#New life in the Outer ring is such a hopeful thing

[astrxlfinale]

"Y'know, Lighter — It'd be nice if we could grow some flowers here." The comment leaves Caesar's lips with little thought as she stares hard at a patch of succulents. One stretches a flower stalk up into the air, poised to bloom come nightfall. It'll be wilted the next morning.

"The delicate kinds, with soft petals and thin leaves. I mean — Lucy seems to like 'em, is all." A flimsy excuse for the cause of her thought (the beautiful bouquet bestowed upon the female lead in the latest chapter of her manga; Caesar's heart had fluttered then, and she couldn't help but wonder what it might be like to receive one, too), but not one without its merit either. Still, she focuses rather hard on the succulents, feeling suddenly shy about meeting Lighter's shades gaze. "It's a shame greenhouses are too costly to maintain in the Outer Ring..."

Somehow, the idea feels novel in a place where desolation typically reigns. Lands dried merely due to the unnatural changes to climate, where the sun can shine relentlessly and only the most forged of souls could scrape an earnest living. Caesar's thought hits a softer chord in the depths of his chest. It conjures inspiration to let a new image bloom in his mind. The sort where she's donning a proud, nigh emotional smile at the sight of fluorescent and glowing petals surrounding her figure.

It certainly didn't change the attire of The Boss in his mind. Who said that dark clothing and golden spikes couldn't dance upon a garden like that?

"Just Lucy?" Instead of letting this keep protected in the annals of her thoughts, part of her Champion wanted to make that reach, to help carry this very bloom that holds no different than the very flower she speaks of. Whereas many would see sensitivity, weakness, a hardened soul such as Lighter knew about the true strength that finds itself blooming from the depths of fragility. A life like his and Caesar's found themselves so delicately fleeting, no short thanks to their community, their very own ground and 'water' in order to nurture their roots.

She'd soon come to find a gloved hand settled upon her shoulder. Even through his shades, there's a deeper trench of contemplation being met. That idealized image of seeing Caesar thriving in her own private garden felt like one more golden cause to fight for. "How about we start small?" Impulse led those words to flow free. Briefly catching himself, it'd soon meld together into a form of deeper certainty. "Orchidea in Lumina Square is no stranger to blooms that enjoy a bit more heat, and not just our local cactuses either."

Offering a supportive squeeze, a tinge of a surefire smile settles as he cants his head towards her.

Even if she looked away. There was no way her heart wasn't curiously peeking towards him. Oddly enough, it could be felt within her song.

"I'm a leading example of new beginnings, no? These plants can be something we can build up slowly, learning each little detail as it comes to us." To let this ravenous soil learn to be calm, gentle and supportive, it felt no different than his own ambitious hands learning the gold known as values.

"Who knows. A small pot of lilacs might find it cozy enough to move down here if we get good at it."

@everlastiingiimmortals

[describingcolours]

"well youve had it 6 years that's a good amount of time for that kind of thing to work"

"you should be grateful you got 3 years of use out of that thing, I'm lucky if mine last a year haha"

listen, in 1977 nasa launched the voyager spacecrafts to take advantage of a planetary alignment that takes place every 175 years. These 2 crafts were planned to flyby the outer planets of our solar system and gather data on them to send back to us. Voyager 2 launched first on the 20th of August despite its name because it was planned to reach our gas giants after its counterpart voyager 1, which launched a little later on the 5th of September.

The voyager mission was planned to end 12 years later in 1989. In that time, voyager 1 and 2 passed by Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune. They discovered new moons, confirmed theories about Saturn's rings, found the first active volcanoes found outside the earth, and they take close-up images of planets only seen at that point from telescopes.

On the 25th of August 1989, voyager 2 encounters Neptune, the last planet in our solar system the voyagers will meet. And that was that. End of mission. Now obsolete.

~

Less than 1 year later on valentine's day in 1990 voyager 1 looked back on the planet that had built it and sent with it a world's worth of hopes and dreams and took a picture. We called it the solar system family portrait and in it, we see ourselves. The pale blue dot nestled in the darkness of space

And then commands were sent to shut down their cameras. Preserve fuel.

35 years after launch, in 2012 voyager 1 sent back to us data about interstellar space. The very first manmade object to enter it.

41 years after launch voyager 2 did the same. Still operational, still going. Still sending back to us invaluable data, teaching us about our own solar system and the suns influence in our local bubble of space.

They are expected to continue to operate until the year 2025 - almost 50 whole years after they were launched and 36 years after their mission was supposed to have ended.

48 years of harsh space travel, battered by solar winds, pulled by gravity but fast enough just to escape, pelted by who knows how much space dust and radiation.

And even after that, they still have a purpose. Each craft was given a golden record. A disc filled with human knowledge and knowledge of humans and the planet they live on. Greetings and well-wishes to any prospective extraterrestrial life that could potentially pick it up. Co-ordinates, an invite. Samples of our music, the things we love, sounds of the earth, a story of our world. The surf, the wind, birds and whales, images of a mother, our moon, a sunset. Long after the voyager spacecrafts go dark, probably long after we are gone, they will still be doing their job; educating a species about our very tiny corner of the galaxy.

They are nasa's longest-running operation.

And it was all done using 70s technology.

So excuse me if I want a phone that lasts more than 2 years or a vacuum cleaner that doesn't break down after 6, or god fucking forbid, a refrigerator that will keep my food cold my entire fucking lifetime.

[starkeyisthelastname]

Rafe roughly fingering virgin!reader 😊

(I see this as Rafe season 3 episode 7 at the party. So imagine you were Sofia in that moment 💦)

He would invite you over to a party at Tannyhill now that he ran the house. You’d be shy as you walked through the crowd of unfamiliar people until you saw him talking to a shorter man with the same buzzcut. You didn’t want to interrupt the conversation, getting ready to turn away when you heard his voice call you.

“Hey. You made it.” His voice soft as he got up from where he was sitting. You noticed the smirk on his friend’s face, making you blush at the sudden attention you were getting. Especially since you were only in a small bikini, the thin coverup not doing much to hide anything.

He towered over you in height as he stepped closer. His cologne making you weak in the knees as he wrapped his arm around your lower back. He took his Ray-Bans off with his free hand, those stunning ocean eyes now staring down at you. “You want something to drink?” He asked, his manners and hospitality being a plus.

The music bumped throughout the mansion as Rafe held your hand, leading you to the kitchen. You were new to the Outer Banks, not knowing how popular the last name Cameron really was. Everyone there greeted him as if he was royalty, making you feel special that you could be wrapped on his arm.

“Only very important people are aloud up here.” Rafe told you as he led you through the upstairs balcony away from everyone else. The way he said that made your heart race, the heat going straight to your virgin core.

Your tongues lazily moved together as you both sat against the couch, his hands traveling further down to your aching sex. You weren’t sure if it was the poorly mixed drink or he really just had this much of an effect on you, but you found yourself shyly spreading your legs. The dark chuckle against your lips as he pulled back made you let out a kitten like whimper.

“You want me to play with your pussy, pretty girl?” His voice about the sexiest thing you ever heard.

You found yourself nodding, finding it hard to form the words to tell him that you were still a virgin. It wasn’t exactly something you blurted out on the regular. You just really hoped it wouldn’t turn Rafe away, he definitely knew what he was doing. “I- I’ve never been touched down there before.” You whispered softly.

His hand stopped for a moment, an amused laugh coming out as he smirked against your cheek. “Shit…” His voice drawing out into a low groan. His hand pulled your bikini bottoms to the side roughly, holding the material back as he smacked your cunt hard. You let out a squeak, not expecting that same hand to shove two fingers down your throat without warning. Gagging at the intrusion, his left arm pulled you onto his lap.

“Get those fingers wet, slut.” Rafe’s low tone in your ear.

You whimpered around them, sucking them into your mouth like your life depended on it. You wanted to be such a good girl for him, doing quite literally anything as long as he was the one it could be with. His fingers abruptly pulled out, shoving themselves into your virgin hole. You let out a gasp, your toes curling at the roughness.

“Rafe- too much.” You squeal out, his digits thick as he thrusted them in.

His ring and middle finger pushed through your tight hole, his knuckle hitting your cunt at a brutal pace when he slid them back in. “Hey, you wanna know something? My dick is huge.” He said, his left hand now coming up to grip your throat. “This is nothing compared what I’m about to do to this virgin cunt.” He spat, the gentleman now gone.

You cried out, pussy clenching around his fingers as he fucked them into you at a brutal pace. His hand was pressing against your throat, your brain fuzzy as the oxygen was being taken from you. Your poor body was betraying you, squeezing his digits as your pathetic pussy began to squirt everywhere.

“There she is. Make that pretty pussy cry for me.” He groaned into your ear, fingers slapping your sopping hole to make more gush out.

[hjnxx]

hijinxx  is  a  study  in  overcoming.  of  seeing  the  flaws  within  yourself  and  loving  yourself  regardless  of  them.  it  really  is  your  average   girl  crush  concept  –  a  tirade  of  anthems  proclaiming  self  love,  pride,  and  being  a  baddie  with  your  baddie  friends  in  a  world  that  preys  on  every  facet  of  yourself.  but … is  that  all  there  is ?

taken from the word hijinks, meaning pure and unadulterated fun—of boisterous antics and often partaking in mischief—the group’s name takes a stylistic approach to its meaning. taking the word jinx, which can either be taken as something that brings a person bad luck or when two people say the same word at the time, hijinxx is a meeting between two selves.

hijinxx  is  a  study  in  the  human  girl.  each  girl  represents  a  part  of  the  inner  and  outer  self  —  mind,  body,  heart,  and  soul.  lost  due  to  an  imbalance  in  the  outer  realm,  corrupted  by  self negligence  and  outter hostility,  the  once  separated  entities  have  finally  come  together  in  order  to  reach  a  new  level  of wholeness  and  self  discovery.  

the  mind,  representative  of  rationale  and  thought,  is  rigid  and  often  overprotective  to  a  fault.  she  fully  believes  she  is  always  right,  seeing  the  other  selves  as  ruled  by  emotion.  mind  is  always  prim,  never  wavering.  a  pillar  for  the  other  selves  to  lean  on.  but  she  often  does  not  allow  change  to  come  forth.  she  relaxes  in  routine,  comforted  by  tradition.  when  unexpected slights to her reality ,  she  flounders,  often  unsure  on  what  to  do.  heart  eases  her  worries,  soul  provides  inner  peace,  body  suggests  rest.  one  can  not  exist  without  the  other  three.

ahyeon  is  the  representative  of  the  mind,  as  the  oldest  member  of  the  group.  despite  not  being  the  leader,  she  is  always  the  voice  of  reason  and  is  the  first  person  to  go  to  with  a  problem  looking  to  be  solved.  she  prides  herself  in  her  experience  and  expendability—but  when  happens when  she  can  no  longer  bear  the  brunt  of  the  weight?  what  happens  when  the  pillar  starts  to  show  cracks?

the  body  is  the  vessel.  the  outer  presence  of  the  human  girl,  she  is  the  first  thing  outsiders  see.  overexertion  is  her  biggest  flaw.  she   constantly  moves  to  prove  herself.  muscles  aching,  head  ringing,  driven  to  collapse—it  doesn’t  matter.  she  needs  to  be  presentable  to  evade  the  harsh  realities  of  the  outer realm.  but  are  any  of  the  pressures  even  real?  are  they  tangible?  why  do  they  weigh  her  already  weak  form  down?  her  form  of  flesh  and  blood?  do  they  not  know  she  is  still  fragile  despite  her  front?  mind  offers  a  plan.  heart  soothes  her  aches  and  pains.  soul  begs  to  be  held.  one  cannot  exist  without  the  other  three.

micha  represents  the  body.  as  leader  and  the  face  of  the  group—she  is  the  first  person  people  come  to  when  it  entails  hijinxx  as  a  whole.  she’s  the  embodiment  of  perfectionism;  of  tireless  training  and  an  unwavering  work  ethic.  but  what  happens  when  the  body  is  pushed  too  far?  when  pain  and  weathering  the  storm  comes  to  be  more  than  you  can  handle--and  your  physical  form  can  only  take  so  much,  despite  your  endless  drive?  the  hiatus  was  hard  on  her.  the  injury  was  dumb,  but  she  needed  to  prove  she  was  above  human  nature.

the  heart  is  life.  blood  rushing  in  your  ears  and  through  your  veins,  the  most  feeling  of  the  four.  emotions  rule  the  heart.  passion,  empathy,  love.  out  of  the  four  selves  the  heart  is  the  most  gullible.  sweet,  hope-filled  heart.  the  world  is  too  harsh  for  your  naivety.  you’re  too  trusting,  almost  dumb.  tripping  over  yourself  to  please  those  who  don’t  care  about  you  all  in  the  name  of  wanting  to  fit  in.  what  happens  when  they  don’t  accept  you?  what  was  all  your  hard  work  for,  then?  they  stab  your  tender  flesh  over  and  over  again.  you  let  them  because  you  want  them  to  stay.  why?  why  do  you  care  so  much?  mind  puts  up  a  front  as  soul  comforts  her  sister,  and  body  is  the  brute  shield.  one  cannot  exist  without  the  other three.

