from Alistair) and amused teasing (from Adalia) to frantic kisses stolen in the night that became complete trust and what little happiness they could find during the Blight. She comforted him after Goldana because he was kind and deserved to know his kindess was not a waste.

She supported Anora's bid for the throne because Alistair didn't want to be King and she never quite understood the need for maintaining bloodline within nobility. She was a Circle mage, where the children of nobility were stripped of their title and all birthrights the moment they walked in. To her, blood wasn't what mattered but rather capability and willingness. She had no doubt that Alistair would eventually grow into his role of he became King, but she didn't think it right to force him into a role he didn't even want. That was until Morrigan's ritual. For the first time, she would break away from everything that she had been taught. Not because she wasn't ready to sacrifice her life for all of Ferelden. But because she knew Alistair would follow her anywhere and would die protecting her. He would sacrifice himself so she could live. Not wanting to imagine a life without him, she selfishly clung to their love. Because of their trust in each other, Alistair reluctantly went through with the ritual.

Back to her friends! She found it rather upsetting that Sten didn't seem to like her. She found him hard to understand at first. She kept giving him paintings and prodding him about why he was caged. They eventually formed a deep respect for each other and their differences. Adalia finding him his sword definitely helped a bit. She also liked hearing his stories about the Qunari.

Zevran! Hmm.. annoying but funny. She thought it was hilarious how eager he was to switch sides if it meant he lived. She also loved hearing his wild stories as a Crow, especially with his Antivan accent. Her party thought she was foolish for trusting him, but Zevran was her most loyal friend at the end of the day. It probably helped that they shared the same sense of dry humor.

Oghren.. was too stupid and bizarre to hate. There was also some respect because, though he was a horn dog who would wander out of the marriage bed, he had a loyal heart. They weren't the closest, but they were friendly and would often chat at camp.

Wynne! Lovely Wynne! She became a grandma figure to Adalia. She took Wynne's advice to heart, even when she disagreed. She was particularly hurt by Wynne's first opinion about her relationship with Alistair. She knew there was some truth to Wynne's words, but she also thought Wynne was wrong about this. Of all things, what she had with Alistair was not wrong, was not bad. She also adores Wynne's naughtier side. Like how she would tease Alistair.

Some last details! She could not be bribed into evil acts and always sought compromise when she could. The Dalish lived and the werewolf curse was broken. She shut down the slave trade and saved the elder. She persuaded the demon in Connor to leave forever. She named her Mabari Firulais, making it ironic when someone would claim the dog was full of fleas. She was an Arcane Warrior and Shapeshifter. and she ran off into the sunset with the love of her life (and zevran, because he wanted to come along).

[boundinparchment]

Tell Me Who You Wanna Be {And I Will Set You Free} - Epilogue

“You threw me down a fucking cliff just to see if my Vision would reignite?” “As if you had any better ideas on how to reclaim your power. You refuse to touch a Delusion.” The last thing either of them wanted was to be stuck in a safe house with the other. In the middle of a snowstorm in Snezhnaya. Il Dottore x Original Female Character. Also on AO3 here.

She lost track of time.  

They both did.

At last, when the sun crested and the clouds dissipated, they packed up what little provisions were left and made their way back to the Palace.  But not before Dottore draped the cloak, long since abandoned in favor of freedom, around Karina’s shoulders and fastened it closed.

“Keep it for now.  The bitter cold and I are old friends.”

A gesture of goodwill that Karina knew not to be taken at face value.  Returning to the Palace in a Harbinger’s cloak would catch attention; she had nothing this ornate, not even as a Warden, and it was clearly intended for a taller individual.  To say nothing of the shared scents that lingered in the fabric, in the collar.  

Reminders of their coupling were inescapable.

Her hips were looser, the aches across her body akin to those from combat training, rewarding in their presence.  

Everything felt sharper, clearer.  The snow wasn’t just stark white but glowed an iridescent blue, its crystals sparkling in the sun.  Wildlife had yet to truly wake, distant birds singing their delight as the occasional rabbit darted back to its den.  Of course, an ever-present cold nipped at every piece of bare skin it could, tempered only by the slight warmth of morning.

They said little to one another but she found the silence comforting, for once.  She wasn’t sure whether it was because her nerves were still recovering or if his words had truly worn down the sharp edges that kept her detached from the circumstances around her.  Both, perhaps.  His considerations echoed in her mind.

Her disabled Vision, a gift in its lack of operation and elemental power?  A concept she’d thought of but one she never found comfort in.

But he was right.  She knew what Celestia was capable of from the stories the Jester and the Tsaritsa told.  The Floating Island and a single Nail hung above Fontaine like a guillotine blade, just waiting to be released so gravity could do the rest; she couldn’t remember a time the skies were clear.  

Why accept power from Gods that destroyed nations for daring to dream?  Better yet, why should the Gods decide their fate?  Why should their paths be written in the stars, in the fruit of the Iruminsel Tree?  

Why give the illusion of choice when none of it mattered, in the end?

The weight of the cloak felt heavier now.  Less of a garment to keep warm, more of a reminder of the cost of such questions.  Ones that the man beside her no doubt had already asked.  Whether he had answers, however…

The Palace loomed in the distance as the path widened for caravans and carriages.  The road was still quiet, although littered with hidden agents and guards, those tasked with caring for the Palace and its grounds.  They didn’t speak until they reached the gates, where those awake at this hour gave them an inquisitive glance and a wide berth; it helped that no one ever knew whether Dottore proper was out and about or if a Segment was wandering in his place.

“I intend to depart by tomorrow,” Dottore said, never breaking his stride.  “While the Puppeteer and Dove are well-equipped, I have no doubt our banker will want to account for the…change of schedule.  You, on the other hand, will leave in two days when the keystone is finished; you will carry it personally.  I was going to have a Segment make the trip but it hardly seems worth the trouble.”

Back to his usual infuriating self already.  Well, at least she didn’t have to worry about awkward meetings and dinners; it was quite clear he had already put everything out of his mind.

The words hung for a second but it was clear from his tone that he wasn’t quite finished.  Dottore stopped for a moment and his covered gaze fell in her direction.  Over the quiet morning sounds, she could hear the quiet hum of his Akasha working.

“Two days should be enough,” he mumbled.  “Seems correct…”

He brushed his fingers along the fur collar and grazed her cheek in the process.  She stiffened under the gesture.  Before she could ask, Dottore said, “I’ll have someone deliver a few things to your quarters with instructions.  Should be efficient but if further problems arise, other arrangements can be made.”

He turned and continued walking again before she could ask for clarification, coat tails fluttering.  She caught up to him quickly without much effort; they had eyes on them, even if it didn’t seem like it, and caution was a necessity.  Not too quick to warrant concern from those around them but quick enough so she didn’t have to shout.

As if anticipating her response, Dottore said, “It doesn’t need to be complicated, Warden.”

Her name no longer had a place on his lips.

“You and I both know it was bound to happen,” he continued.  “We have danced around each other for years.  Your situation is uniquely intriguing and you are constantly seeking answers; I am not one for leaving such things alone.”

He punctuated his sentences with a wave of his hand, the same way he dismissed his assistants and annoying messengers.  

Of course, she realized.  Of course he would do this.  He was so used to it that he could only achieve the self-fulfilling prophecy to the point of instinct.  Forever an outcast, unattached, unwanted.  Her chest ached, drowning out all other weariness and agony she carried.  A pain she knew all too well, one she swallowed and used as fuel when grief didn’t cut it.  

All of that nonsense about them being the same, about them knowing what it was to be abandoned by the Divine…

Bullshit.

How had she mistaken it for anything other than manipulation, just part of another experiment?  A cause, action taken just to find out its effect?  Had she really thought…

Karina caught up to him and stepped in front of him, cutting off his path.  His jaw was so tense she swore he would shatter a tooth as he quietly seethed, acutely aware of their setting.  She didn’t need to see his eyes to know the fury pointed in her direction.

