#echo lakes stables

[kittyj58]

Roaming in New Jersey: Echo Lakes Stables

[urdnotstxrm]

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen & Reader

AU: The Targaryen family dynamics are a blend of political intrigue and personal emotions. Rhaenyra Targaryen, the strong-willed and fiery daughter of King Viserys, is caught in a dilemma. Her father has decreed that for her to secure the Iron Throne, she must marry your brother, a match designed to solidify alliances and secure her claim. Despite this, Rhaenyra's heart belongs to you.

Continuation from here

In the guest chamber provided by your family, Rhaenyra paces restlessly. The room, though opulent, feels like a gilded cage. She can still feel the warmth of your embrace, the comfort of your presence, and it contrasts sharply with the cold reality of her situation. Her father’s decree rings in her ears, a constant reminder of the price she must pay for the throne.Rhaenyra sits by the fireplace, staring into the flames, her thoughts consumed by you. She grapples with the unfairness of it all—the love she feels for you versus the duty imposed upon her. She contemplates her options, the rebellious spark within her urging her to defy her father, to claim her own destiny. But the repercussions of such defiance weigh heavily on her mind. She fears the chaos and bloodshed that might ensue if she were to follow her heart. She thinks of you, your noble sacrifice, and it fills her with both admiration and sorrow. She knows the burden you carry, the conflict between your honor and your love for her. She wonders if there is a way to change her father’s mind, to make him see that her happiness lies not in a strategic marriage but in a union of love. As the days pass, Rhaenyra’s resolve hardens. She is a dragon, after all, and dragons are not meant to be caged. She vows to find a way to be with you, no matter the cost. For now, she clings to the hope that love will prevail, even in the face of insurmountable odds.

In the solitude of your chamber, the nights seem longer and the days, more burdensome. You sit by the window, staring out at the moonlit landscape, replaying every moment with Rhaenyra in the stables. Her words, her touch, her desperation—they haunt you. The weight of your responsibilities presses down heavily. You recall your decision to yield your right to leadership, a choice made out of duty and honor, and now it feels like a chain binding you, preventing you from following your heart. You think of your younger brother, his strengths, and the trust you placed in him. You hope he can understand the depth of your sacrifice, even if he never learns the true reason behind it. Your mind drifts to Rhaenyra’s plea, her tear-filled eyes begging for a future you cannot promise. You wonder if there could ever be a way to reconcile duty with desire, a way to find happiness without shattering the delicate balance of your world. The sound of the festivities from the great hall below echoes faintly in your chamber, a reminder of the life you are expected to lead. But your heart remains in the stables, with Rhaenyra, in that fleeting moment of shared love and sorrow.

The night was quiet and cool, the moon casting a soft, silvery light over the landscape. Unable to sleep, you stared out of your window, thoughts of Rhaenyra filling your mind. Suddenly, you noticed a solitary figure slipping out of the house and making their way towards the river. It was Rhaenyra. Curiosity and concern took hold of you, and you quickly decided to follow her at a safe distance. You moved silently, making sure not to alert her of your presence. Rhaenyra walked with purpose, her cloak billowing slightly in the gentle breeze. She reached the riverbank and paused, glancing around to ensure she was alone. Satisfied, she stepped into the water, the moonlight reflecting off the rippling surface. You remained hidden, watching her from the shadows. She waded deeper into the lake, the water lapping around her, a serene look on her face as she sought solace in the cool embrace of the water. Your heart ached with longing, knowing she was so close yet unreachable.

As you watched from the shadows, the night air seemed to grow thicker, more charged. The sight of Rhaenyra's clothes being shed before she stepped into the lake played over and over in your mind, each piece of fabric falling away revealing her form. Your heart pounded harder, the quiet stillness of the night doing nothing to quiet the thoughts invading your mind. You tried to focus on her safety, on the purity of your concern for her well-being, but it was impossible to ignore the stirring of desire within you. The moonlight accentuated her every movement, casting a soft glow on her bare skin as she moved through the water. You imagined the feel of that skin, smooth and warm under your fingertips, and the thought sent a shiver down your spine. The ache of longing mixed with a deeper, more primal desire. You found yourself gripping the edge of the tree you were hiding behind, trying to ground yourself, but your mind was filled with images of her—her body, her touch, her breathless whispers in the dark.

As you watched Rhaenyra in the moonlit water, your thoughts shifted from longing to a burning sense of injustice. The idea of your brother, destined to have her, filled you with a rage that was difficult to contain. He would be the one to hold her, to be by her side, to share her life in ways you could only dream of. The thought of him touching her, loving her, and claiming her as his own made your blood boil. Your fists clenched at your sides, nails digging into your palms as you struggled to maintain your composure. It felt profoundly unfair that duty and circumstance had placed your brother in a position to be with the woman you loved. Every fiber of your being rebelled against the idea, and the jealousy and anger gnawed at your resolve. Rhaenyra, oblivious to your inner turmoil, continued to move gracefully in the water, a picture of serenity that only intensified your anguish. You wanted to be the one beside her, to be the one she turned to, the one she loved openly and freely. The knowledge that you could not change your fate or hers filled you with a helpless fury.

As you watched Rhaenyra, the vision of her in the moonlit water became too much to bear. Despite your efforts to stay composed, your body betrayed you. You felt the growing hardness in your trousers, a physical manifestation of the desire that had been gnawing at you. You glanced around once more to ensure you were alone, and your hand drifted down almost of its own accord, coming to rest on your erection. The sensation was immediate and intense, and you rubbed slowly, your mind flooded with sinful thoughts of what it would be like to touch her, to feel her skin against yours. Every movement of her body in the water fueled your fantasies. You imagined her turning towards you, inviting you to join her, her lips whispering your name with desire. The thought of her hands on you, her body pressed against yours, drove you to rub yourself harder, the pleasure and the torment of it mingling in an almost unbearable way.

Each stroke brought you closer to the edge, and you had to bite your lip to stifle a groan. The need for her was overwhelming, a burning ache that seemed to consume every part of you. You knew it was wrong, that your thoughts were a betrayal of your duty and your honor, but in that moment, all you could think about was Rhaenyra and the forbidden desire that she ignited within you. Your hand moved faster, driven by the images in your mind, the sight of her bare skin, the imagined feel of her under your touch. The tension built and built, your breathing growing ragged as you approached the brink. Finally, with a stifled gasp, you reached your climax, your body shuddering with the release. As the waves of pleasure subsided, you were left with a profound sense of guilt and longing. The night air felt colder against your skin, and the reality of your situation came crashing back. Rhaenyra was still there, just out of reach, and you were once again left with nothing but your unfulfilled desire and the painful knowledge that she could never truly be yours.

[tessa-liam]

Snow Wars

Brothers-in-Arms Series- Prequel

🥰Thank you to @snoopdogcone for your ask - 

Prompt:  Snowball fight - Week 2 December 1st to 7th @choicesprompts 

Choices Book: The Royal Romance, pre-book #1

Series:  Brothers-in-Arms, prequel/one-shot 

Pairing: None  Warnings: none

Characters: Liam Rys, Drake Walker, Maxwell Beaumont, Leo Rys, Olivia Nevrakis, Eleanor Rys, Trystan Thorne 

Rating: Teen - All characters belong to Pixelberry

Category: angst/fluff, ask/prompt 

Words: 1.7k, not Beta’d, please excuse all errors 

A/N: A ”Brothers-in-Arms" series prequel

A/N2: Trystan Thorne - Choices, Crimes of Passion

A/N3: My submission for: choicesdecember2024; Day 10, snow; Day 30, snowball fight @lilyoffandoms

Brothers-in-Arms Series

Snow Wars, Prequel

Summary:  Liam, Drake, Maxwell, Olivia, Leo, and Trystan engage in a spirited snowball fight during their winter stay in Lythikos. What begins as a friendly challenge quickly turns into an epic battle, filled with strategy, laughter, and good-natured rivalry.  

On a crisp winter morning in Lythikos, eight-year-old Prince Liam gazed out of the frosted window of Lythikos keep. The fresh snowfall blanketed the landscape in a shimmering white, and an idea sparked in his young mind. 

 “Snow fort,” he whispered to himself, eyes lighting up with excitement. 

Rushing to his quarters, Liam rummaged through his suitcases until he found ‘The Young Adventurer’s Guide to Winter Fun’. A gift from his mother, Liam flipped through the pages, he stopped at a detailed diagram of a snow fort, complete with instructions on stacking snow bricks and carving tunnels. 

“This is perfect!” Liam exclaimed excitedly, clutching the book tightly and rushing back down the grand staircase. 

 He quickly found his best friends, nine- year-old Drake and eight-year-old Maxwell, in the keep's cozy sitting room. Drake, the practical and steady son of a palace guard, was warming his hands by the fire, while Maxwell, always brimming with energy, was busy fashioning a makeshift sled from a serving tray. 

“Who’s up for building the greatest snow fort in Cordonia?” Liam announced with a grin, holding up the book like a treasure map. 

Drake, ever the skeptic, raised an eyebrow. “A snow fort? Isn’t that for kids?” 

“Drake, we are kids,” Maxwell chimed in, already excited. “I’m in!” 

“Looks like we have a deal,” Liam said, clapping his hands. “Let’s divide into teams!"

Olivia, sitting quietly with her hot cocoa, perked up. “I’ll be on Liam’s team!” she declared, her cheeks turning pink. At seven years old, Olivia was already fiercely loyal to Liam, even if it was mostly because she had a budding infatuation with him. 

“First,” Liam said, flipping the book open to the diagram, “we need to make snow bricks. The book says to pack snow into molds to make them strong.” 

Drake, ever the realist, crossed his arms. “Molds? We don’t have molds.” 

“Not a problem,” Liam said confidently. “We’ll use whatever we can find—buckets, pans, anything.” 

 Armed with pots, pans, and boundless enthusiasm, the three boys and Olivia ventured into the snowy expanse and trekked to the edge of the icy lake near the keep, followed by several Royal guardsmen. The air was cold and crisp, their laughter echoing as they began packing snow into their makeshift molds. 

Maxwell, already covered in snow from head to toe, announced loudly, “I’m the official Chief. Brick. Maker!” 

 Drake rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Fine but make them sturdy. No crumbling bricks.” 

Meanwhile, Olivia took charge of decorating the fort with pine branches and icicles, making it “look royal.” Adding a small Cordonian flag attached to a stick, she propped it into a turret top.

Hours passed as the boys stacked their snow bricks into walls. Liam, with the book propped open nearby, directed the construction like a young architect. Drake ensured the walls were straight and stable, while Maxwell worked on a tunnel inside the fortress walls.  

By the time the sun began to dip behind the snowy peaks of the surrounding mountains, the fort was complete. It stood tall and proud, with sturdy walls, a small entrance, and even a snowball arsenal inside. 

 “We did it!” Liam declared, his cheeks flushed with triumph. 

 Maxwell flopped onto the snow, exhausted but grinning. “This is the greatest thing we’ve ever built!” 

Drake leaned against the fort’s wall, nodding in agreement. “Not bad, Your Highness. Not bad at all.” 

 As the evening settled over Lythikos, the four friends sat inside their creation, sharing stories and sipping hot chocolate brought out by the keep’s kitchen attendants. For that moment, the snow fort wasn’t just a fort—it was their Kingdom, a place where adventure and friendship reigned supreme. 

><><>< 

 The winter sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the snow-covered grounds of the keep. Crown Prince Leo and Crown Prince Trystan of Drakovia stepped out of the black SUV, their boots crunching in the freshly fallen snow. It had been a grueling day of lessons—diplomatic protocols, strategic warfare, and a particularly tedious lecture on trade agreements—but now, finally, they were free. The sixteen-year-old young men were having military lessons at the army stronghold nearby. 

 As they walked towards the main entrance of the keep, Trystan nudged Leo with his elbow. "Looks like someone’s been busy," he said, pointing in the direction of the lake. 

Leo followed Trystan’s gaze and smirked. Beside the outline of the frozen lake stood a grand snow fort, its walls expertly packed and reinforced, with small openings that served as lookout points. Surrounding it were scattered piles of snowballs, clearly prepped for an impending battle. From behind the fort's walls, they spotted movement—Liam’s blond hair peeked out, followed by Drake’s unmistakable silhouette and they heard Maxwell’s exuberant laugh. 

“Oh, absolutely,” Leo replied with a grin. “Let’s show them why we’re the older brothers,” as they moved toward the lake. 

 Without another word, the two princes bent down, scooping up handfuls of snow to form their own ammunition. Trystan was already calculating strategy. “We’ll flank them—split up and take the high ground. They won’t know what hit them.” 

 Leo chuckled. “Or, we could just charge in and cause chaos. That’s more fun.” 