eunji  represents  the  heart.  as  the  group’s  maknae,  it’s  no  secret  that  she  is  openly  loved  and  protected  by  the  other  three  girls.  as  the  group’s  main  vocalist,  the  power  in  her  voice  is  nothing  short  of  emotional.  she  pours  her  entire  heart  into  singing  because  it’s  the  only  thing  she  has  that  hasn’t  been  tainted  by  her.  but  as  an  emotion-driven  person,  her  biggest  flaw  is  wearing  her  beating  organ  on  her  sleeve.  too  often  is  she  exposed  to  the  vultures,  tearing  at  her  life source over and over again.  the  hjx  girls  can  only  protect  her  so  much.

and  last  but  not  least—the  soul.  holder  of  the  biggest  aura,  she  is  the  energy.  she  is  the  second  half  of  the  source  life  for  the  four,  but  while  heart  is  emotion,  soul  is  motivation.  your  are  the  inner  most  important  part  of  the  group,  central  to  its  humanity.  you  are  the  most  difficult  to  pin  down,  slipping  through  fingers  like  running  water.  mind  stares  at  you  curiously.  you  and  heart  are  two  sides  of  the  same  coin.  body  rests  on  your  shoulders,  content with the bond you provide.  one  cannot  exist  without  the  other  three.

yuina  represents  the  soul.  nicknamed  hijinxx’s  energy  pill  and  dance  machine,  she  is  what  feeds  hijinxx’s  spirit.  you  can’t  help  but  to  notice  her  when  she  walks  into  the  room–commanding  attention  for  her  aura.  but  doesn’t  it  get  so  tiring  being  the  one  who  is  expected  to  keep  smiling?  has  anyone  noticed  your  overcompensation  or–or  has  it  just  been  you  this  whole  time?  your  mask  can  only  hold  up  for  so  long.  you  can  only  maintain  this  front  for  so  long.

a  symphony  erupts  each  time  the  entities  come  together.  bursts  of  color,  light,  sound.  of  mistakes  and  the  arms  that  move  to  hold  you  despite  them.  hijinxx  is  a  study  in  your  humanity  as  well  as  mine. 

[falling-star-cygnus]

I was an anon on some of your asks, the ones about Billy's past concerning his relationship with the Sons of Calydon and how the Cunning Hares might react to it, and I want to say that I love the amnesic Billy fic you made and I hope you keep making more fics because you're good at writing Billy!

Also, I just wanted to ask you if you can make a fic about Billy having an awkward or heartwarming reunion or homecoming with the Sons of Calydon and the people of the Outer Ring because ZZZ 1.2 is coming out soon. There have been leaks of characters and the new map area, and the new video about the Outer Ring was awesome, so the idea of Billy telling the Cunning Hare girls about his previous life and reconnecting with the people he once knew would be so nice to write.

I’M SO SORRY, THIS IS SO LATE -> and thank you so much for your kind words!

as of late, i've decided to close my inbox to focus on the requests I've already received :3 when those have been completed it'll be reopened, should y'all still be a fan <3

please forgive my tardiness, i do hope you've liked the Sons of Calydon content i've made thus far :{

So... sleepy..

Piper leans against the railing of the warm roof, lazily watching all the people go about their lives. It was such a nice sunny day.. perfect for a.. little... nap.

Or it would be.

Were she not being PELTED with ROCKS-

Itty bitty ones, Lucy's boars weren't mean, but the click-click-clack of pebbles against her forehead was annoying! Cruel, even, as it prevented the blonde from taking full advantage of the afternoon sun.

Ah.. but Caesar wanted her to keep a look out.

Meh.

Cracking open her mossy greens took more effort than Piper was willing to expend for such a menial task, buuut she powered through. Quite bravely, might she add. The two boars- one stacked atop the other- snuffled approvingly and finally, finally stopped their onslaught.

...huh?

Piper recounted.

Huh?

Two boars? Surely, that wasn't right.

One, two-

...

Piper rubbed her eyes.

One piggy, two piggy, three.... ee?

"Yowch! I'm awake, I'm awake!" the small girl whines, futilely raising her arms to block the next barrage of pebbles.

Counting sheep, pigs, what's the difference?

One more quick survey of the roof shows Piper that- yep, her eyes were not fogged with sleep... only two little boars were up here.

...oh no.

"LUCY'S GONNA KILL MEEEEEHEEHE!"

-><-...-><-

Piper now faces a new dilemma.

She can't leave the roof, Caesar explicitly told her to keep an eye on the people of Sixth Street. Or- well, she can't leave this area. She could probably leave the roof. Hm.

But if Caesar never finds out she left the area...

The two boars look at each other curiously, and then shrug as the blonde biker leans over the railing. If Piper can just spot a glimpse of red leather, she can grab it and get back to watching before the other two even suspect a thing.

Well.

She spots red leather alright.

About four shades too bright.

Is that...?

"Billy?"

The android stops humming, his endearingly goofy jaunt down the street coming to a confused halt. He'd gotten more expressive since he left the Sons..

Piper's hands twitch on the railing.

"If I run and jump at Billy, he will most certainly catch me in his arms," Burnice had said one day, before taking off running towards their android.

"Wait- Burnice, I'm holding Lucy!"

In the end, he didn't drop either of them. Lucy had been hastily moved to sit on his right bicep and the resident pyromaniac had koala-ed onto his side.

The verbal beatdown Lucy had given her was brutal, but it almost didn't matter when the three dissolved into laughs and cheers. All Piper could remember in her sleepy haze was...

..wanting to join them.

Billy left the Sons a few days after that- all without a word to the two youngest members.

Two yellow glass eyes meet mossy green irises.

The sleepy girl jumps.

"PIPER!?"

The android's arms are surprisingly comfy to land in- probably due to the spin he threw the two into to minimize impact- and it feels a little like tucking herself into bed.

Distantly, she can hear Billy squawking about 'giving him a warning first' and 'what if he hadn't caught her' and other junk. Like Billy would have ever let her 'splat against the pavement.' He was wayyy too protective for that.

She should've done this sooner... Piper already knew the android was comfy to lean on after so many nights curled into his side, but- eh... too much effort.

"Piper-?"

"Androids that disappear overnight don't get to say shit."

And oh. She was crying. When.. did that happen? It was like a dam broke somewhere in her chest- so much time had passed of resentment growing so silently that she hadn't even noticed it burned until she was face to face with the lighter.

Mechanic hands jolt from where they're holding under her legs and shoulders. Piper buries her face into his shoulder with a hiccup.

"Why didn't you tell us? Me and Lucy. Why did you just leave?"

It's a long second before Billy answers.

Uncharacteristically long, enough so that Piper wonders- through a blur of tears she can't stop- if he's going to respond at all or just keep rocking the sleepy girl like she's some child.

"...I'm sorry," the android settles on eventually, "I knew that if I saw you two again, I wouldn't be able to leave. That- wasn't fair of me. To just disappear on you."

It wasn't, and Piper hates that answer because it's true. She knows that if she somehow knew Billy Kid was going to leave that she'd ask him to stay and she knows he would have. And...

She's heard how happy he is with the Cunning Hares. From Caesar and Lighter and news headlines and the Phaethon siblings. Its.. not fair to take that from him either.

"You're the worst," she sniffs, clinging on to his shoulders, "I'm telling Burnice about the time you broke her flamethrower."

"What!? We agreed to blame that on Lucy's pigs!"

Piper stiffens immediately. Lucy's boars. Oh no.

"Piper?"

"I TOTALLY FORGOT I LOST ONE OF THEM!"

"YOU WHAT!?"

[Lucy sneezes somewhere on Sixth Street, and her loyal boar hands her a tissue]

[a-aexotic]

hi!! can you do something with jj and this is me trying it right where you left me? love your work 💌

ren's notes hey baby, tysm! this fic broke my heart ong LMGAO, i hope u enjoy!!! 💞

pairing. jj maybank x fem!reader requested? yes no

warnings. mention of concussion, death, breaking up, just general angst 😭

summary. you fell in love with jj as soon as you caught his gaze, what happens when tragedy strikes and breaks you apart?

taglist. @eli-yeah @hallecarey1

➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫

When you first locked eyes with JJ Maybank, you knew he was your soulmate.

You remember the day you met him to this day, like it was just yesterday. You remember it was late August and you moved to OBX after your father had retired. He always wanted to live on the coastline and it was his dream to live there with his family. You weren’t rich by any means, so you got a small house on the Cut. 

You didn’t care about the size, as long as you were happy. You had just turned 15 and you had no friends in OBX. The late summer breeze was running through your air as you walked on the beach, no particular thoughts in your head. It was relaxing; all the stress from the past few months melted away under the strong Outer Banks sun. 

You remember walking on the beach and then hearing a loud shout. You whipped your head at the noise and suddenly, you were on the floor with a headache. You were hit with a football and your head hurt. You were dizzy and all you could hear was ringing and then you felt someone shake you awake. 

Your eyes opened and you locked eyes with a certain blonde whilst his friends was talking to you. 

And that was how you met JJ Maybank, he had gave you a concussion. Little did neither of you know, it was the start of your love story. 

He apologized profusely, offering to pay for your medical bill but you were fine. You’d gotten plenty of concussions before so it wasn’t anything new. After, JJ invited you on their boat as an apology and you accepted. That’s how you made your first friend in Outer Banks. 

The Pogues soon became your second family. There was never a second where you weren’t with any of them; Pope, John B or JJ (and soon, Kie) were always by your side. 

JJ was a different kind of family, though. Sure, John B was like an older brother and Pope gave good advice and Kie was your homework buddy, but JJ was different. He made you feel someway you had never felt before. He made you laugh until your stomach hurt and he comforted you when you cried over the stupidest things. 

His touch was soft and his gaze was even softer and more admiring as he looked at you. Only a fool wouldn’t see that he loved you. 

It was too much, too soon; he kissed you first and it only exceeded the more he spend time with you. Love at first sight only worked on screen and in books, it never worked in real life. Disaster soon struck. 

JJ loved you so much, he felt like he couldn’t breathe when he wasn’t with you. You were the first girl to see him as more than just a hook-up or a Pogue. You saw him as a soulmate, and you too. Nights spent in your arms made him feel like heaven was right here, with you. 

It was all pure ecstasy until your father had died. You became distant and you were overwhelmed with grief and it felt like there was no future without him. JJ couldn’t bare to leave you all alone but that was what you needed. After months of depression, your mother decided it was best to go back to your hometown. You had no choice but to leave JJ. 

You and JJ tried to make it long distance work but it was hard and eventually, you had given up. 

JJ was heartbroken but you were destroyed. The only thing keeping you alive was miles apart form you. It was a mutual breakup but you were the one to initiate it. 

JJ couldn’t believe you’d pulled the plug on them and he was angry for months until he realized maybe it was for the best. All first loves weren’t built to last but JJ was optimistic about you two; he could see a future with you. A good one, too: a nice house, little kids and a happy atmosphere. For once he didn’t see himself turn out like a deadbeat, living alone in his father’s house while all the Pogues had moved on. 

That was his future; he couldn’t run from it. Everyone had always seen how much better you were than him, you had a bright future and he was destined to stay in Outer Banks so of course it wouldn’t work. 

Years passed and JJ stayed heartbroken. Sure, he could hook up and date but he was never committed. It was strictly physical. 

You had moved on, JJ kept tabs on you on Instagram. You were happy, that’s all that mattered to JJ. 

JJ was okay with staying in Outer Banks for the rest of his life as long as you are happy. 

[traveler-at-heart]

❤️‍🩹 with Natasha, please

Thank you for the prompt!

Together

A/N: Takes place during Endgame.

Content warning: some violence, Thanos getting beaten up (not sorry about this hehe)

It should have worked.

Clint got a call from Laura.

Just before everything blew up.

You didn’t have your phone with you while you were fighting and if it did work, (God, please, I’ve never asked for anything ever, so just this once), you’d have woken up in the middle of a Wakandan field.

And then Thanos showed up and everything became a mess again. 

Were they about to lose again? Was Rhodey’s sacrifice about to be for nothing?

But Natasha pushed through, and fought against every one of the soldiers from the alien army, vaguely aware that Sam, Barnes and others were finally arriving to provide backup.

But where were you?

A second too late, she realized a spear was thrown her way.

Will I see you again before I die?

“Don’t mess with my girl” you jumped right in front of her, sending the spear back to the alien. It went through him with a clean motion and you manipulated the metal to hurt as many of them as possible. Wanda jumped in front of you, fighting anyone approaching. 

You only had a minute to talk to the love of your life.

“Y/N” Natasha whispered behind you.

“Hi, baby” you finally sighed, happy to see her. The last time her hair was blonde and short. And now, it was long, back to red, save for the tips. Your eyes filled with tears. “How long has it been?”

“Five years” 

You sobbed against her and began to apologize.

“I’m sorry for not fighting harder, I’m sorry for leaving you. I’m sorry, Nat”

“I should have done more. I should have brought you back sooner. I lost hope and did nothing”

“No, stop it” you pressed your lips against hers. “I’m here now, ok? It’s gonna be over soon. And then, you’ll finally tell me your answer”

“You still remember?” she chuckled against your lips.

