#cannot flow backward au

[itti-bitti-yibbi]

I'm back on my bullshit again! Merenity does not always get along with Narinder...

Singles + transcript under the cut

[Merenity] Is that what you think this amounts to?

[Merenity] Can you even comprehend how much bigger this is? Than all of us?

(No visible dialogue)

[Ari (lamb)] oh shit ofuckoshitofuck

[Red C.] Oop they throwin hands

[Pale (white) C.] This hothead at it again

(The Pale Crown is the one at the bottom if that's not obvious)

Also have some bonus Leshycat cause I like draw him

[thewisaaaaad]

so I was writing more about my Narinders Locker Au and uh.

It got a little out of hand. so I'm splitting it into parts.

Here's the part about Lamb and crew :D

The ship the lamb sails upon was once Narinders own ship. A gigantic beast of a galleon, its hide is made entirely of cast iron. Given its weight, the ship should not float at all. and for the centuries that Narinder was imprisoned, it didn't. But with the power of the red crown, the lamb can will it to rise from the depths or return to it at will.

It is a gigantic galleon, armed with sixty cannons a side, with two cannons that point forward as well. It has 8 sails, and an extra mast to match.

It is poorly balanced on purpose. the front of the ship catches an air bubble within it, and the rear is weighted with extra iron, causing the ship to tip backwards beneath the waves. This allows the ship to rise with the nose pointed upwards at a diagonal, permitting it to pierce heretical ships from below, or to fall upon vessels that are caught beneath it.

The crew, blessed by The One Below, are able to breath seawater as easily as air, and thus the ships ambush abilities can be used to their fullest potential.

the ships name is Iron vale, but the crew (and Narinder) affectionately call it "rust bucket". The lamb is unamused. (they want their ship to be cool, dammit.)

The crew is fiercely devoted to the lamb. After all, they did save all of them from the Captains, and all of them hold personal grudges against the Captains too.

All of them are trained in combat, though only half of them really engage in any given conflict. most use whatever weapons they have on hand, although some specialize in certain weapons and have claimed custom versions from the traveling weponsmith.

The lamb themself is a foolhardy youth, empowered by the crown they seek vengeance, and Narinder has to remind them often that part of their deal was that they had to seek adventure for all the fallen who never got to see the world.

They wear the crown as a tricorn (obviously) and wield it as a cutlass (also obvious). they wear a pair of well worn and oft patched pair of pants, held up with a sash woven from their mothers wool, and the sash is embroidered with sheep and Lilly of the valley in red thread, but the embroidering is unfinished. It will never be finished.

Their fleece is a red pirate coat that leaves its sleeves flowing in the wind, tied around their neck with a golden cord and clasped with a small anchor.

The lambs wool is constantly sopping wet, and they will never dry for they are tied to the sea now. Their horns are short and dull, and their tail undocked. The wool on their face droops down over one eye, giving the appearance of an eye patch.

In their chest sits a gaping hole where their heart once sat. It was taken from them by narinder, for a gift such as the crown cannot come without sacrifice.

That heart is Narinders most treasured possession.

Their magic takes a unique form too. Instead of balls of fire and lost souls wrought with their hands as in the game, they wield blood red brine and frozen ice flung from a flintlock instead. When the lamb falls in battle, they melt into blood red briny water that slinks back into the ocean, to find the bones and rotting flesh of sunken sailors to create a new body.

After all, one cannot simply stab the sea, and expect to have killed it.

[jeonstellate]

flashpoint: forward

junhui’s post-9 pm overthinking led him to you, ten years into the future.

๑༄ wen junhui x gender neutral!reader

๑༄ time travel!au — little fluff(?), mostly neutral

๑༄ bulleted list format — 3K words

masterlist | flashpoint: backward

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

๑༄ wrote this almost a year ago && decided to wait until i made significant progress on the second part, but i kinda— anw. long story short, here’s the first part even tho the second one isn’t done yet *insert dancer emoji here*

๑༄ personally loved this, if you can’t tell by the word count lol, so i sincerely hope y’all do too <3

for this specific universe, the world lives in whichever time they wish

however, the ability to jump through time isn’t a common ability

nor it is a well-studied area of science

it isn’t necessarily a regulated movement(?), either — time travelers don’t carry passports or any documents that record their movement from one time to another

to top if off, no one knows exactly how one gets the ability to jump through time as well; it just appears randomly once the blessed individual comes of age

what people do know, however, is the fact that there is a set of rules every time traveler is strongly advised to abide by

first & foremost, every time traveler mustn’t mess with the flow of events — specifically those that concern an entire population

which means they can’t prevent any public figure from crossing onto the other side of veil — political or otherwise

they can’t introduce a current technology to the people of the past, either — especially since inventions have the power to drive social advancement

basically everything that can impact how history is told is forbidden

saving endangered animals through time travel is included in that btw

tragically

&& also bringing forward obsolete stuff to the present

[that means no bringing forward quality web-based flash games or the psp. sigh]

second, every time traveler cannot reveal to the people of time periods prior to time travel becoming "common" knowledge that they are, in fact, time travelers

that sounds like a trippy sentence to comprehend completely, so let’s paraphrase

time travelers can’t change when time traveling became something that people just know to exist

if they travel to some time in the BCE, they can’t mention anything abt time traveling to the ppl there — bc time travel isn’t heard of yet during that time period

same thing if they travel to any CE period when time travel is basically "non-existent" still

truth be told, no one can exactly pin point when time travel became a common knowledge

so it’s a little tricky

that’s why it’s advisable to keep quiet abt it when going to the past

unless it’s recent past, then that should be fine

but not so much when going forward in time

since yk, they fs already know that time travel exist if people of the present already know abt it

the third advice for time travelers is to not stay too long in the past or the future

the unofficial handbook for time travelers didn’t really specify how long is too long, so everyone interprets it differently

some think it means a few days max, while some think it’s a few weeks

some even think it means a few years

but anw

the point is, according to the handbook, if one stays too long in the time they don’t belong in, changes will occur in their present

which will domino effect

to not only their future, but potentially to everyone else’s lives as well

[write that down—]

in a way, that connects advice three to advice one

thankfully, you aren’t blessed to be a time traveler

sure, you don’t get to experience the perks that comes w time traveling

but at least you don’t have to remember all those rules

&& wtv unmentioned precautionary tales there are abt time traveling

unfortunately for wen junhui, though, he is a time traveler

which means he has to keep all those rules in mind whenever he enjoys the perks of time traveling

sigh

.

.

.

.

.

junhui doesn’t have a favorite era to travel to

he, quite honestly, just travels on a whim

remember that "end of the world" talk bc of the mayan calendar?

yea

junhui didn’t believe in it either

but, nevertheless, he still time traveled to the day after the supposed end date just to prove to himself that he was right not to believe it

&& that there was definitely still tomorrow after the so-called "end of the world" day

ngl that extremely brief stay in that particular date was for his post-9 pm self — the one that worries abt every little thing that has ever happened in his life & that he has ever heard of in passing

basically his post-9 pm self has some sort of heightened anxiety or smth, that’s why he never trusts anything he thinks of from 9 pm onwards

[i personally believe this btw. this belief has saved me multiple times. i highly recommend :D]

still, whenever his post-9 pm self gets too worked up worrying abt nothing, it’s difficult for him to sleep

so it’s best to quell anything that can be a source of anxiety asap

esp since he needs — wants — all the sleep he can get

junhui has also traveled into the year 3000

solely bc he heard his friend hansol play a song abt it

&& the lyrics mentioned smth abt ppl in that year living underwater

now, that lyric could’ve been entirely fictional, a result of merely observing the trend of global climate change

but, considering the world they all live in, it’s also plausible that at least one of the songwriters for that song is a time traveler

so, naturally, junhui wants to confirm it for himself

to his surprise (not really), they do live underwater by then

&& remember the flying cars ppl of the past collectively envisioned for the future?

they’re apparently floating vehicles instead, like submarines, which can give the impression that they’re flying

it’s actually pretty cool to see

almost like the future in meet the robinsons, but like . . . underwater

anw

junhui doesn’t just fact-checks the future or any future-related things, he also has a similar habit for the past

aside from making sure wtv he read abt in books are accurate, he also fancies seeing tourist spots in their young state — before the effect of time & tourists took a toll

just to name a few . . .

he went to see the great wall at its peak condition: complete & still intact

he had admired the taj mahal as a recently completed building

same goes for the eiffel tower & the entirety of intramuros

not to mention the not-yet-green statue of liberty

& disneyland, back when there were merely 20 attractions in the entire park

suffice to say, junhui enjoys his time traveling abilities to the fullest

despite not actually using it often

in fact, by this point in time, he hasn’t time traveled in a while: his last time jump being more than half a year ago

it was, if he remembers correctly, to visit the cats in ancient egypt

sure, he could’ve looked around for the pyramids too & the other wonders of ancient egypt, but he was literally just there for the cats

cause, yk, he just thought of them & how dissimilar they might be to modern-day cats

to no one’s surprise, there wasn’t any notable differences

so, yea

no other escapades followed after that trip

that is, until his post-9 pm self got better of him

wen junhui, like any other night prior, just wants to sleep

well, at least his body does

his mind, though . . . it seems like it has other plans

bc it just . . . wouldn’t . . . shut off

[i fcking hate it when that happens]

his brain, for wtv reason, just decided that it was the best time to think abt the future

not just any future, though: his future, specifically

sure, he has traveled to the future countless of times, but those trips were never to catch a glimpse of his own future life

partly bc he was never actually interested in knowing beforehand

but mostly bc he knew that the future isn’t exactly set in stone

sure, the near future might not change drastically when he decides not to eat his usual breakfast, but there’s no telling how much each choice dominos into the distant future

thus, it’s reasonable to assume that, just bc he sees it when he time travels, it doesn’t automatically mean that that’s how his future will play out exactly

really, a part of him just wants to stay cautious abt accidentally changing his future

‘cause he can totally see that happening:

after seeing how his life is in the future, he might potentially develop a conscious preference towards things that he thinks will build into the future he saw

not knowing that the decisions he made due to his hyperawareness actually altered how his future will eventually play out

wen junhui doesn’t want to experience that

like, at all

bc it’s def a recipe for disappointment & heartbreak

but, apparently, his brain begs to differ

bc it’s still trying to convince him that it wouldn’t hurt

to know how his life will going exactly 10 years from now

if anything, it might even provide some comfort . . . to know that, yk, he’ll be just fine 10 years from now

but at the same time,

what if he gets so obsessed w making sure he doesn’t change his future after he goes back to the present??

he would be so stressed for the next 10 years until his present finally catches up to the moment he time traveled to

oh heavens

junhui of the present just — quite literally — want to fcking sleep

so he tossed

and turned

blanket off

blanket on

one foot out

foot back in bc he remembered abt the monsters that might try to pull him by his leg

lie down on his stomach

lie down on his back

put one arm under his pillow

and—

nothing

absolutely nothing

he’s still wide awake

tragically

once he sees a semblance of sun rays through the window curtain, he defeatedly decided to compromise

and finally time traveled 10 years forward

truthfully, time traveling for wen junhui is v easy

at least after he mastered it

which took a bit ngl

he just has to think of time & place he wants to travel to, mean them, close his eyes, & let the magic do its thing

normally, he would open his eyes as soon as he feels like it was safe to do so

just to confirm that he did end up in the time & place he intended

but for this one specifically, he didn’t even want to bother confirming that he arrived at his destination

instead, he settled for accepting the different feeling of the sheets under him as such

contrast to how uncomfortable & hot his own bedsheets and blanket felt to him tonight,

the ones currently touching his skin felt comfortable & cool

aka literally the perfect recipe for sleep

junhui personally has been begging his body to sleep for hours now at this point

so after processing the sweet relief of comfortability, he basically knocked out cold almost instantly

[he was getting so frustrated—]

[i’m so happy for him *wipes tear*]

now, don’t get him wrong

he’s normally cautious whenever he time travels, esp if it’s within his lifetime

given that it’s a "special" circumstance of sorts

that shall be explained later . . . after he wakes up

he’s just really tired, okay?

let him be

let him discover how much he fcked up once he wakes up

from a deep sleep he so deserved

.

.