“You’re right, Zandik,” she hissed.  “It doesn’t have to be complicated.”

Despite her trembling hands, the clasp of the cloak gave way with ease and the garment fell from her shoulders.  It landed in the snow with a soft thump.

Karina stepped out of her and continued towards the Palace, thankful for the wind; it cut through her with a sharpness that no other blade could provide.

____________________

“Doctor, please explain this requisition to me again.”

Pantalone rested his elbows on his desk as he laced his fingers together, awaiting a response.  His golden eyes narrowed on the man across from him, who seemed keen to be anywhere else.

Not wholly surprising.  Whenever he was out of his lab or away from a dedicated project, Dottore seemed to only ever long to be away from people again.  His usual dramatic flair, often a way for him to flaunt his superior intellect, was tucked away and nowhere to be seen.  The Second Harbinger sat reclined in his seat and an ankle crossed over his knee, foot bouncing.

He’d been in Fontaine barely twenty-four hours, delayed several days due to poor weather.  

Dottore was growing impatient, Regrator noted.  Or was uncomfortable with the circumstances surrounding the request.  The Ninth had seen this on rare occasions, usually just the two of them, when Dottore’s memories were less than whole.

“I’ve explained this twice , Regrator.  Need I examine your ears, on the chance your hearing is going?”

Immediately defensive, to boot.

A shame this situation didn’t involve a difficult client with Northland instead of a fellow Harbinger.  He wouldn’t have to be so accommodating.

“Let me see if I follow, then,” Pantalone replied.  “You are requesting new winter attire because you burned the previous one?”

“I ran out of firewood.  It made for good kindling.”

“And–” Pantalone looked down at the paper before looking at Dottore over his glasses, “why isn’t Warden Alexandre putting in her own requisitions?  If she were in need of proper attire, she knows the channels through which to get them.”

“She knows herself as most Electro users do but she’s stubborn to the point of self-harm and underestimates the harsh climate.  It seemed more prudent to kill two birds with one stone.”

“It almost sounds as though you care, Doctor.  This is coming out of your budget, after all, and she isn't properly assigned to a Harbinger yet.”

Dottore’s gaze, uncovered for once, fell away from the clock on the wall and towards Pantalone.  “What are you implying, Regrator?”

“Has your curiosity gotten the better of you, finally?  Several accounts seem to suggest the two of you returned together, that you chucked the cloak into the incinerator upon stepping foot in Haeresys.”

The two stared at one another, Dottore silently daring the other man to continue.  The Ninth knew the twitch of Dottore’s jaw, the edge upon which the other Harbinger seemed to stand, civil for the sake of efficiency, nerves frayed.  

“But perhaps you are correct, Doctor.  It is hardly my place to question the will of those closest to Her Majesty.  After all, I’m just a humble banker, not a matchmaker.”

Dottore grimaced at the smile Pantalone plastered on his face.  Who needed a mask when facades did just as easily to hide one’s true intentions?

It was not a fight he could win, Pantalone knew.  At least not right now.

[janekfan]

Inspired by @nebulabun! They have an awesome comic you should check out!!

“Mighty Sinnoh above.”

The Great Melli could not believe he was once again traveling with the Sneasler Noble’s Warden. It was though he was asking for everything in what was shaping up to be an already miserable day, to go wrong.

And this heat.

“Why is it so hot?!”

Unseasonably warm for this time of year, Melli followed the bowed back clad in a heavy black coat in front of him as the sun climbed ever higher in the pale blue sky. The calls of various bug Pokemon vibrated the very air around them, accentuating the lack of any breeze.

“I could be taking a bath right now, instead of reeking as bad as the space cadet.” Fully aware that Ingo could hear him, Melli carried on, full of drama and flare as was his usual modus operandi. He couldn’t help it. All this sweat and activity was just asking for frizzy hair and chafing in places he’d rather not be chafed. He heaved an afflicted sigh.

“I do appreciate your assistance today, Warden Melli.” Ingo looked up at him from beneath the brim of his odd hat, impassive expression seeming to see beneath the carefully curated exterior Melli projected.

“Haa?”

“I was sorely needing this round of supplies. Without your aid, I would have been in dire straits.”

Oh! It was no wonder really, considering it hadn’t been that long since the uh, Alpha Luxray attack just a few weeks ago. Ingo hid the remaining limp surprisingly well. Where Melli had to look for it now, before he’d ached just watching the other Warden fulfill his duties in slow motion the few times they’d crossed paths out in the Highlands.

Let nobody say he shirked his duties to his fellow man.

Even one so strange as this.

“Well, count yourself lucky, Pearl Peasant!” Proud, on the knife edge of cavelier. It wouldn’t do if Ingo mistook this relationship as something resembling, dare he think it–friendship. “The true Sinnoh and I have taken pity on your plight and come to you as your savior–” He gave Ingo a once over, lingering on his tattered greatcoat and wondering quite sincerely how he wasn’t melting in the heat. “How are you wearing all that? It’s sweltering–that’s got to be a hazard!”

Don’t the elderly die from this weather?

How old was Ingo anyway? Gray hair aside, he’d been pretty spry taking on a Pokemon with his bare hands.

“Your concern is valid; however, I assure you that my engines do not overheat so easily.” Why did he insist on using those curious phrases? A deft hand lifted the brim of his strange cap. Was that surprise he detected? Or something more? “I run cooler than…” Oh, Sinnoh. Ingo’s voice faded like stars in the presence of the sun. “Cooler than most…”

Melli watched the almost unnatural light fade from his eyes as they went steadily vacant and despite seeing him waver, knowing intimately what was to happen next, failed to catch Ingo when the Warden tipped forward into the dirt.

Sweet, merciful…

Lord Electrode’s Warden landed on his knees beside the prone body, rolling Ingo over to get a good look at him. Cheeks dusted in a hectic flush. Breath shallow and fast. Skin so hot and dry where he felt for his Buneary-quick pulse. Of course he’d managed to give himself heatstroke. Why not. It was more than clear how little he cared for Melli’s extremely valuable time if he was so willing to throw himself left and right into danger!

Gently, muttering curses under his breath all the while, Melli dragged him into the shade and stripped Ingo of his ridiculous and tightly woven garb. Black. Dour and drab. He wouldn’t be caught dead in this color–smacking his face lightly in an attempt to rouse him and to no avail.

He debated hitting him harder.

But no. That would be taking advantage of the situation and Ingo did seem to bring out the best in him.

Against his considerable will.

Instead, he tipped water from the fool’s own full canteen drop by drop onto his tongue, laying a damp cloth against the galloping pulsepoint in his neck, each wrist. Over and over in a steady trifecta until Ingo’s bleary, unfocused gaze caught his eye. With a put upon sigh, Melli leavered him upright, catching him this time when he threatened to swoon again, and forcing another mouthful of water on Ingo while he collected his very limited bearings. Slowly, slowly. No good for either of them if he was sick from it.

They weren’t far from the river and Ingo had recovered enough to stand with his help and hobble to the bank, laying back in the grass, dizzy, while Melli removed his odd shoes and rolled up each pant leg before dropping them unceremoniously in the water with a dull splash.

Relief.

Ingo sighed in it, feeling quite sheepish and closing his eyes against the spinning of the sky above him. How had he ever managed to survive before in wherever he came from? Was he as hopeless? He very much hoped not.

