#candelabra ship child

[askthe-iii-shipchildren]

I love this meme and I wanted to contribute

The ship kid is called Cherry and she was made by my moot @zeepuu hehe

[xinnamonbun]

Inanimate Insanity: Weddings Candelabra & Red: Part 1

@askthe-iii-shipchildren

Remember when you said "they're going to need a ladder when if they get married"?

TA DA! :D

(at least the dress)

LOOK for some reason I've had some wedding fever so when you mentioned it...I JUST HAD TO

Originally my plan was to draw the dress, suit, and then bonus fun stuff that happened at the wedding. However I swiftly realized that I would not be able to do all of that in a day and I wanted to post at least something relating to the wedding on the same day it was mentioned.

I'll probably do Red's suit tomorrow

(Lighter dress Ver.)

Me RN fr:

[infinite-ticking-clock37]

DONEE

@spiritmander13

[westeroslive]

𝘈𝘙𝘊  𝘐,  𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤  𝖳𝖧𝖤  𝖯𝖱𝖮𝖯𝖧𝖤𝖢𝖸  :  𝗌𝗎𝗇  𝘰𝘳  𝗆𝗈𝗈𝗇,  𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍  𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅  𝗍𝗁𝖾  𝖼𝖺����𝖽𝗅𝖾𝗌  𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝖺𝗅  ?

the  great  sept’s  bells  filled  the  air  for  hours  the  day  dragonstone’s  firstborn  drew  their  first  breath.  mother  and  babe  remain  in  seclusion  as  is  tradition  across  the  sea  -  feet  may  stand  upon  new  shores  but  home  remains  in  the  princess’  heart.  time  flows  until  day  the  heir  of  the  heir  is  to  be  presented  to  the  realm.  elegant  scripture  adorned  with  dragon  sigil  beckon  nobles  from  both  empires  back  to  king’s  landing  where  alliance  was  forged  before  the  gods  and  sealed  by  fire.

no  expense  is  spared  in  an  act  of  devotion  for  the  child  and  everything  they  represent,  the  crown  jewel  of  the  dragonlords  and  their  kingdom.  with  a  newborn  targaryen  comes  a  reptilian  egg  in  their  cradle  -  pledged  for  life,  another  play  of  power  over  the  great  houses  and  the  role  they  portray  in  the  courtly  web.    

as  the  hour  of  dusk  draws  near,  the  nobility  step  beyond  the  quarters  graciously  provided  by  royal  hosts  and  travel  to  the  great  hall.  unlike  upon  their  arrival,  they  find  the  doors  unlocked,  opened  with  a  flourish  to  reveal  celestial  bodies  that  paint  the  hall  in  gold  and  silver.  most  of  the  candles  that  line  the  room  remain  unlit,  preventing  time  from  existing  firmly  in  one  place  -  the  great  hall  exists  before  dawn  and  before  dusk  simultaneously.  nine  candles  stand  apart  from  the  rest;  the  metal  holding  the  unlit  wax  woven  in  intricate  shapes,  echoes  of  the  great  houses  the  youngest  dragon  royal  shall  one  day  rule  over,  all  nine  connected  to  the  largest  display  in  the  center  of  the  hall.

when  all  guests  have  entered  the  doors  open  once  more;  quiet  gasps  fall  from  lips  when  her  majesty,  queen  rhaena  targaryen  is  revealed,  silencing  the  whispers  that  her  constitution  would  prove  weak  for  even  the  briefest  of  appearances.  divine  grace  stands  at  the  head  of  the  room,  stature  as  regal  as  ever  -  the  dim  light  and  careful  work  of  her  handmaidens  prevent  all  eyes  from  perceiving  the  heavy  powder  that  covers  her  visage,  preventing  rumors  from  growing  into  truth.  prince  and  princess  of  dragonstone  enter  alongside  her.

only  then  do  those  of  court  realize  what  the  amethyst  princess  learned  earlier.  the  emperor  and  empress  fail  to  be  in  attendance,  sending  their ambassador  with  a  letter  and  a  ship  full  of  treasures  and  gifts  for  both  mother  and  child  in  lieu  of  their  attendance.  the  tears  their  daughter  sheds  upon  learning  of  their  failure  to  attend  the  sacred  celebration  go  unseen  to  the  court’s  ever  watching  eye,  known  only  to  her  guards  and  husband  alike.  their  absence,  however,  is  noted,  with  several  curious  eyes  of  essos  left  wondering  if  the  murmurings  of  the  emperor’s  displeasure  are  true.  little  time  is  permitted  to  linger  upon  such  questions  as  dragon  queen  takes  her  place  upon  her  throne.    

it  is  announced  that  the  child  shall  be  revealed  with  an  act  of  grand  illumination  -  if  you  please.  the  queen  utters  from  her  place  upon  golden  throne,  and  one  by  one  -  from  the  northmost  region  of  her  kingdom  to  the  south  -  the  head  of  each  ruling  family  light  their  candle.  the  flame  slowly  dances  down  the  silver  threads  tying  them  to  the  final  candle  at  the  center  of  the  room,  reserved  for  the  prince  and  princess  themselves.  with  hands  joined,  they  light  the  final  taper  within  the  candelabra,  this  one  threaded  with  silver  strands.  as  the  flames  join  together,  light  illuminates  the  great  hall,  all  previously  sleeping  candles  awakening,  transforming  not  into  vibrant  rays  of  the  sun  but  reflections  of  moonlight  for  the  gods  have  gifted  the  royal  couple  a  daughter.   

the  royal  couple’s  smiles  shine  brightest  as  for  the  first  time  they  introduce  their  firstborn  to  the  nobility.

announcing,  for  the  first  time,  the  future  of  westeros,  princess  rhaella  targaryen.

OUT OF CHARACTER: SUN OR MOON ?

and  with  this  we  bid  you  'bonjour'.  our  opening  event  &  the  beginning  of  our  new  arc  will  start  on  april  11  at  5:30  pm  est.  don't  worry  about  not  making  it  immediately  on  opening  night,  the  event  will  last  at  least  until  the  20th  of  april  and  may  be  extended.

the  dress  code  for  the  festivities  is  gold  and  silver,  so  be  aware  that  any  other  color  will  be  heavily  frowned  upon  by  members  of  court.  i  mean  who  would  dare  to  go  against  her  majesty's  wishes  in  this  economy  ?  

after  the  reveal  of  the  newest  member  of  the  targaryen  clan,  nobles  can  party  it  up  at  the  ball.  there  is  music,  there  is  dancing,  enough  drinks  to  fill  the  nile  and  the  sweetest  treats  freshly  made  by  cooks.  some  might  even  suggest  there  are  secret  corridors  to  ...  have  fun,  or  whatever  (  don't  plan  coup's  on  a  baby's  special  day  ).

make  sure  to  tag  all  your  open  starters  under  westeros.eclipse  and  not  the  main  tag  so  all  event  related  starters  are  found  in  one  spot  !  don't  be  afraid  to  cap  your  open  and  closed  starters  -  no  need  to  overwhelm  yourself.  be  sure  to  include  everyone  !

and  finally,  we'll  be  conducting  a  short  activity  check  on  sunday  /  monday  to  see  that  everyone  has  posted  once  on  each  muse,  so  we  can  remove  the  people  that  ghosted.  therefore,  if  you  know  you  won't  have  the  time  this  weekend  -  give  us  a  head's  up  and  we're  good  !  

[heroictoonz]

Sleeping Sculptures [Chapter 3]

Ships: Sonadow, Sonic & Tails

Warnings: Animal death and blood (vampire eats a deer gestures vaguely)

AO3 L!nk in Comments!

Tails made sure the stone was tucked away in his pocket as he walked towards the castle. The streets bustled, but not in a way that was particularly inviting. There was no music or friendly chatter amongst the people. Instead, it was all movement and hushed comments. Tails wasn’t sure why, but he felt like he was being watched through it all.

He kept his head low as he passed through. Once he got to the castle gates two guards stopped him to a halt with long lances cutting off his path.

“State your business,” one hissed out.

“I want to speak with the king,” Tails explained. “There’s been a misunderstanding and my friend and I were attacked by his men on our way here.”

The two guards looked at one another. The second guard looked down at Tails again and said, “Come forward, we must check you for weapons.”

Tails nodded and complied. The two patted over his coat, finding nothing but a small stone. “It’s for good luck,” Tails offered. The guards took the answer and handed it back to him before one escorted him into the castle proper.

Tails held back his sigh of relief. He didn’t want to have his only method of communication taken from him if something really did go wrong.

The inside of the castle was just as gaudy and imposing as the out. Paintings of the king lined the walls between the embroidered curtains that kept the light out of the halls. Instead, they were lit by numerous candles that flickered light against the walls. The candelabras that they passed were golden and jeweled in a way that, to Tails at least, felt excessive. Every few steps Tails saw vases and busts, almost all of them of the king. Every inch screamed the name Robotnik like a prayer to a terrifying and vengeful god. It really didn’t help his confidence in the situation.

