#balcony above front entry

[gallifreyfallsnomorre]

Pathway - Traditional Landscape Photo of a large traditional front yard garden path.

[webslingingslasher]

jbae!! if you're taking requests, can I ask for something with trouble comforting peter? maybe he's had a terrible week and loads of things pile up and he just collapses (maybe he even cries out of frustration cause I'm a sucker for that) and trouble just holds him to her chest and runs her hands through his hair 🥺 only if you want to though!! have a great day ily

*you always ask when peter knows he's in love with trouble...* (cleaning out my drafts)

peter's been m.i.a. all day.

rumor is he skipped class and slept past breakfast... and lunch. the unanswered texts you have string along with the theory. you were talking to peter last night so you don't think he's sick, at least not with a cold.

he'd been pulling back the last few days because he's been so busy. you haven't seen him in three days because of a test or a frat meeting or dinner with his aunt - in your opinion, he's spread a little too thin and you think that caught up to him today.

if peter can cut class and hang out at the frat house so can you. unsure if he's taking another nap. you're not risking a phone call that'll wake him and settle for a quiet entry with slow steps up the stairs before silently opening his door and sliding in.

peter's not asleep; he's awake and staring at his ceiling. he knows you're here but he can't bring himself to make believe happy. so he doesn't.

you softly shut his door and rest your back on it. 'do you have a case of the sads?' peter stays in his starfish position for way too long, you think he's building the courage to speak for the first time today. when he does, it's raspy and riddled with depression.

'i have a case of the sads.' even saying it makes him want to curl into a ball. it's times like this he wishes he was home and still small enough to crawl into his aunt's bed.

you've never seen peter this depleted, all spark in him has fizzled. 'do you want to cuddle?' you don't need to ask what's wrong, you already know. and you're getting the feeling he really just wants silent company.

peter sits up to open the space next to him, he's not moving until you're settled because he's about to rest his entire weight on you. the second you steal his spot, he lays on top and buries his face into you while you warmly accept the pressure.

peter only hides in you like this when he's sick or really tired. you don't say anything while you gently tuck a curl behind his ear, you lightly smile and graze the outer edge with your finger- a small twitch tells you he doesn't like it.

normally, you'd double down. today, he needs nice.

'you have cute ears.' it's barely above a whisper, 'i should see them more often.' peter doesn't respond, you didn't need him to.

it's a peaceful quiet, you think it's nice just being in peter's presence sometimes. you keep dragging your hand up and down his back, you're trying to tell him he's okay with your touch. your other combs through his hair over and over, you think he might be falling asleep and you gladly welcome it.

you're not sure how peter's breathing he's tucked into your chest so tight, but as long as he's able to you won't complain. you start to trace little squares over his skin while slightly zoning out on a bird on his balcony collecting what looks like twigs from the overhanging tree.

your shirt feels like it's clinging to you, peter's washing his hot breath into it. you change your shapes to squiggles. the bird hops around, another twig is scooped up. you glance down at your chest and stop your hands.

it's not just choked breath.

'are you crying?'

the floodgates burst.

peter digs into you, holding you so tight you almost wheeze. his shoulders shake as he sobs into you, your heart shatters as he breaks down. peter's never cried in front of you and it's fucking terrible to see.

you don't know what to do, you just act on instinct and try to wrap your arms around him like he always does to you. it always makes you feel protected and secure, it makes you feel like peter's a safe place and nothing can hurt you in his hold.

'you're okay, petey.' you're saying it for the both of you. 'you're okay.' peter thrashes his head back and forth, he doesn't agree. you steady him and say it again. 'you're okay, i promise you're okay.'

it's a little weak because you don't feel like you're fixing much but it always helps when peter says it.

'i'm here. you're gonna be okay because i'm here.' you hear a trumpet in your mind when peter crawls further up to tuck his head under your chin. it's working, you're doing good.

peter's never cried in front of a girl before. his aunt doesn't count and neither does- he doesn't let his mind go there, he's already spirling hard enough.

but you're warm and soft and really fucking loving and it's making him cry harder because it's all he wanted today and you showed up with an abundance of it.

you're crushed at the sound, if you could suffocate the sad out of him you would've already done it. 'please don't throw yourself into a panic attack.' he wasn't going to, but now that you said it he thinks he's approaching that territory quickly.

you can sense it too. you press him closer and breathe deep, his head sinks with your chest. 'do one with me.' it's weak and followed by a cough.

'one more.' he mimics you, it's better this time. peter does the third on his own, you praise him with a back rub. 'see? you're okay.' the smallest of nods, a short stutter of breath and he's sniffling to hold more in.

'let it out. you broke yourself to get to this point, let it out.' it's another wave but it's not as brutal, it's bordering on the verge of pitiful. 'you're not allowed to do this to yourself anymore, peter. i didn't say anything but next time i will. you can't stretch yourself like this, it isn't healthy.'

'i'm sorry.' he doesn't know if he's sorry for crying or for making you care this much. it's a blanket statement, he thinks. you won't let it be one. 'don't you dare say sorry. there's nothing to be sorry about.'

peter can't fathom why, but he almost spews out an i love you and it terrifies him. he feels it in his chest, there's a level of care and affection you're giving him that he's never had before. if he knew he was dying, he'd do it right here in your arms.

peter's never felt safe in another person's hold before. you'd protect him at all costs, even from himself and you just proved it. he needs to see you, he needs to see the face he calls home. he needs you to smile softly at him like he's your world because he promises this time he'd do the same.

you do exactly what he wishes and he feels a pang to his heart when you lightly wipe under his cheeks. 'are you all cried out? if not i'll bully you into more.' god, he wants to swarm you with a thousand kisses.

'i'm okay now.' he hovers over you, an arm on each side of your head. you accept a tiny kiss where your neck and collarbone meet, it's a delicate marking. 'good, you needed it. you also need to eat, and please tell me you had some water today. i'll make you anything you want, or i'll buy you dinner- anything you want, you deserve good things when you have a case of the sads.'

you don't recognize the look on peter's face but it makes you a little self-conscious, you might be a tad overbearing. 'why are you looking at me like that? am i being a little over the top?'

he's still wearing it. 'not at all.' you feel good about it, you're sticking to your guns about standing up to him if you need to. 'okay, good, because even if you said i was, i wouldn't care. i know you're mr. big strong tough man but i swear you need someone to check you sometimes because you get-'

'i really need to kiss you right now.'

you stop yourself and blink at his words. 'oh.' your cheeks feel warm, you nod one time before peter's pressing his bottom lip to your top one and lowering himself until his chest brushes yours.

it's a different kind of kiss, there's nothing behind it except just wanting to do exactly as he said. a cluster of pecks before he pulls back to look at you, you can't place what he's thinking.

'what?' peter shakes his head before going in for another, after the third time he'd failed to remove himself from you, you stop him. 'i don't care how many times you kiss me, mister. you're not getting anything until i see you eat something.'

funny. your request just makes him want to kiss you more. 

[lady-phasma]

In the fading light

Daemon Targaryen x fem Dornish!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, but I was going for soft!Daemon so I don't think there are that many warnings this time.

Summary: Daemon comes to visit you at Godsgrace, the seat of House Allyrion, in Dorne. Kind of an AU in the sense that Rhaenyra isn't the object of his love, nor his motivation for "ending his marriage" to Rhea. 2.6k words

From the request here - romantic Daemon inspired by the song "kalam eineh" (Words of his eyes) by Sherine. I was able to work in a few lyrics as well ("the one whose eyes the moon envied" and "get lost in his beauty").

a/n: Dorne is a very big place and all of the houses are as different as the Northern houses. So as I write more Dornish!reader fics I start to see them uniquely in my headcanon. Godgrace is on a river from what my research tells me, so I think it worked out perfectly that Sherine is Egyptian. I've dropped some Egyptian elements into Godsgrace and that's how it is in my head now. (If there was a face claim for a location think Thebes/Luxor landscape.)

A warm breeze wafted onto the balcony where you and Daemon sat. The sun sank low against the horizon. The river in the distance shone with golds and pinks. A falcon screeched nearby. You turned from the gorgeous view of the Godsgrace river oasis to look at your Prince. He sat, reclined, opposite you. You slid your toes up the inside of his leg, teasing him. He stroked the top of your foot, your ankle, up your shin. Your smooth skin reflected the light of the setting sun much as the river did. Daemon slipped his fingertips under the hem of your thin skirt. The contrast of his pale hand under the bronze fabric was delightful to you. This Northern prince, so accustomed to clouds and darkness. Such a dreary land he came from.

You watched him as he looked out over the Greenblood river. It would be so easy to get lost in his beauty. His hair, his eyes, his mouth, everything about him was entrancing to you. You glanced back out at the river, the people going about their evening paying no attention to the lords and ladies so high above them. Birds circled above fishing boats as the nets were pulled in. Lights began to flicker in windows across the city. You smelled roasted meat and fresh baked bread on the warm air. You would have to dress for the evening meal, if you didn’t request it in your quarters.

“Did you come only because the fool Prince Martell forbade it?” You were genuinely curious. “Or because of your brother?”

“You know that is not the reason,” he spoke softly and continued to stroke your leg. “Their approval means less to me than you think.”

“You risk much coming to Godsgrace.” You wiggled your toes against his thigh.

“It is a fair price,” Daemon replied.

“Surely you are quite rested now, my love,” you goaded. “It is a long journey up the Greenblood, but not so tiring that you would ignore me.” You flashed your eyes at him. They were nearly the color of burnt umber in the fading light. Soon your maids would light torches and candles in your chambers. You would hear them through the diaphanous curtains that hung in the entry of the balcony. Though they would never dare to disturb you, even if you had your Targaryen on the floor in front of them.

Daemon turned his violet eyes toward you, finally pulled from his thoughts. Gods, you thought, even the moon could envy those eyes! The last pink of the sunset caught on his silver hair as it swung freely about his face, tendrils caught in the breeze.

“Quite rested,” he smirked as he spoke. He slipped his hand behind your knee and, reaching forward, grabbed your other leg and pulled you, bodily, to him. Your chair legs screeched against the stone floor as you threw your head back and laughed. When he had you where he wanted you, he smoothed his palms up the inside of your thighs. You rested your bare feet on the seat of his chair on either side of his legs. He pushed your skirt all the way up to your waist as he stared into your eyes. His thumbs grazed the creases of your thighs and you sighed.

“The journey was too long, but certain hindrances are now resolved,” his voice was low and quiet. “I am no longer married.”

You raised an eyebrow at these words. You trailed your fingertips down one of his forearms.

“I hope that it was painless, my prince,” you both knew the mocking of his title was not malicious. He was not your prince and you enjoyed reminding him of that. “You know, you could have stayed in Godsgrace and I could have sent one of my women to dispatch the issue quickly.” Your grin was knowing, yet seductive. Daemon’s response to Northern morality was curious to you. He didn’t want his wife, but could not bring himself to have another while she lived.

“I did not say I did the deed,” he tried not to smile. “Only that it was resolved.” Oh, he was deliciously vile when it suited him. You chuckled at this.

“Well, I had no trouble with the situation,” you grazed his thigh with one foot. “I needed only your devotion, not your marriage.”

“That you will always have, my lady,” he replied as he sank to his knees in front of you. You moved your foot to his shoulder, the other still in his chair, as you languidly spread your legs to make room for him. He looked up at you again, catching your eyes with his as he kissed your thigh, then your belly. You stroked one hand over his silky head as he lowered it and kissed the dark hair between your legs. You heard him inhale, smelling you, and you became even wetter.

Daemon licked the full length of your slit and paused at your pearl. He circled it with the tip of his tongue and you gripped the arms of your chair. He slid an arm around one thigh to steady you. Then he grazed a finger through your folds, finding your entrance quickly, as if he knew your geography by heart. He teased and didn’t slide inside you yet. He used two fingers to circle your opening, almost matching the rhythm of his tongue on your clit. Your hips rocked. You tried, and failed, to get his fingers inside. He stilled you as much as he could and continued for a moment that felt like an eternity.

When he finally slipped his fingers into your wet heat he sucked on your clit and your hands flew to the back of his head. You moaned and pushed against his mouth. You thought you felt him chuckle. You didn’t care. You ground your hips on his mouth and fingers.

“Daemon,” you whispered, as that was as loud as you could manage. “That’s it, just there. Please.”

He rubbed his fingertips against the spot that drove you wild, fighting against your clenching muscles. His tongue resumed its circling movements, but with a slightly quicker pace. Your breathing was becoming shallow and the sounds you made came deep from your chest. He pumped his fingers harder into you, knowing the pressure you needed to reach your climax. Your toes curled on his shoulder. You let go of his head, gripped the arms of your chair again, and your body curled forward as your climax overwhelmed you. You yelled his name, moaned incoherently, and then laughed. He hadn’t stopped, tongue still lapping causing your thighs to twitch. You playfully pushed at his forehead to give you peace.

You leaned forward and cupped his face in your hands. His expression wasn’t playful, as yours was. The look was full of something akin to admiration. You kissed him, roughly. You licked yourself from his lips, his tongue, and moaned into his mouth. He reached up and tangled his fingers into your hair at the nape of your neck, letting some of it loose from the pins that held it in place. Without much grace, he blindly began to release your hair from its confines.