 “Chaos it is,” Trystan agreed, and with that, the battle was on. 

Behind the fort walls, Liam crouched low with Drake and Maxwell. “They’ve seen us,” Liam said, his voice tinged with excitement. “Stick to the plan.” 

 Drake, ever the strategist, nodded. “We’ve got the fort’s protection. Maxwell, you’re our wildcard. Keep them distracted.” 

 Maxwell saluted dramatically. “Distraction is my specialty.” 

As Leo and Trystan advanced, Maxwell popped up from behind the fort, holding a massive snowball. “Incoming!” he yelled, hurling it with all his might. The snowball arced through the air, landing harmlessly a few feet from Trystan, who retaliated with a well-aimed shot that splattered snow across Maxwell’s face. 

“Direct hit!” Trystan cheered. The battle began with a flurry of snowballs flying through the air. Laughter echoed across the courtyard as both teams ducked, dodged, and launched their icy ammunition. 

Leo, meanwhile, launched a barrage of snowballs at Drake, who blocked most of them with an improvised shield of snow. “That’s all you’ve got?” Drake taunted. 

 “Oh, not even close,” Leo replied, sprinting forward and scooping up more snow as he went. He hurled two snowballs at once—one hit Drake’s shoulder, the other narrowly missed Liam. 

 “Nice try!” Liam called out, popping up from his hiding spot to lob a snowball at Leo. It caught him square in the chest, leaving the older prince momentarily stunned. 

“Think we’re being challenged?” Trystan asked, raising an eyebrow. 

 “Little brother’s got a good arm!” Leo laughed, brushing snow off his coat. 

Drake proved to be an excellent snowball sniper, hitting his targets with impressive precision. Maxwell, on the other hand, turned every hit into a dramatic fall, faux-claiming to be “mortally wounded” before springing back to life. 

Olivia stuck close to Liam, her aim chillingly accurate, but her real focus on staying by his side. “Liam, watch out!” she cried, tackling him to avoid one of Leo’s well-aimed snowballs. 

“You saved me, Olivia!” Liam said with a grin. 

“Of course I did!” she replied, blushing. 

 The fight continued on with laughter echoing across the grounds. Maxwell, true to his word, caused chaos by running circles around Trystan, throwing snowballs in every direction. Drake held his ground valiantly, while Liam alternated between offense and defense, his precise throws keeping his older brother and Trystan on their toes. 

 Finally, as the sun dipped below the horizon, the princes called a truce. They stood together in the snow, breathless and rosy-cheeked, their earlier lessons and responsibilities momentarily forgotten. 

 “Not bad, little brother,” Leo said, clapping Liam on the shoulder. “But next time, Trystan and I will bring reinforcements.” 

“Bring whoever you want,” Liam replied with a smirk. “We’ll still win.” 

As they walked back to the keep, they exchanged playful jabs and stories of their victory and near-misses. For a brief moment, they weren’t princes with the weight of kingdoms on their shoulders, or children—they were just brothers, and friends enjoying the magic of a winter’s day.

The fun came to an abrupt halt when Queen Eleanor Rys, Liam’s mother, appeared on the scene, her presence regal yet warm. 

“Liam, Leo, and everyone,” she said with a smile. “It’s time to get ready for the ribbon-cutting ceremony in the city.” 

“But we’re in the middle of a war!” Leo protested, his snowball in hand. 

Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “A snowball war can wait. The people of Lythikos are expecting us, Leo.” 

“Olivia, I’d like you to join us,” Eleanor added. “I could use a young lady’s perspective.” 

Olivia’s face fell. She had been looking forward to spending the rest of the day with Liam, and the thought of being separated from him was disappointing. 

Olivia hesitated, glancing at Liam. “Do I have to?” 

Liam crouched down to her level, brushing snow off his gloves. “You’ll have fun, Liv. And I’ll see you later, okay?” 

“Okay,” she mumbled, still reluctant but unable to refuse Liam’s gentle encouragement. 

A Memorable Day ...

As Eleanor led Olivia away to a waiting SUV, the others exchanged knowing smiles. “Looks like we’ll have to finish this battle another day,” Liam said. 

“Next time, we’re building two forts,” Leo declared as he ran inside to change his clothes for the ceremony.

"Or three!" Maxwell added with a laugh.

Despite the interruption, the day had already become one of those cherished childhood memories that none of them would forget. The laughter, camaraderie, and hint of youthful rivalry in the snowy dukedom of Lythikos marked the start of many more adventures to come.

'There's so many different worlds

So many different suns

And we have just one world

But we live in different ones'

❄️Thank you @sazanes @lizzybeth1986 for creating and hosting King Liam Appreciation Week✨️💖✨️ Day 5, Healing

❄️Artwork Commission by /artbyainna

@kingliamappreciationweek

@choicesprompts

@choicescommunityevents

@choicesmonthlychallenge

@choicesficwriterscreations

❄️Tags in the comments

[danikamariewrites]

Hello there saw you wanted some requests for Gavriel so here it is, could you right something with a reader who loves horse back riding and often goes alone to explore the woods for fun or just to decompress after a long week, but on one of these rides reader gets ambushed and when they dont come home Gavriel knows somthing is wrong and eventually finds them( if you could also add the Cadre helping Gavriel find reader).

Hope this request finds you in good health happy writing!

Light in the Dark

Gavriel x reader

A/n: I added Aedion as part of the Cadre lol. I love the relationship between Gav and Fenrys and imagine that he and Aedion would be like brothers so I threw that in there too. Thank you for the request anon!

Warnings: angst, fluff, and unedited lol

You love going horseback riding through Oakwald Forest. The fresh air helps you think and calm your anxieties from the day. Sometimes Gavriel would go with you as a silent companion. Sometimes he’d walk beside you in his lion form. He could feel when you were stressed through the bond and reminds you to go on rides.

He always encouraged you to take breaks, saying you wouldn’t get good work done if you couldn’t focus. And as always, he was right. Throwing your pen down on your desk you stand and stretch. You had been working for too long and policies have started blending together.

You tug on the bond to get Gavriel’s attention, sending a message to tell him you were going for a ride. He flooded the bond with love. You could distantly hear him say, “Be careful, my heart. I’ll see you soon.”

Approaching your horse’s stall you heard Clara huff, scrapping her hoof against the hay that lines her stall. Peeking over the door you smile at her. “Hi girl, I brought you a treat.” You hold out an apple in the palm of your hand that Clara chomps down on immediately.

While she’s busy with her snack you start to brush Clara’s golden mane. She’s so beautiful, you could just stay here and brush her silky hair. The stable boys always insist on prepping her for rides but you like doing it yourself. It makes you feel like you did something productive.

Clara was a gift from Gavriel when you first started working in Aelin’s court. She’s well taken care of in the stables at the castle. And you love that you get to visit her whenever you want.

Strapping the saddle on her back you lead Clara out of the barn to the courtyard. Mounting her you lightly dig your heels into her sides to get her moving. Starting off at a walk you head off for Oakwald.

An hour into your ride you pull on Clara’s reigns bringing her to a stop. You look around confused. You should be at the lake by now. Where are you? Clara knows where she’s going, so why were you lost? You slip off the saddle to look around for landmarks that might tell you where you are.

A groan that sounded like a tree breaking echoed through the small space. You covered your ears waiting for it to be over. Darkness rolled in above the tree and the wind howled. Clara tensed, throwing her head back letting out a neigh that was practically a scream. She turned on her hind legs and started booking it out of the forest.

“Clara! No! Come back!” You start running after her until an invisible force hits you square in the chest knocking you to the ground. Gasping for breath you sit up on your knees. You whip your head around wildly looking for the source of your attacker.

A misty dark mass takes shape in front of you. It’s only discernible feature two white glowing eyes. Your eyes go wide, watching the darkness swirl in and out. You feel frozen. The darkness moves forming an arm, extending it toward you. Fingers separate and close around your throat. A chill runs through your body before your vision blurs and you fall into a deep sleep.

——

As Gavriel’s meeting with Rowan and his advisors, he pulls on the bond. It’s quite on your end. He tugs harder and floods the bond with concern and love. No response again. Worry takes over his features as he leans back in his chair, Gavriel’s knuckles turn white from how hard he’s clenching his knuckles.

He jumps a little at the feeling of Rowan’s hand on his shoulder. “What is it?” His tone hushed as the rest of the Cadre file in. “It’s y/n. She’s there but…I can’t feel her.” Rowan bites his lip in thought, a small frown forming.

Lorcan sits on Gavriel’s other side. “I have a bad feeling. Y/n never does this.”

“Do you want to ask if anyone in the stables has seen her?” “Please, thank you Fenrys.” The white wolf nods, leaving the room at a hurried pace. He’s like a son to Gavriel, meaning that he’s very protective of you. Aedion and Fenrys were the first two people Gavriel introduced you too. He knew both would go to the ends of the earth to protect you. You were growing to be a mother-figure for both of them so gods forbid any harm come to you.

While waiting for Fenrys to return Rowan and Lorcan talk him through where you could possibly be. He lists them all, talking through the steps you take and what you like to do.

Taking a break, Gavriel looks out the window and notices the late afternoon sun. It’ll be dark in a few hours. He wouldn’t be able to do anything if you weren’t home for dinner. He’s considering going out in his lion form to search for you when Fenrys comes barging back into the meeting room.

The young pups face is wild with rage and worry. “No one has seen her. And Clara isn’t in her stall.” He growls out. The three males turn to Gavriel, waiting for orders. Aedion comes flying into the room seconds later, slightly panting, his chest moving quickly. He could smell the fear and anger rolling of Fenrys as he ran through the castle.

“What’s going on? I saw Fenrys running and knew something was wrong.” “Y/n is missing. We don’t know where she is and no one has seen her.” Aedion’s eyes meet his father’s. Worry simmering in those Ashryver blue-greens. He stands straight, his hands clasped behind his back. “What do you want us to do dad?”

“Follow me.” He said storming out of the room and down to the stables. The Cadre followed, ready to follow his command.

The plan is to split up to search different sections of Oakwald that you like to explore. Lorcan and Aedion mounted their horses and headed east. Rowan transformed into a hawk to look overhead and covering as much ground as possible. Fenrys transformed into a wolf and headed west while Gavriel headed north to the lake.

He didn’t transform yet, he was just focused on getting as far as he could to find you. Gavriel squinted as he approached a clearing. A wall of darkness between trees separated a section from the rest of the forest. He heard rustling from all sides and drew his sword.

Rowan landed first, then Lorcan and Aedion emerged, and then Fenrys holding the reins of your horse. “Clara?” He whispered, reaching out to stroke her snout. “I found her wandering then she noticed me and pulled me back here.”

“My shadows found the wall a half mile that way. I sent them in to try and find her.” Gavriel felt the blood leave his face. His eyes went wide as he turned back to the swirling mass. Reaching out a reluctant hand, Gavriel touched the darkness. He expected resistance but his hand fell through. Stumbling a little he righted himself, taking a deep breath he formulated a new plan.

The bond was glowing making his protective fae instincts kick in. His mate was in danger and he had to go in there.

“Gavriel,” Rowan says cautiously. Before they could talk Gavriel out of his new plan he leapt into the darkness. Without thinking Fenrys and Aedion followed, leaving Rowan and Lorcan to keep watch.

Fenrys and Aedion flank Gavriel, drawing their own swords. “We stick together.” Gavriel says as he steps further into the woods. It feels like hours before there’s any sign of you. Gavriel sniffs the air picking up your scent.

He starts running until he’s skidding to a stop. Dropping to his knees Gavriel pulls you into his arms from your spot in the brush. He presses his ear to your chest to make sure your heart is still beating. The bond humming with joy at the fact you were reunited. Gavriel’s only focus now is to get you back to the castle.

——

When you came to your head was pounding, your vision swimming in and out. You let out a groan and you hear Gavriel scramble to sit on the edge of the bed. “My heart, are you alright? Can I get you anything?” “Water,” you croak out. He moves to grab the glass of water from the bedside table.

Helping you up Gavriel holds the glass to your lips. You gulp the water down like you’d never have any again. Letting the glass go you slump into Gavriel’s side.

“What happened?” Gavriel lays you back down, fluffing your pillows. “We aren’t exactly sure. Lorcan and Rowan found that phantom-thing and chased it down. They lost it but the guards are on the look out for it and Aelin has the little folk keeping their eyes out too. The healers checked you out and your ok, just cold for a while which scared me.”

You gave him a small smile, bringing your hand to cup his face. “I’m sorry I scared you.” “Hey, you don’t need to apologize. I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner.” “But you did find me. And brought me home, like you always do.”