As they walked they came into the throne room where the king sat. The man himself and the throne he perched on like a golden gargoyle were both just as intimidating as everything that held his crest. Ivo Robotnik was a large man in every manner of the word. His clothes were adorned in the richest of fabrics and gems and the glasses that sat on his nose were clearly the same gold as his crown. Tails felt as though he was meant to grovel on his knees in such a presence. Instead, he gave a respectful bow and kept his hands to his chest.

“My Liege,” he began. His voice, though timid and soft, echoed within the room like a yell. “My name is Miles Prower, I come all the way from the South Islands in Soleanna—”

“Get to the point,” hissed out the king. His voice was low and raspy but held more power and force in it than anything Tails had ever heard.

The young fox took the warning to heart and quickly explained, “When my travel companion, Sonic, and I entered your land we were immediately attacked by your guards with no question or hesitation.”

The king perked up at this. His eyes latched onto Tails like leeches. The fox wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

“I came because I believe there’s been some huge misunderstanding. Neither one of us have ever even been to Mobius before and are in no way a threat to you or your people.”

There was silence for a moment as the king leaned back with a hand to his chin. He gave a deep nod. “I see,” he finally spoke. “I think you are quite right, Mr. Prower. There indeed has been a mistake.”

Robotnik made a quick motion of his hand, signaling the guard behind Tails to grab the fox’s arms with a sudden and painful grip. The guard threw him to the ground as he let out a cry of pain.

“Hey! What– stop!” Tails cried out as he struggled against the guard. He looked back to the king as the guard tied his hands together and pulled him back up. “I didn’t do anything! I swear!”

Robotnik ignored the child’s pleas and gave another wave of his hand. “Take him to the dungeon. Don’t feed him until I give the word.”

Tails could hardly believe what he’d heard. He was being starved? For what reasons? On what grounds?! He stumbled forward as the guard tugged him towards his fate. Was Sonic right this whole time? Was the great king of Mobius really some insane tyrant?

Tails kept quiet and obedient as he was guided down the castle’s corridors and stairs. They trekked down deeper into the stone building. The farther they went the darker their surroundings became. Finally they reached the bottom where several doors lined a long hall. The guard pulled Tails through one door where he was met with a room cut in half by cell bars.

Behind the bars, in the corner, was a hunched figure. All that Tails could really make out were grayed blue quills and fur mostly obscured by a thin and tattered blanket. The guard opened the door and shoved Tails in violently, causing the fox to crash to his knees.

Tails was able to push himself up to his knees as the guard started back for the door. “Aren’t you gonna untie me?!” he cried out. But the guard ignored him and left. The door shut with a loud SLAM.

Tails let out a sigh. Guess things really weren’t gonna be as easy as he believed. He moved around to try and see if he could grab at the rope or even just loosen it enough to slip free. It wasn’t working but he kept trying. He had to be able to get ahold of the stone in his pocket and signal Sonic.

“You look just like Rosemary,” came a soft and old voice.

Tails’ head snapped towards the other body in the cell with him. Deep brown eyes stared at him past the blanket. Tails stopped struggling as hard to give the other man a questioning look.

“Sorry, did you say ‘Rosemary’?” Tails questioned. “Rosemary Prower?”

The form lifted his head to show that he was a hedgehog. His quills were grayed from age but clearly blue. They seemed unkept and in disarray. “You’re Miles, aren’t you?”

“How do you know my name?”

“I knew your parents,” he said as he sat up fully. He pushed himself to his feet and walked behind Tails, grabbing onto the ropes and untying them as he spoke. “Charles Hedgehog. I worked with your parents many years ago.”

Tails rubbed at his wrists, getting the fur back in place and to comfort the slight burn all the rope rubbing had caused. “Do you know where they are?” he asked.

Charles shook his head with a sad expression. “I’m sorry to say, I don’t. I’m not sure if they made it out alive.”

“What… what do you mean?”

The older hedgehog sat back down to face Tails. He let out a long and heavy sigh. “Your parents used to work here in Mobius. If I’m not mistaken, Rosemary moved here from Soleanna when she was younger. They worked for the queen at the time, but when the castle burnt down…” Charles let out another sigh. It was clear he was not prepared to give this sort of story. “I am truly sorry, my boy.”

Tails’ shoulders fell. He frowned down at his hands. His mother was dead? Was that true? He couldn’t be sure, but… he supposed it was possible. “My… My grandmother told me she had something for me. That it was important that I found her when I was older. If she’s gone…”

“There is some luck in you meeting me here,” Charlies smiled. When Tails shot him a confused look, he continued. “Your mother was meant to tell you what I was to tell my nephew, were I to ever meet him.” He reached into his quills and pulled out a small folded piece of parchment. He handed it over to Tails.

Tails unraveled the paper to find it was a torn piece of a map. From what he could tell, the piece he had held two circled locations. One looked to be near where he grew up in Soleanna. He didn’t recognize the other location, but it was far off for sure.

He looked back up at Charles. “What is this for?” he questioned.

“There is an old legend about an ancient power that was gifted to us from the gods,” he began. “Seven gems that could control the elements of the universe. To keep these gems safe, the gods locked them away on our planet and made keys scattered across the world.”

“And this is a map to the keys?” Tails guessed.

Charles shook his head. “It’s a map to the gems. No one knows where the keys are hidden. It’s said that select individuals will be guided by the gods to the keys when the time is right. You, Miles, are one of those individuals.”

“Me?!”

Charles nodded.

“But—but that can’t be right. I don’t know anything about this kinda stuff! And why do we need these, anyway? What use do we have for the power of the gods?!”

“There is a war brewing.”

Tails frowned. “What?”

“The kingdoms are at each other’s throats and soon the tension will snap. Under it all is an ancient evil that’s using us as pawns. It wishes to undo the balance of the gods and it’s already succeeding.”

“How?”

Charlies raised a hand and gestured around them. “Mobius was not always like this. We once had a goddess watching over us like any other kingdom.”

“Mobius stood as a pantheon once, didn’t it?”

Charlies nodded. “But like any other land, we had one god that called Mobius home. But the kingdom has abandoned her.” He bent forward and tapped a finger on the map in Tails’ hands. “That is why we need the emeralds. Someone must use the gods’ powers to restore the balance and save the kingdoms.”

Tails’ frown didn’t let up. He let his eyes drift over the map. He really didn’t understand why this was what he had to find his mother for. If Tails was honest, he never understood why his mother had to stay so far away from him in the first place. He’d hoped that when he found her that she would have a whole explanation of her absence in his life. Though if his mother was dead that would explain a lot.

“Though,” Tails looked up at Charles when he began speaking again. “I wish I knew a way out of here for you…”

The young fox perked up in realization. That was right! He had to get out of here! Gems or no gems, he wasn’t gonna stay locked up in this cell forever. He folded the map back up and tucked it away in his pockets before pulling out his stone.

He placed the stone on the ground and made a small circle around it in the dirt with his finger. He whispered the incantation, and the stone began to glow a bright yellow.

“Sonic!” he called into it. “Can you hear me?”

Charles perked up at the name, looking at the stone with interest.

“Tails?” replied the static voice. “I hear you. Where are you?”

“I’m in the castle’s dungeon,” Tails explained as he picked the rock back up in his hands. “I think we might be underground somehow. We walked down a lot of stairs.”

“A sending stone?” Charles hummed in interest.

“I’ll be there.” The stone’s glow dissipated. Sonic must have dropped it somewhere… The spell stops working immediately if someone on either side lets go. Tails really wished he hadn’t done that. How was he even going to know where he was going?

Tails gave a sigh and flopped back down on the ground, pocketing the stone once more. He really had worked very hard on them and didn’t want to just leave it there. All he could do now was to wait and hope that Sonic could find him.

“The lad on the other end,” Charles spoke up, bringing Tails’ attention to him again. “You said his name was Sonic?”

Tails nodded. “Yeah, why?”

Charles didn’t speak at first. There was clear and deep hesitation in his expression. “He too is a chosen of the gods.”

Tails raised an eye ridge at the older hedgehog. “How do you know all of this?” he questioned. “Sure you knew my parents but… how do you know about Sonic?”

Charles gave a sad smile. “He is my nephew. His mother was my younger sister.”

Surprise flashed through the young fox’s face at the confession. “You’re Sonic’s uncle?! He’s been looking for you!”

Charles nodded. “I assumed he would be some time soon. I have wanted to be reunited with him for so long… I just wish it could be under better circumstances.”

“Why are you down here?”

“Anyone who defies the king is silenced one way or another.”

Tails frowned out that. “But I never defied the king! I don’t know why he—”

His words were cut off by shouting coming from out the door. There were the sounds of doors slamming as more yelling was thrown around through the halls just behind their cell. Tails stood and grabbed one of the metal bars, looking out with anticipation.

Suddenly, the door blasted open with a flash of blue. Then Sonic was there before them. “Tails!” he cried out.

“Sonic! I can’t believe you actually found me!”

“Yeah, I’m super cool, now less talk,” Sonic hissed out as he slammed a key into the bars. “We ain’t got much more time before they start sending knights down here.” He grabbed Tails’ arm and pulled him out the bars.

“Wait! Sonic, you need to know, this man is—”

“Miles,” Charles cut him off. Tails looked behind him and met the older’s gaze. Charles had a sad smile gracing his lips. “You both should run quickly. The king will not take kindly to a prison break.”