Daemon broke your kiss and began to stand up. You let your fingers trail down his body as he did. You grazed your fingers over his pants, deliberately avoiding the hardness straining the fabric. He pulled pins and a comb from your hair, tossing them on the floor with abandon. You looked up at him, a playfully displeased look on your face for the carelessness he showed for your jewelry, and shook out your hair. It fell in near-black waves down your shoulders and back.

“I need you,” Daemon breathed. His eyes were dark with lust. Still looking up at him from your chair, you pressed your palm over his erection. His eyes nearly closed. His chest rose and fell, trying to maintain his composure. You pressed just a little harder. He grabbed your wrists. It didn’t hurt but made it evident that he couldn’t be teased this evening. You stood, your wrists still in his hands. You raised to tiptoes and pulled at his bottom lip with your teeth. Your eyes narrowed in defiance against being so restrained.

“That’s enough!” He threw you over his shoulder. You squealed and laughed, kicking your feet and pounding your fists lightly against his back. Your laughter bounced off the stone walls as he carried you through the curtains into your chambers. You pushed against him, raising your head to look at the two startled maids, and laughed harder.

“Let me go!” You giggled and kicked your feet but he only held your ankles as he walked you to the bed. You heard the two girls scamper from the room, giggling and twittering.

Daemon dropped you lightly on the bed. You were breathless from laughing. He smiled down at you, but that look was back. What had changed since he had gone North? Your laughter faded into giggles, which in turn faded into quick breaths as he knelt on the bed and kissed his way up your feet, calves, and thighs. He began to unfasten the ties of your skirt at your waist and you helped him with the small buttons of your delicate top.

He licked and kissed the curves of your exposed belly. He nuzzled his nose between your breasts, then kissed each of your nipples. You played with his silky hair, enjoying watching him worship you. When he reached your neck and jaw you began tugging on his shirt, pulling it toward his shoulders. He straightened long enough pull it over his head, then bent down to your mouth again. You kissed him back, hands gripping his neck, stroking his shoulders, down his biceps.

Daemon moved with you, still kissing, as you began to sit up. You gently pressed his shoulders back and guided him to lay down. You straddled his thighs and began pulling at the laces of his pants. He groaned at the pressure of your fingers. You stroked his freed cock, watching your hands move slowly. You enjoyed making him wait but you couldn’t wait any longer. You released him and begin to remove his breeches. Once you had both struggled with that for a moment, you trying not to giggle during the endeavor, you climbed up him and placed yourself on his belly. You could feel his cock pressing against your buttocks. You leaned forward and kissed him and he cupped both of your breasts in his hands.

You lifted your hips enough to reach between you and guide him into your wetness. He growled and squeezed your breasts a bit harder. Slowly, you took him inside you. You raised up, allowing him to keep his hands on you, and pressed your hands against his stomach as you rocked your hips. You took his cock as deep as you could. Gradually, at first, then setting a gentle pace that brought sweet sounds from Daemon’s lips. You leaned forward slightly, finding the angle you needed. He moved his hands, one to your neck, one to your hip. As you settled on a rhythm, he began to match you, thrusting upward slightly each time you rocked back on his cock.

You let your head fall forward, you hair sweeping forward, framing your face and his. Your fingers curled against his chest. You kept this pace as long as you could before your cunt began to ache with the beginnings of your climax. You slowed and Daemon took over. Gripping both of your hips, he fucked up into you, harder than you had been able to manage. His grunts made you squeeze around his cock. They were wonderful sounds that only increased your need for him.

You rested your face against his, pressing your cheeks together. Neither of you could stay quiet. Your name fell from his lips as fluidly as the curses he uttered. His fingers dug into your hips as he pulled you down onto each of his upward thrusts. The sound of flesh against flesh, lewd and satisfying. Your bodies glistened with sweat in the torch light. You wanted to open your eyes and look at him but the pleasure was too great.

“Yes, please, Daemon,” you whined in his ear. Your lips drug across his cheek as you searched for his mouth. You tried to kiss him. Instead you panted and moaned against his mouth. As your climax began the wave that would drown you, you heard his voice, much calmer than yours could have been in that moment.

“Look at me.” You did. He didn’t stop fucking you, but he held your gaze with those perfect eyes. “I love you. I would kill for you. I would kill anyone who kept us apart.”

Something in his eyes, not just his words, was your undoing. Your climax spread over you at the same time as it curled up inside you. You squeezed your thighs against his hips, almost stopping his movements entirely. You bent to him and kissed him, moaning and sighing, as you came.

Suddenly Daemon’s large arms encircled you and in your delirium you could hardly notice that he was moving you. You clung to his shoulders as he somehow, and gracefully, managed to lay you on your back. He had not pulled out. You wrapped your legs around his hips and ran your hands into his hair.

Daemon fucked you without restraint. You were coming down from your climax but your cunt gripped him tight and he grunted with each deep thrust. He shifted his weight to one hand and deftly scooped one of your legs into the crook of his arm. You bit your lower lip and looked up at him. He was watching you.

“Touch yourself,” he panted. “Come on my cock again.” His smile was enough to convince you, if his words hadn’t been.

So you did. You rubbed your fingers quickly, and in time with his strokes. When you were close again, you arched under him, head thrown back, Daemon’s mouth on your exposed neck. Then he pressed his hips against you as hard as he could. His cock buried completely inside you as he came. Your cunt spasmed around him and you both felt his seed fill you as your climax peaked. He cursed and tried to gently lower your leg. Your body shook and you were unable to help him. He chuckled and kissed your forehead.

As he slowly pulled out and away from you, you mewled and groaned, closing your thighs and squeezing them together. Daemon lowered himself down next to you, on his side. He rested his head on your chest. You smoothed his hair away from his forehead in a long stroke down to his back and sighed. You let your hand rest on his shoulder. He held you close to him.

The cool night breeze wicked the sweat off your skin. The torches guttered slightly. You wrapped one leg over Daemon’s. You wanted every part of your body touching his. You breathed in his smell mixed with your own and the dusty sweetness of Godsgrace coming in through the curtains.

“No one will come between us,” Daemon whispered against you.

“I know, my love, my dragon” you replied, lips brushing against the top of his head.

The sun had set and, perhaps, the dark was what he needed. In the light of day The Rogue Prince was rakish and disreputable. But at night, with you, he could shed that facade.

Masterlist

Tags: @black-dread

[thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos]

Anchored

2003 Raphael x GN reader aged up (Raph is 23-24)

soft, fluffy comfort fic with my fav turt

idiots in love, friends to lovers, tooth rotting fluff

It was another rough night at work, and the ride home on the subway only added to your sour mood as the man from a few seats down took it upon himself to slide into the empty spot next to you, striking up an unwanted conversation as you cursed your earlier self for forgetting your headphones at home this afternoon.

As the doors opened and you stepped off the platform, you made a quick bolt up the stairs and out to the city streets above, the twinkling of the buildings and signs overhead illuminating your steps as you trekked the short distance to your apartment building.

New York City had a way of making you feel big and small at the same time; it was a city where anything could happen- but also, anything could happen.

Your subway experiences had been interesting lately since you started working later shifts, having sometimes uncomfortable encounters like the man today. His comments had left you feeling slimy, and after the day at work you just had- you really needed to go home and yell in a pillow.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you trodded down the sidewalk, and you smiled to yourself- knowing who it was without having to check.

Red <3: Night go ok?

A warmth crept over your face as you looked down at the screen. For a self-proclaimed tough guy, he always made sure to check up on you when you weren't there.

Despite his posturing in front of his brothers that he didn't really care.

You shot a quick text back to your friend before sliding the keys into your front door as you unlocked the bolt and stepped inside, flicking on the light with a lazy motion as you unloaded your bag and coat by the entry way.

The couch groaned under you as you flopped onto the cushions face first, sighing heavily into the fabric.

Today sucked.

Your manager at work had been even worse today, hovering over the employees as the team prepped for a visit from corporate. Everyone had been on edge because of it- and it all could've been avoided if your dirtbag manager just got their crap together.

But no.

Your phone vibrated again, and you fished it from your pocket as you sat up from the cushions.

Red <3: Home yet?

Raphael always had a way of just knowing with you.

You had been friends with the turtles for years, but what you and the red-banded ninja shared was, well...it was special.

It was a friendship forged in unconditional trust and understanding; ever since that first night that he had found you crying on your roof- and you had cussed him out for seeing you like that.

You could be open with Raph; and despite the fronts you put up around other people, you could let down the wall in front of each other and just be yourselves.

You could talk about things, feel things-

It was safe.

The tap at your window came quicker than you expected.

He must've had a bad day too.

You walked the short distance to the window, unlatching it and pushing the heavy frame up with a shove as a green, scaled mutant turtle peeked out from the darkness from your balcony.

"...Hey."

A soft chuckle was heard in the silence between you.

"...Hey, Raph."

You took a few steps backwards, giving him space to step into the warmth of your apartment as you grabbed him a beer from your fridge.

He looked down at the bottle as you offered it to him, something warm flickering across his eyes for a brief moment before the thought was interrupted by your question.

"So....tough day?"

He popped the cap off as he answered, shaking his head.

"Ah, nah." You watched as he sauntered over to the couch, sitting down with a flop as the furniture groaned under his weight in protest. He gave you a lopsided grin. "I could jus tell ya had a shit day, figured ya'd want to let off some steam or some shit."

Your head cocked to the side as a confused look crawled over your face, and you pulled your phone back out of your pocket to look at your text to him.

I'm fine.

Ah.

Yeah.

He knew you better than that.

His deep voice brought your attention back to his smug face, seemingly satisfied with himself as he took a long swig from the bottle while he watched you.

"So- what's goin on, slugger?"

You sat down on the couch and laid your head onto his lap, sighing loudly.

"It was just work, man. It sucks. I-..I just fucking hate it."

Raphael nodded behind you, and you feel a tridactyl hand lightly settle onto your shoulder, rubbing gentle circles in the comforting way that only he can do.

"Yeah, that's gotta blow."

Your hands comes to rest on his thigh, fingers feeling the scaled surface of his pebbled skin underneath your fingertips as you continue.

"I just...I just wish that I could just hide here, you know? Like never deal with people ever again."

He laughs above you, and you turn over your shoulder to lie on your back, gazing up at him with an amused look on your face.

"What, Raphie?"

He rolls his eyes, but the smirk doesn't leave.

"Was just thinkin you'd be lonely, that's all."

A quiet laugh slips out of your throat, smile playing at your lips.

"I wouldn't be lonely- you're all I need, really."

He huffs under his breath. "Yeh, ok. Whatever."

"I mean it, Raph. You're all I need."

Raphael's smile slowly fades from his face, the bottle slipping out of his grip as it falls to the floor with a soft thunk; his hands reaching down to grab your face as he stares at you, eyes wide.

Paralyzed.

"Raph...? Are you-"

"What- whaddya mean-"

His eyes search yours as he cuts off your words, his heartbeat picking up and pounding so loudly you can feel it through his plastron as you lay in his lap.

You can feel the warmth spread over your cheeks, traveling down your chest. "I...what do you mean..?"

The tempo of your heart matches his as your gazes remain locked; neither of you wanting to admit, to move forward.

Not wanting to admit to something that you've danced around for for years.

Or wanting to ruin a friendship that's kept you both above water.

You can't imagine a life without Raphael.

And this might ruin everything.

You hear the low growl in his throat as his hands tense against your face.

"Fuck it."

Your breath catches in your throat as his head dips down, lips descending upon yours, urgent and demanding, as if he's been starving. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his mask tails, gripping and pulling him closer as your lips crash and part like waves against the shore.

Everything is vibrating, ringing.

This is happening.

Holy shit, this is happening.

You groan softly into the kiss, your hand coming up to hold his against your face as you kiss him back, fiercely.

In a blink of stiffened muscles and chests heaving, Raph tenses and pulls back slightly, his breath hot and uneven against your skin as you both pant in the small space between you; neither of you sure-

Of anything.

For a moment his gaze searches yours, something swirling in the depths of his eyes.

You've seen that look before.

You trail your fingers up, tracing the curves of his face, feeling the tension there as he watches you; apprehension clear on both of your faces for a brief second before you take a deep breath.

The wall can come down.

Raphael is safe.

He won't hurt you; he'll always be here for you.

Pulling him back down by his mask tails, you brush your lips against his once more, a gentle promise there as he releases a ragged sigh, melting into the kiss; the world around you spinning at the sensation.

As the two of you remain anchored together.

Always.

boopin the pals: @thelaundrybitch @sophiacloud28 @zombiesnips-blog @4evrdreamin5 @gornackeaterofworlds @the-cauldron-witch @pheradream-15 @iridescentflamingo @scholastic-dragon

let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list! 18+

[wito-chan-bla-bla]

I'm so thankful to find your blog especially since your Kalego fics are so awesome. Will it be possible to ask for a Kalego x Humanf reader something along the lines of something happening to the reader and Kalego needing to protect this weak and fragile human. I'm so sorry if you don't take requests! Also if you are busy then take as much time as you want! no rush whatsoever :) Thank yooouuuuuu

You knew it would happen sooner or later. You were surrounded by so many powerful demons, one of them definitely had to know that you were a human! And yet you were hoping that Balam or Dali would call you for a "serious conversation", but definitely not someone who can eat you up and not even choke!