“I could never forget” you kissed her one last time, before walking to Wanda and standing beside her, your eyes glowing with power.

--

“Hey” you walked up to your girlfriend. She was holding her phone against her ear, ignoring Barnes, Sam and Steve as they planned their next move. Wanda was still taking care of Vision.

You hated the idea of going back to the US, to the government that had chased you and forced you to go into hiding for two years. 

But the situation was critical and you needed to alert everyone. 

“She’s not picking up” Natasha sighed.

“Yel?” 

“I just want to make sure she’s safe. We don’t know what we’re up against here”

“I’m sure she’ll be alright, Nat”

“If something happened to me…” 

“Don’t”

“Promise me you’ll take care of her” 

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you. You can’t leave me. There’s so much left to do”

Natasha rolled her eyes.

“Like what?”

“Well, I still have to teach you how to make a pinata. We have to go to a concert together. A night in Las Vegas where we lose all of our money”

“I hate losing” 

“We also have yet to… have sex on the console of the Quinjet” you whispered against her lips. Natasha laughed in spite of herself.

You took her hand and led her somewhere far away from the rest of the team.

“Sit here, darling” you asked, and knelt in front of her. “I’d also very much like to find a new house where we can live. Pick a date to get married… maybe adopt a dog? Those are all things we still need to do, Natasha”

You placed the ring in her open palm.

“I know this is like the worst timing, and you have a lot on your mind right now. But you should know that I want you for the rest of my life, however short or long it is”

“I…”

“It’s ok. Don’t say anything now. That way I’ll have something to look forward when we beat those nasty aliens”

--

“Nice of you to join us” Tony said, circling the battlefield.

“Shut it or I will throw you into outer space” 

“Been there, not a fan” 

You made a mental note to ask him about it later. Sounds like quite the story.

While Wanda was busy stripping Thanos' armor and throwing his giant sword, you raised your hands, aiming at the ship that was preparing to shoot everyone. 

“I’m moving the canyons but can’t keep it for long” you said through gritted teeth.

It was crushed an instant later by a blinding light. For the first time, Thanos looked worried. 

“Danvers?” Thor looked up, and you did the same.

“Who is that?”

“This is backup” she announced, flying straight to Thanos’ head. The kick sent him to the ground, dirt flying everywhere.

“Tony, Steve, Banner, help Peter protect the stones” you commanded, feeling ready to end this entire nightmare. “Wanda, Thor and I will deal with Thanos”

“Wanda, keep him down” you asked, using your power to control the pieces of armor left in his body. You managed to manipulate their shape and stab him with them. His screams of pain gave you a great deal of pleasure.

“Thor, you better go for the head this time” 

The god jumped up, ready to swing his ax. Thanos put an arm up, partially blocking the attack.

“Wanda, Space Girl, make sure he doesn’t get up. I’m pulling away”

“Where are you going?” 

Your power was stronger when you were closer to the object you wanted to control, and judging by the effort Thor was making, he was gonna need all the help he could get. 

“Come on” you stood next to the sword, lifting it up and ran next to it. With a swing of your hands, it flew across the battlefield. You pushed through Thanos’ neck, while Thor did the same at the back of his head.

Wanda stood next to you, pushing on your side while her other hand held him down. Carol flew next to Thor and pushed.

Steve came running, holding Mjolnir and giving the final push to separate the head from the rest of his body. 

“Banner” Tony warned a second later. Natasha, Peter and T’Challa were protecting him as he wore the infinity glove and snapped his fingers.

--

Dust. Everything was dust.

You were floating away, frantically looking for Natasha.

All you wanted was to make sure she was ok.

But before you could call for her, the wind took you away.

--

There was dust all around you, but this time your hands were steady. Your breath was uneven, but your heartbeat was the reminder that you were still alive.

“Y/N!” Natasha called as soon as she realized it was over. You kneeled, exhausted. “Are you hurt?”

“Just tired. It’s been a while since I’ve done this. God, I’ve missed you” 

You hugged her, hands going to her neck as she held you by the waist.

“Want some pizza?” she said, knowing how hungry you got after a good fight.

“I was thinking Chinese from that place we like” you suggested against her neck.

“Yeah, that doesn’t exist anymore”

“Fucking Thanos, fuck him a thousand times” you broke apart, wiping your tears. Natasha giggled, leaning forward. Your eyes immediately looked down at her cleavage. “Missed you too, girls”

“You had to ruin the moment” she complained, pulling you up.

“Wait, what is this?” you pointed at a necklace she was wearing, a ring hanging from it. “Is that…?”

“The ring you gave me. I’ve worn it every day for the past five years, wishing I had said yes the moment you asked”

“Well, in that case, and even if my knees are killing me right now, will you let me?”

The redhead nodded, handing you the ring back. Aware that the rest of the team was now watching you, you kneeled in front of the love of your life.

“Natalia Alianovna Romanova, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“Yes. A thousand times yes” she let a tear roll down her cheek as you secured the ring on her finger.

You stood up, kissing her passionately.

“Save it for the wedding night” Tony grumbled.

“I have five years to make up for, Stark” you smiled against Natasha’s lips. “And a lifetime ahead of us”

[khajiit-reads]

I would like a G-Witch reading please!

Alyssa, she/her, femme.

Thank you. ❤️

Well met, internet traveler!

Your wish number is 39. That means your wish likely won't come true.

Repeating for the sake of clarity in case you return to this spread at a later date and no longer remember in the future: The inner circle represents your destiny, and the outer circle the forces affecting you and it.

Let's begin with the inner ring. ⛤ Coffin above Bouquet and beside Lilies. Coffin is thankfully in a distant position, so we can take it to mean averting evil, but Lilies has two cloud cards nearby, which can indicate family sorrow. Bouquet however means positivity and joy - So ultimately, while there might be sorrow in the family (blood or found), you can avoid the evil and find positivity and joy. ⛤ Lilies beside Coffin and Moon. Moon is distant, so it means exposure of secrets, and Lilies might indicate that a family member will do so even if accidentally. ⛤ Moon beside Lilies and above Tower. Tower is a negative card that represents illness, though I also take this to mean more than physical illness. Alongside Moon, it could be saying that there will be an exposure of something illness related. ⛤ Bouquet below Coffin and above Shepherd. Coffin influences Bouquet, while Bouquet influences Shepherd. Bouquet is a positive card, albeit dampened by Coffin's dreariness, but it shines well on another relationship in your life. ⛤ Tower below Moon and above Tree. Tower remains a negative card, but Tree below it pushes up some roots of positivity. Despite everything, there is an underlying okay-ness with it all. ⛤ Shepherd below Bouquet and beside Clouds. Shepherd is a positive card, heralded further by Bouquet, and Clouds is ultimately neutral here due to its position. While one thing may end, another thing will blossom in its place. Shepherd and the Querent's backs are to each other, implying leaving something behind or walking away from another person. ⛤ Clouds beside Shepherd and Tree. Clouds is neutral due to neither dark nor light side facing the Querent due to being underneath, and is sandwiched between two positive cards - turning Clouds message positive-leaning. The message is about the same as the last one - While things may end, new things come in, alongside that the hopes and dreams you have will be fulfilled. ⛤ Tree below Tower and Clouds. Tree is affected by Tower's dread, so while there is hope for positivity, there isn't very much and it's drowned out by pain and hurt.

Now, let's turn to the outer ring. ⛤ Rider above Dog and beside Mouse. Rider is far, so good news will come from far away or from a distant person. Dog is near, so it represents true friends and friendships. Mouse, however, indicates loss. This card could be saying that while you are losing something, your friends will come together to help you from afar. ⛤ Mouse beside Rider and Key. Mouse is near, so the recovery from the loss will be swift, and Rider still brings with it positivity. Key is neutral in this case as it is beside a positive and a negative card, so ultimately the message is that recovery will be swift, but might not be particularly easy. ⛤ Key beside Mouse and above Letter. Letter is a very positive card for it's considered touching in my reading style, so it brings further positivity. In the case of Key, it depicts success and fortune in that success, even if Mouse attempts to bring loss. ⛤ Dog below Rider and above Order. Dog is near, so true friends. Order brings honor and recognition, and Rider makes that swift. Your true friends recognize you and your greatness, and they are there to support and help you move forward. ⛤ Letter below Key and above Pig. This is about as favorable as you can get. There is some great success there supporting you and affecting you, and you have great people behind you as well supporting your every step. ⛤ Order below Dog and beside Money Safe. Money Safe remains neutral due to no particular side facing the Querent, and so one can take this to ultimately mean that while your friends and support groups are there for you, you still have work to do yourself in order to heal and recover from what ails you. ⛤ Money Safe beside Order and Pig. Pig is about the most favorable card in the deck and is always positive, but the shut side of the Money Safe faces Pig, and the open side faces Order. You might find that it's easier to acknowledge that people like you more than you can acknowledge that things will be okay. ⛤ Pig below Letter and beside Money Safe. Pig brings a great blessing upon this entire reading, bringing fortune and joy upon you. Even with Money Safe's closed side facing it, Pig overwhelms that.

The Querent is facing the right, so the things to the right might be your focus and what you do see. There's lots of mixed feelings, some positive things, some negative. You recognize both, but with how positive Pig is, you might be finding yourself trying to focus more on the positives than the negatives.

Above the Querent lies Lilies, which both signals virtuous life, and also can indicate that your thoughts are focusing on living well and being a good person to others.

Below the Querent lies Clouds, which neither light nor dark side face. Your emotional state and focus might be on both the positive and the negative, much like the first part of this finale says.

Thank you so much for your patience with me performing this reading.

Reviews are helpful, but optional. You can send them in replies, my ask box, or reblogging this post. Feel free to reblog this post with your thoughts in general, or without a review! You can also reblog my guidelines post if you like. If you feel particularly satisfied with my work, you may leave a tip in my Ko-fi. No pressure for any of this!

Please do not reblog this post if you are not the querent. If you want something to reblog, please reblog my guidelines post. If there's something within the post you want, you may ask, and depending on the request, I might fulfill it! Thank you!

I hope you, and all readers, have a wonderful day!

[sitp-recs]

hii! i hope you’re doing well!! i was wondering if you have any long-ish fic recs that are harry-centric? ive been rescind a lot of draco centric fics lately and while i adore those i was hoping a for a bit of change and you have the best taste in fics so i came straight here 😅🌸 thanks in advance

Hi there! Thank you, I’m so happy you enjoy the recs 💜 here are some great Harry-centric long fics, I hope you enjoy:

At the Doorway, On the Stair by dwell_the_brave (T, 30k)

A year after Draco Malfoy goes missing, his mother has one last option—Harry Potter. Having left the Auror department and made a name for himself as a Private Investigator, Harry cannot help but get involved in the disappearance of Draco Malfoy.

Faint Indirections by ignatiustrout (T, 30k)

Draco Malfoy is the last person Harry expects to turn up in Boston, Massachussetts. But now he's here, and he won't stop requesting books from the library where Harry works.

On Your Shore by @xanthippe74 (M, 35k)

Clearing out a remote house full of cursed collectibles in the Outer Hebrides? Not a problem for an experienced curse breaker like Harry Potter. Spending a week with the straight, happily-married man that he’s starting to have feelings for? And sharing a bed with him at night? Surely Harry can handle that, too.

Rush (For A Gap That Exists) by @sleepstxtic-drarry (M, 42k)

A story of love and loss that grew amidst the most infamous rivalry in Formula One history: the story of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.

Blood and Fire by @lqtraintracks (E, 45k)

Harry has spent the last twelve years in Romania, not returning to England as often as he knows he should. It's complicated. But when Ginny asks him to be her best man and help her plan her wedding, he can't say no.

The Way We Wind by @thesleepiesthufflepuff (E, 45k)

After the war, Harry’s life falls to shambles. Each day revolves around an intense battle with his mental health, and there’s nothing that Ron or Hermione can do to help him.

fly like paper, high like planes by @harryromper (M, 47k)

Harry Potter, Head Coach of the Appleby Arrows, is very content leading a quiet life. He has a doddery old house-elf who makes his breakfast, a team of players who love Quidditch almost as much as he does, and a Kneazle that curls against his damaged leg at the foot of his bed at night.

Crossing Lines by Ren (E, 48k)

While investigating a ring of smugglers, the Aurors receive a tip saying that the European Express is being used to move contraband across state lines. To solve the case, Harry has to unmask the smugglers and find the hidden contraband before the luxury train reaches Bulgaria.

Here's The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout (M, 49k)

Harry thinks "Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?" is a much simpler question than, "Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don't, what will you do?"

I Won't Let You Fall Apart by @xanthippe74 (M, 50k)

Harry has spent the year after the war staying out of the public eye, dodging political battles, and standing firm against pressure from his friends. But he has a secret plan to get away from it all. He just needs to testify at one more Death Eater trial: Draco Malfoy’s.

New Message by @m0srael (T, 58k)

Harry Potter has a crush on his roommate--like, a BIG one--but he can't say anything to him, can he?! Naturally, he does what any early 2000s young adult would do and asks the internet for help, and gets a lot more back than he expected.