Sonic smiled at the old man and nodded. “No worries, gramps. I’m pretty fast. You wanna ride outta here?”

Charles shook his head. “As kind as the offer is, it would be best I stay. I would just slow you both down.”

The younger hedgehog shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He then picked up Tails in his arms and into a carry. “Hold on tight,” was the only real warning Tails got before suddenly Sonic was running.

Running was an understatement. There really wasn’t another word for it but ‘running’ felt like too small, too weak of a word to describe the speed at which Sonic blasted through the halls and up the castle stairs. Through their travels, Sonic had never once shown such an ability. What would normally be an exhausting trek out the castle and through the village only took them a few minutes.

They stopped inside the foyer of Shadow’s tower. Sonic slammed the door closed and fell against it with a heavy sigh. “I knew letting you go was a bad idea,” he grumbled.

“At least you didn’t go with me,” Tails sighed as he attempted to regain his composure. He was suddenly quite dizzy after Sonic had put him down, definitely not used to going such speeds. He’d have to ask Sonic about that later.

It seemed for now there was a lot he had to catch the hedgehog up on.

***

When Shadow had left Sonic in his home he did so with great apprehension. He wasn’t sure how content he was to leave a complete and total stranger alone in his house. Unfortunately, there really wasn’t any way around it. If Shadow didn’t leave by the full moon he would surely face the consequences.

He’d made his way past the tree line and into the southern forest that lies just behind his tower. He walked with ease under the cover of night as his eyes saw perfectly in the dark. The deeper he went the more he could hear the nocturnal animals around him. He really didn’t feel like traveling too far out this time around, but he made sure he was far enough from any villages or towns that no one would stumble upon him.

As he traveled he kept thinking about Sonic. He wondered if the other would be alright traversing Shadow’s home and especially kitchen. He’d hoped he wouldn’t have any trouble re-bandaging his wounds…

Shadow gave a violent shake of his head. What the hell was he going on about?! Sonic was a grown man from what Shadow could tell and didn’t need to be coddled like a child. Not to mention that the wound seemed to be healing at an almost absurd rate.

Once he had shoved the thoughts back and down his night was average. He found a spot to use during the full moon and slept in a tree during the day. Of course, he didn’t get as much sleep as he would have liked. The energy surging through him as the day went kept him restless and agitated. Not to mention that green eyes seemed to haunt his thoughts in a way that was down right pestering.

When the moon had officially begun to rise as did Shadow. He sat on the branch he’d been resting on all day and looked out around him below. There weren't that many animals. Maybe he should have gone out farther. It seemed hunting was just becoming harder and harder within recent years. He wasn’t sure why that was but it did leave him with a touch of concern.

The higher the moon rose the more the energy in Shadow began to vibrate and burn in his veins. It was an uncomfortable feeling that he could never see anyone enjoying. He’d heard that others like him were much more energetic by the feeling, but not Shadow. It only caused him anxiety and pain.

Once the moon met its peak, as did Shadow. His body was on fire and his mind was fuzzy with hunger and power. He knew it was affecting his form as well. He never wanted to see it again. He never wanted to look at his own face, especially not during the height of his powers.

The rustling of bushes below him grabbed his attention. He could see the antlers poking out from behind and was glad that something had finally showed up.

Throwing himself down from the tree, Shadow landed with a light, eerie step. He kept low as he stalked the creature.

The large buck’s ears flicked about as it listened in to any odd sound the night brought. Unfortunately for it, there was no way it would have heard Shadow in time. Not before he lunged, taking the buck down to the ground and with a swift swipe, slit its throat with his claws.

Silence.

Did the forest know of Shadow’s crimes? Did the owls end their songs early from the horror of what they witnessed? Shadow asked himself such pointless questions so frequently. As he bent down to latch his teeth against the mighty animal’s neck he wondered if he would ever get answers.

Answers for anything. He had more questions than he had years in his life. Questions of who he was, where he came from, why he even existed. His empty and quiet life left many moments for his own thoughts to fill up the silence within his mind. But those thoughts did not always comfort him. In most cases, they tormented him.

He had to admit, with Sonic in his home even for as short as the time was, his thoughts were not so consuming. Having someone in his home with him, even when they were not directly speaking all that much was an odd reprieve from the silence. He almost didn’t want to admit it.

Especially not when such things were only bound to end. Mortals died and left him alone. Many much sooner than later, if his past experiences were anything to go off of. He had no interest in allowing himself to fall victim to such things once more.

Sonic would heal, and then Sonic would leave, and Shadow would continue to be alone.

He lifted his head from the buck with a sigh. He ran a hand over his chin in hopes to clean off any excess blood that dribbled down his fur. He stopped suddenly when the sound of movement echoed out through the quiet forest. His ear twitched out towards it as he listened in.

It was walking. Two pairs of feet. One person was much smaller or lighter just from how their feet fell against the leaves compared to their partner.

Shadow couldn’t let himself be seen like this. He quickly found his way up a nearby tree and hid behind the leafy branches. He made sure that he was silent and unmoving as he watched the sounds turn to visual rustling. Finally, the two figures stepped out and into view.

One he instantly recognized as Sonic of all damn people. The other Shadow didn’t recognize. It was a small, golden-furred fox with twin tails that peeked out from under his cloak.

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Sonic questioned as he looked back to where they’d come from. “All these trees look the same.”

The fox huffed out and frowned up at him. “I’m sure of it. I’m from the South Islands, remember?”

Sonic nodded along, but stopped suddenly in his tracks. He had almost stepped on Shadow’s carnage.

“What the—?!” He looked around suddenly with an almost frightful expression.

His partner, however, kneeled down to examine the creature. Gently using the antlers to move the head around and take a better look at the injury.

“What didn’t pick up after itself?” Sonic hissed out with a worried mumble.

“No animal that I can think of,” the fox responded. “This cut is far too clean, and the lack of clotting blood is all the more curious.”

Sonic put a hand to his hips with a frown. “You think a person did this?”

The fox shook his head. “No I… I’m not sure what did it. The only thing I can think of is a…”

“A what?”

He almost looked nervous to say it. Finally, he looked up to Sonic with a deep frown. “A night creature.”

Sonic raised a brow. “What’s that? Like a bat or somethin’?”

“No,” he shook his head. “It’s… well, technically, they’re just a legend. But my grandma swears they’re real and that she’s seen one! I think other countries call them by different names, but where I’m from, they’re just night creatures. They look like any regular Mobian like you or me, but they sure don’t act like them.”

“How so?”

“They’re nocturnal for one. Only coming out in the night and never in the day.”

Shadow had to keep himself from scoffing at that.

“And they don’t survive off normal food like we do. They…”

“They drink blood?”

The fox nodded.

Sonic frowned down at the deer. “I guess venison is better than Victor,” he mumbled out. He looked back up to his companion. “You think whatever did this is still here? Would it attack us?”

“I’m not sure…” He frowned. “Either way, we should probably keep moving. If it is still out here, I wouldn’t wanna be around to find out.”

Sonic nodded in agreement. He waited for the fox to get back to his feet before the two started off again, away from the deer.

Shadow didn’t move till he knew he wouldn’t get caught. He frowned in thought. They were headed towards the South Islands? But for what reasons? He knew that Sonic had come from Acorn in search of his uncle. Had he found a new lead? If so, why would it lead him across the waters like that…

Shadow had far too many questions and not nearly enough answers. He shouldn’t care. None of this should matter to him. He’d spent so long keeping out of mortal affairs and whatever inanity they tried to bring into his life. It wasn’t his problem, and he made sure it wasn’t his problem.

And yet…

He threw himself a couple trees over, looking out to where the pair was walking. He’d need to wait till morning to show himself, but until then he would follow, watching and waiting.

[hatigave-a]

TO BE CAUGHT IS A MISTAKE she cannot afford, especially not when the Santa Rosa lays light in the waters of the port with a gaping hole in her hull. The ship, like her captain, was made to lay fat and heavy from the weight of the richest she carried. She was not made to be wounded and slow in the waters. FINGERTIPS BRUSH PAST A SILVER CANDELABRA on her path down the hall. It would be so easy to take it in hand and consider her journey complete, but she has never relished in anything easy, and she's already here         ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ might as well indulge.

Adelé had believed the estate to be empty, or at least empty enough that she was allowed the luxury of wandering around aimlessly for a few more moments ( things lost were not easily forgotten, and wealth still held beauty even when it was not immediately shoved into her pockets. ) Today she was wrong. TODAY SHE GOT CAUGHT RED-HANDED ; like a child with the proverbial hand in the proverbial cookie jar. A shame her hands held trinkets and jewellery so clearly not belonging to her.

❝ So, how is this going to play out ? ❞ Her voice is as light as a song as she places the not-yet-stolen items down at her side. ❝ Would you prefer it if I gutted you right here, or are you more of the type who wants to be left tied up to their bed frame and gagged for their troubles ? ❞

@lenzimanot Lysander ♡'d (and got a problem.)