He let out a breathy chuckle, “Yeah, and I will for the rest of our lives.” You pull him closer to you for a kiss. You break apart at a soft knock on the door. Gavriel sighs, tilting his head back in annoyance. You giggle at him. “Fenrys and Aedion want to see you. They’ve been worried about you and want to see you.” You let out a small aww.

When you and Gavriel first started dating you jokingly called and treated Aedion and Fenrys sons. You are older than both of them so they viewed you as a mother figure, always coming to you for advice over Gavriel and hanging out with you when he was out on missions.

When you accepted the mating bond you asked Aedion if he would be ok with you officially adopting him, even though he’s an adult, you just wanted him to know that he was part of your family. Since the bond the two boys have been very protective of you.

“Let my boys in.” You sit up as Gavriel begrudgingly opens the door. You heard him give them a stern warning before they entered quieter than usual. “Hi y/n.” “Hi boys. Come, sit with me.” You pat the bed and they happily jump up.

Gavriel slides in next to you, a gentle arm, wrapping around your shoulder. You love moments like these where your family is together and safe. You squeeze Gavriel’s hand as a thank you. For bringing you home and always looking out for you.

[edbloves]

Small Drabble set in the All My Hope Universe

1.8k words; at this point, they've had Grace for a while. She's comfortable with them, thinks of both of them as her parents, and is experiencing her first thunderstorm. Inspired by this post.

Hammered this out in the hour before my soccer game. Enjoy!!

Rain slams in harsh sheets against the house, rattling their single-pane windows. It echoes through their hallways into the darkness of each room, and this far out from the city the storm feels big enough to shake the house. Gale and John are lying in bed, legs tangled together and facing each other. Lightning blazes across the sky in harsh bright flashes, followed closely by enormous booms of thunder seemingly hovering overhead. 

“It sounds like…” John whispers nervously into the dark, but trails off, unable to finish the sentence out loud. He doesn’t need to.

“Yeah.”

And he’s right, it sounds like the vast mine fields of flak they used to risk their lives navigating through. If he closed his eyes, it wouldn’t take much for John to be back there, sky high and gripping the yoke in a fight against his failing fort. It’s all too familiar the way the booming thunder mirrors the way flak bursts and explodes, the way lightning crackles and burns like fiery graves. He knows it's the same way for Gale.

“It’s not, though.” John murmurs, grounding himself in their reality, convincing himself as much as he is Gale.

“No, it’s not.” Gale nods along, his face pinched and tense as he flinches at another round of thunder and lightning. 

The moments feel heavy between them, anxious with anticipation as they wait for each wave of the storm and flinch when it comes. John presses the side of his head harder into his pillow, tries to muffle the noise further. He feels Gale’s hand clasp tightly around his own, thumbs interlocking and grip almost bruising if it weren’t for how comforting it feels. The memories of sheet metal, shredded through by bullets and screaming-hot flak, of men – the living dead, really – flying through gruesome, airborne graveyards never feel closer to him than they do now. 

It's a doozy of a storm, too. The weatherman on the radio had been warning of its progression all week, and Gale and John had been dreading it more and more with every morning update, but they’d dutifully boarded up the stables and bedded down the horses, taking more precautions than they thought would be necessary. Gale had come home with a paper bag stuffed with extra candles, and John with extra cans of gasoline for their truck, fearsome of being caught unprepared. While John had spent half the afternoon chopping wood for their fireplace, Gale and Grace stocked up on groceries, all the while dreading the storm’s arrival. 

It would be Grace’s first thunderstorm with them, and though she claimed not to be wary of it, both men had their doubts. New York city storms weren’t comparable to the winds that whipped up over the Great Lakes and the storm clouds that rolled in pouring torrents of rain over Wisconsin. They’d done their best to keep their somber mood away from her, tried to infuse a light and unbothered tone into their words and faces, but it had been difficult to say the least.

They’d put her to bed that night just as the winds were truly starting to pick up, rustling through the trees and whistling eerily through the woods around them. John silently prayed to himself all through her bedtime routine that she’d drift off to sleep before the storm seriously hit them, though he knew it was likely a fool’s belief to think she’d make it through the night without waking.

Neither of them had slept a wink, too keyed up and wary of Grace waking up scared. They’d both gotten up numerous times to peek in on her, anxiety driving them from bed, but so far she’d remained asleep and curled up with Meatball.

They make it another twenty-five minutes buried beneath the safety of their duvet, before John catches the telltale snick of her bedroom door opening, and the pitter-patter of her little feet on the hardwood floor above the racket of the storm. He’s out of bed in seconds to meet her at the door, Gale sitting up sharply in bed behind him. Flinging the door open, he finds her clad in her butter-yellow pyjamas clutching Bunny with thick tears welling in her eyes, Meatball hot on her trail.

“Daddy!” She cries, and John has her picked up and cradled in his arms before she can even reach her arms out for him.

“Oh, baby.” John shushes. “Come here. You’re okay, Gracie, you’re alright.”

She tucks her head into his shoulder and cries into the soft cotton of his t-shirt as he rakes a gentle hand through her blonde curls. Gale looks at him holding her from his place in their bed and his face is painted with a pained sadness that John’s own feelings match.

“Were you scared of the storm, baby?”

He gets a muted nod that he feels against his chest rather than sees as he settles them down onto the bed. Meatball pushes his luck and hops up onto the bed too.

“That’s alright, Gracie.” Gale murmurs and reaches out to slide a hand along her back. “It’s a scary storm. Real big.”

As her cries settle into hiccuping breaths now that she’s in the safety of John and Gale’s presence, John extracts himself from her grip and settles her in his lap instead so that she can see Gale too.

“You wanna stay here with us, tonight?” He whispers into the darkness as another crash of thunder hits so loud that he hears the windows rattle, and sends Grace diving for the safety of John’s arms once more.

When a tiny, timid “Yes, please.” echoes from the crook of his elbow, he breathes a sigh of relief. He and Gale weren’t sleeping anyways, and this way they can keep an eye on her.

Gale pulls back the duvet between them and John deftly slots her between it in the momentary break between rounds of thunder and lightning. He follows suit immediately, settling in next her to her and bracketing her small frame between his and Gale’s.

“It’s just a storm, Gracie.” John whispers from his place lying next to her. “Just a bit of thunder and lightning and rain. It’ll pass.”

She burrows herself further into the bed linens with each passing crack of lightning and boom of thunder, and visibly unable to stand her fear, Gale had taken both her hands between his and let her squeeze them tightly enough that the force of her grip blanched his skin. When a sharply loud one echoes close enough that it seemingly feels right on top of them and draws a whimper from Grace, John caves and gathers her up to his chest, arms locked around her with her hands still linked with Gale’s.

“Why does is it sound so mean?” She cries.

“It’s not mean, honey.” Gale whispers, and slides in close to Grace and John, petting a hand along the crown of Grace’s head and down to cup her cheek. “It’s just very loud and scary, but you’re safe here.”

“You promise?" She asks, eyes wide and rounded out with fear. In this moment, John knows they'd both promise her anything in order to wipe that look off of her face.

"Promise." Gale assures.

The storm is taking its sweet time passing over them, and it's eerie that it doesn't seem to move on, hovering and crackling above them. Buried beneath their pile of blankets, the three of them taking shelter in their bed eases something twisted up and gnawing in John and he feels a little more grounded in reality than he did earlier. But Gale, for all his assurances to Grace, seems to be teetering dangerously close to their old reality, twenty-five thousand feet high and four thousand miles away.

He jostles Grace a little as he drags his palm up Gale's arm and roughly squeezes the junction between his shoulder and neck. Gale's eyes snap to his at the brusque grip and John gives him a firm look. You with us? He tries to ask with his gaze, but Gale doesn't seem to be hearing it. Instead, his whole body jerks sharply in tandem with a deep, rolling boom of thunder. It's hard enough to catch the attention of Grace, who frowns soft and concerned.

"Daddy scared too?" She asks, referring to Gale with worried curiosity dripping from her voice as she watches him.

John watches as he clearly hears her, and evidently tries to answer but no words come out. Instead, he flinches again in synchronization with the storm. John answers for him; goes to lie but thinks of Gale's dedication to honesty with Grace - or at least mostly-truths.

"The sounds remind Daddy of bad memories, is all, baby. It's very difficult to forget them during times like this." He answers, as vaguely honest as he can muster.

She turns in John's hold to tilt her head up and look at him, worriedly clarifying, "Daddy is hurting?"

He goes to dissuade of this notion - he's not hurting, not in the literal meaning of the word, but stops. He knows from experience, being back there in your head, witnessing the horrors on an endless loop, it's a harrowing, terrifying experience and though the pain isn't physical, it's feels real and true inside his mind. "Yeah, Gracie."

"Maybe I can help him feel better?" She whispers, and squirms out of John's embrace to crawl closer to Gale. John keeps a hovering hand nearby as she gets into his space, wary of her startling Gale and ready to snatch Grace back quickly.

He sees recognition bloom in Gale's eyes and he breaths a gentle sigh of relief. She shimmies into the space between Gale's arms and peers up at him. "It's okay, Daddy. You're safe here." She murmurs, parroting his own words back to him.

The corners of Gale's lips tilt up and he closes his eyes, embracing Grace close to him. In turn, Grace tilts her face up so that she can see his face, and cups his face between her hands, palms tiny against his stubbled jawline and cheeks. "I love you, Daddy." She says, and leans in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose.

John, watching this, feels his throat close up around a thick lump, struck by how sweet his daughter is. She continues pressing small, childish kisses around his face - both cheeks, his eyelids, the tip of his nose again, his forehead - and whispering that she loves him, and that John also loves him, and Meatball, too.

When she sits up, satisfied with her work and now entirely oblivious to the lightning flashing ominously outside, she looks at John with a nod and informs him, "I think Daddy will feel better now."

As she makes to crawl back into John's arms, he catches Gale's gaze - eyes now open and fully with them - and get's a soft smile and a wink in response. Then he's reaching out and snatching Grace away from him, receiving a shrieking giggle from her in response. He tucks her into his side, and as John is laughing alongside them, he catches Gale's murmured, "I love you too, Gracie."

[that-vexaholic-cryptid]

Flurry Rush

The light came through the sky so brightly it seemed to make everything it touched new again. All around where I stood, Hyrule shed the darkness that suffocated it for a century. The water, the earth, the air in my own lungs was radiant with life. Yet, I could not breathe.

"Do you really remember me?," she asked.

There she stood, no longer a voice in my head. No longer a splinter in my mind. No longer a figment of my imagination. Her Highness, the pure white of her sacremental gown still caked in dirt and dried blood, like the memory. I think it was a memory. But her eyes, that smile as warm as the sun, her hands clasped to her chest as if she was praying to Hylia still when she asked that question.

"Do you really remember me?" echoed internally.

The question struck me like a moblin's club. My chest twinged and I felt time stop as if I was striking down a hoard of enemies or loosing a dozen arrows. Was this what it felt like to be on the other side of that?

Ever since leaving the Great Plateau, it had seldom occurred to me to dwell on... me. Or him. Or the he I used to be. I am He... aren't I?

All I knew when I stepped on to that cliff was that I was alive, and happy. And confused. And hungry. The world was familiar but unrecognizable at the same time. I did what the old man asked and just wanted to be done with him so I could find some shelter that wasn't falling apart and get food. If I was really asleep for a hundred years, my stomach certainly felt like it. And I hated that man.

Before I knew anything else, it was him. I had nothing but rags and a stick, and here this man is, chuckling, demanding, ordering. Every time he spoke, my joy at being alive was sunk by what he expected of me. This alleged king, King of Ashes. King of Ruins. King of Nothing. At the bottom of the weight I felt anywhere near him was disdain that I knew went far back into who I used to be.

"Do you really remember me?" Answer her, you fool! Speak! Speak, damnit!

But there are no words. I was frozen, falling, trying to aim, where am I falling, is this another flashback, again, now? Answer... What is my answer!? I can find it... aim... breathe... aim... breathe... breathe...

Her Highness is a supernaturally patient woman.

I have been all over this land, I have scoured from under every bush and picked from every tree. I have climbed to every peak and fallen into every lake and stream. I have met every person and battled every beast from the drifts of Gerudo Highlands to the sands of Rist. But why? Why did I do this? Because it was fun. I enjoyed it. I loved stopping at stables and joking with children, and helping those who needed it. If nothing else, I could cook food and listen to their stories. These people filled me with so much curiosity and joy. I was having so much fun out here, away from that old man, away from that dank cave. The more I wandered, the more connected I felt to everything around me. Connected to... there... this... place... Impa said when I was ready... I'm.... I'm not...I'm falling.... At

This

Place

I can't see

Everything hurts

There's.... screaming

They can't get through. The swords can't get through them... Those machines.... They can't get through! There's so much screaming, so much fire, stay behind me! Stay behind me! Behind me... My sister?... Home. They can't get through! Princess, stay down! Please, get back! That sound... What is that sound? Lieutenant, flank right and aim for the eyes! The eyes! They're crawling up the walls... They're crawling up the walls... THEY'RE CRAWLING UP THE WALLS...