.

once junhui finally wakes up from his slumber, it took him a moment to remember what he did before he slept

still unaware of his night shenanigans & barely awake, he makes a beeline to the bathroom

except the path that normally takes him to the bathroom didn’t actually take him there

but rather to a closet that he doesn’t even recognize

undeterred, he turns & tries the second doorknob he grasps

thankfully, that door opens to reveal what he’s looking for: a bathroom

the harsh lighting essentially forces him to fully open his eyes

and he finally notices that there are two toothbrushes by the sink

he could’ve sworn he only has one toothbrush out of the box

so he absolutely has no idea which one he should use

much less why there are suddenly two in the first place

junhui decides to not think too much of it

and just takes the safest option: only using a mouthwash & moving onto the rest of his morning routine

he’s not abt to take a risk abt that yk

who knows what he uses the other toothbrush for that he just can’t remember atm

now refreshed & completely awake, he finally finally remembers what he did last night before he drifted off to sleep

he has time traveled 10 years forward

which means he’s currently in his body 10 years into the future

alright, guess this is the right second for a quick rundown of how time traveling works in this universe

if the time he wants to travel to is within his lifetime, his consciousness will enter his body during that time

which means he’s inside the time flow & whatever he does may impact the succeeding events

which also means he has to be extremely mindful

if the time he wants to travel to is outside his lifetime, may that be before or after, then he’s just . . . an entity with no actual form

like an invisible ghost

which means he’s outside the time flow & he’s free to say wtv & move whichever way he wants without bothering ppl

or even worrying abt accidentally altering the timeline

however, if he’s not skilled enough, he might accidentally manifest as a person that didn’t/doesn’t rlly exist during that particular time

which means that, once again, he’ll be inside the time flow when he shouldn’t be

actually, if he’s a seasoned enough traveler, anything is possible: he may still touch things without necessarily being inside the time flow, he may potentially alter the timeline without having a vessel, etc.

but anw

now, with all that knowledge in mind, wen junhui looks around with purpose

first he turns to the mirror to intently observe how he physically changed over the years

then, once satisfied, turns his attention to the bathroom itself: how he recognizes some of the brands but not exactly the packaging

and how painfully obvious it is that his future self shares the place with one other person

has inflation gotten so bad that he had to share his apartment w someone?

truthfully, he doesn’t rlly mind that

but it means his chances of getting caught are higher

esp if his flatmate happens to be home atm & he has no idea who they are

junhui takes it upon himself to explore his bedroom too

& look for clues abt who he might be living w

assuming that they are close enough, that is

it doesn’t take him that long to find what he’s seeking, thankfully

bc there are two framed decorations on his bedroom walls that basically answered all his current questions

one of which is an intimate wedding photograph of him and someone else

which means . . .

wen junhui of the future is fcking married

and his flatmate can only be his spouse

!!!!!!!!!!!!!

alright

now

it’d be a complete lie to say that wen junhui of the past anticipated that

bc he totally didn’t

and honestly, who can blame him?

dude doesn’t even have a significant other in his present

and, judging who he ends up marrying,

he hasn’t even met the person he ends up w yet

nor has he heard of them

bc he has yet to hear the name that he can only assume is theirs next to his on the other framed decoration

which has his name & [first name] in large print — surrounded by small handwritten messages

all of a sudden, junhui has more questions than what he started w prior to discovering the identity of his flatmate

how did they meet?

how long were they a couple before they wed?

how long have they been married at this point?

when did they marry?

when did they me—

and as if on cue, a soft knock resonated from the door,

instantly freezing junhui in place

followed by a: "jun, are you awake yet?"

thinking on his feet, junhui quickly busied himself w making the bed

so when the person who knocked inevitably opens the door, he can use it as an excuse

"oh, good. you’re up."

junhui immediately thought the picture has done you no justice as soon as you appeared by the doorway

he swears he even stops breathing for a sec after seeing you

"yea . . . i was just fixing the bed . . ."

he has no idea how he’s able to act like he didn’t just fall in love at first sight

but perhaps his fear of giving himself away is the one to thank

hopefully, his acting was convincing enough to foul you

not that he wants to lie to you or anything

he’s just being cautious bc he doesn’t know if his future self has let you onto his secret

and he certainly don’t wanna be the one responsible for that talk

"once you’re done, come join me for breakfast, yea?"

phew

it seems like you’re none the wiser

that’s good for him

now, all he has to do is to play along & not blow his cover

sounds easy enough

right?

right?

"ofc. lemme just grab my phone & we can head out tgt"

.

.

.

wrong!

bc, for one, he has no idea who you are

besides being his spouse, and your name,

and perhaps also how you physically look like,

junhui doesn’t know you

and what kind of husband doesn’t know anything abt his spouse???

not a good one, for starters

sigh

all of a sudden, he was so glad he bothered to take acting classes when he was younger

to be fair, he did take them to help him blend in whenever he wants to travel w a body rather than as a ghost

which is exactly what this situation is

except this one’s a bit different . . . in a way

‘cause now he gets to use it to keep his marriage intact

and for the sake of his future, he needs to not mess it up

no pressure at all ammirite

[yzeltia]

Weird West AU -Y'zel-

Title: El Muerto Enamorado Featuring: Desertwalkers AU by @scrollsfromarebornrealm Characters: Rhahn Chai (U'rahn Nuhn), Zellita (Y'zel Tia) , Claudien Notes: CW Blood

It just wasn’t his day. First he’d come into town expecting to burn a few pel on a loose woman and enjoy a drink as he scouted Stonewood only to have the proprietress throw him out on his ass. Then, after carefully plotting his revenge, some kids swooped in and swiped the rest of his money and weapons before shredding his pants to keep him from easily returning back to the town without causing a fuss before knocking him out briefly. Now, he was sawing away with the dull blade left for him to free his bindings as he struggled against a smoothed down cactus as a pair of red eyes watched him in the dark.

“G-Get away! I’m warnin’ you,” he called out hoarsely into the dark as the eyes grew larger, perhaps closer without so much as a blink.

He cut faster, trying to get through the bindings before hissing as he felt the blade slip and jab into his wrists. Blood barely started to flow down into his palm before he found himself leaped upon by the beast. He let out a scream as he struggled, finding something vaguely human shaped upon him and pushing his head to the side, its breath on his neck as its hand ran down toward his injured wrists. He closed his eyes, wincing as he felt saliva drip onto his exposed neck as his heart raced before a soft whistle sounded out. The beast’s fangs lightly grazed his vein before it pulled back, hungrily licking at its hand before backing away into the dark, retreating toward a Hhestaro shaped shadow in the distance. With a pant of relief, the villain hit his head back against the cactus then passed out from exhaustion.

~ 

Zellita was carefully stepping back, walking backward as he unbuttoned his shirt, eyes not wavering from Claudien’s as the man followed him back into town toward the library. He’d only lost track of him for a moment, and it was almost enough for the tranced man to do something he knew he’d regret. Once to the back door, he let them inside then backed into the nearest shelf and let his shirt fall to the floor then titled his neck, exposing the little round scars about his neck in the candle light.

Claudien didn’t hesitate, rushing forward and sinking his fangs into the offered neck, swallowing down a mouthful of the other’s offered blood as he trailed his stained hand down the other’s back. Zellita whined and moaned under him, shuddering as he let his pale hand rake up into his blond hair as he had his meal. He struggled to contain himself, devouring the other’s life force until he felt the other start to falter and rest in his arms. “Zel? Say something,” he panted, wiping blood from his chin.

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine,” Zellita cooed before leaning into the other’s arms, writhing as he felt blood run down his chest.

“I can’t keep letting you do this for me. Chasing me into the night and letting me have my fill of you after. What if the hunger gets too much? I was out there on that man ready to end his life…what if I cannot make the distinction,” Claudien lamented, backing up against a wall to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I curse the day I decided to pursue the mysteries that surround this town. I should have done something sensible and studied the law like my father wanted.”

Zellita wobbled then pulled out a bandage before taping it over his fresh bite. Turning to Claudien, he frowned then moved to stumble against his chest. He frowned, looking up into the other’s eyes before stroking his bangs from his face. “We found one another, ruined in one way or another. You stop yourself every time…and you’ll find a way to break this curse. This works. We work,” he assured him before lifting up to steal a kiss, wincing as he tasted the iron on his lover’s lips.

Cludien smiled weakly, cupping Zellita’s cheek in his clean palm, letting the other nuzzle into it and give it the smallest of kisses. He felt something stir inside him, the phantom fluttering of his now still heart. “This won't be forever. This curse…I'll find a way to-”

Claudien stopped, looking toward the front of the library with Zellita as both caught the sound of footsteps carefully climbing the steps of the porch. Zellita parted from Claudien, letting the other retreat into the shadows as he picked up his shirt and quickly buttoned it. The front bell rang as the door opened and Rrhan’s voice called out, “Hello? Zel?”

Zellita came out to the post desk, clutching the front of his shirt as he watched Rrhan approach wearily.

“It's after hours. Do you need something Mr. Chai?”

Rrhan frowned, putting a heavy pelpurse on the counter. “C’mon…call me Rrhan.”

Zellita looked at the bag then back over his shoulder to the depths of the library, Claudien's red eyes on him. “It's late, Rrhan. What can I do for you?”

“I brought you some pel. For the library and stuff,” Rrhan answered, pushing the bag forward.

“Thank you, but the library does well by your mother's charities. Take your earnings to the church. I'm sure Brother Themis will appreciate it far more.”

Rrhan furrowed his brow. “I was told I can't just keep givin’ all my money over to them. And Nolohh would've-”

Zellita bristled and snapped his attention to Rrhan, taking the pel and chucking it back at him. “I don't need your charity. Nolohh is dead. We are nothing to each other.”

“We're family!” Rrhan said, stepping forward, jabbing his finger roughly onto the counter. “You can be as stubborn as you want but that's what we are. Nolohh loved you and he was all I knew of my tribe and family.  So I'm gonna love you too. Y'know, like a brother or cousin! People have been talkin’. You're pale…er, paler. And you've been seen sleeping and looking tired. You've always got a bandage peeking out of your clothing. You're either sick or that Claudien fellow is doin’ somethin’ to you and if he is I'll -”

“He's not,” Zellita answered quickly.

Rrhan grunted then shook his head. “Take the pel and go see the doctor or somethin’! Everyone can see there's something off about you.”

Rrhan shoved the pel back toward Zellita, eyes narrowed in equal stubbornness. The two stared at one another for a moment before Zellita relented and sighed as he pulled the purse toward him. At the very least he could use the money toward paying parcel fees for deliveries for a time. “I am fine. I've always been this pale,” he lied, “... Thank you.”

Rrhan beamed, mood greatly improving as he got his way. Tilting his hat, he looked around. “Um. With that said…,” he started before letting out a whistle.

Zellita raised his brow, watching Rrahn look around expectantly. “What are you doing?”

“Calling for the big guy!”

Zellita shook his head. “Rrhan. It's late and I don't know what you're talking about. Go home.”

“Aw. C’mon, I wanna rub his belly!”

Zellita squinted at Rrhan, mouth slightly agape with confusion as he searched the beaming Hhestaro’s face. Before he could inquire further, a blond wolf padded out from the back and sat in front of Rrhan. The creature turned his head towards Zellita, red eyes lacking amusement as he gave his tail a loud thump on the floor as Rrhan dropped on a knee to pet him.

“There he is! What a good boy! You've been watching over Zellita? Keepin’ the bad guys out of the library?” Rrhan asked, voice pitched high.

The beast responded with a little woof, grunting a bit as Rrhan hugged onto him.

Zellita looked on quietly, watching his transformed lover be showered with affection. “Rrhan. Don't get him wound up. I was about to turn in.”

“Aw. Alright,” Rrhan said before cupping Claudien’s cheeks and giving him a peck on the nose. “You be a good boy uh…erm…” 

Rrhan blinked, looking up at Zellita who in turn looked to Claudien. “The Professor,” Zellita answered without giving it too much thought.

Claudien let out a huff as Rrhan give him another squeeze. “Ah. Alright Professor. Take good care of Zellita for me…and if that Claudien gives him any trouble you give him a good bite!”

Claudien let out another, deeper, “Woof.” That seemed to satisfy Rrahn enough to let him go.

Rrhan moving to the door gave Zellita a small wave before pausing in the door, seeming to grip the frame until his knuckles turned white. “I'm…not as dumb as I seem. That bandage on your neck is fresh as is the blood. If I find proof that it's Claudien… they won't find the pieces of him,” Rrhan said gravely before slipping out into the night.