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (E, 61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

The Beauty of Thestrals and Other Unseen Things by @writcraft (E, 63k)

Harry has terrific friends, an amazing girlfriend and his job as Head Auror enables him to work on challenging cases and Ministry reform. He just wishes he could work out why he’s been so out of sorts.

The Promise of Summer by Omi_Ohmy (M, 66k)

How was Harry supposed to know that coming back for eighth year would be so confusing? Everything is the same, and yet not the same. And nowhere is this more obvious than with Draco Malfoy.

Crown Witness by @slytherco (E, 70k)

After the war, wizarding society is oppressed by a new kind of plague—an organised crime group calling itself the Family. When Harry Potter goes to interrogate a potential witness, he doesn’t expect to end up on the run again, trying to keep Draco Malfoy alive, while a manhunt follows in their footsteps, adamant on eliminating the one witness that could ruin everything.

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them (or Draco Malfoy's Guide to Stop Dying and Start Living Instead) by nerakrose (T, 96k)

Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry.

Pages of You by @wolfpants (E, 101k)

Summer, 1980. Harry is floating between university and becoming a Real Certified Adult. He's not ready. He really isn't. In a desperate attempt to have the Best Last Summer ever, he takes a casual job at his godfather's bookshop in London, starts an illicit pen pal affair with a wordy posh boy that he's catching feelings for, all while dealing with the son of Sirius's business rival, one Draco Malfoy, insufferable know-it-all extraordinaire.

Make Yourself by AnyaElizabeth (E, 103k)

Harry just wants to be safe within the freshly painted walls of Grimmauld Place, with his friends around him. But when he hears Draco Malfoy has been spotted at the local soup kitchen, he can't help but encourage a different type of stray to come under his roof.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

where all the veins meet by eight_of_wands (E, 146k)

It's the summer of 1998. The battle is over, and Voldemort is dead, but Harry still has more questions than answers. Who is he without a piece of Voldemort's soul in his head? What is he supposed to do now? His friends try to help, but the only thing that can hold his attention—one of the only things that ever has—is Draco Malfoy, out on parole and weirdly hanging around the British Museum.

[whowantslovergirl]

can i request a pope Heyward x jj’s sister reader who (tw) k!11s her and Jj’s dad (while jj isn’t home) and she goes to John b’s house just sobbing in shock .

You can make up the rest !

An: i was walking home when I read this and I was SHOCKED FLABBERGASTED IF YOU WILL THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA this is most likely after the Fred Weasley story i posted sooo HOPE YALL LIKED THAT writing smut is such an ick and i tried BUT HOPE YALL ENJOY THIS

Shock

Pope Heyward x Maybank! reader (reader is female with she/her pronouns) JJ Maybank x sister! reader

warnings: killing (obviously), oitnb reference, established relationship, cursing, blood is described, the killing is described, different povs (ur gonna know whose pov), JJ is so sweet in this oh my

outer banks masterlist

Summary: Y/N did something really bad

posted: April 29,2023

There is blood all over your hands, body, and splattered on your face.

You killed him. Oh my god.

You killed Luke.

_____

You rushed to the chateau still in shock that you killed somebody. Then left the crime scene.

You started to cry, sob even. You’re going to jail for life. Oh my god. What if it’s like orange is the new black? You don’t want to be the next Piper Chapman.

You finally get to the chateau, blood coating the door as you knock. John B opens the door.

John B’s POV

Who the fuck is knocking this late? I looked at the time.

“1 am. The fuck” There was another knock. I rubbed my eyes tiredly. I opened the door and it’s Y/N. “Hey Y/N- oh my god.” She’s covered in blood and it doesn’t look like hers.

“Is JJ and Pope here?” She said trembling.

“Yea they’re all here hol- hold on I’m gonna get them. JJ! Pope! Wake up!” I said running to the other room.

JJ’s POV

JJ! Pope! Wake up!” I heard John B yelling interrupting my wonderful dream. Pope jolted awake which cause me to jolt awake. “What the hell man? We were sleeping.” I exclaimed. “There’s no time for that JJ and sorry for waking you up but Y/N’s is in the front and she has blood all over her

and I don’t think it’s hers.”

What the hell.

Pope and I ran to the front at the thing said about my sister and his girlfriend.

And we both were shocked. She had blood all over her hands.

“Y/N? Who’s blood is that?” She didn’t answer me. I nudged Pope to ask the same thing.

“Y/N who’s blood is that?”

Y/N’s POV

“You already asked that!” I exclaimed, of course I am on edge I just killed a man. And not just any man, my father.

“Calm down N/N. I’m going to ask you again. Who’s blood is that?”

My ears are ringing, my heart pumping so hard that I can hear it. JJ’s question is registered in my brain but I just couldn’t answer.

“I didn’t mean too. I was scared and-.” I cut myself off with a sob. “Can you just tell us?” Pope reached for my hands but I retracted them. I looked at JJ. “Jay I didn’t mean it. The bottle was just there.”

“What are you talking about Y/N?”

“It’s Luke’s. It’s his blood.

I killed him.”

JJ’s POV

“I killed him.”

My sister killed our father.

My sister killed our father.

Everyone had shocked reactions. I was taken aback. Pope and John B looked like they suspected something like this would happen.

“I am so sorry. I was scared and he started yelling.” She said it all in one breath.

“Ok ok wash your hands get a change of clothes and tell us later ok?”

“No no! Just you! JJ! Only you!” She started shaking and trembling. “Alright. Ok! Just me you can just tell me.” I bring her to the sink to wash her hands then walked away.

Y/N’s POV

I saw the water turned red and I teared up. I might be going to jail. I’m never going to see JJ or Pope again. My life is over.

JJ’s POV

Silence filled the air. What are supposed to do? Hide the body? Frame him to make it look like a suicide? How can I protect my sister?

“What should we do?” John B breaks the silence. “I can’t be an accessory to a crime. Especially murder!” He exclaimed. “You’re not going to protect her? We’ve been friends since the third grade and you of all people are not going to protect her?!” Then we started arguing. He was saying he doesn’t want to go to jail again. I was saying that no one deserves to go to jail.

“Shut up!” Pope yelled so we can shut up and we did.

“She’s probably going through the same thing! She’s scared and you guys are arguing instead of checking on her! JJ go check on her. John B just stay here.” We followed his directions. I went to the door of the bedroom.

“Y/N?” I called out.

“Hey I’m in here but don’t come in I’m changing!”

_____

“Ok come in!”

Y/N’s POV

He walked in and sat on the bed. I sat next to him. I just know he’s looking for an answer but I don’t know it either.

“Um I know you want to know what happened so I just want start by saying I’m really sorry and please don’t see me any differently ok? You promise?” I held up my pinkie and he gave a small laugh. We take pinkie promises very seriously, had been ever since we were 12.

We interlocked our pinkies. I took a deep breath in and deep breath out.

“He was yelling about something. Calling us disappointments and how we are no good you know all the good stuff. He was throwing bottles at me and I got a scar to prove it.” I lifted up my sleeve and showed him the cut on my left arm.

“But anyway I was getting scared and he started to get closer. I picked up one of the broken bottles just in case anything happened you know?” He nodded. “Then he got even closer and screamed ‘Ima kill you! You little shit! Come here!’ then he tried grabbing me and before he did I stabbed him. On the side of his neck.” I stared to cry reliving the trauma. He hugged me.

“It’s going to be okay N/N nothing will happen to you.”

Then there was a knock on the door.

Pope stuck his head in.

“Hey can I talk to Y/N?” JJ nodded and walked out.

“It was self defense man.” I heard him whisper in Pope’s ear. He closed the door and Pope sat next to you.

“He’s right by the way. He threatened my life and I was scar-.” He cut me off with a big hug. “I know you don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“I don’t want to go to jail Pope.”

“I know and nothing will happen to you. The last thing that will happen is you going to jail ok?”

I nodded. “I love you Pope.”

“I love you too Y/N.”

Then there was three loud knocks at the door.

“This the Kildare County Sheriff!

I’m looking for Y/N Maybank!”

“Oh my god.” You cover your hand over your mouth.

You are so going to jail.

An: HEYEYEYEYE guys episode is my guilty pleasure but anyway hoped you enjoyed this and until i post again my lovers 🤍 *hint: pope heyward;)

[agentelevatormusic]

The Ride

Despite fifteen years with the Foundation, Vera had been flown in by helicopter on mercifully few occasions. It usually signified disaster, either imminent or in progress, and most of the time the helicopter was up in the air for less time than it took to load in herself and the patient.

This one, however, had been flying long enough that Vera had finished all three of the rather hefty medical journals she’d brought along in her light bag for the journey. Vera realized all too quickly that the estimated reading time she’d allotted for the books had either been a grievous, and uncharacteristic miscalculation, or they’d been in the air for a good time longer than she’d believed possible for a helicopter to stay up. 

She leaned back and closed her eyes. This was the Foundation. Anything was possible. Literally anything. Something was off, yes, but there was no reason to dwell on it. 

Instead, she began listing things. Taking a mental inventory of everything she’d packed. Her sidearm and her assault rifle had been confiscated, surprisingly, but they would likely provide her an upgrade upon arrival. 

Then she listed the treasures in Tom’s collections. Almost all of it was in her long term storage unit now. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Vera was hit with a pang of sadness. If only she’d brought his seashells. Tom had doted on that collection. Whenever he added a new piece, he would spend hours polishing the entire bunch. Offering her shells with the most color. Pinks and purples and reds. The smoothest nacre. The most intoxicating sound of the sea. 

Vera shook her head and began to list every time she had ever been in a helicopter. All the times she had done as much as she could on the ground only to carry on inside a machine that whirred maddeningly all around her in the hopes that her patient would live. It was impossible not to remember, with bitterness, the involvement of a helicopter evacuation in what she considered among her darkest moments amidst a veritable lifetime of darkest moments.

There was no use in being angry with the Foundation. 

She leaned forward. Pressed her elbows against her knees as best she could with the helicopter belting. The opening notes to Over the Rainbow flickered to life in Vera’s mind. She glanced over at her violin, Sarasvati, carefully strapped in on her right. Vera had insisted. The violin was not optional. The violin was a condition of boarding. 

The song continued softly in her memory. Only violin and piano accompaniment. She and Ella had learned it before either of them had been playing a full year as a present for Ella’s sixth birthday. A present they adored and remembered almost entirely with fondness, for once. The Wizard of Oz had been their favorite everything growing up. They read each other the books, dressed up as Dorothy and Glinda the Good, and ruined the cassette overwatching the movie in their limited spare time. It was still Ella’s favorite. Likely, it always would be. 

Vera drew in a sharp breath and reached under the collar of her blouse. She drew out a delicate gold chain with two simple wedding bands on it. One she’d removed so recently that a pale, thin line remained visible on her ring finger. The other she’d taken off years before. Though she’d tried at times to leave it in the matchbox with the other two, she’d never successfully put it away for more than a few days before pulling it back out. Vera ran her thumb and forefinger over the outer rim of each ring. It soothed her and carried her gently back to them both. The tiny action was hypnotic. Eventually, Vera fell asleep. 

The landing woke her with a start. Vera remained seated longer than was at all required of her. She ran a few more circles around the rings while she stared at the doors. There was no way to know what lay behind them, but she did feel grateful that, for once, the helicopter’s signals were off. Before takeoff, Vera had shut her eyes to the screaming brightness of those red and white lights. 

With the lights off, if anything, it reminded Vera of the calm before entering an operating suite. The routine of stepping backwards into the room with all the confidence of a surgeon and all the reassurance of a physician. It reminded Vera of her hands, sure and steady, before the first incision.

She unbelted herself and had a leisurely stretch as they opened the doors for her. Tucked the rings back into her blouse. Tugged on her bag and her kit as her curly hair began to pick up in the wind. Vera unstrapped Sarasvati and held the violin close. And then, with a toothy grin at her handlers, she walked backwards towards the open doors and hopped off the helicopter. 

The doctor was in. 