You were shivering, but not from the wind and cold, even though you were on one of the school's open balconies. You couldn't even escape, because there is free air space on the side and back, and in front was your possible nightmare. Yes, if you were a demon, you would have been flying in the opposite direction from where Kalego was standing. But you're not a demon. You are a human being.

You ended up in the demon world on purpose. Even though you didn't think that ritual would work, you didn't say no when the demon Sullivan appeared and asked you to go with him. It looked like his grandson needed company.

In any case, no one is interested in the story of your entry into the demon world. It is much more important that you are ready to choose between your colleague and the infinitely fast flight of a stone down... the second.

You had a... strange relationship with Kalego. First you were afraid of him, then you respected him, then you were afraid of him again, then you admired him, then you were afraid of him… In short, he was the demon you couldn't help but be afraid of. He was strong, and he knew it. He did not hide behind smiles and playful phrases. He was serious and ready to jump into a fight if something happened.

This may have attracted you. Despite the rather cold attitude at first, Kalego was ready to teach you how to be a good teacher. He patiently explained everything you needed to know. It was even cute if you listened carefully, memorized everything the first time, and didn't ask stupid questions. And you didn't do it.

You even started to have some common interests with him! You were interested in absolutely everything in Hell, even the cute little cacti that Kalego grew. When the demon brought small potted flowers and proudly said they were "the little children of his primary child," you asked sheepishly if you could take one. Naberius looked at you for a long time, and then gave you a long lecture on how to take care of plants, and made you promise to take care of the cactus.

But at the same time, you couldn't get rid of the feeling of fear that blooms in you every few weeks. Perhaps if you were a demon like him, you wouldn't be so afraid. But you were human, so just the thought that he could tear you to pieces in a second made you mentally scream and cry.

Besides, the problem was that you were very weak. Weaker than the average person. You won't even be able to escape from it!

W-what are my last wishes?.. I c-can't even think about it…

You were shaking, feeling that you were about to die not from the demon's claws, but from a heart attack. Your face paled, and you all shrank like raisins. If you were asked whether you want to be on the training ground now or stay here, you would choose the former.

Kalego silently looked you over with his heavy gaze, and you swallowed. F-for now... peace. And I just thought that my life was finally getting better!..

You screamed so loudly when something heavy landed on you that you could even shout above the wind. You squeezed your eyes shut, ready to attack, but suddenly realized that the heavy object wasn't a weapon, Cerberion's claws, or a demon's hand. Was it... soft and fluffy?

You looked down and stared at your own shoulders, where an expensive-looking fur cape rested. You were opening your mouth to say something when suddenly the hood was thrown over your head and all the buttons were fastened, making it impossible for you to move.

He wants to steal me and eat me somewhere else!

You jumped up and down, but suddenly Kalego put his hands on your shoulders and forced you to turn around to face him. His eyes never softened or showed positive emotions, so there was no miracle this time either!

You felt heavy breathing on your face and knew that this was the end!..

–W-wait! – you screamed with all your might, feeling that you were starting to cough. You seem to have a cold. But what's the difference? You'll be eaten anyway! – B–before you do that, l-let me leave a last note! And, p-please bite me right in the carotid artery so that I die as soon as possible!..

Kalego suddenly tensed up, and you screamed in your head. M-I will be killed slowly and painfully!..

–What have you done, (Y/N), if I have to kill you? Did you fill out the paperwork incorrectly?!

–N-no, I did al-ll the reports right! I ev-ven double-checked them several times!

–That's great. So why should I kill you? Especially if I stick my fangs in your neck.

–B-because I'm human?..

It was... a mistake. You knew that as soon as you looked into the demon's eyes. They reflected a shock that seemed to break Naberius.

While Kalego was frozen in place and couldn't move, you quickly escaped from his grip and ran as fast as you could towards the exit. More precisely, you jumped, because the cape strongly constrained your movements. It wasn't that small, but it was heavy enough that you would have some difficulty moving around.

You somehow managed to open the door and ran out into the corridor. You threw off your clothes and ran towards the office belonging to Balam, but before you could run even one-eighth of the way, you sat down on the floor with incredible shortness of breath.

You've always been a weak person, and while looking for ways to heal your body, you decided to summon a demon... yes, it's a strange way to solve the problem, but let's not talk about it. Sullivan has agreed to help you, but only if you look after his "grandson" and keep an eye on some of the personalities at school. Well, you've kept your end of the bargain. All your major illnesses were cured, but you were still far from the physical state of a "standard person".

So you failed. Kalego literally caught up with you at a leisurely pace. You could hear his footsteps and feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You didn't want to cry, but you still sobbed in the middle of an empty hallway, as all the students had already gone home or were working in clubs.

You stare at the floor, watching the small drops fall on the wooden surface. Kalego didn't like crybabies, so you didn't want him to get angry before eating you.

When the demon stopped next to you, you wanted to ask him to do everything quickly, but you couldn't even get that out of yourself. You were ready to die, but suddenly Naberius picked you up in his arms, and you were almost in a second in one of the rooms in Royal One.

He threw you on the sofa, objects flew around the room. A minute passed, during which you were afraid to move, and then a cup of hot tea landed on the table in front of you, from which black steam was emitted.

Kalego landed in the chair across from you, and you might have thought he didn't hear what you said, but it was absolutely clear from the look on your face that he heard every part of your mistake.

–What are you doing? – he barked, and you almost fell off the couch. – You should drink your tea while it's hot. Do you want to get sick?! I've had enough of that time when you were lying in bed for two weeks after five minutes of standing on the street!

You sat down and touched the cup with trembling hands. A pleasant smell enveloped your nostrils and you swallowed.

The demon continued to stare at you with a hard stare.

–So... you're human?

–Y-you don't know? – you were shaking in a panic when he stared into your eyes. – I t-thought you knew! I t-thought you called me here to tell me I could dig my own grave with my own hands!

–I wanted to tell you I loved you!

–Wh-what?!

–What? – he looked at you not like a man in love, but like... your future homicidal maniac. – I needed to act quickly. Some of my colleagues, – he ground his teeth, – wanted to do it before I did. Of course, I would have preferred to invite you to a restaurant with good music and high-end food... but I didn't have the time. But it doesn't matter anyway, – his eye twitched as he looked at you. – (Y/N), you want to tell me that you're not just a weak demon, but a weak human, so the probability of you dying increases?! And yet you're constantly taking on a burden that some of my idiotic colleagues can't handle?!

You drank your tea in a hurry and hoped it was poison. There was a long lecture waiting for you, at the end of which you had to kiss Kalego so that he would stop scolding you, and after such an unexpected action on your part, you also fainted…

*+*

–What? Did she go into the woods? Alone?! – Kalego dug his fingernails into the table, leaving long footprints.

–I don't think it's such a big deal, – Shichiro shrugged. – Plus, she's with Iruma-kun and his friends. I think they're being protected by the Demon King, – Balan snorted. – So it's unlikely anything will happen to them.

–They may be protected by the Demon King, – Kalego began to speak and started walking towards the tent's exit, – but that doesn't mean he's protecting (Y/N)!

Naberius went outside and breathed in the fresh air. It's been a long time since he found out you were human. Kalego proved that his feelings were real, so he couldn't let his love do any hard work or risk herself. He'd rather die than break his promises... at least that kind of promise.

At the moment, the demons were in a "wilderness survival" class that lasted for several days. The camp was set up a long time ago, but the students had long since dispersed and explored nature. They could only return to the main camp if they were seriously injured or unable to handle the situation on their own.

"But they did something similar during Harvest Festival!" Well, that's true, but then they were in a controlled forest where there was a lot of food and relatively predators. Right now, they were surrounded by completely wild nature and quite strong monsters.

Even though the territory was still under the control of the demon teachers, the forest wasn't under their control. And so Kalego couldn't let you get hurt, much less die. You were weak even relative to other people. You wouldn't survive as a demon here for a day!

Naberius looked around the campsite, at the teachers who were giving advice to students who came to ask for help or receive medical treatment. Kalego froze for a second, and then Cerberion appeared next to him. The dog knew your scent very well (after spending a lot of time with you, it's impossible to forget that), so it instantly led its owner along the right route.…

Initially, you were just planning to take a walk with Iruma and his friends. Photos... more photos! Sullivan might not be able to attend these classes, but he wanted to see everything. So you were forced to work as a cameraman/photographer/babysitter and something else. But you didn't complain. At least it was all so funny and fun!..

And then you're suddenly lost and left in the middle of the forest with nothing but a camera…

You shivered as a light breeze brushed your skin. You were never a strong person... which is why you summoned a demon to help fix your health. Unfortunately, Sullivan didn't know how to do this completely, but he could show you the wonderful world of magic! You couldn't refuse!

If you knew there were so many dangers here, maybe you wouldn't have agreed… On the other hand, if you didn't go here, you wouldn't have met Kalego! So it wouldn't be so bad…

–Apchee!

You sighed and looked at the snot that was running out of your nose. Lowering the camera, you took out a napkin and quickly blew your nose. You could get sick from any little thing, which is why Kalego sometimes looked like an overprotective mom, and not like your partner.

You look around for Iruma and his friends. You were distracted by some bright berries, and the energetic children ran far away from you. You coughed a couple of times, feeling a slight sore throat. You opened your mouth to call out to them... but you definitely called out to the wrong person instead…

You sensed someone's presence and turned around. You turned your head... and saw a huge monster that clearly wanted to taste human flesh!

You swallowed and tightened your grip on the napkin. You tried to use the defensive artifact that Kalego gave you... but something told you that it would be better and safer to start running!

And so you did. You turned around, dropped your napkin, and ran as fast as you could from the monster that was already drooling. Remembering your PE lessons at school, you used all your strength to escape from danger as quickly as possible…

Except that you were still a weak, pathetic person, and your opponent was a huge monster that had more eyes than you had hair on your head, so you definitely wouldn't be able to run away from it. Even if you weren't... human.

Your breathing quickly faltered, your legs began to give out, and you almost fell several times. Cold air filled your lungs, causing you to cough more frequently, drawing the monster's attention. You could feel your heart beating fast somewhere near your temples. It took time to use the protection... you wouldn't have had time!..

The ground behind you shuddered, and you fell... straight into familiar hands. Turning your head slightly, you looked at the ground split in two. The monster growled and tried to get closer, but a single snap of his fingers caused it to bend under the Cerberion's claws.

You watched as the creature that tried to kill you... was destroyed by a huge amount of magic.

You were about to apologize for foolishly putting yourself in danger when Kalego pulled you closer to him and frowned. You could feel his entire body tense up. In the next second, he turned around and used magic, the lightning hit the monster that jumped out of nowhere.

–Looks like they have a better sense of smell than demons, – Kalego smiled wryly as he looked at the monsters. – They were able to smell the wonderful smell of human flesh... – you trembled at the words. – But I'll have to disappoint them, – the demon held out a hand, and the Cerberion opened all three of its mouths. – Because it belongs only to me!

The sounds of battle filled your ears. Roars, screams, more screams... you could hear Cerberion moving from side to side, lightning piercing the air... The unpleasant smell filled a small part of the forest, but Kalego pressed your face closer to him, so soon you stopped feeling anything with your nose.

The battle wasn't long. It just couldn't be that long. Naberius wouldn't let some pathetic monsters defeat him. Kalego leaned over and looked at you, and you heard a soft, relieved sigh. He gently lifted your head, holding your chin with two fingers…

–Where's your brain gone?

You felt your cheeks being squeezed hard by two fingers. You tried to get out of the demon's grip, but it was useless. Kalego put one hand on his belt, the other he continued to hold your face. You waved your arms, trying to get free, but it was all useless.

Naberius sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked at you, still trying to wriggle out of his grip, and then finally let go. You shouldn't have gone far. Kalego draped his warm cloak over you and then held you so close that you could hear the sound of his heartbeat.

In his arms, you finally feel the warmth you've been dreaming of for so long. Your light cloak definitely didn't save you from the coolness of the forest. It was safe and comfortable in his hands. You would give anything to continue to be embraced by this demon. And so that he does not go far away from you, you hugged him back, hugging his tall figure with your hands as much as possible.

He was a strong, high-ranked demon. You were a simple, weak person. Perhaps in another world, he and you were never meant to meet. But here and now, you and he are together... and both of you were fine with it.

You froze, feeling something approaching. No, not a monster or anything like that. You tried to restrain yourself... and then still coughed awkwardly into his clothes several times. Naberius lowered his head and looked at you with a sad look.

–What can I do with you? – he sighed and gently stroked your cheeks, which had suffered from his grip. – You're so weak that sometimes I'm afraid you'll sneeze too hard and damage your lungs.

–Then you just need to hold me close and keep me warm and safe, – you pressed your cheek deeper into his clothes and hugged him tighter. – Um... we agreed, right?..

–Well, that sounds better than anything this school has to offer me, – Kalego chuckled and patted you on the head. – Wait…

You coughed nervously to the side and at the same time felt what the demon felt a few moments earlier. You had a fever. How you got sick so easily was still a mystery to you, but you've learned in your entire life that it's not something to be trifled with.

Kalego sighed and pressed his cool hands to your burning face. He wrapped you more tightly in his cloak before sitting down and nodding at his back. You carefully climbed on top of him and wrapped your arms around his neck. You pressed yourself against his neck and exhaled... and then abruptly pursed your lips and muttered an apology, trying to open your mouth as little as possible.