“Honestly, you need an intervention, because you obviously can’t take care of yourself.” Melli was clearly miffed, rinsing a cloth and wringing it out repeatedly in agitation. “Don’t you think of your Lady Sneasler? If you dried out like a beached Magikarp she’d have to look for another Warden!” And likely murder him. Two Wardens lost for want of a sip of water. “It’s a hassle. A shameful preventable waste. Of. Time.” Drinking slowly, Ingo listened because it was the polite thing to do, but the words were beginning to fade into the background of his pounding headache. “If we could be privy to her words she’d say, ‘oh, this is nooo surprise. My chosen one has a mind of a dull spheal.” Melli’s voice slipped further and further away. “I just like carrying him around like an accessory.’ Is that why she picked you? Sinnoh works in mysteeerious ways, I guess!!!”

There was something familiar in the way he spoke.

In the way he extended his arm. Like someone else did so long ago he could barely remember.

“Here. Take this.” He could see them. This memory. Playing out before him as though he’d been transported back.

“I can’t believe you two! Listen, you have to take your coats off. It’s not winter anymore.”

Just past the person directly in his line of sight, was an image of the man who looked like him fanning himself with his white cap, tie pulled loose. No matter how hard Ingo tried, he couldn’t quite make out his face though he was fairly certain it would mirror his own. The young woman was familiar too, holding out a bottle of water and looking sweaty herself despite her bare arms. Long and trailing, her hair framed her face.

“We’re shopping for summer fits later. You can thank me then.”

Try as he might, Ingo couldn’t make these strange words reconcile in his memory. He knew he should know them. Pain sparked behind his eyes.

“Awww. But that is boring.” The other man whined, playful and moody and Ingo knew he’d been just as uncomfortable as himself. Vaguely he remembered shouting, the rumbling of a pack of Graveler beneath his feet and a great wash of dizzying heat enveloping the both of them until it was difficult to breathe.

“Then maybe don’t wear an insulated jacket when you’re battling against a fire-type in a closed train car.” Ire and disbelief lit her eyes from within even as the man in white tried to argue.

“It is air conditioned. Gets chilly in there. Even in the summer–”

“Still!” Finger extended to cut him off. Dazzling grin sheepish and chagrined. “When a challenger yells “overheat” they don’t mean you.” The pun went unappreciated even while she grinned bright and wide.

“Boo. Verrry bad. Do not do that again.” As hard as he fought for it to remain, the memory faded, leaving behind the vaguest impressions and a sense of sorrow for what he’d lost.

He tried to hang onto her smiling face, to memorize it like he’d been unable to do for the man in white.

“Drink up, Bidoofus number one.”

“Wwwhy are you looking at me like that?” Ingo blinked at Melli, his uneasy visage a mirror image of her’s, left holding a towel for however long he’d been away. “It’s…a wet towel.” He looked worried or perhaps perturbed, with his lilac hair framing his face. “Do you know what a towel is?”

“Thank you–” and he was cut off by the resounding slap of it hitting him full in the face at the same time Melli shouted.

“Stop staring, weirdo!!!” Melli looked upset, and rightfully so, Ingo supposed. Once again, he found himself in the other Warden’s debt as he wiped his face and a swath of cool relief spread outward in the wake of the damp cloth across his overheated skin.

“I apologize. I lost my train of thought.” How could he explain that it was so much more than just that? “A memory arrived to my station.” Melli watched his eyes become downcast and melancholy. He was secure enough to admit he’d been afraid when Ingo seemed to fade again, unresponsive to even his impeccable nettling. “The concern on your face…it reminds me of someone, a dear friend, from my lost past.” It was easy to forget sometimes that while Ingo was a, dare he even say it, strong Warden, he was also missing innumerable pieces of himself, left behind in the place he originally belonged. He observed warily, waiting for the amnesiac to continue, and, offhand, while staring off into the middle distance, ingo murmured, “she was quite beautiful, too.”

And just as quickly, Melli regretted every kind word, every gracious reflection, he’d ever thought about Ingo, panicking internally at the implications here. Sneasler’s Warden, oblivious as always, went back to dabbling his feet in the water, staring at nothing. Everything?

In truth, Melli couldn’t really blame him, could he? He was the most beautiful thing for miles around.

What kind of message are you trying to send, old man???

[greypetrel]

party 4 and codex 7 for all the girls (or whoever you want to do) :)

Hi Mary, thank you for asking!! :D

Here's another academic paper on my blorbos, thank you for enabling it! <3

Tis the prompt list

PARTY

4. Are there any companions (or advisors) they don’t get along with? Have any of them ever left the party?

Alyra: She had a rough time getting along with Leliana ("God told me to come with you!" "Oh most holy blessed Mythal give me strenght...") but they eventually found common ground and got along, Leliana taught her her specialization and how to stab people even better. The one she got along the least with is Wynne. She respect her skills greatly, but can't stand how nosey she is with her love life and why she thinks she has any right to talk. Everyone is an adult and expressed consent, there's no more to say. They may share some moralities, but their ways are really different. Nobody left the party, tho, she doesn't hate Wynne. Her hate goes only for Arl Eamon (Teagan's not intelligent enough, to her, to be hated).

Raina: Already answered here! (for brevity: she doesn't get along with Sebastian, both him and Anders left after the Chantry)

Aisling: Vivienne. She's a people pleaser and convinced that people are inherently good. But, there are boundaries she won't go against. They're really incompatible people, all in all. Aisling hates the Game and has to put effort in masking what she's thinking and feeling... Which for Vivienne is all political ammunition and something Aisling should stop doing. Aisling is not ambitious and couldn't care less for power, whilst for Vivienne is rightfully a matter of personal freedom and interest. Their relationship was... Polite, but educate, save a couple of episodes. Aisling avoid her at the best because she knows they don't get along, but keeps it civil. (Except the one time Vivienne called Cole "her pet demon" and she snapped and answered in tow. The whole of the Inquisition never says the word "Pet" in her presence as a consequence.) When Vivienne asked her for help with the potion... Aisling took it in stride, thought it was a way to finally build a relationship, that maybe Vivienne doesn't really hate her, maybe they can be friends! (she's a people pleaser, yes). When she brought her to assist to Laurent she was pretty sure she warmed up to her, got back to Skyhold all giddy and smiley. And then, Vivienne introduced her to Laurent's family just to make herself look better, all but told her she used her kindness... And that was it, for Aisling. She felt horrible and never trusted her again. She doesn't really believe that in the Exalted Council she got her to spa day out of good heart, for her it's pity at the best, some sort of political scheme at worst.

Radha: She smelled Blackwall's lie in a couple of days. She... Knew he was hiding something. Never trusted him one bit, he was too vague on the Wardens. Particularly after meeting an actual one. She never kicked him out, but it wasn't a surprise when he revealed his true identity. Sent him to the Wardens without a second thought. Wasn't so keen on Sera as well, too much shitting on her culture, she didn't feel like listening to her if she wasn't willing to do the same first, but she never kicked her out.

Codex:

7. How do they feel about religions that are not their own, like the Chantry or the Qun?

Alyra: You can believe in a mystical wheel of cheese for all she cares. As long as you don't hurt others, your house, your rules, she'll ask you what does the wheel of cheese do and leave you be. She's not ok with religion mixing with politics: it's not religion anymore, it's doctrine, and she's not ok with that. Particularly with the Chantry, she thinks it's highly hypocrite of them to fuck both mages and templars as they do and call it morality. Politically, she very rarely listen to the Chantry, cares about it just because she can... But let's say that in Vigil's Keep the Chantry has no saying or political power, they can hold mass and she's ok, she won't invite any Chantry Mother to her private council.

Raina: Doesn't trust the Chantry for obvious reasons, it was what forced her father and siblings to hide and fucked their lives. She's fascinated by the Qun. Mind me, she'd do HORRIBLY under it... But the idea of everything being in order, having some clear task to do ahead, is something she finds soothing. Elven gods are good enough, after enough with Merrill she'll got interested in them and will start to respect them enough, if Merrill wants to celebrate, she'll give her support and help. Why not? If the Maker and Andraste exist, why not the Creators.