Zellita exhaled sharply as Claudien padded into the back, bones audibly cracking as he shifted upright into his nude human form. His fist hit a wall as he slipped forward into it. “If he knows, so does the rest of the town,” he growled.

“No one here gives me that much thought. As for whatever made you the way you are,” Zellita started before wrapping his arms around Claudien, gently rubbing his hands up toward his chest, one centering over where his heart was, “You’ll find your answers. You’ve devoted yourself to the study of the unexplained. What is one more puzzle?”

Claduien put his hand over Zellita’s, pressing it firmly against his chest before turning to embrace the other tightly in his arms, nose dipping into the Hhestaro's ear. “I do not deserve you.”

Zellita flushed, pressing forward into the man’s naked body, as he tilted his head back to receive a kiss from him. They lingered in the moment, Claudien taking a moment to relish the other’s lips alone before pulling away to retrieve his clothes from the floor. “Thank you, for tonight. I shall return to my room.”

A moment of silence passed between them before Zellita sighed and moved to stop picking the man’s smalls off from the floor then turned to walk backward on his way to his stairway that led to his home above the library. “Let’s cut the pretense for the evening. Come upstairs and stay with me tonight. You’ll be glad of the reprieve.”

Claudien watched as Zellita turned then walked slowly up the stairs as he held the rest of his clothing in front of his modesty. He stood in silence for a moment before following along. “Why is that?” he called up the stairs.

“Ericthonius said your father is coming to town.”

[expirydateofficial]

Expiry Date (Chikn Nuggit Infection AU/End of the World AU Fanfic)

POV : Slushi

Read Chapter 1 here

Read Previous Chapter here

Chapter 4 - Rescue - Part 1/2

Read Part 2 here

[Image ID : It fell.

Dark splattered over the shadows.

The zombie fell and it's eyes met mine.

Deja vu.

"Guys." I began to speak through the foul. "Stay far behind me." I stepped backwards.

"What are you going to do?" Milkshek asked.

The zombie inched towards the light, I squirmed my earbuds in.

"I guess.. it's something I haven't really done before." I replied.

My finger caressed the trigger with sweat.

"I'm sorry." I muttered silently to absolve my guilt.

It did not work.

My ears screamed in pain. It felt like they were exploding.

I remember falling. Blurry. Searing white hot like a brain freeze dialed up to max and beyond and beyond. I cannot think i cannot think empty my mind is completely blank with pain.

I saw it fall, convulsing and bubbling. Road gravel pelted and glued to my fur and clothes. I stared at Milkshek and Old Pea, they are moving their mouths. A single consistent high pitch tone silenced their words, silenced my thoughts.

It's ring began to fade and the sound of flowing wind cleared in.

I realised I was laughing.

"Dude, was that how shooting a gun feels?" My excuse.

I stared at Milkshek and Old Pea, guilt washed over me.

I stuttered. "I'm sorry, I-"

Was this who I am all this time? So excited so bent on killing on destroying someone's lives and memories and-

I was crying. The tears dropped into my mouth. The salt tasted so sweet and tender.

I turned, my paws still pressed against on the sharp road. Bundles of skin overlap and tangle at the doorway. Lifeless.

Milkshek turned to me and forced a smile. "It's ok. You did what you have to do." Milkshek paused and stared. "I.. understand.." Old Pea's hands appeared from behind her and embraced. "Thanks, babe. We have to rescue whoever's trapped in there."

"Yeah! You're right, Milkshek! C'mon, let's go-" I paused. "Right, the front door is obviously not safe anymore so our only option is through there." I pointed at a side window.

"But the glass, Slushi." She turned worried.

I forced a smile in return. "It's alright, we break the glass, and then we sweep it away from out here."

"There is another way." Old Pea inserted.

We turned at him.

His tone grew certain. "Me. I can shrink and get in through the window, no sweeping glass required as I'll be on the walls."

"No, babe. I will not risk losing you, not again." Milkshek was firm in her reply.

"You won't, I promise." Old Pea was firm as well.

Milkshek let go.

"Alright, babe. Please be careful, alright? Please."

"I will." Old Pea was sure.

The window was smashed open. I felt my muscles petrify in response.

There was a pop sound, and almost like instant, Old Pea was around the size of one of my beans.

Milkshek brought him in. Her palms sweating and vibrating. He went back to size, it was safe where he was at. Then he went out of view to search.

I could hear my bff's breaths, borderlining on hyperventilating. She turned to me.

"He'll be ok. I know it." I answered.

A window opened. Old Pea opened it from the other side.

Milkshek calmed down, and so did I.

The kitchen was pitch black, no lights there too.

We turned on our flashlights. It looked prestine, untouched as if frozen in some slice of the Universe that fell out of the confines of time.

I guess in hindsight it was little dumb of me to do but..

"IS THERE ANYONE THERE?" I yelled out.

Milkshek and Old Pea was shook.

"Sorry." I let out a smile for some fishing reason.

...

"Um, hi?"

A reply.

It came from a door. The handle refused to budge.

"Oh, hi!" I responded.

"Are those thangs still out there?" The voice grew concerned.

"Oh, um.." I fidgeted. "I.. killed it."

The door stared at me, devoid of emotions.

"I.. Has any of you been infected?" The other side asked.

...

I felt the million cuts surrounding my body serenading in the still air.

What if I am infected?

What if it has already been too late. That my fate has been already sealed without my knowledge.

I felt the spiral of fear.

What if I am already infecte-

"I saw it myself." Milkshek replied.

I woke up.

"I saw it happen." Milkshek stared back, her eyes in her memories. "It was almost instant." Her paws and voice trembled. Old Pea noticed and rubbed them gently.

Guilt returned.

Boxes moved beyond the door. I heard scrapping.

The door went ajar.

A pale lizard glistened against our lights. They were stuffed in an oversized sweater, dark gray. Two asymetrical rectangles bordered around their eyes which shone like, like mango sorbet. A large tail hid in the dark, its silvery tone reflected stray rays. It felt like the picture in the bedroom became animate.

They looked at us. "That sucked. I'm sorry."

"No, it's ok." Milkshek answered.

I realised, "I forgot to introduce, I'm Slushi."

"I'm Shugarcube. Nonbinary." They pulled the door open. Boxes tumbled onto the ground.

"I'm Milkshake and this is my babe!" Milkshek turned to Old Pea and picked him up. Old Pea smiled. "Hi, I'm Old Pea."

They made a soft laugh. "You have a camp somewhere?"

"Oh um, not really." I admitted. "But we really need to get to my house." My mind turned to Sody and the others. "We're still looking.. for our friends."

"But Slushi, your house is really far." Milkshek commented. "We need to go back and get the car."

"It's ok, I have a car." Shugarcube interjected. They took out the keys. "It's parked in the garage."

Shugar turned their gaze at the adjacent door and opened it. Staircase down.

End ID]

Read Part 2 here

Also, special thanks to ProjectENDO on Twitter for giving permission to use their Chikn Nuggit oc, Shugarcube!!! Shugarcube's first appeared in Card Reader and is a background character in the og show but nowww... NOT ANYMOREE!!!!

[Image ID : Left picture is a retweet by ProjectENDO of Card Troubles, an episode of Chikn Nuggit, which says "Big Thank You to KyraKupetsky for asking me to cameo in today's Chikn Nuggit episode, enormously happy with how she translated my design roughs

I'm a nonbinary leopard gecko named Shugarcube"

The right picture is my conversation with ProjectENDO in direct messages, where I asked "helooo, im writing a Chikn Nuggit Infection AU/End of the World AU tragedy fanfic on AO3, tumblr and hereeee and i kinda want to have ur Chikn Nuggit oc Shugarcube in it as a survivor, if u dont want that or dont reply, i wont add them in because its ur oc and stuff ya but let me know if u want me to add them in, if u will then they will be added in chapter 4"

They replied "Awesooome lmao go for it"

End ID]

[prouvaireafterdark]

do you have any tips for new fanfic writers. the iwtv bug has gripped me and iim planning to dip my toes in but ive no idea no how to start. thanks and love your work xxx

Ahh, thank you! :)

And, well, I don't really think there's like perfect or universal advice on how to write because everyone likes different things and has a different process that works for them, but I'll do my best to list some things that help/have helped me!

Know your source material. Whether you're writing a canon compliant fic or something wildly AU, rewatching the show can help you get the character voices down and might make you feel less nervous about figuring out how you want your dialogue to sound or how the characters would behave in the situation you're putting them in.

Make yourself some tea. Idk what it is about a warm, caffeinated drink, but when I'm sitting at my desk with one it really helps me stay focused.

Start small if you're worried about finishing something big. There's no rule that says in order to be a fic writer you have to write 100k word masterpieces. In fact, my attention span is so fucked I usually don't write anything longer than 5k word one shots and I'm perfectly content with that. If all you want to do is try to get your feet wet with a 500 word ficlet to see how it goes, do it! Short fics are fun to read and much less pressure to finish.

Make an outline. No need to go crazy with it, but I usually sketch out the rough plan I've got with a few bullet points just to organize my thoughts and make sure I don't forget something.

Don't be afraid to write scenes out of order. There's also no rule that you have to begin at the beginning. I usually end up jumping around and making the parts I've written meet in the middle. If you vaguely know how you want your fic to start, but have a really concrete idea of how you want a specific part to go, just start there and work your way backward/forward.

If you get stuck, write the gist of what happens next in brackets and then move on to the next part. This goes with #5. I cannot even tell you how often I end up doing this and it helps maintain my writing flow so much bc instead of sitting there like "fuck, how do I wanna say this?" I can just be like "well, that's future Lynne's problem" and keep going with what I do have the words to write lol. You can also like just write a skeleton of dialogue and then go back and fill in the descriptions/their internal thoughts and reactions later if you don't know how you want to go about it yet, I do that a lot too.

Write what you want to read. Everyone likes different things and it's not really helpful to get caught up in trying to find an idea you think other people will like. Like I bet there are people who opened my fics, went "nope," and then backed out, but the thing is, I didn't write those fics for them, I wrote them for myself and whoever else ends up enjoying them. It also sucks trying to write something that doesn't inspire you, so if an idea isn't working for you, just... move on to something that does. You can always come back to it later (she says, avoiding eye contact with the WIPs in her folder).

Write. Even if you don't end up posting it, just giving it a go and seeing what happens is the only real way to start. You can always worry about editing later (either by yourself or with the help of a beta reader) or even scrap the whole thing and start over if you're not happy with it. I literally have docs that are basically just graveyards of whole paragraphs I deleted from WIPs but wanted to save just in case. The main thing to remember is that you're never gonna finish your story if you don't actually sit down and write it, so try to take the pressure off of yourself to make it perfect and just see what you come up with.

[babygurltash]

WIP Whenever

Thanks so much for the tag @sillyliterature, and for sharing your awesome snippet!!

Here's another piece of 'Til The Stars Evaporate, my time travel AU Shrios longfic that I'm still working on~! This bit takes place after Aria Shepard knocks herself unconscious going too hard in the fight against Saren in a desperate attempt to avoid losing anyone on Virmire.

Tagging: @megatraven @jotarowan @vespersposts @thrandilf @nowandthane @grandmaswormsoup and anyone else who feels like it!

Thane sits beside her when she wakes.

"Siha," he greets softly. She smiles up at him.

"Thane. What happened?" Her voice comes out a little rough, but he doesn't seem to mind. He reaches out a hand and combs his fingers through her hair.

"You overloaded your biotic implants," he says. "If your pilot had been five minutes slower in picking you up, the damage to your nervous system would have been permanent."

“I owe him a drink,” she says. Thane’s expression takes on a more serious edge.

“Your mission was a success. Would you have been able to say the same if your gamble had failed?”

Aria sighs. “Probably not.”

For a long moment, he says nothing, merely moving his fingertips to her face and caressing her gently. She keeps her eyes open despite how heavy their lids feel. Something in her warns that falling asleep now will break this moment; her mind is still too hazy to sort through the details of the warning, so she heeds it on instinct alone.

“I cannot speak for your companions,” Thane finally says, “but I’m confident that they want to support you. They are capable individuals who joined your cause for a reason.”

“I know. I just can’t let them throw their lives away,” Aria tells him. She takes a shaky breath. “I’ve got this impossible chance to make things better than they were before - if I don’t use it to save everyone, then I…”

He leans over, resting his forehead against hers. Aria places a hand at the nape of his neck. Once again, he says nothing, giving her the space she needs to sort through her thoughts.