[jadagul]

One of the first computer game I played was the original Civilzation, in like 1991 when I was 5. And they have maybe thirty distinct units, all of which need clear and immediately legible art in something like 30x30 pixels.

So they were all distinct, but some of them weren't very easy to interpret. You start the game off with this guy:

Which is, of course, a settler. (He founds cities and also builds roads and such.) And as an adult, I can tell that this is a covered wagon. But to child-me it always looked like a tooth.

This is a chariot. I can see what they're going for but I always think it looks like a building with a minaret.

Is this a sailing ship or a candelabra? (It's a frigate.)

This tank could be a cartoon dynamite plunger.

this is the shamed anon who saw a cat and then a snail in a trilobite.

i actually saw it was a trilobite when i saw the larger version of the av. this is the flesh failures. :( *marches off as Let the Sunshine In starts playing*

lmao don't feel bad! most people see either a snail or a chicken i think. "trilobite with eyestalks" is definitely not a silhouette people tend to recognize instantly.

in general, i think it's really interesting how people misread small images like pfps. there are unit icons from Warcraft 2 my brain still insists on misreading in weird ways, even though i know what the "correct" image is, just because it's been doing it for decades and it's not about to stop now.

[sezja]

Starlight

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Ship: Sanson/Guydelot

Context: 1, 2, 3

He's never really celebrated Starlight, Guydelot realizes, watching little Maddie dictate orders to Sanson's other nieces and nephew: they're hard at work building a snowman. Or at the very least, she would like them to be; the little ones are too small yet to do much more than crumble the snow between their hands. Guydelot watches from the safe distance of the back step: close enough to observe, but enough of an outsider to avoid being dragged into the festivities.

He's never really celebrated Starlight.

Oh, his parents gave him gifts during the celebration as a child, of course, and he'd always drifted past the decorations at the amphitheatre, taking in the sights... but that was going through the motions. Never any heart in it. They never decorated at home, never had any particular traditions of any note - unless one counted his mother breaking out her seasonal liquors, of course, and Guydelot always made certain to make himself scarce when she did. His father, as was his wont, always spent the holiday hunting, taking advantage of all the other hunters going home to be with their families.

Not much for sentiment, was Guydelot's father. Not much for holiday traditions, neither.

It's different here, with Sanson's family - Sanson himself doesn't seem particularly festive; they haven't decorated back home, beyond a candle here, an ornament there.

Now, Sanson's family, on the other hand! Gods be good, the manor fair glitters; Guydelot could go blind looking at tinsel alone. Trees, decorated so thickly it's a wonder the boughs don't collapse beneath the weight. Mantles decorated with seasonal knickknacks unearthed from the gods alone knew where, polished candelabras, wreaths and ribbons. The dining room glows with polished platters and silverware, ready for a meal the likes of which could feed an army, never mind their small party. Presents in brightly-colored packages, beribboned and pristine.

The children have already gotten a head start on opening their gifts: a small mound of discarded wrapping paper, ribbon, and other sundry packaging detritus littler the ground near the step. Guydelot plucks a ribbon from the snow, winding it idly between his fingers.

"They'll grow bored of it in short order." Sanson's voice nearly startles him, as the man steps outside and offers him a steaming mug. "The snow. And then they'll fuss that it's too cold." For all he complains, Sanson is smiling; there has always been something in him, some tightly-wound knot, that eases here at home with his family.

Guydelot accepts the mug, savoring the warmth as he cradles it in his hands. Cocoa. Peppermint cocoa, if his nose can be trusted. "They don't see snow all that often, I reckon... yet it always snows on Starlight. Why's that, you think?"

Sanson settles uninvited on the step beside him, leaning close for warmth. "I'd not thought to speculate on the nature of snow."

"No? If you ask me," Guydelot offers, grinning. "I'd wager the Elementals do it. Just this time of year. Just for the season."

"They wouldn't," Sanson says, though he sounds uncertain. "'Tis foolish..."

"Aye, but then, what we deem foolish might not be what they deem foolish, eh?" Guydelot sips his cocoa, amused, watching Sanson mull over the possibility. "Might be as we ought to ask a hearer about it-"

"Absolutely not. You will not interrupt a hearer's duty just to inquire-"

"It's important."

"It is not." Sanson's eyes glitter with amusement, as bright as the tinsel inside. "Leave it be."

"Where's your holiday spirit?" Guydelot laughs, setting his mug aside and tying the stray ribbon around his own neck. "See? Here's your present."

It makes Sanson laugh. "Regifting! You were already given to me once - by the Gods' Quiver, who didn't know what they were giving me."

"Now that ain't fair," Guydelot says, protesting. "I think it means a little more coming from me-"

"Aye, fair enough." Sanson tugs the ribbon gently, drawing him closer. "I'll accept my gift with grace, then."

"Might wanna wait a bit to unwrap it."

That earns him a swat - and more laughter, more lovely than any Starlight bell.

He could get used to this holiday, he thinks.

[wildbeautifuldamned]

https://www.1stdibs.com

[bluebellhairpin]

Masquerade

Bruce Wayne X Batmom!Reader

A/N: Goes along the same plane as my other Batmom fic. I think. It’s so short. - Nemo

Summary: You love costumes and getting dressed up. Gotham is known for it’s parties, and this time it’s a masquerade. Although, at a party where everyone wears a mask (in Gotham no less) it seems an invitation for trouble. 

Listening to: ‘Feeling Good’ by Michael Bublé (slowed) - ‘Butterflies all havin' fun, you know what I mean, sleep in peace when day is done, that's what I mean.’

Series Masterlist 

Masterlist  

You loved dressing up. Ever since you were a child, you'd get into your mother's old clothes and make-up, do yourself up to a child's standard of 'fancy', and parade around you home as if you were someone important. 

Now that you're older, that hasn't changed. You still love it, even if the clothes you wear are more expensive, and undoubtedly your own.

Gotham is notorious for three things; crime, rich people, and rich people galas. So well known are Gotham’s galas, and so numerous the rich people, that three weeks without some sort of spruced-up gathering was as unusual as Joker not harassing Batman and the city for more than a month. 

Your favorite of the gatherings, were the themed ones. You know, like having everyone dress in blue, or something linking to the ocean, or costumes and dresses designed to mimic a superheroes (You naturally went as you husbands alter-ego of Batman, while that afternoon you practically had to wrestle said husband into a Superman themed costume). 

Tonight was another themed gala, a masquerade, and you were over the moon with joy. In true masquerade fashion, you’d already heard of a number of people coming as their own versions of characters from Phantom of the Opera. Pulling a Phantom costume on Bruce - as nice as he’d look with it on - wasn’t unique enough this time. 

Your eldest son, Dick, was going a Raoul anyway. He's always been the dramatic one, and you could see the similarities between him and Raoul, so it fits. 

Jason had gathered together a costume, fit with a full-face skull mask, for the occasion. Technically he was still dead, so a masquerade was a good opportunity for him to join the family to the gala. 

Tim was difficult to pick for, but he eventually agreed to something simple, and Gothic. In tune with the true masquerade fashion. You thought he looked like a vampire.

For Damian, it was much harder. When it came to dressing up in more than a suit he was just like his father, but you managed to pull him around when you brought out a mask that came complete with buck horns. 

You and Bruce would be in costumes themed as Hades and Persephone. Yours was flowery and, as Bruce described it, heavenly. 

He was handsome as ever, and had vouched for a painted-on mask rather than a real one, so you went with that too. The area around both of your eyes were painted black or white, and splattered with shining gold leaf. 

The five of you - Jason (dubbed Jake for the night) arriving incognito - were a sight to behold. 

Cameras flashed, people yelled, and you all having been weathered to this situation walked through it without so much as flinching -stopping for mandatory photos and some questions along the way. 

Inside was as extravagant as ever. Two chandeliers hung from the ceiling, sending a warm glow and sparkles around the room. Candelabras were sitting wherever the chandeliers light couldn't reach, and sheer red fabric wrapped across the ceiling and down the walls. The people were dressed as fancy as the room was decorated. All colors made an appearance, and masks of all sorts made their debut. 

It was fantastic. You felt like you were practically glowing. 

A few hours later and the gala was in full swing. Some were already tipsy, and a number had already been shipped off home. Other had run off to more secluded areas of the host building  - not being able to wait until they themselves got home. Damian was glued to your side, watching you as you filtered your way from person to person, group to group, chatting to anyone and everyone - even though he knew you weren’t exactly the most social person ever. These parties made you a new person. 

Bruce was stuck between joining you at your unoccupied side, and making his own conversation with businessmen and women. He preferred one much more to the other. 

Dick was very happy to loiter around the bar, finding enough entertainment in the people and false comfort he could provide there.

Tim was very content watching whoever decided to dance - which on two occasions were you and Damian, then you and Bruce. 

Jason - Jake - was yet to take off his mask, and had gained a small hoard of people who were betting on what it would take to get him to take it off. 

All-in-all, everyone seemed to be having an OK time. Until smoke started billowing out of the vents near the floor. 

You thought it was amazing. Even though every one of your family members were in very different parts of the venue, they managed to share looks and all took off. You also managed to sulk away - only you remaining of the Wayne's would look suspicious. 