Aisling: She's interested in religions as philosophies, she has no problems accepting Andraste too as a deity, why not? She doesn't worship nor follow the Chant of Light, but can see the beauty in its philosophy, will bring her mind leaves here and there. (started as a misunderstanding over the Maker's stale breath... She kept it up out of habit). Some things of the Qun are good as well, as a philosophy! She's very respectful for every religion in personal use... For her as well the situation changes when it mixes with politics. Can't condone the Chantry as an institution for what it did to both Mages and Templars, can't condone the Qun as an institution for how they treat mages and how in his personal mission Bull was nullified as an identity, and forced to choose between his culture and his men. She's the one more prone to come to a mixed cult, Ameridan's style.

Radha: Respects the right of other people to believe in what they want. As long as they keep her believing in her own gods. Has maybe a harder time distinguishing philosophy and institutions, Andrastianism for her is tainted by the Chantry, and the Qun as well. (even if she's the one who'll fare the best under the Qun, actually) Will learn about them for the sake of it... Believing in anything else? No, thank you.

[curvyelf-moved]

A Tavern Scene, By Any Other Name

Anthea Hawke x Anders ft. a ruffled Carver & Fenris

Maddening. That was the easiest, most shallow conclusion to be drawn about one Anthea Hawke. It was a conclusion Anders himself had fallen to, after meeting her.

He sat at a table in the Hanged Man, barely listening to the prattling of her brother. Anders’ eyes were solely fixated on Hawke, watching her and Fenris “talk” with a man who had been fudging ledgers to cover up alleged slave tradings.

She baffled him. Infuriated, even. A woman capable of such grand acts of heroism for their kind, mottled with the cold shrewd nature of a soul that had no business being in such a young body.

Everything in her nature seemed to scream delicacy. The shape of her hips and breasts, the sound of her voice, the warm color of her hair.

She treated such gifts as a curse, styling her hair slicked back like a coat of blood, wearing severe clothes tailored to make her beautiful softness more angular. Even her name, Anthea, was too flowery for her liking. It was Hawke.

Anders could respect her freedom and choices, even if they did not make sense to him, but that did not mean he wouldn’t try to unravel them in his mind from time to time..

Anthea was wound so tight and knotted, and he yearned to feel the frayed edges inside. The satisfaction of unwinding a tangled ball of twine.

“Why is it your sister goes by Hawke? It seems odd for a woman who has never been in a military or government” Anders mused

“Were you even listening to me?” The boy replied, rightly annoyed by the interruption.

“No, I wasn’t. But I’ll buy you a drink if you tell me. And by that I mean I’ll put it on Varric’s outstanding tab” Anders halfheartedly offered, tearing his eyes away from her to look at Carver.

Carver’s eyes narrowed and he took a sip of his current drink, unfortunately accustomed to the slight.

“My mother. With returning to Kirkwall, she’s been longing for her family’s former glory. The Amells. Anthea resents her for it. You won’t hear her called Hawke in our home, but it’s the name she wants to make for us in the City” he explained

Anders smirked. A befitting explanation, from what he’d seen of the woman so far.

As Hawke and Fenris returned, Anders shifted his posturing just slightly, something he couldn’t help but do around the elf.

“Docks.” Hawke’s honeyed voice said bluntly, “I know you’re busy with your clinic, Anders, and I can’t promise coin from this. Tend to your people tonight, I’ll have need of you later. Carver, you’re coming. I’ll need more muscle than Fenris alone”

Anders nodded at the dismissal. He couldn’t help but feel like he was back in the wardens when she spoke to him like that, but he appreciated she understood his plight.

As he rose from the table, he gambled a touch, gently encircling his fingers around her slender wrist. His action garnered the elf to instinctively begin to posture for a fight, so Anders quickly let go.

“Be careful, Hawke, the templars will not care if it is slavers that you kill with your magic, only that you killed” he reminded

Anthea’s dark eyes narrowed at him, and he could see some sort of conflict within her, but he couldn’t place it.

“Keep a light on for me tonight, in case anyone needs healing” she finally said, subtly eyeing the length of Anders’ frame as he left.

“We will move in the shadows” he heard Fenris tell her.

Another oddity, how the man who supposedly hated magic so had openly expressed concern for Hawke’s capture more than once. He could despise the man’s ignorance, but couldn’t question his fealty to the woman. There was something about her that drew the unlikeliest people together.

[myths-of-fantasy]

Snippet 7 - A Place to Call Home Pt. 2

For a group of cats that live mostly separate, they sure group up a lot, Rusty mused to himself looking at the large collection of cats.

Myna had groaned and whined when Rusty had announced that they would be leaving to meet other cats upon her return but had eaten her prey and walked with them. They didn’t see any other cats as Willow led them in a seemingly random direction into the middle of the forest, but Rusty smelled a lot of them. He felt eyes on his pelt and concluded that they were being followed to this place where the paws dwelled.

“There are a lot of paw places,” said Willow. “But this is where the paws of the Kindra Sector and the Sector of Typhus usually meet. Cats from the Zephyr Sector and cats from the Umber Sector join them sometimes but we haven’t seen any umbers since Raggedstar was named Overseer.”

“Is that unusual?” Myna asked.

“A bit yes,” said Willow. “We older cats tend to keep our friends within the sectors unless we’re planning to move, but the paws are usually very friendly.”

“Oh joy,” said Kite dryly.

“Don’t mind her,” said Myna rolling her eyes. “Kite would spend everyday curled in a hole if we left her.”

“And I do wish you’d let me,” Kite said with a wistful sigh.

Gray snickered at her while Willow gestured with her tail to the clearing ahead. There were a collection of smooth gray rocks laying in what Rusty thinks might be the only sky visible section of the forest, soaking up sunlight with cats sprawled on every available surface.

“These are the Sunningrocks,” said Willow. “Bluestar and Stormstar negotiated an agreement near the beginning of their leaderships and it’s been neutral ground ever since. “

“There was a huge uproar when it was announced at the Gathering,” Gray said with a mischievous grin. “If you can find the elder’s district, you should ask them about it. Dappleri always tells the story so dramatically.”

“Let the elders have their fun,” chuckled Willow. “Sunningrocks has been a point of tension between Typhus and Kindra since the river tentatively rerouted - before The Separation, we used to fight each other over these stones.”

“Over some rocks?” said Kite, unimpressed.

“It was more of a boundary dispute,” Willow informed. “The area around Sunningrocks gave Kindra a significant amount more hunting territory - but the Typhus lost that territory. Kindra argued that the river was Typhus’ territory and the only reason they had Sunningrocks before was because it was surrounded by water. Typhus said that Sunningrocks had always belonged to them and therefore, they should keep it even though the river changed.”

“Seems silly but then again, I didn’t live through it,” Kite decided, flicking her ear.

“I’m certainly glad that Bluestar and Stormstar put a stop to all that,” Willow agreed. “Lives have been lost over Sunningrocks.”

Their conversation carried them the last few legs of the distance to Sunningrocks where cats glanced up at them curiously.

“I’m going to go sit with the adults,” Willow said, flicking her tail to a collection of cats near the river. “Stay within sight Gray.”

“Yes mom,” he agreed and started up the rocks.

“Hey Grayir,” purred a silver molly, lounging on her back.

“Hey Silverir,” he responded.

“Who are your friends?”

“I’m Rusty,” he spoke up. “And those are my sisters - Kite and Myna.”

“Odd one out with that name,” Silver giggled. “Two birds and a tarnished metal?”

“Two birds and a color,” Rusty corrected as Kite slumped down onto the warm rocks.

“Mmm…” she hummed. “Alright, I can see why wars were waged over these rocks.”

“They do feel nice,” agreed Rusty, settling beside her.