–Relax, my weak human, – Kalego chuckled, getting up and starting to carry you on his back. – I won't get sick for such a stupid little thing. I'm not you.

–T-thank you... Kalego… So think about it, was it sarcasm or, ahem, no…

–You're capable of sarcasm in any state, so I'll leave that question unanswered…

You wanted to giggle, but froze in horror when another monster came out from behind the bushes and opened its mouth to devour you and Kalego. You were ready to jump off its back and hit the ground so that the demon would have a chance to fight…

–I am out of time!

Naberius raised his hand... and slapped the creature's face with all his strength! And while the monster stared at Kalego in shock, the demon silently passed by as if nothing was happening. When the monster tried to attack again, Naberius just looked at it... and the creature decided to get as far away from here as possible before it ended up just like the "relatives" of it.

You turned around and looked at the monster… You turned around and hugged Kalego tighter, snuggled up to him and inhaled his scent... while you still could. You started to feel worse and worse. It looks like while everyone else is running around and having fun, you'll be lying in bed... as usual.

Fortunately, you always have a demon to take care of you. Kalego was always there for you when you were sick or feeling unwell... and he will always be there for you no matter what happens to you. And you'll be there for him, too... well, just like that. Not that you can give the great demon anything but yourself…

Although... what else did Kalego need from you other than yourself?

Post-credits scene.

–You're still sick, aren't you? – you giggled at the demon.

–Please just shut up and give me the medicine.

[frozensunflowersandlilies]

Arendelle Castle Rooms: The final part | Analysis

Eee! It's the final part. Finally all the rooms from the franchise so far all collected together to make sense of where everything is in the Castle. They're arranged by direction.

Before you dive in, if you already haven't checked out the individual breakdowns for each of these rooms. Here's the last breakdown.

Front:

Top left: Chapel (ref: Coronation in 'Frozen')

Below that: Gallery (ref: "For the first time in forever' in 'Frozen')

Below that: Library (ref: "For the first time in forever" in 'Frozen')

Below that: Spiral stairs tower (ref: "Love is an open door" in 'Frozen')

Below that: Corridor between the spiral stairs (ref: "Making today a perfect day" in 'Frozen Fever')

Bottom left: The (Second) Great Hall (ref: "Ring in the season" in 'Olaf's Frozen Adventure')

Below that: Spiral stairs (ref: "Making today a perfect day" in 'Frozen Fever')

Top right: Anna's bedroom (ref: concept art)

Below that: Iduna and Agnarr's bedroom/ balcony (ref: "Some things never change" in 'Frozen 2')

Bottom right: Castle dungeon (ref: Elsa's capture in 'Frozen')

Bottom centre: Courtyard/ Main castle entry (ref: 'Frozen Fever')

Front closeup:

Top left: Unknown room's balcony (ref: "For the first time in forever" in 'Frozen')

Top right: Swing (ref: "Making today a perfect day" in 'Frozen Fever')

Bottom: Iduna and Agnarr's bedroom/ balcony (ref: "Some things never change" in 'Frozen 2')

Inside front:

Top left: Chapel (ref: Coronation in 'Frozen')

Top right: Right side castle entry (ref: Elsa leaving Arendelle in 'Frozen')

Bottom: Barn (ref: Kristoff making stew in 'Olaf's Frozen Adventure')

Bottom right: Garden (ref: "For the first time in forever" in 'Frozen')

Above that: Inside entrance to the garden (ref: "Making today a perfect day" in 'Frozen Fever')

Right side:

Top: Meeting room (ref: After the flashback in 'Frozen 2')

Bottom: Right side castle entry (ref: Elsa leaving Arendelle in 'Frozen')

Left side:

Bottom: Castle lighthouse ("Love is an open door" in 'Frozen')

Back:

Top left: 3 back main triangular windows (After "Love is an open door" in 'Frozen')

Top right: unknown room's balcony (ref: "Making today a perfect day" in 'Frozen Fever')

Bottom: Elsa's bedroom (ref: Concept art)

And there it is! Where I think these rooms are in the castle. If I missed any out or made an error somewhere please let me know 🥺

I can't wait to update this when Frozen 3 comes out. Now I see some people getting impatient but it was only just announced and with the writers strike going on it might be delayed a little. But I hope the new director solves the issue the previous films had of Elsa leaving Anna. The sisters deserve to be together 🥹 But that's for another post! I'm just so excited for F3 because either way it's Frozen and I love it so much!

So much to talk about - I can't wait to tell you all in other posts!

Thank you for all the love you guys have given me with the likes, reposts and comments 🥹💕🫶🏼

Much appreciated! Stay cool! 😎❄️

[slafkovskys]

tarnished ❈ a golden au blurb

summary: in which not all that glitters is gold

word count: < 1k

warnings: angst, brief language

maybe it would have hurt less if he had said goodbye.

that first summer together was supposed to be them. just them. without the pressures of school or hiding from scottie’s superiors or only being able to share kisses in dark corners of bars or the safety of their apartment. their two weeks in atlanta went by fast with one week in the city and another at her grandparents’ ranch, it was only a matter of time before the boys’ teams came calling for development camp.

ryan went first.

she kept up with everything the caps would post to their socials, feeding it through to the gopher’s various media outlets along with the other boys who were at development camps that week as well. she packs a bag and flies up to minnesota the day before he comes home and the day that jimmy’s due to report to st. louis. she hugs her parents goodbye and leaves them with the excuse of an event she was required to attend.

she spends a few hours with him at the apartment before shuttling him off to the airport, giving him the biggest hug and a kiss to his lips. she’s not really thinking about how he holds on a little bit longer or how he looks like he’s fighting a battle in his own head as he turns to check his bags. she gets back into ryan’s car thinking she’ll be back tomorrow to pick up the aforementioned man and she’ll be back for jimmy in a week.

it would have hurt less if they hadn’t found out through social media.

ryan and scottie were both practically itching to have jimmy back the next day. it had been practically radio silence from him the past week, which neither could hold against him because they both knew that this was big for him.

a summer storm was sweeping through minnesota and the two were squished in the hammock on their balcony when ryan’s phone lit up. scottie watches as the screen illuminated his face before his eyebrows furrowed, “what the fuck?”

“what’s wrong?” scottie turns her body to stare at ryan, watching as his face morphs through a variety of emotions, ���ryan, what’s going on?”

“don’t-” and scottie wishes she had listened as she snatches his phone from his hand. her eyes scan over the same page that he was looking, the one that caused him to go through a handful of emotions within a matter of seconds.

what scottie sees on his phone screen makes her stomach churn. staring right back at her is jimmy’s smiling face flanked by either of his parents. in front of him is a stack of papers and she doesn’t miss the pen in his hand. her eyes trail up to read the caption,

jimmy snuggerud has agreed to terms on a three-year, entry-level contract. #stlblues

“did you know?” scottie’s voice shakes as she can’t tear her eyes away from the screen, “please don’t lie to me. is this some sick joke that you two are playing on me? did he say that he was staying just to go and do this?”

lightning flashes above their heads and thunder rolls through the sky as ryan quickly shakes his head, “scottie, baby, i’m finding this out right now, just like you are.”

“he-” she cuts herself off when a video pops up at the top of the feed. jimmy’s still smiling face takes up ryan’s phone screen once again, only this time he’s smiling at an unfamiliar woman who’s holding a microphone to his lips.

“so, jimmy,” her accented voice breaks through the night, “you originally said that you were going to be staying at minnesota for another year, but here you just signed your elc. what changed your mind?”

“yeah, um,” he scratches the back of his head like he always did when he was nervous, “just the atmosphere this past week, getting to explore the city some, having some talks with the guys, my family-” scottie can’t ignore the sting at those words, “i figured now was the best time. minnesota was great for me, but i feel like i’ve done what i can. nothing holding me there.”

she can’t stop the sob from escaping her lips and ryan rips his phone from her hands, quickly turning it off and gathering the girl in his arms, “he doesn’t mean that-”

“why would he say that then?” she questions, “did i mean nothing to him? did we mean nothing to him?”

ryan stays quiet because he can’t give her an honest answer. he feels as though he was just hit by a train, left exposed and still responsible for cleaning up the aftermath of someone else’s mess. he slips his hand underneath scottie’s shirt and rubs at her spine, trying to let him know that while he can’t explain what was happening, he was still here.

“scottie, it’s going to be okay. we’re going to be okay,” he tries, “we don’t need him-”

“everything is not okay, ryan!” she shouts through tears, “i need him because-”

it would have hurt less if-

“because i’m pregnant, ryan.”

[miirshroom]

Mushroom Vision

I am going to attempt explaining how there is an entire vast segment of environmental storytelling in Elden Ring that is going unremarked upon. It isn't just about mushrooms. But that's where I first took notice, so that's where I will start in this post.

The above is the view from a mushroom on the entry ramp to Raya Lucaria, just above where the merchant is sitting. This was maybe my 3rd or 4th random stop back when I decided to appreciate the scenery from the point of view of the mushroom (for fun!). It is an example of perfect framing for elements in the far distance:

The North Liurnia Minor Erdtree

The Church of Vows

The Erdtree

But really, it's "perfect" framing of only the Erdtrees - the Church of Vows is blocked from view and hidden by a stone pillar with a quatrefoil symbol on it. This is a noticeable trend at many mushroom spots - it would be a great view...except there is a nearby tree or a piece of stone exactly in front of one element in the far distance. The perspectives seen from these mushrooms are missing the full picture. Rotating to the left on top of the same mushroom, there is also a perfectly clear view of the Bellum Gate in front of Mt. Gelmir.

Setting the scene a bit more, the ramp is heavily forested, populated by 4 packs of wolves (numbering 3, 3, 3, and 5 including the white wolf in the group lowest down the ramp), then the Isolated Merchant, a Trina's Lily, a corpse with 2 strips of white flesh, and right inside the impassible gate is a Bloodhound Knight guarding a corpse holding Celestial Dew. The sealed entry to the ramp is looking directly towards the Cathedral of Manus Celes.

Also, there is a second mushroom on the bridge which has a view of the Church of Vows restored, but instead this one is blocked from viewing Mt. Gelmir. The Church of Vows is directly aligned with Morgott/Mohg's Divine Tower. This mushroom is between the 2nd and 3rd wolf pack.

Paying attention to the mushrooms also calls attention to something else interesting. There are 4 stone viewing spots built into the ramp face - the two middle ones occurring at those two mushroom spots, one at the top of the ramp just before the 1st wolf pack, and one at the bottom of the ramp between the merchant and the bloodhound knight.

The lowest of these viewing points has a clear view at the Erdtree (nearest to the gate). Also from this vantage point the Liurnia North Minor Erdtree is in alignment with the withered Minor Erdtree in the Altus Plateau:

The highest viewing point near the top of the ramp has views of Mt. Gelmir, Bellum highway Gate, and the Wandering Mausoleums:

In the photos of the first mushroom (lower ramp) I placed more emphasis on the Erdtrees, as this is the view obtained by looking directly at the minor Erdtree. See below as rotated to face the pillar directly, which corrects for peripheral vision picking up certain distant objects that do not actually have direct sightline to the mushroom.

And like at the upper ramp mushroom, the transparency of the Erdtree is accounted for in what is visible from this vantage point. From the corrected viewpoint Rykard's Divine Tower is also completely obscured by the pillar and Morgott/Mohg's Divine Tower is not only behind the Erdtree, but also behind a conveniently placed rock spear. Rotating to the right, a clear view of Liurnia Divine Tower and just the top of the Isolated Divine Tower. Caelid Divine Tower is obscured by the Carian Study Hall, and Limgrave Divine Tower is exactly behind the steeple of a pillar.

So what does it matter exactly, that landmarks are blocked from certain locations? Good question! I am trying to understand this! It seems to me quite obvious from the framing of this one small corner of the map that care is being taken to craft these vistas in a certain way. Perhaps travelling up the ramp is telling a story in sequence. Perhaps there is one story told from the balcony spots while a second lens is placed on the story from the mushroom spots.

Overall, what I see are pieces of an environmental puzzle deliberately crafted at hundreds of locations. Just from mushrooms alone. But there is no reason to stop at mushrooms - I know that some people are already taking interest in the locations of Trina's Lilies and Miquella's Lilies, but has any attempt been made to really consider what is visible (or not visible) from their locations? The things that NPC's can see from their vantage points, the directions that corpses are looking and the items they hold, the view of the divine towers from rebirth monuments (previously discussed in a different post) all seem to be carefully planned. Rowa bushes are very frequently found in pairs, and at almost every location I've checked so far across Limgrave there will be something clearly visible from one bush that is just barely out of sight from the other.

For anyone wondering whether Elden Ring actually innovated on anything compared to Dark Souls? It's this. Literally - it's the depth of environmental storytelling.

[dancingtotuyo]

Scathed (Javier Peña) Chapter 1

Javier Peña x OFC

Rating: Mature

Description: "No one who went through it, even the survivors, came out intact.” - Walt Breslin

Javier and Emily experienced the drug war on different fronts in very different ways. Maybe, they're what the other needs to heal.