Swords and screaming and I can't breath, I can't breathe.. I can't... Zelda no... Please... Plea.... I can't... See... I can't see... see.

"Do you really remember me?"

The light. The blinding light. I remember the light. And that's the last thing I remember.

But I have been told more. I paid no attention to those things until meeting Sidon. He was a strange person, but stranger still was that he believed in believed in me so completely without knowing me. I think? He brought me to his people and they certainly seemed to know me. But as beautiful as Zora's Domain was, there was something beneath it.

The statue in the center of it all. Mipha, I'm told. I looked up at her. If her diary is to be believed, which I've no reason to doubt, I spent much of my life looking up at her. The chastising. Zelda did that, too. I remembered Mipha's healing touch on my wounds. Her touch, her gaze, her voice. It was all so soft. But here she is now, cut into stone. Cold. Dead.

And all the Zora knew me as the reason why. Except Sidon. If he knew me when Mipha had, would he hate me too? Maybe, but right now he didn't care. He knew only that I was right for his task, and knew I could do it. I was just going along with this excitable stranger because he was another person in need and had a smile that made me laugh. Besides, how could I turn down so much effervescent charm?

At least until I saw the statue. And Muzu. He spoke with such conviction regarding my failure. And shame could have poured out of me like so many of the waterfalls that surrounded us.

I knew I couldn't fail again. I had to do this. And I saw what Sidon was putting me up against and I thought he was out of his briney mind. I was terrified the entire time. Sidon moved so fast the water rushing seemed to burn, the constant barrage of shards of ice, dangling off the nose of a thousand foot mechical beast... And the blight. The blight that smelled like a corpse and dripped with rage. The shock and satisfaction that surged through me knowing that I destroyed what took her away. The relief when I saw her and knew that she forgave me. She remembered me. She believed in me. Sidon believed in me. The Zora now believed in me. And now I believed in me.

"Do you really remember me?"

I believed in her. I always believed in her.

The flashbacks could only tell me so much. They can tell me what happened, but not who I am. I'm not sure I ever knew who I was. I was young, I had friends, I had family, and I loved to explore. Mipha knew all of that to be true. And she loved me for it. Yet what it got me took me away from her, from myself. There would have been no difference between me finding this sword in the forest or falling into a hole in the ground. I took it back to father who saw it, dropped his ax, and rushed me inside. He sent for a Sheikah, who brought another, and another, each one looking more serious than the last. I sat in the back of the house and watched for hours as my future was planned out for me by strangers. My father, a veteran himself, arguing with a Royal Guard captain with tears in his eyes. He knew what this meant. They all knew what this meant. I didn't know what this meant. But it wasn't my choice. By the end of the night, my childhood was over.

The next day a side of my father came out I'd never seen before. He was a soldier in his own home. As the day broke, we went to the side yard and stared at the banner of The Kingdom of Hyrule waving in the sunrise, saluted, and we drilled. For hours. Days. Years. Until I was the youngest cadet ever admitted to the academy. I could pick up the sword, I could make it dance through the air, but no matter how much I trained with it, it never felt lighter. Despite this, I rose through the ranks. Defeated challenger after challenger. It seemed like I could level a dozen men in the blink of an eye. I was respected. Admired. Awarded with a deep blue Guard uniform and cap. And in short order, I was commanding men of the same rank that visited my house that day.

I looked up and saluted the old man, and caught a glimpse of his daughter over his shoulder. Her face was red and her eyes were puffy. The sudden death of the Queen had shaken us all, but none more than this family. No one knew what had happened. The Sheikah advisors made it seem like she was suddenly called up to the heavens and no further explanation was offered, except for Seer Astor asserting "the time has come for us all, the future as it will and must be."

King Rhoam had the same gaze as my father. Our first duty was to protect him and Princess Zelda, who was no older than me. The Royal Guard was assigned to protect the palace as the delegations from Gerudo, Zora, and Gorons arrived to pay their respects. Chief Urbosa was granted free movement around the palace as she was set on consoling the Princess and would simply not be told otherwise.

The Kingdom and the Gerudo Tribe had never has the friendliest relations, but what was going on between the King and Chief Urbosa was something else entirely. The two met privately in the Dining Hall and shouted at each other for hours, and when Urbosa shouted me and the men could feel our hair stand on end. When she finally burst out of the door, she strode up to me with her hand toward my face. A spark whipped from her finger as she wagged it at me before saying as calmly as she could, "No matter happens, you protect that girl. Understood?" I swallowed and nodded, and she departed. She stormed by the great Daruk of the Gorons, who seemed to mouth 'yikes' before following her at a safe distance.

That was the last time she allowed on palace grounds until she was made Champion at the Princess' request.

The Princess kept a low profile. She was rarely allowed out of the castle except for diplomatic errands. Servants would come and go from her study with stacks of books, some looking like they hadn't been opened in a thousand years. If her company wasn't kept by scholars and librarians, it was the Sheikah priests and priestesses and poets and researchers. I watched her spend years with people constantly circling around her like vultures. Princess Zelda only knew me by the sword I carried, and once in awhile she would glance at me as if I was mocking her with it. She never spoke to me directly until I was assigned to be her escort. But I knew the weight she was carrying. It was as heavy as mine.

"Link... Link... Wake up, Link."

I drew my breath in sharply.

"Do you really remember me?"

There were no words. In that moment, I remembered everything. Fragments of broken memories fell into place. I knew why I did it all. I knew why the light at Fort Hateno felt so warm that night. I knew failure and forgiveness. I knew regret and I knew relief. I knew gratitude and I knew grief. But is it mine, or is it his? How could I possibly answer her if I don't know myself?

Time was speeding up. I can't keep her waiting much longer. It was all too much. It felt at once like I'd known her my whole life and we were just meeting for the first time.

She looked at me, her smile like the sun, and I walked to her, buried my face in her shoulder, and sobbed.

We both dropped to the ground in silence. We held each other. We watched the chaos of the Calamity dissolve into mist. Every remaining Sheikah came rushing to the castle grounds bringing food and blankets. Zelda and I simply sat at watched the commotion for awhile, we were both so very tired. Impa sent Cado and Dorian to secure the castle while Paya excitedly retrieved Zelda's belongings and new clothing. Robbie and Purah materialized out of thin air and almost immediately began to bicker about recycling all of mechanical debris. It was all okay, it was all out of love. Zelda and I looked at each other and laughed. We could breathe again.

We took one last look back at what we were leaving behind of ourselves, of what we needed to be. And the spirits of our loved ones that looked upon us with pride. Even Revali seemed to make a nod of approval, then a sarcastic gesture in my direction, before flying into the clouds one last time.

Impa approached us gingerly. "There may yet be other threats lying in wait, Your Highness. Hyrule is now yours, and we are at your service. But you cannot stay here. This castle still fills me with unease. Where would you like to go?"

Zelda looked to me and I nodded in return, then she returned to Impa, who seemed to already know the answer.

"Ahem," she began, blushing. "Link and I will be retiring to Hateno. It is quiet and safe. I firmly believe I will be of greatest use there, and Link has volunteered his continued services as my escort. And personal cook." she added, her cheeks now red as hearty radishes.

"Oooh," Impa acknowledged, "how very sweet of him."

I let out a "huh?" before standing at attention. Zelda began "Yes he certainly... I mean of course! He's simply doing his duty. Are you implying something? Don't be silly... we're simply..." Impa turned and walked us to the carriage. "Of course, Your Highness, of course."

~Disclaimer~ This is the first fanfic I've ever written.

[firerose18991]

Prince! Itadori x Black femReader prt 2

Info: fluff, adventure, multi part fic

Written with black curvy/chubby readers in mind but all are welcome

Wrd cnt: 1.69k

Prt 1

As you and Yuji contemplated your impending fates a commotion was building outside the tent.

“FIRE!” A booming voice whipped through the camp.

You jumped up from the stool you sat on, the smoke was already starting to fill the air in the tent.

“Grab your shirt.” You called to him, and pulled him out by his wrist.

When you reached the outside of the white tent, now sullied from the ashen air beginning to coat all of the camp, you saw the chaos. You spotted the head nurse directing a trailer from the camp on the barren hill down into the lush forest beneath.

“Nurse! What's happening?” You ran up, Yuji in tow.

“The Barbarians! They're storming the camp!”. She ran up to take Yuji's other hand. “You need to flee and meet with your army. We can't protect you here.”

“But the camp is neutral, are they killing their own people?” Yuji resisted the nurses' pulls towards the escape route, though it mostly looked like her tugging a brick wall.

“If they have a target like you they would've lost those men anyway. Most of them are the ones you injured in your battle.” Yuji was taken aback.

Since he'd been injured only sparse battles have occurred which only lasted a few hours at most. He was the target of the Barbarians all along. With the line of succession open his territory would be vulnerable. Nevertheless he wasn't going to hide like a coward among the sick and injured. He finally had the time to put his shirt back on. It hung loosely around his muscular frame.

“Do you know where my sword and steed are being held?” He turned to you.

His kind amber eyes still held their warmth but focused on you to give an answer urgently.

“You can't possibly-” the head nurse started.

“The stables are by the edge of camp, close to the lake.” You pointed the way and he bolted off.

“(Y/N)!” the Nurse yelled at you as he ran off. “He’s in no condition-”

“If anyone is going to keep the encampment safe it will be him. Let’s focus on setting up a place for triage further in the forest. After all this everyone will need it.”

You helped usher the remaining patients down the slippery hills of the forest to a natural basin near another river outlet closer to Yuji’s kingdom. The screams of those fighting over the ashes of the old campsite echoed to where you had found yourselves. Your heart ached thinking of Yuji fighting, maybe being heavily outnumbered and you wondered if you’d done the right thing by sending him off.

You busied yourself by the end of the first day purifying drinking water and gathering ingredients for healing potions. Some of the patients had sustained burns and you had to quickly find natural remedies in a forest you had barely gotten to know. Others worked on using their magic to create temporary rock and mud huts for patients. When you’d found just about all you could make sense of in the forest’s herbs you headed back and sat on the river bank. The fight raged on even into the night. That gave you some hope the Yuji was still out there fighting. Enough to get you through the next day.

In the morning you were the first up. Catching fish in the river and pounding wild nuts and berries into edible porridge. You’d made a large fire to cook and were careful to cast a smoke concealment spell. The head nurse woke up to you using a giant stick to stir the massive amount of porridge and fish roasting on the sides. You looked like you’d thoroughly lost your mind.

But the smell drew everyone from their huts and away from their miserable night rest. Once everyone had eaten their fill patient daily care was still at the forefront. You directed your fellow nurses to plants with antiseptic properties whose leaves could be used as bandages for the time being and crafted potions with yesterday’s work. And in the night you repeated the same as the morning. You’d brought all the nurses up to speed and everyone fell into their roles once again. The battle could still be heard. When particularly devastating attacks occurred you’d see mass flocks of birds scattering overhead to escape the atrocities. But as long as it continued your people would remain.

The third day was uneventful and fatiguing for all at the camp. In their down time a lot of the nurses watched you pace back and forth working like someone had lit you on fire. The head nurse had to pry you off a tree you’d attempted to climb to get more leaves. But in your sleep deprived state you missed a foothold and fell down. She coaxed you into a mud hut to get some rest which is where you stayed even through dinner. At some point you’d managed to fall asleep and woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of crickets and fire crackling. For a moment you allowed yourself to take in the natural ambiance before you shot up from the ground. The fighting had ended.

“Oh gods.” you whispered to yourself as you clumsily pushed your fatigued body off the ground and out of the hut.

You stumbled out to the haunting forest. The battle was done but you couldn't be sure who won. Part of you nearly began to mourn Yuji until you were startled from your thoughts by the sound of sloshing mud and leaves drawing closer from the forest. You clasped your hand to your face and hid around the corner of the hut, if need be you would wake the others and try quietly to get away.

As the heavy steps grew closer you began to make out the figure of a lone man. The moonlight only illuminated him in slivers at a time. Once it brushed upon his bloodied face and you saw the pink hair peakout through dried blood you stepped out from your hiding spot.

“Yuji” you gasped, stepping toward the bush he was slowly making his way over. His head was bowed from exhaustion. It was a miracle he made it to your camp with his injuries. You caught him just as he tripped out into the basin front. A small part of you wanted to be mad at him for taking on such a foolhardy battle, the other was mad at yourself for letting him. But that was all overshadowed by the immense joy you felt from him having returned in one piece.