By the end of the night, the ruckus was dealt with, and everyone was sent home. You only really liked two things more than dressing-up; your family, and a good chase. Tonight had all three. And laying in your bed, husband by your side, and youngest son drifting in and out of sleep on your stomach, you couldn’t think of any night better than this one. 

The night of the masquerade.

[xinnamonbun]

I know that this is like a year old BUT I NEED TO TALK ABOUT SHIP KIDS

I could literally talk about this topic for HOURS so I'm going to try and squish this as much as I can (which is going to be hard)

Fantube:

Amount:

They already have two kids (Foster Egg and Bot) but I think they would have three more- (STAY WITH ME) 3D Glasses (referencing how fan likes media and test tubes beta design being goggles), Pamphlet (science pamphlet for testing and fan because paper), and Bookmark (books are seen as smart so Test Tube but also are a geeky thing so Fan and also made of paper again)

General Parenting:

They'd get better ever kid but I think the whole thing would be the lesson of "there is always more to learn with parenting"

Bonus?:

I think they'd be the first one to be grandparents

Payjay: (@pencilgutz /you know why I'm tagging you)

Amount:

I think they'd have 1 or 2. For the sake of talking we're going with 2. Paper Carton (drink container and paper) and Glass Pen (adopted but reasoning is OJ has glass and you write on paper with pen)

General Parenting:

They're honestly pretty good at it! But like any parents they mess up- what makes them good is that they usually fix those mistakes

Bonus:

I feel like most people go to them or fantube for babysitting, it definitely helps that half of them still live in hotel oj

Silvercandle:

Amount:

I think they'd have one. I don't want to say candelabra BUT ITS LITERALLY CANNON (dee voice of candle was asked "what's their ship child" and they said Candelabra) but we're trying to make something different so let's say...Lighter (metal silver and fire)

General Parenting:

They'd obviously love them but I think they would unintentionally be bad parents in different ways (silvercandle shippers don't come after me; jk I'd love to hear you fight me on this) silver would be very overbearing and way too protective and basically not let them do anything. Candle would help them calm down however down the line this would (unintentionally) cause them to not talk to her about things because from their perspective candle would just "shut them up"

Bonus:

I think because of the previously stayed in parenting issues they would end up basically having two sides of themselves; "perfectly elegant object" and "rebel" when they're with their friends. Which probably causes problems down the line...

Lightbrush:

Amount:

I think 2. Glow in the Dark Paint (Glow like lightbulb and paint with paintbrush) and Digital Pen (electric like lightbulb and art utensils)

General Parenting:

I don't think I even really need to say this but Lightbulb WOULD be the fun parent doing fun things like arts and crafts, fishing, starting car games like I spy on road trips, ect. Paintbrush would be the more grounded parent that is trying to make functional adults. I feel like Lightbulb as the fun parent makes paintbrush want to and fail to get closer with the kids because they are only seen as "the one who gives the lectures" or "the chore giver" vs Lightbulb who's the "fun one" the "cool one"

Bonus:

Light bulb is not only the fun mom, she is also the fun aunt. If she's babysitting the kids get excited.

Knifkle: (is that how you spell it?)

Amount:

One. Potato Peeler (kitchen utensils that is sharp like knife used on vegetables like pickle... Since that second part is a bit of a stretch why don't we make them green too)

General Parenting:

Knife is actually really good at being a cool enough parent that their kid WANTS to talk to them about their problems and pickle is basically their first bestie very loving when their kid asks "how do planes fly?" They find out together

Bonus:

Because of knife and pickles good parenting, I think they end up being very good at reading other object's emotions and are just really good at getting objects to open up

Microsoap:

Amount:

One. Hairbrush (adopted, don't tell me you've never sung in the shower with a hairbrush instead of a microphone, showers have soap, and hair brushes are kind of a part of hygiene)

General Parenting:

I think they'd be pretty average when it comes to how good at it they are. Soap would be an expert in diagnosing their own child tho. Mic would also be very against secrets which worked out well at first but of course every child's ganna have some secrets

Bonus:

Because my whole justification for this object was basically shower, they really likes swimming

Suitloon:

Amount:

One. Hot Air Balloon (is used to carry things like a suitcase and also has straps to connect to the balloon, I don't need to explain balloon)

General Parenting:

Oh they baby this child. Which is obviously what you're supposed to do when they are a baby but when 14+...not so much. Their main priorities are making sure that they're kind (Fair) and being protective not OVERPROTECTIVE just protective... Maybe just a little over.

Bonus:

it took a really long time for them to have the child because of the... Process. (Idk with the object "process" is but whatever it is I imagine they have a distaste for it since I head Canon both of them to be on the asexual spectrum) however they ended up agreeing that they did want a family. And they are very satisfied with the one that they have.

Remember when I said I could talk about this for hours? Turns out I was talking about it for hours anyways! A lot of stuff that I wanted to add ended up getting hydraulic pressed so I've been typing and saving this as a draft for a while.

...

DAMN IT NOW IVE GOTTEN ATTACHED TO SHIP CHILDREN AGAIN-

I'm bored.

Y'all give me your interpretations of inanimate insanity shipchildren.

[askthe-iii-shipchildren]

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE =D

There are some fun hidden little details I added in this and I am also jus VERY proud of this in general =]

Gonna tag my buddys below the cut I really want this to be seen I spent so long on it BUT WORTH IT I AM SO HAPPY WITH IT

@xinnamonbun

@spiritmander13

@mxmc13

@4ls0l1t3r4llyunr34l also tagging you cuz Medal and Cheesewheel

[xinnamonbun]

I NEED TO TALK ABOUT SHIP KIDS!

I could literally talk about this topic for HOURS so I'm going to try and squish this as much as I can (which is going to be hard)

Fantube:

Amount:

They already have two kids (Foster Egg and Bot) but I think they would have three more- (STAY WITH ME) 3D Glasses (referencing how fan likes media and test tubes beta design being goggles), Pamphlet (science pamphlet for testing and fan because paper), and Bookmark (books are seen as smart so Test Tube but also are a geeky thing so Fan and also made of paper again)

General Parenting:

They'd get better ever kid but I think the whole thing would be the lesson of "there is always more to learn with parenting"

Bonus:I think they'd be the first one to be grandparents

Payjay: (@pencilgutz /you know why I'm tagging you)

Amount:

I think they'd have 1 or 2. For the sake of talking we're going with 2. Paper Carton (drink container and paper) and Glass Pen (adopted but reasoning is OJ has glass and you write on paper with pen)

General Parenting:

They're honestly pretty good at it! But like any parents they mess up- what makes them good is that they usually fix those mistakes

Bonus:

I feel like most people go to them or fantube for babysitting, it definitely helps that half of them still live in hotel oj

Silvercandle:

Amount:

I think they'd have one. I don't want to say candelabra BUT ITS LITERALLY CANNON (dee voice of candle was asked "what's their ship child" and they said Candelabra) but we're trying to make something different so let's say...Lighter (metal silver and fire)

General Parenting:

They'd obviously love them but I think they would unintentionally be bad parents in different ways (silvercandle shippers don't come after me; jk I'd love to hear you fight me on this) silver would be very overbearing and way too protective and basically not let them do anything. Candle would help them calm down however down the line this would (unintentionally) cause them to not talk to her about things because from their perspective candle would just "shut them up"

Bonus:

I think because of the previously stayed in parenting issues they would end up basically having two sides of themselves; "perfectly elegant object" and "rebel" when they're with their friends. Which probably causes problems down the line...

Lightbrush:

Amount:I think 2. Glow in the Dark Paint (Glow like lightbulb and paint with paintbrush) and Digital Pen (electric like lightbulb and art utensils)

General Parenting:

I don't think I even really need to say this but Lightbulb WOULD be the fun parent doing fun things like arts and crafts, fishing, starting car games like I spy on road trips, ect. Paintbrush would be the more grounded parent that is trying to make functional adults. I feel like Lightbulb as the fun parent makes paintbrush want to and fail to get closer with the kids because they are only seen as "the one who gives the lectures" or "the chore giver" vs Lightbulb who's the "fun one" the "cool one"

Bonus:

Light bulb is not only the fun mom, she is also the fun aunt. If she's babysitting the kids get excited.

Knifkle: (is that how you spell it?)

Amount:

One. Potato Peeler (kitchen utensils that is sharp like knife used on vegetables like pickle... Since that second part is a bit of a stretch why don't we make them green too)

General Parenting:

Knife is actually really good at being a cool enough parent that their kid WANTS to talk to them about their problems and pickle is basically their first bestie very loving when their kid asks "how do planes fly?" They find out together

Bonus:

Because of knife and pickles good parenting, I think they end up being very good at reading other object's emotions and are just really good at getting objects to open up

Microsoap:

Amount:

One. Hairbrush (adopted, don't tell me you've never sung in the shower with a hairbrush instead of a microphone, showers have soap, and hair brushes are kind of a part of hygiene)

General Parenting:

I think they'd be pretty average when it comes to how good at it they are. Soap would be an expert in diagnosing their own child tho. Mic would also be very against secrets which worked out well at first but of course every child's ganna have some secrets

Bonus:

Because my whole justification for this object was basically shower, they really likes swimming

Suitloon:

Amount:

One. Hot Air Balloon (is used to carry things like a suitcase and also has straps to connect to the balloon, I don't need to explain balloon)

General Parenting:

Oh they baby this child. Which is obviously what you're supposed to do when they are a baby but when 14+...not so much. Their main priorities are making sure that they're kind (Fair) and being protective not OVERPROTECTIVE just protective... Maybe just a little over.