Warnings: non descriptive non-con; references to non-con, abuse, manipulation, underage; grooming, age gap. Notes: No Javi in the first chapter. please don’t hate me. Lots of crossover with Narcos: Mexico (This chapter is all Narcos: Mexico.) Also on AO3 under the same title. Pen name: emilythepemily Words: 1,994

Series Master List | Author Master List

Journal Entry April 8, 1990

 It’s been a year since his arrest. 365 days without him. I should feel better. I should be relieved. I should be happy, but I feel more anxious than ever. It was supposed to be easier without him. I used to dream about getting away, how good it would be, but I feel 10 times worse. I wake up to nightmares all the time. I wake Mateo up constantly. It’s getting harder to get out of bed in the morning and fall asleep at night. Dad thinks I should go to a therapist. He says it’ll help. I’m not sure anything can help me.

  The bed dipped. Her muscles tightened. He wasn’t supposed to be home tonight. He was supposed to be in hiding, not with her, not putting her children at risk. He claimed innocence, but she knew. Emilia had known for a long time who he was. Who he truly was, but it was too late by the time she learned the truth. Her mother was gone, some grand scheme of his no doubt. She had no friends back in the US to miss her. Her father had been cut out of her life long before she stepped foot in Mexico.

Yet, it terrified her to think of what would happen if he got caught. She was dependent on him, a known monster. She’d take the known over the unknown in a heartbeat. She could handle him being on the run. She even enjoyed it. It meant she was still protected by him, but didn’t have to be with him. Emilia wasn’t naïve anymore. She realized one day that running will stop. He would get arrested. He’d be exonerated. He’d be a free man. Emilia knew he wouldn’t be killed. His survival instincts were too strong for that, but she wasn’t sure she would survive him.  His hand slipped under the waistband of her shorts. “Miguel, please not tonight.” She rarely protested. It’s never worked. 

“I’ve been gone for months and this how you welcome me back?” His voice had roughened over the years, his chain smoking taking its toll. The softness he used to use with her disappeared a long time ago. She once treasured his touch. That was a lifetime ago.

His hand continued. She didn’t try to stop it. It was easier this way. If she complied, there wouldn’t be bruises to conceal in the morning. She rolled to her back. He hovered above her, her shorts at her ankles. His other hand snaked up her shirt. It was easier this way. He kissed her jaw. His unkempt face scratched hers. Emilia opened her legs. He pulled down his pants. She turned her head to stare out their balcony doors. He didn’t turn on any lights. Good, no reflection to look past. The stars were bright, something to focus on. It was easier this way. 

He spooned her when he finished, making it impossible to move. He whispered in her ear. Emilia tuned it out, still focused on the stars. She used to treasure these moments a long time ago. He used to treasure Her. Now she was just a possession, something he owned. 

Emilia was 16 when they met. He was 38. He had been charming, and her mother, ever the opportunist, didn’t bat an eye when he started showing interest. Mary saw the Hotel Americas and practically tucked Emilia into his bed. It had seemed romantic at the time, the biggest thing to happen to her. 

His grip loosened just enough. She slipped out of his grip. The bathroom tile was cold on her feet. It welcomed her. The shower was hot. She washed him off and out. She couldn’t get pregnant. Having another baby would kill her. She was certain of that. She loved her three. They were her light in the darkness, but there couldn’t be anymore. She stood under the water until it ran cold and then slunk back to bed.

... Emilia’s toes curled against the cool grass the next morning. She was in the garden, her sacred space. Around the corner, Miguel played with Miguelito and Alejandra. Mateo lay in a laundry basket cushioned by a blanket, cooing and shaded from the sun by the fence. She smiled at him before turning back to the flower beds. The weeds had started to overtake her flowers.  

It was days like this when she was almost able to pretend things were normal. Her hands were buried in cool soil. It grounded her. This patch of dirt was hers. It may have been the only thing she had ownership of in life. Miguel liked to remind her that nothing was hers, not the kids, not her life, not even her own damn body. But this little patch of dirt, made her feel human. She could almost feel a little like herself before Miguel. 

Emilia’s ears pierced from a shriek that made her blood run cold. Unfamiliar voices called out. Her shovel dropped into the dirt. Men filled the backyard, guns fixed on Miguel. Her eyes scanned frantically for her children. 

“Mami!” A cop backed into the little girl. She stumbled. Screaming out, she scraped her knee. Emilia pushed past several cops to scoop her up. 

“I’m here, Mija.” She held her close, but Alejandra continued to scream in fright.

“Get your fucking guns off them!” Miguel yelled. 

She looked up. Miguel was up against the wall. She could feel the officer right behind her. She held Alejandra close, making sure her head was tucked inward, buried in her chest. It barely muffled the girl’s repetitive screaming. 

Miguel repeated his words. “She doesn’t know anything! She’s not a threat!” The officer only pushed him further into the wall. 

Calderoni, Emilia recognized him from a brief encounter years ago, gave a nod for the officer to lower his weapon. She dared to look behind her. The cop kept an eye on her but held his weapon by his side. 

Miguelito struggled against the hold of another cop. The officer received a solid kick to the shins and a bit hard enough to break the skin. He broke free. 

“Miguelito, here!” Emilia yelled, her hand brushing her son’s. He ran right past her. 

“Let papi go!” Miguelito yelled. He was restrained by another officer. He thrashed about. His song of protest joined Alejandra’s in deafening harmony.   

“Miguelito, go to your mother!” It was stern and short. 

He stilled instantly. The cop let him go. He glanced between his parents. Emilia could tell he desperately wanted to rescue his father. The father and son shared a look. Even at 5, Miguelito knew when his father meant business. He turned to Emilia. She held out her free arm to him. He came running.

Emilia was never able to recall exactly what happened next. It was a slow-motion, dream-like sequence filled with Alejandra’s haunting screams, Miguelito’s pleas to do something, and the feeling she was outside of her body. But she could perfectly recall, frame by frame, looking up and making eye contact with Miguel as he exited her life forever. 

The yard emptied. A few officers turned their attention to the house. Two stood watch at the gate door. 

She looked Miguelito over. No visible marks. “You let them take him!” He pushed her with such force that it knocked him onto his behind. 

“Miguelito…” She reached for her son.

“No!” He dodged her. Tears streaked his cheeks. “Stay away! I hate you!” He pulled up his knees and cried into them.

Emilia let it roll off her back. She lifted Alejandra, brushing her hair back. Her screams had been reduced to small whimpers. “Shhhhh, it’s okay sweetheart.” She rocked her. 

“Papi?” She tried to look around. 

“I’m here. Don’t worry. Everything will be okay.” Emilia quelled the questions rising inside her. Would everything be all right? 

Juana, the housekeeper and nanny, emerged from the house, followed by one of the officers.“Señora, what happened?” Emilia just shook her head. She didn’t have an answer to that. 

Calderoni entered the backyard, making his way straight toward her. She handed Alejandra to Juana. “Take them inside. Pack them each a bag. They can pick one thing to go with us.” She knew they wouldn’t be coming back. It felt inevitable. The nanny nodded and quickly gathered both children, ushering them inside with the promise of sweets. Calderoni gave his men orders to let them through. 

Emilia wiped her face. Her cheeks were damp. She didn’t know when it had happened. She squared her shoulders and stood firm in front of the comandante. “What’s a gringa doing with Felix?”

“What are you going to do with me and my children?”

He looked shocked. Like she was going to answer his question. Like she had an answer. “Do you have any family?”

“No.”

“Nobody in America?”

“I have nobody but my children, comandante.”

“What was your name?” She heard it, not what is your name, but what was… What was? That was a very good question. It felt like a lifetime ago. She wasn’t sure her lips could form the sounds. She felt disconnected from that girl.

“Em- Emily Kuykendall.”

His eyebrows furrowed, surprise sprinkled across his face. “Relation to Jaime Kuykendall?”

The name floated across her lips. It flashed through her mind, her stepmom calling her dad by that name. Her stepmom had been from somewhere in Mexico, she scraped her brain to remember where, but couldn’t. She’d been 7 years old the last time she saw them.

“Jaime- James Kukendall? You know him?”

“Yes, he worked the DEA office in Guadalajara until ’85.” Her heart sped up. He’d been so close those first couple of years. “What’s your relation?”

“He’s my father.” She could hardly believe it. “Do you know where he is?”

“I think I do.” He nodded. “Gather what you need. You’ll come with us.”

Juana emerged with Alejandra and Miguelito. Both wore their backpack. Ale clutched her stuffed bunny. They looked so tiny. Juana handed her a suitcase. “Everything you and the baby will need.”

Fuck. Mateo. She glanced over to the basket at the far end of the yard. His little fists moved above him. He was safe. He wasn’t crying or fussing. Her heart rate eased. She wouldn’t have left without him, she knew that, but even momentarily, she had forgotten about him. 

Juana looked at her with understanding in her eyes. She’d been with them through so much. She’d delivered Alejandra and Mateo. She’d seen the bruises, heard the screams, and she’d protected the children from it. Made sure they would never be scared or scarred by their father’s temper. In many ways, she’d been Emily’s only friend in Mexico. 

She wrapped the older woman in a hug. “Thank you, for everything.”

“You made it through, mija.” 

Tears sprung in her eyes. “You’ll be ok?”

“Of course, there’s always work to be found. Do not worry about me.” She touched Emily’s cheek. 

Emily knew this would be the last time she saw Juana. She wished for words, but there where none.

The woman handed her a sling. Emily took it and walked across the yard to her baby. She peered into the basket. He contently sucked on his little fist, blowing bubbles and kicking his feet as content as can be. She breathed a sigh of relief. He’d stayed this way throughout the screaming and chaos. Emily would never understand how. She picked him up. He squealed. She couldn’t help but smile, kissing his chubby cheeks. 

She tucked the infant into the sling. He snuggled against her. His sweet, contented noises continued.  She grabbed Alejandra's hand and reached for Miguelito’s. He pulled it away, refusing to look at her. He marched toward the waiting car. Emily helped her daughter into the car. She took one last look at the house. Juana waved. Emily slid into the vehicle. She didn’t look back.

Chapter 2 >

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Strained - a Malevolent fanfic

Faroe has made her decision. To find herself, she's stepping away from her father's plans for her life.

Faroe is not quite eleven, and has no idea how to take her decision back. She wouldn’t, anyway, even if she could.

At least she’ll have forever to make it right.

Part of the Surrogate series. We’re back, baby.

AO3

-----------

The trip home was terribly silent.

Faroe’s heart pounded like a drummer leading to war. She knew her father could hear it, knew it wrecked any chance she had of seeming calm over this, but he did not comment. He carried her as if she were very little (and she didn’t really want him to do otherwise), saying nothing.

She was pleased with her decision. Pleased with her declaration. Not so pleased with the fact that her father had said precisely nothing in response, but only reached, waiting for her to take his hand so they could go home.

The Keeper was, of course, wonderful. “Oh!” she’d said. “I highly doubt that was a suggestion from the group.”

It had not been. Exactly. “No, your grace. It’s mine.”

“Oh, I see,” said the Keeper, wringing several of her hands at the same time.

That probably wasn’t a good response. “Thank you for your hospitality!” Faroe called over Hastur’s shoulder as they zoomed (surely faster than usual) for the portal back home.

It had become quite nicely refined, this portal, leading inside the Scriptorium instead of outside the front door in all that ice and snow, and its entry sat in a beautifully innocent place in one of the palace’s inner halls. Doors lined that hall, guarding various private rooms reserved for the use of the King and his family, and this particular door was always locked—magically keyed to her, her father, Parker, and Arthur.

She studied that doorknob as the portal closed behind them—elegant, ornate, flashing with power and shaped for her hand. It had not occurred to her before that all the doorknobs in the palace fit her small, human hand. That had to be intentional.

A tiny seed of guilt stirred in her gut, seeking to put down roots.

Then he was still carrying her down the hall. Past the throne room, past the music room where Arthur played (and she tried to catch what he was playing, but could not determine it except for big and pretty), and then they were in Hastur’s own quarters. Past his magnificently comfortable bed, his various mirrors and magical shiny gewgaws, past the little vanity station/practice stage Odd had set up against one wall, and onto her father’s glorious balcony.

She hadn’t quite reached the point in her magical studies that she could understand how his balcony did this. The sky above was deep space—whirling galaxies, spreading supernovas and vibrant nebulae so clear they invited touch—smoothly transitioning to the sun-kissed sky above sun-kissed Carcosa. An impossible vista from her incredible father’s mind.

He stood there, staring at it.

For once—a rare occasion—she could not read him. He was so still, even the gentle undulations of his tentacles in the breeze like long weeds in the sea’s current. Silent, he held her against his many beating hearts, and together, they regarded his kingdom.

She couldn’t take it. “Dad…”

“Shhh. Just a moment more, my daughter. Just a moment more.”

What the actual heck did that mean?

He hadn’t said yes or no. He hadn’t pushed back or anything, and she knew this was a big enough deal that he should have. Her throat felt tight.

Court Debate teachers had drilled into her that silence was a powerful tool, and if she’d just learn to let it stretch, she’d win most conversations. Well, she was about to lose this one. It was too much. “Dad…”

His sigh was deep. “Yes, my daughter.”

Why did this feel sad instead of rebellious? It was supposed to feel triumphantly rebellious! “Did you hear me? In the Scriptorium?”

“Of course I did, my daughter. I always do.”

This was not the predicted response. “I’m doing it.”