He purred lightly, enjoying the sun seeping into his pelt without the threat of a farcreature attacking him. Rusty had honestly taken their home sanctuary for granted when he was a young kit, naive and ignorant to the struggles of those who walk the world without magical borders and border wardens to protect them.

“Hey guys, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

Rusty cracked open one eye, “Does it require me getting up?”

“No.”

“Then I’m willing to meet him.”

Gray laughed prodding him into opening both of his eyes. Rusty at least gave him that respect, wincing when the sun hit his previously covered eye. As soon as his vision cleared, he noted a lanky brown tom with pale violet eyes and a white tipped tail.

“...he’s cute,” slipped out of Rusty’s mouth making the new tom yelp and hide his face in Gray’s pelt.

“He is, isn’t he?” Gray laughed. “This is Raven - he’s my best friend.  Raven these are my new friends - the tura I got in trouble for.”

“Woah,” said Silver, quickly sitting up. “You didn’t tell me you brought a few tura - can they do anything cool?”

“I don’t know,” admitted Gray. “I assume so - Bluestar seemed really angry so they must be strong in some capacity.”

“There will be no magic demonstrations today,” said Kite. “It’s way more peaceful here than out there and we have no intentions of getting kicked out if we can avoid it.”

“That’s fair,” Gray admitted.

“Well if you don’t want to do magic, but Raven is here, who’s up for a swim?” said Silver, grinning brightly.

“Ew,” said Myna even as Kite clambered to her paws.

“Sure,” she purred. “Rusty? You coming?”

“And leave these warm rocks? No way.”

“Alright, have fun!”

Rusty watched from his position laying down as Kite darted off after Silver towards the river, quickly beginning to splash about in the shallows and giggling loudly. Raven and Gray settled beside him and Myna, starting up a conversation.

He sighed happily and thanked his family’s sacrifice. It seemed now they had a place to rest.

[absinthe-and-tea]

Yooooo can I get uhhh headcanons for the slashers to react to an s/o with big boobs? I mean like, special ordering bras bc no stores have your size big.... 😅

//I know the struggle when it come to pants so I got you. Though I am very tired so sorry if it's not the best-

Slasher HCs || S/O W/ Large Breasts

Jason Voorhees

When he first meets you, it's one of the first thing he notices. On accident of course.

He'll get really flustered and distracted by them and if you give him permission, he'll immediately be on you and massaging the soft flesh.

He's confused when you randomly leave the house and go ti the edge of camp to grab a box. When he questions you about and you explain he'll just slowly nod.

He'll start looting his victims for money so that you can buy more bras for yourself since he doesn't work.

If he notices that your in pain from the weight of them, he'll make sure to pamper you more than usual and give you back massages and whatnot.

Michael Myers

He'll just stare. No reaction. No movement. Just stare at you until you feel uncomfortable and try to leave.

He won't let you leave. You're now being kidnapped. Have fun.

He won't really do much unless you move his hands to your chest. He'll grope a bit too hard at first but he'll get softer over time.

He's not very affectionate so he won't give you massages or anything like that but he'll bring you heating pads and icy hot. Things to help ease the muscles.

If you find a credit/debit card by your bedside table, don't be surprised and dont ask where he got it or where the money is coming from.

Harry Warden

Absolutely stops in his tracks the moment he sees you. Pickaxe raised above his head, just completely still as he stares down your cleavage from his height.

Thank God he's wearing a mask bevause his face is bright red and he's pretty sure his nose is bleeding.

If you start running, he'll drop the pickaxe and bolt after you, immediately grabbing you by the boobs on accident.

He's keeping you. And if you explain you need to leave to get custom bras or need internet to order them, he'll do it for you.

Won't complain one bit if you have him massage your back your breasts. The moment you even start asking, he will be on it.

Vincent Sinclair

Super shy about it. He does his best not to look or stare but he thinks it adds to how gorgeous you are.

Thinks your a goddess sent from the heavens.

Won't mind that you have to get custom bras. He'll even help modify smaller ones to fit you if you like them.

He'll be hesitant to give you massages and whatnot, afraid he'll accidentally hurt you but after you reassure him he'll happily oblige.

Bo Sinclair

Instant horny.

He's always touching you any chance he gets. If he sees anyone stare or even look in that direction, they are on the top of his hit list.

He'll offer to hold your breasts for you to relieve the strain on your back with a perverted grin.

Will make sure you have the money to buy specialty bras. Just make sure you buy a few lacy ones for him to admire on you

He'll pick on you if you ask for a massage, making remarks on how much you love his hands on you. Though he'll comply very easily and he actually enjoys the soft moments more than he'll care to admit.

Lester Sinclair

He's immediately invested.

He loves using them as pillows, or gently moving them around.

He notices pretty quick that they can be difficult to live with and does whatever he can to help out. He's not rich by any means but he'll do his best to help support you and buy you the size bras you need.

He loves touching you so it's no bother to him to give you massages.

He's not very tall compared to his brothers so he loves sleeping with his face buried between your breasts and his arms around your waist.

Brahms Heelshire

He watches you constantly. Always trying to get the best angles so he could stare at your cleavage when you bent over.

Sometimes you'll wake up with more added to your list of things to do. Most of them requiring you to bend over.

He'll notice that it starts to take a toll and stop. But instead he'll start crawling into bed with you, running his hands up your shirt to softly grope your breasts.

He's rich so of course he'll give you all the money you need for bras and for any clothes you may want.

He still prefers you steal his clothes tho but be warned he will be very handsy if you do. Even more so than usual.

The Other

He likes them a lot more than he'd like to admit.

While he doesnt express his emotions often, he'll definitely express how much he enjoys them.

Whether it's when they are pressed against him when cuddling or hugging. Or if they are just in his general line of sight.

He gives you soft praises for having the strength to carry them around amd will sometimes make remarks to help, holding out his hands.

He'll massage your back and run baths for you anytime your muscles get too strained.

Will make sure you have the money at all times to buy your specialty bras or comfortable clothes.

Thomas Hewitt

He loves them. He loves holding them. Massaging them.

He will make sure you never have to lift anything. He'll always pick up the harder work for you, knowing how uncomfortable it can be to carry things with your boobs in the way.

He'll run warm baths for you whenever he can. And massage your entire body from head to toe.

He's not rich but he dies know how to sow, meaning he'll make you perfectly fitted bras anytime you want.

Bubba Sawyer

Doesn't quite understand why you seem uncomfortable sometimes. You'll have to explain the difficulties of having big breasts to him.

Like Thomas, he'll make you bras. Though they won't me as neatly made but he's proud of them.

Happy to massage you and whatnot.

Absolutely loves if you sleep on top of him or pressed really close. Might start to rub your breasts without realizing it because he thinks they are soft.

Will happily wait on you if you had a hard day and your back hurts. Lay in bed and let him take care of you.

[writtenjewels]

Prison part 3

Part One, Part Two

It wasn't easy convincing the warden to change the food options, but Jason had a handy card up his sleeve: the warden's estranged wife. He and Rachel were in the same unit once and after a talk with her, she got Eric to agree and the next day the prisoners were all eating halal food.

Jason made sure he was one of the guards on cafeteria duty so he could see Othman's reaction. The man stepped in line, his body going rigid when he noticed the food being piled on his plate. He turned his head and searched the cafeteria until his eyes lit on Jason.

You? He mouthed, nodding down to his plate. Jason grinned and nodded back. Othman smiled back and ducked his head. Was he blushing? Jason felt pretty damn pleased with himself.

Jason just could not get a good feel for this guy. When they spoke to each other, Othman came off as this cocky smart-ass, but when Jason did something nice the guy suddenly turned shy. It was a little weird. Jason wished there was a way he could talk to Othman and see which side would come out. Normally guards only interacted with prisoners to punish them or take them to the infirmary after a fight.