[meltotheany]

Goodreads | Amazon US | B&N | Blackwell’s | Bookshop “And when the Empire is weak, it is often because a powerful few have denied us the abundance of our people.” if you’re looking for a fantasy murder mystery that has a sherlock and watson dynamic, with a setting that feels like you were dropping into attack on titans, with themes of systemic injustice, and discussions on classism, with a story that follows a queer mc with a learning disability… well, i am here to tell you to please look no further in this world, the land is separated by rings, and those rings are walls that are constantly being reinforced to keep leviathans out and the people safe. especially the outermost wall, that is also constantly being manned by a military force. also in this world, people are able to get magical augmentations that enhance abilities – and there is a vast range of different augmentations from strength, to sight, or even memory. this land, these augmentations, and different sorts of technological advancements are constantly changing and evolving because of the flora and the importance of the array of plant life on this land. also, this story takes place right on the cusp of the wet season, where the land is less forgiving, alongside the leviathans trying to breach the walls. and if the leviathans do reach the shores, their blood and bodies have a very strange effect on the land and can make a place completely uninhabitable. and lastly, a murder rather unusual, involving the flora in this world, just happened and no one has any clues as to why or how, but the empire needs it solved before the wet season officially hits. this story follows an assistant to a detective, named dim, who is an engraver, which means he has an enhancement that allows him to remember everything he is seeing, and relay it back to his detective with 100% accuracy and certainty. this is because of an augmentation that he has, and he is able to extra anchor the memories with a vial of a fragrance he is able to tie the experience to. and truly, him exploring all of these places, and manors, and crime scenes, and attaching all of these clues to scent, was one of my favorite parts of this book. but the detective herself? oh, ana is the best character i’ve read in years! truly a new favorite for me! ana is a bit of a mystery herself throughout the book, so i don’t want to say too much, but she seems to be banished to the outer ring, but she needed a new assistant for a murder mystery in which she is very much needed to solve. and together we watch din and her work together and try to find the murderer(s), while more and more mystery ensues. this was just a really fresh story, and something that really pushed the bounds of both fantasy and mystery genres. yet, also combining both and making a really beautiful and harmonious experience for readers. this felt different to read, and special to consume, and it really surpassed absolutely every expectation i had prior to purchasing this book at b&n because i love the trend of covers being printed directly on hardcovers with no dust jackets. “Born into systems beyond our control, into relationships and organizations that obligate us to change, all so our families may prosper… That’s what the empire is, isn’t it?” to me, this story really also discusses themes of classism and social injustice, where the rich colonizers get to live in safety in the most inner walls, while also having the money to protect themselves from any and all things. while the essential workers who are trying to make all the walls and land a safer and better place are forced to work and live in unsafe conditions. and while people from impoverished communities are forced to give everything they have, in hopes that something will make it back to their families so they will be able to live a tiny bit of a better life. (please know, there is a lot more i want to say, but i won’t because of spoilers – but i really loved some of the themes and thoughts that i felt like were presented within this story!!) “If you ...

[jinmukangwrites]

weep little lion man (8/14)

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Fandom: Jedi: Fallen Order / Survivor Rating: T Warnings: implied rape/noncon (NOT INVOLVING CAL OR BODE, IT'S A VAGUE FORCE ECHO MENTION), illness, fever dreams, mentions of blood and death. Ao3 Notes: I promise this chapter isn't as heavy as it sounds. This is actually one of my favorite chapters I've written too, so I hope y'all enjoy :>