“I’m aware,” he said, and a hint of humor crested his dark tone. “As if I could force you to learn anything against your will, even if I tied you down in a classroom.”

Her brow knit. “So… you’re okay with this?”

The beat of silence stretched just an inch too far. “As in all things, you are precocious. I expected thIs particular spate of willfulness later in your teenage years, but I accept its early arrival.”

He had?

No, that wasn’t fair! This was supposed to throw everything completely off-kilter! This was supposed to be her first step toward finding herself, not another part of his plan! “Well, maybe you didn’t plan for this,” she informed him, chin raised.

“Oh?” he said.

“I’m quitting more than lessons.” She tried to sound sure.

“Quitting… what?” said Hastur.

“Being royalty,” she said out of nowhere, because that had been the problem between her and Walter, and it was something given to her, and Arthur wasn’t royal, anyway, and who cared? (She did, but worried she wasn't supposed to.)

A pause.

If he laughed, she didn’t know what she would say. If he laughed, she wasn’t sure what she would do. Anger? Tears? Tears had a better chance of moving him, but anger would feel better, even though she couldn’t explain why she’d be angry—

He suddenly wrapped himself around her, arms and tentacles all, as if protecting her from a shower of meteors, and gave one terrible, bone-deep shudder.

In familiar and safe darkness, she went absolutely still. “Daddy?”

“As long as you are alive to do so,” he murmured, which didn't make a whole lot of sense. “I wish for your welfare. Though I believe you’ll rule someday with kingdoms of your own, worshipers, priests, I understand what’s happening. The human studies I’ve read stated the developmental importance of you finding your own way to achieve goals. Your timing…” His laugh wasn’t a laugh. It was awful, quiet, breathy, like nothing she’d ever heard, and it made her chest ache. “Your timing is… difficult. I wish you’d waited. But here we are.” He didn’t unwrap her. He stayed where he was, completely encasing, as if the Dreamlands were dying and only he could keep her alive at the end of the world.

This was all wrong. This had gone all wrong. “Dad?”

“Allow me to process your demand,” said Hastur, slowly unwinding, finally releasing her to sun and sky and air. “I must think.”

She gulped. None of this had gone as she’d imagined it would, and she didn’t know what to do. “Okay.”

He gently touched her cheek. “Worry not. I will plan around everything.”

And she did something she had never done and would normally never do, and didn’t feel good about, but she wanted so badly to make her point that she did it anyway: she shoved his hand away. “I don’t want your plan.”

She’d hurt him.

It was there, in the incomplete and quivering stillness of his limbs, in the ramrod straight posture of his being, in the thick and glutinous silence stretching between them like overworked dough. She'd hurt him, the god of Carcosa, the Prince of the Great Old Ones. Hurt her father, maybe badly.

She couldn’t swallow around the lump in her throat. Couldn’t retract her words—they were too big to fit back inside.

“Nevertheless,” he said, his deep voice mild. “Enjoy your day. I will speak to your tutors and cancel your lessons.”

So this was not the upset she’d intended. No. It was so much worse. “Thank you,” she managed out of raw habit and a life of courtly training.

He didn’t touch her again.

She desperately wanted him to, wanted to lean into his safety and familiarity and love. She couldn’t. It would defeat the entire reason she’d done all this.

(She was no longer sure it was good she’d done all this, but it was far too late to change course.)

Too late to change, but not too late to fix it. She had eternity to fix it. Not that she knew how to live forever yet, but she knew there were many ways. He would live forever, and she would take that time. She'd fix it, and still find her own way. “I will see you at breakfast.” And probably not until then because she would be on her own today, who knew where—her own woman, on her own time.

He stayed back on the balcony as she left, and she felt him watching, and though technically, literally, nothing had changed, a deep and growing ache throbbed in her chest, as if she’d lost something with him that she desperately missed.

She couldn’t even name it, and had no idea how to bring it back to life.

[summerfoxcrafts]

Global Crafts: Turkish Woven Rugs

Last week, I posted an informational blog entry about the absolutely gorgeous craft of Jordanian Mosaic Art.  But Jordan wasn’t the only place I was fortunate enough to visit on my trip!  Along with some Jordanian mosaics, I came back with another souvenir from the second part of my trip: a gorgeous Turkish rug.

On my first full day in Istanbul, I decided to slip out of the hotel on my own – my travel companions were all still jetlagged – to go and see some of the famous sights.  As I was approaching the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia, a gentleman approached me and offered to escort me.  I know you’re absolutely not supposed to allow this, especially as a female traveler, but I am a bit tragically nonconfrontational.  To his credit, he did end up taking me right to the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia, and front gate of Topkapi Palace and even up to a restaurant balcony where you can get phenomenal pictures of all of the above!

He then took me to his shop, which included an upstairs area absolutely full of gorgeous Turkish rugs!  There was even a loom set up off to the side where I was able to see a work-in-progress – and didn’t my jaw just drop, as someone who completed their first ever weaving project just a few months back.  As he was showing off rugs of all sizes and colors, he started to tell me a bit more about the tradition and techniques used to make them.

[Link to full blog post]

[kanerallels]

Day four of @kaneraweek is here, and with it, my fourth fic! It's absolutely insane to think that we're already this far into the week, but it's been awesome so far! This one is a follow up of sorts to day two

Read on AO3!

Taglist: @laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @day-to-day-thots @heckin-music-dork @firefoxtessa @auroramagpie @cassie-fanfics @opalknight (DM me if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!)

The plan had been for them to pick up supplies— that was all. Just land, grab the supplies, and get going. But Hera was starting to learn that almost nothing went to plan where the Empire, to say nothing of her crew, was concerned.

So she was almost unsurprised when a group of raiders showed up and told them to relinquish their supplies, or they wouldn’t be leaving this planet alive.

And now, here she was. Crouched behind a crate next to Kanan and a few yards away from Zeb, wielding her blaster and ducking red bolts as they zipped past her.

Fairly typical for her life, if she was being honest.

Glancing up, she met Kanan’s gaze. Lifting an eyebrow, he said, “You never take me anywhere nice.”

“As I recall, this was your plan, dear,” Hera shot back.

“Knew there had to be some way this was my fault,” Kanan said, darting up to take a shot at one of their opponents. Ducking back down, he said, “It made sense at the time.”

“Well, figure out one that makes sense now,” Hera told him, peering over the rim of the crate. “Because there’s no way we’re going to make it back to the Ghost in one piece without one.”

He still hadn’t made it back to the Ghost. 

Hera pushed aside her concern mingled with irritation for what felt like the hundredth time that evening, and focused on rewiring the console in front of her instead.

But it wouldn’t completely go away. When Kanan had asked for a little time off that night, she had assumed it meant… well, she wasn’t quite sure. But he’d left that afternoon, and there was no sign of him. And when Hera remembered what day it was…

She’d seen him handle Empire Day poorly before. Namely, last year, when he’d gotten drunk and blown the op they were planning to pieces, endangering both of their lives. Hera had been furious— more than that, she’d been frightened. She’d seen Kanan drink before, but not like that day.

Luckily, her reaction had hit Kanan hard. Hard enough that he hadn’t drunk since then. There had been some rough days between then and now, but she was proud of him. Proud of him for fighting the addiction he’d let control him for so long.

But now… he was gone. Hera hadn’t planned an op for today specifically in case of something like this, but she hadn’t really expected it. Kanan had promised her it was over, and she’d wanted— needed to believe him. 

But what if that need had blinded her?

A clatter down in the entry bay caught Hera’s attention, and she rose to her feet, heading down the hall with her heart pounding. If it was him, then things could be about to get ugly.

Force, she didn’t want that.

Reaching the balcony above the cargo bay, she looked down and saw Kanan facing the wall, hand pressed against it as if to hold him steady. Oh, no.

“Where have you been?” Hera knew her voice was harsh, but she couldn’t quite prevent herself from snapping. Because she’d been scared, and she still was. She was terrified that she was right.

“Out. Sorry, I didn’t mean for you to worry.” Kanan’s voice was… not quite slurred. But still off enough that Hera’s heart plunged. “I, uh, I’ll be in my room.”

He took a step towards the ladder, then stumbled just enough that the light caught his face. Hera’s eyes went wide. “Kanan!”

“Hey, Kanan!”

Hera followed the sound of Zeb’s shout to where the Lasat was waving to them. He had his bo-rifle at the ready, and nodded at where their attackers were firing on them. “Got any ideas?”

“None that are any good,” Kanan called back. He paused, his eyes narrowing, and Hera knew his mind was racing. Finally, he nodded at Zeb. “On three, throw one of the crates at them. I’ll give it a boost. Hera, you cover us.”

Gripping her blaster firmly, Hera said, “This is crazy.”

“All our best plans are,” Kanan quipped as Zeb grabbed a crate, crouching in wait for Kanan’s signal.

Despite how serious she knew the situation was, Hera couldn’t help but feel a flash of determined readiness. There was something satisfying about being side by side with Kanan in a fight.

To say Kanan had been in a fight was a wild understatement. One of his eyes was swollen shut, dark bruising discoloring the entire left side of his face. Blood oozed from a split lip, a long slash in his forehead, and his nose— which had already been slightly crooked— was definitely broken now. As Hera stared at him, she saw he had one arm wrapped around his torso, his stiff posture radiating pain.

She moved forward without stopping to think, slipping down the ladder to catch him by the shoulder as he swayed on his feet. “Force— what happened, Kanan?”

“Slipped,” he mumbled, and Hera could swear she saw a smile cross his face before it twisted in pain and he grabbed for the wall again.

“That is not funny,” Hera snapped, frustration swirling with concern in her chest as she helped Kanan to a crate on the floor nearby. He sank downward with a gasp of relief. 

“I don’t know,” Kanan said as Hera moved to get the med kit they stored in the entry bay in case of emergency. “I think it’s a little funny.”

Grabbing the kit, Hera flipped it open. “Now is not the time to joke about this,” she bit out, digging through the contents. “You’re a mess, and I want to know why, and what you did.”

“Who says it’s something I did?”

“Kanan.”

“Fine.” Kanan sighed as Hera brought the med kit over. “I… picked a fight. And I was very outnumbered.”

They were outnumbered, and outgunned. But Hera wasn’t giving up. She never did. So, as Kanan gave Zeb a nod, and the Lasat started to move, she popped up from behind the crate, taking out one of their opponents with a single shot. And she kept firing, not flinching at the incoming blaster bolts. 

She heard Zeb let out a snarling roar of effort as he launched the crate at their enemies, and didn’t have to look to know Kanan gave it an extra boost through the Force. It soared through the air and smashed into them, bowling three of them over and sending the others scattering. This was their chance.

Hera didn’t have to look at Kanan— she knew it was time to move. As Zeb vaulted over the crates, Kanan bolted after him. But Hera hesitated, for just a moment. Because their supplies were right there, and she hated to leave them behind—

She heard a blaster fire, and pain burned through her. A gasp was forced out of her body, and she stumbled backwards— just in time to feel the second blaster bolt hit. As her knees gave out, all she could think was, Oh, this was a bad idea.

“It was a bad idea, I know,” Kanan said as Hera set the med kit next to him, flipping open.

Pulling out a stim, Hera jabbed it into his arm, and he let out a yelp. “I know that,” she said. “What I asked was why you started it in the first place.”

“I… because.” Kanan’s gaze dropped, and he was silent long enough that Hera was about to speak when he said, “Because I promised you I would make the same mistake as last year.”

“What?” Hera frowned, confusion spiraling through her. “What does that mean?”

“It means I wasn’t drinking. I haven’t since last Empire Day. But I— I did end up at a bar.”

Hera pulled the antiseptic out, not speaking. Turning his words over in her mind, she coated a piece of gauze in the antiseptic, and paused for a moment before she finally said, “Okay. Explain it to me.”

“You don’t need to—”

“Kanan.”

Sighing, Kanan said, “Listen, I’m sorry, Hera.”

“HERA!”

Vaguely Hera heard her name called as she slammed into the ground, pain searing her back and her arm. Everything hurt, and she let out a slight gasp, unwilling to let out any other sounds of pain. This is not good. Oh, Force, I screwed up now.

Blaster fire and shouts echoed in her ears, and Hera vaguely saw a blue, glowing blur out of the corner of her eye, moving towards her. What? Is that…?

For a brief moment, the vision before her solidified— Kanan, wielding his lightsaber with expert confidence. Zeb, at his side, a snarl marking his face as he took out attacker after attacker.

Kanan was moving towards her, his expression fierce and unflinching. And even as pain sent her world spinning, she couldn’t help but think, This is the first time I’ve seen him use his saber.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve picked a fight with someone, and I didn’t mean to—”

“Kanan.” Hera caught hold of his chin, lifting it so he had to meet her eyes. His eyes widened a little as they locked with hers. “I asked for an explanation, not an excuse.”

He was silent for a heartbeat, gaze holding hers, then said, “I know. I… I went there out of habit, honestly.”

Lifting the gauze, Hera gently dabbed at the cut in his forehead. She felt him flinch, but he kept talking as she cleaned the wound. “But I wasn’t going to buy a drink, and I didn’t. But there was this… group of Imperial pilots there. Drinking and celebrating the glorious Empire.” The bitterness in his voice shifted in something raw as he said, “And I just… all I could think about was my Master.”