You looked up as you heard more zombie-like steps creeping through the forest towards you. You hugged Yuji's now sleeping form against yourself, not sure of what you could do. Soon soldiers wearing the crest of the Itadori kingdom began emerging from the forest. Each as bloodied and bruised as their prince. You finally placed yuji down gently when you saw commander Nobara stumble through with the last set of soldiers. You caught her as well and placed her down gently before going to get the other healers of your clan.

Everyone worked through the night to pull the soldiers through. With healers stretched thin the head nurse walked over to you wordlessly and handed you a wand. Something only the most recognized and talented of your clan get the honor of wielding. You quietly rejoiced as you walked over to the remaining horde of soldiers that needed attending to.

When dawn broke the streaks of blood from soldiers marching to their last salvation were illuminated. The camp was lively with those who’d only endured extreme exhaustion and doctors rushing to care for those in more critical cases. Once you took care of your most critical patients you whisked through the camp looking for Yuji, the head nurse had decided to take him under her care as he wasn’t at 100% to begin with. As you approached her tent you heard hushed voices.

“Excuse me.” You spoke softly before entering the tent. You looked around to see Yuji sitting in bed, some dried blood still stained his skin. And the head nurse brewing a pain reliever. “Sorry I just came to see how he was doing.” You were hoarse from exhaustion.

“Glad I'm not the only one who looks like hell.” He smiled, thoroughly wrapped in plant fiber bandages and propped on pillows.

“The leader of your enemy has been defeated, but some of his men still remain at this camp. It is not our place to get involved in these matters.” The head nurse spoke to both of you.

“I completely understand, I would never ask your people to compromise their values for my sake. I believe a short prison sentence after they've healed will be enough to satisfy me.” He really sounded like he'd been on the throne his whole life.

“Yes well that may take a while”

“After dealing with my own injuries I've learned to be patient.” Yuji's grin turned into a wince.

The head nurse shooed his hand that instinctively went to his injury and used her wand to lessen the pain.

“(Y/N) the medicine.” She nodded to you.

You made your way over to her work station and waved the supplementary wand that still hadn't been taken away over the pot to complete the medicine. It glowed like gold in the dingy wooden pot. You brought it over to where Yuji was fighting a coughing fit, for fear of displacing his ribs. Once he got some of the medicine down he wearily settled back into the pillows.

“Hopefully this time I leave him in your care he'll make a full recovery.” She winked and left the tent to the two of you.

<<<prev

[mistkisbiggestfan]

Omg the Pomni x Fem jester was so cute! Would you mind writing more of it? (If you can or want to)

Pomni, romantic / Jester! Fem! Reader - Part 2

Pomni (romantic) / Jester! Fem! Reader Hc + Small fic

A/n: Finally writing $h!t in my inbox?? Rare Jules moment, like actually I don’t know what’s happening (I’m gonna write those Tf2 and Voltron requests too, promise) REQUESTS FOR TADC ARE OPEN!!

Summary: Part 2 of being a silly jester couple Words: 1539 Rquest: Yeah!

She was kind of insecure because of you.

After she settled and realized it’s her life now, tho

You were well, everything she wasn’t; tall, well-built, at least your avatar was, and not to mention Pomni hated to admit that your digital avatar was quite attractive. 

And worst of all, you were an actual circus performer. 

But that has its downsides, of course, when she realized you were closer in behavior to Kinger than Jax or Ragatha? $h!t man. 

She tried to avoid you all day (events before the end of the pilot: the digital feast).

But on the other hand, whenever she saw you, a lightbulb kinda flickered in her brain. 

She’s such a girl failure, didn’t even know you for a day and still fell for you.

The jester was very much confused: “Am I attracted to this…?” 

Yeah she is. This freaks her out. Why is she attracted to a crazy girl?  

Your first meeting was a bit rough, duh, but in between her panicking and having a freak out, she couldn’t help but note your good looks. 

After that she didn’t see you much because you stayed behind with Kinger and Gangle.

– You’re sure this is a good idea? – Ragatha said before turning around, looking at you, Kinger and Gangle. You were laughing about something, Gangle was crying, and Kinger was doing his usual stuff. – Of course, they’re the most mentally stable trio in the whole circus! – Jax snickered before walking along the halls. – Come on ladies, let’s go harass the clown. 

During the time when abstracted Kaufmo ran around, chasing Pomni, at one point you came out of nowhere and scooped her up, bringing her to safety.

Then you kind of fu(/#d off to let abstraction of your dear friend sink in, Ragatha was very worried when she saw you not attending the digital feast at the end of the day.

The loop of never-ending exits and the void left Pomni really fu(/#d, but none really cared (expect for maybe Gangle and Ragatha) because it was her first day.

She didn’t even realize when her legs led her to the digital lake. Like someone else brought her there.

Just as she was about to sit down and relax she heard the deep and loud voice that scared her, the feminine, in other circumstances soothing voice was terrifying, she looked up and saw the Moon talking to someone.

Oh yeah, she almost forgot that Sun and Moon were AI people here. 

“That was great dear, you should show that trick to Caine sometime.” She was talking with someone? But who?

And then, she saw your (in comparison) small figure looking up, with something that imitated fire, more like digital-fire but a flame nonetheless. 

That made her feel worse, it was all superficial, all being nothing more than lines of code. Just like the talking Sun and Moon – not giving off any heat or cold.

Pomni felt herself losing it again as she saw you talking with the Moon above. 

Feeling weird was an understatement. 

Before she could go away, because she was standing awfully close to you two, she heard the loud voice of the Moon again.

Pomni finally snapped out of whatever she was in, her shoes touching the smooth, untextured grass under her. She didn’t know when or how she got here but she had to roll with the punches in this new place she was forced to call “home”. She saw the lake’s water before her before hearing a deep and loud voice of someone seemingly echoing and coming from every possible direction. She looked up.

The moon, or rather, Moon, was talking to someone. She almost forgot it– she? Moon. She almost forgot Moon could talk here, probably being some kind of AI too, like Caine. 

But, Moon was talking with someone and she could tell it wasn’t Caine. – That was great dear, you should show that trick to Caine sometime. – She heard Moon’s voice again. 

And with that, Pomni found herself walking closer to the direction Moon was talking too. How could Moon be seemingly high above, be seen from all directions and 2d like? She sighed, deciding to ponder on the perspective and basic rules that reigned this world sometime later. 

Finally, she saw a small in comparison figure standing and holding a large stick or something like that, which ended with fire on both ends, the flame made her shiver, ironic. She looked as the fire danced, looking more animated than anything else, the thought that it was nothing more than lines of code wasn’t the best. 

As she looked more closely at the figure talking with Moon, she couldn’t make out the words. And she realized, it was you, well now that was obvious, you were the only person dressed like a jester other than herself.

Before she could turn around, walk away, forget about this, she heard Moon’s voice again. – I think you should get yourself going dear, it seems like someone’s waiting for you. – Pomni’s eyes widened as she saw Moon looking at her, and she saw your head whip around to look at the person who was waiting. 

Oh h#|! – She thought, and now she contemplated turning and running away, but before she could do so, you already stood in front of her. And you didn’t look quite as cheerful under the moonlight. 

Now she could notice you had makeup on, well that’s probably just a permanent characteristic of your digital skin. You were quite different from her, that was rather obvious since you were basically towering over her. But one thing was similar, both of you had a $h!t tons of bells on you, how could she haven't noticed you going here? You were basically a walking “hey! I’m here! Can’t you hear me? Oh yeah you can”

You seemed more worried about her now, she didn’t notice, somehow, still, basically checking you out. – Are you alright? – Your voice snapped her out of a staring contest with her and your lean body. 

– What? Oh, oh! – She looked up at you, as you leaned in to hear her better. – I’m not that short – She thought to herself. 

– Is there something you need? – You said now starting to walk along, towards the entrance of the main area. She shook herself and ran to catch up, you started juggling as she looked at you weirdly for a second, were those balloons? How the fu(/# can you juggle balloons?

– I just wanted to thank you, for, eh when you saved me from that monster. – She said, not looking up at you, but she heard a laugh, snicker, whatever, it seemed more nervous than cheery though.

– Kaufmo.

– What?

– That wasn’t a monster. It was Kaufmo. – You said, still juggling, she seemed to catch on with your thought process. 

– Right. Sorry – She apologized quietly, both of you being now in the hallway leading to your rooms. But you laughed it off, catching all the balloons and popping them, like Caine did with Bubble, with funny sounding “pop”. Only now she realized you were standing still now, not walking anymore. 

– Don’t beat yourself over it, sweetheart. – You laughed, not mockingly, somehow it sounded lovely. Amd Pomni froze – her face red. Oh god she if she didn’t want to hit herself then, she definitely wants to after this. Once she realized what happened your laughing disappeared a long time ago. She looked around and found out you left her off in front of her new room. – Wow… – She breathed out. 

At first you were not a big fan, but your behavior was always the same, you really kept almost everything to yourself, but you have to admit she was a little cutie.

Ever since you always tried to make her flustered, and it always works.

She tried to make you flustered on more than one occasions but you seem to not be able to feel flustered or embarrassed, your face just goes from “:D” to “(´ ꒳` )” 

You’re actually the boldest mf out there, even bolder than Jax. 

Jax probably gave up on trying to prank you after that “staring at your soul” thing.

But Pomni is a brand new target, so you protect her. And it makes her flustered, but on the other hand, what doesn’t make her flustered?

She might have called you mommy by accident. She was burning, but to her shock. That seemed to make you flustered, but just for a second, before you laughed sweetly at the mess before you.

“That was great, cutie.” “Thanks mommy.” “...” “...”

She should be glad Jax didn’t overhear that, or did he?

He did. It’s over for her. 

She was walking through the hallway towards your room and looked up to see him, looking down at his nails, even though they were covered with his gloves. “Pomni, remember that calling the jester mommy isn’t very PG 13.” He smirked before the situation resolved to a harmless fistfight.

Caine doesn’t bat an eye, maybe says something to Pomni but that’s all. (You’re his and Moon’s favourite so it’s understandable, don’t let the others know though.)

Favouritism is real.

Overall very cute, two jesters are always better than one.

[bee6r]

How Could I Ever Stop Loving You

A/N: A short Carl fic for a nice sunny day 🌻 how could *eye* ~ get it?

Summary: You see Carl for the first time after he gets his eye shot out.

Warnings: Normal TWD gore/violence, angst with fluff at the end

~ !gn reader! ~

---------------------------------------------

Abraham had told you to stay in the car when he, Sasha, and Daryl had begun shooting the walkers from the fence. So, laying on the floor of the old, rusted truck is where you stayed, fiddling with your hair and fingers, thinking about what was going on outside, and listening to the gunshots that were echoing around your head.

You hear the others yelling over the noise but can't understand what they are saying. You want to be a part of it, because you know that you are strong enough to, and that, knowing him, Carl would be at the center of it all.

And so, after a few more moments of listening to the gunshots ring out from outside the truck, you decide that outside the truck is where you should be.

The sun hits you almost immediately, and it takes you a moment to adjust after hiding yourself in the darkness. After looking around and narrowing avoiding a walker that had its eyes set on your neck, you spot Abraham and Sasha up in one of the watch towers.

Creeping closer to the fence only enhances every shot from the large guns that the others were using, and you fight the urge to cover your ears with your hands or shoulders and you climb up a tree on the edge of the fence.

"Sasha!" You call out, once you are within shouting distance. "Help me over!" She looks back, startled at first, but her face relaxes.

"Didn't want to miss the action huh?"

"Never," you respond, and she grabs your arms, allowing you safety as you push off the tree and onto the guard tower with her and Abraham.

"Hey shortie," Abraham greets you, not taking his eyes off the houses. As you follow his gaze, you notice just how many walkers had gotten through the fence. Most lay motionless on the ground, but clusters of them still roamed through the streets of the once spotless Alexandria, groaning and dragging their broken feet as they did so. You scrunch your nose, the smell hitting you abruptly. "Pretty nasty huh?" You nod,

"Unbearable."

***

After Daryl sets the lake on fire (I'm sorry I feel like that was so casual), it didn't take long for the rest of the walkers to die, their bodies decomposing before they hit the pavement.

You walk with the others through the gates, and as you look around the burning, but still intact, Alexandria, you feel at home again. Thats when you begin looking for HIM. You had expected him to meet you at the gate like he always did when you went on runs without him, but he was nowhere to be found. Rick is standing with Michonne, and the others are spread out around the town square, catching their breath and talking amongst themselves.