Summary: After defeating Dagan Gera for a third and final time, the Compass ends up in Bode's hands without a scratch. He could go back to Jedha with Cal... but he's holding what he wants. He doesn't see the point in pretending any longer. He makes a split-second decision. Or: Bode's betrayal goes a bit differently.

~~~°~~~

One of the advantages of being a psychometric is that Cal learnt, from a very young age, how to tell reality from unreality.

Master Tapal used to sit him down for hours and lecture him through various exercises; as rare as psychometry is, it wasn't unheard of for psychometrics to lose grasp on reality after particularly harrowing visions, sometimes going as far to forget who they are in the real world. Cal's heard horror stories of a psychometric centuries ago who was so convinced her own life was an echo of someone else to where she eventually tried to end it.

Cal desperately wished he had brought gloves with him for this mission, but Tapal had instructed him to try and refuse echoes, practice sensing vague details of the memories before touching them. He couldn't run from them forever. He had to learn to control through the Force what is shown to him, and what he ignores. He was still getting used to it, but luckily most of the echoes were small, or they weren't anything he hadn't experienced before.

Granted, Cal's had rough experiences with echoes even with the exercises. Master Tapal had done his best to keep his young Padawan away from echoes that could include death, but there are plenty of things more traumatizing and painful than death.

Cal knows this, he's experienced them.

There was one time he and his master had been called to assist on a resistance effort on some Outer Mid-Rim planet a bit too close to Hutt Space for anyone's comfort. Cal hadn't been sent to help at the front lines with his Master, but instead had been stationed to help care for the refugees. There, Cal helped plenty of people, breathing through every single memory that the brushes off their clothes, their rings, their water flasks, had tried to shove into his mind. A bandana from a man who has sobbed into it after his son died stillborn. A scuffed shoe from a woman who used to dance before her theater was destroyed by a thermal detonator.

At some point, a woman had caught Cal's attention by desperately looking for a small earring, he had nothing better to do as most of the clones had the medical stuff and the handing out supply stuff handled, so he helped her.

He found it, and the second his fingers closed around the earring his mind got ripped away, replaced by the thoughts, emotions, memories of an escaped slave. She wasn't free in this echo, however. She clutched the earring in one hand, the one her lover had given her before she was taken, as she was violated, tears streaming down her face.

The memory wasn't long, but it was violent and strong. He'd fallen to the floor during it, his knees hitting the stone hard enough to bruise the next day. Cable, a clone that had been stationed in the 13th Battalion for as long as Cal's been there, recognized the signs immediately. Cal had always suspected Master Tapal had assigned various troopers with the task of paying attention to Cal when he couldn't. When Master Tapal wasn't there, Cable always was.

He ripped the earring out of Cal's hands and returned it to the woman, gently calming her down when she assumed she had done something wrong. Then, he returned to Cal, picked him up by the arms—Cable never had memories attached to his gauntlets, they were always new, another piece of proof that Tapal had troopers specifically assigned to handle Cal, careful to the point not even their armor could distress him more. Cal knew that other troopers often teased Cable for being a shiney, despite being older than many of them—and he dragged Cal over to the corner of the supply tent and talked him through exercises to return to himself.

It wasn't as bad, mentally, as it could have been. Cal knew his name. He knew the year. He knew where he was. But even after getting his breathing under control, he could feel the hands on him. On her. The weeks following, Cal flinched at the slightest touch, then finally broke down sobbing the second Master Tapal gently initiated an intervention when the flinching got in the way of training.

There were other bad echoes. Ones of victims beat to an inch of their lives. Ones of children abused by parents. Ones of small unwanted animals tied into a bag and thrown into a river.

His nightmares had always been overflowing with horrific memories that were never really his, and after the Purge, it had only gotten worse. He couldn't avoid echoes of death, not when half the ships he scrapped had death soaked into every wall and his gloves had holes, or the tools he worked with needed dexterity his gloves wouldn't allow. One time, Prauf had to call his name five times before he responded, because Cal was dissociating, thinking his name was Sev and that he was supposed to be dead.

Master Tapal had always encouraged him to seek out happy echoes, strong echoes didn't necessarily mean only pain and suffering. Sometimes it meant love, happiness, peace.

There wasn't any of that on Bracca. Besides Prauf.

The echo he got from Cere's hallikset was probably the first genuinely peaceful echo he'd sensed in the five years after the Purge. He was so caught up in Cere's peace, her love for the instrument, that after he sensed the tune, he couldn't help but sit down and hold it like she would, strum it like she would, only blinking back to his own mind and his own body when Cere herself arrived, it took a heartbeat to dismiss the unease of being someone, and then seeing that real someone show up.

All in all, Cal's not perfect at it, but he's used to telling memories and reality apart. The past from the present. He's used to reminding himself who he is and where he was whenever his mind stubbornly tries to convince him otherwise.

There's one thing he'd never gotten the hang of, however. It's the nightmares. Telling things apart is so much easier when you're awake, but asleep it's near impossible. Sometimes, he'll wake up screaming; clarity always comes quickly but it doesn't stop how reality becomes indistinguishable when asleep. He often dreams of being someone else, or he'll dream of his Master's death, memories assaulting him the moment he's unconscious enough to not be able to tell himself they're not really happening to him.

Cal's standing on an open expanse of wet, smooth stone. Rain pours down, and he pulls his poncho hood up to cover his ears. There's nothing but horizon around him, and thunderstorm clouds to fence him in. The air reeks of electrified ozone, he feels like he's breathing soup.

"Cal," a voice calls from behind, and Cal startles. It's Bode's voice, which relieves him slightly. If anyone's in here with him, he's glad it's a friend.

He turns, but Bode isn't there.

"You're too late," A monster says instead. Large, completely covered in black, mechanical breathing louder than the pounding rain. Darth Vader's lightsaber erupts, replacing the puddles of rain in the stone with the blood of its light. "You've failed."

Cal barely has time to think about anything before his throat is grabbed through the sickening pressure of the Dark Side. He chokes, body moving forward against his will, the tips of his boots scraping through the puddles of blood, each ripple sending a distant death scream straight to his brain. He claws at his neck, desperately trying to breathe, but Darth Vader doesn't relent. He just keeps dragging Cal towards him, his lightsaber raised lazily, Cal's torso heading right towards it.

It slides easily through him, right below his ribcage, out his back. He chokes for an entirely different reason, Vader doesn't even hold his throat anymore. He can feel his blood boiling within him, the charred remains of his stomach muscles spasming, the reek of his own burning flesh filling his nostrils.

"Cal," Bode says.

Cal coughs copper, eyes wide, Vader breathing with perfect time. He can see over Vader's shoulder, his toes still barely on the ground, his body held up more by the blade than by anything else, like a bug pinned by a single needle. What he sees makes him scream. He's freezing, hacking blood, suffocating, but nothing compares to seeing Gabs, Bravo, the Twins, everyone at Ramblers Reach, Cere, Greez BD, Merrin... Prauf, Master Tapal, hundreds upon hundreds of bodies slaughtered like wild animals, like killing them wasn't a second thought.

"Cal, please," Bode continues.

Cal's shivering. He's dying. Every single body behind Vader's back is dead because of him and he knows it.

"Where were you?" Merrin groans, eyes dead, smoke rising from the hole in her chest. "Where were you?"

Darth Vader laughs, squeezing the Force around Cal's body once again. The thunder rolls, the clouds warping and approaching like Darth Vader himself is summoning them closer. The pressure is suffocating, the sounds of his friends asking him why to the tune of distant screams makes his head spin. He coughs, and coughs again, he's tangled within the power of the Dark Side, his limbs not responding like how he desperately wishes they world.

The clouds come closer, they're pressing in on him, and panic stings him like Bane Back Spider acid.

"Cal!"

The walls are closing in. He can't move. He can't breathe. His hands shake so hard, but there's nothing to grab onto but the seams of Darth Vader's armor.

Trapped. He's trapped. Trapped trapped trapped let him go, he needs to move, he can't breathe he can't breathe he can't-

"Cal wake up!"

He gasps, lungs sucking air greedily as his eyes fly open. But they're trapped in Bode's hands at the wrists, he struggles faintly, curling forward, gagging on the build-up of congestion at the back of his flaming throat. He coughs, then coughs again, whining through the agony that tears through his lungs with each hack. Bode holds him through the fit, saying something, but Cal can hardly focus on anything besides the embers that must have replaced the air, the shivers wracking his own body, the pressure in his ears.

Eventually, the fit fades, and he comes back to himself.

He's Cal. It's ten years after the Purge. He's on Tanalorr. The taste of blood is actually the taste of phlegm, the pain in his ribs isn't from a lightsaber, but from bacterial infection, his shivers are from the fever, the pressure keeping him trapped isn't from the Force or from closing in walls, but from the blankets tangled around his limbs, Bode's hands holding his wrists, he can feel blood trickle down his neck down onto his collarbone. He must have been clawing at his own neck.

He didn't even know he fell asleep.

More and more energy abandons him with every realization. The fit fades. Soon, he's sagging back, weakly tugging his arms out from Bode's hold, and thankfully he lets go. "It was just a dream," Bode says, the second Cal's returns to laying on his back, arm going up to lay across his eyes.

-o-o-o-o-

Bode swallows thickly, watching Cal as he recovers from whatever nightmare had him clawing at his own neck. He'll have to get some bacta on the cuts, he doesn't know what's under Cal's fingernails.

"How long," Cal croaks.

Bode sighs, standing up from where he'd been sitting at the edge of Cal's bed. Cal removes his arm from his eyes, wearily watching him as he bends down and grabs the damp cloth Cal had thrown off his head during his thrashing.

"About twelve hours. Your fevers only gotten worse."

"Oh."

"Whatever you have, it's moved further than a cold."

Cal snorts, then coughs.

Bode frowns. "It's not something to joke about. If we don't get your fever down..."

"I'm fine," Cal says, as if his voice didn't sound like he's replaced his vocal chords with gravel.

"You're shivering."

"I don't," he cuts off to cough, groaning, "need your opinion."

"Opinion? Cal-"

Bode stops before he can even begin the sentence as Cal turns onto his side, face away from Bode, eyes set firmly on the wall.

Frowning, Bode drops the rag into a nearby pail of water. “Look, I know you’re sick, you’re angry with me, and it seems like you just had a pretty hefty nightmare—I need you to work with me just this once. We can’t let your fever get worse.”

“Or what?” Cal asks, not turning away from the wall. Spirits, his voice sounds like volcanic ash. “You’ll lock me in here?”

This petty son of a gundark.

“You’re really going to hold a grudge right now?”

“Grudge? That’s what we’re calling it?”

Breathe in, Bode. Breathe out.

He opens his mouth to argue further, but Cal’s entire body shudders with another coughing fit, knees curling to his chest and mouth pressed into the crook of his elbows. The fit eventually passes, but Cal’s eyes are unfocused and exhausted after. He shivers.

“Just…” Bode says, when it’s clear Cal isn’t going to say anything further, “just drink some water. And keep this rag on you.”

He wrings out the rag then tosses it at Cal’s prone form, knowing Cal’s probably feeling like a cornered animal right now; restrained to his own sick body. He doesn’t want to provoke him further than what that nightmare probably did.

Cal grabs the rag, Bode doesn’t note how his hands shake.

“I’m going to try and find some rations that’ll not be too hard on your stomach, and some bacta; tell me if you start feeling worse.”

Cal grunts, but doesn’t reply any further. Bode sighs, then quickly exits the room. He needs that fever to cool down. If it doesn’t, he might be forced to leave Tanalorr to get some fever reducers. It’s not something he’d like to risk; not with Denvak probably having caught on to him. He’d have to go out of his way to a trading post a few systems out.

He’d risk it though. If it was the only thing that would make Cal better. If that fever doesn’t break by nightfall, or it gets worse, he’ll do it. He’ll make sure Cal gets better, then he’ll find out what he was doing in the forest the whole day despite knowing he was sick.

When he shuts the door behind him, he notices the soul of Kata’s shoe disappear into her room. She’s been no doubt listening in. He sighs, his stomach aching. He’s asked for this. He’s asked for Cal’s hatred; for Kata’s potential rebellion.

He just wishes it didn’t… feel so much like regret.

It would have been so much easier if he hadn’t been so stupid as to call the Inquisitorious on Jedha. He’d been working on high emotions, guilt and terror and adrenaline. If he had kept a cool head, he would have just taken Cal and left his family out of it. Then, once it became clear as it is now that Cal will find ways to destroy himself with or without the Empire, then the thought of letting Cal go back to Koboh wouldn’t seem so impossible. The decision would still be painful, but at least then, Cal wouldn’t find that his freedom came with a price.

He enters Kata’s room before going to find the food and bacta. She’s sitting on her bed, playing with her doll, pointedly not looking at him. He sits down next to her, exhaling into his hands.

“Is Cal okay?” Kata asks after a moment.

Bode squeezes his eyes, then opens them to look at her. “He’s still sick,” he answers. “I need you to do something for me.”

Her eyes light up, she sets her doll down and stares intently back at him.

“Cal’s still angry with me, I don’t think he’ll let me help him much. Maybe, he’ll let you.”

Her eyebrows scrunch together. “What do I need to do?”

“Make sure he’s drinking water. Eating. Replace the rag with new water whenever it gets too dry. Things like that.”

She considers for a moment, then bites her lip. “So you won’t apologize?”

Bode clenches his jaw for a moment. “Kata… not now, okay?”

She looks down to her doll, the bride of her nose wrinkling. “I’m sorry.”

How has everything gone so downhill in just a matter of days? He deflates, feeling exhausted to his core. “It’s alright, baby girl. How about you go keep Cal company while I get some food?”

She nods and stands up, looking entirely too eager to leave the room. Before she leaves, however, she turns towards him, fingers twisting the arm of her doll. “What happens if Cal doesn’t get better?”

Bode feels bone-deep exhaustion as he answers. “I’ll have to leave and get medicine. I’d like to avoid that if we can.”

She nods. “Okay.”

And then she patters out, leaving Bode in an empty room with his whirlwind, traitorous thoughts of shame.

-o-o-o-o-

Cal stares at the ceiling. It’s been ages since he’s been this sick, though luckily it hasn’t been ages since he’s last had a nightmare like that. Sleep always brings the death of his friends.

He needs to get off this planet. Who knows what the Empire is doing while he’s trapped here. How long will it be before they hurt more people that he loves, and he’s stuck on the other side of an abyss with no way to help? To stop it?

And then he just had to get himself sick. And contrary to Bode’s belief, he didn’t purposely make himself more sick. He’d gotten lost in thought; in emotion. He’s long since lost the ability to control his own emotions and let them pass through him like proper Jedi’s did. He doesn’t know how to healthily let the fear, the anger, the betrayal, the humiliation, just… not affect him. Whatever control he’s supposed to have shattered like everything else the second the escape pod crashed onto Bracca. He had to find other ways to control himself. Movement became his main source of output. On Bracca, he moved his fingers with the scrapper tools, blasting music so loud his thoughts were nothing but the music shouted in a language he didn’t understand. After Greez and Cere rescued him, he didn’t have his music much more, but he had BD-1 to chat his ears off. He had planets to explore. Zeffo culture to find. A mission. A purpose.

It’s easy to forget about how shattered your soul is, how aimless your existence is, when you had a purpose.

He wishes he didn’t get sick like this. It wasn’t supposed to go like this; he was supposed to play along and act happy, but his body decided to be miserable and he can barely control his mouth around Bode while feeling awful like this.

The ship. He found the ship.

He can find the compass too.

He grudgingly takes a small sip of water, ignoring the agony that slathers over his esophagus on the way down. He needs to get better, then he can go back to pretending, and he can find the compass and rid himself of this purposelessness.

The door creaks open, and he looks over with a barely contained glare only to freeze at the sight of not Bode, but Kata.

She slides into the room, shutting the door behind her, then looks him dead in the eyes.

“You can’t get better,” she says, “not today.”

[gottawritesomething]

The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together

Chapter 10 of Pride cometh before the fall (Gale FIC) (10/?)

Just a list of things that happen because there is truth in advertising:

Tara tells Talia a new story from Gale's childhood

Talia thinks she's going to be kissed (she's not)

Gale and Isabel argue about next steps

Talia fixes Gale's clothing

Gale has a good then bad dream

A tiny bit smutty.

Interested in one-shots instead? (List of All Current Works)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11

_______________________________________

Gale awoke the next morning groggy and in pain. His hands fumbled for the nightstand alongside his bed where their current cache of magic-infused items lay. His wandering fingers finding a ring of something-or-other , he could not recall. He gripped the ring tightly bringing it to his bare chest, feeling the magnetic pull of the orb on the ring as it drew nearer. With a purple flash, air re-entered his chest, and he took his first proper breath of the morning, the ring clattering uselessly to the floor. He pushed the loose strands back from his face, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes, briefly blocking the light filtering in. He wondered if either Talia or Tara had risen, straining his ears for any scuffle of movement or hum of conversation. Hearing only the deafening silence of the room. 

