Zeke + Norah: Some Backstory

Was doing some thinking about the Hawke brothers’ parents in their new universe… They’re basically the same, but here’s what I’ve got:

Zeke:

Ethan looks just like him, but Gil acts just like him– when he’s behaved, anyway
Was an officer in the Levantine army; the two older boys followed in his footsteps
Zeke is pretty self-assured: loud, the center of attention, generally likable and charming, and really good at what he does. He’s the perfect officer. ~~At least when the higher-ups are looking.~~
Not so much a lady’s man as generally, well… he’s always surrounded by hopefuls (of all genders); he’s actually fairly clueless about it all, unless he himself is interested

Norah:

Neal is DEFINITELY her kid: passionate, fiery, bit of a know-it-all
Actually, she couldn’t stand to be around Zeke at first; she thought he was too arrogant, when he’s really just himself (it’s all a bit Pride and Prejudice, really– but more on that later)
She’s also the daughter of Zeke’s SO– ruh roh!
Loves dancing– it’s one of the few things that bring her true joy. In fact, her dream was to be a performer, which she accomplishes with relative ease
She winds up going on the road for a while. She and Zeke exchange letters while she’s away. (Z’s teased mercilessly for it. He gives no figs.)
Eventually, she starts an arts school in Levant; she is still headmaster, although she dances less every year.

Their Story:

Zeke and Norah met at a military ball– and by met, I mean watched each other from a distance. It was love at first sight for Zeke. There was no lack of interest on Norah’s part, either, but neither had a chance to talk. Mostly, they exchanged glances and comically missed each other at every turn. Zeke was always surrounded by a crowd but turned down every dance partner; it made him seem standoffish and conceited in Norah’s mind, when really he just has two left feet and hates dancing. He couldn’t quite get up the courage to ask her to have her feet stepped on, and by the end of the night neither had made a move.

Months pass. They don’t see each other again until one day Norah visits her father (Zeke’s superior officer) at work. Undeterred, Zeke determines right then and there to ask her out at the next ball. His friends try to discourage him. Zeke decides to take dancing lessons.

At the next ball, he makes his move. Norah is surprised and a little reluctant but she eventually agrees. It gives her a chance to confront him:

“Why don’t you dance with anyone else?”
“I’m not interested in anyone else. …And also I can’t dance.”
“You’re doing fine, now.”
“I, uh, I took lessons, actually. I didn’t want to step on your toes.”

He’s clearly embarrassed and seems to be telling the truth, and Norah decides to give him a chance.

The next few weeks are a whirlwind for them both. Norah is always pulling him along, showing him new and colorful things and opening up his world. Later, when they were older, he’d admit, “I used to think I’d seen it all. Then I met your mother, and the floor opened up beneath me and dropped me into a whole new world.”

For Norah, Zeke became a foundation. He was a steady rock, a ground for her wild electric heart. Being a traveling performer is never easy, but Zeke was her confidence, her reassurance, her biggest fan. He encouraged her at every step and held her hand during the hardest times. “He was and always will be my heart’s defender.”

They were married hardly a year later, with everyone’s blessing. Zeke continued to serve, a career military man well into his later years. Norah followed her dreams and joined a dance troupe; she performed well into her 30s (even after three boys!) and only quit after an injury forced her hand. After that, she began teaching out of a little rented building in Levant. This was the start of the Levantine School for the Arts which she still runs to this day.

The Hawkes have seen their share of hardship and celebrated nearly 30 years of triumphs, but their greatest joy has been to do so together.

family

Eden Tellain descended the stairs with a wary, careful stride. To her surprise, Eden had no need of a torch; though there were no windows (the staircase being hidden inside the heart of the castle), orbs of bright light cast a faint orange glow from their positions along the wall. Magic, but a spell she did not recognize. So long as she had their light, she didn’t much care how they worked. Despite her draconic heritage, magic was still something she struggled with.

The castle of Vayen was large and held many secrets, and she had found this place completely by happenstance. She had dropped her quill beneath the throne that day, and while she scrabbled after it on hands and knees Eden had discovered a curious knot on carved on the underside of one leg. It had taken some prodding (and no small amount of sneaking about, just to get away from her usual entourage of guards and attendants), but finally, finally her determination had paid off—for the knot, she discovered, was a small button, and that button opened a panel in the floor behind the throne; and that, in turn, had led her here.

She ought to have told someone where she was going in case this turned out to be some sort of trap, or she found herself lost in a labyrinth that no one living remembered. Or brought someone with her, since it wasn’t likely that Ilia or Fohley would stay behind willingly when there were adventures to be had. But it thrilled her to know something no one else knew, and even during a growing war she reveled in the diversion. This was a secret she wanted to herself.

She descended two floors, perhaps three, before the stairs came to an end. They leveled out at a short stone-walled hall, which in turn ended at a pair of large doors. The doors were tall, pieced from hardwood planks and carved in simple scrollwork, the painted over in rich, velvety black. Metal bands, likely steeled reinforced both top and bottom; a large chain, nearly as thick as Eden’s wrist, wound through the handles, looping round and secured by an equally-large padlock.