Hera stilled, just for a moment. He barely ever talked about his past, let alone the Jedi side of things. So she kept quiet as he continued. “They were celebrating the people that had her slaughtered, gunned down by the men she trusted. And I… it hurt. And the only way I know how to dull that is to drink. So I decided to try something else.”

“And what’s that?” Hera asked, setting aside the gauze. As she reached for the bacta patches in the med kit, she could feel his heart beating against her fingertips.

Her heart was pounding as Kanan reached her, the blue light disappearing in an instant. Everything was blurry with pain, but she knew it was his arms that she was swept into. “I got you,” he said, cradling her against his chest. “Don’t move, Hera. We’re gonna get you out of here. Hera?”

She could hear him saying her name, but his voice was fading, along with everything else. All she could really be aware of was the pain, searing its way through her body as the sounds of Zeb and Kanan’s voices, blasters firing, and then the Ghost’s engines— a sound that she knew better than herself, that lived inside her— faded away.

And then, the pain was gone, too, and there was nothing.

“Nothing smart,” Kanan said. “I just figured… when one thing hurts more than the other, you tend to focus on the worst pain.”

Hera’s eyebrows shot up as she gently smoothed the bacta patch over the cut on his forehead, fingertips lingering briefly. “So you tried to get your face smashed in so that things would hurt less?”

“I know,” Kanan said with a sigh. “It’s stupid.”

“No— well, yes,” Hera amended herself. “But I know what it’s like to want something that hurts so much to go away. To think that you would do anything to stop it.”

She saw the curiosity in his eyes, and knew he would ask. But he didn’t. Instead, he quietly asked, “Does it stop hurting?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m not exactly the authority in either of our cases. But… I hope so. Maybe someday we’ll be able to focus on the joy, not the pain.”

“Sounds like a nice thought,” Kanan said quietly.

“Maybe,” Hera said with a sigh. Turning her attention back to him, she said, “You’re going to need something for that eye— and your nose, too.”

Grimacing, Kanan said, “Right. I can take care of the nose if you’ll find me some frozen peas or something.”

Hera nodded, turning towards the ladder. As she made her way up to the kitchen and dug out a bag of frozen mixed vegetables they’d picked up in their last supply run, she heard a strangled yelp of pain from down in the entry bay. When she returned, Kanan was blinking back involuntary tears of pain, but his nose was closer to its former, less crooked placement. He had a handful of gauze, which he was using to wipe away the residual blood on his face.

As she entered, he glanced up, and she held up the frozen veggies. “Perfect,” he said, accepting them and pressing the bag against his face with a grateful sigh. “Thanks, Hera. For everything.”

“Of course.” Hera was silent for a moment, watching Kanan as he cleaned himself of the last of the blood, setting aside the crumpled handful of gauze. “You’re a mess,” she said softly.

“I know.” Kanan gave her a wry half-smile.

Hera weighed her next words briefly before saying, “You don’t have to go through this alone, you know.”

His eyebrows hiked up, surprise crossing his face. Somehow, that encouraged Hera. Holding his gaze, she said, “When next year comes around… can we talk about this? Instead of you throwing yourself into a fight just to make it stop hurting? I know it feels like it’ll help, but there has to be something else we can do that doesn’t involve hurting you more.”

She saw him hesitate, and said softly, “Please.”

“I… yeah, okay.” Kanan let out a sigh of defeat. “I’ll try.”

“Good.” On an impulse, Hera took his hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “I need my best crew member in one piece, you know.”

That crooked smile of his turned up the corner of his mouth. “Pretty sure I’m your only crew member, Captain Hera. And that Chopper would be very offended to hear that.”

“You want me to take it back?”

“Not at all,” Kanan said, leaning towards her a little. “Thank you, Hera. And I’m sorry, I really am.”

Nodding, Hera said, “Apology accepted— and you’re welcome, Kanan. We take care of each other, okay? That’s what we do.”

“Understood.”

Hera held his gaze for another moment longer, then turned to the med kit, starting to put it away. “We should probably take a look at your ribs.”

“What, trying to get my shirt off, Hera?” Kanan said, his tone teasing. “I thought I was more to you than that.” His voice turning a little more serious, he said, “But I got it. You should go get some rest. I kept you up late, and you must be tired.”

She was tired, so tired. Her limbs refused to move, to cooperate. She knew, vaguely, that she should be getting up, that there was something urgent she was forgetting. But sleep threatened to pull her back under.

And then she heard a familiar voice. Kanan’s voice.

“She’ll be okay?”

Another voice— automated and impersonal— assured him that she would make a full recovery, and that it was only a matter of time before she woke. “The time in the bacta tank helped considerably. Now, all you can do is wait.”

“I see. Thank you.”

There was a brief silence, then she heard footsteps, moving towards her bedside. Chair legs screeched across the floor, and Kanan sighed. “You’re gonna be okay,” he said.

Fingers laced through hers, and she felt Kanan lean his forehead against their clasped hands. “Force, Hera. You can’t scare me like that.”

His voice shook a little, then he cleared his throat. “Just… I��m glad you’re okay. If a stupid supply run had taken you away from— from us… I don’t know what I would have done.”

The supplies! That’s what Hera had been forgetting. Straining, she finally managed to force her eyes open. Blearily, she took in the hospital room around her. They’d made it out, although she wasn’t sure where to.

Her voice was a croak when she said, “Kanan.”

“Hera!” There was a rush of movement, and she was staring into Kanan’s blue-green eyes. “Wow. When the med droid said you’d wake up soon, I didn’t think he meant that soon.”

“You and Zeb?” Hera managed. Her mouth was dry, her throat a desert.

“We’re fine,” Kanan assured her, reaching for something out of her sightline. “Here— drink this.”

Water. Hera let out a sigh of relief as she drank from the cup Kanan held to her lips. When she had quenched her thirst, she cleared her throat, her voice coming a little easier as she said, “And the supplies?”

Kanan shook his head. “There were too many of them. Zeb and I barely made it out of there intact, and you—” his voice hitched, and he stopped, his gaze dropping. 

Hera winced as the vague memories came back to her. The pain, the ground rushing up to meet her. Kanan and Zeb fighting like mad to get to her.

One memory in particular solidified— Kanan, wielding a blue lightsaber. Confident and unhesitating as he batted away blaster fire.

He’d never used his saber before. Hera had known he had one, but this was the first time he’d actually used it. And he’d done it to save her. He’d endangered himself to save her.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

Kanan glanced up. “What?”

“For saving me. For— putting yourself in danger.” She held his gaze meaningfully, hoping he’d understand what she wasn’t saying.

He nodded, expression serious. He understood. “Always, Captain Hera. We take care of each other, right? That’s what we do.”

“Right,” Hera said, feeling that spark of warmth blooming in  her chest that she felt so often around Kanan. It was a spark that she usually squashed, pushed aside. A spark that she knew she couldn’t feel. But right now, she let it stay, let it warm her. 

“I remember the first time you told me that.”

Kanan’s voice was soft and contemplative as he spoke. “I was… such a mess. And you helped me back to my feet. Showed me that I could handle these things in a different way. Showed me that I wasn’t alone.” Shaking his head, he said, “You changed my life.”

“I think you’re exaggerating, dear,” Hera said, trying to keep her voice casual. But her heart was pounding, because she knew what Kanan was about to say. She’d known this conversation would happen someday, and she’d selfishly hoped to avoid it for as long as possible.

“You know I’m not,” Kanan said. He was still holding her hand, and Hera knew she should let go but she couldn’t quite bring herself to.

Following her gaze to their clasped hands, Kanan was quiet for a long moment. “Why don’t we ever talk about what happened?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” Hera knew she was playing for time, she knew she had to face this. But Force, she didn’t want to, and she knew it wasn’t just because she didn’t want to hurt him.

“You know what I mean,” Kanan said, his voice even. “I mean the fact that you kissed me a couple months ago, and I know we said we weren’t going to talk about it—”

“Then you know why we haven’t talked about it,” Hera snapped. “Because I said we weren’t going to talk about it—”

“Hera, you kissed me,” Kanan said. “And I kissed you back, because— because this isn’t just a friendship, and you know it. I care about you, and—”

“You’re just saying this because of what happened,” Hera told him.

“Because you nearly died? Yes, that is part of why I’m saying it. Because your heart nearly stopped, and I almost lost you before I could tell you how I felt about you. Before we could even consider giving this a chance—”

“Stop.”

Hera could hear the harshness, the anger in her voice, and it hurt her. Because she knew it would hurt Kanan, and she didn’t want that. But she didn’t think there was anything they could do to avoid it now.

He didn’t speak for a long moment, and Hera closed her eyes. She knew what would happen if they kept talking. She’d tell him what she didn’t want to say, that nothing could ever happen, that they could never be anything more. And he would leave.

Hera had always hated crying. And feeling the prickle against her eyelids, she knew this was no exception.

“Explain it to me.”

He spoke quietly, sounding calm. It surprised Hera enough that she managed to banish the tears for the time being. “What?”

“You’ve always listened to me, when I’ve made messes that are way bigger than this one,” Kanan told her. “So explain it to me. Please?”

The pleading in his eyes tugged at Hera’s heart, more than it should have. She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a deep breath. “Okay.”

She felt Kanan watching her, silent and patient, as she opened her eyes. “I… you know what my goals are. And you know how much they matter.”

“I do,”

“Then you know I have to prioritize them above anything else.” Forcing herself to meet Kanan’s eyes, Hera told him, “This is only going to get bigger. And that means everything I have has to go towards this fight. It means I’d be keeping secrets from you, and— I can’t possibly manage a real relationship at the same time. One of them would be neglected and—”

“And you think it would be me,” Kanan finished, and Hera nodded, frustration burning in her throat. This is the part where he leaves.

“I think you’re underestimating my tenacity, Hera.”

Hera’s gaze flew back up to Kanan’s. He didn’t look nearly as hurt as she expected. If anything, he looked amused. “Hera, I’ve spent the past year and a half knowing how I feel about you and never really expecting anything in return. Do you really think that, if I know this could be real, I’m going to let anything get in our way?”

“You’re being unrealistic,” Hera argued, trying to shove aside the hope rising in her heart. “I would ignore our relationship in favor of—”

“Fighting for what’s right, which is what I love about you,” Kanan said. “And I’d be fighting right alongside you. We’ve been doing just fine so far.”

“It’s different, and you know it.”

Sighing, Kanan said, “I forget how stubborn you are sometimes.” Leaning forward, he locked eyes with her. “If you’re not ready, I can wait. But I also have no intention of giving up on this. If I have to wait until the end of this war, I will. Because Force knows being around you is worth it, Hera. Every single minute of it, whether we’re just friends or not.”

With Kanan’s face only a few inches away from her own, Hera found herself… speechless. Words fail me, I suppose, she thought with a flash of humor. Clearing her throat, she managed, “Now who’s being stubborn?”

“What can I say? We make a good team,” Kanan said, a smile crossing his face. Leaning back, he said, “Just think about it. And get some more rest. We’ll check out of here tomorrow, okay?”

“Hmm,” Hera said, dropping back into her pillows. As a wave of fatigue swept over her, she mumbled, “I thought I was supposed to be the captain.”

“You are,” Kanan said, his voice gentle. “But listen to me about this, okay?”

“Whatever you say, love,” were Hera’s last words as she dropped off to sleep.

Before she dropped off to sleep that night, Hera’s last thoughts were about Kanan. She knew he was a mess, that he’d been through a lot— but that he was working through it, and figuring out how to live with it in a healthy way.

And she knew one other thing for certain— she was glad she had him in her life.

[greyennui]

WIP Wednesday

gonna start doing these now, I guess lol. enjoy a lil snippet from Chapter 1 of my 10,000-years-before-BotW GanLink fic.

Link scrambled through the entry hall and ran up the stairs back to his den. He pushed aside the heavy leather flap of his door and froze in the kitchen, paralyzed with indecision. The stew. Take care of the stew first.

He grabbed the pot between woven pads of longleaf and rushed through his door and across the balcony. “Belim!” he yelled, still several yards from his best friend’s den. “Belim, I have stew!” He skidded to a stop in front of the door, balancing his arms to avoid spilling the contents of the pot with the force of his sudden halt. The leather door lifted at the edge, revealing a tan face, blond hair, and brown eyes, all attached to a man just a bit taller than Link, and far more muscled. “Stew?” Belim said flatly. “What.” Link shoved the pot forward. “I can’t eat it,” he said breathlessly. “I… have other plans.” Belim raised an eyebrow. “You never have plans. As evidenced by the stew you’ve made.” “Well, I do now,” Link huffed. “Take it.” “What plans?” Link rolled his eyes. “If you don’t want it, I’ll just take it to Hami—” “I’ll take it if you tell me what plans.” Link let out a rough growl of frustration, fully aware that his ears were still aflame with embarrassment. “I’ve been invited to dinner,” he hedged. “With who?” Belim asked, leaning against the wall. “A… a Gerudo.” “Link.” Link grimaced. “Hm?” “You’re gay, Link.” “I’m well aware of that, thank you.” “Did she bribe you or something?” Belim asked, eyes alight with amusement. Link sighed, throwing his head back to stare at the stormy clouds above. A raindrop hit him square between the eyes. “He did not have to bribe me,” Link said, dropping his head again to glare at Belim. “He?” Belim echoed blankly. “But there’s not—oh. You fucking gold digger.” “I said he didn’t bribe me!” Link hissed. “Take the stew!”