The stillness reminded him rather uncomfortably of his time in the silent halls of Elysium. Towards the ignominious end, Gale had become much more accustomed to the otherworldly nature of the Outer Planes. Never fully at home, an unfortunate quirk of mortality he’d hoped to iron out with more time. But now, reflecting on his time there, he attempted to suppress a stewing nausea, a desperation still chewing on his insides. He stretched his aching fingers, casting a simple light source, hoping to feel any measure of the comfort or intimacy he’d felt from childhood from even the simplest spells. But there was nothing only a dull echoing hollowness. As though he’d be bundled in thick wool and asked to paint an intricate masterpiece.

He wondered if magic always felt like this to other wizards. If so he could hardly fault them for considering it more a tool than an art. There was no lifeblood to it, no thrum or heat. The orb hummed appreciatively at his misery. He wondered if Talia felt the difference in her casting, her practiced wizards spells shockingly sterile compared to her sorcery. Even still her magic beat with an undeniable movement, matching in time with her heart and her emotions. He’d recalled the argument they’d had on their parting, where he’d insinuated that no one’s magic could be wholly ‘theirs’. But now, banished from the center of the Weave from the outskirts looking in, it was undeniably her. Sparking and arcing with her temperament, even in his deadened state and her suppressed one, he could still sense when she moved through the Weave. Her trademark trails through the broken, then restructured strands. To concede even that had felt blasphemous, a direct contradiction to how she’d been appraised by Her.  

He was uncertain what he had hoped to accomplish by requesting Talia remain at the tower. She’d mentioned some kind of plan to be discussed over breakfast, which could indicate an incoming departure, which in turn had created an odd knot in Gale’s stomach. He’d awkwardly bid her a good night before retiring, only to lay sleepless until the sun had all but crested. He shuffled to his wardrobe, donning a somewhat crumpled house robe, while wondering what time it would be appropriate to rouse Talia. It was an odd feeling, how easily they seemed to have fallen into old patterns. They were both different people, but there were moments it was almost too easy to forget the time they’d been parted. In the millions of things he wished were different about the circumstances, their rekindled friendship was a bright spot. As he steadied himself on the doorway of his bedroom, he heard a great clatter from a floor below. When no call for assistance had appeared, Gale had continued his leisurely pace towards the source. As he neared the kitchen, the scent of fresh bread floated on the air accompanied by Talia’s muffled laughter. He slowed further when he caught the tail-end of his name.

"-I'd had no idea, until I had to learn it myself. How does he cast like that?"

"Referring to his bypassing of traditional casting form? You should not endeavor to follow his example in that fashion, dear. Oh, his tutors used to have a field day with his manner of casting. He’d return from sessions in the foulest of moods. ‘Can you believe that Tara? My movements were allegedly too constrained and yet I produced the spell just as they did.’” Tara’s voice increased an octave in a poor imitation of a younger Gale.

"It's like he's casting in shorthand, I’ve never seen anything like it. No wonder he could keep up with the speed of my sorcery casting. I tried to replicate it and the whole thing fizzled. Profoundly frustrating." Talia groused, as Gale smiled extremely pleased to hear her assessment of him. 

"You could request, he teach you. I'm sure he'd be delighted to demonstrate" Gale leaned nearer, interested in her response.

Talia lightly chuckled, as Gale frowned. Hurt she'd seemed to refuse out of hand.

"Unfortunately I recall what happened to the apprentices he was assigned." They both tittered like gossiping birds.

"Ah yes, one in tears and the other entering the clergy by end of day." Gale's jaw tightened, they'd no idea the inadequacies he'd had to withstand from those two who’d been assigned to him purely through nepotism.

"But by far, his worst quality... is thinking he can skulk around a tower without catching the ear of a Tressym."

Gale straightened his posture, making an attempt at a dignified entrance after being caught. They both eyed him as he entered, Talia put a hand to her mouth to disguise a laugh at his expense.

"I feel obligated to remind you it is my tower, I hardly need an excuse to... skulk. " He turned directly to Talia, "Regardless, you have ten times the talent in your left pinky than those two had combined." For the first time in a very long time, Talia looked earnestly surprised. Had he once again given her the impression he'd not thought her capable? With an internal wince, he recalled his admonishments about the brawl, fueled by that misstep, he pressed on.

"I'd prided myself on my command of the Weave before our meeting, but I was awed by the artistry you brought to it. Where I sculpted the Weave to my needs, deftly, I might add - you coaxed and bent the rules to suit yours. Where I might have had the sheer power of the art at my fingertips to see my will done, you cajoled and encouraged it to see yours done. I've still yet to meet another caster with your finesse. You are a tempest where they were water over stones in a brook." He'd traversed the room without his notice, having drawn closer to her as he spoke, unaware, like a man possessed. They were only a foot or so apart, her eyes glinting up at him, shimmering as their gravity tugged at his mind.

"Ehem!" Tara loudly interjected. The pressure of their gaze broke as they both glanced at Tara and Talia took a half step back. "Oh certainly don't mind me. I was simply under the impression we were having a meal.”

⟺

Talia had awoken at a painfully early hour. Not that she'd been sleeping particularly well these days. Endless uncertainty was not what one might consider a sleeping aid. She’d encountered Tara almost immediately after stepping out of her room, who’d then suggested she begin on breakfast. If suggestions came with express demands and a comment about “a better use for your clear overabundance of energy.” Even with the distraction of cooking Talia felt unbearably tangled and raw. Had she been at full capacity, she’d have been concerned about the surge it would have induced. But instead, she had to contend with her feelings instead of the vastly more manageable wild magic. She’d, at the bare minimum, been honest in her assertions that she anticipated nothing from him. But in reconciling with this fact, she’d been surprised at how swayed she found herself by his version of ‘nothing’. She knew the kind of man Gale was and the kind of person she was, she was setting herself up for undue heartache chasing down the flashes of something else she thought she saw. 

It wasn’t a surprise that he’d changed. It seemed reasonable that someone experiencing a potentially world-ending magic tucked into his chest and an ousting by an omnipotent lover would be forever altered. But she’d been shocked at how resilient he’d been since that dire night. She’d expected him to be vastly angrier with her, with Mystra, with the situation. Instead, he’d set his jaw and trudged onward. There were even moments she felt like he was almost himself, though there was now an undeniable vulnerability to him that seemed to surface with more frequency than before. She’d been utterly unprepared when he’d asked her assessment of his ‘new’ visage. It wasn’t that he’d never asked her opinion on a robe or gaudy hat, but it’d felt to her like a need for assurance she’d not expected to see. The earnestness of the request and his thinly veiled anxiety felt like a well-placed arrow through her heart. She had only managed to ground herself by constantly reminding herself that for years, he’d had abnormal parameters for what constituted a relationship of any kind. She’d been under the impression that he’d maintained some worldly ties, but from what she’d gleaned from Tara, it seems he’d or more accurately Mystra, had painstakingly snipped those threads over the years. She was able to at least temper her heart through the understanding that her role was simply serving as a bandage for his wounded heart and that he still pined for Her. But that knowledge did not stop her heart from beating rapidly or negate the feeling of heat under her skin. She’d had to opt for a diplomatic answer to his question for her own sanity. Though had she provided an honest answer she’d have detailed how the ‘contained’ messiness of his new styling had stirred something primal and hungry in her. How she wished to see his face ruddy with effort above or perhaps below her shifting hips. Or how she’d had to toss herself into research and distractions because it was in terrible taste to think about being taken, pressed against a bookshelf while said gentleman was in agonizing pain and especially when such an action could viably level a city. She could not recall a time she’d gone so long without bedding someone she desired. Especially when paired with her personal dry spell, made for a particularly potent toxin.

So, through those combined circumstances and stressors, she’d found herself covered in flour, debating the correct length of time for proofing dough. Tara had—of course—slept for the vast majority of the preparation, awakening only to critique. Though had softened the blow of her criticism with her own stories of magic and some of Gale’s childhood that he’d curiously omitted. Talia had decided her new favorite was about a ruddy-faced 12-year-old Gale who had spent 3 full weeks preparing a personalized illusion for a boy he’d fancied at school. A flaming dragon whose wingbeats showered down rose petals, Tara had recalled. Except on the chosen unveiling day, Gale had witnessed the object of his affection hold hands with another student and in a rush had confessed his feelings and planned illusion to the boy. Who had immediately demanded to see the promised gift. Tara had remembered Gale’s return home, fists balled and red in the face. He’d apparently briefly blinded his classmates, much to the chagrin of every adult present. A week after the incident, he’d made Tara watch as he recreated the illusion for her.

“He turns to me and says “See I told you I could do it.” as though that was the greatest injustice he’d faced, their belief he couldn’t.” Tara had shaken her head despairingly. It had been no trouble imagining the scenario; Talia had similarly messy missteps, though usually not in pursuit of affection. 

Tara had alerted her of his impending arrival the moment Gale’s feet hit the stairs, but it had still given Talia a well-earned laugh to see him abashed at being caught. And then came the adulation… He’d swept across the room, bound for her. He complimented her as ardently as he argued with her. An insistence that she hear him and agree. As “-a tempest” had left his lips, her brain had senselessly decided he was going to kiss her, despite everything to the contrary. Even as he’d halted both speech and motion, her mind had revolted against the narrow distance that’d remained between them. It had been fortunate for them all that Tara had an uncanny knack for spell-breaking. Talia had turned back to meal preparation, desperate for an interference, only to feel him follow close behind her, pouring praise in her ear as he stood behind her assessing the offerings. Mercifully, Talia had reclaimed a small part of her wits by the time they'd sat to eat. As she finished detailing her findings from the temple of Savras, the afternoon sun lit Gale’s face as she waited for his input, who’d started chewing furiously in his enthusiasm to respond. Talia glanced out the window to keep from smiling at the habit.

“Oh yes! The Keeper of the Eternal Cycle, the Lord of Divination, overseer of all things prophecy. Of all things fated.” Talia was certain she’d hallucinated extra emphasis on the last sentiment. “While he’s no Lady of Mysteries, many do seek his guidance in unraveling the enigmatic, though not widely worshipped these days. Although Waterdeep boasts one of his oldest temples, it is said to be sequestered away in the Undermountain…” His words trailed off.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Yes, absolutely, yes.”

“Talia, as you well know, the Undermountain is crawling with all manners of beasts, not to mention hobgoblins, mad drows, and if recent sighting are accurate, a coven of sea hags. That is to say nothing of the traps and myriad of other nasty surprises. The risk vastly outsizes any possible benefits.” He put his hand to his face thoughtfully “It may however be valuable to pursue some books on the antimagic fields within the Undermountain.” Turning back to hear cheerfully as it had appeared he’d decided. “I think that is a fine concession, we spend our efforts researching instead of needlessly risking life and limb.” His gaze shifted from assertive to pleading, the deep, beautiful brown catching the light of the sun, revealing their depth and warmth. Talia squinted and looked away, she wondered if he knew how severely he threatened her resolve every time. She hoped he didn’t, certain that if he insisted on maintaining eye contact, she’d never get her way again. She steeled herself and plunged back in.

“I do not agree. We need a more immediate and potent fix, there could be other artifacts out there that could counter or contain the orb or perhaps if you ingest something powerful enough it could sate the orb long-term. Already the supplies within the tower grow sparser than is safe. Besides, I’d hardly be starting at the top level. I’ll take the Blue Mermaid passage and get spit out in Skullport.”

“Which is built on Netherese ruins, yes I understand— There is a passage in the Blue Mermaid?”

“Yes. Which affirms my point: I am more than capable of handling this. I’ll admit I’ve avoided it in the past. Non-magic pockets of the Undermountain are not exactly any mage’s cup of tea, but I am otherwise well prepared. With the exception of a few provisions, I could leave very soon.” Gale's frown deepened.

“I do not intend to suggest that you cannot undergo this I am simply suggesting that you should not.”

Talia fought to suppress a bubbling frustration, it felt as though he’d stymied every avenue of improvement that didn’t involve combing through a library’s-worth of books. She disliked this apathy of it all, like he'd decided to simply lose the war to attrition. 

“It isn't as though I'd be on my own if that is your concern. Need I remind you that I specialized in artifact retrieval and thus have numerous connections with which to travel.”

“Even so, we can hardly pretend you’re known for your dedication to safety.”

“My job has never had the guarantee of safety and I refuse to simply remain here, reading while the orb consumes you.”

“I am suggesting you remain here with me while I am here.” The stoicism of his demeanor and the placid acceptance with which Gale spoke, chilled Talia to her core. The icy fear crept outward and froze her blood wherever it flowed. She opened her mouth, the outrage brewing just behind her tongue, but Gale got there first.

“Make no mistake, I want to live. But I know you are sensible enough to see that as the orb’s appetite expands, we cannot maintain the pace required to sate it safely. So yes, I'd like you to stay.” He held her gaze, the pools of brown filling with a saddened appeasement. His gesture fell flat at her growing anger. How had she deluded herself so efficiently, believing they’d been matched in goal and commitment? He, meanwhile, now looked ashamed at requesting her presence. Gale startled as Tara aimed a swipe at his face from the kitchen table.

“You're going to kill us! Your mother and I. How do you think she would fair knowing you were talking like that? Mr. Dekarios swear you don't mean it, swear it!”

Gale looked uncomfortable as he lost a war on both fronts.

“For the Gods’ sakes Gale, let her try at the very least. And don't you try that-” Tara swatted at him again, as he turned fully to her. “batting your big sad eyes only works on her.”

Talia certainly hoped her eye-roll read as authentic as Gale sputtered out an indignation to Tara. However, from the corner of her eye, she saw a soft glow illuminate Gale’s chin.

⟺

Talia stood, her chair scraping the floor with a screech.

"We can discuss this further another time, but I've had my fill of it for now." She strode to the door purposefully, making her intention to exit clear. Gale was seized by a sudden outrage. As she’d turned her back on him, he’d once again felt the sting of rejection. Another declining to hear his feelings, another hand outreached only to be slapped away. The desperation welled within him at an untamable speed. She would doom him to hours spent parsing what he could have done or said to convince her. In that moment he felt himself relive every moment Mystra had cast his concerns aside. He could not bare it, could not once again choke it down without complaint. Was this the man he was now? So insignificant that his wishes could be dismissed with little more than a hand wave and a curt nod. It seemed little wonder Mystra had abandoned him. A frantic sweat broke out across his forehead as the orb simmered and he watched her make her escape. He could see it, another door closed firmly in his face with only himself to blame. But she was still here; he could still make her see. The door swung and the wind rushed into the room as Talia stepped out. Now with Gale close on her heels. Leaving Tara yowling behind them. 

"I don't believe we are done with this conversation, you have yet to acknowledge my perspective or make any concessions and now you attempt to flee me?"

Talia's pace remained steady and methodical, insensing him more. It seemed that most everyone was allowed the last word except him. He'd almost wished she'd yelled, if only to justify his own anger.

"As I mentioned, I'm simply done talking about it now. And 'flee you,' don't you think that is a touch dramatic?"

Paintings and doors seemed to shudder in their frames as the two mages swept through the tower.

"Oh lovely, an accusation of being dramatic as well as senseless. Well I can assure you..."

"Enough Gale. Please." She spoke softly. They had reached the door of her temporary room with surprising speed. She spun to face him. She looked exhausted, heartbroken but still firm in her conviction. "Please." She said again. Gale stepped away from her, surprised at the softness of her tone and the worry in her eyes. He reached gently for her elbow, to his immense relief, she did not recoil.

Her gaze was as steady and unwavering as she was. Inappropriate as the timing was, he was struck by how effortlessly lovely she was. If he had chosen that moment to be gruesomely honest, he'd tell her the prospect of another period of solitude sounded dreadful. The weeks of drowning himself in sorrow still burned freshly in his mind. Unable to muster even the desire to rise from the floor or to speak a word that wasn’t a prayer to Her. Huddled in his room petrified he’d catch a glimpse of the face of the man who had undone his life so utterly. Coupled with Tara’s frequent departures when able to find the energy, he'd buried himself in books with the determination she now showed on his behalf. Only to find less than nothing. Before Talia, he'd reached a morbid but realistic understanding about the prospects of his future.

Though he’d never downplay Tara's endless care for him, Talia's presence had an anchoring effect. Preventing him from drifting back out to sea. Time had seemed to halt after the orb, there was no reason to make sense of days or nights when they marched towards a non-existent future. But Talia's presence had marked the return of milestones and benchmarks. Her laughter ringing through the tower, her impassioned theories, hells even arguing with her added a sense of normalcy he was not eager to let go of. He could not smother the panic at the loss of that connection. Though he could not voice it as he knew the insurmountable pressure that'd place on her shoulders.