Eden eyed the doors with apprehension. Great things lay beyond doors like that. The true question was whether it was a good sort of great, like a hidden shrine or ancient treasure, or if whatever was locked behind those doors was the great and terrible sort.

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She’d been here before.

All around her was dark, a blackness so absolute it weighed her down, limbs heavy and heart feeling crushed beneath her own lungs. Kalysta knew this darkness, was familiar with it like her own skin, because it was her. This was a place of her own making.

But familiarity did not make it any less frightening. Instead, knowing made it worse. She knew what happened here, what she would have to face before it was over. Knew it wasn’t real.

Not true—the pain was real. The dagger this place would drive into her soul cut like any blade the waking would could conceive. Still, she would try to be brave. Maybe this time she could endure it. Maybe this time wouldn’t be so bad.

The faces began to appear before her, and Kalysta steeled herself with a deep breath. She wouldn’t let the win. Not this time.

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“Kent, can I kiss you?”

Kent almost didn’t hear the question. He blinked, late-night movie forgotten, and sat up a little straighter; Sain, leaning sleepily against his shoulder, grunted in quiet complaint, but otherwise he didn’t stir. His cheek was smashed against the curve of Kent’s arm, but he didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t look at Kent, either, although the redhead wasn’t sure if that was on purpose or if he really was half-asleep.

“What?”

“Can I kiss you?” Sain’s voice was louder now, steadier, confident. This time, he did look at Kent, sitting up and leaning back on the couch just enough to give his roommate space to breathe. He looked… sad, which wasn’t like Sain at all—nor was the way he dropped his eyes, letting his voice fall again. “Just… Just once,” he said, and Kent thought his heart might break at the sound. Shit. He was serious.

“Sain—”

“I know you don’t—that you’re not—you don’t like me like I like you,” he managed, “but I—I just thought—” Sain stopped. Scowled. “I’m not drunk enough for this. I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.”

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The Mad Prince

Elanor heard the footsteps approaching and nearly leapt from her vanity, her heart in her throat. It had been six hours—six! Her uncle had never kept him this long. Something must have happened, something dreadful, something—She couldn’t finish the thought. Instead she waited, ten paces from the double doors, hands clasped in plain sight and eyes on the floor. It was the same way she always waited when Symon was called on to make a public appearance. This time, she couldn’t keep her hands from trembling. When that door opened, what state would her brother be in? Would he be there at all?

Stop that, Elanor, she hissed. Symon is fine. You are fine. You still have time. You’re not dead ye—

“Away from the door, princess,” barked a voice, and Elanor bit back a smart reply. Haughtiness and sarcasm might be satisfying, but they’d earn her nothing but trouble. And she desperately needed to see her brother.

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Writing Meme!

fictorium:

Pick any passage of 500 words or less from any fanfic I’ve written, and stick that selection in my ask/fan mail. I will then give you the equivalent of a DVD commentary on that snippet: what I was thinking when I wrote it, why I wrote it in the first place, what’s going on in the character’s heads, why I chose certain words, what this moment means in the context of the rest of the fic, lots of awful puns, and anything else that you’d expect to find on a DVD commentary track.

worth it. - imagymnasia - Pyre (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own] »https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F12065325&t=MjAzODA2MDIwNzJhMDQzNTRiNWU0ZGM3NWE0ZTNkNmFiNzNmMWYzOCxteUdheVFvYw%3D%3D&b=t%3ArfFIMluhSShWI_Kw-9LwAQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fntebook.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F165249049260&m=1

imagymnasia:

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Pyre (Video Game)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Hedwyn/Fikani Shang (Pyre)
Characters: Hedwyn (Pyre), Fikani (Pyre), Jodariel (Pyre), background Rukey Mae Ti'zo Reader
Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Partial Liberation, there is a lot of angst, but also a lot of fluff, also jodi and rukey picking on hedwyn will never ever get old ever, best buff mom
Summary:
The Rites are ended, and the remaining Nightwings wait for news from above. When it arrives, no one expects it– or the messenger herself.

rude. - imagymnasia - Pyre (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own] »https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F11897196&t=ZTJhM2JhYzRkN2U3NzQyMjgxNTNiMWExOGY3ODEyOWVkMWI3NjRiNSxBRnNLanUxcA%3D%3D&b=t%3ArfFIMluhSShWI_Kw-9LwAQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fntebook.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F165095887210&m=1

imagymnasia:

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Pyre (Video Game)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Sandra/The Reader (Pyre)
Characters: The Reader (Pyre), Sandra (Pyre)
Additional Tags: Female Reader, I guess technically it never says, but it is, awkward reader and sassy wrife, Would you smooch a ghost?
Summary:
Touch isn’t the same in the crystal, but somehow you make it work.

“firepower”

It only took one blast to break through the tower’s defenses. Brick and mortar exploded in a flash of light and fire, and the building toppled inward. The great stone spire had fallen in one breath of dragonflame, and with it rose the morale of her army.

“selective”

She eyed the rows of produce with an almost-wary eye, her cart clattering on the uneven tiles. She preferred shopping in the wee hours of the morning, when most people were asleep and the college kids were home partying. It was quiet. Just her, the cart, and the food. She could take her time. Be picky. Savor the moment.