“This whole thing has to mean something. I can make it mean something by changing things, by making it so people like you never-”

The words catch in her throat as reality comes crashing down on her. Thane. He can’t be here - this has to be happening inside her mind. In a slow, deliberate motion, Thane leans backwards so they can make eye contact, and he smiles sadly at her.

“You have already done more for me than you know,” he says.

“But it’s not enough. If I can’t change things - if I can’t save you - then all of this was for nothing.“ The words come out quieter than she intends for them to, though she’s glad she can keep her voice steady at the very least. “I’m… I’m afraid that my best won’t cut it.”

Thane hums in thought, closing his eyes briefly. When he reopens them, his pupils have dilated and the green glimmer of his irises is almost invisible; he’s reliving a memory.

“The air is stagnant and heavy with the scent of blood. Before me stands the holographic image of the Illusive Man, his back to me. He demands that she save the base. She narrows her eyes, furious - ‘I won’t let fear compromise who I am’.” His eyes refocus on her and his speech returns to its usual calm flow, instead of the staccato rhythm it takes on when he recounts experiences like this.

“You are enough exactly as you are,” he says. Aria finds herself nodding.

“I… needed to hear that.” Thane runs the back of his hand along her cheek, and his touch feels like coming home at last. Aria’s eyelids droop.

“Rest now, siha.” He kisses the bridge of her nose. “Rest, and recover. I will be by your side.”

“Please don’t go,” she says in a small voice, even as sleep starts to pull her under. His hand finds hers.

“I am always with you,” he whispers back.

[merlinistired]

The Crossing, Chapter 1 of Discontinued Fic

Rising back up as I do some wip cleaning. I've had this big Merlin AU planned for years, stopped working on it, and now...I'm retiring it.

So here's the chapter draft I had. I think I'll post it on ao3, but also I'll share my plot notes. I won't share them all that's too many lol

Story under cut

“It is my destiny,” Merlin stated as he locked eyes with the Cailleach. He would not let Arthur die - he would not let Albion die. The altar seemed to speak to Merlin - this was the right thing, it had to be. The Cailleach watched him with her sunken eyes in her pale gray face. Merlin focused on those eyes, as the woman - god - began to speak.

“Perhaps,” the Cailleach replied. Merlin tore his gaze away from her and back towards the Veil. Lancelot was going forward.

Lancelot is about to make himself the sacrifice!

“No!” Merlin shouted, his eyes glowing with burning magic. Lancelot froze before flying backwards as Arthur had done. Lancelot gasped he landed, but the fall seemed to have knocked him out. He lay still in his chainmail.

“So you choose to use up your time. That is your doing.” The Cailleach spoke and Merlin kept his gaze on Lancelot as he stepped forward. The screams reverberated in his ears, his soul, his magic. Merlin paused as he gazed at Lancelot.

I know you meant well, but this is what I have to do. Merlin gave the unconscious man a sad smile. He stepped around him and into the darkness that was death.

Merlin screamed and gold flashed before his eyes. His magic roiled within him.It was dark and growing darker. The only light in the abyss was surrounding him, engulfing him. Bright and orange as a flame. He burned.

His clothes fluttered off in pieces. First his jacket and neckerchief, then shirt and pants. Merlin was sure his boots were gone, but the burning continued.

“This is for Arthur!” Merlin felt tears on his face, a brief respite on his burning face. A crack sounded and Merlin fell backwards as the color faded. He ached all over.

“So he died? What does the Triple Goddess think of this?”

Merlin choked, trying to find air. He was shaking and he saw nothing.

What’s going on? Why am I not dead?

…Is this death?

“Emrys was not to die. She does not know.”

There was a laugh. Merlin tried to move. He wasn’t sure if he did. His body continued to burn, and the air pressed against him. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see. Everything was darkness - darker than night.

Why does everyone think death is so peaceful?

“Ah, I see.” The pain abated and Merlin felt someone - something - touching his shoulders. The darkness holding him began to fade. There was a dark, wispy figure above him.

“Emrys will change. Destiny was not coming - change was not coming.” Merlin thought the figure above him was speaking, but he couldn’t be sure.

“You cannot be sure. You are only -“

“I know what I am. I am nothing to the gods. And Emrys is. So if Albion is to rise - if the world is to enter a New Age, then…” Merlin gasped as the figure lifted him. The voice had trailed off and the figure held him close to their body.

Merlin felt like a small child being comforted by his mother. The pain was fading, though there was still no color. Or, rather, nothing bright or distinct. There were two shapes. The figure, whom Merlin could no longer see, and another standing close. Merlin couldn’t see himself.

“You intend to bring about change. Then you will become like those that left. You will never be forgiven. You know this.” Merlin felt the hesitation from the figure holding him. He turned towards the other figure - they sounded familiar. Like the -

The Cailleach? Who is this with me?

“Perhaps, if they notice what I have done. I will not allow - I…Emrys will decide. Emrys will be the cause for change. And I know when.”

The figure began walking and Merlin gasped. Air was flowing again and the area brightened. Merlin felt a chill and glanced down.

His nude, pale body was held gently by the dark, wispy figure. Merlin felt and saw goosebumps, and almost blushed. He should have blushed, turned warm.

“…Uh?” Merlin mumbled and saw movement where the figure’s head should be.

“Just rest, Em - Merlin, it’ll be…easier.” The figure stepped into the light and Merlin once more felt on fire. It dug into his soul, and he was likely screaming. He couldn’t tell - sound had vanished as the light engulfed him.

Merlin’s head fell back and he knew nothing more.

-

“Are you injured, sir?” Merlin felt small hands on his side. He slowly opened his eyes. The world was mute around him, and he didn’t know where he was. Merlin realized he was looking at the sky - but it was gray, bleak.

And yet there were no clouds.

Is this death? Have I finally entered the other world?

“Emrys will be the cause for change.”

Merlin began to push himself up. The figure’s words should…bother him, but there was nothing. No stirring of confusion or disorientation.

There was…acceptance.

“Sir?” Merlin turned to a small child, wearing a cloak of the Druids. They were in an open and exposed place. The Druid child should be hiding, or with another Druid.

“Where am I?” Merlin asked. He had wanted to ask what was going on, but instead he stared at the child. They were small - likely five or six. Their skin was dark, and Merlin could see dark, frizzy hair peeking out from under the cloak.

“Near Daobeth, sir.” Merlin glanced around. The rocky cliffs, empty paths…He remembered this place. It seemed duller than the last time.

“Have the Dorocha stopped?” Merlin asked, his voice cold. A frown tugged at his lips. He did not like whatever was going on. The child frowned at him, glancing up as the hood fell. The child was indeed young, with cheeks still round from infancy.

“But it’s spring.” The child seemed confused and Merlin blinked.

But Samhain has just passed. What happened?

“Can you bring me to your elders?” Merlin asked calmly. Too calmly - shouldn’t he be worried? The child nodded with a smile and took Merlin’s hand.

“Your magic is soft,” the child said as they began to lead Merlin. Their cloak was dark - Merlin thought it look dark gray, but it could have been green or brown.

“Soft? My magic is…wilder, freer.” Merlin wasn’t sure why he was speaking so freely. Maybe the child was keeping him calm.

Or perhaps it’s just shock. Or, if this is death, maybe there is no worry.

“It’s quiet now,” the child giggled. Merlin sighed and continued following the child. His feet dragged on the ground as the child only came to his knees.

The child rounded the corner and Merlin saw a procession of Druids. This was the largest group he had ever seen. He stared as the child released him and bounded into the group. Several adults turned as they saw their charge returning, and looked at him curiously. They turned away as Merlin stood there, but slowly the whole group came to a stop.

Merlin saw the child returning, leading a trio of cloaked adults. He assumed they were the elders of this clan.

“Greetings, stranger,” the smallest of the three greeted. They pulled down their hood, revealing an older woman with graying hair. Merlin couldn’t tell what the original color was - it seemed to simply be a lighter gray. The other two pulled down their hoods; all three were women. Or, Merlin assumed so, they had a feminine look to them. Merlin watched the child rejoin the groups of druids.

“…Greetings,” Merlin mumbled as he turned back to the trio. One of them, bright eyes and long, dark hair, took Merlin’s hand. Merlin nearly pulled away.

“What has happened to you?” the woman asked, her eyes glazing over. Merlin felt the burning return, and pulled his hand away.

“I…” The woman looked at him sadly.

“You came from so far. Your magic is hurting. Who are you?” The other two watched as Merlin opened his mouth.

“I am….Dragoon. There was a…magical mishap.” Merlin watched as the women turned to each and began whispering. Merlin blinked as he waited.

“The High Priestesses will know how to better help you. We were traveling to Camelot, perhaps you can find someone to take you to the Isle there.”

They were going to Camelot? But the -

“Might I ask what year it is?” Merlin interrupted as the elders began to turn to rejoin their clan. “I…I was once displaced several months, and this was powerful magic.” The three seemed surprised - Merlin wanted to take his words back. Time magic was rare and required immense power. Power the average sorcerer or warlock lacked. Merlin felt…uncomfortable with how they stared at him.

“Uther Pendragon has just taken Camelot, after a bloody war for his family’s stolen throne. He declared the Pendragon Age a week ago,” the older woman answered. She stepped forward with a curious look on her face. Merlin was not quite sure what it meant.

Gods and goddesses…I am alive before Arthur’s birth. Merlin felt like he should faint, but he smiled instead. He hoped it wasn’t as empty as he felt.

“Thank you, it’s only been a few days then.” The elders smiled at him then.

“Would you care to join us?” the woman who had touched him earlier offered. Merlin - Dragoon, he must now take the name - blinked.

“I…I would be honored, thank you.” Dragoon blinked again at the elders, and then turned up his lips into a smile. He felt exhausted. The elders turned then to rejoin their clan, and Dragoon blinked again.

Dragoon’s hands shook, and he gripped his jacket. It felt heavy. The ground dipped as Mer - Dragoon walked forward to join the clan. Dragoon found it difficult to lift his feet and walk with the clan.

“Hello,” a voice said. Dragoon blinked and tilted his head to the speaker. It was a druid in a gray cloak.

“…Hello,” Dragoon replied. He began to glance away when the voice spoke again.

“I am Sioned,” the voice said. A brown hand reached up to their cloak and they pulled it down. Sioned was young - Mer-Dragoon thought they were not even eighteen.

Could be wrong…They could my - no…Older.

Merlin grimaced. Everyone here was older than him. Something had gone wrong - perhaps this was truly death’s journey. It would begin to make sense…surely.

Maybe I need to find the voice, the one who brought me.

“What is your name?” Sioned quietly asked as the youth pulled Dragoon from his thoughts.

“Dragoon,” Dragoon responded. He slowly moved his eyes to glance at Sioned again. They were giving a small smile and Dragoon tilted his head at them. He could not tell if the were a young man or a young woman.

“Where do you hail from?” Sioned asked as they once more pulled Dragoon from his thoughts. Dragoon nearly stopped.

Would Ealdor be an acceptable answer? Who was king of Essetir?

“Essetir,” Dragoon blurted. It sounded like he got sick on his words, and the look Sioned gave him told him that it did. “You?” Dragoon found his words clumsier than his actions.

Why were his words clumsy? And why had the tilting stopped?

“Essetir?” Sioned questioned. Dragoon blinked - was there something wrong with Essetir at this time. “Aren’t the twin kings fighting for power?” Dragoon shrugged.

“I’ve never been much for politics.”

Except that was my destiny…the other side of the coin…What now, that I am here before Arthur’s birth?

Sioned laughed, “Well. At least the Druids found you instead of any with the High Priests and Priestesses.” Sioned pulled their grey hood back over their head.

“Are you a girl or boy?” Dragoon blurted. Dragoon stopped and his feet scrapped on the ground.

That could have come out better.

“I…well…um…” Sioned had stopped as well. The clan kept going, the few who had been surrounding or behind them soon passed.

“Shall we - ” Dragoon thought Sioned was not going to answer when they did.

“I’m a girl…woman. I’ve never seen anyone ask unless they’re asking about a newborn babe.” Dragoon forced a smile and face Sioned.

“I’m just special,” he said. He almost sounded like Merlin.

Has Merlin died and Dragoon taken his place? But Dragoon should be me - should not be separate from Merlin…

“Oh,” Sioned shrugged. “Though I have heard of people other than men and women - I’m not sure if I’ve met such a person. If I have they haven’t told me.”