Bonus:

it took a really long time for them to have the child because of the... Process. (Idk with the object "process" is but whatever it is I imagine they have a distaste for it since I head Canon both of them to be on the asexual spectrum) however they ended up agreeing that they did want a family. And they are very satisfied with the one that they have.

Remember when I said I could talk about this for hours? Turns out I was talking about it for hours anyways! A lot of stuff that I wanted to add ended up getting hydraulic pressed so I've been typing and saving this as a draft for a while....

DAMN IT NOW IVE GOTTEN ATTACHED TO SHIP CHILDREN AGAIN-

[infinite-ticking-clock37]

Baby Candelabra

Ik she looks wonky but it's ok babies are always wonky

[dwellordream]

You don your Victorian nightgown, let down your hair, and grab your candelabra because now it's time to follow around Rhaenyra! How are you advising her? You can be her ghost friend from childhood if that would eeasier. You an not beat Daemon to death with your candelabra but you may keep him up nights with ghostly whispering and moaning and rattling of chains.

If I can’t hit Daemon with my candelabra can I at least get the ghost of Rhea Royce in here to tag-team haunt him with me? If I am Rhaenyra’s ghost friend from childhood than I guess my main goal is to improve her PR, because... it needs a lot of work. Rightful claims or not aside, none of that means jack shit if she keeps giving the Hightowers ammunition to slander her with.  Since I can only appear to Rhaenyra, there’s not much I can do to prevent Viserys from remarrying, and as soon as he remarries and has children with Alicent, the Dance is going to inevitably happen. Luckily, there’s still a lot of time before he actually dies. My immediate plan is to encourage Rhaenyra to play up her role as Viserys’ dutiful and beloved firstborn child as much as possible, while trying to minimize her relationship with Daemon as much as possible. His very presence around her is contributing to rumor after rumor after rumor all spurred on by the Hightowers, who will use his controversial rep whenever possible to slander Rhaenyra.  Basically I want to be like ‘listen, Rhaenyra, I get that Uncle Daemon is fun and exciting, but if you want to be queen someday you cannot just surround yourself with fun and exciting people at the expense of your reputation. It sucks but that’s the cards you’ve been dealt. You can be perfectly pleasant to Uncle Daemon, you can spend time with Uncle Daemon, but you cannot be seen trotting around after Daemon or spending all this time in private behind closed doors with Daemon.’  Now Rhaenyra might be like ‘screw you ghost friend, Uncle Daemon’s so cool and handsome!’ and there’s not much I can do if she elects to ignore my advice, but I also need to keep an eye on the Criston Cole situation, and drill it into her head that ‘I get that he’s one of the hottest most chivalrous men you have ever seen, but he is a no-go zone. Tone down the flirting, don’t say suggestive shit about him to your friends, who will absolutely circulate rumors that you are trying to seduce him, and oh, yeah, DON’T TRY TO SEDUCE HIM. It won’t work and you’ll just feel like a dumb teenager anyways.’ As far as her relationship with Alicent, I have to be like ‘look. I get she kind of sucks. Okay I get she really kind of sucks. But you need to take a deep breath and put on a smiling face around her in public as much as possible, not badmouth her behind her back because it will become court fodder, and more or less act totally unruffled whenever she starts on about her son being King. ignore her as much as you can. do not rise to the bait.’ Once Rhaenyra is of age and takes over Dragonstone, I need to remind her that she must still make frequent trips back to court to play the dutiful daughter, because she does not want to be seen as isolating herself on Dragonstone and not giving a shit about the realm or what happens there. Plus, if she’s gone too much the Greens will work as hard as they can to turn public opinion against her. When it comes to the marriage to Laenor, there’s not much I or Rhaenyra can do to stop that. I basically need to have a frank chat with her and be like ‘listen. I get that you two are not compatible in the least. but if you are going to have an extramarital affair and let children result it, it would really help if those kids did not come out brunette. could you not find a blonde on this island (NOT DAEMON, RHAENYRA) to conduct this affair with instead? or, better yet... not have any kids with men outside of the marriage at all? I know it’s terrible and the situation sucks but even one kid of yours and Laenor’s could go a long way. if not... just don’t get pregnant by anyone.’ I would like to try to prevent Laenor’s murder as a ghost but I don’t think there’s much I can do to stop that, whether it was arranged by the Hightowers or by Daemon himself. In that case, after the fact I need to impress on Rhaenyra that marrying Daemon is not a good idea. It’s not gaining her any wider support, she needs to start looking at other powerful houses, all of whom will be vying for her hand whether she has kids by Harwin or Laenor or not. Plus, especially marrying Daemon so soon after Laenor and Laena’s death is going to look terrible and piss off the Velaryons, some of your closest allies.’  Since I know when Viserys bites the dust, I need Rhaenyra and her strongest supporters at court then. There will probably be bloodshed in the immediate aftermath of his death as the Blacks and Greens clash, but I need Rhaenyra to call for a Great Council immediately. Hopefully Criston Cole has remained loyal to Rhaenyra and so we just have Otto crowning Aegon II, which looks pretty sketchy, and now at this Great Council Rhaenyra really needs to trot out those diplomatic skills (having a husband who was not Daemon would help) and make her case for why she should be queen. If she can get most of the great houses on her side, it’s done. If the Council collapses and there is still a civil war, I need to encourage her to offer some very generous terms of surrender for most of the Greens’ supporters, and to consistently offer those terms throughout the war. Basically, she needs to lay off the knight inquisitors and the random executions and the declaring people who piss her off traitors as much as possible, because as soon as people start to view her as a tyrant who won’t listen to reason, they will jump ship to the Greens, which we do not want.  Anyways I don’t know how much Rhaenyra would listen to ghostly me, but at least if she tones it down a bit and has some better PR she might be the much more popular claimant as opposed to known asshole Aegon II.

[castielscarma]

Kidnapped

(The last part in the #SpnStayAtHome challenge. A huge thank you to @helianthus21 @pray4jensen @bend-me-shape-me for putting together this challenge. It’s been such fun! I chose to write based on a prompt I saw in a Facebook group. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The day was slowly turning into night but it was not yet pitch black, more of a deep dark gray. It suited Dean Winchester just fine. The day had been hot and he welcomed the chill air that caressed his cheek.

He could see the lanterns being lit, vibrant bright beacons that surrounded the castle of OakSpear. He always thought it was a stupid name. The last oak had been cut down centuries ago when the kingdom needed them to build ships to fight a neighboring kingdom and the now ruling family had renamed the castle Oakspear in remembrance.

Oakspear. He'd like to see someone come at him with a damn oak spear. He'd use his blade and cut the spear into toothpicks. Dean turned serious. This was just a quick in and out – an unbidden smile came to him then – and no one was supposed to get hurt. Not a lot at least. If he saw Crowley, Master of the Royal King's Guard though, he'd happily make an exception.  

Dean was up to the castle wall. Stones that were huge and smooth to the touch, seemingly impenetrable greeted him. They were silent and guarded their secrets. Luckily for Dean, he knew of living creatures, with soft flesh and hot blood who didn't keep their knowledge hidden.

Being the most revered or feared person (depending on who you asked) in the kingdom, came with certain responsibilities and Dean “The Michael Sword” Winchester was not one to disappoint.

When he came to the Oakfork –  a small mound of rocks among some bushes – he turned right and counted twenty steps, carefully. Each step was heel against toe until he stopped, facing the castle walls again. To the untrained eye, this expanse of smooth stone looked the same as any other but Dean knew that looks could be deceiving. Standing on his toes, he pressed on a point and a section of the stone wall slowly opened up.

Again he smiled to himself, memories stirring his blood to life. He needed to stop and focus on the task at hand.

Kings and their fear of being kidnapped or attacked. Stupid. Dean walked inside and pressed a point on more coarse rock. The hidden door closed.

Dean knew the way and how the underground tunnel twisted and turned by heart. His night vision was still preserved so he ran. Soon, he came to the exit.

It was nighttime and the chamber pots weren't really needed to the same extent, but Dean nonetheless pressed his ear to the door. To be careful was a wise choice. Castles never slept. He shut down the voice that insisted that what he was about to do wasn't wise.

He couldn't hear anything.

Slowly, he pushed the door open – this one so small that he had to bend himself in half –  and stepped outside.

Ahh, the castle of Oakspear. Even the chamber pots were pristine.

Dean carefully took a step over some pots laying in a stacked pile on the floor and opened that door too. The storage for the chamber pots was at the far end from where the royal rooms where.

Dean sneaked out on soft leather boots and entered a hallway. Here and there lanterns glowed, the light shining on the stone walls but no guards were there. Not that Dean had expected any. Chamber pots were not treasured by the king.