Perhaps letting her leave would prepare her for his more permanent departure. The practical choice, even if it felt akin to carving a piece of himself out to lose her. Lose her again , a small bitter voice reminded him. Selfish as it was, he wanted her to have something of him, something to remember him by if the worst of what he feared came to pass and she returned to an empty tower. Again , the voice reminded him. He realized she was staring intently at him, no doubt waiting for his next rebuttal.

"It would seem I've once again let my circumstances get the better of me. I only request you account for my feelings on the matter. Though I've clearly not earned the right given my behavior."

"I always take them into account, Gale. But it does not ensure my compliance.”

“No, I suppose it does not.” He sighed, weary from his own blustering. “We needn’t hurry to a decision as of yet, so in the meantime… But I could interest you in another matter?”

Talia tilted her head just slightly, an acknowledgment to continue. 

“There was something rather magical I wished to show you. Or rather teach you. I could not help but overhear your interest in my… gesticulations. Could I tempt you with a lesson? I assure you, you will not be left adrift or bound for ordination.” He smiled graciously as he poked fun at her previous sentiment. He found himself immensely relieved as she acquiesced. 

“We’ll start with something simple, then—Not because I think you unable.” He’d sensed the protest before it’d formed. “Due to the muscle memory, each casting requires. Now, watch closely.” He pivoted his wrist, moving his fingers as he did so, tracing the components of the spell in the air as his hand moved. Talia watched his hands with a cat-like inquisitiveness, her eyes sliding up his arms and fingers as they flexed. After a few observations, she attempted to mirror him, her movements too fast and poorly combined. Her rush to mastery evident. He stepped behind her if nothing else, to prevent her from seeing his smile.

“Give yourself a moment.” He spoke softly and encouragingly. One of her curls tickled his nose.

“There is no rush, we could do this all night, if need be.” Her head tilted a touch at his words while her efforts redoubled. A smooth breath out, and her hand slowed considerably as a spark of flame graced her fingertips.

“Very good.” He smiled warmly expecting her to turn to him in celebration, only for her to stay stubbornly focused on the movement. As he regarded her progress, he realized he found himself surprised.

“I don't believe I've ever shown anyone how to do this.” She turned back to him quizzically. 

“At least not in an instructive fashion.” He amended quickly. “The cutthroat nature of academics rarely leaves room for such collaboration. Cannot afford to lose your edge, so to speak.” 

“Or maybe no one else had the talent for it.” He’d offered the compliment casually but knew the truth of the matter. 

Talia faced him entirely now.

“One of the closely guarded secrets of Gale of Waterdeep then?” She asked teasingly. 

“Would you like to know another?” Her gaze snapped to his, a question on her tongue. Before he could answer, worry brewed stormily over her face. 

“Has the orb’s impact worsened? The vein running near your eye looks…”

“I will need a few more descriptions before I can-” But she'd stepped forward, her fingers outstretched.

“May I?”

Gale swallowed thickly before nodding wordlessly. He watched her face intently as she examined the trail of the vein. Gently, she raised her hand to his cheek. She traced the line across his skin, the tips of her fingers just brushing him. Gale held his breath, at this distance, he could smell the warm scent of her skin, mingling with the now faded smell of burnt citrus. She raised her other hand to his chin, tilting it to grant her more access to his neck. He felt the heat of her breath on his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. A moment later, there was a small puff of air as she laughed to herself at his reaction. Gale tilted his head up as he felt her fiddle with the top clasp of his robe. Her fingers occasionally dipped below the fabric of the neckline, the tips of her fingers gliding over his chest. He tried to catch her eyes as she released the top tie of his wrapped tunic, uncertain of what he hoped to see there. But she remained singularly focused, apparently unimpacted by their closeness and touch. He was not certain that he’d remained so aloof. Her hand retreated from him, the absence of her warmth and cold air on his skin sending goosebumps up and down his skin.

“If feels raised.”

“Hm?” His mouth felt exceptionally dry, uncertain he could get a sentence out. “I was just-”

“The pathway, I mean. Very odd I wouldn’t have throught it would react like an infection with swelling. But the orb itself seems to cut into the skin…” She trailed off, chewing a finger nail and looking thoughtful. Suddenly, as if just hearing what he’d said she returned her attention to him alongside the all too familiar feeling of being cooked alive under her interrogation. He wasn’t certain but thought he might have caught a smile tugging at the side of her mouth before her face became a mask of curiosity.

“What did you think I meant?”

“Only that…with your proximity…” As these words tumbled out of his mouth, to his growing horror and her widened eyes, he recalled that—he did not in-fact—have to give an honest answer to the question. “That is to say…” Talia had lost the pretense of indifference and had elected to instead hide the entire lower half of her face with a poorly disguised cough into her hand as her eyes glimmered. Mercifully, she turned back to the door.

“We can talk more about the Undermountain soon; I will be back tonight,” she offered over her shoulder before walking through the door and disappearing from view.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, to Gale’s great relief. Talia had not returned by supper, forcing him to stew in his verbal slip alone. It seemed as though the deficit left by the collapse of his relationship caused his body to still crave closeness and connection, and Talia being the nearest at hand posed a problem. It wasn’t fair to her, just as it would not be fair to anyone in this situation… He’d have to steps to suppress her impact on him. Or anyone’s impact on him, he thought reasonably. With a plan for the coming days he allowed himself sleep, closing his eyes and dreamed. Though even in his dream he could not escape her influence. 

He once again found himself on that threshold. From years ago now. Talia silhouetted by the soft blues and periwinkle lights that glowed from within the room behind her. If he strained his eyes, he could make out the inscrutable smile on her face. Her eyes promised an embrace of what kind he was uncertain. The scent of tea and soft spices wafted through the air as she took a deliberate step backward into the room, settling against the doorframe such that he'd brush against her to step inside. Once again, old anxieties washed over him. But for this moment within the dreamscape, he allowed them to flow through him and past, their waves sinking back into the sea. He drew himself up and stepped through the doorway. For just a moment, Talia’s eyes grew wide, and his breath caught until a brighter grin returned to her face. His arm just brushed hers as he passed by, pivoting towards her. He reached a hand out to touch her face, as he’d done on the wintery roof but this time with clearer intent to them both. Despite everything, would she be shy, he wondered, as her face seemed to shift between bold and blushing. His own imagings unable to decide which impact he preferred to have on her. He ran his thumb over the softness of her lips, imagining for a moment how they would feel against his in earnest. An uncertainty pulled his face back from hers.

Instead, he gently tilted her chin up towards him, her gaze focused on his with a palpable pull. With a reverent tenderness, he pressed his thumb on her plush bottom lip, parting her lips with a faint wet sound. He felt the heat of her mouth across the tip of his thumb, unconsciously, he slowly slid onto her tongue, chasing the warmth. She closed her lips around him, sealing in the wet warmth and securing his finger between her tongue and her palate. He felt the pull of her mouth as she invited him deeper, eyes fixed on him and dark with want. He groaned involuntarily, feeling unsure of his footing as his knees weakened. But the floor gave way before his knees.

He tumbled over himself as he fell through inky blackness, the air passing him with a syrupy thickness. Pressing on his chest as it raced by, preventing any claim his lungs attempted. Rapidly, a marble floor rose to meet him. He braced as his hands and knees slammed into the floor, stinging but otherwise unharmed. He raised his head glance about. If the landing hadn’t knocked the air from his lungs, his surrounds would have. His breathing seemed to echo off the empty, gilded halls of Elysium. He attempted to rise from his hands and knees only to find his hands submerged in the floor. He not sinking but possessed no leverage in which to extract himself. The silence felt as oppressive as the air, an uncalculatable weight pressing in on him. As he once again found himself in need of help with not a soul to call to. His eyes drew to the end of the hall, seeing a flash of burnish copper curls and then an excruciating pain.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, (Next Chapter)>Chapter 11

Interested in one-shots instead? (List of All Current Works)

[meteor752]

Double life kids, eight years later

The final designs for the kids. Wont make anymore, unless I finally get on with making that Superhero au I said I would do a few months ago

Anyways

I’ve been working really hard on these designs, and some of them are probably the best I’ve ever made! So I really hope you like them!

Liana

(A few years down the road, the watcher genes started to become more prominent. The extra pairs of wings and the eye change are just the beginning too! Her color palette is kinda a mess but it’s just how she rolls. Top hat with goggles and a corset because Steampunk vibes are cool. Also her Flyguy bow, just in case)

Parrot pal has successfully started her own business, where she sells everything from deep slate to gold to clothing and mercenary jobs. The wider the spread, the better the bread

Lives very close to the shopping district, to keep an eye on her shops

The Watcher thing sure is…interesting. Grian hasn’t told her the full story, so she isn’t sure exactly what she is but she knows that it’s something unworldy

Is still learning to disguise it

Has a fierce rivalry with Mumbo over trying to become the riches hermit. Mumbo had no idea this rivalry is happening

She’s bestie with her little brother, Grumbot Prime

Wes

(Golden boy. His Hc and current design has a lot of similarities, mainly because when it comes to change he likes to take things slow. Got a haircut tho, plus many tattoos and a circlet to represent his status as the son of the sun god (Tho who knows how true that actually is). Also has a skull ring, in honor of Jekiv)

Baby boy is doing fine. Mostly

Is decked out in gold because again, he loves to mine, and gold is his favorite ore

Lost part of his ear and hearing in a creeper explosion, least favorite of his scars

Has improved his self confidence greatly over the years, which in turn improved his relationship with his dad

(Side note, I can imagine Xisuma whitelisting like a therapist or something just because these three, especially Wes, has some things to work through)

Is actually an extremely skilled farm creator, just like his other dad

Spends a lot of time trying to find a way to fix their code so they can leave and rejoin servers

Gertrude

(Total princess warrior vibes for her. Wanted her to be a mixture of Butch and femme, in the weirdest way possible. She’s now also wearing shoes! I wanted her to have heels alright? Her soles eventually got worn out so she’s wearing a pair of boots)

One of the best warriors on Empires SMP

Used to have separate outfits for being a monster hunter and being a noble, but eventually just combined the two to make her life easier

(Eddie made her armor, she’s very grateful)

The armor had to be made fireproof, because despite being older she still scuffles playfully with Johnny

She went through quite a large number of weapons before settling on the mace. It just, “fit her”

Also very few people can actually lift her mace, because it’s extremely heavy.

Sometimes helps out fWhip in Gobland with redstone, just because it’s fun. She enjoys the challenges that he presents to her

Wants to someday face ten withers and take down them all. Until then, she will train with all her might

Johnny

(My friend told me he looked evil lol. Ran out of cowboy outfits a long time ago, so here’s a more outlaw vibey one. The goggles and scarf are to protect his face from sand though, so likes there’s a reason lol. Butternut stands proud at the scene as well)

Despite his outer appearance, he’s still the nice lad you all know and love

He is more of a free roamer nowadays though, mostly traveling the mesa around Tumble Town, sometimes even beyond it

After Liana left for Empires, Johnny started helping Pix out with his excavations

When there’s word of a new discovery far away from any of the empires, you can bet your ass that Johnny is he first man on the case

And sure, he caaaaaaaaaaan use his elytra and get there in maybe half a day, but that beats the point of traveling!

An absolute expert at dealing with mobs at this point, especially creepers. Goes fucking crazy with that whip of his

Despite it all, he’s still a simple country bumpkin at heart, who likes his breakfast early and his music country

Jassy

(Queen is extremely anime. I just searched “anime ninja female” and tried to get general style of outfit correct. Her hair was almost impossible, but looking on it now it looks fantastic. Her daggers are also enchanted, that’s why they’re purple lol)

Jassy is a trophy wife and she takes her job very seriously

She does know her way around redstone, and she ain’t a bad builder (She’s the one who made her and Liana’s base), but her wife is out making bank while she takes care of their many, many cats

The mercenary part of Double Co. is her entirely though.

The story behind her damaged eye is a mystery to all, as every time someone asks about it she makes up some new fantastical tale

In reality she was flipping her daggers while laying down on the ground, then accidentally dropped one. It ain’t as cool as fighting an alligator, or taking down twenty wardens at once though

Jekiv

(Glow up of the fucking century my dude. He ain’t abandoning his love for pastels anytime soon, but that almost makes him more scary. Exchanged his old staff for a scythe just for the aesthetic. If you look closely at the hand holding the scythe, you can see a golden ring)

*Becomes a mass murderer* ~Character development~

He’s still not a full fledged necromancer yet, though he can summon entire corpses now. Actually getting them to do his bidding is another thing

The squirrel on his shoulders is named Chimp. She’s his familiar, and she’s thirsty for blood

Has spent nearly four years trying to solve the mystery of The Evermoore, but hasn’t come out with much result

Did find out he has no soul, or at least not a traditional one, so that’s neat!

Existential crisis aside, Jekiv is also trying to figure out a way for their code to be fixed.

Novo

(Pov: Ur about to want and rip your ears off. Hat decorated, coat fluffy, heels fucking iconic, my man has the drip. A weird drip, but the drip nonetheless. And after all these years, he still does the ruined makeup look. Some things never change)

Switched to playing the bagpipe, because those things are both loud and difficult to learn to play. Novo does not know how to play, but that doesn’t stop him one bit

Best big brother to Oli’s child, and with that I mean the absolute worst influence a child could ask for

Actually managed to reconcile with Scott, despite all odds. It’s not a perfect father-son relationship, but like none of them have that so it’s fine

Wears a lot of pink partly to match with Gert, and partly because it’s a loud and obnoxious color, so it garners attention

The wealthiest of all the kids, just by people paying him to leave him Tf alone

There’s some fic ideas I still have with the kids, plus maybe the fourth series will give me some new material, but these are probably the final designs I will make for them.

[sunbadger]

Dalia Bauer - doomed by fate

"I’m not sure I'd want to start a family, but I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like. Or, more realistically - just to see the world next year."

The promising candidate who would later be sacrificed to pass her power down to Bertholdt.

A young girl with an absent father and a mother sentenced to Paradis, holding no hope of survival without the role of a warrior. A spreading infection in her mother’s leg and lack of funds led them to the streets, where necessities were scarce. Their only consistent supply of food came from abandoned plates in restaurants, the garbage outside, and rare gifts from passersby. A bad habit, partly led by greed, partly led by desperation, led them to a life of thievery. The young girl became a con artist and a thief, granting herself some coins, luxuries and jewelry from unsuspecting crowds.

It was no surprise when her mother was arrested, followed shortly by herself. They had gotten just a little too greedy, a little too desperate, and stolen more and more accessories of gold and silver. For a few weeks before the arrest, her mother was able to afford new rags and fresh food, and even made them feel pretty with rings on their fingers and necklaces hanging down their collarbones. For a short while, the young girl was treated to a taste of freedom - one which she would never forget.

Dalia never saw her mother be turned into a titan. An older man dressed in uniform had stopped her as she waited in line to be transported to the outer wall. He was rough with her, and both Dalia and her mother were screaming to give her back, but once she had calmed down, he dropped her off at the military training facility. Like a disposable doll, she was thrown to the ground, dirtying the clothes her mother had gotten for her. She was not very talkative, and refused to speak to the general - but the cop must have put in a good word for her, or perhaps provided an ultimatum. Since she was so young, she would be easy to train for the new warrior program, and if it didn’t work out, there was no such thing as too many suicide bombers. Since she lacked both the strength and the motivation to fight back, the choice was simple. The general took her in and told her to show him what she was capable of. 

Looking back, Dalia believes that cop was attempting to save her life - and like the survivor she is, she took the chance. She never had much worth fighting for other than the, perhaps egotistical, desire to stay alive. It rarely crossed her mind that she was training to take the lives of other beings. Her eyes were constantly focused on what was ahead, whether it was the track she had to run or the targets she had to shoot, the ceremony granting her the Colossal, and the fields she had to burn. When she transformed, the grass turned black, falling trees turned to ashes, and the ground warped under her feet. Entire ecosystems being destroyed meant that a roof, a warm dinner and a soft bed were awaiting her return. It was horrifying - but also so beautiful.

Next time I will write more about her life as a warrior and what led to her death, as well as the AU where she survives and goes on to infiltrate the walls. This is a draft so nothing is really final. Her character has some inconsistencies and things that could be improved upon which i'll think about. (but this is mainly just for fun, of course). In the future I'll consider writing a fanfiction featuring her.

thanks for reading if you got this far lmao! feel free to leave some feedback.