“Oh,” Dragoon repeated. He nodded his head, though he frowned. He stopped nodding his head and glanced over at Sioned.

Dragoon turned away and grabbed at his neck. His neckerchief was back. He gripped it in his hand as a shake came and went.

Gods, the burning, Dragoon thought. I never want to burn again.

Something welled inside of Dragoon, but it soon passed. He let out a sigh, and continued forward. Sioned was silent, and he stopped glancing her way.

Dragoon followed the druids as they made their way through the gray canyon. The gray began to blur and Dragoon had trouble focusing on the cloaks that surrounded him. He blinked and his feet caught on the ground. He felt a hand brush his arm as he tripped, but he felt magic push him up.

“Dragoon…you are talented,” Sioned breathed.

Dragoon’s legs felt heavy as the Druids made camp. He looked up at the stars and sighed again. The exhaustion that had waned during his walk returned.

Dragoon sank to the ground. He leaned forward and let out a sigh. His eyes began to close when he heard footsteps approach.

“Dragoon?” Sioned asked. Dragoon lifted his head and forced his eyes open. “May I ask something?”

“You may,” Dragoon breathed. His eyes began to close again as Sioned sat beside him. She let out a breath before she asked.

“Do you know the legend of Emrys?” Sioned asked. Dragoon’s magic roiled within him and he opened his eyes. The darkness of the sky seemed to brighten for a moment before it faded again.

“I know there is a prophecy that he and the Once and Future King will bring Albion out of a time of darkness,” Dragoon answered before he admitted. “But I do not know the prophecy.”

Dragoon heard Sioned turn on the ground. He blinked as he stared up at the sky. His back was pressed against many small stones.

Dragoon’s magic reached out around him. It danced around the druids, whose magic shivered through the air. Dragoon lowered his arms onto the stone. He felt like the stars would reach for him, that his magic would take hold. That he would ascend beyond the only world he had ever known.

“Are you listening, Dragoon?”

“Yes,” Dragoon answered. He forced his attention on Sioned. He swallowed back the wandering magic. He should be frightened, he knew, by the sentience it was quickly gaining.

But there was nothing. Just magic and - and -

“They say Emrys will be born in ashes. Ashes of the dead. As magic is purged from the land, the Once and Future King will be born. Emrys will find him, and he will guide the king’s magic into a new age for the secular and magical world. The gods will speak to us again; and the world will know magic again.”

“Do we not already know magic now?” Dragoon closed his eyes.

It was warm in the druid camp. Safe. Dragoon had never felt so safe, even as a child. The magic flowed through the camp and around it. It encompassed the world.

Sioned laughed. “Not like before.”

Dragoon opened his eyes and sat up. Dirt and small stones fell behind him. He could feel the marks in his back. Something tugged his mind. A shadow at the edge of camp. Dragoon moved his eyes, but the shadow was gone. The thought was his, not a shadow. If he still felt, he would be worried.

He should be worried. Perhaps he was, thinking what he should feel and then not feeling it as he did. Humanity was eluding him enough that Dragoon wondered if the power of Emrys had become immortal. He had begun to suspect he couldn’t die before he sacrificed himself, but now he was a husk of a man. His magic was soaring to new heights, and Dragoon knew Merlin was being left behind.

“What was before?” Dragoon asked. Dragoon heard soft breathing.

Dragoon turned. He focused with his eyes and magic on Sioned. Her breathing made it sound like she was sleeping. He could tell she was not, but was she trying to? Sioned rolled and blinked at him.

“Before the Decline?” Sioned asked.

“Yes,” Dragoon said. “I was trained to use magic, not its history.”

History that even its whispers were burned. Dragoon shivered at the thought of burning. His mind almost slipped back into the Cailleach’s domain.

“There was a more godly magic amongst humans,” Sioned said. Her words brought him back to the druid camp. “There may have been many more, but the most powerful was the mortal who could control life and death as if they were truly a god.”

Dragoon had certainly altered destiny as Merlin, but something felt different about the magic Sioned described.

“What of wraiths?” Dragoon asked.

“No,” Sioned said with a shake of her head. “This mortal god could take life with a breath, and in the next restore it. There have been cases since the Decline began, however, of such mortal gods. I have not heard of any that live now.”

“Is Emrys one of these mortal gods?” Dragoon asked.

Sioned smiled. “That is a topic for debate amongst druid elders, but none have a firm agreement. Emrys will not be a normal warlock, but will be something else entirely. That we understand.”

Dragoon hummed. He closed his eyes.

“Good night Sioned,” he told her. He did not hear Sioned’s response.

Dragoon’s magic soared out away from him. His body fell asleep, but his mind - his soul, thrummed with the magic all around him. This was Emrys, in its rawest form. Merlin had been too frightened to unleash such power. Dragoon could remember, as a young boy, gliding through the night as he slept.

His mother taught him to hide his magic when he began doing chores in the night, and the village thought some magical horror had come to visit. The dreams had stopped before he was ten. Merlin had never had the chance to tell Gaius, or Kilgharrah, about the power he had tasted so young.

Dragoon now could do whatever he pleased. Then he felt it. Power thrummed within the magic of the world outside of camp. It had just appeared, but -

Dragoon could feel sealing death circling his soul self. His body, prone on the ground, twitched. He burned and burned and - Dragoon sent out a burst of magic. The magical force was stalwart. It held against the might of Emrys.

Stop, stop, stop, stop!

Dragoon felt pain. He felt a rush of - of rage inside his very being. Dragoon flung through the darkness. The presence drifted back away from the camp. And then he was upon it.

“Hello Dragoon,” the figure greeted. “An interesting name, since you can rebuild yourself outside of your place in time.”

Dragoon felt the burning ebb away. His soul shook in the figure’s presence. The magic had been strong before, when he was some distance away.

Now, it teased consuming his very being by the power it bled.

“I am The Messenger,” the figure said. “I have to keep an eye on you, Emrys. Merlin. Dragoon.”

Dragoon glided forward. He would take up The Messenger’s challenge, if -

“We will meet again, I’m sure,” The Messenger said. “I suggest you rest. You will have decisions in the future. And I will have my new…duties…on top of old ones.”

The Messenger faded into the darkness. Dragoon reached out. The magic was gone. He had never even gotten a proper look at The Messenger.

Dragoon blinked in this place. Magic thrummed through and around him. He flew back to his body. Then he had a dreamless, still sleep.

-

Dragoon felt a whisper of a dream. He saw his mother mouth Merlin. He opened his eyes. His vision cleared and he could almost see beyond the sky. Then it darkened with clouds. His blinked and his control was released. Gold turned to blue, and he let out a breath.

Almost, Dragoon thought. The…absence was almost broken.

Water dripped down his cheek. Dragoon lifted an arm and his spindly fingers felt tears. He was crying. Had cried. Dragoon remembered his mother’s face, but he wasn’t sure why that would make him cry. He blinked. She would be fine, alive in this time.

[timeflowedbackwardscotlau]

Intro

Welcome, one and all, to this small corner of the internet. This blog has chapters of Time Flowed Backwards, but will feature lore, and whatever else about the AU I want to share.

For those of you coming here from AO3, you'll find lore and other tidbits here (COMING SOON), and for those of you who stumbled across this blog and are wondering what this is even is, allow me to introduce you to the Time Flowed Backwards AU.

Verdandi, a weak goddess in the grand scheme of things, is given the power to turn back the clock and prevent the prophecy from ever taking place. But the fennec fox-chimera hybrid has reasons of her own to go back a century before the Bishops of The Old Faith are slain.

She wants her best friend back.

But with her return, Shamura's wits restored and growing strong by the day, comes the trials that are inevitable when Verdandi takes up the mantle of Shamura's Emissary, their assistant. The complicated history she had with the God of War and Wisdom comes back to haunt her as she struggles with not only her feelings for the bishop, but what she is expected to feel.

Shamura shares similar struggles, their interactions with mortals unorthodox, and with Verdandi's return, their sanity restored, and a society to rebuild, they must balance that ever-fine line between following their duty as a god, and their wants as an individual.

As wise as they are foolish, witness these two gods define what it means to love without lust, and handle the obstacles fate throws their way.

(So yeah, they both ace lol)

Ask Box?

You can ask me (Dragonfire2lm) questions about the AU, or you can ask the characters stuff if you like! (namely Verdandi, Shamura, Basil, and Shamura's Inner Circle as seen in chapter 6) Granted, I won't be drawing any art for the replies (I cannot draw, sorry), but I will write little snippets and stuff for the responses.

Given the content in Cult of the Lamb, I'm going to trust whoever is reading this is at least comfortable with mature themes. While I won't write anything graphic, as this is more slice-of-life romance fic with a sprinkling of drama, keep in mind that the fanfic is rated M. (Mostly to cover my arse with writing this thing with fuck-all planning)

Also, please make sure you identify whether you're asking me or the characters when providing questions. I kind of need that specified, I'm not exactly used to running an ask blog or anything.

Other Links

She Who Understood Tumblr & She Who Understood Fanfic

Honestly, this fanfic was the main inspiration for my AU, I wanted to write something for CotL for a while, but could never pin down an idea. The author of She Who Understood helped me work out some things and then I just, started writing.

So, go check out her stuff once you're done here.

[itti-bitti-yibbi]

When you accidentally tell bestie a little too much

it'a a silly lookin doodle, but still

one of the things in my au is that a great deal of knowledge about the crowns and godhood were lost during the purge of the old gods, set off by Shamura in his early days.

Merenity has strong opinions about it and is determined to set the records straight as best she can.

[explodingcelebi]

Can any of the Celebi stop time?

Stopping time is very difficult. For a time traveler like Celebi, they cannot stop the flow themselves. They can travel forwards and backwards, but to exert that control of time over others or onto a certain space would be beyond them. That level of control is something a time gear or Dialga would be able to achieve, but a Celebi, a mere time hopper that can displace themselves in time, wouldn't be able to alter it. The same train of logic goes for, say, slowing down time, or speeding it up so a person or object or space acts faster or slower.

It's more like, say, if all living things were on a conveyor belt and could be compared to Monopoly pieces, a Celebi would be able to pick up their piece and set it further ahead or behind on the track. They would not be able to slow down, speed up, or stop the belt from moving.

Unless, of course, we're talking about Gali's transformed state in the Halftime AU. Then, and only then, maaaybe she's strong enough to do that. Otherwise, all other Celebi, nah.

[staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty]

Explanation of species in my Slender AU

Valdernak:

Tall and thin, they usually have pale white skin and skin stretching over their skull in lull of a face.

Eye colours can be red, yellow, purple, or pink, with red being the most common.

Height depends heavily on gravitational pull of planet with earth levels of gravity resulting in individuals who at their tallest around 17ft, and at the lowest 11ft in height.

Tendrils varying from white to black, and are muscular and flexible appendages growing from the back from beneath the trapieze muscle

Tendrils are covered in very fine hairs which allow for a whisker like function, and give tendrils a soft velvety feel. Tendrils also double as an erogenous zone due to said hairs

Blood is a deep black colouration, resulting in their pale undertones in the skin

Their teeth which fall out and replaced periodically, are thin and sharp much like a needle. Backwards facing teeth also allow for prey to more easily slide down their throats

Radiation is present in them and is both a hunting method, and a self defense measure

Said radiation results in something known as the sickness that in humans replicates both a flu virus and the effects of radiation poisoning

The sickness is both used to liquefy the bones and organs of prey for easy digestion, and is used in Proxifcation methods where it is more regulated.

Chromosomes are a bit odd in the way they have XXXY which instead of causing dysfunctional creatures, results in a pseudo intersex species that can switch between male and female at will.

This has resulted in the species having little to no concept of gender roles and a habit of creating same sex couples

Species is known for its habit of procreating with other species which has been identified as way of introducing new genetics into the offspring which are almost always Valdernak except in the case of Void-kin

Interdimensional by nature, they are social creatures who often stay in family pods of up to twenty individuals

When searching to create new families, they will often go to other dimensions or planets in search of either a mate or a place to settle

Due to the fact that an eon is a year of aging to them, Valdernak have a habit of outliving entire solar systems

Diet consists of meat and the souls of sapient species

Able to control the elements

Valdernak split off into two main subspecies, the Valderna, and the Valdern who cannot control the elements:

Valderna:

Tall and thin like the Valdernak, they are different in the way they often possess more human skintones such as pale pinks and light browns

Eye colour can be sickly yellows, dark reds, bright greens, and blues

Face is still made up of stretched skin, they are different in the way they have darker markings that can resmemble a happy face to a singular eye, to even resembling abstract symbols.