After a few minutes, Sasha goes to Tara, Daryl to Carol, and Abraham to Rosita, which leaves you alone. You walk over to Rick and Michonne, and as you near them, you cock your head to the side, signaling that you want to know where Carl is, but when Rick can't meet your eyes, your stomach drops.

"Where is he?" You ask, you voice faltering and low, "is he okay?" Michonne steps away from Rick, giving him a small nod, and turning towards you, pulling you by the shoulder so that the two of you can talk in private.

"He was-" she pauses, "shot." A cry escapes your lips, which you just barely manage to catch with your hand, muffling it.

"What?"

***

You wake up on the porch swing outside Denise's office, tired and your cheeks stained with tears. Denise had told you to wait until he was awake to see him, because he wasn't stable yet, which only made the pit in your stomach worse. And so, you had waited through the evening until you fell asleep, hoping that you would be able to see him in the morning, but as Denise walks across the porch towards you, you know that you won't be able to.

"Come back tonight," she says, "he should be awake by then." You nod, standing up.

"I'll be back."

---

You busy yourself with mindless activities throughout the day. Shower, eat, wash the dishes, play with Judith, go for a walk, clear the walkers, shower again. By the time evening rolls around, and Michonne forces you to eat something for dinner, you feel as if you have lived a hundred years, just waiting for something to happen.

You almost run to Denise's house, knocking quietly at the door, and waiting very impatiently for her to open it. When she finally does, you notice she has a smile growing on her face.

"He's awake," she says simply, opening the door wider, so that you may come in. "And he's been asking for you." You cross the threshold slowly, and round the corner to see him, sitting upright in bed, a bandage wrapped around his forehead and right eye. When he notices you, a smile lights up on his face, and you almost sprint towards him, leaping onto his bed and burying your face in his chest.

"Hi baby," he says, the smile still on his face.

"Hi," you whimper, "I missed you." He chuckles,

"I missed you too." Crawling completely onto his bed, you straddle him, finally pulling away from his chest, only to cup his face and kiss him. He kisses you back, gently at first, but then passionately, only breaking apart a minute later for air.

"Don't ever leave me like that again; promise?" He smiles, kissing you gently again and smiling contentedly into the kiss.

"I promise."

----------------------------------------------------

A/N: ❤❤❤ Let me know if you have any requests! (No promises I will finish them but...)

Also... go give my ao3 acc some love >>> bee_died | Archive of Our Own

[milkyplier]

I wrote this is a continuation of @skyloftian-nutcase’s fic Numb. It isn’t everything that I wanted it to be at all, but it’s still okay and even I don’t like it, there’s someone out there who will so I still want to post it. See the reblogs for all the reasons I think this could be improved. I recommend having read Numb first (*sweats in I only sort of read Numb before I wrote this*), but if you don’t feel like doing that, pretend Sky held in all his hurt until it burst out one day and now Legend, who understands, is telling him that he’s got his back, okay? Good. Thank you. And without further ado, I present to you,

Pins and Needles.

"Where's Legend?"

The question prompts Sky to look up from his carving, and he remarks internally that he hadn’t realized the hero was missing.

"I saw him head towards the cliffside," Wind says, "He said something about wanting to see the lake.”

Sky frowns at this. Realistically, nothing is wrong with it, and he hasn’t seen any concerning behavior from the Veteran lately, but it still stirs worry in his chest.

"I'll go check on him, " He offers, putting away his carving as he stands.

“Alright. But drag him back here when you find him; it’s almost suppertime!” Wild calls after him, and he assures the cook that he will before picking up a jog towards the cliffs. The cliffs overlook a valley, cupped by mountains, carved out and filled with water by some long forgotten glacier. The lake is massive and majestic, so Sky doesn’t wonder why Legend chose there to find isolation.

He sees the Veteran sitting on the edge, ocarina to his lips, and the tune he plays makes Sky's heart ache. Not wanting to startle him nor disrupt his tune, Sky stops a few yards back from the Veteran, listening do him play. Several minutes pass before the song ends (or maybe it is before Legend stops repeating the song), and the last notes echo through the valley. When they’ve faded, silence settles over the landscape, heavy and suffocating. Sky is surprised when he is not the one to break it.

“Hard not to dwell on it." Legend's voice is hollow, lacking inflection and he looks over his shoulder at Sky with bloodshot eyes. Sky feels squirmy inside when he sees tears slip down the Veteran's cheeks, unchecked. He sighs and steels himself, nodding as he makes his way forward and sits down next to the Veteran.

“Yeah.”

Legend laughs bitterly, and looks up at the evening sky.

"Goddesses, I was so stupid." He runs a hand through his hair and sniffles. He wipes his eyes, although new tears replace the ones he wipes away almost immediately.

"You want to talk about it? " Sky asks gently. He's never seen the Veteran cry; his eyes welled up in the uncertain moments while Twilight was ill, but he never really outright cried. And, as Legend seemed to be the most emotionally stable of the Links (considering everything he'd been through), Sky figured it wasn't a good sign if he was crying. Legend gave another watery laugh.

"No, " he says, “I’ve already cried, that's enough emotional processing for right now. I'll just...I'll just hold the rest in until I can’t anymore, as usual.”

Sky frowns. That sounds—

"Sounds really unhealthy, and I shouldn't do that because we’re not meant to hold things in like that. It will hurt hurt me, and the people around me.”

And suddenly there's no trace of pain or sorrow in Legend’s face. The Veteran glares at Sky, ice blue eyes piercing into the Skyloftian’s soul.

"That's what you were about to say. " Legend's tone is strong, almost scolding. Sky blinks dumbly, and Legend continues.

"Well, you're right. It is unhealthy, in more ways than one, it will hurt you more than any weapon ever could—and sometimes, the damage is irreversible."

The words almost sting, but Sky isn’t entirely sure if it’s because Legend is being harsh.

“Sky.” His tone changes, and Sky is reminded of Sun when she tells him she loves him after she’s been angry about something. Gentle, apologetic, but sincere, said straight from the heart. “I'm here for you.”

That's the part that surprises Sky. He expected to hear "you need to tell someone" or “I’m your friend, why didn't you talk to me?"

"I don't expect you to tell me anything. " Legend continues, “But I'm here, I always am. If you ever need to look over your shoulder just to see if someone is there, I'll be there. If you need someone to make sure you don’t end up dead in a ditch somewhere after you've tried to drink the pain away, I’ll be there. I’ll also be there in the morning to help you when you realize it didn’t actually work, it just gave you a migraine. Hell, I'm here if you just need someone to yell at to go away." Legend meets Sky’s eyes again.

"I cant fix you, I won’t try. But I'll help however you want me to. I'm here.”

Legend holds his gaze for another minute before he raises the ocarina to his lips once again, and another tune fills the valley, this one more hopeful and soothing than the last. Sky remains silent through the entirety of the song. When he finishes playing, Legend stands up.

“Well, we ought to head back. Cook’ll kill us if we're too late to supper." He offers a hand to help Sky up, which the latter takes. Once he's on his feet, Legend surprises him for the second time in twenty minutes by pulling him into a hug. It’s strong and warm, made even more so by the fact that Legend is not a very cuddly person.

Legend surprises a third time by letting Sky determine the length of the hug, which Sky makes maybe a little longer then was needed, just because he could.

Dinner is a lot more cheerful that that evening, the first in a long time where Sky notices now warm and bright the fire is and how delicious Wild's food is. He sees anew how funny his friends all are, how close and caring they all are. The numbness doesn’t go away. But it is a moment where Sky feels hopeful that one day, it will.

[kottkrig]

To Embrace The Shadow: Repentance

The Shadow Mother sees things from a different perspective.

World of Warcraft | Original Characters

Light Angst | Found Family

In the Void, time had no meaning. Lucretia didn’t know how long she was stuck in it when every minute had her fighting to stay tethered to reality. She was a mind without a body, a consciousness desperately trying to stay awake. The ambush had disintegrated her form, forcing her back into the darkest of planes and trapping her there. She plunged so deep that she couldn’t witness the outcome above, and it was by the skin of her teeth that she managed to hook herself from falling any deeper. That man’s face was the last thing she saw before holy flames erupted in her core, and his gunshot was the last sound that echoed in her head. A regular bullet was pathetic against a living shadow, but those pistols had been blessed by a man who believed that what he did was righteous. He praised the Light as she burned in front of the people who she had promised to protect.

But the Shadow Mother would not have her calling cut short by a false redeemer. Lucretia was a stubborn old crone, spitefully refusing to die, and her days weren’t numbered until she counted them herself.

When she was stable enough to reach Tyr’s Fall, and she could see the lake from a different plane, she found it empty. Reverberating silence, taunted by whispers from the abyss. Lucretia had no idea how the ambush had ended, or if his minions were dealt with–or worse, if any of her people died–but she felt no biting Light there. This forest tipped in favor of the Void, and while she wasn’t yet strong enough to leave, she could recover where the veil between realms was thinner.

A few nights of meditation passed by, and she eventually caught visitors at the lake. They couldn’t see her, and she couldn’t risk being spotted when she was vulnerable, even when the people she saw were fellow Forsaken. If she returned prematurely, she made herself an easy target, and if murderous zealots were still a threat, they could destroy her for good. They were not the only ones who would love to see her dead. The first visitors were scouts coming to check the forest, later bringing along Dark Clerics to drain what Light still bled into their hallowed soil. Lucretia recognized their voices, but they weren’t credible enough to detect her when she didn’t have a body. She couldn’t even speak in her current condition. She chose to watch and wait for the right moment. More time passed, and less people came to the lake as it was restored. In a way, they helped Lucretia as well, as she could amass enough energy to construct a minor form. It wasn’t the one she made familiar to the dead and feared by the living; the Shadow Mother’s visage was too grand, still too risky for her to mantle. Instead, she chose to be a raven. Small and unassuming, as well as one of her favored animals.

The few who came in the coming nights were exclusively people from the cult. The forest could be used for its magical properties, especially the lake, and cultists sometimes visited to soak in liquid Shadow. Lucretia knew them all, and some she would even trust with her safety. She considered taking a dip herself, but it meant that she would have to cross the veil. As a raven, she might blend in, but it was still a risk that she wasn't keen on taking. She was not expecting three special people to make an appearance. In her relief to see her students safe and sound, she wanted to listen in, and felt no fear flying closer. It dawned upon her that one of them could still peer into the Void, as he froze when he faced her. While she could not be certain that leaving was safe, having them arrive to where she fell played on her emotions. She might not see them again anytime soon, and she wanted to help them, let them know that she wasn't gone. She took the risk. The second she unveiled herself to them, reality crashed over her like a tidal wave, and forced her to escape. It was a foolish move. She immediately felt tired when entering the mortal plane, but what's done is done. If she went back in when she was this frail, she might lose her form and fall much deeper. It would take even longer to recover, and she had to see what happened in her absence. However, her entrance would likely rustle the entire village and turn stares towards her, so when she flew back to Deathknell, she continued to hide and watch her people. Sister Zala readily came looking for her. The girl was impulsive and quick to anger, but if she really wanted something, her will was strong. An elf’s eyes could easily catch a raven among the trees, and it was just a matter of when she would. Lucretia hoped that she could hide long enough to recover a little bit more; it might allow her to safely move, as well as to see if her disciple would be tenacious. When she finally was discovered, Lucretia was forced to conceal her identity. She suspected that Zala already knew, but the situation had to be weighed first. Seeing the new burn scar on her cheek made Lucretia’s phantom heart sink, but the scar also proved that Zala had pulled through another hardship. Maintaining a safe distance, Lucretia let the elf continue to challenge her struggles with the Forgotten Shadow’s second tenet. The time eventually came, and Zala’s tears shifted from frustration to out of joy when they could communicate again. Her guile had them passing through the village with ease, and Lucretia was further heartened when Lafayette and Cletus were added to the reunion. She was worried for them and was glad to see them enduring. Staying with them, she was blessed to also see them growing. As their mentor, she had become complacent. They all knew that she surpassed them by far, and she was a strict teacher when the Forgotten Shadow was no easy religion to follow. Her high expectations led her to believe that she would be guiding them for a long, long time. Their dependency on her had her taking care of things she deemed too ambitious for them.

Her arrogance was what lowered her guard and led her to failing them. In the room they obtained, which was hardly built for four people, Lucretia was humbled by depending on her students. Lafayette, Zala and Cletus set aside the hard competition of the Shadow, where the strong lords over the weak, and took the incentive to help her. She tried objecting to them expending their energy on her, as she knew that she could recover on her own with time. In fact, she would accept being stuck in this state for months if it meant that she could witness her disciples blossoming together. But they were in charge here, not her.