The next time Jason saw Othman was out in the yard. He was playing cards with a few other inmates and had won a few cigarettes. Jason wondered what Othman intended to use them for. He hovered to watch the next game.

“You want in on this one, Kolchek?” Merwin drawled out. Othman lifted his head to look up, catching Jason's eye. The man's smile was so warm Jason felt it all the way down to his toes.

“Depends. You take IOU's, Merwin? I'll bring candy bars on my next shift.”

“I'll take a piece of that action,” Joey spoke up. “I haven't had a candy bar in ages.”

“Scoot your ass, then.” Jason nudged Joey with a toe. The man obligingly moved over, Merwin immediately putting a hand on his thigh when he got close enough. The space left behind was close to Othman. Jason could feel the man's eyes on him as he sat down.

“Hey, Kolchek, you meet our boy Salim yet?” Merwin asked. “Fresh meat and already he got into it with one of the other prisoners. The man's got balls.”

“That so?” Jason tilted his head in Salim's direction. Salim. The older man jutted his chin up in a defiant gesture. “Sounds like I gotta keep a close eye on you.”

“Don't expect for me to start calling you 'boss'.” Merwin and Joey hooted in appreciation. Jason just smirked. Cocky smart-ass it was. Merwin dealt the hand and they settled in to play. Joey badly wanted those candy bars and ended up winning the hand.

“Get some with nuts,” Merwin suggested. “You know how much I like a good nut in my mouth.” He leered at Joey.

“Ignore Merwin,” Jason advised Salim. “He lacks social skills.”

“Don't worry,” Salim replied with a teasing glint in his eyes, “I usually ignore annoying loudmouths.” That got the other two to laugh again. Prisoners talking back was nothing new but the way Salim did it came off as playful.

“I see now why you got locked up here for assault: somebody got tired of your constant bullshit and decked you.” Jason was enjoying this verbal sparring match so much that the call ending recreation time startled him. He got to his feet first and cleared his throat.

“All right, move along to your work assignments.” Merwin scooped up his cards and headed out, giving Joey's ass a little pinch just to remind the other inmates of his claim. Salim dragged his feet and Jason gave him another gentle nudge forward. “I said move along.”

“Thank you for making the food halal,” Salim said quietly. “That was kind of you.”

“I'll make sure the candy is, too,” Jason assured him. Salim smiled at that and very lightly traced over Jason's tattoo with a finger.

“ 'Death before Dishonor',” he read out loud.

“I was a marine,” Jason explained.

“A jarhead. That explains a lot.”

“Oh, shut up, you dick,” Jason snorted light-heartedly. Salim chuckled and gave his arm a squeeze before backing away. Jason was a little disappointed.

They walked back into the prison. Salim kept his face forward but Jason was sure the older man was smiling. Jason couldn't manage to wipe his own smile off his face no matter how hard he tried.

[toxic-gorgon]

Yandere Dio Brando x Reader: Useless

Synapsis: You are one of the last hamon users and while the practice itself has died along Lisa Lisa, except for a tiny handful of users. While most are willing to allow their gifts to die out and go about their daily lives, you want to put yours to good use and join the crusaders.

Content Warning: Extremely dark themes, click the read more at your own risk! Non-con, blood, yandere Dio, depression/hopelessness, corruption kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, talks of su*cide, violence, and extremely spicy themes. 18+, minors DNI! By continuing to read, you understand the risk.

When you joined the Speedwagon Foundation, you knew the chances of you dying for Mr. Joestar’s cause was almost inevitable. Your gifts were nothing compared to the powerful and unique stands that you came across during the start of your journey. You were one of the last remaining hamon users, but instead of allowing it to fizzle out like the others who trade their gifts for normal lives, you wanted to help and be useful! Lisa Lisa long passed and you heard stories of how hamon saved the world. Allowing hamon to die was allowing a part of yourself to die. 

Hamon was useless against stands, but worked wonders against humans and vampires. However, you primarily used yours for healing and support! The crusaders could use all the help they could get, so it made sense when the directors approached you for the task. Their lives are in your hands, and if it means to put an end to the vampyric Dio’s reign, then you’ll do your part and make sure these boys stay alive.

That’s what you thought at the beginning, back before your days meshed together and all time seemed to stagnate. 

You weren’t sure how many days it’s been since you first arrived in this suffocating manor in Cairo. The dark and coldness inside the manor contrasts the warm and vibrant colors outside your window during the day. You were ever the spunky one when you first arrived, you knew your friends were well on their way and you had no problem voicing that fact loudly in Dio’s presence. He would scoff, flashing you an amused grin, after all you were (as what he puts it) like a fangless, clawless feline. You don’t pose any real threat, but it’s cute to see you try. 

Dio is every bit what the rumors said. His raw charisma and power alone should frighten you, but that’s just one piece of the puzzle that’s Dio Brando. His beauty was truly breathtaking, much more so in person, his shirtless form proudly displayed like a painting hung carefully in the Louvre. His voice charmingly suave, almost a mesmerizing melody that beckons you closer like a siren’s call that you can’t block out. Worst of all was his eyes, that piercing gaze of his that can see right through you, all your worst fears and highest hopes, nothing can be hidden from this man. 

When you first arrived at his mansion, you were awestruck. Cat-got-your-tongue indeed as you drank in the imposing monster of a man, your enemy. What could he possibly want from you? His smirk makes your chest clench as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You wanted to run, and you would’ve if it wasn’t for you being so goddamned weak. You were completely at his fucking mercy, all he had to do was give the word and you would meet your end. You expected to die right then and there, surely a man like Dio would take out his enemy while he had the chance, just so later down the line it won’t bite him in the ass. You weren’t sure if it was out of pity or amusement, but your death never came. Instead, the cocky asshole smriks and gives you his blessing to tour his home. Hell, he even allowed you access to his library, on the grounds that if you did decide to run, you would be all too easy to catch. You were convinced this man had no real plan for you being here, besides making things much harder for the crusaders by stealing away their healer. 

You were determined to keep your head held high and wait for your knights in shining armor. 

But now, you’re just a shallow husk of despair. All the hope and conviction you had died little by little as the days went by, as those dark thoughts that Dio would mock you with began to take root. There’s no point in brainwashing you when your conviction can be shattered so easily. During the day, Vanilla Ice and Pet Shop watch over you. You absolutely loathe Vanilla Ice. His blind devotion towards his master churned your stomach, all the while he’s looking down on you and lack of stand ability. His words stung, but now they mirror static, background noise for your chaotic thoughts. 

Pet Shop was your preferred caretaker. He’s a bird, so he can’t talk like your other wardens. However, you could’ve sworn you saw that bird smirk once or twice, and his steely gaze mirrored his cocky yet powerful master. Perhaps the bird was silently judging you, even mocking you for being more caged than he was. After all, Pet Shop was allowed to move past the mansion’s windows and enjoy the fresh air and sun, even though he stayed within his bounds. A murder hawk has more freedom than you do.

The nights are always the worst. Screams of ecstasy or pain, you weren’t sure which anymore, filled the halls. After a while of being imprisoned, they all sound the same. How long before you’re next? You felt like it was any day now, and eventually your captor will grow bored of your constant banter. Perhaps that would be for the best, you’re dead weight anyway as long as you remain here.

Your friends were on a mission to save Holly, which you admit is more important than rescuing you. You knew the risk after when you joined this crusade, you just didn’t think it would end here in the lion’s den. You contemplated jumping out the window, not caring how painful the initial impact would be. You always decide against it, and instead sit and wait, chalking it up to being a coward as well. Everyday when your saviors hadn’t come, the little bit of hope inside was crushed gradually until barely anything was left besides tears of frustration and a luxurious queen sized bed to help you sleep.