It should be noted that no two Valderna have the exact same markings. Even twins have just slightly different markings.

Heights are also very much dependent on gravity with similar height ratios as Valdernak

Tendrils are scaly in nature and highly resemble eyeless snakes

Located on the back, coming up from beneath the trapieze muscle, these tendrils have mouths filled with sharp little teeth that are hollowed on the inside to allow for venom to flow through

Teeth in main mouth are also hollowed out, and their venom is known to be quite potent and acidic. In humans, a single bite is capable of killing fifteen grown men within thirty seconds. Seeing how Valderna have a habit of leaving multiple bites, humans generally die and begin to liquefy almost immediately.

Valderna are known to have dark colourations on the hands and feet, which are black at the hands and feet, and lighten as they travel up the arms and legs resutling in a gradient.

This will not be found on Albinos and those Melanism

Live just as long as Valdernak, have similar habits as result

Diet consists of meat and sinful souls. No one knows why, not even the Valderna.

VALDERN:

Different from the previous two as they are often cursed prey species of the Valderna and Valdernak

Eye colour is often red, though not unusual to find one with blue or green eyes.

Used to be that if a Valdernak fell in love with a member of a prey species that they would turn them into Valdern

Now it is a curse used upon prey species by their own kind.

Heights are much shorter with the tallest being ten feet and the shortest five

Tend to choose their prey based on emotions and concepts

Often have the skin color they had before their transformation and are just as faceless, though they have wounds over their skin which are badly healed leaving thick inflamed scabs behind

Age the same as Valdernak much to their chargin if not mated to a Valdern or Valdernak

Often have habits left over from their lives before

[comatosebunny09]

Devotion [ Pt. 2 ]

Summary: You have been his faithful bodyguard for years, a dear friend of his for much longer. Can you blame him for wanting something beyond that of a loyal subject and king?

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Drama, Modern AU

Warnings: OOC!Kyojuro, Female!Reader

Please enjoy!

Your name is exclaimed, causing birds to scatter from the branches overhead.

“Good morning, dear friend!” shouts the king, incandescent eyes wide and brimming with mirth.

His energy is infectious, permeating your uniform and quickening your heart rate. His Majesty forces himself into your bubble, bumping your noses together. You go cross-eyed looking at him.

“S-sir,” you blanch, stumbling backwards, “need I remind you about the importance of personal space?”

An exuberant chuckle erupts from the man as he sits back, boasting his pearly whites. He crosses his arms against his puffed-out chest. His eyes disappear beneath bountiful, dark lashes. You gulp, abruptly snapping to attention; fight down the flush threatening to take hold of your face.

“Apologies!” he begins, disrupting your thoughts, “I did not mean to startle you!” The king opens his eyes, ingesting you with a softened, amber gaze. “You can relax,” he says, motioning for you to stand at ease. You oblige with a curt nod, though there is still some rigidness in your movements.

“Now, dear friend, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Your tongue darts from betwixt your lips, wetting them nervously. You clear your throat, clasping your hands together behind you. “Your Majesty—”

“Sit!” he bellows, patting the empty space beside him.

A nervous titter flows from your mouth. You hold your hands up defensively. “Um, I-I shouldn’t.”

“Please,” he commands.

“I cannot, Majesty.”

“I insist!”

With a deflated sigh, you pour yourself into the space beside your charge; do not miss golden eyes fastened to your every movement. There is at least a foot of space between you. Anything less, and you will feel the homely heat radiating from his presence; smell the sandalwood and bergamot that clings to him. It always makes you heady, and every time, you must steel your heart against the feeling.

The blond turns towards you, giving you his full attention. That infuriatingly gorgeous smile never leaves his countenance.

“Majesty,” you venture.

“Kyojuro!”

“Um…”

“Ky-yo-ju-ro,” he enunciates.

Said man lunges toward you again, nearly sending you tumbling to the ground. If not for the powerful arm encircling your waist, you would have eaten dirt. As realization settles into your bones, a glacial thrill shoots through you. The color drains from your face, spine ramrod stiff.

“Your Majesty,” you whisper, mortified.

Your chests nearly touch, legs splayed wide against the bench. He is close enough to kiss. You do not miss how his eyes flit between your lips and your own optics. Everything is suddenly so very suffocating.

“You have been my dearest friend for years,” murmured hotly against your quivering mouth, “yet you still insist on this ‘Majesty’ business.” The king is a complete contrast to the lively man he was mere seconds ago. He often does this, too; manipulates you with hushed octaves as if exchanging a secret with a lover. Callused knuckles ghost over your enflamed cheek, and you momentarily forget how to breathe.

“Call me Kyojuro. Please.” He searches your eyes for any signs of protest. Finds none. The king gathers your cheek into his palm; strokes the small of your back affectionately with his thumb. The motions send shockwaves of pleasure crashing into your center. You release an indignant sound, not sure what to do with your hands—or any part of your body, for that matter.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, a forlorn smile taking up residence on his face. “Can we just stay like this for a little while longer?” His mouth gradually pans in…

“D-date,” you utter, screwing your eyes shut.

“Pardon?” he queries, fully intending to kiss you.

“You have a date, your Majesty. I was sent to retrieve you for your brunch date with the Duchess of Iglacia.”

Kyojuro halts his movements. Blinks as if being emptied from a trance. He slowly releases you from his embrace. For a moment, you miss the contact, biting back a piteous whine as his warmth fades from you.

“Ah. So sorry.” The king sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, a pretty blush creeping into his skin. “It must have slipped my mind.” He suddenly shoots up from the bench, lighthearted aura returned. “It would be rude of me to keep her waiting, now wouldn’t it,” he asks as if on rhetoric.

You nod dumbly beside him, trying in vain to quell the thrumming in your chest. Eyes fixated on an onyx button on your coat. You gasp as a hand suddenly thrusts into your field of vision. You follow it up to your liege. His features soften. He wants you to take it.

The word forbidden echoes in your mind like a mantra, reminding you of your place.

You stand, avoiding his outstretched arm. “This way, Majesty,” you state, stepping around him and the bench and bowing at the hip; ignoring the pout he throws your way.

After a few moments of tense silence and you staring at the tips of your boots, you hear the soft crunch of his loafers in the grass. You right yourself, following dutifully behind.

Just because you are forbidden from touching His Majesty, does not mean that he heeds the same warning.

For now, you will let it slide.

You have let it go the last fifty times he has tried to kiss you, after all.

<< Previous | Masterlist | Next >>

[tennessoui]

Kit! I feel like your TA obi-wan! I was biking home in Boston and I was going straight through an intersection (had a green light) and a car wasn’t looking and turned right and hit me. I’m fine- I’m hella sore- but I’m waiting in the ER to be sure I don’t have a concussion.

So a) ALWAYS WEAR A HELMET AND CLOSED TOEd shoes while biking!!!

But b) can I shamelessly use this circumstance for anything post obi-wan’s bike accident???

Omg!!! I’m so glad you’re alright!! If not sore :0 hopefully you can take a few days to just rest up with no activity or work or anything that sounds like it’s awful!!! I hope your bike is ok too those things can be expensive 🥺

also this is SO shameless and i love it i can’t believe you got hit by a car and you want TA Obi-Wan fic for your troubles i can’t believe I’m going to give you TA Obi-Wan for your troubles.

(2k) (TA AU, post-Obi-Wan’s bike crash (mentioned in this post))

Professor Skywalker picks up within the first two rings. “Obi-Wan?” He asks, though he must have looked at the caller I.D. and known it was Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, who’s late now, who had promised to be at the professor’s house by six, who had coyly asked for the professor to cook him a nice meal, really wine and dine him as if he hadn’t been rubbing up against the man in his office as he made the request.

It’s 8PM now. Obi-Wan is very, very late.

“How are you?” There is something guarded in his voice, something that wasn’t there when they’d spoken in the afternoon. Obi-Wan wishes he had had the forethought to call earlier, but well. He’d been thinking for the past two and a half hours that surely this cannot take that long. He’s barely banged up. How many nurses and doctors have to come see him? Surely the next one will have the leave papers he’d requested within the first ten minutes of being brought here.

“Um,” Obi-Wan says instead. “Please don’t be mad. I don’t want you to be mad.”

It’s a lost cause to say that, of course, but Obi-Wan has to try. He thinks Professor Skywalker is the sort of man to bend over backwards in order deliver to his loved ones what they want. Obi-Wan doesn’t think he’s one of Professor Skywalker’s loved ones yet, but he has to try.

There’s a long billowy sigh from the other end of the line and the scrape of a chair as the professor sits down. “I’m not going to be mad at you for not—for deciding not to sleep with me, Obi-Wan, I’m not a monster,” Anakin says. He sounds…sad. And distraught.

Slipping on black ice, thunking his head against the pavement, and twisting his ankle in the descent are all suddenly the worst things Obi-Wan has never done in his life. Anakin thinks–and probaby has thought for the past two hours—that he’s been stood up.

“No!” Obi-Wan hastens to correct him, sitting up in his little hospital bed much too rapidly. Maybe the doctors are right to think he has a concussion. His head certainly is swimming.

“I understand, is what I’m trying to say. And I apologize for any sort of pressure I may have—”

“I’m in the hospital.”

The words work wonders at cutting off the anxious flow of Anakin’s sentences. “What.”

“I um. I was biking. On the road. To your house. And I guess I didn’t notice the ice. Or maybe I just hit it just right, I don’t know. But um. I sorta crashed? I’m okay!” “You can’t be okay and also be in the hospital, Obi-Wan, unless you’re visiting or you work there. Which one?” Anakin is using his very serious professor voice now and there’s clatter in the background as he stands so abruptly that he must knock his dining room chair over.

“St. Cecil’s,” Obi-Wan says miserably. “You don’t have to come though or anything, Anakin, they’re keeping me overnight because I might have a concussion—”

And with Quinlan away visiting family, he has no one to watch him if he goes home. A liability, that’s what he is.

It’s the concussion probably that makes him sniffle at the thought and rub his nose. He’s cold too. They’d had to stick him in a bed that’s the closest to the sliding doors, and each time someone walks in or out he’s hit with a chilling breeze that the hospital gown doesn’t protect him from.

“A concussion?” Anakin bites out on the other end of the line. “Were you wearing a helmet?”

“...no,” Obi-Wan mumbles. “You promised not to be mad.”

“I said no such thing,” Anakin corrects in that same low and furious tone. “I told you you could get hurt riding that thing around with all this ice—”

There’s the sound of a car door slamming, the rumble of an engine. “You don’t have to come, please, I just called to reschedule our date,” Obi-Wan tries to say, but he’s not sure the professor even hears him over his own tirade.

“I mean the wheels on that bike must be five years old at least! No wonder you crashed! No traction, that’s what I’ve been saying, Obi-Wan!”

“I was distracted,” Obi-Wan interrupts, but Anakin is having none of it.

If anything his voice gets louder, the words sharper and interspersed with curses Obi-Wan didn’t even know exsted. 

He suddenly wishes he had not told Anakin which hospital. He thinks the man is probably going to make a scene. Maybe he’ll storm in and box his ears. Maybe he’ll put him over his lap and spank him into apologizing.

Obi-Wan coughs slightly and crosses his legs. It would be terrible to let his imagination run wild while wearing a hospital gown that hides nothing.

But Anakin’s angry voice is actually really doing it for him. “Professor, please,” Obi-Wan mumbles, and even he doesn’t know what he’s begging for. Anakin’s words cut out like maybe the call has dropped, but then he can still hear him breathing.

“Please what, baby?”  Anakin asks, and Obi-Wan turns to lay on his side.

“My head hurts already, no need to yell.”

“I’m not yelling,” he bites back in response. “I’m lecturing. This is how I lecture people when they do stupid shit and give me heart attacks.”

“I’m hanging up now,” Obi-Wan decides, though he has the funny feelng that Anakin would prefer to talk with him on the phone until he sees him in person.

And he’s proven right when Anakin’s voice rises again. “Don’t you dare,” he starts to say.

“They don’t want me on the phone in the ER, I have to go,” Obi-Wan rushes out, disconnecting the call before the warm feeling in his chest can bubble over into arousal.

That would be embarrassing, not to mention disastrous.