Winter had claimed the land and kept people indoors. Lucretia stayed put and obliged with the trio's efforts to supply her with magic. She watched over Lafayette's attempts to rebuild his vision. He couldn’t completely restore it and was left nearsighted, with a sensitivity to brightness, but it was his own magic and he didn’t need anyone else to see. He wouldn’t let her, and she wouldn’t force it. Just watching him return to his beloved books warmed her spirit.

When Zala fetched them tools they needed–rare reagents from unfamiliar places–she returned exhausted and disheveled. Lucretia was always hesitant to let such an impatient and often aggressive character go too far beyond personally surveyed objectives, but she had to trust her student now. She could at least help Zala with planning and encourage her to be cautious when she walked in the Shadow. The ranger found enough success in her hunt, and her bruises were a reminder that while difficult to follow, Tenacity was the tenet made just for these situations. As long as she was smart about it. Cletus was the one that Lucretia saw the least, and the man she had to trust the most. His loyalty to her was flattering, but it was usually for egocentric reasons. He had a tendency to hog the spotlight and wasn't always good at hiding his satisfaction from surpassing lesser acolytes. Before, his drive for power led him to speaking over the other two, and he would likely have gloated in obtaining this authority, but something had shifted in Lucretia’s absence. While she was out of commission, Cletus was the one to cover for them. This time, he listened to the others–not just her–and made sure that they got what they needed.

As the new year progressed, they bestowed her with so much healing that she could use her full voice. The long winter nights propelled her recovery forward, and one promising eve, she stood between them and positively radiated with magic.

So much energy was exuding from this little raven that it would have to be put in a body that was better equipped to handle it.

“I believe that it's time.” Lucretia’s spectral voice rang with conviction.

“The other Dark Clerics are going to hound you for avoiding the mountain of paperwork on your desk,” Cletus said, “but we are thrilled to witness your transformation.”

“And here I was starting to get attached to this form. What a pity.”

They smiled. Making jokes was exceptionally rare for her.

Everyone stepped back when she took flight, and her wings reached far and wide as Shadow coiled around them. Her frame was swallowed by darkness and exploded in growth. Its twisting was gloriously gruesome; feathers made way for ceremonial cloth, the beak split into a skeletal grin, and her eyes expanded like black holes from the Great Dark Beyond.

When the miter of a master Dark Cleric speared the air and they saw the deathly face of their teacher, the three acolytes basked in their accomplishment. The oldest stepped forward.

“Welcome back, Mother.”

[mollywall-e]

The sky above is blanketed with billowing clouds. Strobing flashes of lightning cast a reddish light across the sky, revealing the familiar landscape ahead of her: the field behind her homestead, the quiet stretch of land between her house and Flat Iron Lake.

She’s alone, wading in the knee-deep grasses, spattered crimson and whipping violently in the wind. Then, over the roiling thunder and smattering of rain, a seemingly sourceless voice calls out to her, pleading.

Imogen, run!

Imogen doesn’t recognize the voice, not exactly. But she knows it, deep in her bones. It feels safe. It feels inviting; feelings that are so alien, Imogen almost fears them more than the storm itself.

Almost.

Desperate to squeeze out every ounce of that addicting and foreign comfort, she holds fast amongst the storm, searching for the source of the voice. The lightning strikes closer and closer, the whole sky flashing red. The booming cracks of thunder echo in her ears, as the winds whip at her hair. Pellets of rain and flecks of dust stinging in her eyes, Imogen’s unable to see anything beyond the raging tempest that threatens to swallow her whole.

Half-convinced she imagined it altogether, but entirely certain she'll die if she stays out in this storm any longer, Imogen does as the voice commanded. She runs.

Her bare feet sink into soil as she makes a break for her house, the reddish mud squelching between her toes. It feels like she's moving in slow motion, like the shelter of her home will always be just out of reach. But with each splattering step forward, the fuzzy details of her homestead begin to crystallize.

The fence surrounding the property is covered in a fresh coat of white paint. Not a single picket is out of place.

The grass is well-maintained and sprinkled with flowers, a stark contrast to the sea of weeds Imogen knows the yard has turned into.

The house stands solid against the surrounding tempest, no crumbling foundation or rotting wood, no broken stairs or shattered windows.

It’s just like the picture on the mantle. It's safe. It's beautiful. It's all Imogen's ever wanted.

She throws open the gate (not only is the latch intact, it doesn't even squeak!) and charges forward. She's clambering up the perfectly stable porch stairs when another sourceless voice reaches her ears.

“Immm…Gennnn”

The voice is hoarse and muffled, as if spoken from another room, and it’s desperate. It’s Laudna, her unique cadence recognizable even in choked whispers.

“Gennnn…plll-ease...waaa-ke…UP.”

As the words reverberate across the clearing, the world around Imogen falters. The clouds part. The rain stops. The thunder dissapates. The fields lose their focus, devolving into a blur of greens. Her house loses its structure, more of a brown blob than a building. It's disorienting, it's nauseating. The nightmare she'd fallen into unravels around her, pulled apart at the seams by Laudna’s voice.

As the dreamscape fades, Imogen suddenly finds herself staring up into a familiar set of eyes, bloodshot, bruised.

“Laudna…?” Imogen murmurs, bleary with confusion. “What happened?”

“ ...Immm…Gennn…” Laudna rasps out. Her voice isn't any stronger than it was in Imogen's dream, cracking and breaking off at the end. She doesn't try and speak again, choosing to answer by delicately lifting the fabric of Imogen's shirt, revealing the gunshot wound underneath. The bullet carved a near-perfect circle in the flesh underneath her collarbone, and it’s steadily pouring blood.

“Well, shit.”

[mi-rae07]

Song Mingi : Burning Desire s2 (Extra)

Pairing : Song Mingi (Ateez) and named character (Moon Aeri)

___________________

Miyeon : minho!

Miyeon walked towards her younger brother as he frowned, looking at the empty ballroom where miyeon was currently supposed to have her ballet classes.

Minho : where is the teacher?

Miyeon : alive.

Mingi : noona what-

Miyeon : I need to go out.

Minho groaned as he said

Minho : for the third time this week? To that forest again?

Miyeon : it's not that forest, it's my favorite place on Earth.

Minho let out a breath, putting his hands on his waist as he said

Minho : noona I am the crown prince, my duties include more than just seducing your teacher into not telling eomma about your little endeavors.

Miyeon : okay then.

Miyeon bowed down, lifting her skirts as she did a curtsy before saying sarcastically

Miyeon : my great lord whose wit and wisdom surpasses the best of this world, would you kindly do me a favor and stall my stupid ballet teacher for me. Your actions will be greatly appreciated and forever remembered with gratitude and-

Minho : okay get up I'm done.

Miyeon giggled as she stood up straight, ruffling her younger brother's hair that was exactly like her fathers' before saying

Miyeon : you're the best.

Minho rolled his eyes with a small smile as he watched miyeon run away to the stables, her skirts held up as her anklet sounds echoed around the place. She had always been the life of this palace, with all her laughs and giggles. The people loved her, almost everyone did.

Minho : don’t die!

Miyeon : I'll try little brother!

Minho smiled as he turned around, his face falling immediately as he noticed the ballet teacher coming in, her face taught and composed. Minho whispered under his breath with a tired sigh

Minho : the things I do for her.

Minho put up his most enchanting smile as he walked forward, calling out graciously with his arms held out

Minho : look who's here! My favorite teacher in the world!

_____________________________

Miyeon closed her eyes as she let the wind take over her body, her horse galloping further into the forest that she had always loved. Her parents never let her go into the forest, for obvious reasons of safety. But miyeon couldn't help herself, so she'd ask her younger brother to stall the ballet teacher at least two times a week so that she could take that time to visit the place she loved most.

Miyeon guided her horse towards the nearby lake that she always liked to visit, having even made friends with the rabbits that lived there. But miyeon slowly stopped her horse as she saw a man drinking from the river water, his curled blonde hair going up until his shoulders. He dressed like a commoner, but he was built like a knight.

Miyeon gasped as the man turned back to face her, her eyes landing on the most beautiful person she had ever seen in her entire life. She had always thought her father to be a quite handsome man, but this…this man looked like he didn't belong to this world.

??? : you're the princess.

Miyeon pressed her lips together, climbing down the horse as she said

Miyeon : is it that obvious?

The man looked at her dress and the jewellery she was wearing and then at the horse who was not even bothering to eat the grass before saying

??? : is it.

Miyeon sighed as the man turned back around, packing his belongings into a brown bag as miyeon asked

Miyeon : where were you headed to?

??? : Upsala.

That was where the nation's churches were located, it was considered holy and put apart from the rest of the nation.

Miyeon : you're…a saint?

The man chuckled dryly as he said

??? : I wish.

The man lifted the bag before putting it around his shoulders and was about to walk past miyeon when she held his arm, making him pause on his tracks

Miyeon : you know I am the princess, and yet you have no respect.

??? : respect is earned, princess, not given freely.

Miyeon supposed she could try to earn his respect if it meant having his presence around her.

Miyeon : what is your name?

The man turned to face miyeon, her realizing how beautiful this man was while being even closer to her. She wanted him, but just with his gaze miyeon knew he was unattainable. He was too divine for her, too pretty even in the most ugliest of dresses.

She could write poems on his beauty.

??? : kang yeosang.

Miyeon frowned as she asked

Miyeon : kang? That sounds familiar. What is your father's name, then?

Yeosang : kang han.

___________________________

[badwitch-if]

“I thought our story was epic, you know, you and me. Spanning years & continents. Lives ruined, bloodshed. Epic.”

To the very few that know them well, Ash Casablanca is a walking contradiction. They're so practiced at maintaining the very picture of perfection, they fool even themselves. Loyal to an absolute fault, they would be hard pressed to ever turn down a covenmate.

The youngest in a long line of Casablanca cousins, Ash grew up surrounded by family. A family they would have happily traded in, but a family nonetheless. The Casablancas were known as a wild and reckless bunch of Witxhes, who often acted like their time was wasted inside the classroom.

Ash's parents tried to discourage the wild Casablanca roots from taking hold, trying instead to coax out the more stable Hawthorne elements. Where the Casablancas were seen as tempestuous and unpredictable, the Hawthornes were strong, pillars of society. But their parents efforts were usually in vain, so often, even before Ash could introduce themselves to teachers and counselors, they were written off as another mediocre witch in a long line of troublemakers.

That is, until they met the eight other children that would become their coven, their soulmates, the people that would come to know the deepest parts of Ash. It was as if from that moment forward, they all became the best versions of themselves, but Ash in particular. Being around people who liked and loved them so much, and so easily, allowed Ash to become their truest self at the Silver Lake cottage.

Over the years they grew into a strong, sarcastic, whip-smart witch, whose voice and laughter could often be heard echoing down the halls of the house. And ever since Ash met them, no matter the situation, they always seem to gravitate towards MC and Ori. Eventually MC's obsession/love of Demonhall infected Ash, and the rest is history.

Being too young to compete, they dedicated themselves entirely to the study of the sport, including origins, histories, as well as a thorough audit of the rules. Ash becomes so overtaken with the game that his parents buy a decommissioned Demonhall and have it relocated to their house near the academy, itself a recent purchase.

The young coven practised in secret the summer before their third year, under the guise of staying together at the Casablanca estate. And this would begin a long and important tradition with the Silverlakers — of spending long, countless nights learning magic considered to be 'out of their grasp', before making the little trek out to the woods where they attempted their most dangerous spells and enchantments.

Third Year would mark the turning point for the coven. They competed in their first season of Demonhall finishing first in their age class, and third overall. This was all the encouragement Ash needed to launch themselves at training and studies, full speed. Until their body decided to play a joke and turn against them, and that was when Ash learned they had just two obsessions in life: Demonhall, and cute Witxhes.

And boy oh boy, did they excel at that just as easily as their other passion. Ash found that they loved having crushes almost as much as they loved eliminating a Witxh in a game, and of course, there were more than a few similarities between the two. That feeling you got in the pit of your stomach when you realised the game had begun. The thrill of the chase.

So like many Ash's age, during their early adolescence, they were utterly consumed with romantic flings and the obsession of sport. It wasn't until the [REDACTED] that Ash took stock of their life and asked themselves some hard questions. And then there was [REDACTED] where Ash's entire life changed. MC was all they could think of and for once, the lines of attraction and Demonhall were somewhat blurred.

The coven continued to push the boundaries of magic, stretching the laws of nature and ethics. The other covens demanded to know how they already knew spells and potions before they'd been taught in the classroom; why the Silverlakers won match after match in the Demonhall, utterly destroying their competition. Some properly outraged parents even demanded a Shuffling of the Covens, an event that had only ever been discussed hypothetically during the school's founding.