As he walked further into the heart of the castle, it slowly came to life. He could hear the soft murmurs of servants going about their business even at these hours. He clutched his side, where his knife was hidden. The Michael Sword he'd decided to leave behind, but if anyone thought that he'd be less dangerous with a knife, they were fools.

Enough with the tiptoeing. Time to spring the plan into action. Not that Dean really had a plan. He had a semblance of things he knew about Oakspear, guard routines, where most of the exits were. Where the royal jewelry was stashed. He banished all the images that suddenly flooded his mind.

Maybe he should have stopped at the second ale, but the third was blessed the saying went.

Boots on stone alerted him to a group of guards close by, and by the sound of it they were coming his way. Dean's heart sped up. It wasn't fear, just exhilaration that called his body into action. There was a door further ahead, but he wasn't sure where it would lead. If someone was behind it, they were most likely sleeping but if not, their screams would alert the guards.

Dean looked up and saw a wooden support beam. He squinted. It was possible. Sure, he had some alcohol in his blood but his reflexes were legendary. Villagers still talked about him and that cock. The bird kind.

Taking a step back, Dean ran as fast as he could and took a leg to the wall, pressing himself upwards. Be a cock. Fly! He remembered that cocks didn't really fly but his fingers gripped tightly around wood anyway. He hoisted himself up and perched from his position, looking at the guards that walked right beneath him.

The lanterns chased some of the darkness away but not often did people think to look up. Dean pressed himself to the roof and watched as the guards walked past him none the wiser. He counted to five and jumped down again.

Two turns later and barely avoiding a stray guard running – probably to take a piss – Dean was almost to the royal sleeping quarters. He turned a corner and ran straight into Crowley.

Crowley's eyes widened briefly but Dean was faster. He tightened his fist and planted it squarely on that pompous face of Crowley.  

Crowley covered his face for a split second, before looking at Dean with hatred in his eyes. “I know you! You won't escape, Dean Winchester!” Crowley swung at him.

Dean ducked with ease. “I'm surprised you do. The picture on the wanted posters doesn't look anything like me. But nothing could do this pretty face justice. But no need for the 'Winchester', I thought you and me were closer than that. Remember that night in Edmond – “

Crowley screamed and lunged at him.

Apparently Crowley didn't want to remember.

Dean grimaced as his head hit the ground, the thud reverberating through his teeth but was soon accompanied by a sickening crack.

“You'll rot in a dungeon.” Crowley throw away the candelabra and grabbed Dean by his tunic.

Blood ran down into Dean's left eye, obscuring his vision. He could feel the pointy end of a blade pressing into his back.

“If you just let me grab my sword again, we can cross them.”

“I swear by all that's holy, if you don't shut your mouth right now, I'll gut you.”

That was the thing with Kingsguards. They got fat and complacent. Much like the house cats who were content to drink milk and take whatever scraps their masters gave them, ultimately forgetting that they had claws.

Crowley pushed Dean forward, his sword at the ready.

Dean grunted, but didn't turn around to punch him as he wanted to. Instead, he walked slowly, hunched. The model prisoner. When he saw that Crowley was ushering him along to that room, he bent his head down, a smile on his lips.

Crowley knocked once, and pushed Dean inside the dark wooden doors, inlaid with marble and gems. Dean contemplated stealing the door, or at least the handle which was solid gold just to piss off the king but decided against it.

The king was sleeping but stirred in his bed. So did one of his loyal soldiers who was leaning against the wall, one that Dean knew the face of very well. Hannah.

Great.

Hannah's eyes widened momentarily before he pulled his sword and the king followed suit.

“This piece of vermin was skulking around in the castle, your Highness. Permission to take his life right now?” Crowley pushed Dean against a wall. “Where's your Michael Sword now, you scoundrel?”

Dean barely focused on Crowley; his eyes were on the Royal Highness, Castiel Angelus,  Oakspear's pride and joy, the most exalted One. He probably had more names that were too ridiculous to remember. Dean would have to ask him.

The king of course drew his sword.

Hannah looked at the king and followed suit, standing next to him.

Castiel's eyes were narrowed, shining brightly with anger. He pointed the sword under Dean's chin, forcing his eyes up.

Dean couldn't help it, he licked his lips and smiled lasciviously. “A game is it?” He winked once and saw Hannah blink in confusion.

Slowly, Dean kneeled in front of Castiel, lowering his hands to his sides. He wanted to bend his neck too, but sadly the sharp tip on his throat – that had followed him down as his knees sank to the floor – prevented such wishes. He could still blink with his left eye but the blood caused it to burn. It was just a mild discomfort though. A zit on his ass was worse.

Crowley's raspy voice was laced with confusion. “Your Highness?”

Castiel shook his head. “Stand down, Crowley. We need to gather information. If this is indeed Dean Winchester – “

“I told you that picture of me sucked, Crowle – “

Crowley kicked him in the stomach with a heavy foot.

Dean bent down slightly, air leaving his lungs. The sword grazed his throat but it was just a caress, a pleasurable, painful zing.

“Crowley, I told you to stand down!”

Coughing, Dean gazed up to look at Castiel. Wasn't this a sight? His blood stirred again but Dean fixed his gaze on those eyes. A witch must have truly cursed Castiel as a child. There was no other way for any human to gain that color.

Dean ignored the hideous nightgown Castiel was wearing. It was a silky affair with golden wings embroidered all over. Why would one want to cover one's body with that monstrosity when you could sleep in the nude? He shook his head in dismay.

“What are you doing here...thief!”

Dean licked his lips. “Love when you talk dirty to me... your Highness.” He glanced over at Crowley who was fuming; his hand still gripped the hilt tightly. “Just taking a stroll. Do you mind?” He raised his hand and touched the blade, arching a brow.

Slowly Castiel lowered his sword.

“Your Highness, I wouldn't do that if I were you. He's the kingdom's most wanted – “

Dean ducked down and rolled away from the sword. He threw himself at Crowley's feet and pulled them toward himself, and as Crowley fell, he planted a fist straight in his smug face. “This is a different kiss than you'd like from me but I'm sure you won't mind.” The crunch as Crowley's nose broke and blood squirted was very satisfying. He rapidly punched him three more times, using all his force.

Blood splattered on his face, but Dean had already been bloodied. Some more didn't really make much more difference.

Crowley raised his head feebly before dropping it to the floor, passing out.

Dean cracked his knuckles. “That was for the fucking awful drawings of me.” He looked at Castiel, as he wiped the blood away from his face. “No wonder your soldiers never catch me.”

“Dean, have you lost your cursed mind? How am I going to explain this to Crowley when he wakes up?” Castiel glanced at his Master Kingsguard. “If he wakes up.”

“He'll wake.” Dean shook his head. “You need to train your guards better, Cas. What if some crazed killer is out to catch you?” He almost spat in disgust. “It'll be child's play.”

“It's Castiel.”

Dean nodded, a smile on his face. “Of course.” He put a fist to his chest and bowed. “Your Big Headedness. I know this isn't your favored version of crossing swords. I apologize.”

Hannah's eyes bulged at the insult and he took a step forward but Castiel waved at him to stop.

Anger made Castiel's eyes glow. He grabbed Dean and hauled him up. “If they catch you, they'll kill you!”

Dean licked some of the blood from his fingers. “Are you gonna turn me in?” The ensuing fight had upset his stomach, and Dean let out a burp.

“Are you intoxicated?!”

Dean scoffed. “I've had three or so ale. Hardly intoxicated, Cas. But I'm here on a mission.” He glanced over at Hannah, who was still aiming his sword at Dean, although he looked like he was thinking of dropping it.

“What kind of mission could you be on?” Castiel wondered out loud.

“The mission to preserve my reputation.” He kept silent about the second part of his mission.

Castiel stepped away from Crowley and put away his sword before he went over to a dresser. “I think that's a lost cause, you preserving your reputation.” He draped a blue silk robe, embroidered with fish of all things over his nightgown, and tied it off with a sash.

Dean got up on two feet and walked up to Castiel. He noted that Hannah followed his every move. “Relax, Hannah.”

“Your Highness... should I alert someone?”

Castiel shook his head. “It's fine. Just proceed with protocol as usual, Hannah.”

Dean smirked. “You heard him, handsome. Proceed as usual.”

Hannah frowned but dropped his sword and finally sheathed it. He relaxed his posture but Dean could still feel his eyes on him.

He turned and walked over to Hannah. “You've done good, kid.” He patted Hannah on the back.

“I'm hardly a kid – “

“Enough!” Castiel's voice cut through the air. “It's not even – Dean. Why are you here, in the middle of the night – ?”

Dean lowered his voice. “Is that any more different than the other times I've been here? You never complained then. On the contrary, you wanted more and more and – “

Hannah cleared his throat.

Dean rolled his eyes. “For being the lookout, you don't get to play a prude now, Hannah.”

“Dean.”

Dean could hear Castiel's patience was wearing thin. He was always so... demanding. Dean liked it. “You always wanted adventure right? Bored of court politics? A way to escape from Crowley and Naomi? Well, I'm giving it to you.”

“What are you talking about?”

Hannah looked as puzzled.