Since you’ve been here, Dio took the liberty of making sure you’re fed three five star meals a day and accompanying you with a wine glass of blood. Such a gentleman, he even made idle chit-chat while you refused to take a bite (no matter how many times he told you it would be a waste poisoning you). Dio boasted about his many achievements, including how he stole Jonathan Jostar’s body, which you weren’t sure if he was just bragging or making sure that even in a casual setting, the threat still lingered. Was this supposed to impress you? Because the only responses you ever gave him were snide remarks and silence. Sometimes he would treat this like a silly game, but on days when he was more temperamental, you wisely chose to nod your head and actually eat what’s in front of you.

He made sure you were treated well, despite your situation. You bathed in a tub fit for a princess with fancy soaps and perfume, and was dressed in the finest of authentic Egyptian gowns that money could buy. All of which were gifts from Dio. He even took the liberty to do away with all your drab belongings and anything that didn’t fit his opulent aesthetic. He even gave you art supplies once. Whenever he gave one of these gifts, he always made sure to attach a rose with it. You always throw them out.

To occupy yourself when your host is gone and taking time for himself, you like to venture to his library and thumb through his vast selection. You’re sure you read over half of his stock by now, but something new always catches your eye to pass the time with. Usually you would saunter off into your room, avoiding the underlings as much as possible, but tonight was one of those nights where Dio met you there. 

“There you are darling, I was worried I missed you.” His smooth voice did little to put you in ease. 

“What do you want?” you sighed, making your way to the bookcase and browsing through different titles. Dio playfully scoffs, as always everything you say is just a game to him, and the disdain in your tone goes unnoticed. You didn’t move an inch when he moved closer to you, towering over your much smaller frame.

“You wound me dear, I only wish to spend time with you.” He leans in close next to your ear, his warm breath tickling your lobe. “Alone.” Now that’s laughable! Dio Brando isn’t a man who did anything out of kindness or ‘quality time’ without something in return. Did he run out of bodies to satisfy his hunger? What could you possibly offer him besides a snack?

“Spend time with you? I’ve seen what you do to the men and women who throw themselves at you for a sliver of attention. Their dead carcass lay about your manor like furniture when you’ve drained them.” You barely whispered. Why were you explaining his misdeeds to him like a child? You weren’t sure if you were trying to reason or reach the last thread of humanity within, but doubt was clearly written on your face. You wanted this to end.

You balled your hands into fists and shook with rage. “Just kill me and get it over with! I’m tired of you and I’m tired of being here!” 

Dio couldn’t help but sneer at your sudden outburst. How can you say these things? He’s given so much to you, and this is how you repay him? Do you not realize what you do to him? How weak he is while in your presence? How absurd. You had to have known, and perhaps you were testing his patience on purpose.

Reaching up and gripping your chin roughly, Dio kept your gaze on him. “I ask very little of you and have given you everything you could ever ask for. Tell me darling, are you truly unhappy?” his lips brush against your own, and his voice dangerously low that it sent shivers down your spine. Your voice was caught in your throat, this tower of a man standing over you so domineering makes you seem insignificant. Like a large cat ready to pounce on his prey. 

Tears run down your cheeks and you had no will to stop them. Why was he doing this to you? As if to answer your question, the blonde captures your lips and wraps his arms around your trembling form. With a jolt of energy you tried to shove him off you in defiance for your space. “Please stop, I don’t want…” you mumble. Growling, Dio pulls away and glares into your glossy puffy eyes, his brows furrowing when you don’t give in so easily.   

“Pet.” he said through gritted teeth, his hand drifting down to your neck and squeezing rough enough to cut off air supply. “You’re being selfish. All I asked from you in return is your loyalty and to surrender yourself to me.” He picks you up by your neck and amusingly smirks when you gasp and attempt to wiggle free, your hands desperate for air. Your nails grazing his skin with little scratches did nothing to phase Dio, instead he chuckles.

“Funny, isn’t it? The man’s body I’ve taken, the only man I would ever call my equal, possesses the same power as you do.” Black dots formed in your vision and your legs grew tired from flailing. He lets you drop from his grip, and while you sit slumped over and choking on air for your burning lungs, Dio looks down with his ruby hues. “Suppose my interest in you is fate, or perhaps you remind me of him.” Bending down to kneel in front of you, Dio pulls you towards his chest and picks you up bridal-style with very little resistance from you. He smirks and leans in to whisper in your ear “However, your strength will never match his.” 

Dio took flawless strides towards the desk on the other side of the room and pinned you down on your stomach against the harsh oak surface. With the wind knocked out of you temporarily, Dio traced his long nails along the soft chiffon fabric of your golden gown before tearing it to shreds down the middle, revealing your back and ass as the now useless fabric pools at your feet. Looking back at your captor’s sadistic smirk, your bloodshot eyes widen with realization. You were observant, he didn’t need to spell out what his intentions were. 

Almost immediately, Dio parts your legs with his knee and runs his fingers along your slit, examining it’s beauty before he decimates it with his cock. Squirming, you tried to push yourself up from the desk. As weak as you were, you had to try! Even though you knew Dio had more than enough strength to overpower you. As if he read your mind, he takes both of your wrists in his strong grip and pins them against your back. 

“Careful dear, you wouldn’t want me to break your arms, would you?” You stopped your struggling and stilled. It was best to get it over with and maybe if you comply, he won’t be as harsh with you, right? Just let him do what he’s going to do and don’t make it worse for yourself. “That’s better!” He smiles. “Lay there and trust your Lord Dio. Don’t worry about a single thing.” Don’t worry? How can you not? But, you did as he said and Dio goes back to running his fingers along your pussy, this time his index flicking against your clit. 

Biting your bottom lip, you shut your eyes tight. Be strong….be strong…. You chanted, but the small shocks of having your clip played with after being in turmoil for so long, it was difficult to not give yourself over for anything that can make you feel a moment of blissful ignorance. You were convinced that either Dio was a mindreader, or you were just so painfully obvious, but he stops his ministrations with your heat and leans in closer, he carelessly grinds his clothed hardened cock against you. He was quite proportioned. 

“Let’s enjoy ourselves, hmmm?” You shuddered at his words (and sizable bulge), a small whimper escaping you. Pleased with your sudden turn around, Dio leans back and without missing a beat, undoes his pants, allowing his cock weeping of precum to spring free. You swallow down a moan when his cock rubs against your clit, teasing your lips. Your cunt quickly became sloppy, as you were beginning to come around and throw caution to the wind. Dio must’ve noticed, because chuckles and mutters. “Don’t hide your cute noises from me now.”

With his cock soaked with your juices, he thrusts in and you do as he says, allowing a hoarse moan erupt from your throat that’s muffled by your face against the desk. This wasn’t going to do, not for Dio. While thrusting at a brutal pace, he yanks your hair back and lifts your head so he can listen to your lustful melodies more clearly. While you pant like a bitch in heat whenever he hits that spot to make you see stars, Dio releases your wrists in favor of gripping your hip tightly, leaving bruises. 

Gasping, you didn’t move your wrists for fear of your lord stopping or worse. Pleased by your obedience, Dio’s pace quickens, just for him to slow down to a tortuous pace. Flustered you cry “W-Why? Please….please….m-more!” You try to turn your head, but his strong grip keeps you in place. What a wonderful development! Definitely a change in the right direction from how you rejected him a few moments ago. But, Dio wasn’t quite satisfied yet. He wanted your everything, not only your spur-of-the-moment submission. He’s Dio Brando, Lord Dio to his brood. He doesn’t settle for less than satisfactory.