He really hadn’t meant to make Anakin leave his house to come get him. He hadn’t wanted to be that sort of an inconvenience to the man, hadn’t wanted to assume that they had that sort of relationship.

He really hadn’t meant to make Anakin come, but he…he likes the fact that he is. That he was worried enough about him that he left his home on an icy and cold December night to come to him.

It’s like between one blink and the next, Anakin is there, and his eyes land on Obi-Wan’s bed almost immediately. He marches forward, expression dark as he sweeps over every crevice of Obi-Wan’s being. When that’s apparently not enough, his hands fall to cradle Obi-Wan’s face and turn it which way and that, thumbing carefully at a cut that parallels his cheekbone.

“We’ll match,” Obi-Wan breathes when he feels like he cannot take a single second longer of Anakin’s shaking hands and dark gaze, raising his own hand to trace along the scar bissecting Anakin’s eyebrow.

Anakin huffs out something that’s probably supposed to be a laugh if it were a little less strangled and leans forward to knock their foreheads together. “You’re going to drive me round the bend,” he mutters quietly, just for Obi-Wan, and the use of the future tense—the casual declaration of this being more than just a one night ordeal—makes Obi-Wan’s head spin in a way completely unrelated to the concussion.

“Well,” he says, mouth dry. “Hopefully with more caution that I ride my bike.”

This response seems to be much too much for Anakin, whose hands drop to his shoulders in order to shove him tightly against his chest and hold him there. Obi-Wan presses his cheek against Anakin’s sweatshirt and fancies he can hear the race of his heartbeat.

“I really didn’t mean to make you come,” he mumbles because he’s thought it so often that he should probably actually tell Anakin as well. He carefully wraps his arms around Anakin’s waist to hold onto.

“Yeah, well,” Anakin mutters, leaning down and pressing his nose against Obi-Wan’s hair for a second before pulling back and stroking through it with a free hand. “Add it to the list with all the other times.”

It takes a few moments for the implication of that to roll through Obi-Wan’s head. When it does, he pulls back to look at Anakin incredulously, a blush working its way across his cheeks. The man has the nerve to smirk, though there’s still something soft in his eyes. “What, baby, you can dish it out but you can’t take it?”

“I assure you, I’m excellent at taking it,” Obi-Wan murmurs, preening up so his words fall more directly against Anakin’s lips. “Professor.”

Anakin’s hands tighten on Obi-Wan’s person, and Obi-Wan relishes in the heat and possession the man is giving off in waves. Anakin came for him. Anakin wanted to see him.

As of this afternoon, there’s nothing standing in the way of Anakin seeing him, touching him, showing him off around town—hypothetically at least. And, well.

Before Obi-Wan went and got a concussion, that is. 

Now, Anakin standing by his bed, Obi-Wan dressed in his clothes but wearing the sweatshirt Anakin came in with, and the doctor telling Obi-Wan (mostly Anakin) all about the care and treatment of both concussions and the various injuries Obi-Wan has sustained, he has a very bad feeling about how serious the professor is taking this. And exactly what that means for their nascent sex life.

A bad feeling that is proven correct when Anakin deposits him in his very nice and big and soft bed, carefully tucks him under the duvet and a knitted blanket, smoothes out the pillows and then his hair, before turning away.

“Hey, wait a second,” Obi-Wan protests immediately upon seeing Anakin’s broad back. “Where are you going?”

“Dunno,” Anakin tells him. “Probably watch TV or something so I can stay awake and then wake you up every few hours like the doc said.”

Obi-Wan pouts and then frowns instead when he realizes it may make him seem like he’s much too young. “Wait, aren’t we going to sleep together?”

“Doc said no strenuous activity,” Anakin replies. “So no, I’m gonna sleep on the couch.”

“Like hell,” Obi-Wan replies, and then makes a fuss about getting up from the nice warm blankets. It’s quite a production, his ankle not making anything better, but he gets halfway out before Anakin is pushing him down again and pinning him in place with one arm. This is much better.

“I said no, Obi-Wan,” Anakin stresses, but he’s looking at his lips and his gaze that of a hungry man. It makes Obi-Wan want to push his luck, so he does, leaning up until their lips brush together.

“Tell me no again,” he whispers after they separate. “You’ve been telling me no all semester.”

“I mean it this time,” the professor replies, but his voice is stiff and he’s swaying forward incrementally.

“We can just sleep,” Obi-Wan wheedles. “What if I just want to sleep with you?”

“You very obviously do not want to just do that.”

Obi-Wan’s hand traces the clenched jaw then up to the plush bottom lip. “You’re right,” he admits. “But I’ll take what I can get. It’s cold outside, Anakin. Too cold to sleep alone.”

“You’re concussed,” Anakin mutters, pulling back and wiping a hand over his mouth. Even then, he doesn’t go far.

“I’m cold,” Obi-Wan corrects, and from the slump in his shoulders, the small pout on his professor’s face, he knows that he’s won.

Carefully, as if he were made of already fractured glass, Anakin slips into bed behind him and pulls him into his arm.

After several moments of stillness, Obi-Wan pushes his luck and intertwines their fingers and raises Anakin’s hand to his mouth to press a kiss against his knuckles.

“I didn’t mean to make you worry,” he whispers.

Anakin moves his head to nuzzle against the top of his spine, pressing the smallest of kisses there. “I know, baby,” he murmurs. “Just be more careful next time, I’m too young to die from a heart attack.”

“Well, actually, no one’s too young to—”

“You know what I meant,” Anakin bites at the side of his neck in reprimand, and Obi-Wan thinks he just might.

[nevertheless-moving]

Unnamed Extremely Bad Plan to Defeat Darth Sideous AU - SW AU NO 9

Hopefully writing down this star wars au will help me exorcise the cringe demon that helped midwife it. Time travel au where obi-wan and Anakin come up with an extremely SPECIFIC and UNCOMFORTABLE plan to defeat Palpatine because it unfortunately, would actually work, as it capitalizes on one of Palpatine’s easiest to reach political vulnerabilities. This is not a unique plan- there are other au’s like this, but this one is mine. When searching for ways to explain exactly why this anti-sith strategy inspires such cringe and delight in myself I realized, with sinking dread, I have seen this in an Always Sunny episode...which yeah. I might be over reacting but hey, cringe is a personal phenomenon, everyone’s different.

Anyway! Uh here’s a bunch of plot that will eventually culminate in the plan. 

*Too much plot, aaaah*. **All plot actually.** ***Its 1 am and this is still a draft*** ****It’s 2am**** *****This post will be just be background I guess.*****

*******STAR WARS AU NO 9 LAZILY OUTLINED CHAPTER ONE*********

Force ghosts Darth Vader and Ben Kenobi have had time to yell at one another without need for breath, and have more-or-less come to terms with the trainwreck that was their shared life. I wouldn’t call them well adjusted, but they’re more stable then they were the last decade or so of their living existence. 

In haunting Luke, they end up encountering an artifact in an ancient Willis temple that offers spirits the chance to fix the mistakes they made in life. It doesn’t truly unwrite what’s been done, but it lets you create an alternate timeline. So this galaxy will still be what it is, but some alternate galaxy somewhere could at least have it better. Its almost never been used, because becoming one with the force usually lets you accept the past, but viewed objectively, Vader and Ben’s lives involved an extreme amount of yikes. They say goodbye to Luke and are flung backwards and sideways.

Anakin is holding his mother as she dies. Obi-Wan is landing on Genosis. 

Vader just barely manages to avoid slaughtering the tuskens. To be honest, he doesn’t really get why he shouldn’t- his moral compass is still pretty f-ed up. He’s fairly certain the force is just torturing him, but still he controls himself (for Padme for Luke for Leia).

I’m gonna say well-adjusted!Vader sees murder in general as more of a vice than a sin- on par with having a beer. And really well adjusted Vader is willing to admit to himself that he’s an alcoholic, he seriously cannot regulate, its a problem. He really can’t let himself go, because he’ll just end up spiraling. And so he restrains himself and only seriously maims a few of the adult raiders.

Vader figures he can always come back later and slowly torture them to death if this whole ‘save the future’ thing doesn’t pan out.

Obi-wan leaves his shuttle and hides under a rock for 30 minutes. He calculates thats just enough time for him to pretend he went on an extremely effective and sneaky fact finding mission- just in case anyone checks R4′s records. Gets back in shuttle and gets the fuck out of there, much to Dooku’s chagrin, who lost sight of him after the shuttle landed and is now going to have to switch to one of his alternate start-the-war plans. 

On the flight back he reports everything to the council- fallen Dooku and the separatist leaders, the trade federation and the massive droid army, Jango Fett the clone template of the republic army (?) working for the separatists. He briefly comms Anakin, but anyone hacking into their conversations would hear only a nonsensical, rambling conversation. Later, a hacker might turn over the idea that they were speaking in elaborate code, but why would Jedi invent such a thing during peacetime?

The war still starts; at this point in the timeline it was inevitable; the artifact was only designed to give them the chance to correct their own failings, not the galaxy’s. Palpatine still gets his emergency powers. 

The same day the armies are discovered, separatist war ships take off to engulf Ryloth. The Jedi are instructed by the senate to lead the clone army and provide immediate relief-this will not be a repeat of the republic’s inaction on Naboo. It’s both better and worse than the first Battle of Genosis. So many more civilians are caught in the crossfire. The first titanic battle is not contained to evacuated droid factories, but rages across an entire populated world. The battle lasts for weeks.

The main reason this fight is less deadly is solely due to the fact that General Kenobi manages to maneuver his way into high command of the entire army.

 “I believe assumptions were made since I was the first point of contact with Kamino, Masters,” the Knight explained apologetically to the arriving high council members. “I realize its not quite appropriate, but for right now I am the Jedi most familiar with our forces and the enemies. I would, of course, prefer to cede the role to someone else.” 

The assembled Jedi can feel the truth in that statement.

“For better or for worse, advance troops were directed by the senate to land planetside and have met heavy resistance. I managed to redirect them to a more defensible position, where they can provide surface based cover fire for incoming reinforcements. The battle has already begun.” He received a grim nod of approval from Master Windu.

“I feel the need to say now, that if there’s one thing I learned from my time as a general on Melida/Dann, or in working against Death Watch on Mandalore, its that having a clear chain of command is vital for a military to succeed. I don’t need to remind some of you that leadership breakdowns were what ultimately ended both the Stark Hyperspace War and the Yinchorri Crisis,” Masters Koon and Tiin exchanged looks before deliberately sending forth a small force wave of approval, understanding where this briefing was leading. 

“I believe that unnecessarily restructuring command before the battle is won here could do far more harm than good.” The reminder of Obi-wan’s unusually militaristic apprenticeship put some of the assembled knights at ease even as it inspired a twinge of guilt in the older masters. 

“In command you are, General Kenobi,” Master Yoda finally acknowledged. “A Jedi Master you will be, once done this battle is. Have us do, what would you?” 

The battle lasts for weeks, and when its over, the commanding Jedi and Troopers involved will openly acknowledge that had anyone else been in command, it would’ve lasted months, if not years. Facing down logistical, strategic, and tactical problems on a scale unheard of for a thousand years, High General Kenobi does not falter.

Enemy reinforcements seem unending. For all their preparation, every single trooper is new to war, and secretly concerned that should they fall, they will be replaced with cadets who hadn’t even finished their training.

Obi-Wan is putting out fires before they can start. Much to their shock, clone commanders are informed that they will, for the time being, remain in charge of their troops. With a handful of exceptions, Jedi ‘Generals’ were in fact, to be treated as a cross between highly skilled commandoes and advisors with abnormally sourced field intelligence. 

“All of you have spent your lives training to lead your brothers into combat. The Jedi Masters and knights who are being assigned to your divisions have not received such training.” 

General Kenobi addressed the division commanders, some in person, some over holocomm. All focused in rapt attention as their General reordered the shape of their lives using language they could understand.

“The command structure I am issuing is designed to maximize our ability to utilize our respective strategic capabilities, while minimizing potential loss of your life. It will be our great privilege to serve alongside such an army, and while I fully expect a complementary exchange of knowledge in time, for now, focus on survival.”

The Jedi received similar briefings, tailored for their broader array of combat and military experience. Some, including Jedi Master Pong Krell and Grandmaster Yoda, were pulled aside and tasked with the essential mission of infiltrating and destroying the Droid factories on Genosis. If they were to have a chance of winning this war, they they would need to cut off the seemingly unceasing flow of droid reinforcements. 