Dean admired loyalty to a point. Hannah was loyal, clever, and sure, he followed orders but he had been known to question some of Cas' decisions now and then. The confidence to defy the king came not from pride or avarice but from years of friendship and camaraderie, love even. And Hannah's face was not ugly, so that was another reason for admiration.  

“Cas, Hannah is pretty, I'll give you that. But wouldn't you say a scar... would make his already pretty face more appealing?” The corners of his mouth turned into a smirk.

Dean jumped on Hannah, and hit him square in the face. Hannah hit the floor like a drunkard on midsummer's Eve.

Castiel whirled around, his robe fanning out behind him dramatically.

“Dean, what are you doing?”

Dean pulled his knife and yanked Castiel close to him, the sharp edge of the knife pointing at that vital blood vessel near the throat. “We need to take a stroll, you and me, Cas.”

Betrayal flashed over Castiel's face and he set his mouth into a grim line. “I thought we had something. That we were something.”

An ache bloomed in Dean's chest but he shoved it down. “We do, Cas, we do. All those things I said to you... they're still true. I'm just borrowing you for a while.”

“Against my will!” Castiel hissed. “That's not borrowing. That's kidnapping!”

Dean pulled Castiel's body to his and if circumstances were different it could have been exciting. “I'll give you back. We'll come back.” He waited until the guards had made their next round passing the royal chambers before urging Castiel along. “Let's go.”

The corridor was now empty and Dean pushed at Castiel, urging him to hurry. “I don't know what's with the face and narrowed eyes.  I thought you hated the pompous royal court and all the trivial matters you have to attend. Didn't you talk about adventures and going out to see the world?”

“Dean, if any of my guards find you, you'll be executed on the spot. I'd be powerless to stop you.”

“Cas, it's almost like we're more than lovers. I'm flattered.”

“Drop the charade, Dean. I've known you for a long time. I care about you. Gods, I love you. I know you haven't told me you love me back but all those evenings and nights we've spent together... I know they must have meant something to you.  Don't lie to me. Not more than you have tonight.”

Dean swallowed. Damn, Cas and his honeyed tongue. He almost relented when he remembered the very reason he was doing this. He hardened his voice. “You're a good lay. That is all.”

Castiel's face turned blank and he didn't say anything else.

The rest of the walk to the storage with the chamber pots was uneventful. Dean felt the heavy silence build with each step until it was crushing him. “Bend down so you don't hit your head, Cas.”

“We wouldn't want that now, would we? What would you do if I fought you?”

Dean sighed. “You are royalty, and while I don't doubt your strength, Cas, the Michael Sword has no reason to hold back if you start trouble. The rumors about me are all true.” He shrugged. “Well, most of them anyway, some are pure fabrication, but do you really wanna take that chance?”

“If you have troubles with a gang of thugs or ruffians, I can help. My coffins are endless.”

Dean smiled in the darkness as they walked to the edge of the castle walls. Just a few more steps and then freedom awaited. For one of them. “It's not about gold, Cas.”

“You almost sound offended.”

“I don't fuck you for money, Cas.”

Castiel scoffed. “I didn't suggest that either. But if you – if there's some debt to be paid, I could do that. I could help you.”

“We are just going to be gone a while and then I'll bring you back. I don't need your help.”

The darkness finally covered the landscape and while it would be to their advantage, Crowley and Hannah could wake at any moment. Dean pulled out his sword and hid the knife away.

Castiel sighed but didn't say anything; he just followed along as Dean guided him with a hand on his shoulder. They would soon come to a small clearing where he hid two horses and then they'd leave Oakspear.

After a few minutes of walking, Dean pulled Castiel to a stop. “Do you have to step on every fucking branch and twig from here to Lawreen?”

“I've been kidnapped. It's in my interest to be found and leave traces behind me.”

Dean smiled in the darkness. “You give Crowley and his gang of cretins too much credit. But good thinking.”

“But you'll still knock me out if I try to run.”

“Don't run, Cas. I swear, I will not hurt you and I will return you when we're done.”

Castiel was silent for a while, walking where Dean's sword led them. The silence lay heavy over them and Dean should've been grateful. He was borrowing the king of Oakspear after all and he wanted as little disturbance as possible. But the other silence was oppressive, the one that spoke of betrayal and hurt and it pressed heavily on him.

Usually, Dean wouldn't be bothered, but this was Cas.

He could see the shadowy outline of the horses. He'd tied them around a cluster of birch trees. The trees dotted the area, providing some shade on hot summer days, but they were no oaks.

The horses – one black, the other one a soft beige – whinnied when Dean approached them.

He stroked the black horse gently, reassuring her. “We'll be on our way soon, Tantrum. Venison will rest.”

Castiel finally spoke up, disbelief in his voice.“You named your horses Tantrum and Venison?”

Dean shrugged. “Tantrum was feisty when I got her and Venison... A poacher stole my venison so I stole his horse.”

Cas huffed in disbelief. “You don't have venison, because you don't own any forests, Dean.”

“I was in a forest. And might be that I was hunting for venison when this man came and claimed what was mine. Get up. And no sudden movements, she'll bite you.”

“So you were poaching yourself and got mad that another poacher stole “your venison”.

Dean pushed at Castiel's ass, urging him forward. His other hand gripped Tantrum's reins tightly. “Come on, stop with this molasses-slow pace. Crowley will be able to catch up.”

“I have no desire to break my neck, Dean.”

“Yeah, I have no desire for some damned butcher to hang me by the neck. See, our interests align.” Dean jumped up behind Castiel and grabbed Venison's reins. He'd tied Venison to Thunder and they were on their way.

The horses trotted along with a steady but brisk pace. Dean led them away from the main roads and into the leafy forests that grew some distance away from the castle.

He noticed that Castiel was shivering. He tried to hide it but Dean could feel the small trembles against his stomach and his arms as his body enveloped Castiel's. He realized that Castiel was still in his silk nightgown and robe. He reached back and unrolled a woolen cloak while guiding Tantrum with his knees.

Casually, he put the cloak around Castiel's shivering form.

“Thank you.”

“No bother. I was the one that dragged you out of bed. It's the least I can do.” Dean sighed quietly for himself. “Look, Cas. I'm... I'm sorry.”

“For borrowing me? Well, me too, Dean.”

Dean chuckled slightly. “Not that part.” He was sorry for other things and his mind turned to matters that were yet to come. He chastised himself. No use in thinking about tomorrow's sorrows when today was  bleak enough. “I didn't mean it, alright. You're not just a lay to me, Cas. You know that.”

“I thought I did. Does this mean that you'll explain what you're doing, Dean? You have promised my safe return, so I assume you're not out to kill me?”

Anger flashed through Dean for a brief second but then he remembered that Castiel had every right to be mad or think that his life was in danger. “I'm not going to kill you.”

Castiel seemed satisfied by that.

Dean guided the horses through the thick foliage and turned south. They were once again on a path, albeit a less traveled one.

“You're going by the roads again?”

It was a small comfort that Castiel seemed so calm, that his voice still held kindness. It made it easier for Dean to pretend he hadn't kidnapped him. “Not the main one, no. This one will lead to a farm village down south and then we're going to cross into Juna.”

“Juna? That's your plan? You're going to hide the king of Oakspear in the actual realm? Not cross the border but plant us straight into a large city? You do realize that Juna is the largest city in the kingdom, that their soldiers – “

“ – are the finest ever, their armor shines in the sun, and they shit gold. Yeah, I know. I also know that Juna provides a huge bulk of the grain supply to Oakspear, that the royal palace once stood there and that supposedly magic is in the soil there. That's what the War of Nothingness was about, whether magic was real or not.”

“You did listen.”

Dean scoffed. “Not my fault that your post-fucking talk was all history, economics, and things I'm sure even Osric would be impressed you have knowledge about. And Juna may be the largest city in the kingdom, but that's where we're going anyway.”

Tantrum whinnied and Dean patted her reassuringly. “It's gonna be a long night. I won't bore you with talk any longer. You'll be fine, Cas.”

Castiel fidgeted against Dean, so Dean wrapped his arm around Castiel's waist, keeping him still. Tantrum was well-trained and could be directed just by a slight press of the knees anyway.

“Don't you think me showing up in my very regal robe will mark me as, I don't know, royalty maybe?”

Dean nodded, despite Castiel not being able to see him. “I do. But we'll take care of that before we reach Juna. Relax, Cas.”

“Relax you say. You still haven't told me why you're doing this, Dean.”

Gritting his teeth, Dean sighed. “I know you're stubborn Cas, and you'll try, that's what honor compels you to do. But I won't talk. You know what you need to know.”

“I know nothing!”

“Exactly. Now keep your damn voice down.”

To his credit, Castiel did listen. Soon the only sounds to be heard were the night birds, evening frogs, and crickets puncturing the otherwise still night with their song. Tantrum and Venison trotted along on silent hooves and even Castiel stopped talking.

A heavy weight settled against Dean's chest and he realized that Castiel had fallen asleep. He adjusted him slightly, pulled the robe around him tighter, and continued riding.

Dean Winchester – notorious thief and Castiel Angelus – king of Oakspear rode on as the darkness kept them safe.

If you wanna leave comments or just say hi the story is here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24593170