With a grin, Dio knew just how he would achieve this. “You beg so pretty darling, I see you’re finally coming to understand who owns you. But begging isn’t enough.” When he started moving again, this time his cock kissing your cervix, your mouth hung agape in a silent scream. Your thoughts thoroughly scrambled with nothing but the pleasure that Dio was offering you. Hell, you weren’t even coherent when your position changed to you being on your back with your legs spread wide and exposed, only for Dio. 

He picks up his pace, your cunt constricting around him as he pounds into your sore pussy, his hand now free from your hair pressed down your abdomen. He felt the slight belly bulge from him delving into your sweet cunt, simply delicious. “Darling-” He said too sweetly. “- You’re absolutely stunning so full of my cock, but I have a wonderful idea. I didn’t appreciate your attitude this evening, but I know how we can fix that!” You were too fucked out to comprehend his words, but nodded like the dumb slut you were. His dumb slut. “I’m going to breed this pussy of yours, fill you up with my cum, and you’re going to take everything I give you. Wouldn’t that be great? You grow big and round while your breasts are full with leaking milk.” He pauses as his hips sputter, his cock pulsating with the vision of you growling his children within your womb. 

“Yes..I think motherhood will suit you well. Forever my ___.” 

Whimpering, you nod in agreement. Whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop. You were so very close! You mumble a breathy fuck when Dio pushes your legs up to your shoulders, diving in much deeper than before. Chanting strings of curses under his breath, Dio’s hand on your stomach drifts down to vigorously rub your sensitive nub and in almost no time at all you cum around his member, your juices rushing out to soak the desk and his cock. 

“Oh god...oh god...oh god..” you chanted, making Dio’s ego inflate more if that were possible. Smirking, he lets you ride out your orgasm, before picking up the pace yet again, this time losing control of himself for once. Brutally he fucks you, his cockhead slamming against your cervix, as your pulsing walls from your aftershocks urges his throbbing shaft, begging to milk it. After a few final thrusts, Dio stills and his cock paints your womb with his seed. 

He wasn’t done yet. Chuckling at your fucked out expression, it was so much like Dio to push for more. He wanted to mark you, make everyone but mostly yourself to know who you belong to. Your chest will do and his mark will be on full display. Using the nail on his index finger, Dio carves his name into your chest, pebbles of blood dripping down your sweaty and spent body after each scrape was made. When he is done, he admires his work, his name etched into your skin almost makes his cock spring back to life. What was he kidding, he could go a few more rounds anyway. But first, he leans in and laps up the blood, waste not want not right?

“There you are, how stunning. Darling, I wish you could see yourself right now.” Your eyes grew heavy, you were so exhausted and ready for a nap. Dio picks you up and doesn’t bother to cover you with your shredded rags. “No, no, don’t pass out now. We have a long night ahead of us.”

[pathetic-dumpling]

A little character analysis in the form of a drabble! It's a bit too short for me to post anywhere else (just about 1k words lol) and I'm just playing around with the concepts for now. Just a quick little impulse drabble!

CW: aftermath of torture, implied/referenced self-harm, aftermath of abuse, starvation, isolation, internalized abuse, dehumanization, self-destructive thoughts and actions, dark portrayals of c!Quackity and c!Sam

The light of the fireplace flickers off of Dream’s pale skin. Potions have long fixed the discoloration and the bruises, but they won’t ever be able to fill the deep gashes and scars lining his frail skin. The ridges of every dent stand out in the pitch-black room. The awkward bends of his joints or his missing teeth. Every single scar tells a story. At one point, they all bled and spilled something across the floor by a man who did it all for his own pleasure. The blood Dream spilled is something he will never get back, both his own and others. He watches the flame. It is supposed to be kind and warm, but if he thinks hard enough, the crackling sounds just like the slow and melodic popping of lava.

He sees it, sometimes. Sometimes, Dream wakes up in a dark room, a crick in his neck and limbs aching, and thinks to himself, oh. Because if he were back, if escape was all just a fever dream, a fantasy given to him by blood loss, what else could he do? Sometimes he can still feel the steady drip of crying obsidian and the unforgiving glow of lava. Dream wants to plunge his hands into the fire, sometimes. Techno tells him not to, but Dream doesn’t really understand why.

...isn’t it what he deserves? That’s what Quackity always said. The Warden, too.

The cell was of his own design, so wasn’t it his to rot in? (Dream’s mind pushes away every memory he has, every meeting to stress the importance of the courtyard. To ward off the isolation and insanity, to give a glimpse of the outside. A barren cell means security without supervision, but it was never meant to house a person indefinitely.) Dream ignores that. The prison was his. The cell was his. He was meant to suffer in there, wasn’t he?

If he didn’t deserve it, then why did Quackity spit words of venom in his face as tooth after tooth was pulled out? Why did Quackity promise that everything he did was to make sure Dream knows how much he’s hurt everyone? That any amount of pain Dream feels will never surmount the pain he’s caused others? If Dream didn’t deserve it, why would the Warden, Sam, one of his last allies and longest friends, sit by and watch? Allow? Why would the Warden withhold Dream’s food and company and books and rights to the courtyard with the explanation that Dream was a monster? With the cold refusal to respond to Dream’s screams for him? For company, for a friend, for salvation, and help, please help, dear God, please help me-

If Dream wasn’t supposed to hurt, if he didn’t deserve that pain… What was it all for? Dream wants to ask Techno that sometimes, but he’s afraid of the answers. Afraid of others coming to the same conclusion Pandora’s Vault came to a long time ago. Pain is the price of love, and Dream is so very tired of hurting over and over until he has nothing left to give. He’s tired of caring and loving because the one person he’s never been able to fight for is himself. Now that he only has himself left to fight for, what can he do?

(Dream fears that he may have found something new to rekindle his fire in the tiny bits of kindness Techno has offered. He doesn’t know if he can continue this fight.)

Dream knows he’s a monster. He knows he’s unforgivable. He knows he’s meant to suffer and be denied and hurt and beaten to the ground. Somehow, the hardest thing to get through is that Techno won’t hurt him. Techno won’t enforce justice like Quackity did or deny Dream like the Warden. At least, not yet. The wait is agonizing. Techno was, is, his ally, but it’s only a matter of time until Techno decides that he’s nothing, too ...right?

The fire crackles. Dreams’ eyes slide over the flames. He tongues the gaps in his mouth, and his fingers trace over every scar and imperfection leftover by supposed lessons. He doesn’t feel like he’s learned all that much outside of how awful, how wrong he is. Other than how to survive when there’s nothing to survive for. Maybe that was the lesson, and Quackity was the price. The Warden. The prison. Maybe starvation and isolation and torture, and dehumanization were all a part of a common goal. Quackity enjoyed doing it, but did that make Quackity wrong?

(Yes. The answer is yes. Techno will tell Dream that he doesn’t deserve the pain inflicted on him despite all Dream has done. Didn’t. Wouldn’t ever deserve that. Techno tells Dream that what happened to him is objectively wrong, awful, and an abuse of power that no one should be subjected to. That no one can be deserving of that. Every time Techno speaks, Dream hears Quackity, and the Warden’s voices echo in his ear and struggles to believe anything else.)

Living with kindness is somehow far more difficult than living with hatred. Maybe it’s because Dream is an old friend to hate, to anger and desperation, and need. Kindness wasn’t any of those things. It is slow and gentle, and soft. It’s almost uncomfortable, almost overwhelming in how little it is. Techno tells him that this is what Dream deserves: kindness and patience, and time. The messages floating around in Dream’s head clash so much it makes his head hurt. It pulses and aches as each voice tries to drown each other out. Dream doesn’t understand why, but even with how awful things seem to feel with the compassion extended to him, Dream can’t seem to make himself let go of it either.

Dream lifts his head. The fireplace in front of him crackles and flickers. The night is cold and dark. The fire is not kind, but the fire is not angry. For once, Dream resists the urge to plunge his hands into the heat. He thinks Techno would be proud.