An elite squadron of Arctroopers and Jedi field operatives were covertly dispatched, Grandmaster Yoda himself in command. Considering Count Dooku had yet to appear anywhere near Ryloth...the grandmaster had the best chance of bringing in the fallen separatist leader alive for questioning.

Shortly after they left, Anakin arrived, having finally turned over Padme’s protection to her regular guard. With the military creation vote past, the assassination risk was considered minimal. The real delay in his arrival came from her repeated attempts to join the Grand Army of the Republic on Ryloth with the intent of coordinating humanitarian assistance. Eventually he managed to convince her that she could do more good in the senate. 

After all, he pointed out, someone would need to followup the military creation act with a bill to grant clones equal citizen rights. Otherwise, the legal grey area that cloning fell under and their non-republic origin would inadvertently make the clones slaves. 

His borrowed Nabooan cruiser entered the warzone with the grace and efficiency as a small neutron bomb.

Those close enough to see its flaming descent watched in horror, realizing that the high generals own padawan would likely be a war casualty before he ever engaged in combat.

The legion nearest to soon-to-be-ground-zero, under the command of Captain Rex of the 501st, were distracted by heated combat, as the temporary barricade they had put up to defend the civilian population gave way to droidika artillery. 

While reloading, several dozen troopers happened to look up to see a speck detach itself from the hull as at spiraled in the lower atmosphere. Hope spread that the Jedi had managed to activate some sort of eject hatch. A skilled shocktrooper could probably control and and survive such a fall with luck, which mean a Jedi almost certainly could. 

A few tactical scouts charged with watching the skies confirmed that the speck was indeed a humanoid. No chute was visible, but even 8 days into the war, rumors had already spread about how Master Windu had passed off his chute mid-air to a troopers who had been damaged by suppressing fire, cushioning his free fall solely with the tank he crushed upon landing. 

Only one trooper, stationed in the town clock tower specifically to track the Padawan’s arrival and issued with a high-resolution farscope, saw the whole thing. Fortunately for his credibility later, in its current setting, the scope automatically logged photos every 5 seconds, ensuring that for years to come Obi-Wan would have a flipbook as evidence that he was not the crazy one.

CT-3609 or Blink (as he was named after winning the division wide staring contest on Kamino two year prior) forwarded the trajectory of the vehicle to command, who confirmed his analysis that it would impact two clicks out from their makeshift fort and not present a risk to civilian or trooper lives. 

As it traversed the stratosphere a figure (desperate repair droid, Blink assumed) emerged from the cockpit to perch on the nose of the ship. As it entered the troposphere, it became painfully obvious that the figure jutting out from the hull of the ship was in fact not a humanoid droid, but an unarmored human. The Jedi stood on the prow of the ship, seemingly impervious to and oblivious of:

air resistance 

centrifugal force

normal space gravity 

Blink’s slack-jawed bewilderment

the flames engulfing the ship below him

At this range, the smirk on the man’s face was visible (man? boy? kriff is he even through puberty?). Several miles above the surface he leaped, diving towards the ground like a bird of prey. 

To the west, the ship made impact with the ground, sending a shockwave that shook the tower just enough for Blink to lose visual in the final moments of descent. Cursing, as while he was confident the Jedi would inexplicably survive, he really wanted to see how. The trooper scanned the droid-engulfed farmland to the north for a crash site, to no avail. Lingering smoke from the burnt countryside negatively impacted visibility low to the ground.

Rather than trying to articulate his report into words, he sent the 50-odd frames the farscope had saved, as well as the coordinates for the jedi’s projected radius of touchdown. A quick radio over to long range electro-ballistics ensured that his landing wouldn’t be marred by friendly fire.

He awaited follow-up questions on the absurd entry method, which, when they came, mostly consisted of variations on “...Is this for real?” and eventually “Can you set the scope to video for a little while?” and finally “Do you think that’s how he got the name Skywalker?”

There was a temporarily lull in fire from the west, likely a ripple effect from the ship’s explosion. From his vantage point Blink could see his batchmates using the opportunity to try and plug the holes in their barricade with broken droid pieces. Regardless of the itch to join them, he knew he couldn’t leave his post until the Jedi actually arrived in camp. Finally, a distant explosion and thick pillar of smoke gave the Jedi’s position away.

He tried to make out details, but the scope had a difficult time focusing through the haze. Manually trying to fine tune the scope’s settings, Blink caught a glimpse of what looked like half a hover tank sailing through the air to impact with a trade federation troop carrier in a fiery explosion. Several more explosions, flying droid artillery, and plumes of smoke were caught on record before visual contact with the source was established. He was mostly visible as a blue blur, lightsaber mowing a meandering path towards their location. 

It wasn’t until Skywalker braced himself in place to punch a droidaka into pieces that Blink caught actual sight of the man. Only his eyes were visible, nose and mouth covered by layers of cloth. He blurred, then reappeared on top a massive missile launcher attached to an absurdly heavily armored vehicle. A minute or so of rapid blue flashes passed, the longest he had seen concentrated in one area. Then Skywalker was gone, movement clearly visible as he for once he moved in a straight line, plowing a rapid path away from the launcher. 

Less than 30 seconds later, Blink had to wince away from the scope, as a burning white explosion temporarily overwhelmed the direct light filter. The trooper panicked for a moment, thinking he had gone both deaf and blind, but the abrupt, sucking silence ended after a moment with a deafening sonic boom. The shockwave rattled the farscope, nearly knocking it over, but Blink managed to steady it and himself in time. 

A cheer emerged from pleasantly surprised vod below. The entire droid legion that had been guarding the missile launcher and apparent ordinance bay was flattened. 

It took a moment for the realization to set in that the background noise of missile and and anti-missile collisions directly overhead had slowed pace. With the northern flank gone, artillery were able to redouble efforts to the east, and a second white hot shockwave ensued, signaling that the tide of battle had shifted. It was almost too easy for the republics electro-ballistics to tactically devastate the surrounding forces. 

Eventually some sort of win/loss programming must have set in and all forces outside of a certain radius began retreating southward, conceding the scorched land to the republic army. It was cadets work to clean up the final suicidal droid charge. 

A commotion ensued as Skywalker leapt the barricade with a mid-air flip. The vod greeted him with cheers, as they correctly assumed his appearance had something to do with the skirmish’s decisive victory.

Blink sent the video of the battle to command and quickly packed up his scope and assorted equipment. Hurrying down the battered tower, Blink thought to himself that this Anakin Skywalker was the best sort of Jedi a trooper could ask for.

uh sorry i got really sidetracked there moving on

Kenobi and Skywalker quickly become the face of the war once again

they grit their teeth a bit, but when they finally have a moment to really plan they eventually agree that to take down Sideous they have to cut off his political power in addition to everything else, and taking advantage of their public personas was the most accessible way to do so (*evil laughter*)

While Dooku wasn’t captured, Yoda heard the truth in his old student’s cryptic warnings about a Sith in the Senate, and the council begins carefully editing their release of tactical plans to the Chancellor’s office in the hopes of ferreting out the spy in their midst.

Pong Krell looses two arms in his duel with Dooku. Obi-Wan successfully hides his smug pleasure at the news. Anakin enjoys makeing comparisons between him and Grievous. 

Kenobi doesn’t allow the origin of the clones to go unexamined, although he agrees that if the public were informed that they don’t actually know who ordered them it would probably cause panic.

The ‘inhibitor chips’ are ‘discovered’ early on and Anakin leads the effort to ensure that they are phased out and removed immediately. This consists of reminding every Jedi who even hesitates about how how he as a child slave had some experience with control chips and unless you want to take a leaf out of the hutts books lets start doing brain surgery chop chop mmmkay?

(This isn’t to say that Vader doesn’t still a twinge of shame at acknowledging his slave roots. But it is eclipsed by the burning guilt that he knowingly acted as slave master to his troops for decades after Sideous wiped their minds. He tried to rationalize it to himself, after all he didn’t immediately understand what Order 66 had done to the troopers. But while the morality of murder was more of an intellectual concern than a personal one, treating people as things...)

The Kamonions are a little harder to budge, referencing contracts that they refuse to allow the Jedi to see

Finally Vader snuck into the Chief Medical Scientist’s home while she was sleeping and straight-up threatened to murder her and burn down her lab. At the risk of losing her life’s work, Nala Se complied.

Vader left with the final threat that in the event that Darth Tyranus caught wind and activated Order 66 prematurely, he would kill 100 Kamonians for every Jedi felled by troopers. Shaak Ti was pleased by the cloners sudden change of heart. Tyrannus, and by extension, Sideous, are in the dark. 

Obi-Wan frequently publicly confronts Palpatine about the troops citizen status, urging him make use of his emergency powers to grant them citizenship and full pay, with the option to leave the army should they so wish. 

Anakin manages to play off his avoidance of the Chancellor as disappointment in his perceived lack of dedication to anti-slavery efforts

Finally Palpatine gives in- regardless of what happens next, the troops will be looked after.

With 2/3rds of the troopers dechipped, Vaderkin is eager to kill Sideous again, but after several intense screaming matches and sparring sessions, the time travelers come to the agreement that even if they succeed in their duel, with things as they were, the perception of the Jedi military coop would cause mass civil unrest. The scattered sith apprentices, while individually weak, were more than capable of magnifying that fear and anger until the galaxy breaks. Darth Sideous wanted to ensure that if he couldn’t have the galaxy, no one would. 

(Vader knows this. Sideous enjoyed monologuing, and much of his plotting couldn’t be safely bragged about until after he had decisively won, leaving Vader as the unwilling receptacle for years of pent-up rants and self-satisfied gloats about the inevitability of his victory)

Continued Here

[coaxionunlimited]

look, i finished harrow the ninth and all I can think is that I want an au where Magnus and Abigail weren’t the first ones to die. maybe Abigail doesn’t talk to Cytherea at the party. maybe the party doesn’t happen at all. maybe she doesn’t spend her life on lyctoral research.

the whys don’t really matter. what matters is Abigail and Magnus live.

this is because i want them to be there for the final confrontation with Cytherea.

i mean, come on. imagine being the only adults in a house of horrible teenagers (and Colum Asht). imagine the teenagers you practically raised dying, and their murderer brutalizing your newest teenage adoptees friends in front of you, and you, able to do nothing to help, because you are Magnus Quinn and you did not put much effort into studying the sword. 

i think that Abigail Pent, genius spirit magician, would find cracking perfect lyctorhood somewhat easier than the bone adept or the psychometry specialist. i do not imagine that Magnus would be particularly enthusiastic about becoming a living battery for his necromancer, even with the emphasis on living.

things change, of course, when you are trapped in a cracking bone shield with three injured teenagers with a penchant for dramatic gestures. someone is going to die in there, five someones, if action isn’t taken quickly enough. Gideon is rolling up her sleeves. Harrow is burning herself up to defend them. Camilla is readying her knives. all three of them are offering to be the sacrifice.

Magnus and Abigail make eye contact. he extends a hand and whispers, into the silence of the cocoon:

“may i have this dance?”

Abigail takes his hand, and yanks him in for a kiss. around them, writ in blazing blue fire, theorems flicker to life like fireflies as Abigail Pent drinks her husband’s soul down. when the shell of bone peels away, it is Abigail who breaks Cytherea’s construct. she burns it to cremains with spirit fire, drawn from her rage and her grief and her howling hunger for revenge. 

perhaps, in another fight, this is where Cytherea takes advantage of ten thousand years of experience to defeat her newest and youngest sister. but behind Abigail, Magnus gets to his feet. he is shaky, limned in soul fire. his eyes are flickering between colors. but he is unmistakably, irrefutably alive.

that realization freezes Cytherea dead in her tracks. soon to be deader, because for the first time in his life, Magnus draws his rapier in anger and charges. it’s a desperate, inelegant move, and Cytherea cannot react in time to stop him from plunging the blade through her heart.

“for Jeannemary!” Abigail shouts, her hand stretched toward him. “for Isaac!”

he releases Palamedes’ last work in a blaze of blood and fire, Abigail’s power and her anger and the hunger of howling ghosts flowing through his sword to rip Cytherea’s body to bloody, ashen shreds. as the charred skeleton of her slides off the point of his blade, Magnus takes a half-step backwards, breathing hard.

“well,” he says, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, and dabbing at his forehead with shaking fingers. “i say.”