All of this only helped to infuse Ash's ego, as it all but confirmed that they were anything but a mediocre Witxh, and things were actually pointing to them being a pretty great. Around this time, rumours started swirling of a young academy coven that was blowing up records left, right, and center. The summer before Fifth Year saw the Silverlakers invited to their first international match. It was the first time the world would get their first look at the coven that would soon take the Demonhall world by storm.

Ash absolutely adored the fame and glowing attention that their stardom brought. If they weren't already convinced they wanted to pursue a career in Demonhall, their latter years at the academy confirmed it. While still taking classes, the Silverlakers had the added pressure of balancing more exhibition and international matches on top of their regularly scheduled academy games.

Scholars were actively studying the coven because they were performing at a level they just... shouldn't be capable of performing at yet. Ash, MC, and Ori were being openly courted by several professional Demonhall teams before Ori made it known that they weren't interested in pursuing the sport professionally.

And so it was down to MC and Ash. They spent hours going over the pros and cons, arguing over which team would be the best to join and why. There was no question that if they did this, they would do it together, because their biggest strength in the arena was each other.

But then just when they were about to head out into the world, to enjoy a well-earned life of luxury and excitement, it was [REDACTED] and [REDACTED], all but snatched away. Any professional life or romantic future with MC was suddenly not an option, with very little in way of explanation.

So Ash picked themselves up and tried to carry on as if everything was fine. They spent the better part of their twenties whoring, partying, and maintaining a near-perfect Demonhall record. They have been an honoured guest at every High Solstice and Equinox Ball of the past decade, the quarterly event for the trendy Witxh who wants to see and be seen.

Ash has a golden-beige complexion that maintains a perma tan year-round. They're taller than average & have an incredibly athletic physique. They literally look like they were chiselled from marble, with a magnificently toned ass.

Ash's work look is a midnight blue, ultra slim-fitting 'Aurora Bolts' Demonhall simsuit. Their day-to-day style is casual, comfortable, cool. Lots of khakis and large pullover sweaters. Light, neutral tones. Very 90s Ralph Lauren, Hilfiger. Their evening/glam look often shows off their athletic bod, with soft lines and sheer fabrics.

Their wavy, honey-blonde hair is cut to shoulder length on Aisling, but grown out a couple inches on Asher so that it always looks a little unkempt. They possess the bluest of blue eyes, sometimes as clear as ice, while other days they were as dark as the midnight sky.

Ash has a cleft chin and a megawatt smile, and seems practically made for the limelight. Asher keeps himself pretty clean-shaven, so you know he's not himself when his five o'clock shadow is showing, while similar could be said about Aisling being seen without her signature berry red lips.

aaand here's a link for Ash's playlist. I've been playing around with it for years... so it's more of a 10hr long ✨vibes✨ playlist than being music that Ash would listen to, but that's another fun project altogether 😅

*I don't own any of these photos, please don't sue! And credit for the top quote goes to S2 Logan Echolls, aka LoVe (but probably really series creator Rob Thomas)*

[dangraccoon]

Jari’eyc - Chapter 20

Read on AO3

Word Count: 1209

Content: pheepheepheepheepheepheepheephee, Hemlock's toxic gas is kinda like a nightmare gas, Jaine's abusive uncle, verbal abuse, injections, injuries, brain trauma, slim odds of survival, thinking your family is dead, illness, pain, prison break, cody being a stubborn ass

« Previous Chapter Next Chapter »

Hunter could practically feel Fives’ nerves as he watched the ARC pacing the hangar. “Thought you trusted this person?” he asked. 

Fives met his gaze. “I do,” he affirmed, nodding. “I mean, she’s great, even though she works with Cid. I don’t mean everyone who works with Cid is untrustworthy– It’s just that I–”

Before he could finish, another ship came in to land at the hangar. Hunter rose from the crate he’d been leaning on. Seeing Fives lower his mask over his face, he pulled his own helmet on. He watched the ramp lower with curiosity. A figure in a leather jacket walked out, her hand resting on her hip, where Hunter noted a decently sized vibroblade sword. 

“Now isn’t this interesting,” the stranger laughed, striding over to them. “After all this time, I finally get to meet the mysterious ‘Forn’. I gotta tell you, I was starting to think Short Stuff was making you up.”

Hunter’s gaze snapped to Fives. “You’ve never met?” he hissed.

“Not… exactly,” Fives’ modulated voice said.

Phee looked between the two. She tipped her head towards Hunter. “A friend of yours?” 

“You could say that,” Hunter grumbled.

“Wait, don’t tell me,” she said. “You’re from that group of stray clones Cid’s been working with, aren’t you?”

Hunter grunted, his mic barely picking it up.

“Nice to meet you, too,” she chuckled. “Name’s Phee.”

-

“Ms… Vale?” the nurse called. 

Jaine stood, and followed the nurse into the network of hallways in the medical center. 

“You’re here for… a military physical?” the nurse asked. She sounded surprised. 

“Yes,” Jaine answered, her brows pulling into a scowl.

“You are going into the military?”

“Yes,” she repeated as they arrived at the exam room. 

The nurse scoffed. “I guess every organization needs secretaries.”

“I’m a medic, actually,” Jaine said curtly. 

“A medic?” the nurses voice shifted. The resentment that was boiling in her gut quickly turned to confusion and fear. “Silly little medic,” taunted the nurse– no, this wasn’t what that nurse said. “You think you’ll be any more useful out there?”

No. That voice– that voice sent a chill down her spine. 

“You were just as useless to them as you were to me,” Jaine’s uncle spat. “You destroyed our world and just moved to the next. How many lives did you ruin in your wake? How many people could you have saved if you weren’t such a waste of space?”

“I- I wasn’t- I’m not–”

“The toxin is working, Doctor.”

Doctor Hemlock smiled. “Excellent. Doctor Karr, administer Bavo Six. Record anything and everything she says.” He turned and left the room, leaving her alone with Jaine.

“Yes, Doctor,” Emerie answered anyway. She prepared the autoinjector.

Jaine struggled lightly against her restraints. “Please, Uncle, don’t-”

Emerie leaned down to her ear. “Jaine, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I am not injecting you with Bavo Six,” she whispered, placing the autoinjector to Jaine’s neck, the latter whimpering. “This will clear up the remnants of the toxin. Once you are stable, I will contact your squad with the coordinates of this base.”

-

Tech had approximated the path towards the rail based on where he’d found her crashed on the edge of the lake. The trek in that direction was long, slow, and filled with a tense silence.

He had not been quiet about his certainty that the others had likely not survived to escape Eriadu, despite Runi’s constant protests and seemingly endless hope.

Tech had run the numbers during a fleeting moment where his mental fog had lifted. Without the additional weight of the second car, the railcar his family was in would have accelerated rapidly, and there was likely little Echo could do to control it, especially considering that he was likely in shock from Runi jumping to rescue Tech. The odds of the groups’ survival seemed slim, though it was helped by the fact that Fives and Sinya were aboard the Marauder and could likely take care of the others.

Runi had refused to believe his rambling explanation of probability. She knew he wasn’t thinking negatively, just logically, but she still preferred to think that everyone was safe and unharmed. She needed to believe they were alright. Still, her heart ached.

The odd pair had briefly discussed their differing viewpoints, but ultimately agreed to stop as they were simply arguing in circles. So instead they walked in silence.

They stopped frequently to rest; their bodies were aching from the collection of injuries they’d accumulated from their landing. Runi could tell Tech was getting irritated by the amount of time they were spending resting, but she also knew he needed it more than she did. Though, with much of her body covered in bruises and small abrasions, she found herself missing her old armor, sitting in a box in the small apartment she shared with Fives in Ord Mantell.

“What are you thinking about?” Tech asked abruptly, looking surprised as if he hadn’t meant to ask aloud.

She chuckled at the look on his face. “My family, I guess,” she said, picking at a stone near her boot.

Tech nodded, but realized his curiosity ran deeper. “Will you… tell me about them?”

It was her turn for surprise. She had only known Tech for a couple months, but she’d never taken him as the type to be interested in others’ personal lives. “What, um… what do you want to know?”

-

Another set of harsh coughs racked Cody’s body as he leant against a tree until he could catch his breath. He hated jungles.

“Are you alright?” his companion asked, her hand on his shoulder.

“Fine,” he grunted, opting not to grumble about jungles being his least favorite environment. 

“I can carry Jaine, if you want.”

Cody turned his head to meet her eyes hidden behind red lenses. Emerie’s expression was confident, but the look in her eyes was hesitant.

Cody glanced over his shoulder at the unconscious face of his friend. 

“It’s alright,” he said, heaving her up a little higher on his shoulders. “I’ve got her.”

Emerie looked like she wanted to say something but chose not to.

They continued their trek through the difficult terrain, Emerie watching Cody as the journey strained him more and more. Every so often she’d offer to relieve him of Jaine’s extra weight across his shoulders, only to be answered by a gruff refusal. Eventually, they’d slowed to nearly a crawl between his struggle not to cough every other breath and the pain that shot through his right leg with every step he took.

“Cody, this is clearly not sustainable,” she argued after her offer of help was turned down again. “We’re hardly making any progress, and it will be getting dark soon.”

Cody stopped and sighed. Slowly, and painfully, he lowered himself to a kneel, allowing Emerie to help ease Jaine from his tired shoulders. She wrapped her arm around Jaine’s waist, putting Jaine’s arm over her shoulders. Cody stood and took a similar position on Jaine’s other side.

“We’ll make camp up on that ridge,” he said, pointing up a steep incline. “Try and use that tech you grabbed to send out a signal.”

She nodded, and they continued their escape.

« Previous Chapter Next Chapter »

Thanks for reading! - River

Jari'eyc Masterlist DangRaccoon Masterlist Taglist Form Read on AO3

Tags: @lokigirlszendaya @idoubleswearimawriter @serenityselene @nomercyforthewarrior @ravenclawbitch426 @luna-the-lone-red-wolf @techs-goggles9902

[totkdaily]

Day 7: Skyview Tower Launch

Purah discards the search for Zelda with dispiriting ease. She wants to investigate the Upheaval. Zelda would approve, but it’s always been her Swordsman's job to moderate her curiosity with practicality. The priority is, must be and has always been the Princess and her safety. 

Purah and Josha have rigged some kind of scanning or navigation system into this tower, built out of old Sheikah technology. It’s a dynamic and colourful echo of the tranquil Sheikah towers I once climbed. It looks like they needed the Purah Pad to make it operational - what was their plan if Zelda - or I - didn’t bring it back? 

Purah asks me to take it for a test run in exchange for the paraglider returned to me. The design of the tower’s systems is… startling. I hadn’t realised how ingrained it was to feel that thrumming in my veins at the sight of a Guardian’s pincer legs. And the scanning itself is more… adrenaline-inducing than the Sheikah towers used to be.

But the paraglider is an old friend, and its familiar frame in my grip makes me feel all that more capable. The sensation of the rushing wind matches the thrumming under my skin, and I feel calmer. The landscape is, despite the debris and Purah’s towers, still familiar enough to ease my heart. I must find Zelda. But at least I’m home. 

Back on the ground, Purah asks me to visit Rito Village, Gerudo Town, Goron City and Zora’s Domain to investigate some strange phenomena - as well as Kakariko Village and its new Ring Ruins. She thinks they might reveal something in the search for the Princess. I wonder if she’s just saying that to invest me in the missions. But I don’t have any better ideas. And Josha says someone saw Zelda at Rito Village recently. I suppose it’s a start. 

I follow Josha downstairs to find her arguing with Robbie about going to the Depths. She wants to investigate a statue found down there, but Robbie says she’s too young. The compromise is that I go instead. It doesn’t feel like it’ll lead me to Zelda, but the Depths do intrigue me. And Robbie will show me how to use the camera on the Purah Pad in exchange. 

I take a walk around Lookout Landing before I head out. There are some people I know here, some I don’t. Karson is a familiar face - he seems to have split up with Bolson, and is building a mini stable here with old Lester’s aid. There are a few people here on the monster-control crews - it seems Captain Hoz’s team has been reassigned from the search for Zelda to taking down monsters. Just because we’ve seen the Princess, doesn’t mean she’s fine. I shouldn’t have carried that report of her sighting. They should still be looking for her.

Gralens seems to be the point person for these crews - Captain Hoz is in Hyrule Field, and two others - Captain Toren and Captain Flaxel - are at Lake Darman by Death Mountain and at the Menoat River in Faron respectively. Their colleague Atmus says there’s been an increase in unusual monsters since the Upheaval - presumably like those odd bokoblin I met when I landed. 

I head out and catch a horse to get to the chasm faster, but he’s gorgeous - dark blue-black with a white nose and socks. I gallop him over to Wetland Stable to register Blackberry, and then we race together through the night back to this chasm in Hyrule Field.