[awoosmusehorde]

(♫)

Almost like a cancerous growth, a twisted and malformed castle had practically grown around the base of the massive tree at the heart of the city. The immediate area around Yggdrasil had to be evacuated, as it was now encapsulated by a barrier, and horrifying monstrosities roamed the area immediately around it, slaughtering anyone who got too close. It was now a No Man's Land, abandoned by the city.

People were beginning to question what was going on, but beyond the barrier and the patrols, nothing seemed to be happening. Nobody else was being killed, no operations disrupted, even the prana hadn't been cut off. Besides those who had been displaced, the people of Scholomance simply assumed that this was a grand, interesting new part of the latest Ascension Trial, even though taking civilian life was off-limits. Daily life was continuing on as always.

Even all this way underground, humans were still human, unwilling to see the horrors in front of them so long as they weren't directly affected.

From her balcony overlooking the city from on high, the raven-haired mistress of the castle, dressed in a blood-red gown, smirked at just how pitiful this "advanced magical civilization" truly was. Despite how much more highly they held themselves above their surface brethren, in the end, they were just the same. Selfish, stupid mortals, who turned a blind eye to things they didn't want to see until they were forced to accept it - and then they broke, like fragile glassware gripped a little too tightly.

"Mistress. Rider awaits you in the throne room to give her report."

A young woman garbed in a worn tunic that was, perhaps, elegant and upper class at some point, had entered meekly, practically making no noise in doing so. She spoke with such fatigue in her voice, as if uttering those few words threatened to make her pass out, and yet the mistress of the castle expressed no concern for the girl, simply smiling.

"Very well. I shall be there shortly. Wait here, 'Master'."

The final word was spoken with thick sarcasm, almost mocking, causing the young woman's gaze to drift to the floor and narrow, almost pained. And yet, she bowed, an act of subservience despite the title she once wore with perhaps a little too much pride. Her former Master stepping aside, the woman in red left the room and made her way through the castle swiftly, yet gracefully, before arriving at a throne she sat upon.

Stood before her was a silver-haired woman with a wide-brimmed hat that obscured much of her features, her body mostly obscured by a cloak seemingly made entirely of feathers, bowing briefly before the woman on the throne. The castle's mistress gazed upon her with a single blood-red eye, the other obscured by her hair, before nodding her silent permission to speak.

"I'm here to report on the progress with the four Servants you asked us to deal with, my lady. We managed to capture all four, but three of them chose to self-destruct their Saint Graphs rather than be taken prisoner. The fourth is in our custody, however."

Despite this news, the red-clad woman smirked; one out of four was more than she had expected, and to have captured them and forced three to self-destruct rather than simply kill them outright truly spoke of the skill of the Servants she had called upon. Even that beast of hers apparently had plenty of finesse when it had a handler...

"Did you determine their identities?"

The Rider nodded in response.

"The three that self-destructed were exactly who you believed they were, as they revealed through their Noble Phantasms. Archer of Lemuria - True Name: Hou Yi. Lancer of Elysium - True Name: Conall Cernach. And Caster of Ys - True Name: Deganawida. As for the Servant we've convinced to join our cause..."

The Rider snapped her fingers, and the doors practically flew open, but not by force of entry, rather as if some mysterious force opened them on their lonesome. Regardless, moments later, a short young woman in a simple white dress, her blue hair flowing about like she was submerged underwater, pushed another young woman forward, her hair bright red and kept short, save for it being tied into a single pigtail on one side.

Dressed in bronze armor that was a little worn and battered from battle, the red-haired warrior stepped inside, no weapons in hand. Looking up at the woman she had been brought before, then to the feather-cloaked woman to her right, she eventually bent her knee before the woman she was now clearly acknowledging as her new Master.

"...I am here in exchange for my former Master's life and safety. I pledge myself as the former Saber of Valhalla to your cause, Master, and from this moment forth, will act as your Servant, in the name of the House of Atlantis. And my True Name is..."

...

============================================================

(♫)

"You've gotta be kidding me! How many of these things are there living in these stupid tunnels?!"

Honestly, some part of you has to agree with the red-haired Assassin you'd brought along with you, the fiery Sun Shangxiang who was to serve as the primary muscle of your team - ironically, despite being one of the classes least-suited to frontline combat. Still, her martial arts were serving her well in dealing with the odd mole-like monsters that had been attacking your group on the regular almost since you arrived in the pitch-black tunnels your rayshift had seemingly dumped you in. If only this wasn't the fifth pack of the beasts that had come crawling out of the walls...

"Now, now, don't complain so much, Assassin. You're doing wonderfully."

Of course, fighting in the dark would have been much more difficult; luckily, you'd planned on that and brought along the ever-resourceful - if somewhat sardonic - Caster, Albert Einstein. Sure, using his Galvanism and Item Construction abilities to generate light for your group might have been a rather mundane use of his legendary scientific mind, but it was just one of many reasons you brought him - there was no guarantee you'd be able to see underground like in Agartha, after all!

"Says the one holding the metaphorical torch and not contributing to battle beyond that."

At least, so spoke the Rider you'd chosen to accompany you to serve as a jack-of-all-trades, but especially a diplomat - Maria Theresa, the Holy Roman Empress of the Habsburg Empire, herself! She was no slouch with a sword or a bow, of course, but she had a medley of abilities and a keen political and diplomatic mind, something you felt might be necessary if there truly was a Holy Grail War going on; you'd need as many allies as possible to get to the bottom of this Singularity...

"Hey now, no fightin' amongst ourselves! We've got enough trouble with these vermin!"

And the ever level-headed Archer, Annie Oakley, had a point, audible even over the ring of her gunfire in the echoing tunnels. An excellent scout and sharpshooter, she was no Assassin when it came to hiding her presence, but with keen eyes and ears, a fast pair of feet and an even faster trigger finger, she was sure to pull her weight when it came to keeping the party appraised of what was ahead of them. At least, she would be if they could ever get out of these tunnels...

"Master! I think we're almost out! I see another light source from ahead of us!"

But leading the pack and protecting the group from the bulk of the horde was your ever-reliable Shielder, Mash. Even without Galahad's cooperation, she remained your most trustworthy companion and eternal shield. And so, you trusted her implicitly when she said she saw the end of the tunnel, you urged the rest of your team to push onwards through the horde of strange molerats, eventually breaking through and escaping far enough that they no longer hounded you. And sure enough, after a short while further, you stepped into the area of a larger area...

(♫)

Only to be completely awestruck by what you saw. Back in Agartha, it was as if you had been transplanted back onto the surface, and that in itself was unusual, but here, in this massive cavern, you saw what could only be described as... civilization. Stood on a cliff overlooking an almost modern-looking city hewn out of stone and wood, this was no wild and untamed land of fantasy, no ancient battleground of gods... This was a bustling city full of people and life.

"Hey, am I just seeing things, or is that... the biggest freaking tree ever? Not counting those weird Lostbelt things."

Turning your attention to Shangxiang, who was stood a little higher on the ridge you had all come out onto, you looked in the direction she was looking in, and your eyes went wide. That was no exaggeration she'd made; while the Trees of Emptiness were certainly massive, they only vaguely resembled actual trees. What you were looking at... There was no doubt about it. That was an absolutely massive naturally-grown tree! Roots that divided the city into clear sections, a trunk that had to stretch for at least half a mile tall - ten times larger than the largest tree on the surface, from what you could remember - and the leaves... wait, the leaves?

It was only then that you realized the light of the "sky" above you wasn't actually the sky. It was... the tree's branches and leaves?! They glowed with such a gentle light that it was like there was a soft, blue sky above you, so easy on the eyes that you hadn't even noticed! It encapsulated the entire ceiling, save for a few large stalactites that almost looked like upside-down mountains protruding through the clouds from a land above the sky, making for a truly beautiful and wonderous sight...

Only for an oddly-familiar voice to break the silence and awe that your group was in as they overlooked the locale.

"Hm, so you're the source of all of that ruckus and magical energy. I don't recognize you. Who are you?"

Turning your head to look at the source of the voice, you felt your heart practically jump into your throat and silence any response you might've had.

♫

...It can't be.

You watched her die.

You stood helplessly as she begged for help, for a second chance.

How is she here?

A pair of golden eyes look over you suspiciously, that ever-familiar silver hair, that stern look judging you silently... It's been so many years since you've seen them, but you recognize them on sight. It's an appearance that haunts your dreams on occasion, still begging for help.

The first life you failed to save because of your own weakness.

Olga Marie Animusphere.

You can't help but say her name when your throat finally relaxes enough to speak, an action that causes her to raise an eyebrow on her part. And yet, while there is suspicion in her expression, her reaction... isn't quite what you expected.

"Oh, you recognize me? Well, that's good, it saves me some effort on introductions, but you still haven't answered my question."

In your complete focus on the woman in front of you, however, you failed to notice the individual at her side, a rather pretty young man with a sword at his hip and a polite, if disciplined, countenance about him.

"Master, those five... They are Servants. But the girl in armor is different, somehow."

That caused Olga to turn her attention to the young man who was presumably her Servant, and suddenly regard you with a much more suspicious look. Luckily, Maria stepped up to speak when she realized you nor Mash seemed quite up to the task.

"Apologies, our Master has been quite disoriented, as of late. Recent events, plus the strain of supporting multiple Servants, weakened as we might be, has taken its toll on them."

Thankfully, her words seemed to have the desired effect; rather than grow irritated as the Olga Marie you knew might have, the one in front of you seemed legitimately surprised, even a bit concerned.

"You're supporting them all on your lonesome? That would explain how you managed to survive out here without being discovered for this long... Still, that’s no easy feat. No wonder you’re not all there."

The Servant at her side still regarded you with suspicion, but it seemed for now that Maria had bought your group some tentative understanding, despite your shock and, admittedly, minor fatigue... Thankfully, the Mystic Code that Da Vinci provided was holding up and keeping the large amount of prana from overwhelming you, but you were still suffering some ill effects.

"Yes. If at all possible, we'd like to find some place to rest, if you know somewhere nearby... That preferably isn't infested with wild animals."

Mash had finally managed to speak, which also helped you gather your senses and agree with her. The how and why Olga Marie was here, of all places, you'd figure out later. For now, you needed to get a handle on your situation, and setting up a base of operations sounded like a good start.

"...Hm. All right, I'll bring you to our headquarters. We'll get you up to speed there, and who knows? Someone as talented as you, able to not just support but command clear loyalty from such a wide variety of Servants could be able to give us just the hand we need."

The genuine praise surprised you almost as much as her presence did, even if you weren’t entirely sure what she’d meant; the Olga Marie you knew wasn't one to give out compliments so easily to a stranger. Was this truly the same woman you had failed to save all those years ago...? For now, it seemed you'd have to follow her and her Servant to find out...

[cantankerouscatfish]

in the city, there's a tan stone building with beautiful carvings on the front and around the windows, statues above the entry door, art deco style as a lot of the city tends to be. looks well-cared for overall. lovely building.

it is currently home to a store that is having a sale, so they have one of those big red air wiggle guys on the sort-of-balcony over the entry. dancing away bracketed on either side by the stone statues. alright.

[muraliarchitects]

Aadaleesan Residence at Thanjavur

Situated on a linear plot measuring 3457 sq. ft is a regional traditional dream house in Thanjavur. This architectural intervention has found its place in an inner residential zone, serving as a reminder of our traditional vernacular architecture infused with a modern twist. The layout of this linear plot has been meticulously planned to create a seamless flow, with interconnected spaces abound. To ensure a consistent visual appeal, courts have been strategically positioned along the periphery rather than in between. These sun courts and green courts allow natural light to permeate the house all day long. Thinnai spaces have been integrated around these courts, paying homage to the essence of vernacular courtyard house styles. Upon entry, the warm color palette immediately sets a lively and welcoming tone. The inclusion of thinnai spaces in the foyer and living areas adds a relaxed touch for the occupants. The Double height living area and play area are bathed in sunlight from three sides by sun courts, fostering a bright and airy ambiance that seamlessly merges indoor and outdoor spaces. Pergolas have been installed above all these courts to enhance security. A clear visual connection runs from the living area to the sunken play area, the reading area on the mezzanine, the dining area with the kitchen, and all the corridors linking the bedrooms on the first floor. The Mother's room is strategically positioned at the intersection of the internal space and the external entry zone, providing a vantage point for overseeing all activities in and around the house. Opening up to a green space along the front line, the Mother's room offers a serene retreat. The remaining bedrooms are situated on the first floor, connected by an open passageway overlooking the double-height area. Corridors and balconies are adorned with camp jaali work along the exterior, ensuring privacy from outside views while allowing occupants to enjoy the surroundings. Built-in cement furniture throughout the house complements the structure and reduces the need for additional furniture purchases. Materials such as aathangudi tiles, terracotta tiles, porotherm bricks, and exposed concrete enhance the warm and rustic aesthetic of traditional regional architecture. A modern twist is introduced through the use of geometric patterns in the aathangudi tiles, creating a playful contrast with the yellow tiles. Breathable porotherm bricks are used for wall construction, offering an eco-friendly and cost-effective solution. Reused terracotta tiles are incorporated into the construction of the compound wall using Random rubble masonry, elevating the traditional exterior aesthetic.